#in my defense. I was good about making and keeping appointments.

[cavitychemicals]

I should call her (my therapist)

[apomaro-mellow]

steddie falls into porn cliches on accident

Steve was in the middle of washing the conditioner out of his hair, loving the silky smooth feeling and watching the water turn from cloudy to clear as it was all rinsed out. He was ready to start washing his body in earnest now, when he heard the doorbell ring.

For a second, he was ready to just ignore it, thinking it might be a delivery or someone trying to solicit. They could leave whatever they had on the doorstep or keep moving. Then the bell rang a second time and Steve remembered that he was in fact supposed to answer it.

Robin had hired a plumber to fix their sink. She told him they'd be coming between 8 am to noon. Steve had gotten in the shower exactly at eight, thinking surely he had enough time in that window. What kind of plumber showed up this promptly!?

Steve turned the shower off and grabbed the first robe off the hook. It wasn't his, he knew that. But in his defense, Robin wasn't home and he liked to air dry when he could. She could get mad at him later for snagging hers. He tied it hastily, rushing to the door before the plumber left.

-------------------

Eddie waited for the door to be answered, checking his watch while he did. Today was his only appointment, so he thought he was doing well by showing up on the early end of the window. He was ready to spout the rehearsed script when the door opened. Good morning, Munson and Son Plumbing. You got a problem with your drain pipe? Well I'm here to fix it. Fun fact, I'm a guitarist, so I'm pretty good with my hands. Anyone you know looking for lessons?

His uncle didn't always like him plugging his side gig, but putting up posters around neighborhoods wasn't quite as successful as actual face time. Then the door fully opened and he got an entire eyeful. A dripping wet god of a man, his modesty just barely preserved in a bath robe. It did nothing to hide his thick, hairy thighs or impressive chest.

"Hi I'm here to handle your pipe!", Eddie blurted out. "I'm mean I'm good with my hands! P...plumbing! I'm the plumber, I'm here for your plumbing."

"Oh, y-yeah, we've been expecting you", Steve tried to close the top of his robe more and that made Eddie self conscious about staring.

Steve introduced himself and Eddie did the same as he was let into the house, somehow not putting his foot in his mouth as he did. Steve took him to the problem sink and Eddie got to work while Steve excused himself.

He went into his room, looking for something presentable only to find it was mostly his stuff for the club. Definitely not appropriate for a plumber visit. Then he remembered why. He had started a load of laundry last night. And when he woke up this morning, putting it in the dryer so it'd be ready once he was done with his shower.

He went to the laundry room to do just that, emptying the contents of the dryer into his hamper, bending over to do so. Once he was done, he'd be able to put together an outfit that didn't make him look like a desperate housewife.

Eddie had just finished tangling with the pipe. It didn't take as long as he had expected but his shirt was drenched now. He listened out for Steve, hoping he was nearby so that he didn't have to call for him, only to hear something...odd.

He followed the sound until he came to an open door and realized what the sounds were - little grunts of effort. Eddie bit his lip, letting logic and reason work themselves out. Steve knew he had someone in the house and the door was wide open so he couldn't be-

Eddie walked through the door and there was Steve, bent over, top half in the dryer, bottom half sticking out. His robe had began to hitch up, revealing just the bottom of that perfect ass.

"Holy shit", Eddie squeaked out.

"Hey? Plumber guy? I know this is awkward but would you mind helping me out? My robe got caught on something and I can't-I can't free myself."

"Um, okay? So should I just...should I just?", Eddie got behind Steve, hands fumbling. Should he adjust the robe or would that be rude?

"Just grab me and pull", Steve said, wriggling around more and stopping when he heard a rip.

"Yeah, okay, yeah I'll just", Eddie grabbed Steve's hips and pulled, to no avail.

"Gonna have to do it a bit harder than that", Steve said. "Here I'll, I'll try and push too."

Eddie swallowed as he pulled again, Steve's hips coming flush with his own and eliciting a gasp from the other man.

"A...again."

Eddie pulled again, harder this time. He had kind of been working with a half chub. The kind Steve had to feel right between his cheeks every time Eddie pulled on him.

Steve gasped with each time their hips came together and it was getting hard to pretend his asshole didn't flutter with each movement.

"Fuck, just fuck me already", Steve whined.

Eddie wasted no time in dropping his pants and rubbing his cock against Steve's ass, precum dripping and Steve still wet from the shower. The tip slipped in with ease and then the rest of him and Steve's hips wouldn't stay still and then he was fucking him oh shit he was fucking him he was fucking a client while on the clock.

Steve's voice sounded goddamn ethereal, echoing inside the tub of the dryer. He was giving as good as he got, pushing back with each thrust and Eddie got to watch his dotted cheeks jiggle with each impact.

Eddie pushed the robe up more, licking his lips as he was rewarded with the sluttiest back arch that he'd ever seen. He wasn't going to last and this Steve guy wasn't either. Eddie came first, one hand on Steve's hip and the other bracing itself on the dryer so that he didn't fall over. Steve's cock spilled into the floor, a mess to be dealt with later.

"Fuck...you really are good at handling pipes", Steve laughed through his panting.

When Eddie left that day, he didn't get Steve's number. But a week later their company got a call about a clogged toilet and specifically requested that Eddie come over, that they only trusted his expertise. This time, Eddie wouldn't let it slip through his fingers. And this time when Steve greeted him in a half open robe, it was on purpose.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS: Bongo Butts | 18+

I should be going to bed but I forgot to do laundry so here I am, writing more content that nobody asked for. Just like motorboating them...when I see them butts. Just. WHAM BAM. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also hope you know I had to research different types of dump trucks for this fic.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Ass Slapping, Crack Fic, Playing their asses like they're bongos, Zayne's lost sanity, Rafayel is scandalized as per usual, you mentally scar Raf, Xavier is confused as per usual, but is he confused?, he does get you back tho

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier really did need to be more careful around you. He was the one who wanted you to date him first, in your defense. He chose you. And you wouldn't let a single day go by that you didn't prove why that was a horrible decision on his end. At the very least, he could claim that he was never bored with you around.

Today was supposed to be a lazy day. You two had off from all missions and were relaxing around the apartment since it was too damn hot to actually go outside. It also happened to be laundry day for Xavier, so he was dressed in his workout attire while his uniforms were being deep cleaned from all the dirt that accumulated on them during his missions.

Those shorts. They were so damn short. You'd even call it slutty because hot damn. His ass was just right there. It was staring at you. Hypnotizing you like it was a snake charmer. Your hands were already twitching in a grabby motion as you stared directly at those perfectly rounded globes on his backside. His beautiful bubble butt.

Xavier could feel your stare burning into him as he looked over his shoulder. He was just sun bathing by the window, laying on his stomach. So vulnerable to your upcoming attack.

"Something you need?" Damn, he already sounded suspicious. It might've been by how you were practically drooling with your hands up, ready to grab at him. It was a slight give away. He should've been more prepared though, because you lunged at him in that moment.

He only had time to turn slightly when you pushed him back on his stomach, sitting on his back to pin him down. Your hands took a fistful of his ass before you began hitting them with little force. Just watching them jiggle with every little slap of your hands.

You were cackling like a maniac as you continued your assault until he managed to maneuver you off of him. You were laughing, your cheeks flushed as you almost teared up. His entire face was red as he stared at you in horror. Then you saw a flash in his eyes and you knew you were done for.

He grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. Then you felt a harsh slap at your ass, making you squeal. It was so much rougher than you had hit him. He stared at your back side and did it again.

"I can see why you found this so entertaining. I think I'll play with this for now."

"Unhand me you creatine!"

"I think not, if I let you go, who knows what else you'll do to me."

Zayne

Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on Akso's best Cardiac Surgeon knew that one thing was a pure fact. He had an ass. His doctor's coat did a good job concealing it, but he couldn't wear it all the time. You had even noticed a few nurses who would glance down at him when he passed them in the hallway.

It was something you knew very well about Zayne, and something the man seemed oblivious to. The man didn't just have a dump truck as a rear end, it was a dump trailer. That shit could keep a family fed for an entire year. It was so perfect in every way. You could grab onto one cheek with both hands and you still wouldn't be able to capture the entire thing.

Yet for some reason, Zayne had no idea just how badly you needed his ass. You would often times find yourself staring at it when you hung out, had an appointment, or were just lounging at the apartments. It plagued your thoughts. You were losing sleep over this. It wasn't good for your health.

"Zayne..." You said as you relaxed on the couch next to him. You two were catching up on a TV show that you started well over a month ago but hadn't had time to really enjoy it.

"Yes, did you need something?" Oh how sweet he was, always looking out for you.

"Yes actually...can you lay down on your stomach for me? I wanna do something." You said, knowing that this man would do just about anything you asked. He eyed you for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to play this game with you.

"Might I inquire as to why?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out."

Zayne took one more moment before giving in. He adjusted his position, laying down on his stomach just as you had asked. You decided to be subtle, leaning over his form and placing your hands on his shoulders at first. You gently caressed the skin there, massaging the muscles through his shirt as you slowly made your way down to the small of his back.

There it was. The prize. The holy grail of all asses. It was ripe for the taking as you looked over to see Zayne's closed eyes as he relaxed under your touch. You didn't hesitate. Your hands slapping down on his ass and grabbing it roughly.

His eyes shot open as he looked over at you. You licked your lips as you began gently slapping the flesh, watching the bounce as though it were made of jelly. It was a sight to behold and you couldn't help yourself. You had seconds before Zayne reacted and pulled your grubby little hands off him.

So you leaned your head in and bit down. His pants managed to cushion him from the force of your bite, but he sure as hell felt it. He sat up and grabbed you under the arms like a cat, stopping you in your tracks as you stared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Playing with your nice ass."

"My butt is not a play thing."

You paused for a moment, eyes trailing down to the front of his pants, "If you aren't gonna let me slap your ass, can I play with your dick like it's a Bop-It?"

You watched Zayne go through five stages of grief. He sighed as he grabbed a blanket next to him, wrapping your entire body like a burrito so your limbs were no longer effective. He then sat back down on the couch with his legs open and placed you between, holding you tightly to his chest.

"I'm begging you, please be quiet for once and let's finish this show."

Rafayel

He should've known you were up to something if your gaze was anything to go off of. You had zeroed in on him the moment you had come over. Even during your little date as you two explored Linkon together, he knew something was up. Your not so subtle glances in his direction couldn't be considered innocent.

If only he knew why you were staring so hardcore. He had gotten a new pair of pants, or at least you assumed they were new. You were pretty sure you'd remember them with how good he looked at the moment. It was tight on him, accentuating his ass perfectly. You were pretty sure if you riled him it would also perfectly outline another aspect of him.

Still, you had a mission. Rafayel didn't know it yet, but the moment you had caught a glimpse of him this morning, you knew what had to be done. His muffins needed to be squished. His plump little cushions had to be properly admired and worshipped. You would be the one to happily give them the attention they deserved. An ass sculpted by the gods themselves were staring at you literally all day.

You closed the door to his home slowly, turning over to him. He was already heading to the living room. You slowly stalked behind him, and he could feel you were up to no good.

"Something caught your interest? I know I look good, but not even you normally stare at me this much."

"I just think you look particularly handsome today is all." As does his ass. You couldn't say that yet though, he would realize what your plans were if you verbalized it too early. Like a cat stalking a mouse, you followed him until he was in the living room. The moment he was by the couch you took action.

You rushed behind him and pressed down on the small of his back, making him stumble forward. He grabbed the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. Rafayel turned just in time to watch you drop down to your knees. Then he felt your hands harshly gripping his ass. Then the quick slaps in succession followed as you began laughing maniacally.

"Finally!" You said as you grabbed at them again. Rafayel finally reacted, rolling onto the couch to get away from your hands. You were practically panting as your hands twitched, "Come on Raf, lemme just squeeze em again."

"You are a psychopath." He said, hiding his ass from your view.

"I'm your psychopath though." Despite how horrified Rafayel looked, he was also amused by your antics. He grabbed at your arm, making you fall forward and your chest pressing against his own. His hands went to grab at your ass this time, squeezing them and laughing.

"You know, I think I'm seeing the appeal of this." He commented, his hands lazily hitting your ass cheeks like you had to him, although he was far more calm about it.

"See, it's amazing...now can I go back to playing with your butt? I wasn't done yet."

"I think not...although this has given me an idea. Do you mind if I paint your backside?"

"You wanna paint on my ass?"

"Perhaps."

"...I'll agree if you let me eat your-" Rafayel had never cut you off so quickly.

"Never mind."

The most accurate representation of what we're doing to these poor men. I will not be silenced. Their asses need to be slapped. And ate

[fandomfloozy]

Oh, I'm pretty boy?

pairing: katsuki bakugo x sick!reader

c/w: fluff, early relationship, petnames (katsuki calls reader babe, reader evidently calls katsuki pretty lol), sprinkles of hispanic!reader/spanish-speaking!reader, gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

~°•*~

You've been sick the last few days.

You're on the tail-end of recovery now, thank god, but for most of the week you've been bed-ridden, and snotty, and sweaty, and hot, and cold. It's been miserable, if you're being honest. With the light at the end of the tunnel in view, you're glad the worst of it is over.

There has been one upside to being sickly, though--one aspect that makes you wish you could be sick just one more day: Ever since you fell ill, since the moment he'd heard you were taking leave off work to rest at home for a bit, you've been under the thorough care of your very own, self-appointed nurse, Katsuki.

There's this saying: "You'll never truly know someone well enough until you've seen them struggle financially, grieve a lost loved one, or witness them while they're sick."

Your relationship is new. Not early days, but still far too soon for him to be seeing you sick, for your liking.

But when he showed up at your door a couple days ago--masked up, worry-eyed, and holding all the essentials for treating a typical head cold--how could you refuse him?

And to be fair, he's been a rock. He's changed your compresses (water bowl kept at optimal temperature), given you medicine in intervals (timed and administered to the MINUTE), and even cooked you palatable meals (anything you could keep down, but namely the caldo recipe he got from your mom when he asked her what you ate when you're sick). He did everything short of rubbing Vick's vapo rub on you (not for lack of trying), all while keeping a level head and brushing aside your concerns over feeling like you're burdening him.

"You're my partner," he'd say matter-of-factly. "This is my job, ain't it?"

A rhetorical question. He said it as if it was an irrefutable truth, as if he hadn't even considered an alternative, as if the very thought of leaving you to fend off this cold by yourself was an affront to your relationship, scowl on his face and all.

His bedside manner needed work, but when he said those words to you... let's just say the flush rising up your face probably had nothing to do with the cold.

So, yeah. While you're happy to be feeling better, you can't help being a little disappointed that the doting will soon come to an end.

Which is why you now sit with your head resting in your hands, elbows on the kitchen bar, making the most of admiring a now unmasked Katsuki as he cooks your dinner on what will be the last of your "sick days."

You're unashamed in your ogling. You feel bold. It might be the relaxed atmosphere. It might be the way Katsuki let you wear his hoodie tonight... It might just be the cold medicine. You feel dozy, comfy, and so dopily content as you watch your boyfriend chop vegetables.

He does it with ease--so practiced that it's like he's on autopilot. His defenses are down, completely in his element.

"'Ya sure you want all this cooked in with your rice?" Now that you're feeling better, he's less inclined to hold his tongue about his thoughts on your childhood dishes.

You yawn and nod. "Mhm, it's the way my mami always makes it."

"Just sayin', I could make ya rice without all this extra stuff."

"It's a good thing you're not making rice, Katsuki." You pout dramatically for emphasis. "You're making sopita."

"Sopita," he repeats, shaking his head with a sideways grin. "Alright, babe. I've got you covered. Sopita coming right up."

You switch to resting your cheek in one hand, continuing to observe your boyfriend as he works. He looks so serene this way. With his smug little half smile, even his expression screams "relaxed"--very unlike his usual frown and furrowed brow.

You're not used to seeing him like this. Sure, you've seen him in a good mood, upbeat, excited, even downright elated, like on the day you agreed to go out with him.

Katsuki has always been an... expressive person, even when it doesn't grant him the most flattering of expressions.

Right now, though, while he's contented and caring for you in the comfort of your own home, his features are on display in such a way that you wonder if the cough syrup really is getting to you.

He looks almost...

Pretty...

"You're starin'."

You know you are. "Sorry," you laugh. "I was just thinking how it's a shame you have such a cara de fuchi most of the time, Kats. You're so pretty."

His head snaps toward you. "Fucking WHAT." The furrow is back in his brow. If you were paying proper attention, you'd notice the flush rising up his neck and the back of his ears, but your eyelids are feeling a bit heavy at this point.

You wave your free hand dismissively. "You know, cara de fuchi," you explain. You're sure you've used this phrase in front of him before. "Like you're a sour puss, you pull faces--"

"I'm not fucking pretty," he interrupts.

You open your eyes slightly to squint at him. "Pfft," you laugh. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Hell, no." He turns back to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath.

With his signature grimace making its return, the allure is gone; but now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. He's beautiful. His eyes are a nice shape, and the crimson color of his irises is striking against his light complexion. The way his hair falls just above is strong browbone makes you want to push it back and rub at the scrunch between his brows. And you know he has soft lips, but on top of that, they're such a nice shade of pink. His jawline. His cheekbones. His chin.

It's a fundamental truth. Katsuki Bakugo is pretty.

You fold your arms on the island and press your cheek into the crook of your elbow. "I'm sure people would tell you more often if all the pretty wasn't covered up by your perpetual stank face."

Cue said stank face. He bumbles over his words in frustration for a second. "You're sick and loopy, stop bein' weird."

You giggle. "And you have a nice face when you're not acting chronically disgusted by the world."

He looks at you properly and you smile to yourself in pure delight and fondness.

"You're pretty when you're happy, Katsuki."

He deliberates over it for a moment, stank face semi relaxing. He's about to say something else when you cut into the silence with another yawn.

His gaze softens into an amused smirk as he reaches for your cheek and pinches softly. "Alright, alright. Don't fall asleep on me just yet, you gotta eat properly before goin' to bed."

You swat his hand away and rise to attention while rubbing your eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He smiles and goes back to cooking your half-prepared meal. "Ponte las pilas, or whatever the hell your mom says when you start lazin' around."

You huff at that. "I regret teaching you Spanish, you always pick up the worst phrases."

Katsuki barks out a laugh and you can't help the snort that follows as you giggle right along with him.

You two settle into the monotony of the last evening of your first of many sick days together. You're sure your boyfriend has had more than enough of witnessing you sick to satisfy stipulations. Suffice to say that he felt he knew you and your "sleepy freak tendencies" a bit better now.

There's definitely an addendum you'd make to that old saying, though: You'll never know how pretty someone is until you've seen them care for you while you're sick.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via ara-kan (deactivated)

[nonotnolan]

Jock Cock, Part 3

Many thanks to my photo source for agreeing to appear in this work! Check out Part 1 here. Check out Part 2 here.

"Sir, did you have an appointment?" Inwardly, I flinched. Externally, I needed to act like I belonged here. A little bit of bravado will go a long way, after all. I turned to face the student worker sitting at the desk I had waltzed past.

"Mike is expecting me," I said, gesturing vaguely behind me. That was a bold-faced lie, but I had at least confirmed that his Outlook calendar was open, and Teams showed him online when I left my office. It also listed him as a level two Admissions worker, so I think that meant he had his own office? I don't know how he could have arranged all of those body swaps without some sort of privacy.

Sure enough, I found him in the middle of a row of offices that were all pretty much identical. "Well, look at you. You managed to get an office with an exterior wall and everything. I'm a bit jealous. I'm here to talk about... well, us. I hope this isn't a bad time." I had gotten a rough idea of what he looked like from his company profile picture, but he was even more handsome in person.

"Kevin?" He hopped to his feet and quickly shut the door behind me. "I never wanted you to... how did you even find me? There are over 100 Michaels employed here, let alone the student population."

I smiled at him. It felt good having the upper hand, for once. "True, which is why I needed to approach this from an entirely different angle. It occurred to me that if you never told Adam about our meeting, I could use his test score to scare him into talking."

He glared at me. "Final grades were submitted weeks ago. You had no leverage over him."

"You know that. I know that. But Adam had no idea. I told him that I wouldn't pursue any sort of punishment as long as he gave me a name, and... well, here we are."

Mike let out a long, frustrated sigh. "I suppose you think that you're so damn clever."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Think it? I know it."

"Well then, Mr. Clever, how did you think this would play out? I told you, I'm only looking for hookups. Hookups that happen in bodies that are way more muscular than this one. Was I supposed to change my mind? You do a little bit of detective work, and suddenly I'm going to be yours forever?"

Out of all of the ways this scene had played out in my mind, righteous fury was definitely not one I had considered. "What? No, no, hang on. Mike, please. I'm not expecting you to be mine forever. One, the whole point of dating is just to see if we're even compatible, but more to the point... what's the point in swapping bodies if you can't have sex with multiple others? You have a gift, somehow, and I would have to be the biggest asshole to make you deny that part of yourself!" Mike started to relax his shoulders, and I took that as a sign to keep pressing.

"I'm not one of those guys who insists on monogamy. The open relationship is fine, I just… I want more than hookups. I want to come home after a rough day and know that you'll be there, waiting for me. Or at least your body. Can we… can we at least try?"

Mike just stared at me, with a stern and angry face that was weakened by his watery eyes. "I need you to understand I'm not happy with you right now. You completely ignored my thoughts and feelings because you decided that you knew better. And the only reason that I'm not telling you to get the fuck out is that my heart admits you may have a point. And as much as I want to be angry at how you violated my privacy… I was doing the same thing to your feelings when all I wanted to do was hook up."

He looked so sad that I wanted to reach out and give him a hug, but I had a feeling that if I tried, it would read as me dismissing his emotions as invalid hysterics. And that was the last thing I wanted to. I slipped my hands in my pockets, and stared at a point in the floor. "Well… then where do we go from here?"

He looked up at me, arms crossed defensively. "Let's do it this way. 7:00, the Starbucks on the edge of campus. If I show up, we'll try it your way. If I don't show up, we both agree to stop trying to pursue each other. Relationships, hookups, any of it."

-----------------------

I sat there, fidgeting with the empty coffee cup in my hand as my eyes scanned the slow stream of passerby for any sign of Mike. I'd arrived at 6:45 because of who I am as a person, but at some point I was going to have to admit the possibility that he had chosen not to be here. I glanced down at my phone. 7:12. At least the shop was busy enough that none of the baristas were paying attention to him. The only thing worse than being stood up was having witnesses.

Once the clock hit 7:15, I tossed the cup in the trash and headed out the door. It stung a bit. A lot a bit, actually. 80s movies had sorely misrepresented how easy it was to get into a relationship by being your authentic self. But if he truly wasn't interested, that was his choice to make. Showing up at his apartment with a boombox wasn't going to change anything.

"And just where do you think you're going, Kevin?"

I looked up to see a shirtless man with massive shoulders staring at me from the parking lot. "How do you… Mike, is that you in there?" He just smiled in response. "Mike, what the hell! Have you been standing here the whole time? I thought you stood me up!"

He shrugged. "Well, I considered going in there to join you, but… this felt like a good way to pay you back for your little stunt earlier today. I don't want you thinking that you'll always have the upper hand. And anyway, there's only the one door. It's not like I was going to lose track of you. Now get over here," he said as he pulled me into a bear hug.

I wanted to be angry, but it was hard to stay mad as I felt the warmth of his body against my chest, the smell of sweat and tobacco assaulting my nose from his current body. "Why do I get the feeling that one of our love languages is going to be pressing the other person's buttons?"

He looked up into my eyes and tousled my hair. "You're the one who wanted a relationship. You'll have to date all of me, not just the parts of me that fit your daydream." He was right, of course. Whether that was a promise or a threat, I could not say. But I was excited for the two of us to find out. Together.

[wosoluver]

To undo a mistake

part 2/17 - previous - next

Lena x Bayern player!reader

Lena Oberdorf Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

In front of me with her back turned was Lena.

Kissing a girl who had been cheering on from the stands the whole game.

Wearing her jersey too. I wondered if it was the same one I sent back in a box full of her stuff, the week after our last call.

It hurt. Like someone was ripping the last bit of hope you had, that there was a chance she would call one of these days and tell you she made a stupid mistake.

Out of everything that could've happened, that was the one you were least ready for.

Maybe just the fact that the break up was done through the phone, alone, should of raised a big red flag.

Should of raised the awareness that maybe you didn't know her like you thought you did.

That maybe, most likely, she wasn't the girl you fell for.

At that brought up so much anger. At first you kept fighting with yourself. With the feeling in your gut.

Trying to figure out what was going through her mind. And when you couldn't, it turned into you making up excuses for her.

But now reality had sinked in. You had tried so hard to keep this bitter feelings away. But you couldn't anymore.

The worst part in this, was that you had no right to say anything. You couldn't actually blame her for moving on with her life. What you could do, was blame her for being an asshole. And that you did.

You felt so embarrassed in front of your teammates. You wanted earth to swallow you whole.

You pushed it away momentarily though. You didn't want to be that person. Or didn't want them to think you were. The type that would throw away her professionalism because of some fling that happened to not work out.

Like that was more important, than the career you were building. The one thing you were dedicating yourself to, that wouldn't wake up one day and leave you.

You held your feelings in the whole trip back home. The girls didn't dare to talk to you. They saw on your face it wasn't a good idea.

Arriving home you exploded. You let that anger back out. You were red, your head felt like it could burst at any minute and you cried from anger.

You had the next day off. Sundays home were rare. And you thanked the universe. You didn't have to get up early, to get out of bed, to think, to exist.

And Monday rolled around rather quick. You were well rested. And all you wanted was to go training. To occupy your mind and let those cruel feelings out. Could even consider yourself to be excited.

That didn't last too long though.

As soon as you got to the locker room to get ready for the day, coach pulled you a side to talk about your failing performance.

After that sent you straight to the therapist's office. And if you refused, you'd have to sit out next couple of games.

Couldn't risk it.

Going into the waiting area, it was a pain knowing the therapist would only be in, in around 20 minutes and there was still someone else waiting to go in before you.

She gave you a slight tight lip smile as you sat next to her.

You knew her.

She had just arrived to the Bayern.

"Here for an appointment too?" - She asked sympathetic to the look in your face.

"Yep. Poor Performance. You?"

"Injury recovery."

You nodded along. -"The physio's room is the other way." - Immediately receiving a confused face from her.

"I'm joking!" - putting your hands up in defense. As she cracked a sly smile. - "I'm Y/N, we haven't had the chance to meet yet."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

I sooo excited for this story! Might post another part tonight! Hopefully next part has a little more stuff going on.

Who are we thinking the girl is? Or who do you wish it was?

If you want to support my work, there's a link in my pined post!

Lots of love 🩷

Taglist: @wosos-world

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Dear Resident Rohan Expert:

I'm not sure if you have given any thought to this, but I could sure use your help! What are your thoughts about how Rohan's government is structured, specifically the King's council at Edoras? I have assumed the King rules with full authority, but with the help of a council of advisors... but how do you think those advisors are selected? How many? Are they military men? Nobility? Elected? Appointed? Are they inherited titles?

Any of your thoughts would be appreciated since your grasp of Rohirrim culture is sounder than of anyone around! Thank you in advance! 😊

Ooh, this comes very close to giving me the chance to answer the question, “What was Éomer’s tax policy?” 😂 (Which, as a public policy major, is something I wouldn’t mind knowing about!) I have thought about Rohan’s government, and I hope you find my answer useful or at least interesting—it’s always my goal to live up to the praise you give me and to make my Rohan even close to being as well contextualized as your Mirkwood universe!!!

I’ve tried to keep a general structure for Rohan’s government in my mind that is at least quasi-related to the way that Anglo Saxon lands were governed, since they were Tolkien’s model. The big deviations are: 1) there is no mixing of religion and government like the Anglo Saxons did, since Rohan has no organized religion; and 2) I like to keep my Rohan government a little more democratic in the sense that everything isn’t based solely on nobility, inheritance or wealth. That’s partly because I don’t vibe with that approach, but also I feel like Tolkien gave us hints that the Rohirrim are pretty laid back about stuff like that anyway (like, Théoden is shockingly casual about the whole issue of royal succession, and he’s totally willing to take advice from guys like Háma or Wídfara even though we have no reason to believe they’re particularly wealthy or elite nobles).

So, the king has ultimate authority in Rohan and, starting with Éomer, that power is equally shared with the queen (I have to believe that he really took in what he learned about Éowyn’s experience in Rohan and would want things to change, starting with his own wife!). The monarchs exercise their authority with the help of a council. That council is comprised of: 1) the advisors of the royal household, a small group that is at Meduseld with the king and queen every day; and 2) the officers of the court, a bigger group who are out in the towns and villages as representatives of the crown. The entire council meets formally a few times a year to discuss and make recommendations on significant issues, though the king and queen can call them more often if needed. And when the officers of the court are back at their homes in between formal council meetings, the advisors of the royal household give the day-to-day advice or handle emergencies that crop up.

The royal household advisors are chosen by the king/queen and would generally include trusted family members as well as others who have distinguished themselves as being particularly skilled in relevant subjects. There would normally be 7 of these, with each specializing in a particular area: defense, diplomacy, justice/law, treasury, trade, infrastructure (roads, bridges, etc.) and public welfare (care of orphans, famine relief, what passed for public health in those days). But there could be more or less depending on the priorities of the particular king/queen, and the individual advisors might have their own staffs to help them.

The royal household advisors would often be members of the most prominent families in Rohan, if only because those are the people with the most access to the education and experience needed to become good at these things, but anyone can be chosen. And younger people of any background who are identified as being particularly bright and with a lot of potential might be referred to extra schooling/study with the idea of training them to be advisors, or work for them, in the future. (In my fics, this is how Gríma ended up in an advisor role – he failed out of éored training, but the brilliance of his mind was recognized, he was given the additional education to become an advisor on diplomatic affairs, got too close to Isengard and everything went to hell.) (It’s a good process, even though the one example I’ve just given is one where things did not work out well!)

The officers of the court who are spread throughout the land are chosen by their communities, though the king/queen can refuse to seat one that they don’t like or trust.* The king and queen decide how many officers there are, adding or subtracting as the population shifts, but there are generally 5 each from the West-mark and the East-mark and 3 from Edoras and its surrounding lands. These officers not only sit on the council that helps the king/queen set law and policy, but they’re also the first line administrators who see those policies carried out around the country (so, they hire the tax collectors in Dunharrow or the work crews that build the new road between Aldburg and Grimslade or whatever). That makes them kind of the face of the crown in most parts of Rohan where regular people are never going to see the king or queen (or, at least, not often). They can also draw on the expertise and knowledge of the royal household advisors as needed when carrying out royal policy.

Thank you again for the opportunity to write something that’s probably far too long about a niche topic that I find very interesting!! If anyone has their own ideas and thoughts—either complementary or conflicting—I would love to hear them. More Rohan for everyone! 👑🐎🗡️♥️

*A king/queen should really try to avoid doing this, especially if the person in question is really popular in their community and has any kind of independent power base. Don’t get me started on how Helm Hammerhand really fucked this up with a member of his own council and got a war started as a result.

[jowrites]

XOXO - 11. How comfort is a place named him (written)

Main Masterlist Here

Prev. Next.

TW: Sexual Themes, cursing, physical violence, insecurites, sad themes more to be added...

YN was sitting on her bed, staring down at the sonogram photo she received over her appointment. Staring down at the photo now made everything real. She was having a baby and they agreed to keep it. What was she thinking? She was farther along than she anticipated, 8 weeks, just 5 more weeks and she’ll be hitting her 2nd trimester. Her morning sickness was pretty controlled, she didn’t feel sick mostly, not until she thought of certain foods or smelled certain odors, so luckily nobody around her was suspecting anything. And soon, her stomach would be growing and growing. What was she going to do?

Her stomach made a noise and she sighed, she better get something to eat, for the both of them. What did she want? Suddenly, she had a craving for that toast Heeseung got her that morning after, she remembered him telling her it’s by the school. She took out her phone and quickly typed in the name ‘XOXO cafe’ and it came up. It was still open at 6 PM. Perfect. She quickly got up, putting the photo in her bag to make sure to bring to Heeseung, and getting on a  sweater and her shoes and walking out. She needed food and a good walk to clear her head.

********************

The cafe was cute. She approached it and noticed how the lights glimmered and it looked so inviting and cozy. Why was she so surprised? If it has anything to do with Heeseung, she is sure it's a comfort in a place. She walked up to the door, a man held it open for her as he was living and she quickly thanked him. There were 2 people standing behind the counter and she walked up, looking over the pastries in front of her and the menu on the wall. 

“Hi! Welcome! Have you been here before?” The man behind the counter greeted her.

“Oh, I’ve had it before, yes,” she nodded.

“Awesome, whenever you’re ready to order, no rush!” The man replied, giving her a kind smile. He looked like Heeseung so she could only assume this was his brother.

“Can I have avocado toast please? And a hot chocolate?” She ordered as he placed the order in. 

“That will be $7.34, please,” He held out his hand for her payment and she quickly gave him the payment. “Here’s your receipt.”

“Uhm, I don’t mean to sound creepy or anything,” She said. “Are you Heeseungs brother, by chance?”

“Heeseung? You know Heeseung?” He asked, smiling at her and she nodded.

“Yes, we have some classes together and he tutors me,” She said.

“Ah, that kid! Are you YN?” He asked.

“Yeah, he’s talked about me?” She asked.

“Yeah, sometimes I want him to come help and he ditches me to help you,” He exposed, and YN blushed.

“Oh, sorry,” She said. “I don’t mean to take up his time from the family business.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, if he’s helping you then it’s worth it,” He said. 

“YN?” Suddenly a voice spoke behind her and she turned around and saw Heeseung staring at her, and looking between her and his brother with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, there he is! Why didn’t you tell me you had such a pretty friend?” His brother said.

“Dude, come on!” Heeseung groaned. “Sorry about him.”

“What? It’s true!” His brother held up his hands in defense. “I’m just stating facts!”

“You guys are funny,” YN laughed at the two who were bickering.

“I’ll go make your order, YN, have a seat,” His brother then walked to the back and YN nodded, giving him a kind smile. 

“What about me?” Heeseung began to complain.

“Do it yourself,” His brother yelled out.

“Unbelievable,” Heeseung shook his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just was hungry and I remember this place and it wasn’t far from my apartment,” She nodded. “Sit with me, I have to show you something.”

The two sat at a table more towards the back for privacy. Heeseung sat across from her waiting for her to show him what she brought. She looked around, grabbing something from her bag and placing it face down in front of him.

“Be kind of discreet,” she said.

He flipped it over and looked at it, his brows going in a frown.

“When did you go?” He asked.

“I went today,” she said, playing with her fingers.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I would have gone with you,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed and YN started to feel guilty.

“I-I didn’t think you would have wanted to come,” she said.

“Of course I would, YN,” he sighed and placed the photo down. “I told you, I’m here to support you through everything. So next time, please tell me so I can come too. Okay?”

She looked at him, his eyes showed such real sincerity, he wasn’t angry at her. He didn’t yell. He just wanted her to understand and be there for her. How could she have been so stupid to not tell him and go alone? She always seemed to make the wrong choices. Before she knew it, tears were forming in her eyes and Heeseung’s face changed to concern and he got up and knelt down next to her. 

“YN, look at me, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you,” He said, the worry in his voice.

“Why aren’t you mad? You should be yelling at me by now,” she said, pathetically hitting his shoulder and he chuckled.

“Cute,” he said under his breath. “Why would I yell at you?”

“Because I did something wrong,” she said, sniffling her cries.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He said.

“I didn’t?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” He said as he held her cheek, they held eye contact and he wiped her tears from her face. “Why do pretty girls cry so much?”

“Pretty girls have a lot of problems,” she said and he laughed.

“I guess so,” he said. “I’ll go get your food, don’t worry.”

He got up and quickly went over and got the order from his brother, the two exchanging some looks before he came back, placing her food in front of her.

“This looks really good,” she said, her nose red as she sniffled. 

“Eat up, okay? Enjoy it,” he said, nodding towards the food. “And I can keep this, right?”

He held the photo and she nodded, cutting up some of her toast and eating it. 

“This is really good,” she said, beginning to cry again. “I’m crying because it’s just so good!”

Heeseung sat there, laughing at her cuteness. The swelling in his chest bursting, his body feeling warmer than ever. And in that moment, he knew he wanted to give her the world.

Taglist: @n1k1mura

[c-c-cherry]

Teru fic??

EDIT?** I've actually posted the full fic that this snippet is from. You'll probably have a more fulfilling time just reading it lol --> Click!

This is a response to the little wip "challenge" I posted a little while ago. Askbox is still open for those! (there's a few I still need to answer too) :)

Sorry this took so long! I wanna say…good choice? Probably because I’m almost done writing this one and then I can move onto editing. Assuming the Area Hysteria people reading this have also read Tenacious Terrain (building on one of the memory flashes involving Ritsu but also works as a standalone fic), this one follows a similar format.

I’ve been treating it as my warm-up to get back into Mob after awhile while simultaneously trying to write for the main AH storyline. But I also think publishing this story first might help with what I want to do later between Reigen and Teru if that makes sense? I think it fills a lot of unspoken gaps that I've really wanted to explore in the hysteriaverse so I've been having a lot of fun getting into it.

I’ll shut up now — here’s a snippy!

***

The pair walked down the street just as the sun started dipping below the trees. Reigen didn’t ask if Teru's parents were waiting for him at home, and he was grateful for it.

Teru usually found himself talking endlessly when going out with Kageyama or even Ritsu, just to fill up the fact that both usually didn’t say much at all. There was no need to do that with someone like Reigen. His energy could silence a room. Teru had seen it with Claw, the way everyone turned and gave him total control back when they first got captured. 

Reigen was evidently powerful in both the psychic world and the business world, but his words alone still poked through the sharpest of swords, more than Teru’s power ever could.

“Mob and I come here if we end up working past dinner,” Reigen held the door open for him, and Teru watched as the man greeted the host as if he knew her. He took off his jacket and gestured for Teru to follow. “This booth has the best view. It’s great while it's raining, but sunny weather will do just fine.”

The man rolled up his white sleeves and sighed in content. Teru attempted to relax his shoulders and calm his heart, pretending he wasn’t having dinner with Reigen Arataka, 21st century’s greatest psychic and Teru’s new temporary boss. Thoughts about what to do with that daunting guardianship form still plagued the back of his mind but he forced himself to push it back further and look up at the approaching waiter.

“No bowl-cut today?” she asked curiously, passing out the menus, “I haven’t seen the two of you come around here in a bit.” 

“Who, Mob?” Reigen chuckled, “The kid’s got a marathon at school to run. I’ve got a few of his friends helping me out.”

Teru melted into the foam booth, letting it press up against his back as the two conversed. It had been awhile since he’d felt this cozy. He wondered if it was the ambience of this place, or Reigen’s mere presence putting him at ease.

“Before I forget,” Reigen rummaged through his briefcase once they had both ordered and pulled out his phone. “I’ll give you my number so we can keep in touch. I might need you earlier or later depending on exorcism appointments. It’ll be nice to have you filed away for when I need you this week.”

Reigen wanted his phone number? Teru stared down at his food piping hot in front of him. He wondered if Reigen would pay for this, too. Based on what Kageyama had said about him, the man would no doubt slip a few bills on the table regardless of whether Teru pulled out his card to cover his half of the bill. Reigen would probably walk him home too while he was at it. 

“Sure, I-” he stuttered, trying to find his voice. This wasn’t like him. Reigen must have known that too, despite barely knowing him at all. The man leaned over and placed his hands up defensively, his rolled sleeves slipping back down and grey jacket discarded beside him.

“Unless you think that’s overstepping. I just like to have everyone’s names on hand. If you aren’t comfortable with it, don’t worry about it. I don’t have to have you on-call all the time like I do with Mob…though it would be pretty helpful for emergency exorcisms…” 

Teru didn’t wait around to hear what else the man was saying. Reigen was so confident, so powerful, so cool, and all Teru wanted to do was impress him. 

Be reliable. He could be reliable. 

Teru pulled out his phone, flipped through his contacts and tried to find the phone number that he still hadn’t memorized after getting a new number a few months back. His father had paid for it, of course. He hadn’t seen his father’s face in years, but the man still paid for everything so long as Teru could forge his signature.

His head went back to those stupid forms in his bag. To think the school had waited this long before asking him to prove his parents’ existence outside of a signature.

“Here,” he pushed his phone over to him, pulling a grin over his face. “I’d be happy to help you out in Kageyama’s stead as much as you need.” He’d even be willing to skip school, maybe never show up at school again if it meant no one would interrogate him about his familial situation. But perhaps that was a different kind of commitment. 

Reigen smiled back, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. “That was quick. Thanks a bunch, Hanaza—"

“—Teruki,” he corrected, before realizing that he’d interrupted Reigen Arataka, 21st Century’s Greatest Psychic and the only adult who had ever asked him for his number to make sure he was around and alright. “Teruki’s fine. Or Teru.”

Reigen snorted, taking his chopsticks and dipping them into his bowl. “Teruki for now. But don’t think you can just go around calling me Arataka…at least, not in front of Ritsu. Sometimes it feels like that kid is just trying to find his footing before pouncing on someone like me.” Reigen’s eyes locked onto him, suddenly serious. “You wouldn’t want to be responsible for a dead man…would you, kid?” 

“Oh,” Teru’s face surely looked stupid, the way it glowed. “No, I would never—”

“Kids these days are so dense! I’m just messing around,” the man snickered back, followed by the slurping of noodles. “Mmmh..this place never fails to amaze my taste buds after such a long day.” He banged on the table softly with his fist. “Well, eat up! Here’s to a very productive first day.”

A thought grazed Teru’s head as he tipped the bowl up to his lips. 

It was a very selfish, self-serving thought. One that accompanied a methodical plan that slowly began to form in the back of his mind. Reigen was a responsible, giving person. He was mystical, busy, a very busy man. He lived here in Seasoning City. If Teru could guess, he was almost at the age of 30—a very responsible age for a very responsible, reliable, busy man. He was a model citizen, really. He even went above and beyond to inspire others around him.

As of this moment, Teru worked alongside Reigen. He had access to his files, which probably contained most of his information if he looked around hard enough for it. Maybe this would finally get the school off his back. 

And who says the man even has to know?

[heart-sized]

chapter one, flowers for you, s. snape

★⺌◞ : severus snape x f! professor reader

cw : slight age gap, mention of possessiveness and jealousy, none else that i know of

a/n ; lmao i remember writing this long assed fic last year might as well post it + au where there is no voldy & lily potter is alive

other chapters : prologue

masterlist // taglist

“you seriously cannot expect me to go to hogwarts!” you fling your hands in the air, staring in disbelief at your parents who very much expect you to do the same.

“i cannot see why you've so much problem going there,” your mother argues, “it was your dad's, mine, your sister's alma mater.”

but not mine. you want to say.

“i have my whole life here, ma,” you rub your forehead and look at your dad, “i have a good job here, a stable job. what chances are there that i will get the same stability at hogwarts?”

“you're not a nobody!” your mother and former gryffindor urges, “surely you don't possess the wizardry gene, but your father was a professor there. your sister and i were star quidditch players. there's no chance they'll not provide you the same stability.”

ouch. that was rude. it is not as if you yourself have removed the wizardry gene from your dna. tears threaten to bubble out from your eyes.

“darling, shh,” your dad intervened, “talk to her softly. why are you yelling at her? y/n, dear, listen to me. the only reason why i am asking you to start hogwarts as a professor is because everyone keeps on wondering why i have secluded my middle child from that world.”

not secluded, dad. you were never a part of that world.

“and also,” he points towards your eleven years old brother who is busy playing his video game, “your brother is starting hogwarts soon. it will give me a sense of surety that his sister will be there to protect him. do it for our sake, please?”

it is hard for you to say no to your dad. even he knows that. so even though every part of your body wants to refuse, you let out a small nod and the beaming smile on your dad's face makes you feel a little better.

“thank you, my child.” he pats your head lightly.

you, the middle child, the only muggle child in your family, make your way towards your room, softly stopping to stare at the family pictures. your father, kiann l/n is a proud gryffindor, who later became the professor of defense against dark arts in hogwarts, retiring only when you didn't get your appointment letter from the school of witchcraft and wizardry. your mother, sierra l/n, was also a gryffindor and a star quidditch player, a few years junior to your father. they had married a few years after he had graduated. and your sister? sara l/n was a ravenclaw, a genius student and a star quidditch player. you remember how the dining table talk would be full of her achievements back in her hogwarts days. and your brother, the youngest one in the family, kyrus l/n, just received his appointment letter a few days ago.

in short, you are the only one to disappoint your family. the muggle disappointment.

in fact, you don't hate your dad for asking you to fill up as the new hogwarts professor. the wizardry world is in fact curious about you. but what they don't know is that you are no one special. just a normal human girl whose life would have been dozens of times better if only the wizardry world doesn't exist.

according to your parents, you would leave for hogwarts the next day with your brother. so you make up your mind to pack your bags at night while at the present moment, you decide to visit your friends.

oh and what excuse could you even give them for your prolonged absence? oh, forgive me you all but i cannot meet you again because i have to teach in a wizardry cult of school in a wizardry world because everyone in my family is a wizard except for me? no thanks.

you find your mother cooking in the kitchen and decide to ignore her and make your way towards the door.

“y/n?”

oops. you turn to see your mother. “i am sorry, my child,” her eyes are soft, as if she had cried, “i didn't mean to be so hard on you.”

“i know, ma,” you attempt to smile, “you didn't mean to be hard on me. you just reminded me of how different i am from the rest of you.”

“what?” to say your best friend is shocked would be an understatement. her eyes are wide open as she stares at you. “we cannot meet for a few months? a few months? what kind of cult are you joining?”

you laugh and take your sweet moment sipping on your lemon juice while your best friend waits impatiently. “it's not a cult, sophie. it's my parents' alma mater and it is a super strict, boring kind of boarding school.”

“i will miss you!” the redhead pouts. “did you tell dylan about it?”

you pause. dylan was your coworker in the company that you worked at and you had gone on a few dates together. but it was not anything serious. “no, i haven't. honestly i don't want it to be known by anyone except for you and obviously, micah. hey, where is micah even, by the way?”

“i don't know?” sophie furrows her eyebrows and looks around. “he had said that he'd be here on time.”

“trust him to be late even today,” you scoff.

“two roses,” a hand holding two roses comes in your view, “for the two most beautiful ladies in the world.”

“micah!” both sophie and you speak simultaneously and the said guy sits down beside sophie with a smirk.

“so i have heard that you're joining a cult, y/n?” he asks, sipping on sophie's chai without her permission. “what extent are you going to go just to please your parents?”

“it's not a cult, micah!” you roll your eyes, “and i am not doing it to please my parents.” liar. “i'm doing it because it's expected of me to do.”

“same thing.”

“can we not argue today?” sophie butts in, her eyes pleading. “it's y/n's last day with us, at least, for a few months. let's make it a memorable one. what do you guys say?”

and boy is it memorable. you enjoy each and every part of it, from playing at the swings to sliding from the slider and to the movies. for you knew that the next few months are going to be hard for you. very hard.

“just so you know, i love you guys a lot,” you even sob a bit. the public declaration of love is something so not you, but you feel like a little scared kid who knows that you are going to be away from the people you loved for a long time. and when they hug you back, you realis that you haven't cherished your friendships the way you should have. even micah's.

and when you lie down in bed that night to sleep, you ponder over micah's words. was he not right? what more extent would you go just to please her parents? just to not be a disappointment anymore?

the next day is spent in a jiffy and the next thing you know, you are standing at the 9½ station, holding your brother's hand. your dad is there to see you off and as he kissed your foreheads, you sigh. it is worth it. everything is worth it just to see him happy. even going to some stupid school of witchcraft and wizardry and teaching those stupid students. you can do that all just to see that smile on your dad's face.

ᝬ ˙.໑ ╱ © tojiciu 2023 — all rights reserved. property of ciu

[fuck-customers]

hey gang! me again (from /post/741038774641983488, bitching about the two coworkers and the filthy deli slicer), and i guess we couldn’t go three days/two shifts without more bullshit from J1! as i write this it’s currently the morning after the shift described below. thankfully, i have the day off today, due to a prior appointment, so i might be able to wind down again before going in again tomorrow afternoon.

so before Chef C left on the hell shift prior, he asked me to be there at noon, when the first folks are showing up for their prep. good thing, too, because shortly after i arrive, before i even clock in, the head line cook (M) that showed up the same time i did informs me that he’s just gotten a text from C saying that both the sous chef S and the pantry cook J1 have called out for the day, leaving me as (currently) the only person available with any experience on pantry.

before i switched mostly to dish, this was fine, because i could rest assured that the old pantry lead (name irrelevant; no longer works there) would have as much as possible done and prepped for the next shift, even with the one day off we had between. the only time she wouldn’t is if the store was going to be closed for 3-4+ days straight and we needed to be concerned about spoilage. thus i would be left with minimal prep actually needed to be done and could just focus on the essentials.

considering this prior prep cook is the one who trained me and J1, it’d be safe to assume that she’d follow the same practices, right? well, clearly, that’s giving her too much credit, because again, i never got trained to any degree on how to make the vast majority of what gets “cooked” for pantry, and apparently she’s incapable of planning ahead even if for no other reason than to simply make her own job easier.

to make matters worse, we had just gotten a shipment, so the walk-in was packed full without any room to get around; i’d have put it away myself, but i don’t know where the vast majority of the shit goes, and i don’t want to fuck up the already tenuous inventory log situation that C constantly grouses about. i’m resultantly unable to get counts for anything we already have, so for the time being i focus on what i am able to easily access to get done, which is mostly plating desserts.

after a couple hours, a temp (E) comes in to help. there is a language barrier and she has never worked pantry before, only line, so i have to train her (through translation apps and my own rudimentary kitchen spanish) while also trying to figure out what the hell i’m doing myself. chef doesn’t get around to teaching me how to make two of the items we need until about half an hour before service starts, meaning i once again did not get a break and had to rush through making them myself, while i also try to get E set up with making sure everything she could put together was ready for service.

as you can probably imagine, this doesn’t go particularly well! E does great with the actual prep stuff, with dressing the cold cured meat dish and this that and the other, but as soon as we get to service it becomes an absolute shitshow. apparently nobody taught E on line that you need to send dishes out in the order the tickets come in, so we’re 15 tickets deep with more printing, and she’s ignoring things i specifically showed her how to make while we were slow to, instead, pull from the end of the queue to make salads that i keep having to drop what i’m doing to coach her on how to make correctly when they have a special request applied.

ultimately this results in me getting scolded by the GM/service lead to send tickets out in order, to which i just respond that “i’m trying,” and M comes to my defense when i can’t hear it to point out that i really wasn’t set up for success today, and folks kind of back off. thankfully we only end up with one extra dish (to my knowledge? something was said about extra carrot cakes but they were never brought back) and it’s just like. a half salad that E didn’t prep right so we couldn’t send it out.

insult to injury is that there were actually others present who had worked pantry before. one of the expo cooks (D) actually comes back to help J1 all the time, but because of S being absent he had to focus on expo—and he ended up leaving before dinner service without raising a finger or even pausing to ask to make sure i was going to be okay with just me and the temp. D’s got a problem habit of leaving without doing everything that needs done, anyway, which ended up resulting in J2 getting forced into overtime to pick up his and J1’s slack on that front, which is why he wasn’t there for this shift. probably ultimately for the better but i really would have appreciated the extra pair of hands.

due to the string of buffoonery that resulted in us missing no less than 3 kitchen staff and damn near everyone who knew how to do anything of substance on pantry, i wasn’t really given an opportunity to call for help. thankfully M had my back and nobody seems to have any hard feelings now that it was made clear to them that i wasn’t given room to do anything but struggle, and the GM and service staff took it pretty well when i apologized for how much of a shitshow pantry became, but i really should not have been left drowning like that in the first place.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[plasticflwrs]

⠀⠀   ⠀┈─ NOTHING NEW ⠀⠀／ ⠀⠀ an oliver song story ( 2022 ).

RACH. I wrote it when I was 19, and I've written a lot of other things since, and it's just... what if... what if that was the one... what if that was the one, best thing I'll ever do and I spend the rest of my life just getting worse and worse and drying up, uninspired, and I never become great. — The Prelude by Dave Malloy.

WORD COUNT. 3.2k words. WARNINGS / NOTES. Discussions of mental health symptoms related to general anxiety and major depressive episodes. (Passive) suicidal ideation. Alcohol mention. Originally published in 2023, but now featuring small changes of names and timeline ( rip minghui 😔 ).

“GOOD TO SEE YOU, OLIVER,” Yeonghui smiles as she lets Oliver into her office. “You never answered my text messages. I was worried about you.”

Oliver knows what Yeonghui is doing. 

She’s been worried about Oliver more recently as the bags under his eyes become more prominent and the schedule is more focused on going out with friends than actually writing their next album. This impromptu therapy session was not going to solve any of their current problems and he had other events to attend. Drinks with Rowan, Jiyeon, and old friends. A phone call with his mother. A real therapy appointment. 

Oliver is a busy person and finding a break in their hectic schedule was almost impossible. If the opportunity presented itself, he was going to take it. In reality, he never fully disconnected from his idol life. Always created new voice memos for new music, hid behind a mask so he wasn’t recognized, and appeared on the social media of his closest friends to get the band’s name out there. He liked to create a separation between his personal and professional life but the lines had blurred at the end of 2020.

He doesn’t understand why this is such a big deal.

He had written some of their discography before this album and the rest had been solely written by Salem before that. Yes, they had been missing for sixteen months, but, he was not the only member able to write music. Since he had returned from the states a few months ago, these meetings to discuss "music" (read: his personal life) had become more often. She was more open about her demands for a new album and Oliver was growing tired of it. He knew Salem had enough drafts to cover them for a few years at minimum, Jiyeon had showed him a few things, and even Junyeong of all people brought up a new drum line during their last practice.

Why was Yeonghui not calling them every day? He never understood her actions.

Oliver gives her a smile, the same that fans gushed about on Twitter and he had perfected over the years before speaking, “I’m fine. You know I’m allergic to my cellphone. I never answer anyone.”

“I’ve known you for almost seven years so I’m allowed to worry,” Yeonghui replies, keeping her voice even and her smile is tight-lipped, a sign of annoyance. She’s known amongst the artists for her quick temper. “Everybody is worried about you.”

“Everybody?” he questions. Oliver knows for certain that some people could care less about his health right now.

“Yes, everybody that’s important, which is your managers and myself. You know we have a comeback scheduled for the end of his quarter and I needed to know how that was going. There’s a lot riding on this, as you know.” 

Oliver leans back in the armchair and crosses his arms, defensively. “Have you asked Salem or JIyeon yet? They seemed… excited to run a project.”

She shakes her head and says, “we don’t want that. Plastic Flowers has been out of the public eye for ten months, so we need to retain any relevance from Teeth last year and that will only come from you."

“What if I don’t want to?” Oliver challenges and both of them are surprised by his attempts at talking back. 

“We can’t force you, of course,” Yeonghui says, leaning closer to Oliver. “But, I can cancel this album and make sure it looks like your fault. Junyeong and Salem are already upset, Jiyeon just sent us a lovely demo to compliment what you’ve already written, and Deurim's growing restless without any work. It would be very easy to recreate that outrage. Your choice, Oliver.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, remaining in that defensive position as she meets his stare directly. Oliver has always had an interesting relationship with his CEO and has never gone directly against her in their seven years of working together. He is a people pleaser at heart and at this moment, he wants to continue the fight against her but also knows that Yeonghui isn’t one to bluff. Sure, she’s prone to exaggerations to get her way nonetheless, she would find a way to twist these events in her favor and they both know that.

“Fine. I’ll send you some files later tonight.”

“Great. Why don’t we find some inspiration right now though? We have big plans for the promotion of this album,” she smiles, satisfied with winning the conversation, and opens her notebook to keep track. “So, how have your days been?”

First, he wakes up at eleven-forty-five. 

He pulls himself out of his bed and reluctantly puts on a new pair of clothes, brushing his hair of any knots before entering the living room. Salem gives him an annoyed look as she clears off the table from that morning’s breakfast. Junyeong is in the shower after his daily workout. Deurim doesn’t pay him any attention, she’s too focused on trying to learn all their old music from Minghui's poorly taken notes. Jiyeon is drinking her coffee and reading some book, pretending she doesn’t see him, but Oliver can see her eyes flicker around the room. She looks from the corner of her eyes to watch his every move like he was going to do something stupid if she didn’t.  

Oliver can’t find it in himself to care.

He wishes Jiyeon a good morning, the smile and light excitement in his voice not reaching any other part of his face. He’s never been that good of an actor. Jiyeon smiles back, small, and thanks him before returning to her book, leaving them in silence as the microwave hums. He wishes he could be better for her and provide their relationship with something indispensable. Instead, their days were spent inside his shared bedroom with Minghui and recounting the one-sided disagreements between the oldest members and Oliver in their debriefs. It was all they discussed recently and he wanted to bury those feelings of resentment. There was nothing Oliver could do to change their minds and he was not going to make the first move to repair their relationship. Salem had said enough during their last practice session. 

( She had gone on and on and on about how boring his latest composition was. It played too much into the tropes of the last two albums and whatever he released on Soundcloud. The fans were going to get bored and he could not handle their criticism as she could. The last single she had written performed at the same level as they did in 2019, right after his Superband appearance. It was Oliver that had given them popularity in the first place and she hated that. 

“Have you written anything yet?” he asks, not hiding his annoyance. That shuts her up and they return to working in silence, the only sounds coming from his pen scratching against paper and her acoustic guitar. He sighs and almost apologizes. Almost. )

Jiyeon is good friends to have, despite the lulls in their conversations these days. He knows it's his fault for that too. She provided feedback on his latest demos, offered to plan a celebration for his return to South Korea, and gave him enough time to melt into his bed after long meetings. She never rushed Oliver into hanging out and understood that he needed some time to himself. He needs to step up and be there for her. Invite her out or something, stop locking himself in his room. She deserved better friends than Oliver.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” Jiyeon asks, testing the waters of that day.

“Not really, um—” Oliver begins to answer as his phone rings in his pocket. Another missed call from his mother. The third of that day. He gives Jiyeon an apologetic look before slipping back into his bedroom to answer. “I’ll be right back.” She just nods and goes back to her book. 

“Hi mom,” he tries to sound happier and it almost works.  “How are you? Isn’t it like close to midnight back home?” 

His mother, despite the time difference, is ecstatic to hear from him. “Oh, Oliver,” she gushes. “I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep and wanted to see if you would pick up.”

Kathleen Suh is a wonderful mother and person, easily one of Oliver’s favorites. Until his step-father taught Oliver how to play the piano, he wanted to emulate her. He wanted to attend Harvard University, he wanted to study history, he wanted to have a family of his own, and he wanted to be happy. His mother accepted the idea of his debut easily, wishing him nothing but the best for those years of training. She would send him money for food, new sneakers, and anything that the company needed. Oliver was forced to just take it since she would not take no for an answer. Now, he does the same and plus some extra gifts for his family. Two weeks ago, his checking account showed a small dip as he provided Harry, his younger brother, with a new Macbook for his final years of high school.

She’s happy to hear from Oliver, unsurprisingly. It's been two full months since they’ve last spoken and Oliver covers it with an excuse about being busy with writing for their new album. She accepts it and they move on to a conversation about his siblings with Ivy’s recent engagement still being the talk of the town and Harry’s already joined the poetry club, making friends already. He’s glad to hear that they are happy and healthy. Maybe he should call them this weekend… Did they even want to hear from him, though? Oliver wasn’t sure. It had been months since he initiated contact and would not blame his siblings for ignoring his future attempts to reach out.

The call continues like this for almost an hour. They go through the important details that Oliver would have missed from the stateside and Oliver give her any information about Plastic Flowers. Its a nice change of pace compared to the rest of the week, which was spent dreadfully alone. Oliver is an introvert at heart, but having these catch up calls with his mother wasn’t the same as meeting friends. They could never drain him.

However, the tone changes for the worst.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” she asks and any good feeling leaves his body at that moment.

 Oliver hates when she does this to him and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. He gets it, really. Not hearing from their children would get anyone in a sentimental mood but Oliver hated discussing his current feelings with anyone and did not want to worry his mother. After a few moments, he answers, “I’m fine, mom. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve just been busy preparing for this album,” A pause in the conversation. Neither of them speaks so Oliver ends the conversation there. “It’s late in Boston so I’m going to hang up now. I love you.” 

Before he ends their call, his mother bids him goodbye and tells him that she loves him too. A hand goes through his dark brown hair, recently fixed from the bleaching sessions of the year prior, and he sighs loudly, flopping onto his mattress. Oliver, for the thousandth time within two hours of being awake, wishes that he was a better person and most importantly, a better son. If he didn’t feel like this, his mother would not have to worry about him and life would be easier for everyone. 

Without him…

 Nevermind. 

Jiyeon don’t want him thinking like that anymore. ‘It’s not good for the band,’ Jiyeon had said a few months ago, sitting on the balcony with three bottles of white wine between them. They always ended up back there, like in the old days, where they felt on top of the world and like nothing could truly hurt them. The days before he realized the band’s relationship breaking down in front of him and along with the divide between his personal and public life. It has always been the three of them against the world with Salem and Junyeong drifting in and out, depending on their feelings toward the youngest members at the time.

He still remembers the celebrations that came with their first single to enter the top ten in the music charts. At the moment, it felt like things were changing for the better. Less glaring and more attempts at working together, the creation of 403 a few months later, and securing their first win.

It was going well… until it wasn’t.

And the world would turn without Oliver Song for a comeback. He was sure of it. It might not reach the same success as Salem indulged in a more niche audience and the general public was not her biggest fan these days, but that was okay with him. It was the company's problem and they would have to work hard to rectify that. If Yeonghui could turn the world against him, she could definitely change the public opinion of Salem in a matter of a few weeks. At the same time, the band might not survive without the input of Oliver as the public’s favorite member and the lead vocalist of Plastic Flowers. While Oliver could take himself from the equation, with the fanbase also divided between favorite members, showing a weakened lineup could spell disaster. Rumors would circulate and the world would stop turning and Oliver would be lost forever, with—

“Oliver? Are you okay? You’ve been in here for, like, three hours,” Deurim's voice interrupts his spiraling and she’s standing just outside of the doorframe with an odd look on her face. 

Glancing down at his phone, Oliver could have sworn it was only two in the afternoon last time he had checked and now it was nearing four, closer to the end of the day than the beginning and yet another day lost to his downward spiral. This had been happening a lot more lately, with days blending into nights and the inability to be in the moment. He was always stuck between the past and the future, there was no time to worry about the present and he could not stop moving even for a moment. There was always something to do, even if that was nothing in reality.

“God fucking—” Oliver swears as he sits up, all the blood rushing to his head, and goes to his closet. “I should have set an alarm. I’m going to be so late.”

Deurim watches as he stumbles around the room, pulling a sweater and a new pair of socks from his bedside table. “Late for what?” she asks.

“I have a meeting with Yeonghui in a few minutes. She’s having one of her moments about a new record, I just need to appease her for now. I’ll still make dinner later.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough to go? You look like shit, Oliver,” Deurim remarks. 

“What are you talking about?” It's at that exact moment that Oliver gets a closer look at himself in the mirror and pauses for a moment. “Oh. Well, that’s nothing a bit of makeup can’t fix. I’ll just put it on in the car, no big deal,” Oliver’s voice is quicker than normal as the nerves start to get too much and he offers his roommate what should be a smile. Things are suddenly moving miles per minute. “Reservation is for seven, right? I can meet you guys at the restaurant if she runs over time, I’ll keep you and Jiyeon updated, yeah?”

Oliver is not doing well and someone else had noticed. So much for not making anyone worry anymore.

Anyone could see that from miles away. He hasn’t only lost weight over the last few months, but the dark circles have grown, and much more affect his naturally bright appearance. Before this moment, he never had the chance to truly look at himself in the mirror but it seems that the reaction of not only Deurim but the small gasps from the makeup artists was warranted. Oliver isn’t sure when it all got this bad, but, he can fix it, no problem. Starting that night he would change his life for the better. More meals, a peaceful rest, and spending time with Jiyeon was first on the list. That would help him feel better. (Hopefully). 

Deurim nods, still looking uncomfortable. They both know stopping Oliver from going to this meeting would be near impossible, he hated missing tasks. “Sounds like a plan. Good luck with the meeting.”

In a few minutes, he is not only ready for the meeting but his plans for after. Their manager knocks on the door and Oliver and escorted to the Superbloom Media headquarters, just ten minutes down the road. The ride is quiet save for the soft lull of whatever song was currently going viral in South Korea and his manager taps the steering wheel to the beat to save them from complete silence. Oliver is thankful that he doesn’t ask many questions and just goes along with whatever the members were feeling to keep his job. At some points, Oliver thinks that the manager is looking at him before remembering that checking your mirrors is always an important safety measure, especially as he turns street corners.

They park in the artists-only lot, the third floor of the private parking garage and he is left to his own devices. The manager has to pick up something else for the members, something that Salem requested from the shop down the street and he wishes Oliver good luck. They both know that he would need it. 

That was Oliver’s day.

That had been Oliver’s day for the last three months and it seems like nothing will change. 

The only changes come from whatever plans are happening at the same time, guided through the motions by either his bandmates or manager. Nothing ever seemed to change and after a while, it all blended together. Yeonghui isn’t satisfied with his answer and she stopped writing a few minutes into his attempts at recounting his day.

“And, how long have you been like this?”

“Three months.”

She is silent for a moment. “That’s a long time.”

“I know.”

“What happened three months ago?” she asks, trying to get more information out of him. 

Oliver shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Pt. 29

Woooooooww. It's been WAY too long! I'm so sorry my loves. Thank you for still reading my content though! I can't tell youhow much it means to me. You all are amazing and make my day by your likes and comments! I lost a lot of inspiration towards the end of last year and it was hard to write when you don't have that or any of the creative juices flowing, but I fought it because of you guys, so thank you for keeping me writing! Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much love!

February 28, 1979

Point Place, Wisconsin

Forman Residence

Eric Forman’s Basement

“You guys, listen to this ad,” Eric announced. “Do you like to draw? Well, I have been known to trace my hand and turn it into a turkey. If so, have your artistic ability evaluated by the cartoon academy of Fort Lauderdale.”

“Ooh, I think Picasso went there,” Kelso said.

“All I have to do is send in my drawing of Sanchez the turtle and a money order for $19.95. 20 bucks to get judged by a panel of cartoon experts? I'd pay twice that,” Eric said, grabbing a pad and pen.

“Okay, besides that, Donna…how’s the radio station going?” Jackie asked.

“It’s good,” she responded. “I get to host Tuesdays and Thursday’s from one to five A.M. Boss man is even thinking of letting me cohost with—get this—Jerry Thunder!”

“That’s awesome!” Kelso cried out excitedly. “You get to work with ‘The Sound!’” He lowered his voice, imitating the radio station announcement.

“Do you have any idea what this could mean for my career?” Donna continued.

"Oh, my God! You're going to be famous!" Jackie squealed.

“Exactly,” Eric responded. “Awe, my girl is going to be radio famous.”

“What about you, Steven?” Jackie asked, turning to him. “How’s work going?”

“Fine?” Hyde questioned, eyeing her. “Why are you so interested in other people’s lives?”

“Can’t I be interested in my friends’ lives?” she asked innocently.

“No,” he said flatly. “You’ve never have. What’s gotten into you?”

She sighed. “Well, Markus told me that I need to start taking an interest in other people’s lives other than my own, otherwise people won’t really love me like they say they do. And when I said that they do actually love me, he said they were lying to me. Is that true?”

Everyone went silent; not knowing how to respond.

Y/n clicked her tongue. “Um…well…”

“Who’s going to tell her?” Hyde asked. “Because I’m about to hurt her feelings."

“Oh, it’s true!” Jackie whined. “I thought I was being lovable. You know—like the nice princess from The Wizard of Oz.”

“Yeah,” Eric said slowly. “You’re not. You’re more like the wicked witch of the west.”   

“Alright, as fun as this is, I need to get to work,” Hyde announced.

“Who’s running the store while you’re here?” Donna asked.

“Angie. She’s really wound tight on when we open,” he responded, rolling his eyes. “She’s always bitching about me not being there early and opening up on time and not closing early. It’s stupid.”

“Man, Angie is so pretty,” Kelso cooed.

“What have I said when talking about my sister?” Hyde asked gruffly.

“Don’t put her name or pretty or anything of the like in the same sentence,” he responded, not making eye contact.

“That’s right,” Hyde responded. “Anyway, Angie likes to jump my ass about everything. I didn’t close last night so now it’s apparently my fault that the store looked like a mess this morning.”

“Well, then who closed?” Y/n asked.

“Me. I closed six hours early and apparently that’s bad business. But in my defense, I had an important appointment to go to.”

“Oh, your baby appointments?” Kelso asked as he started throwing a ball into the air.

“No, I had an appointment at my darts tournament.”

  “Steven,” Y/n lectured. “I know your sister is hard to work with but maybe you shouldn’t make her make your life more miserable.”

“Betrayal!” Steven cried out, pretending to be offended at his wife.

Y/n shook her head at him.

“I thought you guys didn’t get along?” Fez asked. “Why are you defending her?”

“Hey, right is right and wrong is wrong,” she replied. “And right now, Steven is wrong.”

“I think this calls for a divorce,” Eric said.

“Shut up, Eric,” Y/n said, propping her feet up on the table. “Steven, if you want her to get off your ass, maybe try pulling your weight around the store. It’s called running a business.”

“I’d hate to admit it, Hyde, but she’s right,” Donna said.

 “What’s going on here?” Hyde asked. “I can’t believe you’re on her side!”

“Normally I wouldn’t be, but this time she’s right,” Y/n responded. “It’s like me doing all the cooking and cleaning around the house and taking care of the kids while you’re away at work, and then coming home just to go to bed.”

Steven blinked at her. “Okay, where’s the lesson in that?”

“Steven!” she screeched. “My point is you can’t just show up and not expect to do any work. Especially at your own store.”

Steven made a face and sighed. “Fine. But I’m going to complain the whole time.”

She shook her head at him. “That’s fine. As long as work gets done. And I expect the same at home too!”

“Sure. But just so you know you’re going to have pay me too.”

“I can’t. It’s illegal if I do,” she sassed.

He smirked at her. “I love you.”

She smiled. “Love you, too.”

“Alright, well, I’m going.”

“Oh, don’t forget, we have a class later tonight.”

  “What class?”

 “A class on how to take care of a baby,” she said. “Remember? I signed us up for it with my mom. The same class Kelso and Brooke took.”

He groaned. “Come on, Y/n, do I really have to go?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m not going to be the only one changing poopy diapers.”

“See, I was thinking I could be in charge of what goes into the babies and you’re in charge of what comes out.” The look on her face said otherwise. “Fine.”

She perked up immediately. “Thank you. It’s at 6. Be here by 5:30.”

He huffed. “Okay.” With that, he walked out the basement, leaving the rest behind.

 “And I’m hungry,” Y/n said and brought her feet down. “Babies and I want a snack. Maybe a bowl of fruit. And then some ice cream.” As she struggled to get up, Donna reached out to her. “No, no I got it.” She pushed herself up, but fell back into the chair. She sucked in a breath and launched herself out of the chair, barley landing on her feet. “See,” she said, breathing hard. “I got it.” She wobbled upstairs.

“What did she mean by that?” Fez asked innocently.

“What do you mean?” Jackie asked.

“When she said it’s illegal if she pays him. I thought getting an allowance was normal?”

Everyone giggled.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Think about it, Fez,” Jackie said. “Really think. Long and hard.”

Fez was quiet as everyone looked at him, waiting for him to get it. It didn’t take a long for a sly smile to break out on his face. He giggled. “I get it.”

“We should probably go too,” Kelso said and tapped Fez’s shoulder. “We have an apartment that we’re going to go look at.”

“You guys haven’t found an apartment yet?” Jackie asked. “Fez, where have you been sleeping this whole time?”

 “With me,” Kelso responded. “But I think my parents are getting sick of us.”

“What—you guys giggle like a bunch of school girls all night?” Donna chuckled.

Fez’s eyes grew a fraction. “Have you guys been spying on us?!”

“It’s true?!” Eric said, laughing.

“You know what? We really need to get going,” Kelso said and grabbed the scruff of Fez’s jacket. “See ya!”

“I swear, they’re in love or something,” Donna chuckled.

“Eh,” Eric shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

                                    --Time Skip—

Y/n and Steven walked into the classroom that night. Plastic babies littered the room and a few other soon-to-be parents were all there and seated.

“Come on, Y/n, do we really have to do this?” Steven whined.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “We’ve never been around babies before so we need to be prepared.”

Just as she said that, a large impregnated woman waddled by them and sat in a seat farthest away from them.

“Oh, my God,” Y/n said under her breath. “She has to be in her third trimester. That looks painful.”

“Either she’s having multiple kids or her baby is going to rip her apart.”

“Not helping, Steven.”

“Hey, you two,” Kitty cooed excitedly as she walked up to the couple. “Steven, you ready to talk about burps, boo-boo’s, and binkies?”

“Yeah, sure,” he responded flatly.

“Oh, come on don’t be such a sour puss,” Kitty said. “You should be glad to be here! Especially since I’m going to be the one to guide you into parenthood.” She gave them an excited, crinkled smile.

“I wouldn’t say I’m glad—” Steven started, but was cut off by Y/n.

“Shut up, Steven.”

He clamped his jaw shut as Kitty continued.

“Well, I am so glad that you’re here anyway,” she said. “It makes it better knowing that I’m guiding you to become better parents for my grandbabies!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Forman,” Steven said genuinely.

“You’re welcome, dear.” She turned to address the rest of the class. “Okay, everyone have a seat!” Kitty announced from the front. As everyone sat down, Kitty began. “Now, when your little bundle of joy is first born, they will spend almost 20 hours a day pooping and sleeping. Who else can tell me what else they’ll be doing?”

Y/n raised her hand eagerly. “Eating.”

“Great job, Y/n!” Kitty praised. “Now, what do babies eat?”

“Breast milk and formula!” a red-headed woman said eagerly.

“Yes, great job! Now, when your baby is born and it’s time to breastfeed, don’t be alarmed when the first couple of feedings may feel uncomfortable. Once the baby latches on properly to the nipple, it should feel less uncomfortable and more of a tugging on the breast.”

As Kitty continued her teaching, Steven leaned into Y/n’s ear and smirked. “So…nothing new for you then, right?”

“Shut up, Steven,” Y/n said, blushing.

He snickered and leaned away, eyes forward.

“And just so you know,” Y/n whispered, leaning into his side this time. “You just burned yourself.”

“What? How so?”

She chuckled breathlessly. “You basically said that all you do is tug…like a baby.”

 His smirk dropped immediately. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did,” she chuckled. “You just got burned, sucka!”

The room went dead silent as Kitty stared at them.

“Is there something you two would like to share?” she asked the couple who looked at like deer caught in the headlights.

“No,” Steven said.

“No, ma’am,” Y/n said in unison.

Kitty gave a curt nod before returning to the board.

                                                    ⧝⧝⧝

“Hey, this place is nice!” Kelso exclaimed as he and Fez walked through the empty apartment. “Big enough to bring the ladies over.” He smirked at his friend.

“And your daughter?” Fez reminded him.

“Oh, yeah, that too.”

The two young men walked around the two-bedroom apartment, admiring it. The living room was spacious with the bathroom and master bedroom immediately to the left of entering. Straight ahead was a decent sized kitchen with a half wall bar looking straight into it. There was a hall to the left of it that lead to the smaller bedroom and a sliding door.

“I think we should go fill out an application before someone else nabs it,” Fez said and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to go find the landlord before I—oof!” As he had turned around to leave, he had bumped straight into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry—oh, it’s you.”

The man stood there with a disgusted look on his face and folded arms across his chest. He was skinny with short thinning brown hair with a matching mustache. “Fez,” he said.

“Fenton,” Fez replied in the same tone and matched his stance.

“What are you doing in my apartment?”

Fez brought his eyebrows together. “What do you mean ‘your’ apartment?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Fenton smirked. “I’m the landlord of this joint. And before you fill out an application, the answer is no.”

“What? Why?” Fez asked, disappointed.

“You know why,” he responded and turned to Kelso. “But…I’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”

Kelso shifted uncomfortably in his place. “Uh…thanks man, but I don’t swing that way.”

“You don’t have to for me to give you this apartment. You’re way too pretty to pass that easily.”

A smug smile pressed into Kelso’s lips. “I know.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you this apartment right here, right now under one condition: You don’t make him your roommate.”

Kelso looked between the two men, stumbling for words. “I don’t—I can’t—”

“Are you serious? You can’t decide right now?” Fez asked, hurt.

“Well, I mean—I need a place, man. A place to raise my daughter.”

“But you can’t just leave me! You need a roommate to help pay the rent and I need a place a live!”

“I know, man, but I got to think of me and my daughter,” Kelso admitted sheepishly.

“I can’t believe this,” Fez said. “I thought you were my friend.”

“Fez, I am your friend!”

“No, you’re not, you son of a bitch!” He stomped out the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

“Fez!” Kelso called and started to run out the door, but Fenton caught him by the shoulder.

“Hey, the offer is still on the table, my friend.”

Kelso shook his head. “No. Not from you.” He walked out, to go find his friend.

                                                        ⧝⧝⧝

“Oh, that’s great Kyra,” Kitty said, watching the redhead wrap a cloth diaper around a baby doll. “Snug so that it fits well and comfortable, but not too snug to cause rash and discomfort. And certainly not too loose! You can imagine what happens when it is!” Kitty laughed and moved onto to the next couple—Y/n and Hyde.

Y/n was struggling to wrap the diaper correctly around the plastic baby. The diaper wouldn’t stay pinned, or it wouldn’t fit right. She was beginning to get flustered and frustrated.

“I don’t think that’s how you do it,” Steven muttered.

“I know how it’s done, Steven!” Y/n snapped.

“Really? ‘Cause it doesn’t look like it.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled and finally pinned the diaper. “There!” She held up the baby in the air, showcasing it to her husband.

Kitty stepped up to their side with a look of concern. “Well, that’s very good, Y/n, but the needle of the pin isn’t supposed to go into the baby’ stomach.”

Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. “Oh, forget it!” She threw the baby down onto the table. “I’m going to be a terrible mother!”

“No, no, you’re not,” Steven said gently and picked up the baby. “I’m probably going to be a worse father—” Y/n shot him a glare. “I mean…a bad father while you…my darling…are you going to be the best gosh darn mother out there.”

She made a face at him, not believing him.

“L-look, it’s not that hard, see?” he stammered and unpinned the needle from the baby. With gentle hands, he undid the diaper and folded the bottom up, then left, and then right. He carefully pinned the diaper down and brought the baby up.

“Wow, great job, Steven!” Kitty cheered. “This looks amazing!”

“Where did you learn to do this?” Y/n asked, confused and marveled at the diaper.

“Well, when my mom would bring home one of my ‘uncles’, he sometimes would bring a kid and my mom, being the terrible person that she is, would make me in charge of watching these kids. Sometimes they were still in diapers. And if I didn’t want my house smelling like crap, then I had to learn how to change a diaper. So…viola.” He held the baby in the palm of his hand.

Y/n stared at it for a second with watery eyes before turning around and stomped out the room.

Steven sighed and set down the baby. “I better go after her. I’ll see you at home, Mrs. Forman.”

Y/n was about to exit the building when Steven called after her.

“Y/n, wait!”

“Please, leave me alone,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to anybody right now.”

“Look, come on,” he said, now at her side and grabbed her elbow. “You know you’re going to be the best mom you can be.”

“How can you know that? If I can’t put on a simple diaper, what makes you think I can do anything else?”

Steven chuckled at her.

“This isn’t funny, Steven!”

“No, no, it��s just that I find humorous that it’s you instead of me.”

“What?” she spat.

“I mean I thought it’d me feeling this way instead of you. I always thought you’d be the one to know what to do before me.”

“Well, I’m glad I could to be of service,” she deadpanned.

“Look, Doll,” he said and grabbed her hands. “You’re going to be great, I promise.”

“I’m not so sure,” she said solemnly and withdrew her hands. “I need to go, I’ll see you at home.”

“Where you going?”

“There’s someone I need to go talk to.” She pushed open the door to walk out.

“You can’t go!”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because we drove here together!”

“Oh, right.”

                                                    ⧝⧝⧝

Y/n raised her fist and nervously knocked on the door in front of her. Padded footsteps could be heard from inside before the door swung open.

Brooke stood in front of her in a pink night gown, hair brushed and braided down her back. “Y/n…what are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you this late, but…I was wondering if I can talk to you?”

“Uh…sure,” Brooke replied, a little surprised to see someone she barley spoke to standing on her doorstep. She opened the door wider, gesturing for Y/n to come in. She made her way to the kitchen. “Have a seat and make yourself at home. Would you like some tea?”

“Um…no thank you,” she replied and closed the door behind her. “I won’t be here long.”

“Okay,” Brooke said, grabbing a mug of hot tea and sat down next to Y/n. She smiled at the visibly bothered girl who sat down beside her and crossed her legs. “What’s up?”

Y/n sighed, struggling to find the right words. “When—when you were pregnant with Betsy…were you nervous?”

Brooke tilted her head in thought, jutting her lower lip out. “Well…sure. I mean, who isn’t when it’s their first child?” She chuckled, remembering the thought. “Especially when the father of your child is…well…Michael.”

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I can imagine.” Her gaze dropped to her hands that laid in her lap. “Did you ever feel like you were going to be a bad mom? Because you had no idea what the hell you’d be doing?”

Brooke nodded. “Yeah…I did. Michael and I went to that baby class Mrs. Forman teaches and I could barley put the diaper on that stupid plastic baby.”

Y/n perked up. “Me too! How did you learn to do it?”

Brooke smiled gently at her. “It became second nature once I held Betsy in my arms.”

Y/n was silent for a minute. “But what if it doesn’t? What if—what if I do everything wrong and fail my babies?”

“You’re not going to,” Brooke soothed and tapped Y/n’s knee. “Once they are born, your motherly instincts will kick in. It’s expected.”

“Wasn’t for Steven’s mom.”

“Steven’s mom is a special case,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “You’re not going to be like her.”

“Well, I know that!” Y/n exclaimed, making Brooke laugh. “I just don’t want to be dunce that can’t figure out how to keep a baby happy.”

“You want to know the secret to a happy baby?” Brooke asked, leaning in.

Y/n perked up. “Yes!”

“There isn’t,” she deadpanned. “You’re never going to have a happy baby 100 percent of the time. They’re going to cry when they’re hungry, tired, have a full diaper, or just want to be held. Sometimes, they’re gonna cry just to cry.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. At some point they’re going to get old enough to throw a fit. Betsy is old enough now to scream when she gets mad.”

“Really?” Y/n asked, most surprised than the last time she asked.

“Yeah,” Brooke sighed and rubbed her temples. “I love that little girl with all my heart, but sometimes I just want to give her a small taste of my mother’s bourbon in her milk so she can go to sleep.”

“Wait…do you?” she asked, taken aback and if she were being honest…a little amused.

“No,” Brooke chuckled and took a sip of her tea. “It’s tempting though when it’s three a.m. and she still isn’t asleep.”

Y/n chuckled. “I can imagine.” She looked down into her lap as a sudden pressure formed on her chest. “You know what? I think I’ll take that tea now.”

Brooke noticed her sudden change in demeanor, nodded quickly and rushed to the kitchen to grab her a cup of tea. When she rushed back in with a hot cup, she saw Y/n taking slow, steady breaths. Y/n accepted the cup graciously.

“I’m don’t think I’m ready to have kids,” she quivered, taking a sip from her tea.

Brooke looked at her awkwardly. “Erm…wouldn’t you rather be talking about this with your friends—"

Y/n didn’t even bother to hear what she was saying. “I’m going to make a terrible mother. I mean—I don’t know anything about babies! I read in the book Eric got me for Christmas that babies have six different cries. SIX! How am I supposed to know which ones which?”

“Okay, I guess we’re talking about it.”

“And then top of that, if I somehow manage to keep them alive, I have no idea what kind of parent I’m going to be.”

“Y/n, it’s going to be okay,” Brooke said nervously, trying to soothe her.

“No, it’s not,” Y/n practically sobbed. “I have no idea what I’m going to do!”

“I felt the same way,” she responded calmly.

“You did?”

“Oh, yeah. I had no idea what I was doing when Betsy was born. But eventually, it got easier.”

Y/n let out a small breath of relief. “Maybe I have a chance.”

“Of course you do. Every mom that is worried about being a good mom is a good mom.”

She moved the corner of her mouth upwards. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Brooke scooted a little closer to her. “Listen, becoming a new parent is stressful enough as it is. It doesn’t help when you’re eighteen and just starting your career at the library and you get knocked up at a Molly Hatchet concert.” She clicked her tongue, staring off angrily in the distance and shook her head. “Stupid Michael.”

Y/n’s gaze flicked to her and then anywhere else in the room, confused. “I assume we’re no longer talking about me.”

Brooke shook her head. “Sorry. Look, my point is, you’re going to make an amazing mom. I was scared too, but now I can’t imagine my life without my daughter. Regardless of how you feel, you’re going to make mistakes, but that’s not going to make your children love you any less.”

She smiled at Brooke. “Thanks, Brooke. That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” she hummed and leaned back. “So…what’s it like being married to one of the stooges?”

Y/n chuckled. “You got some time?”

                                                          ⧝⧝⧝

“Push, Y/n, push!” Steven encouraged as he held his wife’s hand.

Y/n sat there with her legs hiked up on a table, a female nurse sitting between her legs.

“Steven, before we continue, I just wanted to say that you’re the best sex I’ve ever had,” Y/n said with a certain twinkle in her eyes.

Steven smirked. “I know. Now, come on just a couple more pushes!”

She hunched forward and barley pushed before a squealing baby could be heard.

“Congratulations it’s a boy!” the nurse exclaimed.

“Oh, my God,” the couple breathed together as they watched another nurse take the baby away.

“Okay, one more time,” the nurse said and had Y/n push once again. As easily as the first, another baby popped out, it’s cries echoing the room. “Congrats, it’s another boy!”

As the Hyde’s sat back to relax, satisfied smile on their faces, the doctor perked up.

“What?” Y/n asked. “What is it?”

The nurse’s eyes lifted to meet Steven’s and Y/n’s. “Another baby is coming out…”

“WHAT?!” the couple yelled in unison.

“That’s impossible,” Y/n panicked.

“No one told you were having triplets?” the nurse asked.

“NO!” the couple once again said in unison.

“Okay, this is almost unheard of!” she exclaimed almost excitedly. “Okay, Y/n I’m going to need you to push one more time.”

“N-no! I’m not ready to have another baby!” she cried out.

“It’s a little late for that now!” Kitty said from the corner of the room. “You should’ve used a condom!”

“Mom?” Y/n asked through her quickened breaths. “When did you get here?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been here the whole time!” she said. “Now, saddle up and push!”

All Y/n had to do was barley push for the baby to come out.

“It’s another boy!” The nurse held the baby in her hands before her eyes grew wide. “Another one is coming!”

“NO!” the couple screamed together.

“It’s a girl! Oh…another one!”

The couple screamed as the baby came out without Y/n needing to push.

As the baby girl came out, another one came out, and then another, and another…and another. They kept on coming until there was a total of 100 babies—crying, screaming, pooping, and drooling.

“Look, Steven,” Y/n gushed. “Look at our beautiful family.” As she spoke, her voice grew deeper and distorted.

Steven stared at her in disbelief at her sudden attitude change when not even a minute ago she was panicking.

“Wait—what?” he asked through bated breaths. “This isn’t—this isn’t real. This isn’t happening.”

“Oh, but it is,” she replied, her smile growing in a distorted and an unnatural way. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was possessed—or the joker. “Steven, there’s no way out of this. You did this to me and now you must face before your consequences.”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere. I—you’re not Y/n. My Y/n knows that.”

“You’re right,” she replied, now standing up. Her body seemed lankier, her limbs longer now. Her eyes grew dark as her skin paled. “Y/n is not here anymore.”

“Steven…” a weak, fragile voice came from behind him. He spun around to see a mirror facing him. Instead of seeing his own reflection, he saw his wife standing there. She looked small and frail, but it was her. Her hair once beautiful hair was dull and lacked life. Her face looked gaunt and her eyes were sunken—exhausted. What once was life and happiness and love in her eyes now only showed sadness.  “Steven, I want out.”

He ambled over to the mirror, scared and confused in what appeared in front of him. “What the hell is happening?”

“I need help,” she cried. “Please, I need help!”

“With what?! Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it!”

“You should know! You caused this!” Y/n screamed at him, tears rolling down her face.

“Caused what?!”

“This,” the other Y/n croaked in a deep voice and pointed a long finger at the mountain of screaming babies. “You failed your family.”

“No! I—I swear I didn’t—I don’t want to!”

“But you did!” The real Y/n screamed. “You left me! I was drowning and you did nothing but watch me! Now, I’m nothing but an empty shell of what I once was! How could you do this to me?! You promised me!”

“But I’m still here!”

“For now,” the ugly, creepy Y/n said. “You’re going to leave just like the man who raised you did.”

“This is all your fault!” his real wife screamed, eyes now wide and erratic. She pointed her finger at him, tears still streaming down her face. “Your fault! Look what you made of me! This is your fault!”

“No!” Steven cried out. He screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “This isn’t real! This can’t be.”

“But it is,” a familiar voice came from the mirror. Steven opened his eyes to not see his wife anymore, but to see the one person he thought he’d never see.

“Dad?” He asked, shakily.

“Hey, Steven,” Bud said, shoving his hands in his pockets casually. His shaggy brown hair still hung passed his ears and he wore a flannel shirt and jeans—the last outfit he saw him in before he left him.

Steven couldn’t respond. He ran his hands through his hair, but when he did he saw Bud mimic his movements. As he brought his hands back down to his side, Bud did the same. He waved at the mirror only to his horror to see his supposed father wave his hand. When Steven inched closer to it, Bud followed suit.

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Bud continued, a smirk painting his face. “Get a grip on reality, Steven. This is your future!”

“No, I am nothing like you!”

Bud clicked his tongue. “Then why did you do what you did?”

Steven shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, you keep thinking that. But you’ll eventually end up just like your dad.”

“No, I won’t!” Steven seethed. “You don’t know me.”

“But I do. You’re just like everybody else in this family—a lowlife. You’ve got nothing to bring to the table.”

Steven’s chest was heaving from anger. “Go to hell, Bud.”

“I’ll see you there.”

“What—?”

Before Steven could finish his sentence, the ground beneath him disappeared and swallowed him whole. He screamed as he fell through the never-ending darkness.

“No!” Steven screamed as he jerked awake. It took him a minute to take in his surroundings, gathering his bearings. When he realized it was just a dream, he was heaving and his heart was racing. He glanced over at the bedside clock and it read 4:40am. He looked to his left to see his wife sleeping peacefully beside him. Seeing her there and looking healthy and not possessed brought him a wave of peace and relief. His sudden jerking movements must have wakened her because she stirred awake.

“Babe?” she asked groggy. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his racing heart calming down. “Just a bad dream.”

She hummed, her eyes fluttering shut. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He stared down at her, taking her in, trying to forget the image of her from his dream. "No, I'm okay."

"Come here.” She opened her arms and he graciously fell into them. She rubbed his back and caressed his hair, making him feel safe. “It was just a nightmare. It’s over now. You’re safe.”

His grip around her tightened and her belly pressed into his stomach. “I know.”

“Good.”

As they began to fall back into their slumber, Steven felt something move across his stomach. At first, he thought Y/n had shifted her position. But it wasn’t until he felt a little poke to his stomach.

“What the—” Steven said, scrambling away from his wife. “Did you feel that?!”

The feeling jolted her awake as well. “Yeah, I did.” She felt more movement and another poke to her stomach. “Oh, my God…I think the babies are kicking!”

“Seriously?!” he asked, surprised. He pressed his hands to her stomach, waiting for another kick. When it came, his heart skipped a beat. “Oh, my God. There’s actually something in there.”

“Yeah,” she replied, holding her stomach in awe. “There is.”

Steven looked up to meet her loving gaze. She cupped his face before he kissed her belly. “Does it feel weird?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “But a good weird.”

Another kick to her stomach. “Man, these kids are kicking like crazy!”

“I know! This is incredible.”

“It really is,” he whispered.

Y/n tilted her head. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah…just. Makes it real, you know?”

She placed her hands over his. “I do.”

He huffed through his nose and pressed his lips to her belly once more. “I promise to be the best dad I can be.”

Y/n’s heart and stomach filled with butterflies. “And I promise to be the best mom I can be.”

He looked at her once more before reaching up and placing a sweet kiss to her lips.

                                            ∞∞∞ 

“So, he’s not talking to you now?” Donna asked Kelso as he, Jackie, Eric, Y/n, Steven and Kitty sat in the kitchen waiting for brunch to finish cooking.

  “No,” Kelso responded. “He packed up his stuff and left. I called his host parents and they haven’t heard anything from him. He hasn’t called me to make sure he’s okay. I don’t know, I’m worried about him guys.”

“Hey, Kelso, if things don’t work out with Angie, you and Fez should get together,” Y/n joked.

 “Wait, why Angie?” Steven asked, glaring at his friend. “Kelso, what does she mean by that?”

  “Nothing. It was a joke,” Kelso chuckled nervously and shot a glare to Y/n.

“Was it?” Steven pushed and turned to his wife. “Now, darling, were you joking? You wouldn’t lie to your husband, would you?”

Y/n gulped nervously. “N-no, of course not.”

“Then what did you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” she stuttered. “I was just…making a poor joke.”

Hyde squinted at her behind his glasses. “I don’t believe you.”

“Wow! Look at the time I really should be going!” She tried to get up quickly, but the new weight of her stomach slowed her down. She achingly stood and tried to stand, but Steven grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

  “Y/n,” he said sternly. “Tell me the truth. Or I’m going to stop doing the thing that you like.”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” Kitty said, stirring the pan of the food.

Y/n stared into her husband’s eyes before cracking. “Kelso has been secretly dating your sister!”

“Y/n!” Kelso shouted. “What the hell?!”

“I’m sorry!” she cried out. “I can’t lie to him! He’s my husband. Besides, when he threatens to take certain things away, he means it.”

Steven smiled proudly. “Damn straight.”

“Look, man, I—” Kelso began, but was cut off by Hyde.

“Nah, you listen to me. I told you to stay away from Angie and you went behind my back and did it anyway. Now, you’re going to pay.”

“Wow, this sounds familiar,” Eric piped up, pretending to think. He looked at Hyde, smirking. “Oh, yeah.”

“Shut up, Forman!” Steven snapped and turned his attention back to Kelso. “Look, I’m not going to tell you again. You’re going to end it, and you’re going to end it now.”

“What? C’mon, man it’s not like we did it or anything!” Kelso defended. “Yet at least.” He stuck his tongue out and nudged Y/n.

“Yeah…I’m not going to do that,” she responded, resting her hand on her stomach.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you knocking her up too,” Hyde said. “And if you do, I will put you six feet under.”

“Yeah, how terrible would that be?” Eric mocked, still smirking.

Hyde glared at his brother-in-law. “I said shut up.” He turned back to Kelso. “I mean it. You and her? Are done.”

“Alright, man, jeez,” Kelso said and leaned back in his chair.

“Alright,” Steven said, satisfied with the answer. “Now, Y/n…”

“Yes, dear?” she asked nervously.

“I’d like to know why you tried to cover Kelso’s ass.”

“I didn’t,” she said, her voice getting higher.

“Yes, you did.” He leaned back in his chair, slinging his arm down the back, and cocked his head to the side. “You want to tell me why?”

“Uh…” she stuttered, her mouth going dry. “Guys, the babies kicked last night!”

“What?!” Everyone shouted, her diversion successful.

Kitty ran over to her and placed her hand on her daughter’s belly. “Oh, my God! My grandbabies kicked!” After a few seconds of no movement, her eyebrows furrowed. “C’mon, babies. Kick for Grandma. Kick!”

“Mom, I don’t think that’s how th—” Eric began, but Kitty cut him off with her joyous screeching.

  “One of them kicked!” she cried out. “I can’t believe it! One of them kicked! Red! Red, honey, get in here!”

“What?” he asked calmly, entering the kitchen.

“The babies kicked!” she replied excitedly.

“Oh, that’s great,” he said with a grin.

 “Come feel it!”

Red cleared his throat and stayed near the door. “No, it’s okay. I believe you.”

 “Red, come feel your grandchildren,” Kitty scolded.

   “No, I really don’t want to.”

   “Red Forman, come feel the life your daughter is bringing into this world right now!”

“But…it’s so awkward,” he whined and cautiously stepped over to Y/n. His hand hovered over her bulging belly.

“It’s okay, Dad, it’s not going to bite,” Y/n chuckled.

Red sighed grumpily before barley placing his fingertips on her stomach. He stood there for a few seconds before he felt movement. His eyes widened slightly before pressing more of his hand onto her belly. Another kick to his hand caused him to withdraw.

He cleared his throat. “Well, uh, there’s that.”

“Red, those are your grandchildren and that’s all you got to say?” Kitty asked.

“Well…there really are babies in there.”

“Yeah, and in three months they’ll be here,” Kitty mentioned, but when she did Hyde’s and Y/n’s faces dropped.

“Th-three months?” Hyde stuttered; his previous frustration complete dissipated.

“Well, yeah!” Kitty answered. She gave them an astonished look as they stared back in panic. “Did you guys think that they weren’t just going to come?”

“No, I-I just thought that w-we had more time,” Y/n said and looked to her husband in a panic.

“What do you mean by that?” Kitty asked, straightening up.

“We, uh, we don’t exactly—” Hyde started.

 “Oh, my God!” Kitty yelled. “You guys don’t have anything for the babies?”

“Not exactly…” Y/n answered, looking down.

“Okay, then what do you have?” Kitty asked, standing straight and put her hands on her hips.

“We…have the onesies…that Eric gave us,Y/n said hesitantly.

 “That’s all you have?!” Kitty screeched, causing Eric, Y/n, and Steven to cover their ears closest to her.

 “Mom, please…dogs can hear you,” Eric said, walking away.

  “Steven, what are we going to do?” Y/n asked, worryingly looking to her husband.

He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I don’t know. I can ask WB if he can give me an advance on my paycheck. I can’t imagine how much this stuff is going to cost.”

“No need,” Kitty said, excited. “This gives us a perfect opportunity to have a baby shower!”

“No!” Red shouted. “No. More. Parties!”

“Red, it won’t be for us,” Kitty argued. “It’ll be for them.” She placed both hands on her daughter’s belly.

 “Don’t do this,” Red said. “Don’t use our unborn grandchildren as a way to get your way.”

“I’m not!” she responded and stood straight. “We can have this baby shower and get everything that we need! We won’t have to spend a dime!”

“We still have to spend money on the party!”

“Actually, we can cover that. Right, Steven?” Y/n asked.

“Uh…do I have to be there?” he asked.

“No,” Y/n answered, knowing the answer will satisfy her husband.

“Then yes we can!” he said, more upbeat.

“There you go!” Kitty said, facing her husband. “And I think this calls for the godmother to get everything ready.” She eyed Donna who was chewing on a piece of bacon.

“By myself?” she responded with wide eyes.

“Wait, what?!” Jackie screeched. “You made her godmother?!”

“Well, yeah,” Y/n answered honestly. “She’s my brother’s girlfriend and my best friend.”

 “I’m your best friend!”

“I told you not to tell her,” Y/n said to Kitty who looked away awkwardly and busied herself with preparing more food. “Jackie, you are my best friend. But I can’t make you my maid of honor and the godmother of my children.”

“Well, why not?”

Y/n made a face at her. “Because I have other friends.”

“Yeah, but I’m the best one!”

"Y/n, let me handle this one,” Eric said and turned to the petite brunette. “Nobody cares. Alright, moving on.”

Jackie clicked her tongue and huffed, sitting down at the counter.

“Okay, back to the topic at hand,” Kitty said. “We need to decide when we can have the party.”

“Hey, are we just going to forget about my problem?” Kelso piped up.

“Oh, yeah,” Steven said. “Kelso, the best thing you can do is…to stop talking about it.” He grinned at his friend when he shot him a glare.

 “Steven,” Y/n said firmly and turned back to Kelso. “Just give him a couple days. He’ll come back around.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled.

A beat passed when the sliding door opened and Fez walked in.

 “Hello beautiful people,” he greeted cheerfully before his eyes landed on Kelso. “Oh, hello.”

“Hey, buddy. We need to figure this out,” Kelso said.

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Fez said bitterly. “You picked an apartment over me! From my arch nemesis out of all people!”

“Fez, he’s not your arch nemesis,” Eric pointed out. “He just gets on your nerves.”

“It doesn’t matter; he still chose the apartment over me!”

“So I can have a place to raise my daughter!” Kelso defended. “Fez, man, you’re my best friend, but I got to think about my kid.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Red said. “I’m going down to the apartment with you and talking to that damn landlord.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Red. That means a lot,” Fez said sweetly.

“Don’t think I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” Red replied. “I don’t want you moving back into my house!”

“Also, a fair point,” Steven said in a taunting way and got up to put his plate in the sink.

“Be ready in five minutes,” Red said, grabbing his keys. “I don’t want to deal with this crap any longer.”

“Can we please get back to the topic at hand?” Kitty asked. “When should we have the shower?”

“How ‘bout next Saturday?” Donna suggested. “Gives us enough time to plan and not scatter like we did for the wedding.”

“We’re having a party?” Fez asked. “I want to go to a party.”

“Well, I think that’s a wonderful idea!” Kitty cheered, ignoring Fez. “Oh, I am so excited! I’ll start the guest list!”

“And I’ll start the food and decorations!” Donna said.

  “Make sure you put cake on that list,” Y/n said. “I’m on a chocolate kick.”

 “Oh, and finger sandwiches!” Kitty exclaimed. She gasped. “And tea!”

“Are we having a baby shower or a tea party?” Fez asked.

“Are you coming?” Y/n asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he responded. “I love planning parties!”

“Fez, it’s a baby shower,” Jackie said. “It’s not going to be a party.”

“Awe, party poopers,” he responded disappointed.

“Well, we could use you,” Donna said. “We could use your theme expertise.”

“What about me?!” Jackie said. “I have a good taste!”

 “Fine, Jackie and Fez can work together,” Y/n said, exhausted already.

   “Yay!” Jackie cheered, clapping her hands. “Oh, Fez we have so much to go over!”

“While this is going on, me and the boys will be at the bar,” Steven smirked and continued eating his food.

“Can you guys take Markus with you?” Jackie asked. “I’m trying to get him ‘in’ with the group.”

“Doesn’t he have any of his own friends?” Steven asked, annoyed.

  “Duh, but I’d like him to get closer to you guys because I don’t like his friends,” she said candidly.

“Why not?” Y/n asked, grabbing for a strawberry.

 “They’re just…eck,” she responded.

“What do you mean ‘eck’?” Eric asked.

“I mean…they’re weird!”

“Weirder than us?” Donna asked.

“Yeah, believe it or not!”

“Jackie, I don’t want to take my ex’s new boyfriend out on guy’s night,” Steven said. “It’s almost like returning to the scene of the crime.”

“No, it’s not!” she protested.

“I second what Hyde said,” Eric said, “It’s weird.”

“Ah, c’mon guys, please!” she begged. “I’d like for him to be here more often.”

“Then, he can just be here more often,” Donna said, pointing out the obvious.

“Alright, let’s go,” Red called out. “I want to get back to catch the Packer’s game.”

“But I want to talk about the party!” Fez whined.

 “You want join in on some tooty frooty baby shower or do you want to get a house that has a roof and running water unlike the hut you came from?” Red threatened.

Fez’s eyes widened. “See ya.” He ran out the door to meet Red at the car.

                                                  --Time Skip—

“Are you Fenton?” Red asked as he walked into the empty apartment. In the middle of the room stood the familiar bald man with a mousy moustache. “I’m here to talk about the apartment.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Fenton responded, flamboyantly and smiled. “It’s still available. And F.Y.I so am I.”

Red scrunched his face at him. “Look, I have a wife.”

“And I have a football, but I never use it.”

“Red!” Kelso called out, storming into the room. “I know you told us to wait in the car, but Fez keep playing his bongo music!”

“It’s called jazz, you philistine!” Fez yelled, trailing behind him.

“Oh, you’re with him,” Fenton responded, unpleased. “Deals off. I gotta get to yoga.”

“Hey, can’t we talk about this?” Red asked.

“No,” he said shortly.

“See, I told you he was going to be—” Fez started, but was cut off by Red.

“Just shut it, or I’ll shut it for you!”

Fenton looked at Red, impressed and if he was being honest, maybe a little turned on. “Well, you just don't take crap from anyone, do you, Mr. Man?”

Kelso sighed. “I knew this was gonna be a waste of time. Come on, Fez. We'll go figure out some other place to live with the baby.” He and Fez walked out in a huff leaving Red and Fenton.

“Baby? No one mentioned they had a baby. That... that's so progressive,” Fenton said.

Red cocked an eyebrow at him. “Progressive?”

“Well, how can I not give the apartment to two men raising a child together?”

Red smiled, understanding what Fenton was implying. “Oh. Yeah, progressive. Yeah, that's what they are. They're as progressive as hell. Why, they're likenewlyweds."

“Mhm,” Fenton hummed. “I wish I knew what that was like. Always a bridesmaid, but never a bride.”

Red nodded. “Right. So, we got a deal?”

“Alright, fine, but they mess up once and they’re out of here.”

Red wanted to open his mouth, but chose to keep it shut. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

                                     --Later in the basement—

“Guys, I can’t believe I graduate in a few months,” Jackie mentioned while the gang hung out. “I’ll finally become a woman!”

“Jackie, you became a woman the night you lost it to Kelso,” Y/n responded, leaning back against the couch. Her big belly now starting to cause her back pain and ankle pain.

“Man, I can’t believe I graduated a year ago,” Eric said. “Man, time really flies when you take two naps a day. I didn’t really do anything.”

“I don’t really think you…I mean you did do…man, you really sat on your ass,” Donna said, giving on trying to comfort her boyfriend.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Eric said glumly. “I mean, I got a letter from the contest and they think I have no artistic talent. You know, I’m starting to think that the cartoon academy of Fort Lauderdale isn’t legitimate.”

“Yeah? What gave it away?” Y/n deadpanned.

“Yep, Forman, we’ve all passed you by,” Hyde said smugly. “I’m running a record store. All the while banging your sister—”

“‘Banging?’” Y/n glared at her husband. “Don’t you mean ‘married?’ I mean, I’m even carrying your kids for God’s sake!”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said calmly and turned back to Eric. “I’m also hitched and about to have kids, Donna’s a deejay, Kelso’s a cop…even Fez has a job now. What’s it again, man? Shower girl? Makeup lady?”

“Shampoo boy!” Fez said loudly and shortly.

“Eh, I was close.”

“What did you being married to Y/n and her carrying your kids have anything to do with the conversation?” Eric asked.

Hyde shrugged. “Just another thing to rub in your face that I’m much further along than you.”

“Wait, so I’m the loser of the group now?” Eric asked, pointing to himself.

“I mean, you’re the one still living with your mommy,” Kelso said.

“Hey, I still live with my mommy,” Y/n said.

“Yeah, but you’re still married to someone who is successful,” Jackie said, leaning against the washing machine. Y/n furrowed her brows, not feeling any better. “Eric just stays home who’s mommy still cuts the crust off his sandwiches.”

Eric ignored Jackie and turned to Kelso. “Man, you’re still living with your mommy.”

“Not for long. Me and Fez are looking for an apartment and the only thing I’ll need my mom for is to do my cooking, laundry, and taking me to the dentist.”

“Well, Eric I feel kinda bad,” Jackie said. “You wouldn’t even be thinking of this kind of stuff if you hadn’t been caught in the brightness of my future.”

“You know what else is scary? If this year went by really fast, imagine where Eric will be in ten years,” Fez said.

                          Eric’s crappy future, ten years later…

The Vista Cruiser rolled into the Forman driveway in the late afternoon. Eric and Donna exited the car, dressed in Star Trek outfits, coming home from a convention. Eric wore the traditional fleet command uniform while Donna sported a black wig and red general commander dress.

“Thank you for coming to the Star Trek convention with me…Uhura.”

“You can call me Donna now,” she said displeased and walked into the house.

“That’s good, Fez,” Kelso said,  coming back to present time. “But I think it’s going to be more like this…”

                          Eric’s crappy future, ten years from now…

The Vista Cruiser rolled into the Forman driveway in the late afternoon. Eric and Donna exited the car, dressed in Star Wars outfits, coming home from a convention. Eric dressed as Luke Skywalker and Donna dressed in the familiar gown and rolled side buns.

“Thank you for coming to the Star Wars convention…Leia,” Eric said proudly.

“You can call me Donna now,” she said and shuffled back into the house.

“No, you’re both wrong,” Hyde said, smirking. “It’ll be more like this…”

The Vista Cruiser once again rolled into the Forman driveway. The doors to the car opened, Eric jumping out and rounding the car.

“Thanks for coming to the convention with me…Leia,” he said.

Kitty got out of the car and walked over to Eric wearing Leia’s gown and her hair in the same style. She stared at him displeased. “You can call me Mom now.” She hurried inside, eager to get out of the itchy costume.

The gang laughed at Hyde’s theory, upsetting Eric.

“Whoa!” Eric screeched, jumping off the couch.

“They’re just joking around, Eric,” Donna said calmly. “It’s funny.”

“No, it’s not!” he defended, inching towards the stairs. “In fact,…it’s completely possible!” He bounded up the stairs, freaking out.

Y/n laughed and high-fived her husband. “Nice.”

                              A few moments later…

“All of my friends are on career paths. Even Kelso. Kelso! The kid who thinks N.A.T.O is Japanese for neato,” Eric ranted to his parents who sat in the kitchen. Red was reading the newspaper and Kitty was reading a magazine.

“You know it’s just not fair,” Red said, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “You sleep late, you watch TV all day…the job offers should be pouring in.”

“Why don’t you look into that chiropractic school I suggested?” Kitty asked. “They’re having an enrollment seminar. You know, being a chiropractor is a very prestigious job. Even if you move somewhere where there’s no real doctors.”

“Well, I guess chiropractor is as good as anything I've come up with. I have wasted an entire year doing absolutely nothing.”

“Hey, how bout a job stating the obvious?” Red asked, giving Eric a fake smile. “Because you’re really good at that!”

                                             Later…

“So, you’re going to the school, huh?” Y/n asked as they once again gathered in the basement. This time, Markus had joined them who was sitting next to Jackie and Y/n on the couch, with his arm around her. “When do you start?”

“Well, they start Monday, so…probably then,” Eric responded sarcastically.

“Want me to come with you?” Donna asked.

“Wait, really?” Eric asked and turned to his girlfriend.

“Yeah. I think it’d be fun.”

“Awe, you’re such a good girlfriend,” Fez cooed before pretending to gag.

“What was that about?” Hyde asked, leaning back in his usual chair.

“All of you are in loving relationships and I’m over here more single than a freakin’ pringle,” he responded bitterly.

“Hey, I’m single too,” Kelso piped up from the lawn chair.

“Yeah, but knowing you, you’ll have a new girlfriend in, like, five minutes,” Fez replied and slumped on the couch. "I'm going to die alone."

"No, you're not,” Y/n comforted, rubbing his shoulder. “You’ll find someone.”

“Why are you lying?” Eric asked.

“Eric!”

“Yeah,” Jackie agreed with Eric. “He is one freaky, horny little dude.”

“Just ask the couch,” Hyde added in.

“I’m right here!” Fez whined. “Can’t even have the decency to wait until I walk out the room!”

“Jackie, what did we talk about comforting friends?” Markus asked, like he was talking to a toddler.

Jackie looked at the ground. “Don’t be mean.”

“And?”

Jackie rolled her eyes and sighed. “And if I can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

Markus nodded and looked up to everyone. “We’re working on talking nicely to others.”

“Wow,” Eric said amazed. “I like him. Can he stay?”

“Don’t listen to them, Fez,” Donna said. “They’re just being jerks.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Y/n said. “Why don’t one of us set you up?”

“How?” Fez asked. “Do you know anybody?”

“Wait, wait…you’re not going to set up a party with all women are you?” Hyde said. “Because that was annoying.”

“No, no. Something better than that,” Y/n said. “Donna, are there any single ladies at the radio station?”

“The only lady we have there is the receptionist and she’s eighty-eight years old,” she responded.

“Is she single?” Fez asked seriously.

“She’s a widow…does that count?”

“Hm, no,” he shook his head and sat back. “I don’t want to be second choice.”

“That’s what’s stopping you?” Eric asked. “Not the fact that she’s seventy years older than you?”

“Yeah, and you won’t be able to have sex without thinking she’s going to break a hip,” Kelso said. “Or a heart attack.”

“Okay, gross,” Y/n said. “Anyone else that knows a single girl?”

“Well, I mean there’s Simpson from the police academy,” Kelso said.

“No, we all know how that turned out,” Y/n said and turned to her husband. “Do you know anyone at the store?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Eric asked.

“Do you know anyone from staying at home all day?” his twin sassed. “Oh, yeah, you must’ve met someone at the Bum Factory.”

“Damn, did you have bitch flakes this morning?”

“Yeah, along with your sitting-on-your-ass-all-day scrambled eggs,” she snipped.

“Is this about what happened earlier?” Eric asked. “I already said I was sorry!”

“What else would it be?!”

“What happened earlier?” Hyde asked, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“Your idiot brother-in-law happened!”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Eric argued.

“If it wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be pissed!”

“You’re so dramatic!”

“Will you two shut up and just tell us what happened?” Hyde snapped. “I need to know if it’s funny so I can make fun of you or kick your ass. It depends.”

“It was just a slice of cake!” Eric said, turning his attention back to Y/n.

“The last slice!” she cried out.

“Just go buy a cake,” Jackie said calmly. “What’s so special about this one?”

“My mom made it! And no one else can make it as good as she can!” Y/n said.

“She probably puts kalua in it,” Jackie said. “She taught me how to make fudge once, and she said kalua was the secret recipe. That’s when I learned that she may have a bit of a drinking problem.”

“Shut up, Jackie. You’re not making it any better,” Y/n said angrily.

“Well, damn. Pregnancy has made you bitchier than before,” Jackie said and got up from the couch to grab a popsicle.

“I’m sure she’ll make it again,” Donna said. “If you ask her nicely, I bet she will.”

“No,” Y/n whined and leaned her head against the headrest of the couch. “I want it now.”

“God, you’re needy,” Eric said. “When are you going to stop?”

“When I get some damn chocolate!” she replied.

“Okay, would it be better if I ran to the store and got you something similar?” Hyde offered. “Anything to make you happy so you can stop whining?”

“I second that,” Eric said.

“No, Eric should go buy it for me,” she pouted. “He’s the one that ate my cake. And he should buy me Fatso Burger because I’m hungry. I’ll call it square then.”

“But I don’t have any money!” he whined.

“That sounds like a you problem,” Y/n said. “Want me to quit being needy? Get me food.”

“Well, why don’t you borrow money from Hyde?” Kelso asked, ignoring the fact that Hyde was moving his hand sharply against his throat, saying to stop. Talking. “Hyde has a lot of it!”

“What?” Y/n asked, looking at Kelso. “Steven and I don’t have a lot of money.”

“Of course, he does!” he continued, still ignoring Hyde as he was now waving his hands.

Y/n looked behind her and Steven stopped quickly, pretending he was just as confused.

“Steven, what’s he talking about?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” he replied. He glared at Kelso through his aviators and when his wife turned back around, he mouthed: Shut. Up.

“Yes, you do!” Kelso said. At this point he was amused and continued. “You’ve been telling me that you’ve been stashing money in your secret savings.”

“In your what?!” Y/n screeched.

“No, no, Kelso doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Hyde defended. “He’s talking nonsense from his concussion.”

Kelso scrunched his eyebrows together. “I don’t have a concu—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Hyde threw a soda can at his head. It flew across the room at an impressive speed and smacked Kelso right in the face. No one moved as it was a day-to-day occurrence. At this point, even Markus was desensitized.

“Ow, my eye!” Kelso yelled, dropping to the floor.

“Wow, that was incredibly fast,” Donna said.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Jackie commented, covering her mouth with her fist.

“Hyde, you jerk!” Kelso yelled, stumbling back up to his feet. “I’m going to have a black eye and picture day at the academy is tomorrow!”

“First off: Kelso, here,” Y/n said and grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and tossed it across the room. It thumped against his chest before he caught it and pressed it against his face. “And now you,” she growled at her husband. “A secret savings?! Are you kidding me?!”

“It’s not so much of a secret savings as—” he started, now standing from his seat but was interrupted.

“How much is in it?” she asked, her eyes burning a hole in his head.

“Not much,” he replied. “And it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter?!” she yelled, angrier than before. “You’re hiding money from me!”

“Actually, you said you have about two grand—” Kelso began but was cut off by Hyde.

“Do you want me to blacken the other eye?!” he barked at him.

“Two thousand dollars?!” Y/n screamed. “I can’t believe this! Do you have any idea what we can do with that money?”

“Yes, that’s why it’s in there!” Hyde yelled back.

“Now, does this happen every day?” Markus whispered to Jackie.

“No…no this is not,” she whispered back.

“What do you mean that’s why it’s in there?!” Y/n asked, bringing everyone’s attention back on them. “Why are you hiding it from me?!”

“Because of…reasons,” Hyde said.

“Reasons like what?! You don’t trust me?”

“No, I don’t!” he yelled back.

 "The air in the room dropped. It was like it was sucked out, leaving everyone completely breathless. Y/n felt like she had been punched in the gut.

She was so hurt and angry that she couldn’t speak. She stared at him as the silence grew louder. He refused to break eye contact with her, but his body language—turned halfway away from her and his hands on his hips—said he regretted what he told her.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/n finally broke eye contact and stomped her way upstairs without saying another word. After a minute of still silence, Markus decided to speak up.

“So…what else do you guys do for fun?”

“And this is where we’ve talked about speaking in awkward moments,” Jackie said from the corner of her mouth.

Fez sat there, frowning. "Are we supposed to just forget about my problem?!”

Taglist: @not-shy-nanya @taysirene @maddieschampagneproblems @mdittyz123 @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-004 @lieswithoutfairytales @chloem4a1 @srhxpc @zhonglibxitch

[stonebutchery]

Lakey's Smash or Pass: Leigh Whannell Edition

Axel from The Matrix Reloaded (2003) dir. Lily and Lana Wachowski

Being a Matrix franchise character, I've loved Axel long before I ever started giving a shit about Leigh Whannell as an actor/screenwriter. I love Axel so much, I would do everything and anything to save him. If I were a character in this universe and a resident of Zion, I would try to get him to stay home and never embark on the Vigilant. Do not doubt my commitment. I need him alive, I need to be his lover. I care about him.

Verdict: SMASH

David from Saw (2003) dir. James Wan

There is absolutely nothing and no one that could keep me from pouring all of my energy and time and love and care into helping David defend himself legally after the events of the Saw proof-of-concept short film. I actually explained everything I would do if I were his defense attorney in this post. I don't really want to be his lawyer, though. I want to be his boyfriend. I want to be the one that posts his bail if possible... and, if not possible, I would come to visit him as often as I was legally and physically able to just to give him someone to talk to. I want to show up for his trial dates as moral support. I want to let him move in with me when he's finally acquitted and needs someone to lean on. I want to hold David. I want to hug him. I want to kiss him, kiss him softly. On the cheeks and neck and lips. I want to fuck this man. I will reset him, re-calibrate him, via prostate orgasm. I want to shatter his world and put it back together... who said that...

Verdict: SMASH

Adam from Saw (2004) dir. James Wan

I care very deeply about Adam. I would take care of this dude. I honestly just want to support him. I'm very aware of the fact that I have a service-oriented loyalty complex like some kind of human PTSD dog and I embrace that fact about myself. I love Adam like a really close roommate or a best friend or maybe an ex-boyfriend I'm on really good terms with and I still care a lot about platonically. I want to let Adam freeload. I want to let him move in with me and not pay rent because he needs the support and he's too depressed to care for himself lately. I want to wash his hair. I want to do his laundry with mine, I want to cook and share meals with him, I want to gently pressure him into calling his mom back because I want to see his situation and mood improve. I'd volunteer to go with him to appointments of any kind to be his advocate in any medical, business, social services or whatever setting. I'd know I'm not responsible for him but I'd want him to know he could lean on me when he needs it. But I don't really want to smash. It wouldn't be a non-option, but I'd much rather talk to him about politics and art over some dinner in our shared apartment.

Verdict: PASS

Spink from Death Sentence (2007) dir. James Wan

Anyone who actually, genuinely knows me knows that Michael Scofield from Prison Break was one of my first guycrushes... Not the actual first, but certainly one of them. Spink is the same kind of twink as Michael Scofield. Looks aside, he thinks he's tough and hard while compensating for shortcomings and vulnerabilities. I find that insanely attractive. I want to be the one who gets him off speed, I want to be the one who talks him into leaving the gang and fleeing to Canada or Alaska with me without police intervention so that he doesn't have to make deals he's uncomfortable with that will end up costing him his freedom and an actual chance at a fresh start. Where was I going with this? Doesn't matter. I'm smashing that twink.

Verdict: SMASH

Matt from Dying Breed (2008) dir. Jody Dwyer

I can't, in good conscience, say that I would smash Matt, at least not on his own. Conditional smash. I'd want to be Matt and Nina's third. I don't want to get in the way of what they have. I think they're both so adorable. And, yes, I think they're both attractive and sweet. They clearly care a lot about each other and respect each other and show each other affection in a boundary-sensitive way. Because I live in denial, I also live in a fantasy world of my own interiority's creation in which Nina and Matt escaped their captors and managed to survive and they make it back to Ireland and I would absolutely be ready and willing to be their support person. I want to be their third, also in a roommate-like way, or maybe as a domestic partner? But I absolutely care about them and I'd do anything for them. The old "it's rotten work / not to me, not if it's you" and all that. Trauma-informed bisexual polyamory. Love wins.

Verdict: SMASH

Specs from Insidious (2010) dir. James Wan, Insidious: Chapter 2 (2013) dir. James Wan, Insidious: Chapter 3 (2015) dir. Leigh Whannell, Insidious: The Last Key (2018) dir. Adam Robitel, and Insidious: The Red Door (2023) dir. Patrick Wilson

Jesus Christ, I am so fucking crazy about Steven "Specs" Fisher. I lose all composure when I see him. His dorkyass endearing nerd aura drives me insane with lust. I have never needed anything as badly as I need to flirt with him and make him feel special. Not to be NSFW but I will also note that I am a trans Specs truther and want it to be known that I can, would, and will eat this man out. I will handjob finger this man to several orgasms. As a stone butch service top, I'm a giver only so he doesn't have to worry about reciprocating, anyway, if that's a going concern. Sorry for how crude I sound, I just want to make this man cum.

Verdict: SMASH

Donovan from The Debt Collector (2012) dir. Rich Ceraulo Ko

Goddamn. I need to spot him from across the room at a dive bar punk show, make my way over there, tell him he has beautiful hands, pretty eyes, and a cute face, offer to buy him a drink, ask him if he wants to come back to my place, and hook up with him.

Verdict: SMASH

David from Crush (2013) dir. Malik Bader

Truth be told, I've never seen Crush. He looks like a nice enough guy. I wouldn't not smash... but he's definitely not at the top of my list.

Verdict: SMASH

Clement from The Pardon (2013) dir. Tom Anton

Given the fact that Clement Moss was, in fact, a real man who actually existed and really did try and fail to defend an innocent woman from being sent to her death by electric chair in the 1940s, I must respectfully pass.

Verdict: PASS

Doug from Cooties (2014) dir. Cary Murnion and Jonathan Milott

Come with me on a little journey of imagination, will you? Imagine, with me, a desolate world where a rapidly-spreading virus has taken possession of a significant percentage of children across the country, the catastrophe quickly spreading to the rest of the world. Trust me, human encampments are popping up to defend against the zombie scourge. Think of one of the many enclaves of surface-dwellers in Fallout. Think of a camp like that where survivors have situated themselves advantageously, they function communally, and welcome clean, virus-free outsiders regardless of whether they can pitch in to help or not. I like to imagine I'd be keeping myself safe in a fort or a settlement like that, and I like to imagine that Doug and the band of teachers traveling together would be taken in by such a place, sanctuary rule style. Doug? Doug is a hard pass for me, sexually and romantically, but he seems like he could really use someone to talk at. So imagine, one last time, a group of adults prepping nightly communal dinner from non-perishable foods (we are 100% making some meatless chili with canned beans, corn, and other veggies and seasoning it well so that everyone has some comfort food before bed)... and, while I'm working the gas stove, keeping a big ol' batch of the vegetarian chili hot to serve, I let Doug take my chair and sit down and ramble and infodump away while I dish out servings to our comrades. Doesn't that sound nice? And, yes, believe me, I'll be trying to reform some of his wayward misconceptions about everything. I can't outright discard him. It may have been for comic relief but we're TBI buddies, so I empathize. He seems like a well-meaning dude with some issues that can be smoothed out, autism-to-autism communication style. So, respectfully, I pass.

Verdict: PASS

Gavin from The Mule (2014) dir. Tony Mahony and Angus Sampson

Good fucking grief. Gavin Alastair Ellis. Gavin would absolutely hate me for it but I would not be afraid to scrap, punch, bite, and claw Ray in order to lay claim over Gavin… and, listen, we can make the polyamory thing work but only as a throuple composed of two people who hate each other but who both love the person who serves as the keystone member of the relationship. That's the only way this is going to work. Ray's a sweet dude but he is not my type, not for this. Realistically, we'd probably be on very friendly terms because I do think Ray's alright… but I need Gavin in such a deeply carnal way so bad it makes me look stupid. Oh my God. This slut made me cry.

Verdict: SMASH

Larry from The Bye Bye Man (2017) dir. Stacy Title

You couldn't get me to feel anything for this man even if you forced me to at gunpoint.

Verdict: PASS

Matt from Keep Watching (2017) dir. Sean Carter

I need to fuck him sloppy... by the way, if you even care.

Verdict: SMASH

Jatt from Legend of the Guardians (2010) dir. Zack Snyder

This is literally an animated owl from a piece of children's media. DISQUALIFIED.

Verdict: HARD PASS

[asteria-argo]

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

So, fun fact about me is that I've never written physical whump before in my life. I also haven't written a batman fic in about two years so I figured this was as good a chance as any to warm up those two skills of mine.

Is it good? not really. Was it fun? yeah. Did the prompt do it's job of getting me to try something new and accept that writing is a skill I need to work at and can't be automatically good at all the time no matter how much I want to be? absolutely.

Anyway here you go!

In Dick’s defense, he didn’t think Jason would break his arm. It isn’t much of a defense sure, but he doesn’t have a better one. It all started pretty innocently, especially for a pair of child vigilantes. One could argue they were on the best behaviour they possibly could have been when left unsupervised in the manor all by themselves while Alfred was out for the day running errands and Bruce was at work doing whatever it is CEO’s did. They didn’t even sneak out to solve crime or anything.

They’d just been hanging out. Well, sort of. Bruce had tasked Dick with keeping an eye on Jason today, whatever that meant, and for as much as Dick had whined about it when Bruce had first asked him to watch Jay while he was at work, it wasn’t like he actually had something better to do. The rest of the titans were all busy, Babs was preparing for her SATs and had muted Dicks number for the weekend preemptively, even his regular school friends weren’t available. Besides watching Jason wasn’t actually that hard. He was twelve after all, he could feed himself and everything. Dick was just there in case of an emergency really.

Like breaking his arm because he and Dick thought sparring on a trampoline with those foam swords they got at the dollar store when they’d been helping Alfie do the groceries the day before would be a fun idea. And once again, in Dick’s defense, he didn’t think Jason was going to break his arm!

The kid was Robin! They both do way more dangerous stuff without getting injured all the time! Just the night before he and Jason had gone train surfing chasing down some of Penguins goons and come away completely unscathed! Jason being felled by a poorly timed jump and the ground wasn’t something Dick really considered a possibility when he was appointed the responsible adult of the day.

But, despite the extensive combat and survival training at the hands of Batman himself, despite the reflexes he’d been honing for months as Robin, one wrong bounce sent Jason toppling over the edge of the trampoline to meet his greatest enemy yet: gravity.

It all happened fast, but when Dick thinks back on it it’s almost sickeningly slow. Jason had been smacking him in the shoulder with his sword, laughing with the kind of maniacal glee only an adrenaline high twelve year old could manage, at the fact he’d been successfully beating Dick back into one corner of the trampoline, then Dick had lunged forward to whack Jason in the stomach and defend himself just as Jason had bounced himself. Jason, being the smaller of the two of them, promptly went flying right off the edge of the trampoline with a strangled yelp landing on the ground beside them with the kind of sickening crack Dick was very used to hearing on their nightly patrols.

“Shit.” Dick said, standing on the trampoline alone all of a sudden and not quite sure what to do until he heard Jason make a strangled noise from the crumpled heap he was in on the floor. If the crack hadn’t been enough, the mottled red skin around his wrist accompanied by an obviously out of place bone certainly painted a vivid picture of what happened. “shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

Dick climbs down from the trampoline quickly, kneeling in front of Jason whose biting his lip so hard he’s on the verge of drawing blood, his eyes brimming with pained tears that he was refusing to let fall as he took carefully measured breaths through clenched teeth. Jason sometimes reminds Dick of a stray dog, not that he’d ever tell him that, all gnashed teeth and scary growls to hide the fact that he’s hurt and scared. It proved true enough in the moment, when Jason glared at him with as much fire as someone on the verge of tears could muster and hissed “don’t touch me!”

“I need to look at it Jay,” Dick said, trying to go for soothing. He and Jason weren’t exactly the embodiment of tenderness though. Truthfully, Dick and Jason didn’t really have a relationship at all. They were friendly, could get along by themselves for a few hours at a time, but Dick tried not to be around the manor much these days if he could help it, and Jason tended to follow Bruce like a second shadow, which was something Dick hadn’t wanted to touch with a 10 foot pole, so it wasn’t like they had a well established rapport going. “I need to check if it’s broken.”

“Obviously it’s broken dick.” Jason growled, spitting his name in a way that made it very clear he was using it as an insult. And maybe it would have been insulting, if Jason didn’t look so tiny in front of him clutching his arm close to his chest, his nose red and eyes shiny with a wobbly lip, trying so hard not to cry even with a broken wrist. Even his growling came out meek, raspy and breathless because he didn’t have enough energy to put behind it to really come across as anything but pained and defensive.

It’s easy to forget that Jason's only twelve. Robin has a way of making you seem so much larger than life, even when you aren’t wearing the mask, it’s almost like the kid that’s wearing it hardly exists underneath. Until of course, you’re abruptly reminded just how human you really are by having your wrist broken in a tragic trampolining accident.

“Okay,” Dick said gently, and he was aware he was talking to Jason the same way he talks to the scared animals he finds on patrol sometimes, but he wasn’t sure how else he was supposed to calm him down “yeah, you’re right, but I still need to look at it. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you Jason.”

It was with great reluctance Jason uncurled from the ball he’d screwed himself up into to allow Dick to check his wrist, which after a brief glance was 100% confirmed to be broken. It had taken a minute, Jason staring at dick with wide, teary eyes and a furrowed brow as he sniffled miserably, no doubt in a lot of pain. It was funny, how much more things seemed to hurt when they weren’t in their suits. Maybe it was just the body armour, but Dick was pretty sure there was some kind of psychology behind it all that made it so much easier to take a beating with a mask on.

“I want Bruce.” Jason muttered, as Dick prodded at his wrist and caused him to hiss in pain, flinching at the impact violently and looking at Dick with betrayal.

“I’ll call Bruce,” Dick promised, standing and pulling Jason up with him as gently as he could without jostling his arm “but we have to go to the hospital so they can fix your wrist.”

Jasons face screwed up, his freckled nose wrinkling in disgust at the thought. Dick didn’t blame him, he didn’t exactly like hospitals all that much himself, but for all his first aid training as a vigilante, setting a broken wrist was something better left to the professionals.

“This is all your fault.” Jason declared sullenly. He wasn’t even wrong, even if the whole thing hadn’t been his idea, he was supposed to be the responsible adult vetoing dangerous ideas like trampoline sparring. But again in Dick’s defense, he really hadn’t thought Jason would break his arm!

Dick ushered Jason to the car with a sigh. Bruce was probably never going to leave him in charge again.

[d999666]

Galactik football S1 ep5 review - (2/3)

Mice: what's with this mood? we're not going to a funeral. Thran : yes we are Mice : Relax it's only a football match after all?

>> Comment: Mice looks optimistic. No, in fact, he didn't have any hope in the first place. But in contrast, D'jok says, 'It's not just a game,' because he's betting everything on this game. Because it's his destiny to win the game and be the representative of the planet.

Here's where we can see if micro-ice takes this 'game' as a self-defensive, but the rest isn't.

League official : let the best team win Artego : that would be my team Aarch : I see you haven't lost your legendary sense of modesty Artego.

Artego : Modesty is the pride of the mediocre

League officia : Well dear, this looks like a promising match we're not going to be bored

Adim : Come on you two Shakes hands.

Atrego: (I don't want to shake hands. I never want to shake hands with Aarch.) Aarch: (I don't want to either.)

Adim : YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID, SHAKE HANDS

Aarch believes in Snowkid, and calls for 'together' to the end.

Rocket : s…sir, can't i say something? Mice : Wow!! the guys speak! did you know that?

>> Comment: Didn't they all play a soccer card game together? Everyone reacted like Rocket was saying for the first time here, so I'm embarrassed.

Sinedd : Anyway what matters is facetime. Who knows another club might want me?

D'jok : What I like about Is your sense of team spirit

>> Comment : Sinedd doesn't seem attached to SK. Someone is aiming to scout him.

Aarch suddenly calls Rocket. And he gives Rocket the Captain armBand.

>> Comment: Uh... This scene isn't touching. I'm embarrassed about this. Aarch had to be fair and choose the captain. Of course, the rocket is analytical and best suited to the captain's position. But this was wrong because Aarch didn't choose the rocket as the captain in front of everyone. D'jok and Sinedd and Mei would have wanted a captain, of course. Did Aarch ask for the opinions of the other children? As Micro-ice and mei said, Rocket didn't speak well with the other kids, and he didn't get along. Even if Aarch is the Director and he can decide everything about the team himself, Aarch should have explained to all the team members why 'Rocket was fit as captain in advance', and appointed him as captain. It is not right to speak when there is only the director and his nephew.

>> Comment: The full shot of my favorite Snowkids

>> Comment: The game is about to begin. Because it's Akillian's home stadium, players appear from the floor. As the stadium lights up, you can see the inside of some of the ice-covered stadiums. And you can see the emblem of the Akillian team on the floor. Did they embody their flux? I think this emblem represent balls in their breath. There's not a single spectator inside the stadium. The stadium used to be a huge 'grave.' No one goes near it because so many people were trapped and killed in the stadium when the ice age began. So even the children's parents didn't come to cheer. Snowkid has to have a lonely fight here.

>> Comment: D'jok gets the ball first. Sinedd and Thran are doing well, too.

>> Comment: snowkids that Aarch and Rocket explain tactics but the body doesn't follow.

>> Comment: It was good at first, but I keep losing the ball to the Red Tigers.

Played by the Red Tigers, they scored the first goal.

>> Comment : LOL Look at their goal celebration. Isn't it funny? They didn't say anything but they definitely make Ahito angry for their actions.

>> Comment: Rocket is the captain, but I don't think anyone is following him.

Do you know why?

[I don't think anyone in the team knows that rocket is the captain.]

Sinedd is being uncooperative again. He's not team-playing at all.

And the Red Tigers scored their second goal.

2:0 Score Situation... Desperate.