#it's not that we don't know what a good steakhouse is

[ladylingua]

I have a very genuine question about the tipping post I promise I didnt read it in bad faith: are people who simply cannot afford to tip not “allowed” to eat out? I’m just thinking about how it works where I am from and while tipping is the norm here if someone doesn’t tip because they can’t afford it it really isn’t a big deal (+tipping norm here us only 10%). so if a poor family goes out to eat to celebrate something and they can barely afford the meal would they still be expected to tip 20% because they shouldn’t eat out if they cant afford it? thank you in advance I’m really curious

If it helps, don’t think of the tip as a separate thing. It is part of the cost of your meal. So if you cannot afford to pay for the cost of the meal including the tip you cannot afford to eat at that restaurant. This is something I myself have to calculate when I’m deciding if I want to eat at a particular restaurant- if I have $15 I can’t go to a restaurant and order a $20 entrée and then refuse to pay the remaining cost, and likewise if I have $15 I can’t order a $15 entrée and expect not to pay the server for their service.

Now that doesn't mean families who can't afford a pricy restaurant can't eat out at all. Since it is a % of your bill you can try to go for a cheaper restaurant (smaller bill = smaller tip), or if you go to a counter service place where you serve yourself you’re not expected to tip 20% (sometimes they have a jar out you could kindly throw a dollar or more in, but there is much less expectation to tip because the workers at a place like that receive a full minimum wage, more on that in a sec). I will also say in my lived experience poor families in America understand and tip well, I’ve almost exclusively been under tipped by wealthy people (which is what kicked off the debate on twitter- if your bill is $700 then you obviously can afford to tip a full 20%, no destitute families are spending $700 on one meal).

Technically speaking you can get away with 18% as a tip, and if you go down to 15% your waiter will think you’re cheap and be annoyed (15% definitely implies you were unhappy with their service) but that is the lowest possible threshold of acceptability. 10% is not an acceptable rate here, and 20% is now the expected norm for good service, and going up from there for great service. And I would never, ever not tip at all. I can only imagine not tipping if like the server had done something deeply offensive or dangerous or something. I've never encountered a situation where I felt the server didn't deserve any tip at all.

Because you’ve asked in genuine good faith I’m going to provide some more context to help you understand a bit more why this is the way it is-

Waitstaff in america are wildly underpaid. Our federal government assumes the tips are part of their expected income, and so a) they are taxed on assumed tips and b) it is legal to pay them less than standard minimum wage. Currently the tipped federal minimum wage is $2.13/hr. Now, states set their own individual rates so some states do better, but $2.13/hr is the lowest they can all legally go. And you’ll notice in that link it mentions the assumed tips and taxing them. I said on my original post, when I worked as a tipped waitress I made $2.68/hr and sometimes my biweekly paycheck was like $60 total. Imagine trying to survive on $120 a month, you absolutely cannot. Tips made up my actual wage, and were the paycheck I depended on to pay for my basic needs. I relied directly on customers to choose to do the social convention of tipping for survival, and when someone would choose to do otherwise it was utterly devastating.

Another thing customers sometimes don’t realize is your waiter may not be allowed to keep all of the tip themselves. It’s a common practice to pool tips amongst all the waitstaff and then divide them equally, and many places require that you tip out other employees there. So if you give me $10 as a tip I might be actually giving a large chunk of that to bussers, bartenders, etc. Or maybe we pool tips and someone else stiffed my colleague so now all of us are sharing your $10 tip. So also keep in mind that the money you leave as a tip very often does not go entirely to the actual waiter, so a big tip can actually become pretty small much faster than you would think.

(and that's just legal practices, wage theft and illegal practices run rampant in the restaurant industry, just fyi)

If you are wondering why tipping culture here is so grim, it is because of slavery. Tipping got big here as a way to keep forcing Black Americans into working for free, now with a small tip but still no actual wage. It was designed for oppression. Waitstaff are overwhelmingly not wealthy people. It is very common for them to be on food stamps, require housing assistance, or to otherwise be living under the poverty line. If you are eating out and not tipping because you yourself are poor, you are taking money out of someone else’s poverty wages to do so. When we debate minimum wage here in america, conservatives are really good at painting a picture of waitstaff being perky middle class college kids making an extra buck, or teens from wealthy homes wanting some spending money. There is an implication that they don't really need the money that badly. That is not the reality of who makes up most serving jobs in america. Minimum wage workers are likely to be in poverty, they’re likely to be women and specifically they’re likely to be women of color. Americans of color are significantly more likely to be working at minimum wage than white americans. There is a pretty sizeable number of minimum wage workers who are over 50, and a not insignificant amount of them who are mothers who support their families. There are also those teens who just want extra cash, and they deserve good compensation for their hard work too, don’t get me wrong, but they are only a portion of who makes up the minimum wage workforce.

If you’re like “But that’s such a shitty system, you’re saying it’s pitting poor people against each other for basic human comforts!” yup. I 100% agree. I am a vocal proponent of raising the minimum wage for that reason. I also advocate for a Universal Basic Income, because I understand that when it comes to small mom & pop restaurants the owners aren’t always making a ton of money either and it seems like truly no one is winning in this system. It is set up to oppress and to demean and to grind us all down. There are lots of orgs in America that are fighting to improve the system, or to radically change the system. There are also restaurants that have tried to do things differently- there’s a wine bar in my city that says specifically on their menu that their wine is more expensive because they pay their workers a true livable wage so there is no tipping there. Instead as a customer I pay a higher upfront cost that covers the true expense of running the bar- including server wages. I love that, I wish more places would do things like that. In the meantime, when I’m choosing where to eat I factor in a tip of 20% when calculating my estimated bill, because paying for service is part of the cost.

Refusing to tip fully in america is not doing anything to change the system. It does not make restaurant owners rethink their pay structure, it does not put pressure on our government to fix minimum wage, it does not make a political statement. It just means your server is going home wondering if they can afford their own meal that night.

Thank you for asking for clarity, I hope this helps. Please feel free to ask more if you have any remaining confusion or are curious about other aspects of american culture. If I can answer and the questions are respectful, I am happy to reply!

[urfavsimpingfanficwriter]

Kinktober Prompt Day 2- Humiliation/Exhibitionism

Masterlist (Kinktober)

Masterlist (Total)

Humiliation/Exhibitionism- Brian Quinn x Fem!Reader

18+

While you're out for dinner with Brian and the guys, you get an idea on how to pay him back for the meal.

Warnings: Humiliation Kink; Exhibitionism; Fem!Reader; Male Ejaculation; Slight Cum-Eating; Getting Caught in Public; Use of Y/N; Pet Names; Whimpering; Slight Sub/Dom Dynamics (If you squint)

I think that's it!

Smut Under the Cut<3

Brian's arm was wrapped around your waist as you walked with the guys to your table. Another season filmed, and the guys wanted to celebrate. You insisted that Brian could go without you, even if you already had plans for a "date night", but he wouldn't budge. He insisted that the guys would love to hang out with you just as much as they would him. You didn't believe him, but decided to go anyways, putting on your favorite dress and doing your hair and makeup. You always tried to impress the guys, no matter how many times Brian insisted that you were practically one of the guys yourself.

Now, you were seated in Ruddy and Dean, one of the best steakhouses in Staten Island, ordering a filet mignon, silently panicking about the astronomical prices (I mean 60 bucks for a 10 oz steak holy shit), and sipping on your drink.

Joe and Sal laugh about something Murr said, and Brian placed a hand on your thigh in a loving way, smiling at you. His face twists slightly in worry and he leans in, whispering in your ear.

"You alright hon? You look worried about something."

"This is too expensive Bri, I really shouldn't have come," You whisper back, anxiety lacing your words.

Brian squeezes your thigh, smiling into your ear, "Y/N, I can afford it. You know I don't mind spending money on you. Anything you want, you know that, so don't worry."

You nod. Then an idea comes to you.

"I think I would be more comfortable if I could... make it up to you?" You say, a small smirk on your lips.

"Wha-"

Before Brian can question what you mean, your hand goes to his clothed crotch, squeezing slightly.

He breathed in, clutching your thigh, surely leaving bruises for you to find tomorrow. You could feel his thigh clench under your arm.

He was about to say something to you when you look to Joe, "Thank you guys so much for letting me tag along!"

He smiles at you, "No problem Y/N, we love having you!"

You squeeze the quickly hardening length beneath your hand, rubbing your thumb up and down the length, "Really? I hope I'm not intruding. I mean, this is your guy's night, ya know?"

Sal chimes in, "Please, if I had to sit here listening to Murray talk about his new 'gadget' all night without you to shut him up I'd go insane!"

You laugh and Murr playfully shoves Sal.

"Well, as long as you guys are sure..." You say, beginning to unbutton Brian's dress pants with one hand.

Murr leans across the table so you can hear him better, "We love you being here. Honestly, we should probably replace Q with you, don't you guys think?"

The rest of the guys laugh and nod their heads, agreeing, as you subtly, slowly move your hand into Brian's pants, palming his cock over his boxers. You can feel how precum is already making a small wet patch.

"Why so silent, Bri?" You say, putting on a small, innocent smile.

He looks at you, his eyes widening, "I-I'm not. Just t-tired I guess."

You lean your head on his shoulder, pushing your hand underneath his boxers, "Long day? I guess so, finishing everything up with the show and all."

All Brian could do was nod a bit and mutter a small, "Mhm," with you pumping his thick cock.

Precum was already soaking your hand, and you could feel his hard, veiny length twitching in your palm. You squeezed lightly, forcing a whimper out of his mouth.

"Brian, you feelin' okay? You don't look good," Joe said, worried about his friend and his...sweaty...complexion.

"Y-yeah man. All good. Think I just need to eat somethin', ya know?" Brian all but moaned.

You pumped his dick faster, rubbing your thumb over the tip, forcing his legs to slightly shake.

You lean in, pretending to pick a piece of fuzz out of his hair, "You know the safeword, right?"

He nodded slightly, causing you to smile. You knew he'd enjoy this, being used in front of his friends without them even knowing. Being humiliated in front of his closest friends, in the middle of a restaurant.

You could see the waiter from where you were sitting. He was gathering all the meals on his tray.

So, not much longer then.

You move your hand faster, causing him to rock his head back, mouth agape, panting. Sweat was beading his forehead. If you didn't think it would be too obvious, you would get under the table right now and suck him off.

God, would that be so fucking hot.

For now, however, you had to play the concerned girlfriend secretly jacking off her boyfriend. Thankfully, the guys were, for the most part, distracted by some picture or video on Joe's phone.

You continued to pump Brian's cock, his hand now leaving your thigh, clutching your forearm for dear life. His dick was twitching heavily now, hips slightly thrusting up into your hand.

"Come on now Bri, come for me baby. Come on, my good boy," You quietly moaned into his ear.

He groaned, causing a couple from the table next to you to glance over. His thick, heavy load shot up all over your hand and onto his still-clothed stomach and pants.

You pull your hand away after a few more thrusts, bringing your hand up to your mouth, licking the cum off and swallowing while looking into Brian's droopy, glazed over eyes. Little did Brian know, Murray was staring right at you, and probably had been since Brian practically moaned in the middle of a busy restaurant.

You looked over at Murr and the rest of the guys, licking the last of the cum off of your fingers and leaning your head on Brian's shoulder, "Like the show? I know Bri sure did."

Murr's face burned bright red, as did Brian's. You knew he liked it though. Let's be real, they both did. Brian was your good boy, and at the end of the day, you owed him for this 60 buck steak you were about to eat. Maybe one day Murr could even join you guys. Maybe. If he promised to be a good boy, of course.

[joelmillerisapunk]

I'll never stop makin' you feel this good

bfd!joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

↳ wordcount: 3,795

↳ summary: After returning to your hometown, you reconnect with your childhood friend Sarah and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. As you spend time with him, you can't deny the spark between you, and soon you find yourself on a date with Joel, where things quickly heat up and the chemistry between you becomes impossible to ignore.

~or~

↳ a dom!daddy date

↳ warnings: 18+, dom!Joel, implied age gap, light spanking, fingering, light male masterbation, public stuff? But nothing too wild.

↳ notes: my favorite line became the title since I couldn't find a song I liked. Ty @saradika-graphics as always for the dividers 💓 and tysm for the love and support on all my fics so far. As a brand new writer its been so incredibly validating. I've gained so many amazing followers, moots, and friends in the like two weeks I've been here. I LOVE YOU ❤️

After being away for several years to pursue your dreams of becoming a marine biologist, you return to your hometown to visit your family and your childhood friend Sarah Miller and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. Sarah was like a sister to you growing up, and you were excited to catch up with her and see how much she had grown.

As you walk up to the Miller's house, you can't help but feel a little nostalgic. You and Sarah used to play in the front yard for hours, pretending to be superheroes and exploring the neighborhood.

Joel greets you with a warm smile as he opens the door. "Howdy kiddo. Missed seein’ ya around," he says, extending his hand for a friendly handshake. And as your hand meets his, he takes in your appearance, he can't help but notice how much you've grown up, how much more mature you've become. He quickly clears his throat, trying to tame his thoughts.

You grin and shake his hand. "Hey, Mr. Miller. It's good to be back," you reply, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Mr. Miller makes me sound old. Just call me Joel,” he says, chuckling.

You giggle, "alright Joel it is."

Joel nods and stands straight. "Well, kiddo, how've you been? You look good."

"I've been really good, Mr. Miller - uh Joel. College is going well," you reply, feeling a little more at ease.

"College, huh? And what do you wanna be when you grow up?" Joel asks.

You giggle. “I'm not exactly five anymore, but I'm going to school to be a marine biologist," you say, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Joel's face lights up in surprise. "Marine biologist... that's gotta be one dangerous job. You know, I saw a show on Netflix once about shark attacks. I thought a pretty thing like you shouldn't be near those monsters, they'll eat'cha whole."

You chuckle, "Yeah, they're quite terrifying, but I might have learned a thing or two in school.” You wink playfully.

“And just what do you learn about shark attacks in marine biology school?” Joel asks, skeptical.

You smile. “ Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep my professors in the loop," you reply, trying to keep a straight face.

Joel can't help but smirk, “alright darlin’, and moves to the side to let you inside.

After a few hours of catching up and reminiscing about old times with Sarah, it's time for you to leave. But just as you're about to head out the door, Joel stops you. "Uh hey, listen, could I interest you in dinner sometime? I know a good steakhouse nearby. I think we could have a good time and catch up," he says, with a hopeful expression on his face.

Caught off guard, you're unsure if he's asking you on a date, but it feels innocent enough, so you agree. "Yah, that'd be nice, Joel," you say, trying to keep a straight face. Secretly hoping it was intended for more.

"Great! I'll pick you up at eight, okay? Here, I'll text you the name of the place, and you can look it up if you'd like," Joel says, as he hands you his phone with the contact app already open.

You take his phone and place your number in it.

"Thanks, kiddo. Hey, you okay? You look a little anxious for a steak dinner," Joel says, noticing your nervousness.

"Not at all, looking forward to it," you reply, with a confident smile. You place a hand gently on his arm, feeling a warmth radiate between you two.

Joel smiles and says, "Alright, kiddo. I'll see you later, then."

"See ya later, Joel," you say, as you walk out the door, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for your dinner date with Joel.

You're excited as you wait for Joel to pick you up for your dinner date. When he arrives, he knocks at your door, and when you open it, he says, "You ready to eat some steak, kiddo?"

You open the door, ready as ever. “Joel, you don't have to keep calling me kiddo. I'm not a child anymore.”

“Alright, darlin’, let's get going, then.” He holds out his hand, and you take it. When you get to his car, he opens the car door for you. You hurry in, eager to spend time with Joel.

“There's some great steak at this restaurant. You'll love the atmosphere there, it's a classy place. The staff is professional, not chatty, and very good customer service.” He smiles as he puts his car in gear and starts driving”

You smile and look forward as he drives. “I can't wait.”

When you arrive, he gets out and opens the door for you, then locks up his car. “Ladies first. That's how me and your old man were raised.” He laughs as you walk toward the restaurant.

You chuckle, “such a gentleman.” You get to a big glass door, a maitre d' greets you and seats you in a booth at a table for two. “Doesn't look too crowded tonight.” He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair.

You take your coat off as well, revealing a very fitted dress. “It's beautiful, Joel.”

He looks at you and smiles, staring at you for a second “You look beautiful, very nice dress. You're much more grown up now than the last time I saw you.”

You feel yourself getting warm as you sit down, “thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” You manage to wink at Joel.

He laughs, “I'm sure you've got a lotta boys chasin’ you.” He pauses for a moment, eyeing you up and down before he continues, “that dress sure does suit you darlin’.” He grins mischievously.

You giggle, “well not exactly the boys I want to be chasing me.” You grin at him playfully. “I'm glad you like it, I just got it, actually.”

“Oh? And who exactly are you hoping to chase you.”

“I dunno, someone a little older, strong, I'm tired of boys.” You look into his eyes. “A real man who knows how to take care of a woman.”

He grins, leaning in a bit “So, you like a dominant man, huh? Would you say I fit the bill?”

You're a little surprised by Joel's straightforwardness but lean in closer, testing the waters a bit. “Well, I'm not so sure just how dominant you are, Mr. Miller, I might need you to show me.” You wink, biting your bottom lip.

He leans in even closer across the table and whispers in your ear. “Don't talk like that, or you're gonna get me all riled up. A girl like you should be careful about what you say.”

You whisper breathily in his ear, "I like a little danger.”

His eyes widen, shocked that you would say something so…naughty. “Are you tryin’ to get me to do something at the dinner table?” He says in a hushed tone. “Don't tempt me, baby.”

“Yes, sir.” You sit back and wink at him, liking his authoritative behavior but still feeling a bit defiant. You run your foot up his leg till it hits his thigh, your gaze locked onto his eyes.

He grins, placing his hand on your leg, slowly moving it up your dress, “You're playing with fire, darlin’.” His hand slowly makes its way up your leg, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

You look into his eyes and challenge him, "Hmm, well, what exactly would you do with a girl like me?"

Joel's hand is now resting on your inner thigh, and you can feel his fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. He leans in closer to you, "I think you already know what I'd do to you." You feel a shiver run down your spine.

The waiter comes to your table and asks if everything is alright, but you barely register his presence. All you can focus on is the feeling of Joel's hand on your thigh and the way his eyes are burning into yours. Joel leans back in his chair and sips his wine, never taking his eyes off of you. You can feel your heart racing as you stare back at him, wondering what he's going to do next.

The waiter brings your wine that Joel ordered, and you take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body. Joel's hand is still on your thigh, and you can feel him slowly sliding it up higher and higher.

"I love the way you breathe when I touch you. Makes me feel all-powerful." Joel's voice is filled with desire, and you can't help but feel the same way.

You look at him, challenging him, "You think you can tame me, Mr. Miller?"

Joel grins, "I don't like the word tame. I prefer the word... break. If I'm gonna take charge, I'm gonna take it completely, and this dress of yours ain't survivin' the night."

Your heart is pounding in your chest as Joel's hand reaches the top of your thigh. You can feel his fingers lightly grazing your wet panties, and you gasp at the sensation. "Think you can handle this old cowboy darlin’?" Joel's voice is low and dangerous, and you can feel yourself getting lost in his eyes.

You nod, unable to speak, as Joel's fingers start to move in slow circles over your clit. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you moan softly as Joel's fingers quicken their pace. Suddenly, Joel pulls his hand away, leaving you wanting more. He stands up, offering to help you up as well. "You really think I’d let a pretty thing like you come in public? Come on, it’s time for us to eat in private."

You follow Joel out of the restaurant, feeling dizzy with lust. You can barely believe what just happened. As you walk to Joel's car, you can feel his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards his black Mustang. You slide into the passenger seat, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. Joel starts the car, and you take off towards Joel's place.

You feel so innocent and young next to Joel, but you love the feeling. You follow him through his house until you reach a small room with a couch, a TV on one side, and a fireplace on the other. Joel pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

He goes back to the kitchen to just grab the entire bottle. You make your way around, looking at all his stuff. You pick up a small carving, accidentally dropping it on the floor and bending over to pick it up, but your dress doesn't fully cover you. Joel walks back at the perfect time and can see everything, but you don't notice, so he's quiet and sets the bottle down before moving toward you.

"Oh, I like this little maneuver of yours,” Joel's voice is low and gravelly as he takes in the sight of you bent over, your dress riding up to reveal your lacy underwear. He steps closer to you, his hand tracing a path between your legs, stopping just shy of your center. "I like it a lot," he growls, his breath hot on your neck.

You gasp as you feel his fingers brush against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You're unable to resist the urge to push back against him, wanting more of his touch. Joel takes advantage of your position, his fingers slipping beneath your underwear as he explores your wet folds. You moan softly, your head falling back as he teases you with his touch.

"So, so wet for me," Joel murmurs in your ear, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I can feel how much you want me.” You can't deny it - you want him more than you've ever wanted anyone before. You push back against him, trying to get him to give you more. Joel chuckles, his fingers stilling for a moment before he gives you what you want. He plunges two fingers deep inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You cry out in pleasure, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. But just as you're about to come, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting. You turn to look at him, your eyes pleading for more.

He grins wickedly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Not yet, darlin’ hold on for me.” Joel stands up, walking over to the fireplace and stoking the flames. You can't take your eyes off of him, watching as he moves with a confidence and authority that makes your heart race.

He turns back to you, his eyes blazing with desire. "Take off your dress. I want to see you." You hesitate for a moment, but the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not going to take no for an answer. You stand up straight, reaching behind you to unzip your dress. As the dress falls to the ground, you stand before Joel in nothing but your underwear. He lets out a low whistle, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he growls, his eyes dark with desire.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as Joel's eyes roam over your body. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed - and yet so wanted. Joel reaches down, adjusting himself as he stares at you. "Take off your underwear, too. I want to see all of you."

You nod, your hands shaking as you slip your underwear down your legs. You step out of them, standing before Joel completely naked. He lets out a low groan, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. Joel reaches down, pulling his cock out of his jeans and boxers. He starts stroking himself, his eyes never leaving yours. "Watch me darlin’. Watch as I stroke my cock, thinking about all the things I'm gonna to do to you."

You can't take your eyes off of him as he strokes himself, his hand moving up and down his shaft. You've never seen anything so hot before. You watch as Joel continues to stroke himself, his eyes locked on yours. You can feel your body responding to the sight of him touching himself.

"C'mere darlin," he beckons, patting the space beside him. As you move to sit next to him, his fingers begin to trace a path up your leg, inching closer and closer to your wet center. Once there, his touch becomes more deliberate, circling your clit with a gentle touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but moan softly, your hips bucking up to meet his skilled fingers.

He stops for a moment and with a firm but gentle grip, Joel guides you to turn over, positioning you face down, ass up on the couch, he finds your clit quickly again as his other hand comes down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the small room. The sting of his hand on your skin only serves to heighten your arousal. His hand comes down on your backside once again, the sound of his palm against your skin filling the room. The mixture of pleasure and pain is intoxicating, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Joel smirks, his hand coming down again and again, the pain mixing with pleasure in a way that leaves you dizzy.

"You like that, don't you?" Joel's voice is low and rough, his fingers still moving in slow circles over your clit. "You like it when I take charge, when you don’t have to do anything but what I tell you, no thinkin’ just doin’."

You nod, unable to speak. It's true - you do like it. You like the way Joel makes you feel helpless, his to do with as he pleases. Joel growls, his fingers plunging deep inside you again. This time, he doesn't stop, his hand moving faster and faster as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

You moan louder, your hips bucking up to meet his hand. Joel's other hand comes down on your ass again, only adding to the pleasure. Finally, Joel's fingers still, his fingers resting deep inside you as you come hard. You cry out, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Joel pulls his fingers out of you slowly, holding them up to your lips. "Taste yourself. See how sweet you are." You open your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste your own juices. It's unlike anything you've ever tasted before, and you can't get enough.

Joel smirks, his hand moving up to your hair. He grips it tightly, pulling your head back so that you're looking up at him. "You're mine now, and I'll do whatever I want with you." All you can do is whimper in excitment, your heart racing in your chest. You've never felt so alive. Joel releases your hair, his hand moving back down to your thigh. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

You lean back against the couch, feeling boneless and sated. Joel leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you scream, again and again and again."

Joel stands up, his hands moving to the buttons on his own shirt. You watch as he undoes each one, revealing his muscular chest and arms. Your eyes widen as he kicks off his shoes and socks, followed by his pants and boxers. His cock stands at attention, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation. Joel's eyes follow your gaze, a smirk crossing his lips. "Like what you see, darlin'?" Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to grab your ass.

Joel lifts you up with ease, his strong arms supporting your weight as your legs wrap around his waist. You can feel the head of his cock lightly brush against you, causing you to gasp at the contact. He takes a moment to look into your eyes, a smoldering gaze that makes your heart race.

With a gentle yet firm grip, he guides his cock to your entrance, teasing you with small thrusts that make you squirm with anticipation. You can feel how wet and ready you are for him, your body begging for more.

Joel then slowly pushes himself into you, filling you up completely. You let out a moan as he bottoms out, his cock buried deep inside you. He pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. You can feel the warmth and tension building up inside you, your body responding to his cock sitting inside you.

With ease, Joel carries you upstairs to his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. Once he reaches the bed, he tosses you down onto it, his body following you down. He positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with his cock. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Joel thrusts inside you, filling you up completely. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his back as he starts to move. His thrusts are hard and fast, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Joel's hands are on your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. "You like that, darlin'? You like it when I fuck you like a dirty little slut?" Joel growls, his fingers digging into your hips. You moan, your body responding to his words. “Tell me how much you like it, darlin'. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you," Joel commands, his fingers tightening around your hips.

"I love it. I love your cock inside me. Please, don't stop," you beg.

Joel smirks, "I'll never stop fucking you, darlin'. I'll never stop making you feel this good." Joel's thrusts become more erratic as he chases his own release, his cock driving deeper into you with each stroke. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body begging for release.

"Come for me, darlin'. Come all over my cock," Joel growls, his voice deep and raw with desire.

His fingers tighten around your hips, pulling you closer as he pounds into you. You can feel every inch of him, his thick cock stretching you wide as he fucks you hard and fast.

Your body trembles with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.

"Fuck, I'm close," he growls, his breath hot against your neck.

You can feel him tensing up, his cock swelling inside you as he gets closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.

With a loud groan, Joel stills, his cock buried deep inside you as he comes. You can feel him pulsing inside you, a feeling you never knew you'd love so much. Joel collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy as he pants against your neck.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling more content and satisfied than you ever have before. Joel's cock is still buried deep inside you, and you can feel him softening as he comes down from his high. You moan softly as he slips out of you, your body missing the feeling of him inside you.

Joel rolls over onto his back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You can see the satisfied look on his face, and you can't help but smile, your bodies entwined as you lay together.

Joel's cock is still glistening with your juices, and you can't help but reach out and touch him. You wrap your hand around his softening length, feeling him twitch at your touch. "You feel amazing," you murmur, your fingers tracing the veins that run along the length of his cock.

Joel smiles, his hand reaching out to touch your face. "You're amazing," he replies, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

You lay there together, your bodies entwined as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You feel more connected to Joel than ever before, your bodies and souls intertwined as you lay there in the peaceful silence, content and fulfilled in each other's arms.

[baronessvonglitter]

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 1

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring nightclub owner! Javier Peña)

Word count: 2,779

Summary: A chance meeting at a museum brings you companionship when you least expect it.

(Warnings contain spoilers beneath the cut)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for allusion to smut/light smut and eventual smut. Rom com vibes throughout. AU as stated above. Reader wears dress and makeup. Mentions of loneliness. TW for infidelity and some violence (nobody harmed.. physically)

Author's Note: Some of you may be thinking, 'but Adriana, don't you already have a series about Dave?' to which I answer a resounding Yes, but I've left that story at a good place for right now and will get to updating it as time allows. Plus I really just wanted to do a light and fluffy story 😊 Fun fact: all the chapters are named after rom-com tropes 😉There will be more Pedro characters added in later chapters, so be on the lookout. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

You put on your earrings in the mirror, little violet flower earrings that match the soft purple in your dress. Your mascara, freshly applied, is at risk of being cried away before you grab a tissue to dab at your eyes.

"You're sure you're not upset?" your husband Javier asks behind you, sitting up in bed with a fresh cigarette between his lips.

"Of course not," you smile, doing your best to tamper down your feelings and brush your selfishness aside. "I know the business comes first." Javi has important meetings regarding his nightclub, more than ever these days, it seems. You're a good wife in letting him do what he needs to do.

"You know I'd come with you if I could. And hey, the museum's always gonna be there," he reasons. "Besides, we'll catch dinner later tonight at that new steakhouse on the east side."

"It's just.." you turn to face him, leaning against the vanity. "Today's the last day of the Kusama exhibit. I wanted to see it with you."

"Baby, we can catch it another time."

"After this they're moving across the country," you pout, not meaning to, but it's the umpteenth time Javier has broken his promise to you.

"Come here."

You obey his soft command, sitting on the edge of the bed, your skin warming to his touch as his fingers graze up and down your arm. "You smell good, baby. You used that perfume I got you?"

"Yeah," you smile, lifting your other wrist to your nose. "Roses de Chloe. My favorite."

"My favorite too, on you." He stubs out his cigarette and pulls you in for a kiss.

"Javi," you giggle as his hand dips below the scooped neckline of your dress, cupping your breast. "Didn't you get enough earlier?"

"I didn't fuck you good enough if you're still able to walk," he smirks, pulling you down against his chest.

"I'm already running late," you sigh as he pulls the top of your dress down and his lips pucker around your nipple, sucking and pulling.

"Late for a museum? Only you would worry about that, honey. Now come on," he says, scooting down on the bed. "Lift up that dress, baby, and sit on my fucking face."

Dave has been waiting in line with his daughters for only fifteen minutes when the announcement is made that tickets are officially sold out. Alice and Molly look up at him, expecting him to do something, but what exactly can he do? "Look, girls, I'm sorry. We'll have to come back another day."

"We wanted to see the exhibit. I wanted to take a selfie with those big neon wiggly things," Molly pouts.

"I know, sweetie, but it's just not in the cards today." He ruffles her hair, hating to disappoint them.

There's a scent of roses as he feels someone approach the three of them. "Hey, sorry, I heard you wanted to get into the exhibit."

Dave looks up and sees you, and has a momentary lapse of thought, struck by how pretty you are. Floral dress, white sweater, lavender bag. It's like you've stepped out from a commercial.

"Um.. yes, my daughters are kind of upset that tickets sold out so quick. It's my fault for not purchasing them ahead of time." He smiles sheepishly, wondering what you must think of him.

"I can get you in with me," you offer. "I have a membership pass. Kids get in free and I can bring one other person."

"You don't have to do that-"

"Please. I want to." You take a look at his daughters, who are looking back at you with hope in their pretty little eyes. "You'd be doing me a favor by accepting," you tell Dave.

The girls tug on his hands, jumping up and down, begging him to take up your offer until he at last relents. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "Thank you, Miss..?"

You give him your name, offer your hand, which he takes in his own. He repeats it back to you, making sure he's got it right, the taste of your name like a sweet swig of wine in his mouth.

He introduces himself, Dave York, and his kids Molly and Alice, minus the wife Carol, who's working a double shift today. The usual pleasantries are exchanged, nervous smiles, comments about the weather.

Even after you break the handshake he swears he can still feel your skin against his, soft and delicate.

You willingly split from him once you're inside, not wanting him to feel beholden to stay at your side because of your help. Besides, you're used to outings where you're by yourself. It gives you time to think.

The exhibit is just as gorgeous in person as you've seen online. Love is Calling is an area filled with brightly-lit neon orange, purple, green, and yellow inflatable shapes that remind you of large stalagmites and stalactites covered in big black polka dots, which change colors gradually.

"It's like being in another world," someone says next to you, and you look up to find Dave.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling as you look around. "Like Dr. Seuss's world."

He laughs at that, and watches his older daughter take a selfie just as she'd wanted to do. You like his laugh, and a deeper part of you wants to hear it more often. From the corner of your eye you watch him in profile. Dark brown hair, neatly combed to the side, coffee-colored eyes, aquiline nose, soft-looking lips with a prominent cupid's bow, and a clean shaven jaw.

You realize you've been staring too long, blush creeping up your neck as you turn away just before he sees.

"Do you hear that?" he asks, brows drawn together in concentration.

You grab the brochure from inside your bag. "It's the artist, Yayoi Kusama, reciting a love poem in Japanese," you read. "The poem is called 'Residing in a Castle of Shed Tears'."

"Sad title for such a whimsical place."

"True.." you watch his girls playing, hiding from each other among the colorful shapes. "They're having fun."

"Do you have any of your own?" he asks.

"Oh.. no. My husband and I didn't want any." It was a little white lie-- Javier had gotten a vasectomy without your knowledge right after you'd gotten married. But it's not anything a stranger needs to know.

"They're.. life-changing," Dave says.

"No boys?"

He shakes his head. "We are pretty much done ourselves."

"Ah. Got it."

Entering into the next area is the most magical part. The infinity mirror room, dark but for a blue tint cast throughout, and hundreds of tiny LED lights. You're multiplied throughout the mirrors within, in seemingly endless space. It takes your breath away.

Next to you, Dave's fingers accidentally brush yours and you both startle from it, laughing a little nervously before you move away. You try not to think about the jolt that went through you at the contact.

You try to stay as long as you can in this area, before the next crowd comes in. It's in this one place you don't feel like yourself, as if you exist far apart from your life, and it's a very freeing feeling.

Dave loses you after the exhibit, and stamps down the disappointment at realizing he might not ever see you again. He tries to show the girls some art, what little he studied in college, explaining the way certain painters painted the way they did, or the intricacy of a sculpture. Molly and Alice don't seem interested, but they like spending time with him.

His heart jumps when he sees you across the gallery, studying a Renaissance painting, staying long after the others have moved onto other pieces. You must feel his eyes on you because you turn, and with a little smile you wave at him. He waves back, holding back a full on grin as you approach him. "Thought you'd left by now."

"I could stay here all day," you tell him, and there's something about the dreamy look in your eyes that melts his heart. A silent agreement crosses between you and you circle the gallery together.

So close to you now, he tries to be stealthy about his glances at you. He can't defend the awkward rhythm of his heart when you move closer to whisper some fact about the painter of this particular still-life. All he can think about is your scent: rose perfume, a sweet vanilla in your shampoo, and something else, unfamiliar and yet he'd know it from a mile away.

Sex. You smell like sex.

His eyes dart quickly to your dress, the flesh of your thighs not covered, wondering if you know, if you even care, because truth is he doesn't mind it at all.

Stop looking at her. You're married. She's married. The band of gold glistening on your finger is a dead giveaway.

"We need to come out here more often," he says, hoping to find a reason to run into you again. "We should get going. But not before a stop at the gift shop, right?" And the girls agree excitedly.

You pop in with them, not really knowing why. Maybe it's because Dave is so nice, or because his daughters are adorable and you'd like to have your own someday.

You're perusing the section near the cashier's desk you and Dave both reach for the same poster: Starry, Starry Night by Van Gogh.

"Sorry," you say at the same time, awkwardly letting go.

"You should take it," he offers.

"No, no.. your girls should have it. I wasn't going to buy it anyway."

He shakes his head, a little smile on his lips, which you can't stop glancing at. "You've done so much for us today.."

"Please," you insist, handing him the poster tube.

It's a warm feeling to watch the girls so excited, ending their day on a high note. You walk outside altogether, the late afternoon giving way to early evening.

"We wanted to thank you again. Right, girls?" And his daughters give a polite 'thank you' in unison, their cute faces beaming.

"It's my pleasure," you smile serenely at them. "I hope I'll see you again sometime. I actually own a little place a couple blocks away. It's a bookstore-slash-bakery."

"We could go check it out," Dave offers, and the girls are excited to spend more time on their adventure.

Dave doesn't know what to expect when he steps foot into your bookstore/bakery, Fiction & Frosting, but he can tell right away it's absolutely your creation. The bakery section is at the front, the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and coffee greeting him, giving a cozy atmosphere right away. The glass display cases boast treats of all kinds: cookies, cupcakes, cake pops, brownies, everything a bakery could have. Down the counter, employees are making coffee, preparing orders as customers wait patiently, thumbing through the books they've already purchased.

He smiles when you slip behind the counter, getting the girls some treats after making sure it's okay with him, and strawberry milk to go with their sweets. Dave declines at first but is unable to resist a blueberry muffin and a black coffee. He insists on paying you, but you refuse his money. It's easy to be kind to him and his kids. You like taking advantage of being able to do nice things for others.

The four of you stroll the bookstore area, the atmosphere cozy, the scent of paper and ink that only a literary shop can provide. There are new releases as well as classics; magazines and journals. "This is impressive. I can't remember what this place used to be, and I've worked across the street from here for years." Dave says. Alice and Molly are looking at the kids' section.

"Oh you have?" you smile. "I've always wondered what that place is." All you know is it's a high-rise building, sleek glass and metal, with expensive suits coming and going.

"Here," he says, reaching into his wallet and pulling out his business card. Your fingers brush together for a moment during the transfer, and you both smile.

"You're a.. divorce attorney," you say, voice somewhat flat.

"Uh, yeah," he says as if he could apologize. He glances at your ring again, twisting his own gold band as if to ground his thoughts and remind himself that you're both taken.

When you burst into tears he freezes, his jacket left behind in his car with the handkerchief he would have given you. Luckily you pull a tissue from your purse and press it to your face.

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you," he says, softly rubbing your back.

"I'm fine," comes your muffled reply. "I just.. I'm just emotional, that's all."

"Is everything all right.. at home?" he asks, concerned by your tears. So many years in this field and he knows an unhappy wife when he sees one.

"I don't.. is it okay if I don't talk about it?" you sniffle.

"Of course. I didn't mean to pry," he assures you, his voice soothing. He keeps his hand on your back, waiting for you to let it all out.

"I'm such a fool," you manage a smile at him through your tears. "I didn't mean to blow up like that."

"It's okay," he says, dabbing at a streak of mascara you'd missed on your cheek. "My number's on the card. If you ever just want to talk, please call. I promise not to charge you," he adds with a little chuckle, hoping to lift your spirits.

"Or maybe.. you could come by for a coffee. I promise not to charge you." You give him a real, true smile.

It's almost as if you don't want to go home, but there's no reason to stay once Dave and the girls have left the shop. The drive home isn't as long, despite the traffic.

You can hear the music from the front hallway. "Moment" by Victoria Monet, the smooth bass and vocals providing an atmosphere you typically walk into when Javi's in the mood, which is often. You smile, wondering if he's expecting your arrival and setting the mood before you go out to dinner. As often as he does break his promises, he has his ways of making up for it. You open the door to your bedroom.

"Babe, I--"

You freeze into place as your world breaks wide open.

Another woman is in your bed with your husband, her body writhing on top of him.

Rooted to the spot, you watch helplessly as this happens. His hands are all over her body, he's calling her all the pet names he calls you. Mami, hermosa, carino, ven por mi.

"What the fuck??" you shout over the music, putting a stop to the extramarital fucking going on in your marriage bed. Javi and his bitch scramble to cover up. "This is the meeting you absolutely couldn't miss??" You glare daggers at the woman, who's avoiding your gaze as she hurriedly puts her skimpy dress back on. You recognize her-- Cindy, one of the bartenders at his club. "Get out of here, you slut! I don't want to see you in this house ever again!" You throw nearest thing - a bottle of perfume from your vanity - at her, narrowly missing her as Roses de Chloe crashes against the wall. Cindy manages to escape unscathed but the true target of your fury remains.

"Didn't expect you back so early, baby. I can explain," Javier says, getting his jeans back on, forgoing his underwear. But you back away before he can come near you.

"Explain?? Explain to me how you fell into your employee dick-first!"

He looks guilty for only a second, a little smile on his lips as he tries again to broach your defenses. "She means nothing to me. She's just going through a lot right now and I wanted to help her. I can't help that she came on strong." He studies you, his face a perfect facade of innocence, eyebrows slightly lifted, plush lips pouting beneath his perfectly groomed mustache.

But you know better. You shrink from him as he tries to reach out and hold you.

You're sick to your stomach over his lies, and the readiness with which you have accepted them in the past. "Don't touch me!" you shout, ready to hurl something at him. "Don't ever come near me again," you manage, right before tears spill over your eyes. Without a second thought you hurry out of the house you've shared with him for years, get into your car and drive away.

dividers by @strangergraphics & @cafekitsune👑

Taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @eviispunk @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal

@sunnytuliptime @mysticsuitcasealmondwombat

@joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove @itwasntimethatdidit40

@604to647 @milla-frenchy @everybodylovedcontractors

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Smooches

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: written in honor of the fabulous and fantastic @romanarose birthday today!!! 🎂 I would not be writing Pedro fics if it were not for their fantastic stories that got me hooked so everyone PLEASE wish our lord and Savior the bestest birthdays of all!

- - - -

Joel knew pregnancy brain was out of wack when you started slamming the table with a fork and knife at 5pm like a senior citizen demanding dinner.

"I aint got anything you aren't gonna throw up later. We're going out," he states with hands planted on his hips.

"Ooh yay!" You wiggle out of your chair and grab your purse. "Jone's steakhouse?"

"If that's what you want."

"But you have to ALSO want it. Or it feels like you don't want it and makes me feel like I'm dragging--"

"JUST. get in the car, sweetie," he grits with a fake smile, opening the door.

-

Dinner was good. Steak was solid. You complained it wasn't salty enough even after you dumped the entire shaker onto each slice. But now that both your bellies are full and satisfied, with you rubbing your exceptionally swollen one happily, the drive home was finally peaceful.

Until you kept smacking your lips. The quiet air was filled with schmockschmockschmock sounds from your beautiful but ever so annoying mouth.

Joel clears his throat but keeps his eyes forward and mouth shut. Just gotta get you into bed and it's a sold evening.

He hears you digging in your purse, scavaging deeply for--

"Oh no. Nononononono!" You shriek, hands splitting the seam of the bag open to dump out all its contents on your lap.

"What, what's wrong?"

After clearly seeing all pockets were empty, you shout, "Oh my god noooo! Oh god please don't be happening."

"What you forget your phone? Wallet?" He asks worriedly.

Instead of just outright answering him (because thats just ridiculous) you start panting heavily and tearing up. "I cant live. I need it Joel."

"Need--need what baby? Just tell me, I'll make it right."

But you're too hysterical and hyperventilating  at his brain dead question to give him the answer.

Roll with the punches, Miller. Stay calm. Resolve.

"Okay it's OK probably just sitting on the ground at the restaurant. I'm turning around, okay baby? Please calm down, we're gonna get it back."

Joel explains to the host that you just saw 15 minutes ago that his wife (he gestures to his obviously pregnant and agitated , volcanic explosion of a meltdown wife who's having a panic attack) forgot something and would like to check the table again to find it.

The host rushes the two of you back to the table to avoid mount doom from exploding.

But after thoroughly searching for something that only YOU know what is missing, absolutely nothing comes up around the table that doesn't belong to said restaurant and table.

"What did you lose?" He finally asks hesitantly. It MIGHT help to know. "Phone? Wallet?"

You take a deep breath, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blown warm and shiny with tears as the world crashes around you at the devestating realization that its GONE gone:

"My LIP MOISTURIZER!"

You slug your shoulders and tilt your head back to wail in the middle of this albeit emptying restaurant while Joel and everyone pauses to quietly stares at you.

Joel's expression with an edge of disbelief and exhaustion.

He takes you by the hand as you still cry, thanks the host with a wave and gets your fat ass in the truck.

"We got more at home... right?"

"Joel!!" You snap. "If I HAD another one, I'D BE USING IT! I wasn't finished with the last one! Everything will be wrong if I open a new one when I still has the other one every day for 6 months!"

"You've had this one chapstick since I got you pregnant?"

"LIP. MOISTURIZER." You throw yourself back into the comfy seat. "You only like kissing me when it's moist and pleasant and NOW you won't like me--"

"Babe I never even knew you had stuff on--"

"WELL NOW YOU WILL because it won't be on and everything is RUINED! I have to over compensate for your dry peely nasty crunchy flaky dead lips, but now you won't love me and our baby because I won't have silky smooth moist plushy baby girl lips and then my husband won't have juicy sucker's to suck on when we make out and get his fat cock sucked by my once pillowy beautiful lush lippy lips...!" and then you start sobbing again.

He shakes his head. "Listen, how about I get you some more first thing tomorrow morning--"

"Tonight!"

"Right, tonight. That's what I said." He gulps hard. "And uh, you'll be... coming with me?"

You slowly turn your head and narrow your eyes. He does now see the clock is 8pm, sharply past your self imposed bed time.

"I meant you'll be coming with me... as I drop you off at the house. Then I'll go back out."

You nod as if saying 'that's more like it,' before folding your arms over your chest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and internally rolls them as hard as possible.

-

The closest 24/7 general store was 10 minutes thankfully. He grabbed a handful of different flavor chapsticks and dumps them on your lap--

"Joel what the FUCK are these."

"Chap--!"

"I WANTED LIP. MOISTURIZER! NIVEA! EOS! VASELINE! NOT THIS CHEAP SHIT."

He growls--not this shit again. He has flashbacks of the taco yackies incident roll through his mind. "YOU ASKED FOR CHAPSTICK! I GOT EXACTLY THAT!"

"Chapstick is a BRAND name. This stuff makes my lips burn and feels even drier. Joel do you SEE my lips!" You point both fingers directly at your mouth and purse out. "DRY. AS. FUCK. these are NOT dick sucking lips.  They will start fucking peeling soon.  and then I don't know if I will be able to kiss my own baby's noggin when she's first born less she be DISGUSTED--"

Hes back in the car before you were even done yelling.

Back at the store. Staring at the wall of different lip care options. This is 10x worse than the tampon and pad aisle. THAT one he's a pro in. Pussy King expert for all its needs. Even shows other women that come back exactly where and what they're looking for. But this shit??

There's so many flavors. Why does the flavor matter? Cherry red, cherry blossom, cherry berry--what the fuck is the difference? One says lip moisturizer, the same one next to it says lip care, then lip cream, lip balm, lip lush, lip lotion... fuck.

He does the sensible thing: pulls one of every single item into his arms, struggling but managing to hold haphazardly close to his chest (the man doesn't get a basket for shit because he only comes on for the exact ONE thing he knows he's getting). When he hobbles to the tired cashier, he leans forwards and dumps it all the counter with a sad smile. A smile of which drops quickly when the total comes to exceed $85.

-

9:14pm. Could be worse. You're eating a bag of extra salted chips--which he suspects is only going to make the lip situation worse but whatever. One by one, he basketball chucks them into your lap. You inspect each one, scoffing at all the useless flavor ones that just don't work, until finally holding up the vanilla honey extra moistening stick. You rip it from the package, pop the lid off and slather that shit on with a orgasmic groan, rolling your eyes back as it glides over and over your lips repeatedly. You smack them to spread evenly, all shiny and pretty before nodding approval.

Joel sighs and tosses himself on the couch, head first into your lap. You rub his hair and continue watching the TV, gnawing at the chips carefully so as not to ruin your fresh lips, as he falls asleep and snores deeply.

It lasts for a minute before both you and he feel something small against his temple stir in your belly.

He sits up like rocket, and the two of you stare at one another in shock. You both slowly look down at the belly, hands crept over its rounded expanse, and wait.

Then--an almost inperceivable yet delicate tiny kick. The first one.

Neither of you have words as excitement floods your faces.

"See. Even the BABY needs the best kissy lips."

He grabs your face with both hands and smashes his lips onto yours like he's gonna suck your soul away.

When he finally pulls off with a big grin (and you thrown back against the couch with a delirious expression getting oxygen back to your brain while your pussy drips fresh juices onto the couch), he smacks his lips tastily and enjoying the soft, silky, honey sweetness of your lips.

"Oh fuck, that is good."

You grip his shirt and force him back down to make out with you again, falling sideways on the couch as you both hungrily grope each others' bodies.

-

The next day you find your brand new lip moisturizer missing. It's set in the bathroom vanity, somewhere you did NOT left it. When popping it open, it has suspicious short little whisker hairs stuck to it. You frown but plant it back where you find it, run behind the door, and wait. About 2 minutes later, Joel comes in, searches behind him around the room before sneaking the little stick off the counter and hustling to the bed. He lies on his back, pops it open, and greedily smears it all over, humming contently and whispering "mmm yeaaaahhhh" before smacking his lips and pursing them out.

You fall over giggling in the bathroom at his new found guilty pleasure.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[ladykissingfish]

Tobirama: Well, I have to once again say that I'm deeply surprised that you chose to accompany me today, Madara. Nevertheless I am ... grateful, for your help. Madara: Don't get the idea that this means I like you or anything, Senju. I still hate your guts. BUT this is your first Valentine's Day with my baby brother. It's his first major holiday with a romantic partner, and he's hyped it up so much in his head. I want to be absolutely certain that you get him the right gifts. Tobirama: Mm. *he turns as they head into a flower shop* Now, what sort of scents does your brother enjoy? Madara: I happen to know he's very fond of sunflowers. Tobirama: Sunflowers? I was going to get roses; aren't they the more traditional choice for a day such as this? Madara: Oi, who's known him longer, here? Are you going to trust me or what?? Tobirama: *sighs* Very well ... *picks out a large bouquet of sunflowers and goes to pay the florist* *the two head into a small gift shop next* Tobirama: Okay, a small stuffed animal to accompany his flowers. What's his favorite animal? Madara: *points* That one. Tobirama: An ... an elephant? Are you certain? Madara: Trust me; he'll go crazy over it! Tobirama: Okay .. *he pays and the two go into a sweets shop( Tobirama: Alright, now for the candy. Let me guess; your brother is a chocolate-lover? Madara: Actually, Izuna goes more towards the sour gummy candies. The sourer the better. Tobirama: Really? Well that's certainly unexpected ... *buys the candy and the two leave the shop* Tobirama: Well I guess that's everything. Thank you again for your help. Madara: *pats Tobirama on the shoulder* Anything to ensure my little brother is happy. Good luck tonight. *Madara watches Tobirama walk off just as Hashirama walks up to him* Hashirama: Hey, babe ... *kisses Madara's cheek* We still on for dinner tonight? Madara: Of course. I've got reservations at Konoha's finest steakhouse; I know what my baby likes. Hashirama: I can't wait. And speaking of likes, thank you so very much for helping my brother pick out gifts for Izuna. I know it means a lot to him. Madara: Mm. Hashirama: So what did he get him? Madara: A big bouquet of sunflowers, some sour gummy candies, and a stuffed elephant. Hashirama: Hashirama: Madara. Didn't you tell me once that you and Izuna visited a zoo, and Izuna was absolutely terrified of the elephants? Madara: Yes. Hashirama: And that one time we all tried different candies together. Izuna practically threw up after eating the sour ones. Madara: Yes. Hashirama: And ... and don't sunflowers make him break out in hives?? Madara: Yes, they do. Hashirama: Hashirama: So ... you sabotaged Tobirama on purpose? Madara: Yes. Hashirama: Hashirama: Would ... would you judge me if I said that you doing such an evil thing is kind of a turn-on for me? Madara: *puts his arms around Hashirama's waist* No. I told you, I know what my baby likes. Hashirama, sighing: We both need therapy.

[notbecauseofvictories]

Hi Sarah, I'm going to visit Chicago in a couple of weeks and when I think of Chicago I think of you. What would you recommend I visit/do?

Unfortunately, Chicago is not its best self for a couple months---while I maintain that the city is for all seasons, summer is undoubtedly when it's most alive. However, there are a couple things I will definitely recommend for the unseasonably warm spring traveler:

(1) Eat some food

A friendly word of warning: do not be tricked into eating Giordano's or Lou Malnotti's. Perhaps your companions might try to win you over with promises of Chicago-style hotdogs---do not be swayed! You must manfully resist! (Harold's Chicken is that good though, and if you're close to the one in Hyde Park, feel free to devour the three piece dinner of your choice. Cheap bottle of the too-sweet wine I preferred as an undergrad optional.)

A much better option is to find a place that serves whatever food you love, but does it really really well.

Do you like sophisticated twists on a brewpub menu? Try Moody Tongue in the South Loop

Or are you really more of a tapas person? Highly recommend mfk in Lincoln Park

Would you prefer something a little....meatier? My favorite steakhouse in Chicago is Tango Sur (though I would argue their empanadas are really the showstopper)

There's nowhere in the city that does Hong Kong-style barbecue like Sun Wah in Uptown---I just stopped by after the parade for the Lunar New Year, the duck is to die for.

Are you on the West Side? First of all, do not go to Big Star. I mean, it's fine, but....come on. I'd pick Forbidden Root instead, or head over to Pilsen for Rubi's if you can't survive without tacos.

There are so, so many different bars I would recommend. Chicago was the home of bootleggers for a reason, goddamn it. Still, if you can't get to Wang's (look, I like Violet Hour too, but sometimes you don't want to drink in near-darkness), Koval (the rare distillery in Chicago), or any of the many, many craft breweries we have in the city right now, you probably can stop by one of the many, many, many bars we have in Chicago, and get a drink anyway.

There are more---of course there are more!---but we don't have all day. So instead I will leave you with this bit of wisdom: don't eat at Navy Pier or anywhere too close to Lincoln Park Zoo. If you are at a bar, don't settle for a burger when sometimes, the chicken tenders are actually better. And if you absolutely must go somewhere for pizza, choose Pequod's.

(2) See a thing

Chicago has many things in it! So many things! A hundred thousand things! Unfortunately, I don't know what you're into, so I will just talk about them in general.

MUSEUMS: I am a devoted museum-goer, and Chicago has blessed me with an endless feast. There are the big ones, of course---the Field Museum of Natural History, the Adler Planetarium, the Shedd Aquarium, the Museum of Science and Industry, the Art Institute of Chicago. However, my favorites are smaller, more unique: the International Museum of Surgical Sciences, Intuit (though it's temporarily closed, more's the pity), the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at UChicago, the Lincoln Park Conservatory. That's not even all the museums in Chicago! That's not even all the museums that I've been to. It's amazing.

EVENTS: I once joked that I was a person who needed to schedule her enrichment like a blue-haired senior, but the joke was on me---I am that person! Fortunately, Chicago supports me in this endeavor by publishing many, many different calendars of "what to do this week or weekend". Do you want to see something onstage? Well, here you go. How about some classical music? I have a trusty guide. What about non-classical music? Always go to the Chicago Reader for that. Are you thinking of catching a game? Well, we're still in spring training for the Cubs and Sox, but the Bulls are doing okay even if the Blackhawks aren't, and we've got soccer (male and female) now too!

(Unfortunately, the Chicago Sky aren't playing right now, they're my favorites.)

OTHER: Unless you are extremely efficient, coming here and eating good food, doing one other thing, is more than enough. I promise it is! However, if you have more time, I definitely recommend just---wandering around. The Loop in particular is great for this, because it's reasonably small and everyone there is busy doing things. Going places, talking on phones, getting into or out of ubers, protesting outside of the Daley center, etc. etc. It's amazing to watch, and the buildings are pretty neat too.

Or you could wait a couple months, and take the Chicago Architecture Boat Tour, which I think should be a requirement for all Chicagoans. Maybe even everyone alive in the world. Just saying.

(3) Walk along the lakeshore

Chicago offers many delights, but I really do believe that Lake Michigan and its vast expanse of water, sky and space, is a unique gift to the city. It is beautiful in winter, in spring, in storms, in sun. It is free. You can sit in the grass or the sand or amble along its broad paths for miles, looking at unexpected art installations and waving grasses and the way the beaches slope to the water; you can talk to a friend or watch bikers and joggers pass you by. In the summer, there are a dozen different stands offering warm elote or cold soda, and cheerful men on jingling bike carts that will sell you neon orange push pops. In the winter, there are still bikers and joggers but also Canada geese, and you can stare mournfully at the slate grey water and ponder existence.

It is the heart of Chicago. Nelson Algren called us an "October city, even in summer"; Carl Sandburg described us as a shirtless dude who gives great oral. Personally, I think of Montrose Beach in the setting sun of winter, the sand almost too cold to touch---and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking a server if I could keep a platter?

So at Outback Steakhouse they serve you bread on these nice little wooden platters that have a hole in them to hold the ramekin of butter. I cook a lot and I thought it would be really nice to have as a cutting board especially because the hole would be convenient to push the scraps into. When we (a friend and I) were done with the meal I asked the server if I could keep the platter. I fully expected there to be a charge added to my check for it. But he said he'd go get me a clean one and I wasn't charged for it at all, so I left him a nice tip.

I told this story to my mom when I got home, and she told me - as a server herself - that I had been a karen for doing this. She started telling me how she hates it when customers ask for things like that and so do all the other servers she knows, and that the only reason the server did this favor for me was because it's probably the restaurant's policy to give them to whoever asks.

I'm really confused as to how this makes me a karen because while I'm sure some people are rude and entitled about this, I wasn't! I asked a simple question and I would NOT have pushed it if the server said no, and not only that but he went out of his way to go get me a clean one when I didn't even ask for one, I could just have put the one from the table into the to-go bag or something. When I told my mom that, she said that he went out of his way because he was hoping for a tip. Which I literally did give him! I asked if it came out of the server's paycheck and she said no, so I asked why did it matter and she just continued to act like grabbing a platter was a crazy amount of extra grueling work for a server to be forced to do. She kept saying "they HAVE to do it and they're just HOPING for a good tip and most of the time they don't get it." Like something being slightly out of the realm of typical customer requests is just automatically horrible. She brought up how one of her coworkers was asked by some old lady if she could get a bone for her dog, and the coworker went digging through the trash for one. I then brought up that that is a COMPLETELY different situation, bc my server was able to walk to a nearby, designated area for these platters and get it back to me in like 30 seconds. But my mom kept saying no, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it's the same.

She insisted that I should not have asked for the platter, basically told me to shut up and that she' has seniority's automatically right because she has experience as a server and therefore she knows for a fact that ANY server would think I was annoying and rude. I really don't think I did anything wrong at all but it's true that I've never been a server, so I don't know how universal my mom's opinion on this is. Was I a Karen(asshole)?

What are these acronyms?

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.215 Family fun day

After the toast, we got up and sang Froodage Lang Syne. Desi didn't know the words, but she sure sang her little heart out. She's so adorable. We hugged, said goodbye to the O'Keefes, and headed back home to watch the pre-countdown show. I was exhausted and really wanted to take a nap, but knew if I went to sleep, I'd be done for. So, I stood and watched, thinking that would reduce my chances of falling asleep. Sophia and Desiree enjoyed the show, laughing at all the silly characters dancing in costume. At least, in my drowsy state, it seemed silly to me. Finally, it was time for the countdown, and I was so glad. I could almost feel the cool sheets brushing against my skin, ha.

In the morning, I awoke rather early, refreshed and thankful for another year and excited about this next chapter of our lives. Tomorrow, Desiree begins school, and Sophia and I will have to figure out what to do with ourselves while she's gone. But that is a thought for another day because I had plans for Desi and was eager to get started. I went to her room and checked in on her like I used to do when she was a baby, and just like then, she was already wide awake and ready to get at it.

"Good morning, sweetie," I said.

"Daddy, your breath stinks!"

"Oh yeah??"

I gave her more kisses as she tried to pull away from me. Eventually I got her giggling.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Pancakes!"

"Auntie Less used to love pancakes too! Are you gonna help me this time?"

She giggled some more and nodded, so we went downstairs. I opened the fridge to gather the ingredients, only to find absolutely nothing. The thing was empty. Like, literally empty. No water, no milk, not even a half eaten plate of leftovers. I couldn't remember the last time I made a grocery order, and that scene definitely confirmed it.

"I guess we're gonna have to go get some pancakes then," I said.

Honestly, that was a better idea, anyway. Going out to eat is always fun, and I want Desi to have as much fun as possible today. I called Less to see if she and the nibblings wanted to come with us, and we met at the steakhouse in Oasis Springs.

The host had a much better attitude this time and sat us in the party room on the balcony. Sophia and Less gabbed, and it warmed my heart so much to think about how their relationship started. Alessia was so mean to her for no reason other than being selfish. Maybe their shared experience softened her up, but whatever it is, I'm just glad she let Sophia in. Desi and Arvin left to go play with her soccer ball; hopefully they went outside. I don't need that host changing her mind about us. With half the table preoccupied, I asked Lex and Breanna what they looked forward at school. Lex wants to make friends, and Bre wants to play pranks.

I didn't really like that answer, but you know what? Not my kid, not my problem. I'm trying to be mindful of how I react because of my missteps yesterday. I want to be a good parent and seize all the teaching moments so my kid turns out to be the envy of all, heh. But, I also need to learn to choose my battles, and this one is definitely not it. Desi and Arvin came back just before the food came out, so I asked her the same question. Like Lex, she's also looking forward to making friends and playing with Savannah.

After breakfast, we took the kids to the park in Yasmine's neighborhood. I called her and said we were out there, and if she were comfortable, her girls could come play if they want. She appreciated the invite but declined, just like I thought she would. I thought the kids would enjoy playing in the jungle gym and monkey bars, but they just stood around and talked, so we joined them. When it comes to my niece and nephews, Sophia usually leaves them to me. She rarely talks to them, but this time she opted to chat up Breanna and Arvin. At some point, she noticed Lex had been left out of all the conversations. His siblings seem to favor each other, and Less and Desi have the cutest relationship, so she went to go chat with Lex. I thought that was really sweet of her.

Alessia's phone buzzed, and she grinned as she replied to a text. What's this?! Has she finally got back into the dating pool? I wanted to ask about this mystery person sooooo bad, but it's not something we should discuss in front of the kids, so I left it alone.

The afternoon got away from us, so I told Less we were going to head home. Yoga wasn't the only thing I wanted to do with Desi. Someone had given her a bike for her birthday, and it was high time she learned to ride that thing.

She seemed excited at first, but once she sat on it and put the helmet on, everything changed.

"I don't wanna do it," she whined.

"Why not?" I asked. "It's gonna be so much fun when you get the hang of it."

"I'm scared!"

"It's okay, Desi. You don't have to pedal yet. Just kinda walk it with your feet so you can learn to keep your balance."

"But what if I fall?"

"You won't. Your feet will never leave the ground."

"Okay."

She walked the bike in circles in front of us, very slow and careful. She didn't fall or trip or whatever she thought would happen, and when she had enough, she hopped off with a smile on her face. The situation reminded me so much of when she was learning to sit up. She was so concerned at first, but we kept at it. She stayed strong and pressed through. Eventually she did it, and she was so proud of herself. This will be just like that.

[speedycoffeedelight]

Hello! I've returned with more 'Reader helps get everyone a job' scenarios! And this time, not anon ✨️

Also, so happy to see you referenced my first ask, really made my day!

Anyway, scenarios begin.

~

Reader: Velvette, this is the second job you've been fired from since you got here. There isn't exactly many clothing store in town and if you keep getting fired, you'll be deemed 'unhireable'.

Velvette: *Rolling her eyes on her phone* I don't see why you're so bothered by that, I'm already a small time influencer and with the way I'm manipulating the algorithm, I'll be monetised in no time. Besides, the clothes they sold there weren't even good enough for a dumpster fire.

Reader: Anyway... There's atleast 2 more clothing stores available before we have to start looking elsewhere, a sports clothes store and a thrift shop.

Velvette: Pfft, thrift shop? You can't in your right mind think I'd be touching second han- wait. *Types on her phone* Thifting is in, sign me up! And then call Princess in here, her little lamb form is guaranteed to get me more likes then that bitch Geraldine's yappy mutt in socks and sunglasses.

~

Reader: Lute, I don't mean to be insulting or anything but I'm not sure if you could handle being a supermarket security guard. It can be a very dangerous job.

Lute: I understand you're concerns but allow me to lay them to rest with a quick demonstration of my capabilities.

*Lute quickly tackles Sir Pentious to the ground and pins him as he shouts a quick 'Why me?!'*

~

Adam: Listen Babe, I don't see what the issue is.

Reader: Adam, the bar is looking for a live band to there regularly, not a solo guitarist. Now I'm sure you are a wonderful singer-songwriter but they're not looking for a solo musician.

Adam: *Crossing arms* Fine. What other jobs are there.

Reader: Plenty, and almost all of them are places we've already got someone in so they can recommend you and you're pretty much guaranteed to be hired.

Adam: Okay Babe, fire away.

Reader: Well, the local cafés looking for another waiter (Charlies workplace).

Adam: Uh, pass.

Reader: The fast food joint needs another cashier. (Vaggies workplace)

Adam: Next.

Reader: The restaurant-dinner is willing to train up a sous-chef with no prior experience or qualifications (Angels/Husks workplace).

Adam: Eh, I don't cook.

Reader: The council is hiring more trash collectors, it sounds bad but has incredibly good pay (Niftys workplace).

Adam: As much as I'm down for driving a massive truck, somethings telling me to stay away from that little freak. She might stab me in the back or something.

Reader: You also don't have a driving license. Anyway, the radio station is hiring a files clerk (Alastors workplace).

Adam: They play rock or metal?

Alastor: *From another room* Nope!

Adam: Then, nah.

Reader: *Muttering to self* And I don't think you can work for the mechanics without a driving license either (Cherris workplace).

Reader: The florist is hiring. (Lucifers workplace).

Adam: *Fake gags*

Reader: What about working at that bowling alley and arcade pizzeria? (Voxs workplace)

Adam: *Sticks out tongue*

Reader: The clothing store? (Velvettes workplace)

Adam: *Raises eyebrow*

Reader: The local supermarket? (Lutes workplace)

Adam: *Pours slightly*

Reader: *Sighs and starts rubbing temple* Well, the only other places available is the post office and that steakhouse on the outskirts of town.

Adam: Steakhouse? Now that's what I'm talking about! Sign me up straight away.

Reader: I thought you said you don't cook.

Adam: Listen Babe, it's grilling, not cooking. Big difference. Besides, I literally invented the grill, you know? It's like 1 of the top 5 best ideas I ever had, you know, right next to naming a bunch of birds 'tits'.

Reader: You invented the grill? That's actually kinda impressive.

Lucifer: Don't flatter him, love. He had to invent a whole new way of cooking meat or else he'd have starved everytime Eve made him sleep on the coach.

Adam: HEY!

HEYYY!! Good to see you back again!! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

Yeah , velvette gonna be a real bitch(HAH-) working at stores. She won't settle for anything that's not up to her taste.

* Reader sighing in the corner trying to find more shops.*

Poor Pentious, he had to be the example 🤣🤣

*the cast and reader giving Pentious concerned glances*

And there's Adam, the first man who can't settle on one job( just like girls- *gets shot in the head*). I can definitely see him inventing grilling like this 😂😂

Thank you yet again for your creative and unique headcannons! I truly enjoy reading them!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

[queenofbaws]

! Pride Month Challenge 2024 !

Well hi there, everyone! With May winding down to a close and June just around the corner, it's about that time again...the time where @jadedsunshine, @unicornaffair, and I host our yearly create-a-thon! 🥳

What's the Pride Month Challenge, you might find yourself asking? Well, this year it's a little bingo game we've put together, featuring some classic tropes. The aim of this particular game? Make something!!! Anything! Just get those creative juices a-flowin' and see if you can snag a B-I-N-G-O along the way!

This challenge is open to everyone and anyone who wants to take part, whether you know the three of us or not! We're going to be using the tag #pridemonthchallenge2024 for the stuff we create, so if you decide to join in on the fun and games, feel free to stick that tag on whatever you make, too! If you're interested in more details, you can check below the cut or reach out and ask ;)c

Either way, happy almost-pride, and happy creating!!!

I don't write fic - can I still participate?

Ab. So. Lutely!!! We've done this challenge for a few years now (we've missed a year or two for weddings and other life stuff, whoops!), but in the past we've had people doodle, sketch, draw, make edits, create props or other physical art, and even curate playlists! The three of us are writers, so you're very likely to see fic or ficlets from us...but you? Oh. Oh, you can do whatever your heart desires!!!

Are there word limits/expectations for a finished product?

NO!!! :D Zero. Literally zero expectations. We aren't putting together an exchange, we aren't holding a competition, we're just trying to get the spirit of creation in the air. That's it! So whether you're writing 50 words or 5,000, whether you've made a rough sketch on a notebook page or fully lined/colored a scene, you're good! You're so good. As long as you've made something, you've earned a stamp on that bingo card, baby!!!

What if I don't want to do something fandom-y? Can it be OCs/original work?

OF COURSE!!! 100%. You don't even have to ask!!! Show the world your OCs! Tell the world about your story's worldbuilding! It's all fair game :)

What if I don't want to post what I made?

Don't sweat it! Again, this is...the farthest thing from official. This is for fun, and this is for the sake of making something. Sharing your work can be nerve-wracking - don't feel like you have to! We'd love to see you playing along with us, of course, but as long as you've made something that you're proud of, you've earned that stamp! No ifs, ands, or buts!

Is it cool if my creations aren't necessarily pride-themed?

Totally! We host this challenge during pride month because (1) it traditionally works better for the three of us than NaNoWriMo because of our schedules, and (2) we're queer creators ourselves! But if you're feeling a prompt and can't find a way to make it relevant to pride, PLEASE don't sweat it! As I've been known to say (and then get laughed at for saying), this challenge is no rules, just right, Outback Steakhouse :P

Let's say I get a bingo...what do I win?

:) Nothing. <3

Wait, really?

:) Really <3 Hehehe, in all seriousness, this challenge has been a fun way for us to sit down, take our minds off of life and our bigger projects and just...make some fun stuff! In our humble opinion(s), being able to point at a finished piece and say "I did that! I made that!" is its own kind of reward. The bingo board itself is really more for bragging rights ;)c Which, of course, we encourage wholeheartedly. Nothing wrong with a little bragging!!!

We hope to have you along for our month-long adventure! Again, we're going to be using the tag #pridemonthchallenge2024 for our own stuff, so if you'd like to use that tag - or tag any of us!!! - in whatever you end up creating, feel free!!! We love seeing what everyone comes up with, and this challenge is always so much more fun, knowing other people are taking part! <3 Hope to see you along for the ride!

*The bingo board was made by the lovely @jadedsunshine 🥰

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Sweet on You, Chapter 4

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: HERE

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, Idiots to Lovers, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N, Fake dating (sort of)

Word Count: ~2500

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has liked and reblogged/commented thus far! Enjoy Matt and Reader's first official "not"-date!

As always, if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

Tag List (struck-through blogs could not be tagged): @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast @peachy-flxwr @sleepysleepymom @fishinsuits @milkbummm @lazyxsquirrel @beezusvreeland @caughtthefever @bohemianrhapsody86 @yarrystyleeza @indestructeible @pepperthebi-spy

Divider by the always amazing @theradioactivespidergwen!

You were quiet as you and Matt headed towards the restaurant he had chosen for dinner, your mind still processing the contract as you walked. 

To be honest, you hadn't expected the terms of the agreement to be quite so fair and even, and you definitely hadn't expected the increase in the amount of money Matt would be giving you per month. 

Just from the little bit of time you had spent with him you could tell that he was honest, fair, and kind, and you couldn't help but wonder if maybe the reason Matt was paying you more was because you had told him about having joined S&S in order to help your mother with her medical bills, rather than his given reason of simply feeling that your time was worth more than the amount you had originally agreed upon due to what was being requested of you. 

You mentally shook your head. No matter the reason, you were touched by Matt's fairness and generosity and were feeling better about having accepted his offer.

Matt slowed as the two of you approached Okinawa, a Japanese steakhouse where you sometimes picked up lunch for the partners. “We're here.”

He held the door open for you. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you.” You stepped inside.

“Good evening,” the seating hostess said. 

“Hi,” Matt replied. “We have a reservation for 6 o’clock under ‘Murdock’.”

The hostess tapped at the tablet in front of her. “Yes, of course. Right this way.”

She led the two of you to a quiet table in the corner. “Here you go. Your server will be right with you.”

You took your coat off and draped it across the back of your chair, pleasantly surprised when Matt pulled your chair out for you. “Thank you.”

Matt took his own coat off and folded his cane, putting it in his jacket pocket before sitting across from you. “You're welcome.”

You cleared your throat. “So, how was your day today? Do any interesting lawyer stuff?"

Matt chuckled. “Depends on what you'd consider ‘interesting’. I mostly did paperwork -- briefings, evidence review, stuff like that, although I did meet with a few clients. What about you? How was your day?”

You shrugged. You weren't going to complain about your job, especially since this was your and Matt's first dinner together. “It was busy, but fine. Made the day go by faster.”

Matt nodded. “That's good at least.”

“Yeah.”

Your conversation paused as your server stepped up to your table. “Good evening, and welcome to Okinawa. My name is Katie and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink?”

Matt said your name. “Would you like to go first?”

“Oh.” You quickly glanced at the wine list that was on the table. “Um, yes, I’d like a glass of rosé, if you don't mind.”

Katie nodded. “Of course, ma'am. And for you, sir?”

Matt turned his face towards her. “Can I get a Sapporo, please?”

“Yes, sir. I'll get those drinks for you right away.”

You flipped open your menu as Katie left to go get your and Matt's drinks, inwardly gawking at the prices of the entreés. Maybe I can make do with a side salad for dinner. Or soup. Or a single piece of sashimi.

Matt seemed to be able to sense your panic, because he smiled gently at you. “Order whatever you’d like. It's on me, remember?” 

You took a breath and nodded. “Right, okay.”

Katie returned with your drinks. “Alright, would you like any sushi or appetizers to get started?”

You shook your head. You would've loved to try some sushi and there were a few appetizers on the menu that looked interesting, but even though Matt had said to order whatever you wanted you didn't want to push it. “No thank you.”

Matt tilted his head curiously. “You sure?”

You glanced down at the table. Matt's focus was piercing, as if he could sense that you weren’t being truthful. “I'm sure.”

“Okay then. I'm good as well.”

Katie clicked her pen. “Do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu?”

Matt shook his head. “I'm ready if you are.”

You nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Katie turned to you. “What can I get for you, ma'am?”

“Can I get…” You quickly scanned the menu and named something that sounded good but didn't cost an arm and a leg.

“Absolutely.” Katie wrote down your order before turning towards Matt. “And for you, sir?”

“I'd like the tuna steak, cooked medium.” Matt picked up his menu and handed it to Katie. “Thank you.”

Katie picked up your menu as well. “I'll get those right out for you.”

“So do you come here often?” you asked as Katie went to put in your orders.

Matt shook his head. “Not very. I mostly do takeout from the more casual places near my apartment, but since this is near the office my partners and I sometimes grab lunch from here, or we'll order in dinner if we're working late. What about you? Have you ever been here?”

You took a sip of your wine before answering. “I've picked up sushi from here for my boss and his colleagues, but I've never actually eaten here myself.”

Matt nodded. “The sushi's actually really good here. Maybe we can come back for lunch one day soon, sit at the sushi bar or a hibachi table.”

You glanced over at the hibachi tables as one of the chefs lit an onion volcano on fire to the delight of the people sitting there. “That would be nice.” If I get a proper lunch break ever again.

“I did think about booking us seats at a hibachi table for tonight, but then figured that something quieter and more intimate would be more appropriate for our first dinner together.” Matt waved a hand around the otherwise-quiet restaurant. “You know, in case we needed to discuss private matters regarding our arrangement.”

You nodded. In all honesty, you were glad Matt hadn't booked a hibachi table -- considering how much he was paying you just for your presence and how expensive the regular menu items were, you couldn't justify making him pay for a full hibachi dinner. “Right, of course.”

Matt took another sip of his beer. “Oh, I meant to ask you, how was lunch with your mom yesterday?”

You smiled. “It was nice. She and I made stir-fried noodles with homemade spring rolls.”

“Oh, that sounds great.”

You nodded. “It was. Mom and I both decided it was a keeper.”

“Do the two of you cook together a lot?”

“We used to before Mom got sick, but since she's been feeling better I think we might start up again.” You took another sip of your wine. “What about you, do you like to cook?”

Matt shook his head. “I don't really have time with my busy schedule. I'm either working or… well, working.”

You huffed out a light laugh. “No wonder you don't have time to date.”

Matt chuckled. “That's why I'm lucky that my best friends are also my business partners. I at least get to spend time with them, even if it's at work.”

Your conversation paused once again as Katie brought your dinners. After she had made sure that the two of you didn't need anything and left once again, you continued. “So how did you and your partners meet?”

Matt nodded. “Foggy and I were paired up as roommates our first year of college and quickly became friends, then once we graduated with our law degrees we decided to open our own firm together. Karen, our other partner, was actually our office assistant when Foggy and I first started the firm but eventually she earned her law degree and joined us as a partner.”

“Oh wow, that's so cool. No wonder the three of you are so close.” 

Matt cut into his fish. “We've gone through a lot of tough times together but we made it out in the end.”

You took a bite of your own dinner. “Mmm. Oh, wow.”

Matt smiled at you. “Good?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it's excellent.”

“Good.”

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, Katie only interrupting once mid-meal in order to check on you.

Once you were both finished, Katie came up once again. “Can I interest you in any dessert tonight?”

You hesitated. You definitely felt like you could go for something sweet but you already felt like dinner was costing Matt enough. “I'm --”

“--Actually, yeah,” Matt said before you could wind up saying ‘I’m good, thanks’ . “Can we see the dessert menu, please?”

“Certainly,” Katie replied. “I'll be right back.”

She quickly went to grab a menu, then handed it to Matt. “Here you go. I'll be back in just a few minutes.”

Matt handed the menu to you as she left once again. “Is there anything that strikes your fancy?”

You glanced over it. “Actually, I think I could go for some ice cream.” Besides the fact that it was the cheapest dessert on the menu, after the day you'd had (with the past couple of hours excluded) you definitely needed ice cream, a hot shower, and some sleep -- in that order.

Matt nodded. “You know, actually, that sounds great. What flavors do they have?”

You looked down at the menu. “Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, green tea, and red bean.”

“Okay.”

Katie came back. “Decided on anything?”

“Actually, yes.” Matt gave her his ice cream order. 

You smiled. That was the flavor you had wanted as well. “Make that two, please.”

Katie picked up the menu. “Okay, I'll be right back with that.”

“By the way,” you said as she left to go put in your dessert order. “I’ve had a really nice time tonight. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Yeah, same,” Matt replied. “On both counts.”

Katie soon returned with your ice cream and so you and Matt lapsed into comfortable silence once again.

After the two of you had finished and Matt had taken care of the bill, you both stood and put your coats back on.

Matt walked around the table, one hand trailing along the top in order to guide him.

He stopped beside you and unfolded his cane. “Ready to head out?”

You nodded. “Mmhmm. I'm ready.”

“Um, I might need you to guide me outside if that's okay.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Matt gently took your elbow and you guided him back towards the front of the restaurant, stopping briefly to thank both Katie and the seating hostess before exiting the building.

Once you were back outside, Matt let go of your elbow. “Thanks. I've got it from here.”

You nodded. “No problem. I'm happy to help guide you whenever you need me to -- consider it part of the service.”

Matt chuckled. “Noted.”

“Are you heading home?”

Matt shook his head and pointed back towards the direction you had come. “I have a few more things I need to wrap up before I call it a night, so I'm heading back to the office.”

“Oh, okay. I'm actually headed in the opposite direction, so yeah, just let me know when you want to get together again and I'll…see you then?”

Matt nodded. “Oh, about that. I was actually thinking Thursday evening, if that works for you.”

You mentally ran through your schedule. You didn't think any of the partners had a late meeting that you'd need to stick around for that day, so… “Yeah, that should work.”

“Great. I'll text you on Wednesday to confirm.” Matt paused. “I’m thinking we could try to keep on a regular dinner schedule of Monday and Thursday just for simplicity’s sake, but I'll let you know as soon as possible if I ever need to reschedule because of work or anything.”

“That sounds good.”

“And I'll give you as much of a notice as possible on any other potential non-work-related outings, which’ll all likely be on the weekends given both of our work schedules.”

You nodded. Besides your weekly visits with your mom your weekends were usually pretty open otherwise. “Okay. So I'll see you on Thursday then?” 

“Yeah. See you Thursday.” 

“Goodnight, Matt.”

“Goodnight.”

You turned and headed towards your apartment. 

You couldn't deny that Matt was attractive, and on top of that he was also sweet and attentive. Hanging out with him definitely isn't going to be a chore.

Matt headed back towards Nelson, Murdock, & Page until you were sufficiently far enough away to where he wouldn't catch up with you, then he doubled back to head home to his apartment. While he had wanted to do the gentlemanly thing and offer to walk you home, he hadn't wanted you to feel pressured to say yes, so instead he told you that he was heading back to the office.

Even though you had said that Matt was easy to talk to, he felt like you had been holding back from him. There had been times during your dinner together when you hadn't been entirely truthful -- the first time being when Matt had asked you how your day had been.

You had said that it had been fine, but the slight tension in your shoulders and the stress in your voice had told Matt otherwise. Either it had been busier than you had let on or something had happened at work to upset you, but either way you clearly hadn't wanted to talk about it.

The second time was when you had been looking at the menu. Matt had purposely chosen Okinawa because not only was it close to the office, but also because the two of you were celebrating the official start of your arrangement.

(And okay, maybe deep down Matt wanted to impress you just a tiny bit.)

He knew the place wasn't cheap -- he, Foggy, and Karen had only started eating there after Nelson, Murdock, and Page had retained enough high-profile clients for them to each earn comfortable livings while still being able to do the pro bono work they were passionate about -- and even then they only ate there on special occasions.

But despite Matt's reassurance that you order whatever you wanted, you had still declined ordering any sushi or appetizers even though you had spent several minutes reading over them, and -- if Matt’s memory served him correctly -- had ordered one of the cheapest entreés on the menu that wasn't a tasting plate.

(Not that there was anything wrong with what you did or didn't order -- Matt just had the feeling that you were uncomfortable with spending more of his money than what you thought you could or should.)

Luckily you had enjoyed your meal and had at least been willing to order the ice cream you had wanted for dessert -- even though it had been at Matt's prompting. I should probably take her somewhere less opulent on Thursday so she feels more comfortable.

He shook his head. He’d worry about that later -- he was going out on patrol once he showered and changed and needed to get into his Daredevil mindset. No distractions. That's the whole point of this arrangement.

[karizard-ao3]

Read the deleted scenes from the one million words livestream!

Hello everyone! I received a request to post the deleted scenes I read during my one million words live stream on Tumblr, which is an excellent idea and so here they are! They are available below the break.

(Please note this is just the text of the deleted scenes. In the livestream I gave a quick little background explanation for each scene and also had fun facts about my fics and the writing process on a slideshow that ran while I read. You don't need that info to enjoy these scenes, but just to let you know that there is more in the video if it is of interest to you.)

Feel free to ask me questions about the deleted scenes as well! Keep in mind they are copy-pasted directly from my drafts and might have weird formatting or other errors because they were not edited.

Here we go!

Clueless Teens

Connie’s birthday party, Eren gives Armin romantic advice

Armin sat between Eren and Mikasa, wringing his hands as he watched Annie and Sandra chatting together, even going so far as to  share a plate of chips.

"I can't believe they know each other," Armin groaned.

"What's wrong with that?" asked Eren. 

Armin sighed. "I'm afraid I'm going to break up their friendship."

Eren cocked his head. "Why?"

"Because if they start fighting over me," said Armin fretfully.

"Oh," said Mikasa, rubbing his back. "I think you're giving yourself too much credit."

Armin gave her a wounded look. "Why is it so hard to believe two girls might fight over me?"

"Because Annie doesn't want a boyfriend and Sandra only just met you," said Mikasa, soothingly. "I'm sure you could have a very ugly love triangle under different circumstances."

"Thanks," said Armin.

"You should just tell Sandra you used to like Annie," said Mikasa. 

"But what would I say?" asked Armin.

"I don't know," said Mikasa.

"'Hey, Sandra. I just wanted to let you know that I used to be so in love with Annie that I almost broke my friend's nose at Outback Steakhouse just for a chance to get rejected by her," suggested Eren.

Armin glared at him. "Stop bringing that up."

Eren shrugged. "Okay, then just be like, 'I just wanted to let you know that I used to have a bit of a thing for Annie, but it's over now. I didn't want you to find out from someone else.'"

Armin gawped at him. 

"What?" said Eren, bristling. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," said Armin, sounding shocked. "That's actually really good."

"Don't look so surprised," grumbled Eren. "I'm not completely useless."

Mikasa makes a scene in history

Like, one time in History class a guy had said that women didn’t make it into the history books because they didn’t do anything worth remembering. Mikasa had stood up and chucked her textbook right at his head. 

“Ow, what the fuck, you crazy bitch?” he’d demanded, jumping out of his chair to face off against her. Eren had stood up also, ready to jump in if she needed backup. 

“Just forget about it,” Mikasa snapped. “After all, I’m only a woman. Just like Joan of Arc or Marie Curie or Mary Shelley or Cleopatra or Harriet Tubman. We’re all just a bunch of boring women who haven’t done anything worth remembering, right?”

“Shut up,” said the guy, rubbing his head. “They don’t count.”

“You don’t count,” Mikasa had hissed. “You fucking nobody.”

Mr. Smith put a hand on her arm. “I appreciate your passion but you are going to have to go see the dean now, Miss Ackerman.”

She’d flounced out of the room, and the only reason she didn’t get suspended or moved to a different class was because the principal, for some reason, had intervened.

Deleted Relationship Reveal Scene

“So are Eren and Mikasa going out now?” asked Connie, sitting next to Sasha and eating a croissant sandwich. 

“I’m not sure,” said Sasha, eyeing Connie’s breakfast lustfully. “She changed her relationship status, but he didn’t.”

“Maybe she got with Porco after all,” said Connie, taking a sip of chocolate milk.

“Who got with Porco?” asked Annie, striding up with a coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other. Sasha licked her lips, pointedly staring at the bagel, but Annie just scooted away and sat on the other side of Connie. 

“Mikasa,” said Connie. “She changed her relationship status but Eren didn’t.”

Annie frowned as she considered this. “Where is Mikasa? Isn’t she usually here already?”

“Yeah,” said Sasha. “Eren, too.”

“And Armin,” said Connie, helpfully.

Annie winced at the sound of his name and pulled her phone out of her pocket, dialing Mikasa’s number. “Hey,” she said, when Mikasa picked up. “Where are you?”

“I’m almost at school,” said Mikasa.

“Is Eren with her?” asked Connie.

“Is Eren with you?” asked Annie, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m with my boyfriend,” Mikasa said, cheerfully and unhelpfully. 

“That wasn’t what I asked,” said Annie.

“Oh, we’re at the gates. See you soon!” said Mikasa, hanging up.

“Well?” said Sasha.

“She said she’s with her boyfriend,” said Annie, dryly. 

“Ooooooooh!” said Connie. 

“If it’s not Eren he’s going to be pissed when he finds out,” said Sasha. 

“Maybe that’s why he’s not at school today,” said Connie. “Oh! Maybe her new boyfriend is Armin so Eren stayed home to cry about it.”

“That’s impossible,” snapped Annie, stopping herself just before she revealed that Armin was seeing a different girl. That wasn’t her business to spread around. “Armin and Mikasa are just friends.” Connie pouted at her, pretending to be wounded by her tone. She sighed. She’d been in a bad mood since talking to Armin the night before. “Sorry, Connie,” she said. 

“That’s alright,” said Connie, shrugging.

“Hi, guys!” said Mikasa, smugly. The three friends turned to see who the mysterious boyfriend was and were not at all surprised to see Eren standing next to her with his arm around her shoulder and a shit-eating grin on his face. Annie could already tell they were going to be insufferable together. 

“Eren!” said Sasha, devilishly. “We thought Mikasa got back together with Porco because she updated her relationship status and you didn’t.”

Eren grimaced. “Is there, like, a registry I’m supposed to call or something?” he asked.

“She just means on Myspace,” whispered Mikasa. Eren’s face cleared. 

“Oh, I’ll do that this afternoon,” he said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. 

I don’t remember what this was for

“Eren, are you alright in there?" Carla called through his door, her voice heavy with concern. "You sound like an injured pygmy goat."

"That's really specific, Mom," Eren said, opening the door to show her that he was physically fine.

"You were too little to remember, but one time I took you to the petting zoo and-"

"Is the goat okay now?" Eren sighed. He didn't want to know what he had done to it.

"It's probably dead," said Carla. "This was thirteen years ago."

Eren looked at her as though he was about to join the goat in death if she didn't answer his fucking question.

"He had to wear a little cast. It was so cute they put it in the news."

"Oh my god, Mom! I broke a pygmy goat’s leg?”

Carla looked at him like she had never seen him before in her life. "Of course not. We were just there when it happened. I think it tripped in a hole?"

"It wasn't me?" asked Eren. 

"No!" said Carla. 

"Oh thank god," Eren sighed.

"My question was, why are you bleating like that poor little goat in there?"

Bonfire

Up in the mountains, Annie, Sasha, and Mikasa were standing on the shore of the lake in their bathing suits, looking at the water. Icy slush floated on the gently lapping surface near their feet, larger chunks bobbing out in the middle of the water. Connie was sitting on the hood of Sasha's car, bundled against the chilly mountain breeze in a hoodie, jeans, and a beanie. He had his camcorder in hand.

"I'm still recording!" he called out. "Have been for, like, three minutes."

"On the count of three," said Annie, looking around at the other girls. "Winner gets bragging rights."

Sasha and Mikasa nodded, squaring their shoulders.

"One!" shouted Annie.

The girls got into position.

"Two!” shouted Annie, bracing herself. Mikasa gritted her teeth in determination. Sasha looked over her shoulder at Connie, grimacing briefly before turning back to the lake.

"Three!" Annie screamed. The girls ran into the water, splashing and squealing.

"Nope, fuck this!" said Sasha, turning around and running back out. She shivered as she grabbed her towel off of a rock and sped over to the car to change back into her clothes. 

When she joined Connie on the hood of the car, she saw that Annie and Mikasa had both waded out to shoulder depth. Mikasa had had to go farther out than their petite friend and was staring stonily at nothing. Annie was frowning, her brows knit. She snuck a glance at Mikasa, then frowned even harder.

"She looks like she's getting cold," said Sasha. "I think she's trembling."

"You're going to have to go in and get her if she passes out from hypothermia," said Connie. "Does hypothermia make you faint?"

"Why do I have to do it?" complained Sasha. 

"Because you are bigger than me," said Connie, pitifully. "The cold would cut right through my tiny bones."

Sasha snickered and patted him on the head. "You're right, my little potato. You are much too delicate," she cooed, facetiously.

Connie grinned, then looked back out at their friends. "Ah. Looks like Annie is giving up. You're off the hook." 

Sasha looked, too. Annie was scowling as she stalked out of the water, her fists clenched at her sides, her entire body shaking from the cold. Sasha hopped up and ran down to meet her, grabbing Annie's towel and wrapping it around her. Annie's teeth chattered as Sasha dried her off. 

"Are you okay?" asked Mikasa, coming up behind Annie with a look of concern. She was barely shivering and hadn't even bothered to grab her towel yet.

"Ha!" said Annie, her air of bravado somewhat demeaned by her purple lips and goose bumps. "Too cold for you in there?"

"No," said Mikasa, finally going and grabbing her towel but not using it. "Ackermans are very hardy. It just seemed pointless to stay out there when I'd already won."

"Bitch," muttered Annie with no malice whatsoever as Mikasa draped her in her towel.

While the two girls changed into their clothes, Connie and Sasha perched next to each other on a log, peacefully texting their significant others and eating Fritos. 

"What's Mina doing today?" asked Sasha. "Why didn't she come?" 

"Her family went to the aquarium for her cousin's birthday," said Connie. "She said she's going to bring me a souvenir."

"I like her," said Sasha with great feeling. 

"Me, too," said Connie, happily. “Did I tell you she had three cats? And she wants to get a kitten.”

“She collects cats like my parents collect foster kids,” said Sasha with a laugh. “Kaya’s going back home to her Mom, though. Did I tell you?”

“Is her Mom doing better then?” asked Connie. 

“She’s out of the hospital. She has to do some physical therapy for her legs but she can get around okay with her crutches,” said Sasha, smiling wistfully. “I’m going to miss that kid but I’m glad she gets to be with her Mom again.”

The car door slammed and Annie and Mikasa emerged, dressed more appropriately for the chilly mountain air. They came to perch on the log next to Connie and Sasha.

“So what now?” asked Annie. 

"We should have a bonfire," said Connie, tucking his phone in his pocket, gesturing to a fire pit a previous visitor had dug and ringed with stones. "You always have a lighter, right, Annie?"

She withdrew the item in question from her pocket and held it up. 

"Sweet," said Connie, hopping down from the hood and beginning to collect fallen twigs and branches. Mikasa moved to join him but was interrupted by the ringing of her phone.

She looked at the screen. "Oh, it's Eren," she said, blushing as she answered it.

"See if he wants to come for the bonfire," said Connie.

Mikasa nodded as she wandered a short distance away with the phone, twirling her hair around her finger as she talked.

“Hi, Eren,” she said. 

“Hi, Mikasa.”

“Are you and Armin lost?”

“Yeah,” said Eren sheepishly. 

The rest of the kids continued prepping for the bonfire, Annie and Connie collecting the wood while Sasha laid the sticks out, ready to be lit.

Mikasa was smiling dreamily when she hung up the phone and came over to help her friends try to roll a fallen log over to the fire pit. 

"So is your boyfriend coming?" asked Sasha, digging her heels into the soft mulch of the forest floor and managing to shift the log slightly.

"He's not my boyfriend!" said Mikasa, her recently vacated cheeks filling back up with blood. Then she paused and grinned impishly. "Yet, anyways.

Connie hooted.

"He's with Armin," Mikasa said, leaning into the log with her friends. "They're going to try to find a ride." 

"So how was your date?" Sasha asked. "I've been waiting for you to bring it up yourself but you're being too classy." 

"It was good!" said Mikasa, emphatically. 

Her friends waited expectantly but she didn't add anything. 

"Did you guys have your first kiss?" Sasha probed.

"No," said Mikasa, truthfully. 

“He’s such a wimp,” scoffed Sasha. 

“Come on Mikasa, what the hell?” said Annie. “After all that whining about how much you like him you didn’t even try to kiss him?”

"We did kiss though," said Mikasa, a shade too innocently.

Her friends stared at her blankly. Improbably, Connie was the first one to get it. He hooted again, jumping around with glee.

"I knew it! I knew it!" he screeched. "I knew you guys had already hooked up! I said it months ago and I was right! I said, ‘Eren has definitely touched Mikasa’s butt’ and nobody believed me but I was right, wasn’t I? Wasn’t I?"

"How could you tell?" asked Mikasa, her eyes wide. 

"What???" shrieked Sasha, her mouth falling open. 

“Mikasa, you fucking skank!” said Annie, grinning widely. 

Mikasa shrugged, looking smug as she put her shoulder back into the log. Now that she knew Eren liked her back, she didn’t mind staking her claim a little bit. 

Anamnesis

Yumihisu New year’s Eve deleted scene

Historia smacked her lips together, inspecting her lipstick in the mirror. 

“You look good,” said Ymir, sprawled out on Historia’s bed, lazily buttoning her shirt back up. 

“Thank you!” said Historia, flipping her hair and turning to smile dazzlingly at Ymir. “Thank you for coming to this dumb gala with me.”

“I don’t know. It sounds kind of fun,” said Ymir. “Hobnobbing with the governor and all his rich friends? Eating caviar? It’s going to be the glitziest New Year’s Eve I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, I felt the same way when I went to my first Reiss event,” said Historia, perching on the edge of her bed. “But you find out pretty quick that money is nice, but the people who have it aren’t. You’ll see when you meet my ‘family’.” Historia rolled her eyes with a weary sigh. 

“That bad, huh?” said Ymir.

“Well, Frieda’s okay,” Historia conceded. “She’s just kind of out of touch because, you know, she’s never wondered if there were enough cans of baked beans in the cupboard to keep her full until payday. Not that I’ve had to do that in a while. It just… you know. Perspective.”

“Yeah,” said Ymir. “It’s like the more I learn about film and TV production, the more I notice the technical details when I watch something. Like, there’s all this background info in my head that the average television enjoyer doesn’t have. And, like, it changes the way you see things.”

Eren at the coffee shop, two versions

"I don't fucking care!" said Eren. "Caramel! Fancy! Those are the only two requirements."

The barista began tapping grimly on the register, bitterly composing the most expensive custom drink he possibly could. "Okay, fifteen dollars."

"And an Americano for me," said Eren, pulling out his wallet and handing the barista a twenty, then catching his eye and glaring at him intensely. "If my date doesn't cry tears of joy because I got her the best caramel coffee she's ever tasted, I will find out what time you're off and come back here every single day to order the most obnoxious, complicated drink I possibly can right before the end of your shift. And then when you bring it to me, I'm going to say you made it wrong. And then you're going to have to do it all over again. You will never be on time for class again."

The barista pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll put whipped cream on it."

"Thanks," said Eren, flouncing away.

The barista watched him go, his eyebrows set in a straight line across his forehead. He fucking hated his life, and, more importantly, he hated Eren. 

"I don't think the barista likes you," Mikasa commented as Eren sat back down across from her. The young man was bustling around, blending coffee and squirting caramel and looking over his shoulder to glare daggers at her date.

"Yeah, no. Somewhere along the line we became sworn enemies," said Eren, unbothered. "I fucking hate him, too."

"Why?" said Mikasa.

Eren shrugged. "I just do."

"An Americano and a caramel bitch drink for the dumbfuck in the green shirt," called the barista, looking bored.

Eren clenched his fists. 

"I'll go grab them and then let's go for a walk," said Mikasa, standing up. 

"Yeah, okay," said Eren. "Tell me what you think of your coffee. If you don't like it, I'll make him pay."

***

"The usual?" asked the barista, looking annoyed as Eren approached the counter. 

"No, I'm going to buy something today," said Eren, studying the menu. "What's your fanciest caramel drink?"

"Hot or iced?"

"What's sexier?" said Eren.

The barista looked at him. 

"Well?" said Eren. "It's iced coffee, right? Because the cups are see-through?"

"Uh, sure," said the barista. "I guess maybe an iced caramel latte?"

"No, no. I'm trying to impress someone," said Eren, tapping his foot. "It needs to be fancier."

"I don't know what you want me to do. This isn't that kind of coffee shop," said the barista. "We have three flavors of syrup and we don't even have oat milk."

"Fuck," said Eren. "Well, make a caramel latte and zazz it up, then, I guess. Fuck." He rubbed his eyes. "She's never going to fall for me now. I'm going to die alone."

The barista pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll put whipped cream on it."

Eren drooped with relief. "Thanks man. And an Americano for me." He pulled out his wallet and handed the barista a twenty, turning around to smile at Mikasa as he waited for his change.

Downton Abbey

"What show are we watching?"

"I want to try Downton Abbey. I heard it's good."

"Okay," said Eren, letting her steer the conversation towards less troubled waters. "I could go for some old timey etiquette and shit."

Mikasa extracted herself from him and set the timer for the enchiladas, then turned to smile at Eren. He crooked his elbow and offered it to her. "My lady? May I escort you to the viewing parlor or whatever you want to call it?"

Mikasa beamed, linking her arm through his. "You are most kind," she said, her assumed British accent melting in Eren's ears like pound cake on his tongue. 

"You do that really good," he said.

"Oh, well. I suppose one tends to hone the skill when they have a passion for the stage," she said, peering at him coyly from the corner of her eyes.

He plopped down on the couch, pulling her into his lap. "It's sexy," he said, with a crooked grin, brushing a kiss across her jaw.

"My lord!" she gasped, letting her hand flutter to her bosom. "We are unwed! What will the servants think?"

“Let them think whatever they want,” he said, gamely playing along.

“This is most improper,” said Mikasa, playing with the collar of Eren’s shirt,

Eren growled, nipping at her throat. 

Mikasa giggled. "Do you like accents?" she asked in her normal voice.

"I like when you do accents," Eren said, his tongue drawing little hearts and curlicues over her pulse. She drew in a shaky breath as his large hands encircled her waist, then crept beneath her top and unfurled across her back.

"Shall I continue then?" she asked, the posh London accent inflating her vowels and cushioning her consonants. 

"Please do," he said, his voice vibrating against her skin as he let his lips travel over her skin, leaving blossoms of heat in their wake. 

Single Parents AU

Adri clothes shopping

She bit her lip, debating for a moment before she asked, "If I ever see something Adri might like, can I buy it for her?"

Eren didn't know why the request delighted him so much. "Yeah, of course," he said. "I can pay you back if you keep the receipts."

"That won't be necessary," said Mikasa, smiling to herself and moving to another rack. Adri watched her with greedy anticipation. She hated Makaka but she loved clothes. She hoped she would buy her some today.

"C'mon, bug. Let's get you some new leggings while we're here," said Eren, steering the cart away from Mikasa. "You've got holes in most of yours."

Adri was released from the shopping cart to assist in the legging selection. "You can pick six," said Eren, holding up the corresponding number of fingers. "That's 1-2-3-4-5-6."

"Otay," said Adri, squatting in front of the display shelf and evaluating her options.

When Mikasa joined them, she was empty handed besides her cup of iced tea. "I need to grab Mason some socks," she murmured. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," said Eren, watching her go with a soft pang of loneliness. He shook his head to chase the feeling away. He was just being a little dramatic because of how long it had been since he'd seen her, he was sure. It was as if she'd taken part of him with her when she disappeared and, now that she'd brought it back, he felt more like himself than he had in years. He didn't have long to ponder on the reason for that. She was back almost right away with a package of socks and a couple t-shirts.

"Are dose for me?" asked Adri, standing up with her armful of leggings and peering at Mikasa's purchases. 

"These are for Mason," said Mikasa, patting the shirts she had draped over her arm. "I don't know what kind of clothes you like yet. I want to buy you something you'll wear."

Adri's nose twitched. 

"Maybe you can do a fashion show for me the next time I'm at your house," Mikasa offered, well aware that she was trying to suck up to a three-year-old while also putting out feelers to see if Eren would even want to see her again. 

"That sounds fun!" said Eren, jumping for the bait. "You can be a model, peanut."

Christmas shopping

“Do you want to get a picture with Santa?” Eren asked, bumping Mikasa with her shoulder. 

“Oh, god no,” she said, glancing at the long line snaking around the mall’s North Pole Village. “Even when I was a little kid I had no interest in waiting around to sit on some old guy’s lap.”

“You didn’t want to meet Santa?” asked Eren. 

“That’s not Santa,” said Mikasa, stopping in front of a candle store. “Should I get Porco Galliard a candle?” she wondered. 

“Why should you get him anything?” asked Eren, bristling. 

Mikasa looked over her shoulder at him. “Because I always get a gift for Mason’s teachers at Christmas.”

“Oh,” said Eren. “Then I guess you could.”

Mikasa pursed her lips, considering. “I don’t know,” she said. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to get a few just in case.”

“Just in case of what?” asked Eren, picturing a city-wide power outage, but confident that was not what she was planning for. 

“In case someone unexpectedly gives me a present, so I have something to give back,” said Mikasa, walking through the entryway. They were assaulted by a wall of fragrance. “God,” she said, picking up a candle and giving it a quick sniff. “Let’s move quick. Do they have any winter ones?”

“Uh…” said Eren, looking around. Christmas shopping hadn’t been what he would have picked for their second date, but Ryu had finals and was working extra shifts at the restaurant to take advantage of holiday generosity and get as many tips as possible. This was the only night he’d been free to watch Mason and she needed to use it to buy gifts, so they’d had to make do. “I think they have some over there,” he said, pointing at a table laden with wax-filled glass jars. 

Mikasa hurried over, read the sign advertising the shop’s current sale pricing, and grabbed five at random, carrying the armful over to the queue. Eren followed behind her, weaving between the crowds of shoppers until he came to a stop at her side. “You didn’t want a basket?” he said, taking three of the candles from her. 

“That would have been smart,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking about it. I’m more worried about getting out of here fast to avoid the smell.” She touched one of the remaining two candles to her temple. Oh, that’s right, thought Eren. Mikasa had actually worked here once as a teenager, for a single day. She’d come in for her first day of training and ended up quitting and leaving part way through because the overabundance of scents had triggered a migraine. She’d told him about it during their next tutoring session and he’d retaliated against the store by shoplifting a backpack full of votives, which he had then given to Historia because he didn’t give a shit about scented candles and he wanted to annoy her. 

His disdain for candles still intact, Eren plucked the last two from Mikasa’s hands. 

“Get out of here, you nut,” he said. 

“Huh?” she said. 

“You heard me,” he said. “I’ll get the candles, you go wait for me where it’s safe.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. 

Eren frowned at her. “Why the hell would I let you stand here and give yourself a headache when I’m right here and impervious to the fumes?” 

Mikasa took a half step towards the exit, doubtful. “It’s not too much trouble?” she asked.

“Of course not! Go!” he ordered, nudging her with his toe. 

They reconvened outside the candle shop about twenty minutes later, which wasn’t too bad given the Christmas crowds. Mikasa was waiting for Eren on a bench near the store entrance, rolling her neck absent-mindedly. Eren plopped down next to her, setting the bag of candles between his feet, spreading his legs so that his knee brushed against hers. "We got you out in time, right? Your head feels fine?" he asked. 

Mikasa nodded, lacing her fingers through his. He tensed for a flustered moment before he relaxed into her touch, settling their joined hands on his thigh and grinning down at her. "Thank you," she said, tossing her head to get her bangs out of her eyes. "I feel bad for making you do that."

Eren furrowed his brow at her, his lips twisting into an incredulous smile. "You didn't make me do anything. I offered."

"But you had to stand in line for me," persisted Mikasa.

"So?" said Eren. "Don't you think I'd rather do that than let you get a migraine?"

"Still, it could have been avoided. I didn't have to get candles," fretted Mikasa, tugging on her hair. "Or I could have ordered them online."

Eren grabbed her chin. "Mikasa, stop. Not only are we friends, we're dating." He paused. They were dating, right? Like, it was only their second date, but it was reasonable to assume they'd go on more, wasn't it? They’d been sneaking a lot of kisses when the kids weren’t looking. "Are we dating or did I get ahead of myself?" he said, holding his breath.

"We’re dating," said Mikasa. 

Eren exhaled. "Then we should be doing stuff for each other," he concluded.

Doubt sprouted across Mikasa’s face. "But…"

"Let me clarify," said Eren, leaning towards her so their noses were almost touching, her chin still caught between his fingers. "I want to do things for you. I'm looking for a partner, not a personal assistant."

He pressed a small, soft kiss to her lips, then released her with a grin, his point made and the matter resolved. 

Or, that’s what he thought until unexpected tears welled up in her eyes. 

Eren’s face went white. “Mikasa…” he said, but she was already standing up and dragging him, stumbling, behind her. He hooked the bag of candles, nearly abandoned, with his foot and sent it sliding up the glossy tile floor ahead of them, then swiped it up from the ground on his way past as he regained his footing and began trotting after her, pouring apologies and hoping she had noticed that pretty sweet bit of footwork he’d just pulled off. He hadn’t played soccer in years but he still had it. Maybe she would be so impressed by his prowess that she would forget about whatever he’d done to fuck up. 

“Mikasa, did I say something wrong?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she yanked him into an alcove that once housed payphones and now gave shelter to nothing, then turned around to face him, her eyebrows drawn together in a firm line, her eyes wet, glimmering, and boiling hot. She grabbed his sweatshirt, clenching it in her fists. Oh, shit. He was in trouble.

“I’m so sorry if I – mmmmfff,” he said, his fiftieth apology abruptly aborted when she yanked him down to her and crushed her lips against his. 

It took Eren a second to switch gears from groveling to making out, but as soon as he did, he grabbed her hips and pushed her back against the wall, pinning her to it with his weight as their tongues tangled together. 

“I thought you were mad at me,” he said, breathless. 

“God, no,” she said, kissing him again. “That was so hot.”

Eren grabbed her face, brushing his thumbs over the ridge of her cheekbones. They came away wet and he pulled back just enough to look at her, showing her the liquid glistening on the pads of his thumbs, raising his eyebrows. “And yet..” he said. 

Mikasa shook her head in disagreement, her eyes welling up again. 

“Mikasa!” he said. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, wiping away her tears. “You just don’t know how nice that was to hear.” 

“Which part?” said Eren. 

“All of it,” said Mikasa, tugging on his sweatshirt and lifting her chin. 

“Works for me,” said Eren, ducking his head and meeting her lips, planting his hands on the wall on either side of her. She slid her hands around his ribs and up his back, clutching him closer as they kissed in the dim alcove, which maintenance no longer bothered furnishing with light bulbs. The holiday shoppers washed past in tides, the burble of their voices drowning out the Christmas carols being piped from the mall’s speakers and eroding the illusion of privacy Eren and Mikasa had wrapped themselves in.

“We should keep shopping,” Eren said, taking a regretful step back.

Mikasa glanced around to make sure no one had seen them. “You’re right,” she said, resting her hand on his chest for a moment, then straightening her sweater and securing her purse over her shoulder. “Oh, good. You remembered the candles,” she said, reaching for the bag. Eren snatched it up before she could take it. So she hadn’t noticed his sweet soccer-remnant move, which sucked, but it had been because she was so horny for his mouth, so… Yeah. Overall, he was going to class that one as a win, he decided.

Mother’s Day Deleted Scenes

Eren and Isabella

Eren was fed up with Isabella’s shit and also terrified that he was looking at his future. Was Adri going to grow up and judge him this hard? Would she also make fun of his hair and mock him for saying thanks when she told him his shoes were “fucking mint”? He was 32 years old with a job and a girlfriend and kids. He had better things to do than keep on top of youthful vernacular. 

He was in a foul mood by the time they finally settled on what to get for Yelena (a gift card), paid for it, and got in the minivan. 

“It looks like your Mom and Adri are already back at my house, Mase,” Eren said, checking his phone. “We missed out on our guy time. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay!” chirped Mason. “I liked playing with all the testers.” He held up his arms, which were covered in blotches of lipstick and eyeshadow and scented with every single perfume in the store. “Do you think my mom will think I look like a rainbow dragon?” He pointed at the clusters of multicolored swatches. “See? Because they look like scales?”

Eren chuckled. “Maybe! But, Mason. We’re going to need to put you in the bath right after you show her. You smell like a million bucks but Adri doesn’t do good with perfume. It can trigger her asthma and then she’ll need an extra breathing treatment.”

“Oh!” said Mason. “Sorry!”

“It’s okay, buddy. Although, I’m thinking maybe we should stop by your house on the way home and get you a change of clothes,” Eren mused. 

“Ha! Who’s going to let you in if Mikasa is at your house?” Isabella sneered.

“I have a key,” said Eren, rolling his eyes.

Isabella began to sputter. Eren turned on the radio to drown her out, singing along with a pop song he had disdained when he was seventeen but that tickled his nostalgia today. Behind him, Mason had also started singing along. Eren grinned over his shoulder at him, then looked back at the road, dancing his shoulders along to the beat. 

“You are such a dweeb, Uncle Eren!” Isabella burst out. “I can’t believe Mikasa would go out with an old guy like you, who has, like, negative rizz!”

“I don’t know what that means,” said Eren. “But I’m younger than she is, so ha.” 

‘You don’t know what rizz is?” Isabella scoffed.

“No,” said Eren. “And I also don’t care.”

Isabella started sputtering again.

Eren started singing along with the radio again, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Wait, this isn’t the way to your house,” said Isabella.

Eren’s brow furrowed. “I know. I’m bringing you home.”

“What?” said Isabella.

“Where else would I take you?” said Eren.

Everyone at home after

“I thought Armin and Annie were here,” said Eren.

“They went in the backyard. Alexander isn’t allowed to watch TV,” said Mikasa.

“Oh,” said Eren. “That’s, um… Yeah, okay.”

“I think babies should be allowed to watch TV!” Mason piped up, scooting towards the door into the garage. Now that they were in the house, it occurred to Eren that they could have gone through the garage directly to spare themselves any unnecessary subterfuge. “If I ever have a baby, I'm going to let him watch whatever he wants unless it's too scary.”

“Good plan,” said Mikasa, fiddling with the remote control and glancing at the television. 

“Okay, Eren! I'm ready!” Mason said, hovering in the doorway to the garage. “Can you help me?”

“Yeah, one second, Mase,” said Eren, leaning over to kiss Mikasa on the forehead. “How was Adri?”

“She was so cute at the salon. She was trying to act very mature and glamorous the whole time but at the end the UV lamp scared her because she thought it was an oven.” 

“Aw,” Eren chuckled. 

“She also fell down but I think she wants to tell you about it herself, so I'm just letting you know she has some scrapes but she's fine,” Mikasa added. “How was Mason?”

“An absolute saint compared to Isabella,” said Eren. “He had a great time with all the makeup testers. Mase, show your mom your arm.”

Mason hid the lip balms behind his back and came forward so Mikasa could see the kaleidoscope of color swatches painted on his skin. 

Mikasa chuckled. “You remind me of a Gustav Klimt painting, for some reason.”

“Eren said I could wash it off at home,” he said. 

“Let me take a picture first,” said Mikasa, getting out her phone and repositioning so she could better angle, motioning for Mason to do a couple different poses. “There! Go ahead and wash it off whenever.”

“I have to do something in the garage first…” said Mason, all shifty-eyed.

“That’s fine,” said Mikasa, carefully not looking at the lip balms that had crept out from their hiding place. “I’m going to finish my show.”

“Where’s my mom, by the way?” Eren asked, going with Mason to the garage.

“She filled up on snacks and went to her room. I think she might be having a nap, too,” said Mikasa.

“I’m going to get the ribs started after I help Mason,” said Eren. “If you feel like keeping me company.”

Mikasa’s eyes lit up. “You’re making ribs?”

“Eren! It was supposed to be a surprise!” Mason complained.

“Ah, shoot!” said Eren. “Sorry!”

“That’s okay!” said Mason, his lips stretching into a smug smile. “I kept it a secret longer, so that means I win!”

“That’s true! Good job!” said Eren. 

“Do I get a cash prize?” Mason asked, bouncing on his toes.

Eren was reaching for his wallet to see if he had any small bills when Mikasa cut in and said, “No. Just bragging rights.”

“Aw, man,” said Mason.

Adri’s bedroom door cracked open. “Daddy?” she croaked, rubbing her eyes.

“Hi, peanut!” said Eren. “Let me see your nails.”

Adri dragged herself over and put out her hands and one foot, tottering in place as Eren inspected her mani-pedi. 

“Very pretty!” he said. 

“Look,” said Adri, showing him the scabs on her knees and the heels of her little hands, her face drooping with sorrow.

“Ouch!” said Eren. “Do you need a kiss to fix you up?”

“Missy did it,” Adri said, her lips pursing together into a serious line. “So I’m already all better.”

Eren’s eyebrows popped up then drifted back down as a slow, pleased smile spread over his face. “Then how about just a kiss because I’m happy you’re home?” he said.

“Otay!” said Adri, lifting her face so he could give her a smooch on the cheek. 

Lady’s Liaison

They must have been thirteen at the time, and Jean fourteen. Eren was in the awkward beginning stages of manhood. His upper lip now required shaving every morning and his voice cracked when he spoke with too much passion. Mikasa had been sent to the dressmaker to have her bodices altered to accommodate her own adolescent changes, and Eren had been sent along to help the footman carry the piles of gowns. 

Lady Kirschtein had indulgently allowed him to ride in the coach with them, and, as they always did during lessons, Eren and Mikasa had spent the ride with their heads together, whispering and snickering. Eren had been too preoccupied to notice the frown burgeoning across Lady Kirschtein’s face as she watched them together. 

When they had arrived in town and stopped the coach to disembark, Eren had leapt out and joined the footman on the walkway, his hands behind his back and his spine straight. Lady Kirschtein had exited first, taking the footman’s proffered hand delicately as she stepped down. Mikasa had come next. 

“Eren!” she had called, haughtily, reaching for him. He had grinned and raised his hand to her. Their difference in status had become a joke between them. It had seemed too ridiculous when they felt so alike. They’d made a game of it and she often played the snob, ordering him to do the most inane things, while he dramatically acquiesced, nearly falling over himself in his servitude. Now he raised his hand to her. “My Lady,” he said, gripping her fingers tightly when she rested them in his palm and helping her as she flounced down from the coach. He did not let go when she was safely on the ground, instead bowing obsequiously over her hand. “Are you able to walk on your own?” he had asked, his voice drawling and impassioned. “Or must I carry you?”

A sharp intake of breath drew his attention and he looked up to see Lady Kirschtein, her face twisted with shock at his impertinence. He had flinched back, releasing Mikasa’s hand. 

“I apologize,” he said, quickly. “I forgot myself.”

“Indeed,” said Lady Kirschtein, coldly, taking Mikasa by the arm and sweeping away with her. Eren’s stomach lurched and he glanced at the footman, who raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head. 

“You may take lessons together but you would do well to remember that Lady Ackerman is not your friend,” the footman whispered as they trailed the ladies, the dresses to be altered piled in their arms.

Eren swallowed and nodded. 

It was after that incident that Mikasa was withdrawn from tutoring and given over to a governess. In truth, she was far more classically educated than a woman should be, but Lord Kirschtein had been loathe to hire a governess when the tutor was perfectly capable of teaching all the children he had collected.

Neighbors AU

After Eren gives her the tree

 "So it's kind of like our trees will be a little family," he said. 

"Ooooh, yes," said Mikasa. "And we'll be baking their babies into pies."

Eren looked at her, horrified. "I didn't think of it that way!" he said. 

"Life is cruel," said Mikasa with a bright smile. "But if we don't eat them, the birds and squirrels will."

"Jesus, Mikasa," said Eren, putting his forehead in his hand with an admiring huff. "Every time I think I've got you figured out…"

"Sorry," said Mikasa, wincing. 

"That wasn't a complaint," said Eren, offering her his elbow. She took it and he escorted her to her car. 

Her eyes were sparkling when she got behind the wheel. 

When I thought they might ditch the party to go bowling

They decided to go bowling, so Mikasa headed back into town, grumbling about the waste of gas and Historia's obvious disregard for the environment, while Eren listened and admired her ability to twist a small, personal matter into a much greater issue on the global scale. By the time they arrived at the bowling alley, Mikasa had effectively pinned responsibility for all of global warming on Historia Reiss, because she drove an SUV and didn't turn off her lights when she went out and didn't drink fair trade coffee. 

"She should be in jail," Eren said, with great feeling, even though he had no idea where his coffee came from. He was going to start paying attention from now on, so he was within his rights to pass judgment. 

Mikasa sighed, parking her car. "We'll be friends again tomorrow," she said. 

"I guess that's good," said Eren, who was confident he had made an enemy for life. 

They got out of the car and went into the bowling alley which was, improbably, packed. "Is bowling cool again?" said Mikasa.

"Was there a point when it stopped being cool?" said Eren, heading towards the counter.

"There's a waiting list if you don't have a reservation," said the harried teenager. He pulled a clipboard from beneath the desk. "It's at least an hour wait, but probably more like two," he said. 

"Well, shoot," said Mikasa. "What would we do until then?" 

"There's a bar," offered the kid. He lowered his voice. "I'm allowed to walk through it after closing." He blinked at them both, waiting to see if they were impressed by his maturity.

They didn't even notice. "Would you like a drink, Eren?" Mikasa asked. 

"We're already here," he shrugged. "Might as well." 

"Can we put our names on the list then?" Mikasa asked the teenager, pointing at the clipboard. The kid handed it to her and she filled it out while Eren wandered over to peek through the door into the bar. 

"What happens if I don't hear my phone ring?" Mikasa asked as she jotted down her phone number on the sheet. "Should I note that we'll still be on the premises?" 

"We'll make an announcement on the overhead, too," the kid said. "Do you always get dressed up to go bowling?"

Mikasa looked down at her brand new cocktail dress. "Sometimes," she said.

"Oh," said the kid, taking back the clipboard just as Eren returned from his reconnaissance mission, a disgruntled expression on his face. 

"They don't have a pool table," he grumbled. 

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" said Mikasa.

"No, no," said Eren, grabbing her arm and looping it through his. "Here is fine."

"Thank you!" Mikasa called to the kid as Eren escorted her to the bar.

It was dim inside and smelled faintly of sweat and feet. "Do they serve food?" said Mikasa, thinking with regret of the top notch hors d'oeuvres Historia had no doubt catered for her party. There'd been this spinach and cheese puff pastry concoction Mikasa had tried last time and she'd been hoping she'd get to taste it again. And then there was the country club' signature gelato. She'd really wanted Eren to try the gelato. Perhaps she had been too hasty in storming out of there. She just didn't like Historia talking all that shit about Eren. He was a good guy and didn't deserve to have Historia drunkenly ragging on him all night. She sighed, looking around for a menu.

"Here," said Eren, coming right up behind her and reaching around her shoulder to tap on a sheet of paper taped to the bar top. It was covered in clip art and a list of deep fried foods. 

Mikasa scanned it, digging around in her purse for her wallet. "Do you want some mozzarella sticks?" she asked. "My treat."

"Huh?" he said, blinking. 

"Do you want to split some mozzarella sticks? Oh! And they have tater tots!" Mikasa did an excited wiggle as she located her wallet and withdrew it from her bag. Eren frowned, grabbing her wrist to stop her as she tried to take out her credit card. 

"Tonight's on me," he said. 

"But, Eren…" said Mikasa. 

“But what?” he said, locking gazes with her. Some of his long, dark hair had escaped from his bun and hung in strands around his face, framing his eyes as they bored into her. She nearly swooned. "I said I'd be your date tonight, didn't I?" he said.

"Well, yes," said Mikasa. "But that was for the party and now we're not at the party. So I wasn't sure if…"

"This is still a date," said Eren.

“Okay,” she squeaked, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear. It fell across her eyes. 

Eren plucked her wallet from her hand and tucked it back into her purse. "I'm paying," he said. 

“Okay,” said Mikasa, patting her cheeks, stomach fluttering. 

“Okay,” said Eren, pulling out his own wallet. “So don’t go running off with any other guys.”

“I won’t,” said Mikasa, her eyes wide. “I promise.”

Eren sucked in a breath and looked up at the ceiling. It had taken every ounce of self esteem he had to fuel that little interaction. He was so relieved it had worked. “Good,” he said. “What do you want to drink?”

“Just a diet Coke,” she said. “I’m driving.”

“Two Cokes and whatever else it was you said,” said Eren. He cleared his throat. “What did you want again?”

“Mozzarella sticks,” said Mikasa. 

“Wasn’t there another thing?” said Eren. 

“Tater tots,” said Mikasa, pressing her fingers to her lips and blushing. 

[hookedsworks]

Edge(ING) Fitness - Chapter XLIX

Vessel's POV

999 words

II’s hands shook the entire drive home. Vessel watched him out of the corner of his eye. II clasped them, checked his phone, reclasped them, touched the door handle, clasped again. He contemplated his own thoughts. He was certain about this, now. Watching II fight, watching the blush on his face. Watching the way he was, how nervous he was about Vessel's reaction. He was certain. Vessel eventually reached over and grabbed II’s hand. 

“Calm down,” he implored softly. Breaking the silence still made II jump. 

“Vessel, I just… I’m sorry you had to see any of that. I don’t know why I did that,” II’s voice was small. It lacked the confidence he usually broadcast. “I don’t know why I kissed him. I didn’t know I wanted that. I still want you, I still want to be with you,” 

“II. Stop. I told you earlier. I want to do this with you. Whatever it is,” 

“Why do I feel this way?” II was so quiet, he almost thought he was talking to himself. “You're…you’re amazing. You're everything I've ever wanted in a partner. I don't even know why I kissed him. We…we were fighting!”

“Did it feel right?” He asked before II could keep talking. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched II's lips turn down. He pulled into his driveway then. II didn't answer. He just got out of the car. Vessel followed, watching II shake his head. II actually had a little disbelieving smile on his face. “Upstairs,” he added. 

“That's the shitty thing. It did. It felt good. Obviously, I mean, then I started flirting with him. What the hell was I thinking?” II walked up Vessel's stairs like he owned the place. 

“Well. I mean. You like him. You like me. What's the problem, really?” 

“You. You're just. You're worth more than that, I think. You're so good to me. Why do I want him too? It feels…greedy,” II was pacing In Vessel's bedroom. 

“Okay, stop. Come into the bathroom so I can clean you up,” he wondered if a clear instruction, something to actually do, would help II stop. He was clearly spiraling. Vessel didn't know exactly what to say. II nodded and went to the bathroom. 

“How are you not mad?” II asked. Vessel leaned down and pulled his first aid kit from under his sink. He took II's jaw in one hand, tilting II's face to look at what was going to be a black eye. 

“You remember the steakhouse, don't you?” He asked, sick of listening to II talk himself in nervous circles. He knew what to say. He wiped II's cuts. He also checked his nose, touching it to see if he reacted like it was broken. Bruised maybe, but not broken. 

“Yeah, of course. How could I forget?” II’s eyebrows pulled together. Thinking about it, probably. He began prodding, checking for broken ribs. II winced. 

“Do you remember what I asked you then?” 

“I believe your exact words were that you wanted to ‘formalize this thing between us’,” II's smile reappeared, making Vessel feel so much better. Then, he inhaled through his teeth as Vessel found another cut and disinfected it. 

“I asked if you would be my partner, II. And you said yes. Do you know what that means to me? It means you're still mine. It means my equal in all things. My love, my light, all that romantic stuff. But also I'm the guy who's going to be there with you through everything. For as long as you'll have me. Even this. Even when you can't figure you out. I'm here,” 

Not the checking his nose, not the pressing for broken ribs, not the alcohol in the cuts, but this brought II to tears. Big, warm, round blue eyes flooded with tears, staring at Vessel. 

“W-why?” He sighed then. He had wanted to do this in a more…romantic setting than his bathroom while II was covered in cuts and bruises. He wiped a tear from II's face. 

“II… I love you,” II laughed. He laughed. Vessel couldn't help the hurt that blossomed on his face. “I tell you I love you and you laugh at me?” He tried to smile, keeping it light. He knew II was kind of in a rough spot, and this probably wasn't the time to say it. But, it was also the answer to II's question. 

“I'm sorry,” II replied, but then he was still laughing. Vessel watched as II's laughs turned to tears. “I love you too,” he continued, crying. Little hysterical giggles bubbled over II's lips. Vessel was smiling. He loved him too. “I'm sorry,” he repeated, now weeping. “It's uh…been a rough day,” II said after his tears slowed. “I love you too,” he whispered again, eyes going wide. “You love me?” 

“I do love you,” he couldn't help his smile. II loved him back. Even after kissing Ivy. He loved him back. II wrapped his hands around Vessel's neck. II clung to him, hugging him hard. 

“I love you,” II whispered, face pressed against his neck. He kissed the side of II's head and then picked him right up. “Oh!” II’s gasp was delicate, even. It was sweet. 

“It's been a long day. Can I get you tea before bed?” II shook his head and mumbled into his neck. 

“I just wanna go to bed,” II sounded so sweet, tired and then he snuggled into Vessel. Vessel melted. He sat II on his bed. 

“Bed, then,” 

“You love me?” He leaned in, kissed II. He kissed him hard. Long. It felt good. 

“I do love you. Lay down,” Vessel couldn't help his grin. II loved him. After he laid down with II, II grabbed his hand. 

“I'm going to have to talk to Ivy,” II's voice was full of fear. 

“That's tomorrow's problem,” Vessel replied, yawning. He gathered II into his arms and held him. “We'll get through it,” he kissed II's head again. 

[wendigoruble]

💙Tall Woman: An Odd Feeling💙

Franco grapples with physical desire and emotional desire

[Sexual mentions and some sexism below]

By the time they get to the restaurant Franco has thankfully calmed down enough not to outright look up at her and say he's extremely horny. Granted he didn't do that in the car either. Something about her presence just makes him want to submit. The more he's by her side the more that will to have a good lay melts off. It's still there, of course. He wants to have sex with her but it slowly morphs into more. It’s more than lust but Franco does his best to brush that aside.

She's the embodiment of everything he's ever wanted in a woman. Tall, smooth talker, great body, a great rack…. And something else.

Strange.

That odd emotion stays with him despite his best efforts. She holds his arm and they walk side by side towards the radiating warmth of the steakhouse. He passes a glance up and he could swear his heart melts then and there.

What a woman. A perfect angelic woman that for some reason chose him.

They sit down at the table together and even then she's still taller than Franco by a head. She needs to tilt her gaze down to look at him and it just makes him feel incredibly small, near helpless. It gives enough visual pressure to make him hunch his shoulders as his nerves return. Emotions he doesn't quite know how to place so they manifest as anxiety that he chalks up to lust. Those nagging thoughts he'd only had sparsely throughout his time with women. Sure the ever present want to ‘be good’ is there, but so is this need to impress, make her feel good and not just himself. Something tells him not to swear and cuss at the wait staff, don't reel back when drinking a bitter wine, and don't complain so much. It's an odd want considering he usually likes to throw his weight around in attempts to impress. Women like a man who takes charge.

Why is that need subdued here?

Must just be his want to lay her as quickly as possible, that has to be it. Why else would he want to be so perfect for a woman? Couldn't just be that seeing her smile makes his heart flutter, that her presence alone is enough to make his knees weak.

“Y-you look very beautiful tonight.” He starts, offering up that same crooked grin.

“You said that in the car,”She chuckles,”But thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

For a moment he looks confused and almost out of reflex his hand goes to his hair. Going over that swoop of blonde once more to make sure it's still hiding his head as much as it can. No one ever says that about him. He's more than aware of his looks and he quite frankly doesn't believe her.

“You sure about that?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” She raises a brow with a hint of mirth in her tone,”You look quite nice in that suit.. And I like how you styled your hair, you've got really nice eyes.”

Franco finds his mouth and throat suddenly going dry. Since when did a woman find him attractive without pay or outside influence? She doesn't know he's got his gun strapped across his chest, she doesn't know his job. There's no monetary or fear based incentive.

“Huh..” He lowers his hand.

“What?”

“Nothing just uhm, thank you.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a sip. It's so dry it makes him want to reel but he bares it the best he can.

“Is the wine sour?” She picks up her own glass and swirls the deep red liquid.

“Mm- no,”Franco feels his cheeks warm up, and no doubt she can see the pink flush on his pale skin,”No. It's good.”

She looks into her glass then back up at him before taking a little sip. It must taste alright because she just shrugs as sets it aside.

“If you don't want to drink tonight we don't need to. I'd rather see you through sober eyes anyways.”

“What's that supposed ‘ta mean?” A brief prickling runs up his back.

“Just that I want to be present with you,”She rests her cheek on her hand with her elbow on the table. Table manners be damned,”I want to get to know you more, as a person I mean. You just.. I don't know. I feel drawn to you. Guess you could say I've got a crush hah, that's why we're on a date right?”

“O-ohh.. Ah.. Well ‘den,”He leans back slightly in his chair in an attempt to settle the odd emotional surge that flows through him at her words,”Chiedi via.”

“..I'm sorry?”

“Chiedi via…” Franco repeats,”Ask away.”

"Oh! Alright,"She smiles,"Well what do you do for work?"

[cevansbrat0007]

Real Talk.

Warning: the following post contains mature themes and references to drug overdose, death, and Fentanyl.

For the record, what I'm about to say in regards to NARCAN has nothing to do with me standing on a soapbox. Instead, I'm asking that people do what they can to educate themselves on the importance and necessity of this life-saving drug.

And I'll start by telling you a story:

This morning, I went to check on my roommate who lives on the floor above me. She had asked me to make sure she didn't sleep through her many alarms like she always did so that she could make it to work on time. She's a server at a steakhouse chain - and a damn good one at that.

She's also my friend. A friend who, just like myself, is nearly nine months sober.

Except this morning when I knocked on her door, she didn't answer. And when I opened the door and peeked in her room she appeared to be fast asleep. But she was half naked, and the fan she had borrowed from me the night before was set to full blast. Even though it was cold outside.

Her room was like an ice box. And she was so pale. And no matter how loud I said her name, she wouldn't open her eyes and look at me.

She wouldn't wake up.

So I poked her in the shoulder. I shook her. I yelled her name. And then I realized her lips were blue. Her body was stiff. And she was cold to the touch.

The only sound she could make was that of a low, almost eerie groan. If I'm being honest, it's a sound that I'd never quite heard before. And I don't want to ever hear it again.

What I would come to realize seconds later was that my friend had overdosed on Fentanyl. Possibly a few hours earlier. Which meant she was fucking dying.

I panicked, of course. Because I'm an alcoholic. I've never touched Heroin, let alone witnessed an overdose. I know what to do if someone was suffering from, say, alcohol poisoning...but this...this was brand new territory.

Because with Fentanyl, seconds fucking matter.

I sprinted to wake up another girl. Seconds later we were back with our friend where our worst fear was absolutely confirmed.

Fentanyl Overdose.

I'd never fucking seen this. Never. But we didn't have time to fall apart because from there we dashed down the stairs. She went straight for the NARCAN and I went for my phone to call 911.

Less than a minute later, she and I were back in our friend's room to administer the NARCAN, only for us to realize that she wasn't breathing anymore.

By this point, another one of my housemates had joined us as well. And the others were soon to follow. While I was on the phone relaying instructions from the dispatcher on how to revive our friend, the others were moving her limp body to the floor.

They were doing chest compressions. Two were racing to find more NARCAN stashed in someone's glove compartment. And then another was directing EMS on where to go in the house.

It was a team effort to make sure this girl fucking lived. We could yell at her for this tomorrow. But for now, all we cared about was her living today.

I had never been through this. But as much as I hate to say this, today I was grateful that there were others in the house who had been through this before. For those who knew how to administer NARCAN.

In total, we administered something like 28 milligrams to bring her back. Which is a lot. A cop may have mumbled out something about us not waiting long enough in between doses to see if we'd given her enough before administering another. But he can go kick rocks.

Because we did the best we could all while running on straight adrenaline and doing everything we could to save someone while not falling apart in the process.

In the end, what matters is that she woke up. She was in pain. And very ill. And has since been admitted to the hospital.

Now the rest of us are left to deal with the tears and the adrenaline comedown, along with the guilt of all the signs we may or may not have missed. And that is really fucking shitty. I am so mad at my friend.

But at the same time, I love her so damn much. And I'm grateful that I will hopefully have the opportunity to share all these feelings with her one day soon.

She was fucking lucky. And so were we.

I'm grateful we found her in-time - because the paramedics made it very clear that we cut it real close. I'm grateful I live with people who found it in them to unite to save someone's life.

I'm grateful for NARCAN.

And beyond that, I'm grateful that I now know what to do with it. I never completely comprehended the weight of its importance until today. I didn't quite understand why my friend kept a stash of it in her glove compartment when she had no intentions of getting high anymore.

But today that stash saved her life. I'm begging you, if you have a loved one who suffers from this disease, please consider keeping this life-saving drug within reach.

Read up about it. Talk about it. Even if it makes you uncomfortable. Even if you can't fathom why someone would think of or want to use. Even if the idea of having to use it scares you.

I'm sure if it ever came down to it, you would rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Wouldn't you?

I've come to learn that many people who relapse, even after months of serious sobriety, don't plan it. It just happens. Impulsivity is a deadly part of this disease. One lapse in judgement - just one - could very well mean death.

It's really that serious.

Because with this disease, you're always guaranteed another relapse. But you're never guaranteed another recovery.

Thanks to NARCAN, my friend will have another shot.

That's all I've got for now, guys and gals. I'd be lying if I said we weren't all emotional wrecks over here. But it's all gonna be okay.

And finally, but most importantly: if you're struggling with anything, be it addiction or mental health, there is no shame in asking for help. Not now. Not ever. We're all human. We all need love.

We all deserve support to overcome our darkest of days.

Love, Britt