#is it reasonable to move halfway across the country for a job? no

[farsailing]

sea problems have progressed to the point im considering taking a job in the atlantic provinces just to see her again. i went to charlottetown in october for a conference but couldnt actually Get to the ocean due to 1. no car and 2. aftermath of hurricane fiona :( closest i got was the harbor where i could see her through the inlet :(

[1phakephan]

🗣️🗣️ pov dan and phil base their pizza selection in part 2 of their iconic mukbang video on their hatred for the detroit pizza company that almost ruined your life

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Slice Of Normal

Summary: The reader has just moved to Montana to live with her estranged father and out of a place where she no longer feels welcome. But it's been a long time since the pair have lived together and while Beau might think things can slip back to normal, it's not quite that easy...

Pairing: dad!Beau x daughter!reader

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, family angst, divorce, mention of murder case

A/N: Here's a little Beau and daughter!reader for the first time!

_____

“Hey, kiddo,” said your dad as you tossed your backpack in the backseat. “How was school?”

“Fine,” you forced out, pilling into the front, glaring out the windshield. You felt his heated stare but he dropped it, pulling out of the line of cars at pick up and heading for home. He tapped his fingers against the wheel, words clearly on the tip of his tongue. But once again he didn’t say anything. 

Sometimes it was like living with a damn stranger.

Two years ago, life was normal. Your parents were married. Dad had a good job as a cop. Mom was doing her consulting. Every day you went home to two parents. You had the same friends you had your whole life. You got a starbucks with your mom every Saturday morning and you made homemade pizzas for dinner. You watched trash reality shows with your dad and you’d both get way too invested in the petty drama. It was all perfectly normal.

Until he went to work one day and it went to hell. Dad’s partner was killed and he blamed himself for not stopping it. He was…strange after that. He still asked about school and your day, still watched your shitty shows with you. But there was no joy in him. He felt guilty and dad wasn’t much of one for sharing his own feelings. You knew he’d get better with time. 

That’s when things got strange with mom too. She started to pick fights with him. She kept trying to force him to go to some expensive trauma therapist. All three of you knew he was hurting but she was the only one that said he was broken. You’d never forget the look on his face when she barked it at him in a fight. 

Watching one parent fall out of love with another in front of your own eyes was your own strange experience. You knew in that moment she’d left a mark on him, one that’d make him shutdown even more, hold even more feelings back from her. There’d be more fights. More snide comments. She’d get fed up and divorce him.

Four months after the shootout, she handed him the divorce papers and a flip switched in him. He started to fight back, the both of them bickering and arguing so much you found yourself storming downstairs and yelling at them both to act like adults. Dad moved out not long after that and within a month mom had a new boyfriend.

You stuck it out until last week before you knew you’d go crazy if you stayed in that house, your house, with her and that guy for one more second. 

Which meant moving halfway across the country to fucking Montana to live with a guy you hadn’t seen in person in six months.

“Mom’s marrying her boyfriend,” you said when he stopped at a red light. You didn’t look at him, sure he once again didn’t know what to say. “That’s why I wanted to move here. He doesn’t give two shits about me but he fakes it real good when she’s around.”

“Your mother should know-”

“She doesn’t listen to me when I try to talk and I’m sick of it. I know you know she’s like that,” you said, turning your head. He glanced down, gaze back on the road. “She’s a bitch.”

“Hey. Don’t talk about your mother like that.”

“Why not?” you scoffed. “She is one. You of all people know she is.”

“Mom is not a bitch,” he said, hitting the gas when the light turned, getting you off a busy street and heading for the outskirts of town. “Y/N, we raised you better than to call people names.”

“You’re defending her? You? She only drove you out of your own home, own family.” He gripped the wheel tighter, clenching his jaw. “Jesus christ. You still love her, don’t you. Why the hell would-”

“I am the reason…I moved out and I left. I refused to acknowledge the shit going on in my head and all mom tried to do was get me help. Do not blame her for-”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed. “I’d get out of her ass if I were you. Some other guy is fucking it now and she’s never taking you back.”

He pulled over fast, shaking his head at you. His green eyes narrowed, mouth opening just as his car radio crackled to life.

“Arlen,” he growled into the radio, frowning at you, a clear message to not say another word right now. 

“Chief we got reports of a murder-suicide at the Breckenridge Ranch. Jenny and Pop are taking lead but are requesting your presence,” said a woman’s voice on the other end. 

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He clipped the radio back in, taking a deep breath. “Y/N you are going to listen to me and I mean listen to me because I am about to have a very long night and we are not dropping this discussion. I don’t care for the way you speak and I do not like the way you talk about your mom. You don’t like her boyfriend, fiance, fine. But you’ll at least respect him. You don’t like you mother? Then at a minimum you will respect her. You do not call people bitch. You are grounded until further notice.”

“Wow,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m on your side and I’m the asshole. My old dad would have understood that but you? I don’t know who the fuck you are. Go ahead and ground me. I literally don’t care. You’re a fucking stranger.”

He was pissed. Very pissed. He turned back on the road and did a u-turn, heading back into town. You raised an eyebrow but he held up a finger. “No. You want to swear at me? Call me a stranger? Fine. I’m going to work. You’re a big enough girl to have a potty mouth then you don’t mind a little murder scene, hmm? You want to know what the fuck I do all day? Well now’s your chance to see, maybe I’ll be less of a damn stranger that way.”

You kept quiet, staring out the window for the next twenty minutes. You swallowed when he drove past a cruiser at the ranch entrance and yellow tape, driving silently down the dirt road. 

“Stay in the truck,” he said when he parked behind another cruiser outside a nearby barn. You bit the inside of your lip, hearing him shift around behind you. A few seconds later you had your backpack in your lap. “Do your homework.”

“I thought you wanted me to see dead bodies,” you mumbled, fisting one of the straps. His heavy sigh filled the space, a twinge of guilt in your gut.

“I never want that for you. We’ll get dinner out somewhere in a few hours. We need to talk. Not fight. Talk,” he said, pausing a beat before opening his door.

“Why didn’t you take me home?” you asked. He slid out, his shoulders sagging with his back to you.

“Because I’m scared you won’t be there when I get back.” He turned around, plucking his hat from the center console. You stared at him as he frowned. “I know you ran away from home two weeks ago, kid. We are not letting that happen again. Understand?”

You gave a small nod, the door closing loudly in the small space before you shut your eyes.

Maybe you should have just stayed in Texas.

Three Hours Later

You’d finished your homework awhile ago and were watching videos on your phone when you saw your dad approach the truck. He said something to a blonde cop lady and another guy, giving them a quick wave.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said, back in the truck, tossing his hat in the back.

“S’fine.” He was backed out and heading for the road quickly, rubbing his hand against his jaw. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Why?”

“You were at a murder scene…” you said, catching a quick twitch of his lip. “Do dead bodies not scare you?”

“Not really. Sometimes you see bad things but a vast majority of the time, murders are…” he bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. “There are scenes that are gruesome but most murders are not something out of a horror film, at least to me. You get desensitized to it somewhat. Even the bad ones, it doesn’t tend to bother me. They were a person and unfortunately they lost their life in a violent way. My job is to act on their behalf and get them the justice they deserve. They aren’t scary bodies. It’s a soul that’s gone that I can help is the way I look at it.”

He cleared his throat as he pulled back onto the road.

“But Helena is much safer than Houston. Not as many murders or any of that.” You hummed, glancing out the window. “Y/N, I know you’re upset with me right now but I want you to be careful. Something is…happening. I don’t know what it is but be careful. No going out at night alone. Keep the doors and windows locked all the time. Be smart, alright?”

“Ok,” you said quietly. “That wasn’t a murder-suicide, was it.”

“It was a very good attempt at making it look like one. If my officers weren’t as good at their jobs, they would have written it up as one instead of what it was. A double murder. My gut says it wasn’t random though which means it’s less likely anyone else winds up hurt.” 

“S’good,” you mumbled before the air went quiet. He only tapped the steering wheel, no rhythm to it. Tap tap. Tap tap. 

He had no problem talking about work since you’d moved in a week ago. God, the first day he’d talked too much, trying to fill the awkward silences. Maybe he’d been gone too long and this is what your relationship was now.

You closed your eyes, resting your head on the glass, wishing he’d never left in the first place. 

You jerked and flashed open your eyes when he shook your shoulder. The inside of the truck smelled like grease and the brown bag on the dash confirmed your suspicions. He nodded out the window and you turned, finding you were at a fairly deserted park. You left your backpack behind and crawled out, walking over to the nearest picnic table. A moment later he was sat across from you, pulling out a box of chicken nuggets, fries and two packets of sauce.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the food from him as he took out a bigger box and more fries for himself.

“Well, I figured your McDonald’s go to hadn’t changed at least.” You shrugged, the two of you eating without saying another word. But it didn’t last, the food soon gone, the trash bundled up and tossed in a nearby can. 

Your dad sighed when he returned to his seat, resting his forearms against the faded wood top.

“Y/N. I…I left you and mom. If there’s anyone you should hate-”

“Why do you keep lying for her?” you interrupted. He swallowed thickly, breathing out a slow breath. “You left because she tossed you out. You didn’t leave because you wanted to.”

“...She had every right to.” You rolled your eyes, his hand raising. “Please. Just listen. Mom tried to get me help and I was the one that was an asshole about it. I blamed myself, I still do. She did what you’re supposed to for a partner. I pushed her away and us not being together anymore is because of me.”

You shook your head, a frown forming on his face. “I lived in that house too. I know you or at least I used to. I knew you were hurting and we couldn’t fix it. But I got that. It was something you had to go through, at your pace. You did the same thing when grandpa died. You got all quiet and pushed it down. And mom…she was a bitch back then too and tried to force you to get better faster all because she didn’t like having a grieving husband. You are supposed to help your partner, not hurt them more. Your problem has always been that you’re too in love with her to see that she hurts you. Just for one second imagine that was my husband that did that to me. Imagine he tried to force me into therapy less than a week after my best friend died because I was fucking sad and didn’t want to talk about it. Imagine my partner made me feel even worse and like I was the problem during one of the lowest moments of my life. Imagine that he was the one that made me feel like all of it was my fault when I was grieving. You’d tell me to leave his ass so I’m asking you to please, please stop defending her. I’m not a little kid anymore, dad.”

“No, you’re clearly not,” he said quietly, staring down at his lap. “I just don’t want you to hate your mother. Her heart was in the right place, even if that’s not how I process things.”

“I don’t hate her. I just don’t like her anymore. I told her so many times I didn’t like her boyfriend and she wouldn’t listen to me. You would have listened to me. S’why I ran away. I was trying to come here.” 

He pursed his lips and you waited, giving him time to respond the way he wanted to. 

“I wish…I wish mom and I had handled things differently. But what happened, happened. I would like to see you attempt to reconcile with your mom but I won’t force it.”

“Thank you,” you said, a quick nod coming from him.

“But…you are also a bit thick headed.” You frowned. “I know you are a teenager and dad isn’t the cool guy anymore but I reached out every single day and you definitely didn’t answer. I invited you to visit so many times and you never would. So cut your mom some slack because if you’re giving me that treatment, I can only imagine it’s the same for her.”

“Fine,” you grit out, trying to ignore how he may have had a point about why your relationship had soured. You sort of started ignoring him but you’d been busy and he needed space to work through his crap, hadn’t he?

“And for the record, it’s possible to still love someone but not want to be married to them ever again.” You stared at him, his shoulders sagging. “I don’t want to deal with an attitude all the time and you don’t want me to be a grump that hounds you every day. Can we try a clean slate? Pretend this afternoon didn’t happen?”

“Alright. We can try.”

The Next Day

You rubbed your jaw as you sat on the hard bench outside of the principal’s office. You had to hand it to Mara Hoyt. The little bitch knew how to throw a right hook. You guess that’s what happened when the star softball pitcher decided she hated your guts all because her boyfriend said hi to you on your first day.

On her own, you could have handled that. But this school was cliche central and the mean popular girl got all her mean popular friends to start bullying you after that. You were honestly surprised it took a whole eight days for things to get physical.

She was already in the office with her parents, crying the blues about how awful you were and bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Shit, you hadn’t even touched the girl yet you were the one the school resource officer threw a pair of cuffs on. 

The sharp skid of a rubber sole against linoleum made both you and the officer turn your heads, your dad staring at you both wide eyed.

“Todd, get those cuffs of her or so help me,” growled your dad, storming over. 

“Sir? What are you-”

“How many Arlen’s do you think there are in this town? That’s my daughter,” he grit out. Todd moved at lightning speed the second he had the keys out of his pocket, apologizing to his boss and not you. You had to fight to not roll your eyes. You had a feeling with the way your dad’s face looked murderous that wouldn’t go over well.

“Excuse me,” said the vice principal, coming out to the hall with a stern expression. “Why is she uncuffed? She attacked-”

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” said your dad with a scary undertone in his voice, neglecting to offer his hand. “Y/N’s father and Chief of police over at the station. We don’t cuff seventeen year old girls unless they’ve committed a crime. Now, if after our discussion and I hear all the facts it turns out she did, I’ll cuff her myself and take her down for booking. Am I clear?”

The vice principal narrowed his eyes but said nothing, holding the door open. You trudged inside, your dad hot on your heels. You sat in the empty chair in front of the desk, Mara doing a good job of looking like a sobbing mess in the one nearby.

“Mr. Arlen?” the principal asked. He hummed, finding a spot along the wall and leaning against it with crossed arms, his eyes shooting to Mara. “I’m afraid we’ll have to suspend Y/N for attacking Mara for five days out of school.”

“And we’re pressing charges, even if you are the sheriff,” said a snotty woman. 

God were you working hard to not flip that whole family off. You were about to open your mouth and try to give your side of the story when you saw your dad’s face and his finger wag at you.

Uh oh. 

“Where do we want to begin? The way this school only got one students side of the story-”

“There are witnesses,” cut in the vice principal, your dad holding up a hand.

“Let me guess, Mara’s friends?” he shot back, clenching his jaw, returning his focus to the principal. “Now I know for a fact my daughter is getting bullied by this girl and her friends every single day since she started last week.”

You swallowed. You hadn’t told him that. How had he known?

He stepped forward, putting his hands on the back of your chair, leaning over it so you felt his chest against the top of your head.

“Do we want to start with the blatant bullying? Or perhaps with Mara?” he asked, turning his head to her, shooting her parents a glare. “You know, the one who actually did the attacking.”

“My daughter did no such thing,” snapped her dad. You felt your dad reach an arm around, gently grasping your forearm and holding it up.

“One girl has only defensive injuries. Bruises, nail marks. The other has scrapped knuckles, two broken fingernails and can’t look me in the eye. Guess which one is which,” growled your dad, his hand still gentle as he lowered your arm to your lap. Mara’s parents didn’t look like they were about to backdown though.

“There are witnesses. This is ridiculous. Mara acted in self-defense then,” said her mom. You glanced at the principal, his words caught in his throat and you couldn’t help but smile for a moment.

“Oh so now her story is changing?” poked your dad.

“No!” said her mom. “Your daughter said something so vile and threatening-”

“To her bully? Did Y/N say something like that to you Mara? Did she say something because her bully’s been so mean to her?”

“Don’t speak to our daughter!” shouted her dad. Mara glanced at you, as if you’d somehow help her. Meanwhile this was turning out to be the best day of your new school yet.

“I don’t hear her denying she was bullying Y/N? In fact, I don’t hear her saying anything. If it’s so abhorrent and you felt in so much danger, why don’t you tell us all what it was that made you act in self-defense, hm?” said your dad, his focus narrowed in on Mara. 

She was so fucked and she knew it. 

“I said don’t-”

“Alec,” interrupted the vice principal, his focus turned onto Mara as well. “Mara. Answer the question.”

But she couldn’t. She was floundering, face turning red under the interrogation. 

“Tell the truth and the Arlen family,” growled your dad, pointed straight back at her parents, “Will not press any charges.”

Mara contorted her face before throwing her hands up. “She called me insecure and said I should get help for that so I got mad and punched and kicked her.”

“And why did she call you that?” cut in your dad, laser focused on Mara. She closed her eyes, lowering her head. “Mara.”

“Because I’ve been bullying her because my boyfriend said hi to her and said we should get to know her because she’s new but I know he just wants to get in her pants so I told all my friends to keep her away from him no matter what.”

“I expect an apology,” he said. She looked up, eyes full of unshed tears. “Oh, not to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, barely looking at you.

“Thanks. I don’t accept it and that is perfectly within my rights,” you said. 

“Regardless, Mara you’re suspended for five days out of school. Y/N, you’re suspended for two. We have a zero tolerance policy on fighting,” said the principal.

“She didn’t fight,” said your dad, his voice stern. 

“It’s a rule,” said the principal.

“Fine,” said your dad, grabbing your bicep and pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go get lunch out, maybe catch a movie.”

You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as he led you out, his hand falling away when he looked over his shoulder. “Three more things. One, I fully expect punishments for the students that lied about what they saw. Two, I hear of anymore bullying happening at this school to any kid, I will make it my personal mission in life to get you fired and three? You people get your daughter in therapy sooner than later because that’s the sort of thing that gets her tossed in jail when she’s older.”

He tossed your backpack over his shoulder as he led you out to the hall, hand on your back leading you towards the front doors. You grinned as you stared, his face blank when he opened the door to fresh air.

“That was fucking awesome,” you said, jogging down the steps and over to the truck. “You went full cop mode and scared the shit of her! That was-”

“Are you okay?” he asked when you sat in the passenger seat. You tilted your head when he cupped your cheeks, running his thumb over the scuffed up skin on the left. “We need to clean that.”

He pushed up your short sleeves, finding more bruises, a few older ones, before trailing down to your nicked up arms.

“Y/N, I know you’re a good kid that doesn’t like to get in trouble but promise me something?” You nodded when he fixed your braid behind your ear. “Next time someone touches you without permission, you lay their ass out.”

“You told me I shouldn’t hit people.”

“Yeah, well the little bitch would have deserved it.” Your jaw dropped into a grin, his attempt at holding a blank face faltering, a smile creeping up. “Yeah, I know I said not to call people that but that kid’s a psycho waiting to happen. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you said, getting a kiss on the forehead. “How’d you know I didn’t start the fight?”

“I know you. I also know there would have been no fight because if you had thrown the first punch, that girl would be knocked out.” He stroked your cheek again and sighed. “No headache? Anything like that?”

“She punches like a pussy.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Too far?”

“Just a tad. Come on. Let’s go enjoy your suspension.”

Later That Evening

“Alec’s my second cousin, such a dickhead,” said one of dad’s officer’s, the blonde woman named Jenny you’d seen last night. “Mara’s always been awful.”

“Jenny,” chided your dad in his office, chowing down on some chinese takeout from behind his desk. You gave her a smile, eating from your carton as she set a file down in front of him. “Don’t be a bad influence.”

“If I were her, I would have decked the little shit,” said Jenny. Your dad rolled his eyes and read through the file, Jenny stealing a fortune cookie for herself. She leaned against his desk and offered you a smile. “So besides the school being crap thing and your dad dragging you to murder scenes, how do you like Montana so far?”

“Jenny,” he said again, glancing over the top of the file at her.

“It’s a lot less boring than I thought it’d be,” you said, offering her one of your egg rolls. 

“Thank you,” she said, popping it in her mouth, returning her attention to your dad. “Both vics had traces of a yellow substance in their air passages.”

“Rat poison?” you asked, both of them slowly turning their heads towards you. They stared blankly as you chewed. “It was in that new hunger games movie, they killed a guy with it.”

“Wow,” said Jenny as your dad closed his eyes. “That’s impressive.”

“I don’t even…” he sighed, rubbing his jaw as he flashed open his eyes. “So rat poison killed them. Why make it look like a murder suicide then? This person must have known we’d do autopsies.”

“Unless they didn’t,” you said, earning a glare from him. “Hey, people are dumb. You taught me that when I was like eight.”

“Y/N-”

“No, she has a point,” said Jenny, picking up her copy of the file and glancing through it. “Who is smart enough to use rat poison but dumb enough to not realize we’d find it and try to cover it up?”

“No one, that’s who,” said your dad. You bit into another eggroll and shrugged. He threw his hand back and groaned. “Fine. What’s your theory?”

“Well, a kid is dumb enough,” you said. “Maybe they watched that movie too.”

“Genius plan except that couple had no kids,” he said. You finished your bite and shrugged. “What?”

“Weren’t you the one that also told me people aren’t always what they seem and not to trust someone just because they were nice? They could have been whackjobs.”

Jenny cocked her head, glancing at your dad. “Kid has a point, Arlen. It was a large property. Entirely possible we missed something.”

“Fine. We’ll check it out first thing,” he said, nodding to you. “You might as well come along Ms. Detective, since you’re out ot school for a few days.”

“Good with me. As long as it’s not early. I don’t do early,” you said, a tiny smirk on his face that told you you’d be up at dawn.

The Next Afternoon

“What’s going to happen to him?” you asked as your dad drove you both home after a long morning. He was quiet for a beat. “Will he go to juvie?”

“Maybe. Maybe a hospital for people like him. Either way, it’s a better situation than he was in,” he said. He tapped the wheel, his lips pursed. “You know I don’t want you to be a cop right?”

“I know. It’s just…it’s easy to talk to you about your work,” you said. He nodded, turning off to the road just a minute drive from the house. 

“So can you rent this movie with the rat poison?” he asked. You stared, his eyes flickering over for just a moment. “I thought Katniss took out the capital. How can they have another movie?”

“It’s a prequel, about Snow.” 

“Whoa, Donald Sutherland Snow? They made a movie about that jackass?” 

“Well, she wrote another book and then they made it into a movie. It was really good cause you can see how he’s a complete narcissist and he goes from this actually mostly likable guy to the jackass in the other movies.”

“Okay, I definitely have to see this.” He pulled into the driveway, your gaze fixed on him when he turned the car off. “Unless you don’t want to watch it?”

“No I just…I miss when I’d make you watch the hunger games and you’d make me watch the dirty dozen and that was our thing.”

“Still our thing,” he said, brushing his thumb over the healing scrape on your cheek. “How’s that feeling today?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“I know, I know. I worry.” He opened the door and smiled as he popped out. “Alright little criminal. Go do that homework you ignored all day while I make us something to eat before our movie.”

“Really? Come on. I’m still suspended tomorrow. Can’t I do it over the weekend?” He looked up like he was thinking about it, a small smile crossing his face. “Thank you!”

“You’re helping me with dinner, missy.” You didn’t really mind that fact though. Making dinner together and watching a movie? That was normal for the two of you. 

A few hours later when you were bundled up under a blanket together on the couch and pressing start, you finally felt like it was a normal thursday night, no more tension or awkwardness in the air. And while murder investigations and school fights were certainly interesting, a little slice of normal again felt damn good.

_________

[withacapitalp]

Because the girlies really loved my last post about Argyle (and I can't remember if I put this here or not) have some more unconditional jargyle love

“I got a job today,” 

All conversation halted as over a dozens pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. Argyle gave them all a half smile and shoving some more vegetables in his mouth. 

“A job?” Jonathan managed to sputter out, looking at Argyle like he was from another planet. He did that a lot, always had, so it didn't really bug him.

Argyle was fine with being weird.  

“Hawkins Pizza! Gino wants me to start on Thursday, earlier if I can. They reallllllly need the help,” Argyle said with a disappointed shake of his head, taking another bite of broccoli and telling them the whole story. 

He had gone in on an impulse while he was waiting to pick up Robin and Steve from work. He had just wanted a slice, maybe to pick some up for dinner tonight so Joyce didn’t have to cook, but he had walked into a waking nightmare. Half baked mushy dough, tomato sauce that tasted like it came right out of a jar, and a cheese blend that had zero stringiness. 

They didn’t even have pineapple. It was a complete travesty.

The owner hadn’t appreciated his observations at first, even threatened to kick him out, but he had managed to swing the man around by offering to make him a real pizza. 

Twenty five minutes later Argyle had a job offer and a super nice new boss. Turns out the dude was way chill, just overwhelmed by being one of three restaurants left standing after the earthquake. But good pizza made everyone feel better. It was one of the reasons Argyle had loved being at Surfer Boy so much. 

“Y’all won’t be able to handle the sick ass pies I’m about to be slinging,” He said with a lazy shaka and a chuckle. 

Everyone was still looking at him, but not with as much confusion. They all congratulated him,  lowly going back to the conversations they had been having before. 

Well everyone except Jonathan, but that guy was always zonked out. 

“You’re staying?” Jonathan finally asked. 

“As long as its still cool for me to crash on your couch, my guy,” Argyle answered. Shoot. He probably should have asked that first before taking the job, but he had just been excited to get to start making pizzas again. Being in Hawkins wasn’t anything like Cali, and he had jumped at the chance for something just a little bit familiar. 

“Of course it is. Stay as long as you want,” Jonathan answered automatically, not missing a beat, “I just- I-“

Jonathan cut himself off with an irritated sigh, turning to stare down at his plate. Argyle let him have the moment, bopping his head along to the music playing in his head and happily spacing out. 

Jonny needed things like this, moments where he could debate whatever was going on inside. His best friend was ‘cerebral’ as his abuela would put it- he needed time in his head to find the right thing to say. 

Or he needed time to find the courage to say he wanted to say without fear. Either way, Argyle didn’t mind waiting. 

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to want to stay,” Jonathan mumbled out, still keeping his eyes on his plate and not his best friend, “I mean given how insane everything is,” 

It was insane. It was all insane.

Two weeks ago they had been hitting golfballs into old cars and talking about how Jonathan needed to get his shit together, and now they were sitting in the living room of an abandoned cabin halfway across the country, surrounded by people who had only taken ten days to feel like family to him. 

It was insane that Jonathan’s little sister could move stuff with her mind, and there was apparently an alternate dimension full of hell beasts that were determined to break into their world and destroy everything. It was insane that he had known nothing about the guy he swore was his best friend, and it was insane that Argyle still managed to find a way to love him through all of it. 

But sometimes insane was a good thing.

“Where else would I wanna be?” Argyle said instead with an easy grin, slinging an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and leaning into his best friend’s space. 

[spotsandsocks]

Something Worth Staying For

🥳Happy Birthday to the wonderful creative supportive @cowboy-buddie who makes this fandom so much fun for me. Love ya Kels Please accept this little gift, my attempt at an enemies to friends to lovers AU. 5 chapters 1 coming at you everyday (so I have time to finish the last chapter🤣)

Chapter 1 2.4K Read on AO3

Living in a small town wasn’t for everyone but Eddie liked it. When he and Chris had settled here he hadn’t been sure but slowly the place had gotten under his skin and now he was as good as a local. Well almost, Chim still called him cowboy sometimes, but Eddie had decided ignoring that was the best plan and it had mostly worked. Chim only called him that these days when he wanted to be particularly annoying. Not that he doesn’t love Chim, the man has become like his brother. In fact he’s built a small family for himself and Chris here. It turns out taking a job at a small town newspaper was the best idea he’s had in years. He’s never quite gotten over the surprise of his new boss, the paper’s editor waiting for him with his wife outside Eddie’s new front door on the day they arrived.

Bobby and Athena had been there from the start ready with a home cooked meal for their first night in town, helping them unpack, and essentially making him and Chris feel more welcome than Eddie had ever expected when he’d nervously said yes to a fresh start  and moved himself and his son halfway across the country after his divorce was finalized. 

Now he’s made a home here and has an extended family he loves dearly. It’s almost perfect. Except, he does get a little lonely sometimes, Chris is getting older and  when he’s busy and Eddie’s all alone in his house he sometimes wishes that he had someone to share his life with, he’d dated a few of the women in town but nothing had clicked. Not that he was especially bothered by the failure, he hadn’t actually really liked any of them but it would be nice to have someone special.

He’s been here almost three years now and it seems pretty unlikely that he’s going to find his dream partner, after all what are the chances of the  perfect person just turning up in Eagle Creek one day and being interested in a thirty year old single dad holding down a quiet job writing local news stories for a small town paper. 

“Eddie?”

Eddie looks up and takes a breath. 

Whatever he’d been expecting when Bobby said his name it wasn’t to see the man standing next to him. He’s tall, well built to say the least, with sandy hair which might have been blonde or brown depending on the light, and extremely blue eyes. There’s a mark of some kind over his left eye and he wonders if it’s a bruise or something more permanent. It doesn’t diminish the man’s good looks in fact in Eddie’s opinion it enhances them. Frankly he’s gorgeous. Eddie knows he finds men as attractive if not more attractive at times than women but he’s never particularly felt the urge to investigate where those thoughts could take him. He’s not a casual kind of guy and the trouble with gorgeous people is they so very often know it and in his personal (and relatively limited) experience that does very little for their personality. 

This  guy is so pretty he’s probably a complete jerk. 

Despite those warning bells as they  look at each other the stranger smiles and Eddie can’t help how his eyes flick down then back up again almost immediately, it's a nice smile. A little shy, almost sweet even. The guy isn’t giving off any particularly arrogant jackass vibes. Eddie wants to but he doesn’t let himself look again, turning his head to focus on Bobby instead.  Actually the new guy looks a lot like Bobby, maybe he’s his nephew or something, just visiting. 

Eddie returns his boss and friend’s smile, feeling strangely apprehensive for some reason. Maybe it’s because Bobby looks guilty. Eddie recognises the slightly shifty expression on the older man’s face. What has he done?

He finds out quickly.

“Eddie this is um, Buck. He’s uh…  he’s going to be working here.” Bobby won’t look at him and is rubbing his hand across his chin nervously. 

Well that’s unexpected. Eddie can’t help the sudden sharp furrow of surprise and suspicion on his brow. Bobby hadn’t mentioned anything about someone new. Do they really need someone new? Eddie hadn’t thought so in fact he’s mildly irritated by the news. Why hadn’t he been told? He looks at this ‘Buck’ person again with fresh eyes. Maybe he does look like a bit of a jerk after all. 

Jerk or not he’s still ridiculously good looking and Eddie can just imagine the stir someone who looks like Buck is going to cause in town. Nightmare, he can expect a stream of people asking him for the new guy at the paper’s number. Urgh... Just what he needs.

Bobby’s still talking, “so Buck is gonna be helping with some stuff, improvements I guess you could call it.”

Blue eyes sparkle and the man beams.  What kind of name is Buck anyway?   And really who needs to be that handsome, it’s just excessive. And wait did Eddie just hear Bobby say improvements? A sinking feeling hits him, oh no,  he didn’t actually do it did he? Bobby’s been threatening to do something about the computers since before Eddie arrived, surely he hasn’t finally done it has he?

The scowl on Eddie’s face deepens and he fails to notice the smile slipping from his new colleague’s face.

“Buck and his sister have just moved here, Maddie’s a nurse and Buck here is…” Bobby pauses and Eddie’s suspicions grow. Bobby can’t quite meet his eye. Yeah he has a bad feeling about this, there can only be one reason Bobby’s springing this on him now. Only one thing this guy is here to do. 

Still looking anywhere than at him, Bobby takes a breath and reveals Buck’s role  at the paper.

“Well Buck here, he’s well, he’s a bit of a computer whizz and kind of a social media consultant.” He says those three words quickly and moves on. “He’s going to upgrade our IT, get us online and run the “socials.” Bobby  glances  proudly at Buck for getting the word right. 

Eddie doesn’t register the responding shy and pleased smile from the younger man all he notices are the air quotes dropping in around ‘Socials’ 

The word is unfamiliar and unwelcome on Bobby's lips. Frankly he feels a little betrayed, why hasn’t he been told? He bets Karen knew  which means Hen knew and that means Chimney does as well. They’ve all probably been very  amused about how badly he’ll take it. He also thought Bobby felt the same way about the perils of the internet as he did. It’s not that he can’t use it. He has a smart phone, he can download apps just fine thank you and while it’s a running joke around here that Eddie doesn’t ‘do’ technology he’s not actually an idiot. If he wants to, he can use computers just fine, he’ll accept that the internet is vaguely useful and if he wanted to have ‘socials’ he would. He just doesn’t choose to because it stupid and pointless and you can’t really trust the internet,  no one's ever been able to convince him his phone isn’t listening to him.

Buck draws his attention back from Bobby when he speaks for the first time with what Eddie considers an unnecessarily smug quirk of his mouth,  “I’m here to drag you all into the 21st century.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you.” His voice sounds cold even to himself.

Despite glaring at new guy he catches Bobby's wince out of the corner of his eye. He knows he sounds positively hostile but he’s annoyed. The newest member of the team obviously recognises that too because the smile vanishes.

Eddie doesn’t feel bad for being unwelcoming. Not even a little bit.

Bobby sighs wearily, “This is why I didn’t tell you. You know we need to modernize. It’ll be good for us. We can reach more people, be faster, it’ll make things easier for everyone.”

Bobby pauses obviously hoping for something back. He doesn’t get it so he just shrugs, “It’s going to happen Eddie .”

“You’re the boss Bobby.” There that was neutral, mostly.

Eddie stands, avoiding eye contact with both men. “I’m going out to get lunch.” 

He doesn’t offer to get anything for anyone, which he knows is rude but he doesn’t care much right now..

Eddie lets the door behind him slam on his way out.

Bobby sighs dramatically next to him as  Buck keeps his expression as blank as he can; that did not go well. That went very badly indeed.

“That was actually ok, I was worried he’d take it worse.” 

Buck turns slowly to stare at his new boss a little incredulously. Bobby thinks that went well? Shit how bad does this Eddie guy get?

When they’d walked in Buck had been taken aback by the man sitting behind the desk. His dark hair and soft brown eyes had looked inviting for a moment. He’d smiled softly and something had tripped and fluttered in his chest. He was a damn attractive man and then when he’d started scowling at him well Buck’s always liked a challenge but he’s not stupid. He knows instant dislike when he sees it.

It’s too bad he would have liked to have made a friend. At least he has Maddie to keep him company.

“He’s not particularly friendly is he?” 

Bobby chuckles dryly,  “He is, once you get to know him. He’s a really great guy.  I think you too could be good friends.” Another sigh as Bobby looks towards the door,  “It’s my fault, I did surprise him. I’ve been putting off telling him about you. it’s just  he really does hate computers.”

Buck arches an eyebrow at the door the hot angry man had just walked out of.

“I can tell.”

“Whoah man! Mind my door.”

Chimney looks up from behind the counter where he’s just finished pouring a coffee. 

“What’s got you all twisty.”

Eddie glowers at him, “Nothing, just come for my lunch. Is that a crime?”

“Delightful mood I see?”  Karen’s voice floats over from where she’s working on her laptop at one of Chimney’s tables.

He turns, as expected she’s staring  at him, unimpressed. She fixes him with a penetrating stare which he avoids. He’s very aware he’s in a bad mood and she should know why,  after all everyone else has been told. 

He can’t help the snap in his voice, “So why aren’t you in the office to greet our new colleague.”

Karen’s eyebrows lift eloquently. He knows she knows but will she admit it?  God he’s annoyed. He doesn’t really know why he’s so upset either. Except maybe there was a moment when he looked into blue eyes that he’d felt something only to have it washed away by Bobby’s words and his rush of irritation.

Karen sips her latte coolly, “I’m a free spirit Diaz, I go wherever I want and right now I want to be here because I like it here, I get to see my wife and she brings me coffee and I get to eat Chimney’s pastries. 

She pauses and looks at him with far too much insight.

“So he’s here then.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Chim retreat.  

He knew, she knew! Everyone but him, his irritation rises again, he can just imagine it don’t tell Eddie, he’ll freak out! He’ll make a fuss.

He ignores the tiny voice inside him saying 'and were they wrong? You’re not exactly winning employee of the month right now are you?' He ignores that and  lets the comforting haze of indignation wash over him. 

“So you did know! Charming.” Karen’s admission really does nothing to improve his mood.

Karen rolls her eyes at  him. “Oooh you really are in a snit aren’t you? Poor guy can’t have upset you already. He’s not even been here a day.”

“And…” she says with a waggle of her finger “you can’t blame Bobby for putting it off. Every time he’s so much as mentioned going online you pull a face.” She nods at him, “Yeah that one.”

 He quickly wipes the expression away,  “and you sulk for at least a day.”

“I do not.”

Another voice joins in, “You do.”

Chimney’s contribution is as unwelcome as this ‘Buck’ back at his office is.

However Chimney is as resistant to his glaring as Karen is. 

“Ok so maybe I do a bit,” he admits it reluctantly “But we don’t need to go online and we certainly don’t need that guy.”

“I’ve heard he is very good at his job annnnnd…” Karen adds nonchalantly, getting somewhere close to the hidden heart of his discomfort  “I’ve seen his picture, online , “ he throws her yet another narrow eyed glare for that jibe “and if I wasn’t a happily married lesbian I’d say he’s hot. He’s going to be a popular boy round here!” 

She laughs at the noise he makes.

“He’s not that good looking” he lies because he can, “and I don’t have to like him.”

Karen stands up folding her laptop as she does. She looks more serious, teasing gone. 

“No you don’t but you do have to work with him. And the poor guy’s not done anything wrong.”

He hangs onto his resentment justified or not, he’s no longer so sure, and answers with a single surly word and sits down.

“Yet.” 

“Eddie,” Karen sighs his name, “You’re being unreasonable and you know it.”

“Perhaps I like being unreasonable.” He leans back in his chair and folds his arms then unfolds them because it looks too defensive and he doesn’t want to prove her right.

Karen shakes her head, “Go play nice with the new kid or Bobby will put you in time out.”

Eddie ignores her. He’s not sure why but this Buck guy is already under his skin. 

Karen moves towards the door, “I’m going to go meet him, you’ll be back soon right?” 

He mutters “Sure” and accepts the warning look he gets from his friend. “I’ll be polite, promise.”

He can be polite to this new guy, he is  a professional  after all and it’ll be fine. He probably won’t have  too much to do with him anyway. 

Eddie waits for his order and wonders how annoying can one guy be? 

[elliegoose]

Big mental health/life post, because i really wanna put this stuff down on the page and could use the feeling of being heard right about now.

in the summer because of some unfortunate stuff i moved halfway across the country to live with my parents. then some other stuff happened that ended up incidentally triggering some really extreme bipolar episodes--that's why i was in the psych ward a couple months ago and also why i took an unannounced hiatus from this blog for most of october--and ever since then i've been just... struggling kind of a lot.

i feel disconnected from my art, my sexuality, cooking, music, and most things that have been important to me. i don't feel the sense of home that i used to have out in texas. i'm anxious and down most of the time. i feel especially disconnected from the kink communities that used to be kind of the center of my online social life. this has been a particularly difficult emotional blow to endure and a particularly large reason why i've felt so awful.

in the past month, i've developed an inexplicable social anxiety that's horrible to deal with as someone who's normally very outgoing and who used to find socializing very easy. now, though, i'm often just filled with self-doubt and panic while trying to socialize with people, which is making it incredibly difficult to keep building the new friendships i've started to foster out here in my new city.

i'm just doing the best i can every day, attending my IOP program, applying the skills i've been learning there as diligently as possible, keeping up with my hobbies (for as disconnected as i feel from art i'm still doing quite a bit of it, and picking up the banjo has done so much to sustain what little of my mental health i still have), getting out into nature, going to a lot of fun events (drag shows, happy hours, full moon rituals, ttrpg/boardgame nights, furry meetups, folk musician meetups, etc.) and hanging out with the folks i meet there as often as i'm able even despite all my newfound social anxiety, but even with all that i'm just... persistently in emotional pain that i don't know how to effectively alleviate.

i know part of it is that i'm out of work, and i know having a job will give my life more structure, but i also know that's not the whole of what's happening here. i've been out of work before and it's not affected me this badly. it's also that i'm lonely, deeply unsure of myself after making some unwise decisions and having to face so many of my flaws, grappling with my disproportionate senses of shame, anxiety, and responsibility, yearning for more purpose and autonomy than i currently have, wanting to feel like i'm contributing to something larger than myself, and anxious after going through so much chaos and repeated disruption and loss.

i'm glad my IOP demands sobriety because it's been a struggle to not use alcohol as a crutch.

fucking... life. it's been a goddamn year for sure.

[anqelically-archived]

hi!! could you do rin itoshi with angst prompts 13 & 14??

wasn’t meant to be | rin itoshi x gn!reader

word count: 0.3k

content: no manga spoilers, angst

navigation | bllk masterlist | event

dreams are beacons of hope for those who have them. a story that’s desired to be real, dreams are what motivate people to move on. dreams, as different as they are depending on the person, make everyone strive to be something.

for something so hopeful, dreams shattered your relationship with rin itoshi.

you guys were in your last year of high school, a year that would control the path of your future career. rin, like he always planned, was going to pursue soccer.

on the other hand, you wanted to pursue your own dream. but not only was the college you were going to halfway across the country, but the job you’re aiming for would require you to be constantly moving around. thinking about it, your schedules would never align.

as the last months of the school year approached, the two of you began to fight more often. neither of you would drop your dreams for the other, so things just started to not click.

trying to make things work was fruitless because things just wouldn’t work.

weeks of screaming, crying, and or ignoring each other brought you to now. you sat on rin’s bed as he sat by his desk. the two have you been talking about your situation for a while, and both of you felt what the conversation was leading up to. there was no avoiding it, you noticed.

“i’m just tired,” you rested your head against your knees, “tired of it all. we keep fighting rin, but it’s getting us nowhere.”

“what are you suggesting?” he questioned in a monotone voice.

despite asking you, he knew what you were trying to convey. he thought the same thing as you. everything between you and him would only be a burden, and neither of you needed that.

“i was able to hold on for so long, but i’m finally done. this isn’t going to work, rin. we both know that. a-all this arguing and disagreements we have… they’re only hurting us.”

after your words, neither of you had the guts to look up from your laps. two whole years of happily being together, and your hopes for the future are the reason why everything is changing.

you loved rin, and rin loved you. but even so, the stars just couldn’t align for the two of you. it wasn’t meant to be.

note: angst?? here for it 100% i also couldn't think of a name so i rewatched like 2 eps of aot before thinking about it again 😭

please reblog! i’ll appreciate it <3

[natsuki208]

Paradis! A World without Titans - Character infos 🏫

Here’s a summary of the 104th Squad within my AOT Modern AU, hope you enjoy. (Spoiler free for my friend)

~

Eren Jaeger (15) - A teen boy who’s hot tempered but meaningful towards people he cares for. He lives a normal life from home to school, but he always seeks the thrill of adventure. But he won’t unless his friends are dragged along for the ride.

Mikasa Ackerman (15) - She’s strong as an ox, best student during gym classes, yet doesn’t know how to open up emotions to others. Mikasa’s been friends with Eren since they met as kids, and I think she’s starting to grow feelings for him.

Armin Arlert (15) - The childhood best friend of Eren before Mikasa. Very smart and is relied on by everyone at school. His parents are off working in another country so he’s currently living with his grandpa. A book nerd with no shame.

Jean Kirstein (15) - Has a temper like Eren yet he despises him most of the time. He sometimes comes off as an arrogant jerk but deep down cares for people. The captain of the school’s soccer team. Currently dating his old friend, Marco.

Marco Bodt (16) - An angel personified. This freckled boy is always kind and thoughtful and basically the voice of reason within his friend group. He has a part time job at the local library down town. Currently dating his old friend, Jean.

Connie Springer (15) - Even though he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, he’s fun to be around and can often be a prankster. Spends most of his free time playing video games, which results in him sleeping halfway through his classes.

Sasha Braus (16) - This fun loving girl comes from a country background; her family moved to the town a generation ago. She likes food a bit too much, whenever people see her, she always has some snack or meal in her hands. Hangs out with Connie.

Christa Lenz (15) - She comes across to most people as ‘the star pupil of the school’ with her well-mannered behaviour, but she’s really not the pure image they all believe. She’s in charge of the school dance club. Currently dating Ymir.

Ymir (17) - Not much is known about this sly, sarcastic girl, hence why she barely has people to hang out with (except Christa). She does often show a caring side, but she quickly brushes it off with more sarcasm. Currently dating Christa.

Reiner Braun (17) - The ‘big brother’ type of guy and aces at any physical activity, in and out of school. Strengths are soccer and giving advice to friends, his weakness? Dogs. Mainly the big ones. Childhood friends with Bertholdt.

Annie Leonhart (16) - Just like Mikasa, she’s a very skilful and athletic girl, but is a lot more shy and quiet so prefers spending time on her own. Although talks to Reiner and Bertholdt occasionally, only because she knows them more.

Bertholdt Hoover (16) - Unlike Reiner who’s an extrovert, Bertholdt is an introvert. Spends most of this time reading at home or talking with animals outside in the school gardens. Childhood friends with Reiner and has a secret crush on Annie.

[homosexuhauls]

Whether consciously or unconsciously, many women in heterosexual relationships put their careers on the back burner to enable their partners to advance.

By Kate Morgan, 22nd June 2023

When Kerry was in her 20s, she had a job in social work. She made enough money to both pay her expenses and also put some aside in a savings account. Her long-term partner was a graduate student who worked part time, and Kerry, as the primary earner, paid most of the bills. But when he graduated and got a job offer, things changed.

“He ended up getting a job halfway across the country,” says Chicago-based Kerry, now in her 30s. “I quit my job and moved with him. Even though I was really happy in my career and my life, I basically abandoned it for a place where I didn’t know anybody and couldn’t find a job.”

Over time, Kerry realised she’d fully prioritised her partner’s career over her own – to her detriment. She felt the whole move had set back her own career and earnings by several years.

Even though women outpace men in education, and, in the US, make up close to half the labour force, many women still share Kerry’s experience. Researchers for Deloitte’s Women @ Work 2023 report surveyed 5,000 women across 10 countries, 98% of whom were in heterosexual relationships. The data found that nearly 40% of respondents say their partner’s career takes precedence. They cited several reasons, ranging from financial and social factors to the burden of caretaking and household responsibilities.

But the biggest reason women in the Deloitte survey cited for prioritising their partner’s career over their own was that their male partners earned more money. That’s unsurprising, given that, worldwide, some data shows women still earn only 77 cents for every dollar a man makes.

“Naturally, there will be some individuals who say, ‘well, this person earns the most’,’” says London-based Emma Codd, the global diversity, equity and inclusion officer at Deloitte. “Particularly when times are tough, you may end up in a situation where the person that earns less says, ‘well, my career will take the backseat’, whether that’s a conscious or unconscious decision.”

Either way, that choice is rational, adds Pamela Stone, a professor of sociology at Hunter College in New York City, who co-authored the books Opting Out? Why Women Really Quit Careers and Head Home and Opting Back In: What Really Happens When Mothers Go Back to Work. Stone says many of the women she interviewed for the two books “saw a man going full speed ahead and prospering. And so, when it came to making their own internal decisions, they’d say things like ‘I knew he was going to be able to make so much more money than I could’”.

The choice becomes less emotional, says Stone, when it’s about dollars and cents. “It’s not about the women being visionless, or not being liberal, progressive, etcetera,” she says. “It’s about who has the better chance. If you’re a betting person, you’re going to bet on the man’s career being stronger, because there is gender discrimination in the market.”

But making that bet kicks off a vicious circle, says Codd, because women who deprioritise their own career are less likely to ever reach their true earning potential, or be able to match their partner’s income.

“The reality is it’d be great to see more women being the primary earner,” says Codd. “But if so many of these women are not prioritising their career, then the chances of becoming the primary earner in the family are likely to be reduced.”

But even if a woman’s income does begin to exceed her spouse’s, that’s still not a guarantee that her career will become the priority. In many cases cited in the Deloitte report, women who were the higher earners still put their jobs second to their partner’s. One in 10 women said they were the primary earner in their partnership, yet 20% of that group still felt pressured to prioritise the other’s career.

“That number was the bit that was stunning to us,” says Codd. “Whether there’s a cultural element that comes in to explain that… who knows.”

This may mean that women aren’t only prioritising their husbands’ careers because of money: there are social pressures and expectations at play, too.

In a multi-generational study, Stone and her colleagues interviewed more than 25,000 graduates of Harvard Business School. They found that although the “vast majority” of those women expected an egalitarian marriage where both careers were of equal importance, more than half of all the men surveyed, from Baby Boomers to millennials, expected their careers would take precedence.

The men expected to be the “breadwinner”, a term imbued with meaning well beyond being the person who makes more money. Research data suggests men’s mental well-being is tied to whether they make more money than their partner. A Pew Research Center survey showed that being the sole earner breeds anxiety, but stress levels also spiked when their wives’ income rose above 50% of the household total.

When men consider themselves breadwinners, some research shows they have less respect for their wives’ careers and are less flexible around them. And that, too, is a circle, says Stone, who notes that when a man devalues his wife’s career, it leaves little space for her to rise to meet or exceed his.

But male partners in a heterosexual relationship aren’t alone in perpetuating the cycle. Sometimes women play a part in devaluing their own careers; intentionally, to keep the peace in a relationship, or unintentionally, because the scales tip without them being fully aware it’s happening. In Kerry’s relationship, she says it became clear her partner was content with the uneven balance they’d fallen into, with her career taking the back seat. She recalls him telling her, “I like taking care of you”, a sentiment she knew was well-meaning, but that still made her chafe.

“I just didn't feel like the sacrifices I was making were appreciated as much as they should have been,” she says. “I don't think he ever fully understood.” Kerry says slipping into a traditionally accepted gender role, and pushing her own ambition aside, happened without her really noticing. Eventually though, she realized that wasn’t what she wanted, and the pair broke up.

“People fall into gender norms,” says Codd. “It can happen totally unconsciously.”

Experts say women also deprioritise their own careers because they are spinning so many other plates, especially regarding home and family responsibilities, which fall heavily to women. According to the Deloitte report, “Despite the fact that 88% of respondents work full time, nearly half of them have primary responsibility for domestic tasks such as cleaning or caring for dependents. Only around 10% say that these responsibilities fall to their partner.”

Simply, says Codd, they could be deprioritising their careers out of sheer fatigue. “Frankly, you're working full time, and then you're going home and doing a load of stuff in the evenings, and on weekends, and before you go to work,” she says. “The exhaustion, the burnout – all the things we know around mental health – you can imagine choice may be along the lines of, you know what, I don't have the energy. I don't have the time to dedicate to furthering my career.”

Even if they haven’t consciously decided to prioritise caretaking and other household responsibilities over their career, Codd says labour still primarily falls on women.

“Those responsibilities sometimes don't go away,” she says, “And they sometimes intrude into your working day. We all know that progressing in the workplace isn't just about turning up and doing your job. But if you're deprioritising your career versus someone else's, or you just know someone needs to do all this stuff at home, are you going to take that stretch opportunity? Chances are, you might not.”

[sugdenlovesdingle]

I'm so many days behind but here's Tarlos @flufftober day 8: Rainy Day

The power of a muddy dog (AO3)

---

“TK, I’m running late, can you take Buttercup out for a walk?” Owen asked, rushing around the house, trying to gather his stuff.

“Why? Just take him with you. I’m supposed to be resting, remember?” TK said, barely looking up from the mindless game he was playing on his phone. “I got shot.”

“You can take him on a quick walk around the block. Just let him do his business and you both can go back to napping on the sofa.”

TK sighed and sat up, trying not to wince at pull on his stitches. Normally he’d jump at the chance to get out of the house and away from his dad’s fussing, but the weather had been foul for days and getting soaked on a walk with the dog sounded even less appealing than being cooped up in the house all day.

“It’s raining.”

“Take an umbrella. Buttercup hates the rain too.” Owen said and patted his pockets to make sure he had everything. “I have a meeting with AFD brass and then I’m going to the station to see how things are going.”

“Sure.”

“Get some fresh air. The both of you.” Owen stressed. “And who knows, maybe you’ll run into that cop you won’t tell me anything about.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” TK protested. “He’s just… this guy I know…”

“That sits by your bedside in hospital after you get shot.”

“He’s just… nice… like that.”

“Uhuh. I saw the way he looked at you. I think it’s more than just being nice.”

“If there’s anything to tell, you’ll be the first to know, ok?” TK rolled his eyes. “Now go or you’ll be late for your meeting and they’ll shut the firehouse down and we’ll have to go back to New York.”

Owen narrowed his eyes at his son.

“Are you saying that would be a bad thing? And you want to stay here in Austin?”

“It would just suck for Paul and Marjan who moved halfway across the country for this job, that’s all.”

“Is it? Isn’t there another reason? Like a certain officer Reyes I think his name is?”

“You’re going to be late for your meeting.” TK reminded him, ducking his head, trying to hide the blush creeping up on his face.

“Yeah alright. Remember to take Buttercup out for a walk before we’ll have to surgically detach you both from that sofa.” Owen said and gave a sort of half wave before rushing out the door.

TK looked at Buttercup who was happily napping at his feet and then glanced out the window before checking his weather app.

“It looks like it’s not as bad now. I guess we should go now.” He told the dog who raised his head at the word go. “Yeah, yeah come on. We’re going. Just let me put on a jacket and find an umbrella maybe.”

Ten minutes later he stepped out the door with Buttercup who was absolutely delighted to go on a walk with him and didn’t care about the rain in the slightest.

“I thought you hated rain too?” he muttered while zipping his jacket up to his chin. The rain had let up for the time being, but the wind still got him. “Isn’t Texas supposed to be warm.”

His mood was starting to sour and he just kept walking with Buttercup, letting him decide where they were going, not really paying much attention to his surroundings.

They met a few other dogs on their walk and TK made small talk with the owners while Buttercup greeted his new friends.

“I usually see an older gentleman with him.” One lady commented and TK bit back a laugh picturing his father’s reaction to being called older.

“That’s my dad. He’s at work now. I have the day off so I get to go for a walk with this guy.” He patted Buttercup’s side.

The woman asked some more questions about Buttercup and well as him and his dad and TK realised he’d met the neighbourhood busybody.

“Well it was nice to meet you ma’am but we should get going so we don’t get stuck in the rain later. Come on Buttercup, let’s go.” He gave the woman a friendly smile as he walked away but rolled his eyes the second his back was turned.

“I guess they have neighbourhood gossip in Texas too.”

He walked through the neighbourhood with Buttercup for a while until he got to a little dog park and decided to take off his leash and let him run around.

“Go, have fun.” TK said when the dog just looked around. “Go play.”

Buttercup looked at him like he was crazy.

“Go sniff something. Go crazy. Play! Come on!” TK patted his thighs to get the dog excited, without much success. “What? Are you tired already? We haven’t walked that long.” He grabbed a nearby stick. “Come on. Do you want a stick? Do you? Come on!”

That got Buttercup a little more excited and he actually chased the stick when TK threw it.

Only he didn’t bring it back and just laid down in a puddle with it to chew on it.

“No, no, no, don’t do that! Bad dog! Dad will have a heart attack if you come home all wet and muddy! I’m not giving you a bath!”

Buttercup wasn’t particularly interested in what TK was saying, or the stick for that matter, but decided rolling around in a puddle of mud was a lot more fun.

TK however was less happy.

“No Buttercup! Bad dog!” He yelled. “Get up! Come here!”

Buttercup got up from his puddle, had a little shake, and flopped back down for a round two.

“No, no, no! Come here! Come we’re going home!” TK tried but Buttercup was enjoying his  mud bath too much to pay attention to him. “Do you want to go home? We’ll go eat. Food. Do you want food? Or do you want to go see dad? At the firehouse?”

He knew walking into the firehouse with a wet and muddy dog would probably not win him any popularity contests but he was willing to try anything to get Buttercup out of his puddle.

“Come on, we’ll go see dad. We’ll go see Owen. And Marjan. She’ll give you food.” He patted his hip, wishing he’d had put some of Buttercup’s treats in his pocket. “Come on, we’ll get food. Treats!”

That seemed to finally get Buttercup’s attention.

“Yes! Treats! Come on!”

Buttercup got up from his puddle and happily trotted over to TK, sniffing his pockets when he clipped the leash back onto his collar.

“No, I don’t have them on me, but we’ll get some at home, ok? Home.”

Buttercup gave him a disappointed snort but followed him when he started walking.

Only, TK realised, he didn’t know Austin as well as he thought he did and he had absolutely no idea where he was or how to get back home or the firehouse.

“Thank god for modern technology huh.” He said to Buttercup as he pulled out his phone and opened Google maps. Only Google was no help and all he got was an error message. “Right. Plan B it is then.” He said and looked up an Austin city map.

He found the firehouse but nothing in the area that even remotely looked like the dog park they were currently at. And the map didn’t show the entire city, just the centre. He knew for a fact the house his dad had bought was in one of the suburbs.

“Ok. So that’s no help.” He looked around, trying to remember which way they’d come from. “Let’s just go back that way. We’ll recognise the way when we see it.”

He started walking, looking around for something to show him which way to go.

“I think we came from here… and then if we go left there we should get back to the road near the bus station.” He said to Buttercup who was just sniffing a patch of grass.

After walking a few minutes he felt a drop of rain on his face.

“No… please… no rain.” He muttered and looked up at the sky as if that would make it stop raining.

Thankfully his sense of direction wasn’t a complete lost cause and he did find a bus stop. Even if it wasn’t the station he’d planned to find, it had a map and a little shelter to get out of the rain.

It was starting to rain harder and he and Buttercup ran the final part to the shelter.

He sat down on the bench and took a few minutes to catch his breath before pulling out his phone again and trying Google again. Still without any luck.

He debated calling a taxi and just letting it drop them off at home, but then he noticed the state Buttercup was in, and he figured if Austin taxi drivers were anything like the ones in New York, none of them would take them.

He sighed and pulled up his dad’s contact details, but just as he was about to hit call, a police cruiser pulled over.

He frowned but his heart did a little funny thing when the driver got out and he saw who it was.

“Hey, do you need a lift anywhere?” Carlos asked him. “Buses in Austin aren’t the most reliable.”

“Oh uh I wasn’t really waiting for the bus… I just wanted to get out of the rain.”

“You can do that in my car.”

“Is that even allowed? Aren’t you supposed to arrest bad guys?”

Carlos smiled.

“I think the city of Austin will be alright for a while. There are other cops to arrest the bad guys.” He replied. “And besides, my job is to serve and protect the community. You are a part of that community… so let me provide a service to you and give you a ride.”

“Ok… but I have this guy with me.” TK nodded at Buttercup. “He’s taken a mud bath. He’ll get your car dirty.”

Carlos shrugged.

“I don’t care. I don’t have to clean it myself anyway.”

“Really?”

Carlos hesitated for a moment.

“No. But I can just pay one of my little cousins a few bucks to do it for me.”

TK laughed.

“Alright… if you’re sure…”

“Positive.” Carlos opened the backdoor for Buttercup and the passenger’s side for TK and waited for them to get in before getting back behind the wheel himself.

“Thanks…” TK said, looking at his hands. “We uh… got a little lost.” He admitted. “Or a lot.”

Carlos gave him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“It’s fine. I just feel stupid for not paying more attention where I was going. I’m usually pretty good about finding my way. But… New York is easier to navigate than Austin.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. At least Manhattan is. Where we lived. The whole thing is on a grid and you can just count the streets.”

Carlos nodded.

“I’ve never even really left Austin.” He admitted. “My parents took me on a trip to Branson once when I was little… but I don’t remember much of it.”

“Up until a few months ago I’d never really left New York either. But I don’t recommend moving across the country. It’s the worst.” TK complained. “Though the people I’ve met here are pretty great.” He told Carlos who quickly smiled at him and made his heart do that funny thing again.

“There is a car wash near here with a doggy wash station… if you want to get him cleaned up before you go home.”

“Uh yeah that’s probably a good idea. My dad’s white minimalist interior doesn’t really mix with muddy paws.” He glanced at Buttercup in the backseat. “You’re a menace.”

Carlos laughed and drove them to the doggy wash.

“It’s coin operated but I know the owner. Just wait here, I’ll be right back.”

TK nodded but decided to get Buttercup out of the car while he waited.

“You’re going to be a good boy now alright? Carlos is going through all this trouble for us… and we like Carlos. I like Carlos.” He said, the last part more to himself than the dog.

“Alright, I’ve got a key and we can use the station and all of the supplies.” Carlos said when he returned and TK hoped he hadn’t overheard his conversation with Buttercup.

“How did you manage that?” he asked, trying to get Carlos’ attention away from anything he might have heard.

“Just… told a little white lie. I told the owner I was helping someone who had found a stray dog and that we wanted to get it cleaned up before taking it to a vet to get checked out.”

“Officer, you just lied to a member of the public.” TK teased.

“The owner is a friend of my family, it’s fine” Carlos waved his comment away. “And it’s for a good cause.”

The two men smiled at each other for a moment, letting Carlos’ words hang between them.

“So… uh… how do we get this monster clean?” TK asked him.

“Right. Yeah. Uh… follow me.”

With Carlos’ help he managed to get Buttercup in the doggy wash station and they both laughed at the moody glares the dog was giving them over the edge of the tub.

“This shampoo is nicer than my own.” TK commented, smelling the shampoo before squirting some onto his hands and lathering Buttercup up. “You’re going to smell nicer than me.” He told Buttercup.

“I don’t know, you smell pretty nice to me.” Carlos told him and TK decided the man’s smile was probably going to kill him sooner or later.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” He mumbled, suddenly shy.

“After a full work day? I doubt that. But thanks for saying it.”

They got Buttercup shampooed, conditioned, and even blow dried and by the end of it he seemed to actually enjoy the pampering session.

“Don’t get used to it, buddy.” TK told him. “We’re not doing this every week.”

“I don’t know, I could help you out if you wanted to make it a regular thing. Though I probably couldn’t get away with using the same story I just told the owner.”

TK shook his head.

“It’s ok. My dad can wash him at home. Or at the station.”

Disappointment seemed to flicker over Carlos’ face but he quickly hid it.

“Alright, do you want me to drop you off at home now or somewhere else?”

“Yeah… home sounds good. I’d say just drop off somewhere close… but I have no idea where we are and modern technology keeps failing me today.” TK said, patting the pocket that held his phone.

They loaded Buttercup back up in the car, after Carlos had put down a few towels for him on the backseat so he wouldn’t dirty himself up again, and drove to TK and Owen’s house.

It turned out to only be a short drive and TK and Buttercup hadn’t wandered off too far from home.

“Thanks… for everything.” TK said after Carlos had dropped them off and he’d released Buttercup into the house. “Do you want to come in?”

“I can’t… I’m still on the clock and I don’t finish until nine.” Carlos said apologetically. “But… I have a few days off starting Monday… maybe we could get together then? Grab a bite to eat? I could cook or we could go out somewhere.” He was starting to ramble and TK smiled and put a hand on his cheek.

“You’re sweet.” He said and kissed him.

“Is that a you’re sweet but no thanks or…”

“It’s a you’re sweet and I’d like that a lot. How about Tuesday?”

Carlos beamed.

“Tuesday sounds great. Around 8? My place?” he asked and TK nodded.

“Sounds good. I’ll be there.” he replied and kissed him again. Because he wanted to. And because he could. “Though maybe I should come pick you up. Just to make sure you won’t get lost again.”

[christian-oc-tournament]

Riser, muahahahaha, Riser propaganda.

From the author:

Smarmy, beautiful, charming, philandering, violent, and bloodthirsty, it's a good thing for the world that Max keeps a short leash on his brother Riser Way. He's a killer who likes his job, and yet... he has his own code of honor. As Life and Situations and Multiple Universes keep throwing him together with tiny kids in need, he rises to the occasion each time, taking in waifs and taking care of them. He goes to the bars and the nightclubs to find a different woman every night, but when he does get married, he Means It. He is not above stealing a kiss before selling his life to defend the woman.

He went still for half a second and then his head fell one way and his body the other and she looked in blank shock up into the face of a ravishingly handsome blond, his sword slickened red. “How about a kiss for luck, pretty lady, and then don’t move, aye?” he said with a roguish wink, and leaned in briefly. But she scarcely had time to draw in an outraged terrified breath before he pulled away and turned his back to her, his sword flickering with the speed and majesty of lightning as he held at bay any Wolves who dared come near.

He even loves his brothers, at least a little bit.

Not long after, Riser came up and plopped down beside Misty on the six-inch-wide arm of the bench, chewing on a piece of cheesecake he held in his hand, no plate or utensils in sight. Misty eyed him suspiciously and scooted down the bench, reclaiming her personal space; Riser didn’t appear to notice. “Dreadful, isn’t it?” he said brightly. Misty didn’t answer; further down the bench, Cary just grunted. Riser, undeterred, continued. “You know that magnolia if you go out the door past the vending machines?” In the face of their continuing silence, he bulldozed ahead. “Well, last I saw, the twins were climbing it and trying to leap from the branches onto the roof.” Cary jerked up straight, eyes wide and plate slipping. Misty dropped her fork and reached out to steady his plate, chewing her meal and glancing between the brothers. “They’ll break their damn fool necks!” Cary snapped, popping up as if someone had spring-loaded his butt. Riser nodded affably, shoving the rest of his cheesecake in his mouth and wiping his hands on his pants. “Egzhackly,” he said thickly, and swallowed. “So I came to find you, since Maxie is busy.”

Anyway he's a fan favorite and for good reason. ^_^

And propaganda from a reader, for a specific version of Riser from a specific 'verse:

Riser is, no doubt about it, a thug. And he fully embraces the thug lifestyle. Leather-jacket biker, gang member, will 100% kill you if given a good reason, rough and rowdy, got a dirty mouth that could make a sailor blush—this man is a thug. You better watch out if you’re a) a Wolfrider or b) a trafficker. (Those are his primary targets.) But Nikki, a half-feral Indian girl who stole from his brother’s car shop, barreled into his life and completely upended it in the best way possible. Riser is still a thug, but now he’s got a lot of Character Development™️ under his belt. Nikki really drew the kindness out of him that was waiting to come to the surface.

This man was empty for a long time—searching for fulfillment in one-night pleasures and the rush of going on raids. However, he’s become a real family man now and relentlessly loves his kids and his wife. He moved halfway across the country to bring Nikki home to the Crow reservation, rescued her siblings from an abusive aunt, and gave Billie (his now-wife) the selfless love she so desperately needed. He’s grown a lot over the course of this story and he’s still got more to go, and I can’t wait to see it.

Other things I love about Riser: he will not hesitate to be a dad to any kid in his sights, both in how he will show them affection and how he won’t put up with any crap they pull. He’s got a dry sense of humor. He will hunt down anyone who hurts or traffics kids, and he WILL murder them for it. He loves his brothers to death and follows Max’s (his oldest brother and father-figure) word like it’s the law. (And to him, it is.) He adores his wife and treats her with so much respect and love.

Riser is in the main Sons of the Star series too, but he really shines in Annaáuchiwee, and I love him so much. He deserves your vote.

(And if you've read all the way to bottom of this, have a cookie. You deserve it.)

.

[obsolescent]

Southern Charm - Chapter One

Pairing: Ethan Winters x GN!Reader

Summary: You begin working at a new company, meeting the coworker you’ll work with the most. He’s attracted to your southern charm and can’t help the feelings that rise. From the accent to the way you move, it captivates him. How much longer can he stay quiet about the blossoming infatuation he has for you? The person before Mia.

Author's Note: The first chapter of the winning story for my 100 followers celebration! So the first chapter is just setting things up, it takes a long time to get to LA from the south, lol. Not that much excitement going on yet but you do speak to Ethan some. Also, I am starting to add tags to the ends of my writings, so if you would like to be tagged (or removed from the tags) let me know. Enjoy!

Content Warnings: Cultural differences, mentions of anxiety, will update for future chapters.

Cross-Posted to Ao3

Systems Engineering has been described as an integrative field of engineering management that centers around how to design and manage complex systems over their cycles of life. That’s quite the mouthful. Thank the Lord that is not your career field. Your head spins just thinking about your soon-to-be-coworker’s job description. A computer science degree is what you have, filling in the role for their database administrator. 

You had seen the job opening and applied, amongst countless others, not thinking much of it. To your surprise, your application was accepted and after the initial screening of the hiring process you were congratulated on being selected for the job. You’re now relocating to California for the position, leaving your hometown in the south for a fresh start across the country. You always joked to your friends that if you went west of the Mississippi River you would be leaving your soul behind.

Crossing into the city limits of Amarillo, Texas, you feel something ebbing away after each mile that’s put between you and your hometown. You try not to think too much about the ache in your bones, already feeling the waning of your resolve. You stop in the city for the night to rest. You wanted to tackle the trip in under a few days, having driven around halfway now, you figure it’s a good stopping point for the night. You find a reasonably priced inn for the night. The place is astonishingly unique, something you hadn’t seen before.

Arriving at your room, you brought in only the essentials: items for showering, skincare, and a change of clothes. You make your way to the bathroom, wanting to wash the day away after being confined to your car for so long. You only stopped to stretch your legs and to grab a bite to eat, but the soothing warmth of the shower beckoned you, soothing some of those pangs in your heart. You towel off and slip on your usual pajamas, sliding into the sheets of the bed.

You dig through your bag you left beside the bed, pulling out and plugging your phone into its charger, setting an early alarm to tackle the remainder of the trip. You ignore the messages from friends and loved ones, opting to open the one from your new coworker. You had been given his information during the onboarding process, having completed the majority of it before arriving at the physical location. Since you’ll be working closely with him, it was wise to get to know him beforehand, also reducing some anxiety you had over it all.

“Hey. Safe travels, looking forward to meeting you in person.

Hope the drive’s been OK.”

You smile at the message, typing your response.

“Thank you, Ethan, I appreciate that. 

Reckon the drive hasn’t been too bad so far. 

I’m fixin’ to go to bed, but I’m looking forward to meeting you too.”

You do a quick once over on your message before sending, not too worried about your accent showing through your typing. Already feeling at ease with speaking to him like you normally would. Not long afterwards you receive his reply. It’s still pretty early for him, so you’re not surprised he’s awake.

“That’s great, I’m glad.

And you’re welcome. 

Goodnight, get plenty of rest.”

He’s been nothing but friendly, something you had been worried about when preparing to move out of the region. Hearing from others experiences outside of the southern United States, it’s a cultural shock at how others can be. Not saying everyone is like that, you’re not one to stereotype, but many aren’t as warm as they are down in the south. You’ll definitely have to do some adapting once arriving.

You tell him goodnight as well, before setting your phone to ‘Do Not Disturb,’ laying it down on the nightstand. You reach over and flick the switch to the lamp, cutting out the lights. Settling into the covers, you soon drift off, the sounds of the air conditioning lulling you to sleep.

The alarm pierces through your turbulent dreams, a distorted chaos of faces and scenery from your hometown, swirling into a tornado of unease and remorse. Jolted awake by the blare, you reach for and toggle the button on the side of your phone to snooze the sound for another ten minutes. Sinking into the sheets again, you blink the sleep away, and when that doesn’t work, you rub your eyes until your vision spots.

Staring at the ceiling, you take deep breaths to steady the beat of your heart, swallowing down the anxiety that threatens to spill out. Removing the sheets from your body, you get out of bed and prepare for the next half of the trip. Pulling on the clothes you had brought in the night before, you gather your belongings and head to the lobby to check out.

You head out to the parking lot and pack your luggage into your car, settling into the driver’s seat. ‘6 AM, doing good on time. Could be in Claremont by 9 PM.’ You had picked a place to rent outside of LA, knowing it would be cheaper and less hectic. Though, even the prices for a two bedroom, one bath apartment in Claremont, almost an hour away from the bustle of the large city, had your eyes almost popping out of your head. Fortunately for you, your salary increase at this new job would be more than enough to pay for rent while having excess left.

Disregarding the additional messages you’ve received from others, you text your coworker to update him on your current status and the estimated time you’ll arrive in the city, before leaving the hotel’s grounds and continuing on, toward your new beginning and hopefully brighter days.

Tags: @caramlizedtomatoes, @dwkfan, @emilzke, @neondogs, @roseglazedlens, @xxacademy

[nico-di-genova]

I Wanna Feel You

Summary: She’s close enough that she could bite at his neck, the exposed parts of it not hidden by the hood of his hoodie. There’s already a hickey there from last night, blooming purple against his skin. It shouldn’t be there. Which means Jaime has asked Khaji not to heal it. The thought does something to Jenny.

She wants to leave more.

Jenny comes home to find Jaime already sitting on her couch. It’s the same place she’s found him for a week now, bent over his laptop, headphones on and turned up loud enough that she can hear the muffled sound of the Power Rangers theme song. He doesn’t react when she comes in, too busy scrolling through job listings with a furrowed brow. He’s worrying at his bottom lip, biting it with enough force that she knows he’s probably already tasted his own blood today. It hardly matters, since Khaji Da can heal the cracked and split skin in two seconds flat.

Stepping out of her heels and setting her bag down on the entryway table, she keeps one eye on him as she moves toward the kitchen. Judging from his messy hair, rumpled hoodie, and basketball shorts Jenny knows he’s probably still in the same clothes he woke up in. His wardrobe is limited these days, seeing as most of his belongings are little more than charred ash, but Jenny knows it’s not because he didn’t have another outfit here. He’s probably been sat in front of the laptop all day, filling out application after application and hoping for just one of the companies to call him back. In the past three months he has put in hundreds of job applications, been offered only four interviews, and reworked his resume until Jenny herself probably would have hired him – she had in fact offered him a job as a legal aide in Kord’s offices, but Jaime had turned her down. He had no interest in working for the company that had nearly killed him. Plus, the receptionist at the front desk still wouldn’t pronounce his name correctly, which was the final point he always delivered when politely declining Jenny’s offer.

Jenny had put the bitch into sensitivity training, not firing her only because Jaime asked her not to.

He won’t accept a job from her, but Jenny can at least give him her couch and the space to work without feeling like he has the world resting upon his shoulders. It’s not like Jenny was using the space much anyway, before Jaime she would find any reason to be away from Palmera. Gala’s, charity events halfway across the world, volunteering for months on end in other countries, sleeping in other people’s beds – she actively avoided her own home. Now, when she enters it and finds Jaime, or one of his hoodies that he’d left thrown over the barstools in the kitchen, the space feels a little less empty.

Read More

[here4kpopfics]

hi bubba!!! congrats on your huge milestone aaaah well fucking deserved omg 😩😩😩

i have a lil request for you hehehehe: how about brothers best friend au + member of your choice and this lovely prompt: "If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you."

i’m sure you can come up with something!! hehe good luck my love 💘💘💘

my beautiful Lati, I can only apologize for this. 💀 Thank you for always being so amazing and supportive, especially when I started writing again, I love you bby. 😘

also shoutout to @daimyosjeon for betaing this nonsense bc I just keyboard smashed my way through it. sorry for not warning you about the filth 🙈

Masterlist | AskBox | Coffee?

hobi x reader | smut, fluff if you squint? | a nice little 1,235 words | 18+ | Jimin's a menace, wrap before tap

You’ve made a lot of bad decisions growing up. Like, a lot. From bad friend groups to shit relationships, picking a useless degree over one you actually wanted to moving halfway across the country for a job you never wanted in the first place. 

The worst decision you’ve ever made is the one you’re currently making. 

“Fuck, hurry up, Hobi. He’ll be back soon.” Your voice rasps, feeling sore after just having your brother’s best friend’s cock recklessly rammed down your throat. 

“Relax, y/n. He’ll be out for another few hours. Let me take my time with you.” His lips resume their work against your skin, nipping and licking at random spots that can be covered by clothes, lightly kissing on spots that can’t. Like your neck, which is driving you insane. 

You don’t remember when you started fucking your brother’s friend. If it was after a party, or just when he came over one day to hang out with both of you at your apartment and things just spun out of control from there. 

All you know is this is a horrible decision, and his hips and dick are like fucking magic. But goddamn do you love the way he has you pinned against the wall in your hallway, hands gripping your thighs as your legs wrap around his waist and both of you are half naked. 

“I don’t want you to take your time, ” your fingers tug at his hair that he’s been growing out for reasons he won’t say, and force him to look at you. “I want you to fuck me until I forget who you are.” 

“I can do both.” He gives you that stupid grin that you’re afraid to say you adore. You push the thought out of your mind, and bring his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You barely feel one of his hands leave your thigh to shove his underwear down and reach between you two to line himself up with your entrance and push inside without hesitation. 

You pull away from his lips, dropping your head against the wall at the perfect stretch, “fuck, your cock feels so fucking good.”

His chuckle vibrates against your skin as he pulls his hips away slightly, just to grab the back of your knees and open your legs further. A part of you feels like you should be terrified of him dropping you, but you know he’d never.

“God, baby. Look at how well you take it.” He grunts, his gaze stuck on the way his cock pumps in and out of you. “So fucking wet, just slides right in.” He looks up to see you watching as well, your brows furrowed and your pussy clenching every time he thrusts into you. 

“How long were you ready for me today, hmm? Was it when I came over or since last night’s phone call?” You whine, trying to forget the night before where he had you on facetime and made you finger yourself until you were squirting. You almost blacked out after, hanging up immediately when you heard your brother come home. 

“Shut up.” You bring his lips back to yours, but you can feel the grin forming, teeth hitting yours as he brings you to your bed. 

“Good lord, every time it just gets better.” Hoseok laughs as he collapses next to you on your bed. You smirk, still trying to regain the ability to do anything. You’re going to be grossly sore tomorrow. 

“What are you doing?” You question when he cuddles one of your pillows under his head. “Absolutely not. Get up and get your clothes off the floor.” 

“Aish, where’s the romance these days?” He grumbles. Sitting back up, you throw the pillow at his back and laugh. 

“We fuck, Hobi. And we tell no one. That’s it.” 

He says nothing, walking out of your room and gathering not only his clothes off the floor, but yours as well.

“I, for once, think your brother would be cool with us.” The teasing tone he gives makes you scowl. You lean against your headboard, watching him put your clothes in your hamper and his on the bed. 

“We both know Yoongi would not only kill you, but me as well, if he finds out his best friend was fucking his little sister.” 

He mumbles in agreement, walking into your bathroom to shower. You lay back down, your bed sheet covering your naked body.

You get all of three minutes to yourself before your bedroom door is flung open. 

“You will not believe who I ran into toda-ahh! Sorry! Sorry! Holy fuck, I’m sorry!” Your best friend throws his hands up to cover his eyes, turning his back to you. 

“Jimin! What the fuck? Do you not understand knocking?!?!” You clutch the bed sheet to your chest, sitting up in anger. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were gonna be post-bang!” He turns back around when he thinks it’s safe, glancing over to the pile of clothes and the bathroom where the sound of the shower turns off. “Who, uh, who is it by the way? Is it that one hunk from statistics? Because hell yes, I’d be lying in bed post-bang like that too.”

“Shut up, Jimin. Please leave.” 

“Boo, you suck.”

“Just go awa—

“Who are you talking to?” Hoseok opens the bathroom door, clad only in a towel loosely hanging around his hips. If Jimin wasn’t here, there'd be a round two within seconds. 

You look back at your best friend, whose mouth is wide open in shock, a giant grin quickly taking over it.

“You are not banging Yoongi’s best friend! Does he know? Oh my god, when he finds out he’s going to kill you both.” 

You quickly jump out of bed, keeping the blanket wrapped around you as you charge towards Jimin, pressing him against the wall. 

“You’ll be dead too, Jimin. Because I swear to fucking god, if you tell anyone about this, I will kill you myself.” You glare daggers at him, and he nods quickly.

“Understood. There’s nothing going on between you two.” You nod, turning back to grab some new clothes. 

“She’s so threatening, isn’t she? It’s really kind of a turn on.” Hoseok laughs, bending down quickly to avoid the object you chuck across the room.

“Hoseok. Get dressed and leave before Yoongi gets back. Jimin, wait in the living room, I'm gonna shower really quick.” Jimin nods, backing out of your room with a smug grin. 

“I’ll leave while you’re in the shower.” He speaks a little softer, approaching you from behind. “But I’ll see you again soon, right?” His whispers meet your ear, soft lips kissing the space just behind them as his hands find your hips and bring them flush against his. 

“Yeah…but we have to be more careful. Yeah, that was just Jimin. But what if next time we’re not lucky and it’s Yoongi?” Your head leans back against his chest as he buries his face in your neck. 

“We’ll be smarter, baby. I promise. I’ll text you, okay?” 

“Okay.” He lets go of you, letting you walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. He quickly gets dressed, leaves you a little note on your pillow and leaves after saying bye to Jimin on the couch.

You take extra long in the shower to purposefully avoid Jimin’s questions. 

heh....heh....sorry? you're welcome? idk i love you 💜

[spreadyovrwings]

64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French 'compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it's more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: smut! soft sub/dom dynamics, pegging, a vague understanding of electronics, more smut, this is a sordid chapter lads

A/N: and here we have the penultimate chapter! have fun! let me know what you think!

//

Chapter 12

“I knew I liked you for a reason.”

John looked up.

“Mm? What’s that?”

He’d been sitting in the middle of your living room floor for hours now, cross-legged on a cushion, halfway between the sofa and the telly.

John’s work was spread out across your coffee table, a metal jigsaw puzzle that only he knew how to solve. There was a small wooden box, speaker cones, and a brick-sized 9 volt battery that you’d almost mistaken for an actual brick when you came in.

Not so long ago, this would have been a novel sight, but John was now as much a fixture of your home as the furniture. He spent most nights at yours now, and neither of you could’ve been any happier.

Smiling to yourself, you turned the page of your book, letting the fine edge of the paper slide against the pad of your thumb so that it creaked gently.

“Yeah. You’re a cheap date.”

“There’s nothing cheap about me, sweetheart.”

“‘ow long ‘ave you owned that shirt?”

“Since I was-”

“Yeah?”

“Since I was fifteen.”

“There it is.”

John had come up earlier than you, while you were still closing up. He offered to help, like he always did, but you just smiled and waved him on to your flat with a tired smile and the promise that you’d be up soon.

When you got in, just twenty minutes later, John was kneeling on the carpet, pulling what looked like the guts of a car or a computer from his bag. How he’d managed to get it all in the ridiculous basket on the front of his borrowed bike, you’d never know.

Now he was rearranging these frayed wires and twisted scraps of metal into a specific shape, one he’d made a thousand times before.

John’s hands moved with certainty, his gaze focused and keen. He clearly knew what he was doing, even though you couldn’t even begin to interpret these abstract shapes into something solid and real.

“So the dumpster divin’, that’s a regular thing?”

You’d caught him at it the other day. You’d gone out into the alley to meet the delivery driver and found John with his head in the skip, his long legs kicking into the air, just minutes before his shift began.

When you called his name, John lost his balance and he had to shoot out a hand to grab the side of the skip. When he finally lifted his head your way, he grinned and triumphantly held up a bunch of wires attached to a circuit board, like he was lifting the World Cup.

“People throw away tons of good stuff. You never know what you might find, if you know where to look.”

“And that’s good stuff, is it?”

“I know it doesn’t look like much now but these are actually pretty good finds. Parts can be expensive. If someone throws away an old radio or a good size battery, you can do tons with it.”

You cocked your head to the side, frowning at the mess on your table.

“And you’re makin’… Modern art?”

John smiled.

“I’m making an amp.”

“For fun or to use?”

“Both. It’s just to practise with when I’m away from the studio but if it sounds good enough, I might bring it to rehearsals. I can’t really afford to buy one right now.”

“So you decided to make one.” You reached forward and cupped his cheek, tilting his face up to yours so that you could kiss his forehead. “You’re so clever, John.”

John hummed, his eyes sliding closed as you kissed his nose, then the corner of his mouth, your thumb sweeping across his cheek.

“Yeah, well, don’t ask me where any countries are.”

He tilted his head back further, asking for a proper kiss, and grinned when he got his wish.

John scooped up his project and shuffled nearer so that you could see what he was working on.

“Here, look.”

It was only small, completely portable and light enough to be carried with one hand, though he kept both on the little box to keep it safe. John had retro-fitted the circuit board and wiring he’d foraged into a tiny cabinet, then installed two speakers, a quarter-inch input jack and a volume knob.

“I think I’m gonna take that off though,” John grinned. “It sounds better turned all the way up.”

The amp brought out his two sides: the studious, meticulous engineer, and the long-haired rocker looking for a good time. You loved them both, you loved all of him.

“It's very cool, John. Have you always been this good with your ‘ands? Bet the girls were all clamouring over you at school.”

You’d meant it as a joke but John blew out a long breath like a punctured tire.

“God, no. No, never been very clever there either. Didn’t think I’d ever work up the courage to ask you out.”

You snorted.

“Neither did I. Thought I was seeing signs that weren’t there after a while. Half the time, I was sure it was just me.”

John’s hands stilled. He looked up from his work, his expression dawn into such a look of amazement and bewilderment that you had to laugh.

“What!”

“You’re joking. The amount of times I almost died because I thought I’d said something daft or put you off or embarrassed myself in front of you, love, I- I liked you so much. I was an idiot around you.”

“You weren’t!”

“I am! You make me feel…”

He couldn’t seem to find the words. Instead, John put down his project and moved to kneel on the floor between your parted legs.

Cheeks burning, you fought to keep your gaze steady as John took your hand and slipped it up his chest. His rings were cold against your skin, a reminder of your last night together, when you’d felt them pressed against a more sensitive part of you before John thought to pull them off with his teeth.

He pressed his palm against the back of your hand, flattening it over his pounding heart. Steady and reliable, just like the rest of him.

You let the rest of your noisy, ever-changing world melt away and honed in on the firm, strong thump thump thump of John’s heart, feeling it beat just for you.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you asked softly, not wanting to break the sudden fragile stillness.

John shrugged.

“I didn’t know if you liked me too.”

“Oh, give over. I know Mickey told you. And Gladys.”

“And Sandra.”

“Sandra? From next door, Sandra?”

“Yeah.”

“What does she know about anythin’?”

“She popped her head out the door the morning after I had dinner at yours. Apparently, you asked her a million questions. Were you worried about what to make me?”

“No…”

You poked his cheek, trying in vain to make his self-satisfied smile disappear. But John just kept on beaming.

“You were nervous, weren’t you. You wanted to impress me so badly.”

“The point is,” you went on, pressing your hand flat over John’s mouth to hide his smirk. “If you knew I’d say yes, why didn’t you ask me out?”

John rolled his eyes. He tucked his fingers over yours and gently moved them away from his mouth so that he had room to reply, though not far. His lips brushed the pads of your fingers as he spoke.

“I don’t know…”

“John?”

He sighed.

“I don’t have much. I mean, I’m- I’m working on it. I will have- Right now, I’ve got nothing. And you have this place and friends and goals and dreams, and you’re so sure of yourself and I just… I didn’t think I had a lot to offer you.”

Slowly, you began to smile. Oh, he knew how to make you melt. This sweet, smart boy, always thinking ten steps ahead. He didn’t want to even entertain the idea of dating you until he had a life to share with you.

Unable to resist, you slipped your hand around until you held his jaw between your fingers and leaned down.

“Well,” you said, speaking inches from his mouth. “I wouldn’t say you ‘ave nothin’.”

You caught the edge of John’s smile out of the corner of your eye before you kissed him, hoping he’d be able to feel how much you adored him in every moment. He was more than enough. He always had been. He was everything.

John hummed, discontented, when you pulled away. The tip of his nose nudged yours, quietly demanding another kiss, and you happily obliged.

Soon you lifted his head, your fingers still wrapped around his angular jaw, and led him up onto the sofa with you, one of his bony knees pressing into your hip, the other separating your thighs.

Groaning softly, John drew his tongue across your bottom lip, just as you slipped a hand into his hair.

Something shifted.

John pressed more firmly against you. The hand that he wasn’t using to prop himself up against the back of the sofa slipped round your waist, kneading at you persistently.

“Bed?”

“Bed.”

John took your hands and helped you to your feet, though your legs felt bandy and useless as he pulled you towards the bedroom.

You were on your back before you could think to be shy, your clothes gone and your smile wide.

John pulled off his shirt, his grey eyes focused and steady and fixed on you.

You held out your hand and he took it immediately, his smile bright with excitement as you guided him down on top of you.

“Have you been practising?” you asked between breathless, messy kisses. “Like I showed you?”

John nodded, his cheeks flushed.

“Mm, in the shower.”

“You wanna try tonight?”

“I…” John glanced away. “Yeah, okay.”

Smiling, you hooked your hands around his middle and ran your fingertips up and down John’s back, seeking out the angles of his shoulder blades and the soft depression of his spine. His body was second-nature to you no, every part of him was branded onto your memory. You’d know him with your eyes closed, with your hands tied behind your back.

“We don’t have to, love.”

“No, I’d like to!” John pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth, right on your warm smile. “I want to. But I’d like to make you feel good first, if that’s alright. I think it’ll help me relax to see you… Well, you.”

It was perhaps the fourth or fifth time that he’d initiated intimacy, and your heart began to race just as fast as it did that very first night. He was so sweet, so attentive and keen, you couldn’t recall a boy ever looking at you with such intent, or with such a wicked, excited gleam in his eye at the thought of touching you.

John kissed you slowly, purposefully, as his fingers wrapped around the zip of your trousers and dragged it down.

It made your tongue feel heavy in your mouth but thankfully, you wouldn’t need to do much talking.

“Can I..?”

All you could do was nod, your throat too tight to speak, and watch his fingers slip beneath the band of your underwear to stroke tentatively between your legs. You sighed softly, letting yourself sink into the bed, your hands finding a comfortable resting place on his shoulders.

John boldly dipped two fingers into you, and you tensed at how embarrassingly wet you sounded.

He moaned softly, turning his head and pressing his lips to your shoulder.

“God, love…”

“Sorry,” You buried your face in the crook of his neck, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden. “You’re just so pretty.”

“Don’t be sorry, why on earth would you be- C’mere.”

He didn’t waste any time. John’s long hair swept along his shoulders as he settled down between your legs. His stomach had barely touched the bed when he began to press slow, open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thigh.

Heat pooled in your underwear instantly, and you had to resist the urge to push your fingers into his hair and pull his mouth to where you needed it.

John had the audacity to graze his mouth along your thigh, then look up at you with his teeth poised to sink into you, tugging his lips back in a grin.

“Any of those idiots you used to date get to see you like this?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

“No, they- Ah!”

He made good on his threat and sank his teeth into your inner thigh, still smiling.

“They liked to, er, stay up north,” you admitted, your face heating up.

John frowned. He pressed his nose into your skin, then stamped another kiss to your inner thigh, this time far closer to where you wanted him. You had to sink your teeth into your lip to avoid making any noise.

“Well,” he murmured. “I came down south for a reason.”

It was a dumb joke but it made you laugh. You felt yourself relax, all your nerves melting away with one quick, silly smile from John.

“You’re so daft,” you said fondly.

John practically purred as you ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes sliding shut with a soft sigh.

“Daft about youuu.”

His breath fanned across the inside of your legs, so close to where you wanted him, and you barely stopped your hips from rocking towards him. You shuddered as he nipped at the delicate skin of your inner thigh, balancing bites and kisses, pain and pleasure.

“John…”

Without warning, John sealed his mouth over the damp patch on your underwear, sweeping the flat of his tongue over the wet fabric, and an embarrassingly high-pitched keen tore from your throat before you could stop it.

“Can I-”

“Yesyesyes.”

You lifted your hips so that John could curl his clever fingers into your underwear, slide them down your legs and off your ankles. He barely spared them a glance before chucking them somewhere over his shoulder with the rest of your clothes, his attention fixed on you.

John pressed a single, sweet kiss against your swollen, aching clit, the gentlest, simplest thing but you nearly sobbed at how good it felt to be seen and touched by the boy you loved.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your hips arched instinctively into John’s touch, wanting more and not caring how needy you sounded.

He wrapped one hand around the underside of your thigh, pinning your other leg down with his elbow, smiling and smiling as your body reacted to him.

“God, love,” John smiled up at you between your legs, eyebrows arched with amusement. “If I’d known you’d sound like that, I would’ve asked you out a lot sooner.”

“You were worth the wait.”

Breathless, you briefly considered pushing your fingers back into his hair and pulling him down to fix the mess he’d made, but John raised himself up and out of reach.

“D’you want my fingers or my mouth?”

“Either. Both. I don’t care, John, please jus’ touch me.”

He didn’t need much more encouragement than that, but just when you thought you were finally going to get things started, John sat up on his elbows again.

“Tell me something,”

“John…”

You could have hit him, you really could have. Would anyone blame you? There he was, resting between your spread thighs, his big hands pinning you to the bed, his mouth just inches from you, and he wanted to chat.

“That first night,” he said. “When you gave me your bike. Did you know then that we’d end up here?”

You could feel his breath on your slick heat, he was so close, but he spoke so casually, you would think you were catching up over coffee.

“You had my attention.”

“When then?”

“Eh?”

“When did you know?”

Your patience was spread so thin, it was practically translucent. You sighed and sat up on your elbows.

John’s big grin told one story, the light in his eyes another. This was important to him. Before you went any further tonight, he wanted to know this about you.

You wondered how long he’d been wanting to ask. You wondered why he was asking you now. Most of all, you wondered if you even had an answer for him.

You searched yourself, rifling through the rolodex of your memory, and instead of finding one absolute, you came across a hundred moments where you’d fallen just a little bit in love with John.

“You kept askin’ to help in the kitchen.” You cleared your throat, your voice hoarse from moans caused by his touch, “You wan’ed to learn and you listened to me. You knew why Gladys called us 64 Oslo Square. You let me boss you around and tease you and you never show off about bein’ clever. There wasn’t one moment. You were just there one day and everything got be’er.”

John smiled and sweetly kissed the inside of your knee, pressing his face there for a moment before turning his head and resting his cheek against the inside of your thigh so he could look up at you.

“I’ll take that.”

“What about you?” You didn’t want to keep him talking, not when John’s tongue was inches from being buried inside you, but he’d sparked your curiosity. “When did you know?”

He looked at you like it was obvious.

“I said. That first night, when you gave me your bike.”

“Shu’ uuup.”

“It’s true!”

“I don’ believe you.”

“Not my problem, gorgeous,” John purred the words against your core, making you whimper and bunch the duvet up in your fists.

“John…”

“Sorry, sorry…”

John’s sharp grey eyes locked onto yours as he lowered his head between your thighs. You weren’t certain, but you thought you heard him murmur ‘thank you, love’, but then he dragged his tongue against you and you lost all sense of time and space.

“Oh, God, John…”

He shuffled up the bed, socked feet scrabbling against your sheets, wanting to get as close to you as he could as he licked and flicked at you with his tongue, moaning softly against you when you ground against him in response.

Whimpering softly under your breath, you threw back your head and tried to relax, but it was too much. John’s fingers wrapped around your ankle and gently placed your foot further across the bed, spreading your legs even wider so he could bury his face in you.

“Is this alright?”

His voice was muffled but you just about caught his question through your own haze.

“‘s perfect, John, please don’t stop.”

John groaned in response, shaking his head so that his nose bumped your clit while he enthusiastically ate you out, and whether it was intentional or not, it made your hips jump off the bed.

“Don’t worry, love, I won’t. Wanna make you cum like this.”

Pleasure licked down your spine at his words. John’s rough, low voice, the tight press of his fingertips into the soft flesh of your thighs, his warm tongue, the slight graze of his teeth, it was all-consuming, it was all you could think and see and hear, and you never, ever wanted it to end.

“Fuck,” You couldn’t stop yourself moaning, even if you wanted to. You squeezed your eyes shut, reaching out for his hand. “Fuck, John-”

John slipped his fingers through yours, groaning softly when you gripped him tightly. His eyes rolled closed, and he had to grind his hips against the bed to try and relieve some of the pressure.

His jaw was beginning to ache but he didn’t care, the taste of you on his tongue was enough to push him onward, and when you hooked one leg over his shoulder, your heel digging in between his shoulder blades to pull him closer, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

“God, I love you,” John moaned into you.

Your breath caught in your throat as your entire body seized, your grip on John’s fingers so painfully tight, you were probably hurting him, but you lost focus on reality before you could think to do anything about it.

He didn’t let up long after you stopped coming, dragging his tongue slowly over and over through your folds and up against your clit until you eventually had to tug at his hair, whispering for him to stop until John raised his head.

He beamed at you, lips shining, as he clambered over you, almost as breathless as you were.

While you savoured the waves of pleasure still thrumming through you, John carefully settled on top of you, warming your trembling body with the weight of his own. He sweetly touched the tip of his nose to yours and murmured under his breath, asking if you were alright.

Eyes still closed, you pulled John down into a deep kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue as your legs locked around his narrow waist.

That was all the answer he needed.

John whimpered into your mouth as you ground against him. Smiling, you realised you could feel a damp spot on the front of his underwear.

John gripped you tight, flushed and needy and at the end of his tether.

“Can I… Please…”

Still smiling, still dazed and practically humming with pleasure, you pulled him in for another deep kiss. You pressed your heels into the bottom of his spine, urging him forward, and unabashedly moaned into his mouth,

“Be a good boy and get on your back.”

Something glinted in John’s eyes as he pulled away. It wasn’t quite a light, it wasn’t a gleam, it was pure electricity.

He held out his hand. You took it, slipping your fingers round his so that he could pull you up. Your body still trembling, you carefully moved around each other, never once parting, even as John took your place on the bed and you slipped between his knees.

“Oh, sweet boy…”

You moved over him, planting your hands either side of his slim shoulders so that you could gaze down at him, your hair falling around your face and framing John’s open, awed expression.

“It’s that easy, is it?”

John gave you a shaky grin as you lowered yourself and drew your lips across where his pulse raced in his neck.

“You’ve no idea how easy I am for you, love.”

You bared your teeth against his skin. He knew just what you wanted to hear. He knew just how to please you. Had he been practising that too? Or had John always been destined to end up here, spread out on your bed, his pretty hair pooling around his head like a meadow, his grin wide and a look in his eyes that said ‘do whatever you want to me’.

“You act so sweet and innocent. You’re a needy li’le thing aren’t you, John?”

As you spoke, you reached for the bedside drawer.

John’s eyes followed your hand, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in anticipation.

You pulled out the harness, then the attachment, and carefully rose so that you could kneel. Cheeks burning under his steady, curious gaze, you stood and stepped into the harness, shimmying it up over your hips and tightening the straps with shaking fingers.

“I could listen to you whine all day…”

John’s face tensed into a scowl, his eyes still locked on your hands as you fixed the strap to the harness and reached for the drawer again.

“I don’t whine.”

“Oh, yes you do.” You grinned, upturning the bottle of lube and pouring some into the centre of your palm. “You’re always so noisy for me, honey. ‘specially when I touch you here…”

John’s back straightened like he’d been electrocuted as you wrapped a hand around him. He gasped, his eyes squeezing shut, his mouth falling open, and whispered your name like a prayer.

Beaming, you slipped your hands round to grip the undersides of John’s thighs, pulling his legs up so that his knees were by your sides. You dug your nails into his skin, not enough to hurt but it had its desired effect.

John groaned, his aching cock pressed tight against his stomach. He’d started to leak all over himself.

You kept your eyes on his, even though your heart was hammering in your chest and the way he was starting to roll his body into yours was almost dizzyingly hot.

“This is…” John huffed, shaking his head. “This is so mental.”

You laughed softly, gently, looking down at him with a quiet fondness.

“We can stop if you like? It’s never too late, y’know.”

“No, no! Don’t stop, it’s just- It’s mental.”

John laughed, shaking his head and making his hair fall around his shoulders so prettily, it was enough to drag your gaze away from his pink, parted lips. He was teasing you, his wicked smile told you so, but John’s voice was edged with trepidation.

“Good mental?” you asked nervously.

“Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we?” John’s smile turned a little more reassuring. “I want this, love. I want you.”

“Oh, I know…” The words dripped from your tongue like honeyed gold, easy and relaxed despite your racing heart. “You’ve almost made a mess of the bed and we’ve barely even star’ed.”

The creases bracketing John’s smile vanished. Wordlessly, he nodded up at you.

You smiled when you felt his fingers dip into your hair and immediately start to tangle themselves at the back of your head. It was something he often did when you were cuddled up on the sofa, watching telly, or when he slung an easy arm around your shoulder at work, not caring who saw how soppy he could be sometimes.

“Can I keep goin’, pretty boy?”

As you spoke, you began to work your hand up and down his length, so delicate and slow that John’s dark eyes appeared to gloss over. When his cock bumped against the strap, he hissed softly, half shy, half too turned on to care.

“Please…” John closed his eyes with a sigh. “Please don’t stop touching me like that. Please.”

You took in his flushed cheeks, his bright eyes, the lovely slope of his nose and the way he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, catching it between his teeth to stopper the moan sitting in his throat. He really was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

You leaned down and kissed his cheek, his jaw, your free hand coming up to cradle his face as you helped him relax.

“You’re so gorgeous, John. Just wanna make you feel so good.”

“I told you ages ago, love. You can do whatever you want with me. I’m yours. You own me.”

He mumbled the words against your skin, his lips, his breath, his slightly slurred speech all hot as he dragged his mouth along your shoulder.

“All mine. And I’m all yours, honey.”

John groaned when you pulled him into a messy kiss, your fingers pressing into his hollowed cheeks as you held his lips against yours.

You dipped your tongue into his mouth, taking what was rightfully yours, and all the while you stroked him, pulling moan after needy moan from his constricted throat.

Once you thought he’d had enough, you moved down John’s body, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to his heaving chest.

His rings were cool against your neck. His skin, in contrast, was shockingly warm against yours as you buried your face in his stomach for a moment before continuing your journey downwards.

He was tense at first, as were you, but it didn’t take long for John to relax, not when you were scissoring your fingers inside him with one hand and stroking him with the other.

Flat on his back, his long legs spread, he looked almost sinful as he begged for more and more, until you had three fingers inside him. Even when John raised his head from the pillows and caught you grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he couldn’t stop whimpering and rolling his hips against your hand.

You talked to him sweetly, encouraging him and pressing soft kisses around his bare hips, while your fingers curled inside him.

You were just starting to get tired and almost suggested switching positions, when you happened to drag your fingertips in just the right way and John yelped, his entire body tensing up.

You paused, making sure you hadn’t hurt him, but John immediately began to gabble, begging you not to stop, to please do that again. So you moved your fingers again, brushing against just the right spot, and John melted into the bed like candle wax.

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck…”

You smiled to yourself, self-satisfied and smug, and began to nip at the pale skin of his hips, watching John’s face contort in pleasure as you massaged the area with your fingertips.

“Mm, God, fuck me…” John’s mouth fell open, his long fingers gripping the mattress. “Fuck, I can’t- We need to stop, sweetheart, or you’re gonna make me cum like this.”

You paused with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, looking up at him daringly, before pulling away with a noise that made John whimper pathetically. That didn’t sound like the worst idea right now. But you were here for a reason.

You took one of his knees, bringing it over your hip, and braced yourself on the bed.

“You ready, handsome? I wanna make you feel so good, love.”

John’s legs were wiry and slim, and as you ran your hand up and down his bare thigh, you could feel his muscles tensed in anticipation.

“We’ll go nice and slow, okay? We’ve got all the time in the world, baby boy.”

Colour rose in John’s cheeks at the nickname. Something coiled in the pit of his stomach, warm and familiar. He could do anything, he decided, if you kept talking to him like that.

You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, but after watching him moan and arch his back for you, the throbbing between your thighs was too much to ignore.

You took the strap in your free hand and pushed in slowly, watching John’s face for any minute change of expression. He’d always been a tough one to read, you didn’t want to miss anything and risk hurting him or make him freeze up.

You needn’t have worried. John’s usually neutral expression tightened, his eyebrows pushing together and his lips parting. He gave a little huff, his eyes squeezed shut, though it was hard to tell if it was out of surprise, discomfort, or pleasure.

“You doin’ okay, sweet boy?”

You squeezed his hip, being careful not to move around too much so as not to jog him.

“I’m good. I’m okay.”

“It doesn’t hurt? You’re nice and comfy?”

“I feel…” John gave his hips an experimental roll, choked, and threw his head back. “Ohhh fuuuck...”

Your hand rose to brush his lovely hair back from his face but you didn’t want to distract him, so you settled for squeezing his hip instead.

“You’re perfect, baby boy. Doing so well for me.”

He gave you a shaky smile, then seemed to take a moment to centre himself. You watched John pull in a long breath, then let it go again, measured and calm.

“That’s it, honey, that’s it.” You rubbed his thighs, moaning softly when John gave a pitiful whine in the back of his throat. “Just like that, pretty boy, you’re doin’ so well for me.”

John was panting, his fingertips pressing into your shoulders every time you moved in just the right way.

Gritting your teeth, you kept going, thighs trembling with the effort. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the way his pretty face scrunched up in concentration, the way his tongue darted out to wet his parted lips, the way his stomach tensed and relaxed as he rocked more and more on your strap.

You were just about to ask if he needed a break when John’s mouth fell open.

"Ah, Christ."

"Good?"

"Yes- God, yes, good, very good-"

John hissed and bit his lip as he lifted his hips off the strap just a little, his fingers pressing into your sides, then sank back down again.

Your eyes were wide as you watched him repeat the motion again and again, slowly but surely, until John was bouncing on you. This was definitely one of your better ideas.

“Oh God, John, fuck.” Breathless, you kissed his hot cheek. “You look fuckin’ amazin’.”

Despite himself, John smiled. His cheeks were pink and his hair was starting to stick to his forehead. He looked like a dream.

“Is it as good as you imagined, sweetheart? You happy now?”

You matched his grin as you picked up speed. Your other hand slipped around his cock and began to stroke him in time with your thrusts.

“Oh, very happy, honey.”

John whimpered, his hips jerking up into your hand. He arched his back, one hand clinging to your waist for dear life while the other scrabbled at the bed sheets, clawing for grip and not finding a purchase. He swore under his breath, dragging himself up and down the strap, and all the while you watched him with a delighted smile.

“You’re such a good boy, John. Can’ believe how good you look takin’ me, baby boy, I’m absolutely soaked.”

He smiled feebly up at you, pleased with the praise, but then you must have hit some spot inside him because his face fell, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he froze.

“Oh, God,” he whispered.

John slowly circled his hips, fucking himself deep and slow and deliberate, moaning so obscenely, it actually made you blush.

You stopped stroking him, so in awe you simply forgot. Your hips stuttered, your focus slipping as you watched him groan and shake.

“God, John, look at you. How does it feel?”

He shook his head desperately, almost like it was too much to put into words, and to try and focus on verbalising how he was feeling would distract from the pleasure surging through his veins

“So good, sweetheart,” John managed to get out, his voice tight and hoarse. “You’re so good, it’s so good…”

You hummed, unimpressed, and slowed your thrusts. John gave a meek cry of protest but you didn’t cave. He could do better than that.

“How does it feel havin’ my strap inside you? Fuckin’ y’self for me like this?”

John hissed and bit his lip, circling his hips for any kind of friction, chasing the feeling.

“So fucking good. I can’t- It’s so much, sweetheart.”

You thumbed at his head, then twisted your hand, making John’s hips stutter.

“You look fuckin’ amazin’, Johnny. Look so good with my strap in that pretty little arse.”

His bright eyes met yours. John looked at you like he couldn’t believe you’d just said that. Then he laughed and moaned all at once, like he couldn’t believe how much he loved it.

“Fucking hell, love.”

Grinning, you picked up speed again, moving your hips deeper than before, aiming for that spot that made John see stars.

He tried to move with you until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He groaned and whimpered, letting out a sweet little ah! ah! ah! sounds that made you feel dizzy.

“Such a good boy for me,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, then dipped your head so that you could press a kiss to the centre of his narrow chest.

John groaned, his free hand coming up to tangle in your hair again.

“Keep talking like that, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

His words were staccato, cut short by little pants and breathy whines that grew steadily higher and higher as you snapped your hips against his.

“Good,” You kiss his throat, shining with a thin sheen of sweat, and grinned when John whimpered again. “I want you to cum for me, sweet boy. You’re not gonna last long at all, are you?”

“Fuck- No, not gonna last.”

“You never do, do you, love?”

“Wh-” John flushed, the colour spreading all the way down to his navel as he shook his head. “You’re just so good, sweetheart. Can’t help it. I- Oh.”

He stilled suddenly, then the hand at your waist squeezed hard, his fingertips sure to leave bruises.

“I think I’m gonna- Oh, God, this is- I didn’t think it would be so- I mean I knew it would be- Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, love, can I please?”

You laughed softly, always so enamoured by how chatty John got when he was close. You rubbed his thigh sweetly, smiling down at him with pride.

“That’s my good boy. Cum for me, John. You always look so pretty like this, honey. Wanna watch you cum all over yourself, sweet boy.”

“Fuck-”

John’s eyes screwed shut, his mouth hanging open as moan after obscene moan fell from him. He kept bouncing on you until, suddenly, he froze and his grip tightened on your waist.

“Oh, God, love-”

Breathless, you thrust your hips forward and stole a kiss just as John bucked his hips a final time, whining your name. He folded in the middle, and with two more strokes of your hand, he came, hard, all over his concave stomach. You gasped for air, your arms trembling, while John moaned so loud, you were sure your neighbours would hear him.

The hand that still clung to your waist pulled you closer until you collapsed on top of him, your bodies burning and heaving together. He was so sensitive, even the slightest movement seemed to make his whole body jolt, so you stayed as still as you could, whispering praise by his ear and stroking his hair until John finally came back down to earth.

When he raised his head, he seemed to see through you for a second, but then his glazed eyes cleared and he blinked at you dreamily. His pretty mouth stayed open as he panted, his warm breath brushing your cheeks.

“Y’okay?” you asked.

John nodded.

“I’m very okay,” he agreed. “Very okay. Forgot who I was for a second. C’mere.”

He pulled you into a kiss that was half sweet and grateful, and half provoking. His tongue slid over yours, then he caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“So? Thoughts?”

You squeezed John’s hips, trying to ignore how slick and wet your thighs were. This was about him, about making your boyfriend feel good, you could have another turn soon.

“Few and far between at the moment, love, I’ll be honest,” John smiled, tired and sweaty but sated. “But that was amazing. You’re amazing.”

You beamed, but your loving reply was cut short when you tried to sit up and John tensed, both his hands flying to your waist to slow your movements.

Apologising with a soft kiss, you carefully untangled yourself then laid down beside John. He immediately gathered you up in his arms, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head, his big hands splayed against your back.

“I’m supposed to be taking you out for dinner, aren’t I?” he mumbled into your hair.

You huffed, turning and burying your face in his clammy chest.

“Tomorrow. Right now, I don’t wanna move from this bed.”

“Thank God, me neither.” John pressed another kiss to your temple, smiling. “I’ll cook though. I think I owe you one after that.”

“You’re going to give me food poisoning to thank for me for making you cum harder than you ever ‘ave in all y’life?”

“I’ll have you know I make fantastic beans on toast.”

“Stop it.”

“I know.”

“You spoil me.”

“Well, you deserve it.”

You reached round and pressed your fingertips into his side, strategically poking at his ribs to make John jolt, his hands pinning you down harder against his chest to stop you doing it again while you both laughed softly.

But there was still something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you’d tucked away for another time. Words you weren’t sure if you should address, but you knew you’d be analysing and agonising and obsessing over them till you had your answer.

“I might be wrong…”

John huffed.

“Oh dear.”

You poked at his side again, beaming when it still made him jump. You could look at him like this all day, relaxed and comfortable, completely bare for you and only you. You wondered if anyone else in the world got to see that smile, that pointed, broad grin that meant John was completely at ease, or if it was only ever just for you.

“Did you say- Just now, I mean… I thought I heard you say that you loved me.”

“Ah.” John looked sheepish. “I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that.”

“Well, you were doin’ a good job of distractin’ me. Why, did you not mean it? It’s okay if you didn’t, I don’t want you to feel like you have to-”

John slipped his fingers under your chin and lifted your head so that he could press his lips to yours. He kissed you slowly, carefully, gently, until you’d almost forgotten what you’d been about to say.

When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hand, sweeping his thumb across your cheek, back and forth, back and forth, while his gaze traced the shape of your lips, your nose, your eyes.

“I meant it,” he said. “I just didn’t mean to say it then. I was hoping to tell you in a… More romantic way.”

You shrugged, grinning against his palm.

“Worked for me.”

“Well, you didn’t say anything back, so I thought…”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you’d actually said it, y’know, I didn’t wanna embarrass m’self.”

“Right, right.”

John gazed at you, his eyes steady and still. Then his mouth twitched, right in the very corner.

You rolled your eyes.

“Well, I can’t say it now!”

“Why not!”

“You’re looking at me! I feel on the spot!”

“Well,” John sighed and carefully unwrapped his arms from around you. “There are other ways of making you talk.”

“Oh!” You laughed as he clambered over you, his big hands slipping under your back so that you were laying more comfortably. “Wait, let me take this thing off.”

You moved to sit up but John stopped you with a kiss. His hands covered yours, resting together where you’d begun to unbuckle the strap.

“Leave it on,” he murmured against your lips. “Just for a bit? Please?”

“Ohhh,” You grinned as John moved back down your body and carefully parted your thighs. “Good boy.”

/

Master List

[lokiiri]

An update.

Hi friends! This is Lokiiri, also known as Loki and formerly known on Twitch and elsewhere under the names LokisObservatory or LokisAdventures. A lot has happened since I kinda dropped off the face of the planet over a year ago. So, as I’m trying to ease back to things, I wanted to give y’all a little update! If you don’t want to read all of it, there’s a summary towards the end.

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

This year has been absolutely insane for me. I had SRS in January, and had a rather rough recovery from it all things considered. After a long recovery that saw me on constant pain meds for close to three months, I immediately got sucked back into tax season at my job. As soon as that was over, I finally moved halfway across the country - something I'd wanted to do for over a year at the time. 

I've been using this time of relative solitude to reflect on myself and improve on myself. I feel like I've found a lot of resources that've been just the right thing for me, and I feel more in touch with my true feelings and wants than I ever have been - and it feels incredible. I feel like I'm learning so much about the anxieties and feelings that have driven my life so far, and this learning is slowly enabling me to dismantle those things I want to overcome, and figure out who I really, really am, unfettered by them.

I'm really passionate about where my journey has taken me, and I'm excited to announce that I'll be doing a panel at Midwest FurFest, where I'll try my best to do the topic justice and share some tools I've found helpful for myself on a journey of this kind. I also plan on streaming and recording an online presentation of the panel for those who can’t make it to MFF. 

The furry fandom was instrumental in helping me find my genuine self in a world that had convinced me that life was about locking that self deep within me. I can’t express how much this means to me, and I want to do whatever I can to pay it forward. I hope I can do this topic justice and be a voice that helps others find similar happiness to that which I have found.

Speaking of streaming, I’m going to be returning to that soon as well! I retired from it last year for a number of reasons, including how crazy my life had become as well as some traumatic situations streaming had put me in that I didn’t feel equipped to handle before. But my life has stabilized now, for the most part, and I feel as though I’ve grown, faced my fears, and am ready to come back to something I’ve really missed. 

That said, I want this to be a new start for me, and for a number of reasons, I’ll be using a brand-new account going forward - I’m now Lokiiri on Twitch (https://twitch.tv/Lokiiri)! (You can still call me Loki if you prefer!) I know starting over will make things harder, but I definitely feel more comfortable starting small, with some distance from my previous identity. I have no plans to delete the old account, LokisAdventures, but I also won’t be using it anymore.

Relatedly, yes, I have a new sona now! I love how she turned out, and I’m excited to keep struggling to draw her until I eventually get good at it! I’m also excited to share lots of lore about her! She’s weird and wonderful and she feels so me :>

That said! I also have some news that, at least for the time being, is making me quite anxious. I want to be transparent about that too, because my hope is that my way forward involves the fandom.

Remember how I said I’d been getting more in touch with how I really feel? In the process of doing that, I’ve uncovered a truth that I’d been suppressing because it’s very, very inconvenient in the society I live in:

The usual 40-hour-per-week capitalism grind has a tremendously negative effect on my mental health. It really, really doesn’t work for me, and it never has, and it never will.

See, I’m autistic. I’ve always masked it very well (still haven’t been diagnosed!). The early parts of my life were all about masking, and beating myself up whenever my undiagnosed autism showed. I even had myself fooled by my masking: I operated under the assumption I was ‘normal,’ or that if I wasn’t, then I had to make myself normal in order to survive. It’s something I think a lot of us in the fandom and outside relate to.

I was willing to push myself very, very hard to this end, because I was scared of what would happen if I didn’t. I basically got used to my career requiring me to work myself to the bone to pass muster as a ‘normal,’ neurotypical, productive employee. I managed to do okay at that from time to time, in jobs that were less demanding, but even pretending to be a mediocre ‘normie’ left me totally bereft of energy for anything that I cared for. What free time I had, I could only get myself to use on idle things that ‘pass the time’ rather than being interesting to me. It made me financially comfortable, but the cost was that my life was hollow and unhappy. 

And I find, if I truly search my heart now, I don’t want to go back. And as joyful of a discovery that would normally be in a world in which I had the freedom to pursue what I want… that’s a very scary thing to realize in this world, in my position.

One of the surest signs of my healing right now is that I’m finally unearthing genuine, actual interests - things that I know I want to do, and would love to have already been doing for years. Things like art, music, writing, voice acting. But the problem is that I’m realizing I haven’t developed much in the way of skills in those things. There’s a lot of reasons for this, but probably the biggest one is that, as a former gifted kid, I was always told to stick to what I was “already good at.” If I wasn’t automatically good at something the first time I did it, then it was shameful and uncomfortable and what was the point? I hate how much time that cost me - how much time I could’ve spent getting good at something I actually love doing.

But capitalism isn’t friendly to people in my position. My interests already are more artistic in nature, which usually doesn’t ‘pay the bills’ as well, and I’m behind the skill curve on everything I actually want to do. I’ve tried looking for jobs in my new place that look more laid-back, in hopes they might give me time to build up skills, but so far the job market here in my new place has seemed much less interested in me than I anticipated. 

Combine that with a potential complication with my surgery that I may need some intervention for, and… well, I have savings enough for a few months, but that number just keeps going down.

I don’t know what to do about this, but I have one idea, and I think it’s one that makes sense to try no matter how successful it is. I want to spend a lot of time working on the various things I’m passionate about, and try to open myself up to paid opportunities in those things as soon as I can - as a way of encouraging my work and keeping myself accountable. 

I’m honestly anxious as hell about this all. I’m dealing with a ton of impostor syndrome about it. There are a ton of voices in my head saying this is a bad idea, that it’s ridiculous for me to do this so early. I know most people’s advice would be to just ‘suck it up’ and get a ‘real’ job.

But I have to try this.

I keep thinking about what Badeline tells you early on in the video game Celeste: “You’re not a mountain climber.” It’s so easy to focus on labels and have them box you into things you just ‘can’t do.’ It’s so easy for me to say to myself, “You’re not an artist, a musician, or a writer. This is stupid. You’re wasting your time on something that’s just going to end in failure.”

But I won’t ever know that unless I try. Unless I give myself permission to climb that mountain anyway, and see where it takes me.

So, yeah. I’m in the process of setting up a Ko-Fi along with my stream so that there’s at least a framework for this. I don’t know what to expect, but for now, I’m seeing where this path leads me. Notably, I do plan to make use of my professional background to offer tax and accounting services to the fandom!

Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you around. ♥️

Summary:

I’m back, starting fresh under a new name with a new sona! You can find me at https://twitch.tv/Lokiiri!

I took a break for a while due to a combination of real-life things and some traumatic events I didn’t feel equipped to handle, but I feel like I’ve grown a lot since then. I’m hopeful that should similar circumstances arise in the future, that I’ll be better equipped to handle them in a self-loving, respectful way that’s healthy for me and everyone.

As part of my self-discovery, I’ve come to realize the true cost of me trying to shove my autistic, square-peg self into the round hole that is capitalism. Trying to do something different is a scary proposition, but I really want to try. So, I’m trying to gradually move towards being self-employed and making money through what I create. I expect this to take time and work, so I’m trying to be patient with myself! I super super appreciate any support along this journey!

By the way, if you like long-form musings and updates on my life like this, I’ll be using this tumblr blog for that! I want to get in the habit of being more transparent and open about my feelings, but having to do so 300 characters at a time is annoying x3 So I’ll be using this space as a kind of public journal, to talk about feelings and subjects that interest me. If you like that kind of thing, feel free to tune in! (I'll have to learn how all these tags and things work though, weh xD)

Thanks so much for your time, and have a lovely timezone! 💖