#motivational jumpsuit

[sinceileftyoublog]

Guided By Voices & Kiwi jr Live Show Review: 6/1, Thalia Hall, Chicago

From left to right: Bobby Bare Jr., Mark Shue, Robert Pollard, Kevin March, & Doug Gillard of Guided By Voices

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Robert Pollard sure has a way of making audiences feeling special. No, I'm not just talking about giving them their money's worth with regular forty-plus-song sets. As Guided By Voices walked out to chants of "G-B-V!" on Saturday night at Thalia Hall--a chant the band itself invented in studio on Propeller opening track "Over the Neptune / Mesh Gear Fox"--Pollard let the crowd know that it was Chicago itself who were the very first to chant the band's initials back at them, on their tour for 1993's Vampire on Titus. Perhaps it was a plea to continue supporting the band as they continue to release records, often upwards of 3 per year. "We can't just rest on our laurels!" Pollard proclaimed upon introducing "Serene King", the first single from their upcoming album Strut of Kings, the band's 41st (!) record. And rest on their laurels they don't, as evidenced by the band's 40th anniversary celebration last fall, and, really, by every show they continue to play.

Gillard

The year's shows so far for Guided By Voices are opportunities for many fans, even diehards, to hear live for the first time the songs from the band's 40th album, last November's Nowhere to Go but Up, as well as those released so far from Strut of Kings. As has been the case with this current lineup since 2016, the new material is often the highlight of the set, the songs the band is most excited to play. On Saturday, swinging opener "The Race Is On, The King Is Dead" proved to be more raw than its sweeping string-laden studio version from Nowhere to Go. It stood out has having a more urgent live sound without flourishes and could become a setlist regular in that vein, like "The Rally Boys". Elsewhere, Pollard's vocals were more upfront in the mix on prog songs like "Jack of Legs" and "Song and Dance". And two of Nowhere to Go's highlights certainly showcased the band's dynamism: "How Did He Get Up There?", with its choppy riffs and syncopated verses, and "For the Home", Doug Gillard's introductory guitar prelude giving way into a mammoth rhythm riff from Bobby Bare Jr. and drums from Kevin March.

Pollard

Even at 66 years old and less than two years removed from a busted knee, Pollard's still on stage crushing Miller Lites, taking swigs from a bottle of Jose Cuervo (which he somehow passed to the crowd reaching over the Thalia Hall photo pit), and launching high-kicks. If the crowd shows enthusiasm on its own, pogoing during career hits like "Game of Pricks" and "I Am A Scientist", it seems like Pollard takes the effort to amp them up with his leg up in the air for newer songs like Welshpool Frillies cut "Romeo Surgeon". The rest of the band, too, finds ways to subtly shift tunes night by night. Gillard's riffs on Tremblers and Goggles by Rank song "Boomerang" were a bit more bluesy than I recall, while the end call and response between Pollard and Bare Jr. during Pollard solo cut "Love Is Stronger Than Witchcraft" was straight up soulful, emulating the studio version's vocal layers. GBV are also careful not to oversaturate their material. Pollard joked that this would be the last time we'd hear Surrender Your Poppy Field's slow-burning "Volcano"--it won't going to make the cut on subsequent tours--but only after playing "Planet Score", a Motivational Jumpsuit cut that has found its way back into the rotation 10 years later. So, you never know.

From left to right: Mike Walker, Jeremy Gaudet, Brian Murphy, & Brohan Moore of Kiwi jr

Opening again for GBV, just like last September, was Toronto indie rock band Kiwi jr, culling from their three very good records. I thought of their opening set as a victory lap of sorts, the band now 3 years into their record deal with Sub Pop, having opened for 90s indie rock royalty like GBV and The Lemonheads. Live, they're becoming increasingly crispy, with wonderfully chintzy sounding synths introducing "Unspeakable Things", drummer Brohan Moore providing an appropriately wavy rhythm on "Salary Man", the band seamlessly diving into a galloping breakdown during the middle of "Waiting in Line". Vocalist Jeremy Gaudet's annunciation is increasingly Malkmus-esque, breathing out the final syllables of a melisma or laughing a tossed-off line like "nothing to worry about" on "Guilty Party". Yet, what separates him is his acerbic wit, clear as day even over the band's jangle. "It might take another year / It might take a shot-gunned beer / It might take a rifled deer / Head shot, night vision, sex tapе, head shot / Turn it out," from dark closer "Night Vision", sounds unexpectedly anthemic when coming from Gaudet's deadpanned delivery. Oh, and best of all, Kiwi jr played two new songs, the melancholy "I Want To Live in a World Like Polly" and the impressive "Blowin' Up". The latter started Cars-esque and punky before sporting a mid-song hip-hop drum beat with a synth freakout. If Kiwi jr continues to take the GBV route and morphs into something more kinetic, I don't think anybody will complain.

Murphy

Gaudet

[sophies-junkyard]

I’m in the South. I’ve got ears to the ground. Republicans are SWEATING at the prospect of Kamala being nominated. They’re not sure Trump can beat her.

Let’s prove them right.

[tubbytarchia]

I'm SO close to finishing fully storyboarding the Joel animation (yes I'm only at the storyboards and rough animation still. Shit's long), but I can't wait so please look at the smallidaries

[the-c0nquerer-w0rm]

✨ Welcome to Fluerin ✨

[myfriendtheghost]

and when I learn to sew and make myself a green version of fav jumpsuit? or candlelight sessions jumpsuit? what then???

[tomboy014]

Tamaranean Siblings, Part 2!

After the Body Swap incident, Phantom and Starfire get close.  Really close.  Turns out swapping bodies breaks down a lot of boundaries, and unlike Raven, the two have bonded.  Starfire has always been a hugger, and she’s taken to carrying Phantom around like a teddy bear. Phantom is used to having a red-headed big sister, and ever since his parents worked the ecto-deflectors into their jumpsuits, he might maybe be a teensy bit touch starved.  He loves to sprawl over Starfire whenever they hang out together.

It’s driving Robin up the wall.  Phantom knows he’s been crushing on Starfire for a while, and he goes and does this?!  He can’t help but get more brusque with Phantom, to the point it starts to interfere with group dynamics, and it prompts even Starfire to tell him off for it.

Danny confronts Dick privately to tell him off for being a total dingus.  As far as the two of them are concerned, Kor’i and Danny are basically siblings now.  He’s knows Dick has a crush on her;  that’s why Danny has been trying to talk him up to Kor’i so she’ll give him a chance, and his attitude is not helping.  Dick needs to CHILL OUT!

Robin: … Who?

Phantom: You live with her for pete’s sake! How do you not know her first name?!

This is also where it comes to light that Robin/Dick doesn’t actually have any dating experience.

Robin is a super popular super hero, leader of his team, and supposedly smooth and charismatic.  Dick Grayson is the adopted son of Bruce frickin’ Wayne and beloved by the public. Danny’s at the bottom of the social ladder and he still got a date with the most popular girl in school. Twice!  How are you this bad at girls? 

Either way, things with Robin start to calm down and the group dynamic returns to normal (though Danny will never let him live down his lack of love life).  But things in the training room start to heat up. 

Starfire and Phantom now have a much better understanding of each other’s limits, and the gloves are off.  The whole tower shakes whenever the two of them spar together, and they’re both experimenting with new ways to use their energy powers after seeing how the other uses theirs.  Phantom even manages to give Starfire a black eye for the first time, and she’s ecstatic! It’s a Tamaranean thing.  In their culture, it’s an accomplishment when a younger sibling to visibly injures the elder sibling for the first time.  It shows how much the younger has grown and how well the elder has taught them.  Starfire is super proud and posts it all over SpaceBook.

But Phantom has ulterior motives for pushing Starfire the way he has been.  No one knows his strengths like Starfire does.  More importantly, no one knows his weaknesses the way she does.  If there’s anyone who’d know how to stop him…

Phantom asks Starfire to be his contingency plan, and explains everything that happened in The Ultimate Enemy, about his future self, what he did, and how terrified he is if he one day becomes that.  If that ever happens, he wants her to be the one to take him out.

Don’t try to talk him out of it.  He already gets it enough from his friends and sister that it won’t happen.  That he’s a good person.  He doesn’t need to worry about that, etc.  He’s heard it all before, but… None of them have actually agreed or promised to end him if it does happen.  And if it does… his friends are only human, and they couldn’t stop him before.

Starfire agrees.  She can see how important this is to him, and she won’t lose Danny to a dark path the same way she lost her sister.  The wave of relief that washes over him breaks Starfire’s heart.  These must be the horrible feelings that led him to develop the Ghostly Wail.

Still, she is confident that this future won’t come to pass because he chooses not to let it happen.  She, too, has been flung forward into a bleak future, but she knows nothing in the past, present or future is set in stone.  She fought and changed the future with her own two hands.  She’s knows Phantom is strong enough to do the same. 

While Dick and Danny were never really good at staying in contact with each other, Kor’i is and keeps up her relationship with Danny even after he “retires.”  She knew months before Dick of Jason did that he took the job at Arkham and is happy for him.  It may not be the career path he wanted, but he found a good job and a way to still help people without his powers. 

<<Prev

[letstrip13]

⛓️ - couple's costume

summary: when you and chris get home from a halloween party, you experiment a little

warnings: smut, use of handcuffs, oral m!recieving, no actual sex (p in v) also still wondering how that started

word count: 1,247

author's note: first halloween special fic!! sorry this ended up being late, i had so much to do and couldn't find any motivation to write. are we surprised i didn't stick to the schedule though? no ofc not! anyways the next fic should be out tomorrow

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you and chris enter your apartment hand-in-hand, both tired from the events of tonight. a friend of his had thrown a costume party and of course you guys wanted to go.

chris slumps down on the couch, letting out a fatigued sigh as he relaxes against the cushions. you kick your high-heeled boots off, glad to finally have that part of the costume off after the long night.

you sit down on the couch next to him, letting out an identical sigh and resting your head on his shoulder. the handcuffs attached to your costume made a sound, and as you sat down, it caught his attention. he runs his fingers over the cool metal, “hey d’you think these things really work?”

you shrug. “m'not sure. wanna try them?” he nods and takes them off the belt loop on your costume that they were attached to. you hold your wrists out in front of him and he carefully moves the metal to circle them and closes it, making sure it’s not too tight on you.

an excited grin takes over his face as ideas course through his mind. “put ‘em on me,” he suggests as he takes them off. you repeat what he did to you and this time you break out in a smile, the exhaustion from the party being forgotten.

the both of you get up and go into your bedroom. chris wastes no time and kisses you as he gets comfortable on your bed, pulling you down to straddle him with the handcuffs still in your hands.

he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, making you part your lips as his tongue explores your mouth. it's so familiar yet there's a different energy about it, knowing you're trying something new.

he leads the pace of the kiss, making sure to go slowly and take the time to get lost in the moment together. there's no rush here and you know it. he pulls away and reaches for the handcuffs that had since been abandoned on the bed. “can we try something?” he asks, almost shyly, a side to him you don't see often.

“what do you want?” “i want you to put them on me.. and you decide. do whatever you want to me.” your eyes light up with excitement. he's never let you be in charge before. “really?” he nods with a smile on his face as he passes you the handcuffs.

“can you take your costume off first?” he eagerly does as he's told, standing up and stepping out of the orange “prisoner” jumpsuit. you watch intently as he's now down to a white wife beater and his boxers. “get on the bed, my love,” you instruct him.

he sits on the bed, making himself comfortable up by the headboard. you straddle his lap, the handcuffs in hand. “are you ready?” “yes, go ahead.” you position his wrists and the handcuffs in a way where he's chained to the bed before securing it, being careful not to close them too tightly. “does that feel okay?” “yeah, perfect.”

you can tell by the way his hips are subtly moving that he's really turned on right now. that, and the bulge in his boxers that wasn't fully there a minute ago. you sit back on his lap in a comfortable position to kiss him. you take your time, starting with his lips then going along his jawline and neck, making sure to go over all those spots that drive him crazy.

you kiss a trail down his neck, then his chest, then his stomach, and finally his happy trail. this elicits a small but sharp groan from him, making it known that he craves more contact. “please-” he murmurs.

“i'm not done teasing you yet. i'm getting you back for all the times you did this to me, baby.” his head falls back as a whine escapes his lips. you run your hands up his thighs, even placing a few kisses on them, doing anything except touching him where he needs it most.

by this point, there's a large, wet patch on his boxers where precum had been leaking out. you run your finger over it, saying in a low voice, “making such a mess for me already.” he hisses at the contact. your fingers hook in the waistband of his underwear as you slowly pull them down his legs, his hard cock springing up to hit his stomach. precum continues to leak out of the tip and down the shaft as it practically throbs beneath your gaze, begging to be touched.

you teasingly blow cool air onto the tip, causing him to buck his hips up in response as a whimper leaves his mouth. you spit on it, watching it trickle down his cock for a moment before spreading it with your hand, stroking up and down at a pace that's almost painfully slow for him. “o-oh fuck, i-” he moans when you finally touch him. “you're not saying you’re close already, are you? i might have to stop.” he frantically shakes his head no, almost causing you to giggle.

with your hand still circling him, you lean down to teasingly lick the tip, earning a louder than expected groan from chris. you do it a few times before taking it into your mouth, being careful not to go any further. he bucks his hips again, causing you take a few inches into your mouth. you pull back and look into his eyes. “don't do that, baby, or i'll have to stop.” he sheepishly nods, “okay, i won't.”

you go right back to what you were doing, taking more into your mouth over time while working on the rest with your hand. every time you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull away just long enough for him to calm down before going right back to it.

he involuntarily bucks his hips again, forcing him deeper into your throat. you don't say anything, you just look up at him through your lashes. “m’sorry. i didn't mean to,” he rambles, “need more.” “you want more?” he nods. “okay, my love, i'll let you cum now.”

you take as much of him as you can, deepthroating him as he loudly moans. he can't control himself anymore, leading to him forcing his cock further down your throat. you try your hardest not to gag as he fills your throat, the both of you more focused on his pleasure.

before you know it, he's writhing and squirming on the bed, crying out your name as he shoots his load into your mouth. you swallow it all, continuing to suck him off more, wanting every last drop. he squirms at the sensitive feeling until it becomes too much, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “no more,” he whines. you respond by letting his softening dick out of your mouth with a soft pop.

“how was that, love?” you ask as you reach up to free him from the handcuffs. “s-so good,” he says breathlessly. you toss them on your nightstand and you take a moment to lay there with your head on his chest. he wraps his arms around you and plays with your hair.

you break the silence after a few minutes, sitting up. “let's get you cleaned up.” he sits up with a yawn, sleepily mumbling something unintelligible as the both of you go into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

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[calder]

In every mainline Fallout game except for New Vegas, players can earn the loyalty of a dog known as “Dogmeat.” As part of the main quest of Fallout 4, Dogmeat assists in tracking down the antagonist, even if the player has never encountered him before. When you leave Kellogg’s home, Nick simply starts talking about Dogmeat as if he’s a known quantity.

Perhaps related to this quirk of the world, Dogmeat is first named in this game when the clairvoyant Mama Murphy recognizes him and addresses him by name. The game’s UI calls him “DOG” until he is recognized by Valentine or Murphy. It seems clear that this german shepherd is somehow an independent agent with a good reputation, or something.

Dogmeat does not have a loyalty quest associated with him, which is how the player would earn the other companions’ perks. However, upon finding Astoundingly Awesome Tales #9 within the Institute, Dogmeat becomes more resistant to damage. While this isn’t coherent or conclusive evidence of Dogmeat being a synth, it’s plainly prompting the audience to consider that idea. In light of these factors, his origins have been fiercely debated among the community.

The skeptics and “hard sci-fi” fans out there would have you believe that he’s merely a famous stray dog who solves crimes. But I believe there's something more remarkable at work.

There's a section in the Fallout 2 instruction book called the Vault Dweller's Memoirs, where the player character of the first game recounts what canonically happened. Due to Fallout’s famously terrible companion AI, if you travelled to Mariposa with Dogmeat, he would consistently run into the force fields and get vaporized. So, in the Memoirs, we learn that this is exactly what became of Dogmeat Prime, in canon. He loyally sprinted into a wall of solid light, and disappeared. What if our buddy simply awoke in a new, confusing place?

In Fallout 2, Dogmeat must be found at the Cafe of Broken Dreams, which is explicitly a liminal space. It appears randomly to travellers in the desert. The NPCs within are frozen in time, such as a young version of President Tandi, who mentions that Ian went to “the Abbey,” an area cut from the game. To gain Dogmeat’s trust, the Chosen One must equip the Vault Dweller’s V-13 jumpsuit, which Dogmeat recognizes as belonging to his dead master. You can also attack him to spawn Mad Max, who claims ownership of the dog. Max fits the description of Dogmeat's original owner given in Fallout.

There’s also the “puppies” perk in Fallout 3, which enables you to restore Dogmeat, in the event of his death. “Dogmeat’s puppy” inherits his base and ref ids. In other words, they ARE the same NPC, just renamed. So, the way this actually articulates is that whenever Dogmeat dies in combat, you can find him waiting for you back at Vault 101. In practice, it’s almost Bombadilian.

Lastly, please consider the following developer context.

In June of 2021, the dog who performed Dogmeat’s motion capture and voice for Fallout 4 passed away. A statue of her was placed outside of every Vault in the China-exclusive sequel to Fallout Shelter. She still watches over each player.

River's owner, developer Joel Burgess, honored her in a brief thread about her involvement in the game, and shared much about his thought process and design goals while leading the character’s development. The Dogmeat project changed course early on, after Mr. Joel saw a new member of the art team gathering references of snarling German Shepherds. This motivated him to bring River into the studio, so the artists and developers could spend time with her.

He wanted to steer the team away from viewing Dogmeat as a weapon, and towards viewing him as a friend. Everything special about Dogmeat was inspired by River. For example, whenever you travel with Dogmeat, he’s constantly running ahead of you to scout for danger, then turning to wait for you. This was inspired by River’s consistent behavior on long walks. The only way they were able to motivate River to bark for recordings was by separating her from Joel while he waited in the next room. Reading the thread, it’s very clear that he hoped Dogmeat would make players feel safe, encouraging them to explore, and to wonder. In his closing thoughts, he said the following:

-Joel Burgess

Mr. Joel felt it was important to express that the ambiguity of Dogmeat’s origin in Fallout 4 was deliberately built into his presentation. He also felt it was important that you know Dogmeat loves you. Dogmeat was designed, on every level, to reflect the audience’s inspirations, and to empower their curiosity.

The true lore of Dogmeat is a rorschach test. The only “right” answer is to pursue whatever captures your imagination.

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

― luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.

[male-us-prison-experience]

WHY AMERICAN PRISONERS HAVE TO WEAR A UNIFORM

In (almost) all American prisons, prisoners are now required to wear a uniform (again). This uniform is either a two-piece, consisting of trousers and a shirt, with the trousers held up by an elastic band around the waist, or a one-piece, a kind of overall, a so-called jumpsuit, which is usually closed at the front with a row of snaps. Nowadays, these uniforms have short sleeves; in cold weather, prisoners often are allowed to wear a sweater underneath.

The appearance of prison uniforms in the United States varies from state to state and from institution to institution, and is usually determined by the prison authorities themselves. The uniforms are either made in a solid color - preferably orange, but also red, pink, green, blue, gray and yellow - or as a horizontally striped kind of zebra suit, colloquially known as 'prison stripes', with black and white stripes being the standard, but green and white, orange and white and red and white also occur.

Such prison stripes have become very popular again, especially in recent decades, and harks back to the classic convict uniform that was common at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century. The current striped uniform differs from this in two respects: the sleeves were still long at the time, and the stripes were much narrower. The jumpsuit version did not exist in the past either.

Prison uniforms are common in most countries, although they are usually not as strikingly designed as the American ones; as far as I know, prison stripes aren’t in use nowadays in any other part of the world. In Europe, it is usually a two-piece uniform in a grey or blue colour, which does not make a prisoner stand out very much in a larger crowd. This one underneath is from England.

In America, too, khaki or a blue type of denim was common in many prisons until a few decades ago. Regularly, it was even still permitted to wear your own clothes, at least in your own cell(block). That has changed. This picture shows a working crew of inmates in Texas.

What are the main reasons why prison authorities require all prisoners to wear a (conspicuous) uniform (permanently)? This is not only done – that morally controversial motive is often certainly present in the background – from the point of view of the call for a certain stigmatization, to make the wearer of such a uniform a social outcast, both to make him feel that himself, and to show him that way to others, the latter as a warning: watch out for this guy.

There are also a number of rational arguments for doing this. Searching for information on the internet, I come to the following motives based on various sites

1.First of all, safety. A (conspicuous) uniform makes a prisoner easily recognizable as such. Bright colours also make him clearly visible from a greater distance. It reduces the risk of escape attempts, because a prisoner is also recognizable to outsiders, and in his uniform it is less easy to mingle with the public unseen.

This is extra important because many prisoners - although usually only those with lighter sentences, and only those who are not considered really dangerous - do community work outside the prison during the day, as cleaning roads or digging fenches.

In order to prevent any escape attempts, they almost always have to wear leg-irons, but a recognizable uniform puts a stop to this too.

This recognizability is increased because the name of the correctional institution is usually printed in capital letters on the back of his uniform, in the case of prison stripes often in read.

Incidentally, that is one reason why prison stripes - also the standard outfit for the chain-gang - have become popular in that case. Since road workers often wear orange clothing, a prisoner in an orange uniform can be more easily confused by the general public. With prison stripes, that risk does not exist. They stand out in the crowd.

2. A uniform emphasizes the equality of all prisoners, and also the sharp distinction with the guards. It makes things much clearer for the latter; the risk of confusing the inmates with visiting outsiders (family, workers, doctors) is then minimal.

The obligation to wear a uniform moreover prevents the development of a visible hierarchy among the prisoners, which can be expressed in the wearing of expensive brand clothing; a discussion that also plays a role with regard to school uniforms. The risk of theft or violent robbery of each other's clothing is thus nil.

A uniform also strengthens the mental awareness of the inmates themselves that they are prisoners now, and thus has a positive influence on their behaviour: they become more compliant, as confirmed by testimonies of their own. This awareness of the loss of their citizen identity together with the loss of their freedom becomes even stronger if their prison number is printed on their uniform too.

A uniform hairstyle – in a number of American prisons, all new prisoners are not only forced to put on a uniform immediately upon arrival, but then also get a complete headshave – also contributes greatly to this. The pic underneath shows this transformation.

3.In line with this: a prison uniform also somewhat prevents gang formation – a major problem in American prisons – because gang members usually want to distinguish themselves by external markings.

The more strictly the uniform requirement is enforced, including THE WAY in which the uniform is worn – in the case of a two-piece shirt tucked into, or not tucked into, the pants, in the case of a jumpsuit all the snaps closed to the last, not only when going to court – the less possible this is. Prisoners are also always explicitly forbidden to make any changes to their uniform themselves, or to provide it with any 'decoration' (which could after all form a certain code).

4.With a prescribed prison uniform, which often (but not always) includes certain footwear, the prison authorities can ensure that all prisoners wear the clothing that, according to the circumstances, is the most practical and safest. No belts in the trousers (but elastic) or laces in the shoes, to prevent suicide. Cotton slippers or plastic sandals, to make it more difficult to run away quickly outside.

Sturdy short boots are often prescribed as work shoes, especially for the chain-gang, because in this case a heavy chain, secured with a padlock, is fastened around the (left) ankle of the prisoner.

Clothing with a minimum number of pockets, so that concealing weapons (and this can also be a knife from the kitchen) or contraband becomes much more difficult. In the two-piece uniform, the trousers have no pocket, the shirt only one, for a handkerchief or glasses. The same applies to the jumpsuit: a small breast pocket for that purpose is all, nothing more.

Jumpsuits have the advantage from a security perspective that they are not only a real eyecatcher, but also that they take a little longer to get rid of (to exchange for other clothing on the run) and offer more protection to the prisoner himself against potential anal rape; with a two-piece uniform, trousers can be pulled down by force more quickly.

5.A fixed uniformstyle also, on the other hand, offers the prison authorities the possibility to differentiate between prisoners themselves, with colour codes. It makes it possible to place prisoners of very different kind who live together in visible categories, from more to less (escape) dangerous. This is also useful for the guards, because then they know more easily who they should pay special attention to. Red in that case usually means dangerous, green safe.

This can also be done in the striped version, where black and white is standard, and red and white (or orange and white) is then also usually considered the biggest security risk, green again as the lowest.

[potofstewie]

The Mechanic

The Lowdown: All you wanted was to get your tire fixed on this hot summer day...and maybe a lil something extra to beat the heat. Luckily, your trusty mechanic Haganezuka Hotaru knows just what you need.

The things to know: AFAB!Reader, chubby!Reader, Blackfem!Reader, Teasing, both Reader and Hotaru are in their late twenties, hair pulling (m. receiving), domish!Hotaru, choking, missionary, body worship, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, overstimulation, attempted murder

Pairing: Mechanic!Haganezuka x Reader

W/C: 4.2K

A/N: This was, a 4-month struggle. Motivation was at an all time low, went on hiatus, reblogs were/still are scarce and I was in the lows. But then I said "you know what, my babies need to eat. I have to do what I have to do to make sure we eat." So I popped my pussy on this because as a mother I make sure my babies are fed their fanfiction. This fic was inspired by the above panel from GANSTA. ANYWAY ENJOY MWUAH

“Hey, Haganezuka!” 

You lifted your gaze towards an annoyed Kanamori who stood in the doorway of the mechanic shop. “It’s 97° right now! I’m leaving for the day so take a break, you hear Haganezuka?! That goes for you too, y/n! Don’t be a stubborn idiot like him!” He nagged before retreating into the air conditioned shop, not caring to wait on a reaction from the two of you. A soft sigh left your glossed lips as you gazed upwards into the cloudless summer sky, the sun harshly beating down upon the earth. All you wanted to do was get your tire changed but alas, Hotaru Haganezuka had other plans.

You had to agree with Kanamori, it was way too hot to be outside. Especially when you’re standing in a shadeless mechanic lot watching the very man that insisted on doing every little thing possible to your car from checking the oil to changing the battery. “Don’t be an idiot, a mechanic must always check these things! Just leave it to me!” Is what he proclaimed, arguing that you should be grateful that he was willing to do so much on the spot. Contemplating Kanamori’s demand, you looked back down at Hotaru, working in a silent frenzy as he changed your battery. 

You couldn’t tell if it was due to the heat or your emotions, but you felt your cheeks burn as you watched him. You didn’t mind admitting it, Hotaru was a bit of a looker; especially now. His long black hair had been tied back in a bun, loose strands sticking out and some on his forehead while his thick sharp-angled eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A black t-shirt rested on the back of his neck leaving his muscled torso exposed to the sweltering heat; the top part of his mechanics jumpsuit tied around his waist. Wiping the sweat off your chest with your tank top, you watched in silent awe as a single trail of sweat ran down his arm; bicep flexing with every crank of the ratchet. 

“Aren’t you gonna go inside?” You asked, watching his glove covered hands work with practiced movements. You stopped yourself from sighing as the image of his fingers rapidly pumping into your sopping pussy entered your mind. Instinctively gripping the bottom of your shorts, you tried to keep yourself in check, pussy squeezing at nothing but disappointing air. For about a year now you’ve had a thing for Hotaru. However, with his stand-off nature and how busy he was, it was a bit difficult to get closer with him on a more personal level. 

A throb rang inside you as you watched Hotaru slowly stand at his full height, leaning back slightly as desired hands held the old battery. “I’m busy. Why don’t you go in?” He wiped a few strands of hair away from his forehead as he set down the battery and picked up the new one, his sharp hazel eyes side-eyeing you from a half-lidded gaze. “It’s not like you’re doing anything. You’re just torturing yourself with this damn heat.” And with his last word, he leaned back into the engine, eyes focusing on the task at hand. 

You wiped your sweat covered palms on your shorts as you looked towards the street. Despite the heat being troublesome, people still walked around, loud music blaring from passing cars. “You know I only came here to get my tire changed. If anything, you’re the one torturing yourself with all this extra stuff.” You retorted, settling your gaze back to the man next to you as you crossed your arms.

“You should be glad I’m doing this at all. For free, no less.” He mumbled, wagging the ratchet in your direction. You played with the hem of your tank top as Hotaru grabbed his shirt and wiped his face, dark eyes fixated on your plush thighs that soaked in the sunlight, giving them a delectable glow. He softly exhaled as he eyed the bit of fat that spilled from your shorts, the fabric being a little tight on your thighs. He’d give anything to touch your thighs, to have them encase his head as he sucked on your sensitive bud and licked at your drenched folds. To feel your thighs wrap around his waist as he pounded into your tight cunt relentlessly.

“Why for free? Not that I’m complaining.” You inquired, desperately hoping to get a full conversation out of the asocial man while snapping him out of his lewd thoughts. If the conversation wasn’t about cars or the neighborhood kid Tanjiro that accidentally destroyed his prized motorcycle that one time, Hotaru would be a clam. With a sigh, he closed the hood before facing you, finally finished with his self assigned work and leaned on the side of the car.

“Think of it as a one time deal, you are a valued customer after all.” He answered plainly, trying his hardest not to watch a sweat drop disappear down your cleavage. You hummed at his answer, curious eyes traveling across the prominent veins in his crossed forearms. You envisioned his work worn fingers encasing your throat, his words almost going out one ear. “However, I wouldn’t mind some dango as payment.” 

“Just..dango?” You stepped closer to him, confidence flowing through your veins. Maybe it was the heat getting to you or the boredom of doing nothing except standing around, you didn’t know exactly what came over you. But you hoped that maybe he too was on the same page. You couldn’t be any more right. With the ghost of a smirk, Hotaru uncrossed his arms and closed the gap between you both, the smell of his cologne wafting into your nose. You felt immense heat rise to your cheeks as he slowly took off a glove, one by one pulling it from his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“You got something better?” One glove off, the other to go. You bit your bottom lip slightly as you nodded, your cherry flavored lip gloss enchanting him. With his pointer finger and thumb loose in his glove, Hotaru scoffed, happy about the new direction the day was taking. “You wanna show me, pretty girl?” With a quick tug, he finally took off his glove and shoved them in his back pocket before quickly pulling you closer, evoking a soft gasp from your lips. As a soft hum rumbled from his chest, his rough hands found refuge on your soft and plump ass; rubbing it in slow, small circles with slight pressure from the base of his palms as if he was a masseuse. 

“But, we’re out in public..” You said slowly, trying to remind him of where the two of you were but you couldn’t help but stare deeply into his lust filled eyes, his gaze slowly lowering to your agape lips. With an answering hum, Hotaru squeezed your ass slightly before placing his thumb under the hem of your shorts, the digit rubbing the lace on your underwear. 

“So?” He said simply, thumb and finger lightly tilting your chin up as he inched his lips closer to yours. “Let ‘em watch.” And with a short exhale, his soft lips crashed with yours; your lip gloss making its sticky mark on him. A soft moan escaped your throat as his tongue swiped at your bottom lip; asking for permission. You felt another, more harsh, squeeze on your ass as you caved in and gave him entry, his tongue immediately exploring and dancing with your own. The warmth of his velvet lips did nothing but cause you to sink further into the addictive feeling of lust that overwhelmed your senses. You were caught in a mind numbing daze as Hotaru finally pulled back from the intense kiss, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. 

As soft pants left your messy lips, he left a small, ticklish kiss to your neck. “I don’t wanna give them an entire show..c’mon.” With a sly smile and his hands still cradling your ass, Hotaru began to walk towards the shop, forcing you to awkwardly walk backwards. A chuckle left Hotaru as he relished in the awkward position he had you in, finding enjoyment in your flustered expression. 

“Hotaru..” You pleaded, your mind buzzing with the endless things that could happen, your pussy pulsating with every step taken towards the office and light squeeze Hotaru would gift to your plump ass. Once you both crossed the threshold to the messy office, his lips immediately found yours again, lightly nipping at your bottom lip as he pushed the door closed with his foot and guiding you to the messy desk. Momentarily removing himself from the sweet taste of your lips, Hotaru wiped off all the papers that were strewn on the desk before roughly planting your ass on the width of the dark wood; eyes swimming with carnal desire. 

Rubbing his hands up and down your thighs, Hotaru left a hot kiss on your clavicle before latching on and evoking a soft moan from your mouth. Kicking off your slides as your nimble hands snaked their way up to his neck, pulling off the shirt that he left there before tangling your fingers into his dark hair. You tugged gently at his scalp as he started peppering his bites and kisses all over your chest, a low groan slowly leaving his body. Pulling away once more, his eyes zeroed in on the cute stomach pudge you had. He wanted to run his rough hands over the soft body part and be hypnotized by it. Lifting off your tank top and pulling down your bra, Hotaru dived back in for his new target, mouth latching onto your nipple, his tongue running over your dark areola.

A saccharine moan was ripped from you as you felt his teeth nip and pull at the hardened numb while his rough hands unclasped and threw your bra to the side before gently pressing on your stomach, urging you to lay back. Following his command, you could feel his hands snake even lower, fingers tugging both your shorts and panties off. On instinct you widened your legs, the cold air kissing your folds while Hotaru brought his waist closer between your legs, still preoccupied by your irresistible breasts. Placing more kisses, Hotaru trailed them upward to your neck before stopping, his thumb lightly touching your clit. You released a soft whine as his thumb slowly started to massage your clit in small circles.

As his mouth left marks upon your neck, your hand gripped his forearm as you felt his fingers slowly enter into you. Feeling a sharp canine graze your warm skin, you released a soft gasp that signaled Hotaru to pump his fingers into you slowly. Lewd noises echoing in the office with every slow draw back and hard pump his fingers did to your pussy. 

“I know you want more than this, right ma?” He teased, his pants growing tighter as he soaked in your naked body. Fingers prodding your folds and getting themselves coated in your slick only deepened Hotaru’s hunger for you, for your taste. With a slight nod, your hands found themselves fondling your breasts awaiting whatever action this man would do next.

With a deep hum, Hotaru licked his fingers clean of your nectar before trailing more of his hot kisses south. From your neck to your stomach and to the edge of your clit, his searing kisses sent tingles up your spine. As he left kisses on the inside of your thighs, you couldn’t help but squirm a bit, the anticipation killing you. “Don’t rush me, Princess. I’m getting there, just leave it to me, alright?” He spoke, his breath gently gracing your impatient cunt. With another hum, his mouth finally latched onto your pussy, an airy moan leaving your lips. Hotaru’s tongue ran itself over and between your folds that were accompanied with intervals of harsh sucking to your clit. 

Soft mewls drifted from your lips as your fingers traversed and gripped and tugged onto his black locks, undoing his bun further while your other hand kneaded and rolled one of your abandoned breasts. His rough hands held your thighs with an iron grip as you squirmed and relished in the feeling of his warm tongue gliding in between your folds, drinking in your nectar. With a final suck on your clit, Hotaru began dragging his tongue upwards on your body; stopping right in the valley of your breasts as the interesting taste of your cocoa butter lotion settled on his tongue. 

Raising himself up, Hotaru couldn’t help but be immersed in the beauty your body exuded, from the pudge of your stomach to how erect your nipples were as they battled the cold air. Muttering a low “fuck” to himself, he slowly started to undo the sleeves of his jumper that were tied to his waist and watched your once blissed face contort to one of anticipation and desperation. Hotaru knew exactly what he was doing, taking his sweet time, testing you. Seeing how far he can go with his slow, sensual movements before you snapped and pleaded with him to run his rough hands on your body once more. 

With his head tilted down and eyes looking up at your face through his dark lashes, his hands languidly freed himself from his clothing, the ghost of a smirk gracing his façade as he watched you take in the view. Your body shivered with both excitement and worry as he finally stood before you in the nude. A dark happy trail guided your curious eyes downwards to his hardened dick. In all its 8-inch glory, his hardened dick carried a bead of precum on its reddened mushroom tip; a large vein adorning its underside. With a bit lip, you watched with desire as he lined himself to your entrance but stopped abruptly, tip a mere hair breadth from your impatient and needy cunt. It was almost like a shot of molten lava coursed through your veins when your eyes angrily shot up to his face and witnessed his mouth slowly form into that of a mocking smile; mischief ladened eyes watching your reaction. 

“Are you fucking for real right now? You’re a fucking di-” Your insult was cut with a breathy inhale as you felt his cock finally enter your sopping cunt, the stretch giving you a burning yet intoxicating sensation. A shuddered breath of pleasure morphed into a low chuckle as Hotaru relished in both your reaction to his cruel teasing and to the feeling of his cock slowly being engulfed by your warm walls. His rough hands held you by your waist, eyes watching your chest shudder with each inching movement within your pussy. 

“What was that? I didn’t hear you..” Hotaru teased as your hands encased his own as his pelvis finally met with your skin. With a slow sigh, Hotaru rubbed his thumbs on your hip bones, giving you a chance to get used to his size. Giving you a chance to talk more shit. 

“C’mon, tell me what you were gonna say, I wanna know..” He mocked as he slowly drew his hips back, the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the ridges of your pussy eliciting a soft moan from you. You squeezed his fingers as you screwed your eyes shut, trying your hardest to contain your annoyance. Despite how much you hated the teasing and mocking Hotaru has been doing thus far, you couldn’t help but enjoy the throbs his cruel actions gave to your pussy. 

“I-I said you’re a fucking dick!” Your declaration ended in a squeaked out high note as Hotaru harshly thrusted into you, the desk creaking with his action of shutting you up. Choked out gasps and mewls from your gloss smeared lips interlaced with that of the creaking wood as Hotaru began his cruel treatment to your squelching pussy. Your legs quickly wrapped around his waist as your pussy finally got what it had longed for.

Admittedly, you didn’t know what you were expecting when this moment finally arrived. Yes, you had your expectations in the dark of night when your fingers occupied the warm and soft confinements of your pussy; your mind thinking nothing but how big you hoped he was, if he was either a rough and carnal lover or a slow sensual one, even if he preferred doggy over missionary. But this, ohh, this was beyond your expectations. The pulses of pleasure that emitted from your pussy and traveled throughout your nervous system, the iron grip he had on your waist, and the low grunts and groans rumbling from your favorite mechanic was nothing you expected yet all that you had dreamed for. 

An airy chuckle escaped Hotaru’s lips as he sank further into the pure bliss of his cock being squeezed by your greedy cunt, a nice coating of your cream decorating his equally pleasure hungry cock. The sight of that alone sent shockwaves throughout his body, urging him to thrust faster. Removing his bruising grip on your waist, he unwrapped your legs from his body and pushed them towards your head; work worn hands holding the backs of your knees as sweet moans fell from your mouth at the newfound depth, Hotaru swearing under his breath as he felt his tip give your cervix bruising kisses. 

“Look at all that fucking cream..acting like you can’t stand me, shit..” A rumbling groan interrupted Hotaru’s dirty mocking, the tightness of your pussy nearly sending him into a nonverbal state. “But I know that if I stopped, you’d beg for more..” Hotaru leaned forward, pressing a lopsided kiss to the side of your knee as he drank in your cock drunk expression; lidded eyes rolling back and staccato moans wavering from your agape mouth. Hotaru’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance with your lack of answer, his hips abruptly stopping as a hand encased your throat. 

“Hey, answer me. I won’t start again if I don’t get an answer.” He demanded, ignoring how your abandoned leg pitifully kicked in the air for his grasp again. Your mind was too fuzzy to properly grasp just what was going on, but a quick squeeze to your throat brought you to attention. “You gonna beg for more, mama?” The belittling question dripped from Hotaru’s mouth like honey as you whined, wiggling your waist to finish what you both started. 

“Fuck! Yes, I need you! Please, Hotaru, keep going!” At your wits end, you finally answered the man’s degrading question, body desperately craving for its release. With a satisfied low hum, Hotaru began again but faster; the desk getting louder with each harsh thrust gifted to your needy pussy. You could feel the sticky liquid your pussy oozed out pool onto the desk as Hotaru’s hands nearly folded you in half; the mechanic close to his own relief. 

A rough hand came down to your sticky and stretched pussy, thumb rubbing circles on your sensitive clit that sent bouts of pleasure through your body. Each swift movement his thumb did against your puffy bud, you couldn’t help but have your pelvis follow close behind. His thumb goes up, your hips raise. His thumb goes down, your hips follow. The intricate yet harsh dance your bodies did resounded in the dusty office, the desk crying out from all the force, warning of splintering damage.

Your mechanic was absolutely enchanted with it all. He enjoyed seeing your pussy practically be a suction cup; with each draw back your cunt seemed to hold on, practically begging him to stay inside, begging for him to keep going, begging to be painted white with his seed. “I’ll m-make you feel good..fuck, just leave it to me..” Hotaru promised before folding you even further, lips roughly melding with yours and swallowing every pathetic mewl and moan. His lips traveled to your jaw as your vision became spotted and blurry; your release approaching steadfast. 

“ ‘M gonna- ‘M gonna, fuuck, ‘M-” Your choppy declaration couldn’t leave your spit covered lips properly as each thrust interrupted you and forced you to restart your sentence. If Hotaru had half a mind, he would’ve stopped right in his tracks again and have you plead for your orgasm. Fortunately for you, his own release was nearly there, evident by his thrust getting ever so sloppy with each push into your stretched pussy. 

“Y-yeah? Gonna cum f’me baby?” His words sent a throb to your cunt, your head nodding sluggishly. A breathy chuckle left Hotaru as your hands encased his own that held onto the back of your knees. “Fuuck, you can do it baby..cum on this cock, lemme hear you..” As if on command, your body jerked. A choked, drawn out moan resounded from your mouth as your back arched up, your orgasm running its course through your body. 

You pussy contracted on his dick with every jerk your body did as you endured your powerful yet anticipated release. It felt as if you reached nirvana; bliss being the only thing coursing through your mind. Your mechanic, on the other hand, was starting to lose it. He wanted to keep going, to drag this out as much as possible, but your orgasm did nothing but foil his plan. Sweet, high and barely restrained whimpers tumbled from his lips as he basked in your contractions. 

Coming down from your high, you couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation of his thrusts; Hotaru’s pathetic whimpers coaxing you to pay attention to him, to see your quick to anger, hard to understand and hard to socialize mechanic be reduced to a pitiful state as his orgasm finally arrived. 

Hotaru’s whimpers abruptly stopped as his hips staggered, only producing miniscule thrusts as his hot cum decorated your tight and sopping walls; his fingers twitching with each pulse of cum. As if a switch flipped in his head, your mechanic groaned deeply and loudly as his body lurched forward, subconsciously trying his hardest to go as deep as he possibly could into your cum stuffed pussy. Shaky, heavy pants heaved from him as you groaned softly at the newfound sensation of his cock emptying inside you, some of it oozing out of your cunt. 

Sighing heavily, the spent mechanic slowly and carefully pulled out, eyes entranced by the sight of your mixed liquids stretch into thin lines connecting you two as his cock fully left you. Long, rough fingers lowered themselves to your entrance and separated your folds more, the gentle action sending a slight shockwave through you. He was absolutely enthralled by your gaping and abused cunt. His fingers continued playing in your pussy, ears completely deaf to your moans of overstimulation. 

In and out. In between folds, up and down. Those were the simple yet powerful dance moves Hotaru’s fingers did, his mind blank besides the fascination of seeing your messy cunt decorated. This state of mind was similar to the one he’d be in whenever working on the current machine in the lot. Your legs twitched with each move his fingers did against your battered and bruised pussy. “H-Hotaru, you’re gonna make me cum..” your soft, tearful declaration received no response from the mechanic who was too deep in his work. 

To your, albeit painful, enjoyment, his fingers kept dancing nonstop despite your mewls and words of pleasure. With hitched breaths, you couldn't help the pleasure formed tears decorate your lashes as your second orgasm came fast approaching. Cum coated thumb and pointer finger gently pinched and rubbed your clit, your sensitive and delicate bud eliciting electricity through you. As if on cue with Hotaru’s newfound enjoyment with your clit, your second release finally came. 

Saccharine moans dripped from your mouth as it washed over you, your body shivering with each intense pulse of pleasure. It wasn’t until you reached out and gripped Hotaru’s veiny forearm that he stopped his unintentional torture; his sharp eyes leaving their enchanted state and giving you a look of puzzlement. Hotaru was confused as to why you stopped him. Couldn’t you see he was busy toying with your pussy? “What’s the problem?”

An airy chuckle of disbelief flew from your mouth as you carefully raised yourself up on your elbows, dull pain starting to form below the waist. “You’re awful, y’know that ‘Taru?” Hotaru’s large hand encased yours as he pulled you forward, helping you sit up properly. A slowly growing smirk adorned his face as it finally dawned onto your mechanic what he’d done. 

“What do you me-” Before he could properly feign innocence, a loud crash emitted from outside followed by a loud and rushed ‘I’m so sorry, Haganezuka-San! It happened again!’ You watched your mechanic in absolute confusion as he swore loudly and hastily got dressed, rushing to pull a knife from the desk drawer. “That fucking idiot! Tanjiro! Don’t run away from me!” 

“Wait!-” Your words died out as your ever so hot tempered mechanic ran out, not caring to clean you up or even just talk to you for a bit. You sat there, stumped on what just transpired, your mind running over all the things that happened from watching your crush fix your car, getting absolutely fucked out of your mind by your crush, and watching your crush attempt to murder a child. Truthfully, you wondered if moving forward in the future with him as your new source of pleasure was worth putting up with his attitude. As the dust particles in the air floated and the ticking of the wall clock filled the silence of the room, you reached your firm conclusion.

It’s fucking worth it.

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2023

Tags: @chrollohearttags @tojisblondebimbo @toji-dabi-wife @comatosebunny09 @nymphoheretic @spaceforher @love-2-fast @p3ach-gyals @itmightbejo @jellymantra33 @bontensbabygirl @chickenwingsandfries3425 @starrbright @sleepdepriveddork @haji-me-mashite @namjoonsbuspass @koyukiki @twisteddaydreams1135 @garie-gary @heavenlysageee @prettypurplebirb @bigmooncheeks @mousepillz @jenuchi @lunerenzo @bigmooncheeks @heibunniie @doveyrei @wntrsblvd @gobblethiskitty @ezay @marusatonanhin @chile-im-embarrassed @thickbihhwitdagapp @conniesluvrgyal @jasminefaerie @namidaass @tiazvni @ffushiquro @partypom @dawn-bunni @katymae12344 @iluvlay0111 @breadslut69 @grungedog13 @levismommymilker3000 @unknownaqxa @bookworm0ctavia

[lostreverb]

things never change (pt. 2)

(post-prison!warren lipka x fem!reader) in where you cross paths with an old friend

content: angst, some fluff? maybe?

a/n: this was really fun to write in the most awful way my heart is sobbing. but i've always wanted to write a post-prison!warren fic so.. yay?

part 2 requested by @tracysent!

(here's part 1 if you haven't read)

--

when warren had left your unconscious body on the couch he returned to ghosting you. you thought you'd never see him again, until about a year later when your mom called you and told you to put on the news. "4 college students arrested for attempted robbery at transylvania university" was the headline. the story dominated local channels for weeks.

ultimately, your father never pressed charges against warren for stealing his painting. the monet remained exactly where it had been, still the centerpiece of the room—though now sporting a few dings and dents on the frame. nothing you couldn't replace without him noticing.

when your father heard the news, he practically jumped for joy.

"i told you that boy was nothing but trouble!" he exclaimed, his hands planted firmly on his hips as the screen showed four figures in orange jumpsuits walking out of the courthouse. "i'm glad he got out of your life when he did. couldn't imagine what it would've been like if, god forbid, he had gotten you wrapped up in something like this."

warren had already broken your heart twice. this time, he completely shattered your sense of self. did he ever care about you? had he only gotten close because you were well-off? or was it that the painting on the wall, the dream of quick riches, was just so much more enticing and valuable to him than you were?

you had talked to him about it before... dreams. warren fantasized about a life, outside of kentucky, maybe starting on a yacht in the bahamas and then traveling the world. it seemed so outlandish from the empty parking lot you were sharing a joint in, but you admired his ambition. to think you would've followed that idiot anywhere he went. hell and back. anything he would do, anything he went through, you would've been by his side. but now the reality was clear: your relationship was a one-way street that went miles on.

even though that night he had told you that he missed you, that he loved you while you lay underneath him. it was all just a mental diversion. a way to keep you docile while he served the only person he loved: himself.

it took years to put yourself back together, to trust again, to believe that someone could love you without an ulterior motive.

then that near decade of work— therapy, long conversations with friends, countless nights of self-reflection— was put to the test in one moment.

"..y/n?"

you looked up from your laptop, startled. there, standing before you in a philadelphia café, was none other than warren lipka. his long hair, once wild and untamed, was now brushed back, though a few loose waves still escaped from behind his ears, giving him that same effortlessly disheveled look you had once found so endearing. he had grown a short beard, the kind that hinted at maturity but still carried a touch of the boyish charm you remembered. despite the years that had passed, his face was almost exactly as you remembered—those sharp, familiar features that had once been the center of your world.

especially that damn smile of his.

"mind if i sit?"

you nodded, motioning to the chair across from you. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating. after all, with work, you hadn't been getting much sleep lately.

"i almost didn't come over, you know—didn't think it was you," he admitted, taking a seat. "but you know what tipped me off? that necklace."

you looked down at the delicate silver necklace, the one your grandmother had given you on your 16th birthday. the pendant, a small locket engraved with intricate floral designs, had once been her most cherished possession. when she placed it around your neck, she had told you stories of her youth, of love lost and found, of the strength she had needed to build a life on her own. she had smiled at you, her eyes filled with pride and warmth, and said, "this is yours now. a reminder that you're never truly alone, no matter where life takes you."

after she passed, the necklace became more than just a piece of jewelry. it was a tangible connection to her, to her wisdom and her love, something that kept you grounded when the world felt too overwhelming. you took a vow to never take it off for any reason, except to clean it. to you, it was as much a part of you as your own heartbeat.

you had shared this with warren one night, during one of your midnight dates. about your grandmother, about the promise you’d made to yourself regarding the necklace. it wasn’t a story you shared with many people, and when you spoke, you did so almost absentmindedly, not expecting him to truly listen. but he did.

"when did you…?" you started to ask, unsure how to finish. no one had told you warren had been released.

"almost three years ago," he replied, looking down at the table. "did seven years and some change."

"wow…" the word slipped out before you could stop it. warren, who had valued his youth so much and feared wasting his life away, had lost the entirety of his 20's just like that. the fact that he had come out on the other side seemingly unscathed was astounding.

as the conversation continued, you found yourself slipping back into an easy rhythm with warren, the years of distance and pain seeming to fade with each exchange. he told you about how he had decided to go back to school for filmmaking. it was a surprise, but also somehow made perfect sense. warren had always been drawn to storytelling, whether it was through his wild, grandiose dreams of the future or the way he could captivate an entire room with a well-spun tale.

“it’s funny,” he said, leaning back in his chair, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. “after everything, i realized i wanted to create something that actually mattered. something that could make people feel, you know? i guess sitting in a cell for years gives you a lot of time to think about what you really want to do with your life.”

you nodded, genuinely impressed by his determination. “filmmaking suits you, warren. i can see you doing great things with it.”

“thanks, it’s been a journey, but i’m excited to see where it leads.”

when the conversation shifted to your career, warren listened intently as you shared how you had built a successful career in business consulting. you explained how you had worked your way up, navigating the corporate world with determination and a relentless drive to succeed. you spoke of the challenges you faced, the late nights, the difficult decisions, and the satisfaction of seeing your efforts pay off. it wasn't quite what you imagined for yourself all those years ago but you were happy with what you had.

“yeah, i could tell you were a big shot,” warren grinned. “there was never a doubt in my mind that you wouldn’t be.”

“thanks…” you replied, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

there was a brief pause, and you noticed warren’s expression shift to an almost hesitant look. he leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

“can i say something?” he asked, his voice softening with a sincerity that was almost disarming. “might be crossing a line, but i have to say it… you look just as fucking beautiful as the last time i saw you.”

the world stood still, frozen, as you processed his words. you felt your breath catch, your pulse quicken as you searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was a raw honesty that left you momentarily speechless.

“warren…” the way he was looking at you, as if no time had passed at all, threw you for a loop.

"i know, i know," he chuckled, looking down as he fiddled with a sugar packet. "don't want to get myself in trouble with your husband—or wife… whatever…"

"i'm… actually single…"

warren stopped fiddling with the sugar packet and looked up at you, his gaze steady. he didn't move his head, just stared at you for a long moment before shifting in his chair, his eyes drifting off to the young couple seated nearby. you had noticed them too when you first walked in.

"make sense kinda... you're genuinely too good for anybody, anyway. deserve way better than what most people have to offer.."

a heavy silence settled between you and the sounds of the bustling café faded into the background, except for the laughter of the couple nearby. their easy, carefree joy was a stark contrast to the weight of the moment you were sharing with warren. each second of silence felt like an eternity, amplifying the pain and confusion swirling inside you.

finally, warren broke the silence. "i’m sorry—and i know that when i say that word, you have no reason to believe me—but i am. it haunts me, the things i've done… leaving you there…" you could see the struggle in his eyes, the guilt that had clearly been gnawing at him for years.

you wanted to brush it off, to protect yourself from the flood of emotions that his words were stirring up. "that was 10 years ago," you replied quickly. "no need to bring it up."

warren shook his head, not ready to let it go. "i just wanted you to know that i loved you...i tried to convince myself that i didn’t… that what we had wasn’t real. i hadn’t even planned on seeing you again until i got desperate for cash and wanted to skip town. my biggest mistake was leaving your bed that night."

his words hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over the walls you had so carefully built around your heart. tears began welling up in your eyes, the sting of emotions you thought you had buried long ago. you turned your head, looking away, desperately trying to compose yourself, to regain the control that was slipping through your fingers.

but then, warren's hands gently clasped around yours. the warmth of his touch was both familiar and jarring, sending a shiver through you. you had thought you were over this—over him. you had convinced yourself that seeing him again would be nothing more than a footnote in your life, a chance to hear him out and move on, finally closing that chapter for good.

but all those preparations, all the mental rehearsals of how you would remain composed, indifferent even, had crumbled the moment he smiled at you. that damn smile, the one that had always been able to disarm you, to make you forget all the reasons you should be guarded.

as he held your hands, you could feel the sincerity in his grip, the way his fingers tightened slightly, as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that you might slip away again. the flood of memories, the good and the bad, rushed back, and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free. you blinked rapidly, trying to push them back. you didn’t want him to see you like this, to know just how much he still affected you.

warren’s gaze softened as he watched you, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i know i don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “but i need you to know that i never stopped thinking about you. even when i tried to convince myself that it was over, that we were done… i couldn’t let go. i still can’t.”

part of you wanted to pull away. but another part, the part that had loved him so fiercely all those years ago, wanted to hold on, to see if maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to salvage.

"i don't know if i can do this again... i- i hear you... i believe you it's just-"

“i understand,” he said quietly. “and i don’t expect you to just forgive me, or even give me a second chance. i’ve made too many mistakes for that. but… i want to try. i want to make things right. even if that means starting over, from scratch, just as friends.”

“friends,” you repeated, testing the word on your tongue. it felt strange, almost foreign, to think of warren as anything other than the boy who had broken your heart. but maybe, just maybe, this could be a new beginning—a way to heal, to move forward without being shackled by the past. "i'd like that"

"me too."

[clownprincebingo]

Wasted Time

In which Norm MacLean realizes how he might not have much time to waste anymore.

Fluff, Norman MacLean/gender neutral reader

628 words, just a short thing because i’ve got short king brainrot (feel free to lmk if you’ve got ideas for norm fics, preferably fluff or light angst hurt/comfort <33)

Norman rushed to his family’s empty compartment to rid himself of the dirt and grime he’d gotten covered in as he and his cousin investigated Vault 32. His mind was spinning, trying to piece together everything he’d seen and come to some kind of logical conclusion.

His body on autopilot, he showered and dressed in a clean jumpsuit, fighting for any possibility that didn’t mean his world was crumbling around him. He’d always been cynical, even paranoid at times, but he never expected to be right about any of it.

As soon as he had zipped his jumpsuit up, he left to find the one person he knew he could go to, to convince him he was overthinking things and help him piece this together: you. His feet took the familiar walk to your place, one he’d made a million times throughout his life. As he stood in front of your door and knocked, he tried to figure out how he was going to tell you about this.

You opened the door, smiling and immediately stepping aside to invite him in.

“Norm, hey, what’s up?” You asked, and in that moment something in his brain snapped.

The Vaults aren’t safe, something bad is happening, nothing is guaranteed. He stepped inside, barely even processing the familiar surroundings as he reached up and cupped your face, bringing his lips to yours.

You two had only ever been friends, but Norman had wanted to be more since…honestly, since he was twelve, and you wore your hair differently one day and he finally took notice of the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Every day since then his feelings have only grown, and he’d pushed it aside in hopes of maintaining your friendship, telling himself he had plenty of time to figure out how to tell you.

But he doesn’t have plenty of time. Something is wrong in the Vaults, and he might be ruining everything between them but he had to know what it felt like to kiss you, even if it only happened once.

He moved his lips against yours, tilting his head slightly as he felt you beginning to return the kiss. One hand slid from your face to the side of your neck, trying to bring you closer still. He’d wasted so much time, he wanted to make up for it all immediately, while he still could.

Your hands rose to rest on his elbows, and Norman’s heart raced as he pulled away from your lips. His eyes fluttered open, seeing you just inches away with a dazed look on your face.

“Whatever happened to ‘hello?’ “ You asked, the words coming out quiet and making Norm’s knees go weak as you chuckled.

“I just, I was tired of pretending like I didn’t want to do that,” He said, hoping you weren't upset by how forward he’d been. “Was it, are you…is that alright?” He asked, suddenly feeling like he should’ve taken things more slowly.

“Honestly, it took you long enough,” You wore a soft smile as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Norman smiled as you pulled away, realizing you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“I know, sorry about that.” His mind was uncharacteristically hazy as he held you in his arms, taking in the sight of the blush creeping across your face in the aftermath of all that had happened. He gently pulled his best friend towards him again, reconnecting your lips as he tried to impart every ounce of feeling he has for you, and memorize exactly how this felt. With how things were looking he was going to need something to motivate him to keep going, and he was all too relieved to have it be you.

[aquariusvulpix]

Steven: *texting Wallace* how's the meeting?

Wallace: Terrible. Give me motivation not to kill everyone here.

Steven: Having to wear an ugly orange jumpsuit in prison.

[harlowtales]

Y/N feels trapped with a baby on the way and Jack distances himself to think

18 Plus Only - Adult Themes and Content

Nobody knew you were pregnant yet. You asked Jack to wait to even tell his family as it had just passed 3months and you didn’t want to jinx it. He was being super paranoid not letting you do anything, and barely go anywhere. He was hyper about germs and the cleaning lady had to be extra careful about how she disinfected every surface.

“Baby come on wash your fucking hands” Jack said one day exasperated and whipping out wipes to wipe your fingers like a child.

“Jack I can lick my fingers I’m at home.” You shot back with your mouth full of popcorn. “Hey when are we going out tonight?” You asked casually assuming you would be going to The Hub with your fiancée and asking to see what time you should get ready. Pregnancy was already making you more tired than usual and you wanted to take a nap before you left.

“Uhh WE?” Jack asked you back

“Yes. When are we leaving?” You repeated

“Baby.” Jack said calmly and sat down looking you in the eye “You won’t be going.”

“What??” You fumed “What the fu…” you firmly clamped your mouth as Jack was trying to not swear around the future baby.

He shot you a disapproving glance. “Please babe, stay home from now on k? Can’t have you in the mix anymore.” Jack explained and thought that would be that with a kiss on your forehead.

“Oh the fuck I’m not going. I’m not sitting home pregnant while you go out and girls seeing you ALONE?? Are you mental?” You raged.

“You don’t go on tour with me and I behave” Jack said to his credit. “You trust me I know you do. You just want to party.”

“No…um not true.” You said as he caught you in your true motives. You loved being out and hanging with everyone. “C’mon baby…Pleaaaassee” You begged flashing your megawatt smile and fluttering your eyelashes.

“That ain’t gone work.” Jack said sternly

“What about this.” You said going down on your knees and starting to pull down his sweatpants.

“Ok baby stop. You’d suck dick to get to go?” Jack said laughing.

“I’m going to be trapped for months after the baby is born.” You said pouting to which Jack finally relented.

“Ok mama you can go.” He said “But I’ll take a rain check on that sloppy toppy, I got some stuff to do before we leave.”

You took a nap and woke up around 6PM to get ready to go. Excitedly you texted your friends Jack actually said yes. You were only slightly showing with a hint of a bump. Most people had no idea you were pregnant, and you weren’t a heavy drinker so the fact that you turned down alcohol the last few weeks didn’t raise any eyebrows either. Urban knew and a couple of Jack’s friends who did security for him when he went out. This was to ensure you had extra protection.

You put your hair up in a ponytail with a longer extension for fun and put on a jumpsuit that wasn’t too tight to give the secret away. To go to the Hub you didn’t have to dress up. Jack thought you looked adorable which got him going even more than you looking ultra sexy.

“Mmmm” he said looking you up and down and pulling you close. “Can I jump in your jumper with you?”

“You passed on a blow job remember?” You reminded him as he kissed you.

Just then your driver and security buzzed up, it was time to go have fun one last time.

The energy of the club is what you needed. You dodged Jack and his friends successfully until the club started getting full. Jack sent Timo to hunt you down and bring you to where he was heading to behind “the wall”. “The wall” was the literal wall Jack’s friends formed in front of him when he went out to clubs so no random people could get too close to him.

Unfortunately for you who had just been convinced by your friends (who didn’t know you were 3 mos pregnant) to dance on the bar and you took the challenge, not because you were drunk but because you just wanted one last crazy thing to do.

“Whooo!! Go Y/N!!” They encouraged you as you twerked a little sticking your tongue out with plans to come down right away but Timo caught you and Jack spotted you texting Timo furiously “BRO TELL HER TO GET DAFUQ DOWN!” Jack texted in all angry caps.

You were in the process of coming down when you met Timo face to face as you touched the ground with his help. “Y/N! You are in trouble young lady.” He said sternly “Come with me.” He said taking you by the arm and whisking you off to where Jack was waiting beet red. You looked back at your friends who felt guilty for egging you on.

“Don’t” Jack said turning his head away as you went up on your tipi toes for a kiss. “I can’t even talk to you right now.”

“It’s called having fun old man.” You snapped “ I went up there on a dare for 2 mins”

“Can you act like a mother for 2 fucking seconds?” Jack angrily whispered. People nearby were trying to hear what was going on but fortunately the thundering bass drowned him out.

“Maybe I would act more like a mom if I wasn’t trapped!” You shot back hurting Jack deeply. All he had been doing was protecting you. He said nothing in return and sipped on his water to calm down. He reasoned you were being emotional given you were pregnant.

“Ok fine. 2 can play this ignoring game.” You said to him to which he pretended not to hear knowing it drove you nuts.

“Ok girly let’s go to the bathroom.” Urban’s girlfriend said taking you away to talk about what was going on with you. It was not like you to be so irresponsible. For once she agreed with Jack. “What’s going on mama?” Azura said kindly hugging you.

“He tells me what to do CONSTANTLY!” You said bursting into tears.

“He does always tell you what to do. Jack is like a stern father, I don’t know how you stand it.” Azura said trying to influence you to jump to Jack’s defence. Her and Urban had just got back together and she didn’t want to see you go through fighting with Jack while pregnant.

“Jack is not a stick in the mud” You said in his defence which Azura knew you would. “He is just trying to…oh I see what you’re doing. Nice one, making me realize my man just wants the best for me and his baby and maybe dancing on a bar is a bad idea.”

“Bingo!! You catch on quick” Azura said sarcastically making you laugh.

“Ok girl let me go apologize to my man.” You said feeling horrible for how you had spoken to Jack.

He was vibing in a corner not talking to anyone. The way you had acted had him down. He had fulfilled his obligation to appear at the club so he was just waiting for you to get out of the bathroom so the both of you could go home. He should have stuck to his guns and made you stay back. Now gossip blogs were going to be reporting about your 5 secs dancing on the bar and the obvious argument the two of you had. When they did the math months later and found out you were pregnant when you were up there, it’s going to be a mini-disaster.

“Ready? We’re leaving early, I have an early morning.” Jack lied.

“Baby…Jackman” You said reaching up to turn his sulking face to yours “I will never do anything like that again. I love you”

“Babe…no come on” He said avoiding your kiss as you reached around his neck to pull him down to you. He was really irritated and sad. It took you by surprise that you couldn’t work your magic and smooth it over. Urban and Azura exchanged concerned glances as you and Jack made your exit.

He was silent all the way home which thankfully wasn’t far from the condo. It was so awkward. When you got back you didn’t push him to talk to you and got ready for bed. Usually by now you guys would be joking again already. Jack didn’t come to bed with you. He sat in his studio room listening to a beat on loop with a pen and pad out. You tossed and turned while you heard the muffled beat through the bedroom walls. When you tipi toed into the studio you found him laying on the floor staring at the ceiling like he often did when he felt depression setting in. There was a whole bunch of scrunched up balls of paper that he had missed the waste paper basket with.

You said nothing and laid down on the floor in the same position next to him. At first he didn’t notice you and then glanced over but maintained his silence. You took a chance and reached out to hold his hand. He took it slowly and held it gently giving you a sense of relief. “Nice beat.” You said quietly

“Thanks. Clay made it.” He said expressionless

“Writer’s block?” You asked referencing all the crumpled up paper on the floor.

“Um sort of” He said turning to you propped up on his elbow “Do you believe in destiny baby?”

“To a degree. I’m not sure.” You said honestly turning to him. “Why?”

“I dreamt you and then I met you.” He said with a whimsical smile taking you by surprise and giving you tingles. “And now you have a part of me inside of you. We’re bonded forever now. Do you understand that means everything to me?”

“Not until now. I…I have felt trapped and sometimes…replaceable.” You said blinking to hold back tears coming.

“I could never do better than you.” Jack said moving closer and kissing you passionately. “Will you just trust that I always mean to do right by you?”

“Yes Jack I will.” You nodded as tears started to fall down your cheeks and he wiped them.

“I will always be here for this moment and wipe every tear as it falls.” He vowed in a near whisper. That’s it!! He said suddenly making you jump. “That’s the song! I’m unstuck! Thank you baby.” Jack said kissing you roughly on the head and leaping up to grab his pen and pad.

“Happy to help.” You said sarcastically “Don’t stay up too late.” You said yawning and heading to bed.

“Oh I’m coming to get some don’t worry” he said looking at your ass in your pyjama pants as you walked away.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice

[kiwisugarhighs]

Raid The Closet

Summary: Harry being away is hard on his kids, so until he comes home, they develop a tradition every night he plays.

Warnings: fluff, dadrry, brief mentions of underwear/nudity

Word Count: 882

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I've been down in the dumps lately so my motivation to post anything has been low :(

masterlist

"Alright, everyone. Sit up straight for Daddy! He's calling soon!"

Your kids were buzzing with excitement as they waited patiently for the phone to ring. They were in their pajamas, ready for their concert tradition with Harry. They huddled around your laptop, holding their tea or stuffed animals as they discussed what Harry might have in store for them tonight.

The time change was difficult when he was on the other side of the world, but Harry always made time for the kids. If he had to call early in the morning, he would. If he had to call in the middle of a workout, he would. Harry took the moments he could spend with his family seriously, even if he was on the other side of the world.

You stood in the kitchen making some tea for yourself when your oldest shrieked: "He's calling Mummy!"

"Do you remember how to answer the phone?" You asked from around the corner.

"Yes!" They all responded.

"Okay, go ahead and answer. I'll be right there!"

There was a brief moment of eager silence when the kids picked up. You smiled to yourself and finished making your drink when you heard Harry's voice through the phone.

"Hi Daddy!" The kids said. "We miss you!"

"I miss you too! How is school?" He asked.

The kids rambled excitedly about science projects and book reports and choir performances and Harry listened enthusiastically to every word. He nodded eagerly and demanded pictures for every new accomplishment. When he watched you walk into frame, his already joyful face lit up even more.

"Hello, love." He said to you.

"Hi, baby. Where are you right now?"

"I'm backstage actually. Do you want to see?" he asked.

"Yes!" The kids watched intently as they got the tour of the small green room.

Harry showed them their drawings pinned on the wall and the teddy bear the picked out before he left sitting on the couch. When he set his phone up again, he was sitting on that same couch, holding the bear from his children.

"Okay, now that Mummy's here, I need your help deciding what to wear."

Harry rifled through his tour closet through jumpsuits, leather pants, and t-shirts. He showed the kids every single one, listening closely to their approval or disapproval. He loved this tradition with his family. It made them feel closer to him than they really were. He could connect with his kids consistently through this practice.

After a few minutes of searching, Harry set out the top three choices.

"Okay, which one out of all these?" The kids turned to you and huddled close.

"I like the teddy bear t-shirt." Your youngest said.

"Me too!" Said the oldest.

"I like the pink pants." Offered the middle child.

"I think that's a perfect outfit! Are you ready to tell Daddy what you think?" The kids nodded to you and turned around again to face Harry.

"Okay, baby. The kids have made their choice!"

"Alrighty, lay it on me!" He shouted dramatically, making the kids giggle.

"We want the teddy bear t-shirt and the pink pants!" Said the youngest. The kids all had their hands folded in anticipation while Harry set out their choice.

"Hmm." He pretended to think. "Let me try it on for you."

Harry disappeared off camera for a minute before coming back to grab his clothes. He tossed his old shirt across the camera, putting on a show for the kids. His pants went flying off next, and your youngest couldn't contain the laughter falling from their lips.

"Daddy's naked Mummy!" They all shrieked, laughing harder than before.

"Just in my underwear! But not for long!" Harry shouted distantly off camera.

After a moment of silence, Harry poked his head back into the frame. He smiled brightly at you and the kids.

"Alright, are you ready to see it?" He asked.

"Yes!" You all responded.

Harry disappeared for a second and walked back into frame wearing the outfit his kids picked out for him.

"What do you think?" He asked you all, doing a spin and pose.

"You look very handsome." You smiled.

"Ew, they're in love." Your oldest cringed.

Harry was beaming at your praise. He watched as the kids smiled at him and finished their drinks. He did a small dance and showed them his shoes before checking the time.

"Alright, I've got to run. Are you being good for Mummy?" He asked.

"Yes." Your kids responded.

"Are you being good to each other?" He asked again.

"Yes." They replied.

"Good. Line up and give me kisses before I sing!"

One by one, you all lined up and blew Harry a good luck and good night kiss. He caught every single one and threw them back. When everyone was finished, he waved goodbye and sent one final kiss your way before ending the call.

"Okay, everyone, up to bed you go!"

The kids groaned and slowly dragged their feet up the stairs. You tucked each of them into bed and just as you were turning in for the night yourself, you noticed a message from Harry.

Thank you for doing this every night. I miss you all so so much! I'll be home before you know it! xx Dad