#pool coupon for this week

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[polydamnory]

Poly D.A.M.N. Crew Headcanons (because I’m legally required to)

Once again, some of these could also apply outside the context of them being in a polycule and that works too lol

Freelancer will paint any of the others nails if they’ll let them (Hux and Gavin let them do it the most) 

Dear and Gavin made it a weekly thing to have lunch together on campus 

In the event that they were to all live together, Damien is usually the one in charge of  grocery shopping - mainly because of all of them, he’s the most particular about what brands they use for certain products/foods. Also you can’t tell me this man isn’t a master at budgeting/couponing. 

Damien and Huxley aren’t allowed to team up when they do chicken fights in the pool anymore - they’re both arguably some of the strongest of the group (they’re constantly working out after all) and after winning literally every time except against Gavin, the rest of them declared the rule that they have to team up with the others to make it fair. Hux just rolled with it but Damien still acts all cocky about it whenever it gets brought up. 

They try to do a movie night every two weeks and cycle through who gets to pick what they watch each time. Lasko made a chart to track it and everything. Lasko has also tried and succeeded only once in getting everyone to agree to a full on Lord of the Rings extended edition marathon despite trying again several times afterwards. Dear has been the only one to agree to do it again afterwards - not that the rest don’t like the movies, they just don’t think they’ll be willing to marathon them like that again. 

Gavin and Freelancer are the resident “distractors” and get kicked out of the kitchen fairly frequently because half the time they’re helping cook they end up “doing things” with the other person in there 👀

Huxley likes playing with the others hair if they’ve given the okay for it - he already knew how to braid and the like, but at some point he began learning how to do more complicated hairstyles and likes doing them for his partners 

Dear and Damien end up having to team up and ensure everyone else is wearing sunblock - Damien does not listen to Gavin when he says that as a demon he doesn’t need it, he has to put some on 

When struggling to find someone or something out in public, especially in large crowd, Huxley has gotten into the habit of just kind of grabbing one of his partners and putting them on his shoulder so they can get a higher vantage point 

Huxley came up with the idea that they should all show Gavin stuff they enjoyed from growing up, whether that be shows, movies, or going places typically meant for youths, because “just because you didn’t actually have a childhood doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to experience one.” They took him to a bouncy castle park and got a good laugh at how uncharacteristically ungraceful he was. 

They all had to basically flee an ice skating rink when they all tried to go together. Gavin wouldn’t stop teasing/flustering Damien and he accidentally melted a portion of the rink. It was an unempowered run rink so the chance of them getting caught/blamed wasn’t too high but they all still ended up fleeing like their lives depended on it. 

They are all constantly stealing Huxley’s clothes to wear. It’d bother him if he didn’t think it was really hot to see them in it.

They've been trying to branch out in the types of games they play together and one genre they’ve been experimenting with is survival games. They’ve tried a few but the one they all seem to like the most is Raft and it gets chaotic. It’s not a strict rule or anything but they’ve also all sort of fell into their own unspoken roles for it: Huxley is always the go to for gathering supplies on islands, Damien’s typically either doing home defense or off trying to kill one of the hostile mobs (the poison-puffer always drives him crazy), Dear’s gathering the underwater supplies because obviously, Freelancer is in charge of gardening and cooking the food, Lasko’s on a hundred different websites and wikis making sure they don’t miss anything/actually know what they’re doing as well as navigation, and while Gavin spends most of his time pretty evenly helping everybody else out, he most often is gathering the supplies from the water, or, on occasion, fishing. (Sorry not sorry that this one only really makes sense to those who also play Raft/watch others play it lol)

[chikaras-garden]

Mean Streak (reader's version)

Osamu is the world’s most perfect boyfriend: Sweet, doting, protective. He’d give you the world—but what happens when you ask him to be mean to you?

Pairing: dom!Osamu x sub!fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

Contains: soft! to mean!dom!Osamu, brat!reader, light breathplay, dumbification, dacryphilia, praise kink, degradation, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, piv sex, ruined orgasm, desk sex, chair sex, roughness, spanking, mention of a safeword, little hint of size difference, O calls R “baby girl,” “baby,” “little girl,” “dumb girl,” “good girl,” yes this was a wild ride

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked, Yachi’s version on ao3. Couldn’t decide if I wanted this to be x Yachi or x reader, so…I did both.

You’re pretty sure your boyfriend has a mean streak. He is Miya Atsumu’s twin brother, after all. They’re cut from the same cloth, mixed from the same pool of genes, but his temper is slower to rise than his brother’s. Even when he’s mad, he has a level of self-control unlike anyone else’s.

Instead of yelling at the toro supplier that’s actively trying to screw him over, he chokes down his words under a frustrated, throaty growl.

Instead of snapping at the customer trying to claim her food isn’t fresh, he smiles and offers a coupon while slicing a cucumber with so much force that the veins in his arm bulge.

Instead of putting Atsumu in his place before he starts getting annoying, your boyfriend just waits for his twin to make a fool of himself before calling him a few names that cut him straight to the core.

But, when you try to get him to be mean to you, all he does is raise his brow at you and pull you closer to his chest.

It’s hardly fair.

“You can have all the attention you want,” he chuckles every time you ask. Tucked in his lap, pressed up against his chest, the kindness in his words brings a pout to your lips. “I’ll spoil you until you cry—but baby, I can’t be mean to you.”

An idea forms while you’re waiting for Osamu to lock up the onigiri shop. Bored after finishing your last college class of the day, you’re just twiddling your thumbs while Osamu counts cash in his office. 

The first thing he did when you emerged through the shop door was vent about his day. First, there were more customers than he planned for, each one more impatient than the last that their onigiri had to be made fresh instead of grab-and-go. Then, one of the cashiers forgot that they had a dentist appointment and had to leave in the middle of the lunch rush. And, topping it all off, it’s Friday, which means that he has to close out the week’s worth of cash, and he keeps coming up with a different total every time he counts the bills.

Osamu is stressed. You would like to help him fix that.

You perch on his desk chair—stolen from in front of his computer—in the middle of the kitchen. It gives you a perfect view of Osamu, standing in front of his desk, framed by the bright white molding surrounding the back office door. But also, it means that he’s far away—at least, far enough that he’s not in arm’s reach, and that just won’t do.

Normally, you’d get up and drag the chair into his office to lean against him, or even give yourself a power nap snuggled up in the corner, under the ultra-coze industrial heat vent. But this time, you have a plan.

“Osamu,” you call, “aren’t you done yet?”

He sighs. It’s not at you (he would never), but at the fact that he just got pulled out of counting again. He drops the bills on the desk, sighs a second time, and picks them back up to start over. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

A small part of you feels bad for provoking him, but you’re so curious, so needy for a side of Osamu that you never get to see—that you keep up the pressure. You whine, draping your arms on the prep table in front of you and pressing your cheek against your bicep. This time, Osamu slams the bills down, all but crushing the stack of paper under his hand. 

You imagine white-hot stings that turn to red marks, then pretty purple bruises. You think the sound of skin on skin would be much nicer than skin on paper, and the idea makes heat crawl up the back of your neck.

“For the love of,” your boyfriend says, starting to sound perturbed. “Baby, what?”

Honestly, how well this is going comes as a surprise. All you have to do is sniff, turn your nose up at Osamu’s baffled face, and give him your best pout, jutting your lip out so he can see the glimmer of saliva atop kissable skin.

You imagine him grabbing you by the back of your neck, forcing your lips open, and shoving his cock into your mouth to wipe the pout off your face. It’s a good thing the shop is chilly: you don’t have to hide the shiver that electrifies your core.

Then, you see him raise an eyebrow.

He holds up an arm, palm facing the ceiling, fingers outstretched. He’s so muscular, so invitingly warm in a dark blue t-shirt. It’s a soft one; it’s one of your favorites because of the color, the way it feels against your cheek, and the way it skims his arms.

Arms that can carry several restaurant-size bags of rice.

Arms that you wish were carrying you right now.

“C’mere.” His voice is like sugar. The sound of him beckoning you makes your face run hot, and you feel yourself almost giving in right then and there. He speaks gently, without judgment; like he understands you completely, like your acting up is a symptom, not a cause. 

You don't expect punishment when he talks to you like this. So, you swallow, remembering what you set out to do. You fidget, knees knocking together, and find stability in gripping the cool metal of Onigiri Miya’s prep counter. 

“No.”

Osamu looks at you like you just slapped him. His arm drops to his side while he, slack-jawed, tilts his head. “What did you just say?”

It’s a chance to change your mind, to whine and fall into your boyfriend’s loving arms so he can caress your cheeks and fuck the bad mood out of you. You could choose to let him spoil you with the attention you crave until you’re teary-eyed and babbling, giggling with the joy of having your needs answered with a loving touch.

But then, you see the tightness in Osamu’s jaw. Your legs feel hot.

“I said no,” you huff.

Osamu stares at you for a beat, studying you while the air in between you thickens, growing warm and sticky with tension. You try to hold still and steady so he doesn’t come to the conclusion that you don't really want this.

“Come over here and let me look at you.” 

You sit still for a second too long, because he adds, “Now, baby.”

As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, he seizes you by the waist and yanks you into him. You stumble forward, crashing into his chest with a soft thump. With his free hand, he grabs your chin, balancing your face between his thumb and forefinger to force you to look at him. He licks his lips while he observes you, and you wriggles because he’s so close, his skin is so warm, you want his tongue on you—

He squeezes your hip hard enough to make you whine. “Stop.”

Osamu backs you up until your thighs brush against his desk. He nudges you, lowering his palm until he gets a stable grip to lift you onto its surface, now with stacks of bills tucked hastily back into the cash register drawer. “Are you going to tell me why you’re being such a brat?”

He strokes a thumb across your lower lip. Spurred on by your own tingling desire, you open your mouth to invite his finger in. When he presses his thumb down on your tongue, making you drool and whine against his finger, he sighs; it’s shuddering, a messy blend of disappointment, relief, and lust. 

“Was this all you wanted, baby girl? My attention?” His soft tone draws you in. Your head tips forward until he catches you with his other hand, now stroking your cheek. He’s chuckling, now, and uses his hold on your mouth to make your nod. It’s a sign, symbolic of the fact that he always knows what you want, even if you don’t. 

You whine around his thumb, and he instantly shushes you. Gently, so gently, too gently, he cradles your head and guides you to rest against his shoulder. His muscles betray him; though his voice and the touches he’s controlling are soft, the subconscious tension in his arms is tight like a loaded spring.

Releasing his thumb, you mumble, “Want you to be mean.”

He coos, tutting at you as if you’re a toddler demanding a unicorn for your birthday. “You know I can’t do that. Besides, I don’t think that’s what you actually want.”

You blink up at him, eyes already glassy. You see the face of a man in love and drunk on it; he smiles sweetly, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, but there’s something else. A flash of cruelty in his eyes, a tension in his neck.

“‘Mean’ means that I leave you like this,” he continues, nonchalant. “‘Mean’ means that I take you back to your dorm for you to take care of this all by yourself.”

He gives your cheek a squeeze, then slides his thumb right back into your mouth, hooking it inside your cheek. “You don’t want that, do you, baby?”

You were going to shake your head anyway, but he tilts his wrist to do it for you. Again, he chuckles, and your chest fills with warmth at the velvet sound of your boyfriend sounding so pleased. With every word, you feel fuzzier and softer, pliant to anything he says you want.

Then, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, leaving a pout behind. He stoops a little, crouching closer to your eye level. “I’m gonna give you what you actually want, okay? Need a real answer out of you, with words.”

Fuzzy as you may feel, you’re still (reasonably) coherent. You want Osamu, want whatever he has in mind, want to feel the results of your behavior as deeply as he’ll give. You’re teetering on the edge of your (and his) favorite headspace, a few perfect touches away from being blissed out and subby, all for him.

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay, who?”

“Okay, sir.”

“And your safeword?”

“Onigiri.”

“That’s right,” he coos. “That’s my girl.”

Osamu looks like a man wrestling with himself. He strokes your hips with gentle hands, sliding his fingers up under your shirt. But his arms, big and broad, strain. You can count the veins bulging under his skin, see how tight his muscles are, and oh, what you would give to be wrapped up in those arms for the rest of your life.

“Hey,” he interrupts. You look up and see the eyes of a worried lover. “I’ll never hurt you in ways you don’t like. Tell me as soon as anything’s too much, and I’ll go softer, understand?”

You nod.

“Yes or no, baby girl?”

“Yes, sir,” you insist. You lean forward slightly, entranced by the stern look on his face. He is the picture of control, looking at you in a way that conveys the internal calculations going on in his head. You think you’d like to help him let go of that, do what feels right instead of what he thinks is right.

You reach for the collar of his shirt, entwining your fingers in the soft fabric and tugging. “Please fuck me, sir.”

A low sound, thick with want, vibrates out of his throat. Those words went right to his cock, intensifying the growing bulge between his legs. You’re certain it’s making it harder and harder (pun intended) for him to concentrate; good, you think.

“Sit tight for a second.” He pats your hips and presses a kiss to your forehead. The gesture lasts one, two, three seconds, during which you can’t breathe. When he steps away, he’s biting his lip, hiding a grin—and then he winks.

You do not hide your grin from him. Instead, you let the flutter in your stomach inspire your feet to swing from your perch on Osamu’s desk.

After just a few seconds, he’s in front of you again, this time with the desk chair. He doesn’t wheel it, no; he picks it up, making it look weightless, and it looks like he’s flexing his arms on purpose to make you giggle.

It works.

“Thank everythin’ you’re wearing a skirt.” He grins wildly while he, with one hand on your waist and the other hand tightly gripping your fingers, helps you off the desk. Sure, you could do it herself, they both know, but you’d both much rather let Osamu handle everything. Falling into him and surrendering to trust feels good, and who are you to deny things that make your body sing?

Osamu flips up the bottom of your skirt and pulls, just slightly, so it’s hiked up around the top of your thighs. He gives you a look, and you quickly nod, which leads to him sliding your panties down your legs. Then, he nudges you to sit, and cool faux leather meets bare, burning skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes to stop yourself from shaking with anticipation. “I did it on purpose.”

“Of course you did.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Falling to his knees at your feet, Osamu looks at you with love: nothing more, nothing less.

He lays kisses all over your legs. Starting playfully, dotting your shins and knees with little pecks that make you giggle, he ends up open-mouthed, sucking shades of mauve, raspberry, and plum into the soft, sweet skin of your thighs. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs before kissing the juncture of your thigh and your hip. “You’re so beautiful. Like a work of art”

Then, his lips latch onto your clit, and he begins to suckle on your bundle of nerves like a man that hasn’t seen water for days, and a secret oasis resides between your legs.

Every time you moan, he sucks harder, creating a vicious cycle of action and reaction where his role and yours blur together. He makes you whimper with need, and he answers every one of your calls; he sets metaphorical fire to your trembling bud, and sounds of ecstasy erupt from your lips. 

Frustratingly, his tongue doesn’t go near your folds, never strays from your clit, treats this like an appetizer before tasting the sweet, wet fruit of his labor.

And then, he leans back on his heels.

You gasp at the loss of contact. Cold, artificial air rushes your clit, feeling like ice against his left-behind saliva, and your wriggle against the chair, not sure if you want to be closer or farther away from him. “S-Samu—S-Sir!”

“That was mean,” he tells you. You know—your mind and body feel the realization with agony, his teasing slicing through you like a sharpened blade. His bait-and-switch is unfair, so unfair that the lonely ache in your pussy hurts, leaving you shuddering and weak in the knees while he looks at you with a patronizing stare.

Not one to torture you for long, though, he leans forward again, brushing his nose up against your sex. You whine, throwing your legs over his shoulders to pull him closer, closer, until his lips ghost along the slick edges of your core. He sighs, blowing warm air into you in a way that makes you keen.

You reach and grab a fist of his hair, at which he grunts; with trembling lips, you resign to begging, “Please, please, sir.”

You get the raised brow again, a little gesture that makes you want to throw yout head back and cry out in frustration. “Thought you wanted mean?”

“‘M sorry, sir, I-I—”

“That’s right,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s over-the-top condescending, hinting that he doesn’t really mean it. You recognize the sound of Osamu’s voice when he’s electric, on fire with adrenaline. Every word is laced with a wicked degree of lust that makes your heart pound, makes you struggle closer to him. “My girl’s too dumb to know what she wants.”

Osamu runs his hands up and down your legs, then he grips your knees, wrapping your thighs snugly around his broad shoulders. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, caring, and full of love, but his smirk mocks the way you’re falling apart in his hands. “‘S okay, though. That’s why I’m here. You need me to take care of you, don’t you, baby girl?”

You rush to agree, nodding as you sniffle and press one of your thighs closer to Osamu’s mouth. “I-I can’t…I need you, s-sir.”

“I know, baby; I know.” To soothe you—because he can’t help himself—he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, then bites down until you squeal. You, unaware of what your body is doing to him, reward him with a sudden tug to the fistful of his hair you’re holding onto for dear life. He lets you lead him even though he’s fully aware that you’re not coherent enough to realize it; when you pull, he presses his nose above your sex, grazing his teeth along the flesh of your mound until he reaches the top of your folds.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he growls, right before he dives back in for seconds, tongue flat against your core.

He slides his tongue down from your clit to your weeping hole, dipping just the tip inside. For himself, he wants to savor your saccharine taste; for you, he wants to draw out your pleasure as long as possible, to hold you over the edge of bliss until you’re breathless because of him.

While he slides his tongue in and out of you, lapping from the bottom of your folds up to your clit, he swirls his tongue around your pert bundle of nerves, then angles his chin so his nose bumps against your clit with every downward stroke of his tongue. A waterfall of moans spills out of your lips, any word other than please completely forgotten from your vocabulary. He loves his girl, his polite baby, and as such, the ministrations of his tongue start to quicken, to become rushed and ragged because he, too, needs more.

Your vision starts to blur with pleasure, with tears. You’re close, so close, and you feel knots tying themselves in your stomach and your groin. Wordlessly, thrusting shallowly forward, you beg him not to pull away again; you were wrong, you want to cry, you don’t want him to be mean.

You chase the building high, follow the white hot light building in your vision all the way to your peak. Hips rocking forward, meeting his tongue with no rhythm whatsoever and knocking your clit against his teeth. Legs squeezing, pressing his warm cheeks into you until his 5 o’clock shadow scrapes angry marks into your thighs.

Right before your orgasm crashes over you, he pulls away again.

The sound you make is somewhere between a moan and a sob, and fat tears finally break free from your eyes as your blubber, choking and gasping on your ruined orgasm “N-No, sir, please.”

You don't get very long to cry, though, as he rushes to stand over you. His hands grab both of your cheeks and pull you into him, kissing you so deeply that your ability to think finally melts away completely. His tongue is in your mouth. You taste yourself on him: salty, sweet, musky. His fingers are as cold as ice against your burning skin, heat radiating from your cheeks, to your chest, to your stomach, to your groin. You fidget, but that makes him hold you tighter, pinning your soft cheeks between his calloused hands.

Whimpering, mewling against his lips, you paw at his chest. Broad muscle meets weak fingers, and you tug at the fabric in your way. You need him, need to feel him, need him to hold you now before all of your pieces fall apart.

Osamu pulls his tongue out of your mouth, but you’re too dazed to speak. He presses kisses down your throat, pausing only to suck on your collarbone while quick fingers make easy work of your sweater’s buttons. He glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, grinning as he presses feather-light kisses to the top of your chest. “What’re you crying for, pretty girl? This is what you asked for.”

You take a deep breath, arch your back, push your chest closer to his face. “P-Please, I want…”

When your voice falls off, too weak to finish your sentence, he gives you a fox-like grin. “You want?”

You whine, kicking your feet out behind him. One leg wraps around his waist, the other tangles behind his thigh. Your hands find stability in grabbing his forearms, and you fleetingly think that’s a mistake because he’s so strong and thick that your middle finger and thumb aren’t even close to touching.

“Good girls ask for what they want,” he breathes, letting go of one side of your face to brush his fingers down your throat. He admires you like a fine work of art, but there’s a determination in his touch. A plan, something he knows that you don't.

Asking for what you want is easier said than done when you’re fully clothed, let alone when you’re halfway to the best orgasm of your life. You know he just needs a few words, that you want to be good, and that he likes his good girl, but you struggle to breathe around the words while he, one-handed, unclasps your bra and starts caressing your breast.

“Did you hear me, baby?”

You blinked up at him, nodding feverishly.

He presses his thumb against the side of your neck. Your breach catches under the pad of his finger. “Then tell me what you want.”

His pace grinds to an almost total stop; just one hand keeps massaging your breast. You lick your lips, rock forward, and press your sticky forehead to Osamu’s arm. You sniffle, hot tears rolling off your cheek and into the crook of his elbow.

“I can’t,” you babble, barely louder than a whisper. “‘M sorry, I-I can’t.”

“Oh baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for being my dumb little girl.” At that, at the gentle tone he mocks you with, something snaps in your chest. You feel as if you needed to be broken apart to feel whole again; when your pride shatters, you cry more freely, face blotchy and wet with tears while you cling to Osamu for dear life. Underneath the cracked surface, though, you feel bright and new, shining bright from the trust you give him, and the safety he gives you in return.

Osamu pulls you up by your throat and you yelp, raising your head to stare at him with bleary eyes. 

“You’re fucking perfect, just like this,” he assures you. Then, he kisses you slowly, loops his arms around you to make you turn around, then presses you face-first against his desk. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh; your knees tremble and your hands buzz, not quite feeling the desk’s smooth surface under the electricity coursing through your veins.

And then Osamu spanks you.

It’s just one slap, and you cry out more in surprise than out of pain. Heat rushes to your ass while you whine, feeling the impact turn into liquid arousal dripping between your slick folds. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

You nod with all the vigor you can gather. To that, he spanks the other cheek.

“Yes or no, baby?”

“Yes, sir!” you blurt. You squeeze your eyes shut, ready, hoping for another impact that never comes. Instead, you hear a quiet, metallic clink, then ruffling fabric, then the sound of thin plastic tearing.

All signs point to being seconds away from getting your boyfriend’s cock, and your heart stutters with want.

He runs a hand up and down your spine, and you can’t help but note how heavy his grip feels, how he commands you with the lightest of touches. His other hand grabs your hip, holding you steady once he chooses the right position, lines himself up, and pushes into you with ease.

A throaty growl reaches your ears. You feel his day’s frustration melt away with every inch he stretches you open with, feel tension leave his body as soon as the tip of his cock brushes your cervix. All that’s left behind is his hunger, which he chases by picking up the pace as soon as he’s fully stuffed inside you.

Frustration is replaced with an insatiable desire that has him pounding you so hard that his thighs slap against the backs of yours, your ass slams into his hips, and you’re seeing stars. Your lips hang open while you gasp for air, and tears stream down your face, but your head spins, revolving around the bright moon that fills your sky: Osamu, Osamu, Osamu.

You aren’t sure just how many times he spanks you; you’re not counting beats to see if he’s keeping time with the unfair pace of his thrust. All you know is the feeling of clenching hard at every impact, making him groan every time his hand comes down on your ass, and you hear skin on skin, huffs of breath, and feral growls—all behind you.

Osamu.

“Too fucked out—shit—to think, huh baby girl?” He stutters through his words, barely able to form a complete thought of his own while he reaches forward, under your belly to find your clit from above. 

As soon as he touches you, you choke on a sob. You register a few words in his voice, but you can’t tell if they’re real, or you’re imagining them. 

“It’s—’s okay. I’ll think for ya.”

So fucking tight. 

Is this what you wanted, baby? 

Wanted to make—make me take out all my anger on you?

My perfect little f-fuckdoll.

Good—good girl. Good fucking girl.

Come, baby girl; come for me right now.

And, because Osamu knows what you want best of all, you do. You snap like a pair of chopsticks, splintering, messy, coming undone in a way that permanently changes your very structure. You feel different, made new, changed into something useful for him to satisfy his hunger.

Your orgasm ripples through you in waves that have you heaving. Warm skin, glassy eyes, wet cheeks, hips pressing back into Osamu to swallow him more. You clamp down on him hard, pussy spasming, sucking him dry, pulling an orgasm from him that has him draped over you: slick with sweat, biting down on your shoulder, hand tangled tightly with yours.

“Fuck,” he whines. Afterglow bubbles in your stomach, leaving you delirious and woozy; all you can do in response is whimper.

“‘Ve gotcha,” he slurs. After massaging his hands into your shoulders and down your sides, he winds his arms around your waist and hoists you up as if you weigh nothing. He balances your head on his shoulder and, in spite of his own wobbly, uneven gait, carries you to sit in his office chair, where you curl up in his lap.

“Sir,” you murmur, reaching to smooth your hands over his chest. 

He catches one, presses a kiss to every finger, your palm, and your wrist. “You did so good, baby girl. ‘S over now—you’re safe.”

You bury your face in his neck, too tired to do anything else. But, you do have the fleeting thought that, with him, no matter what you beg him to do to you, “safe” is what you’ll always be.

[zmediaoutlet]

Re: prev tags on the Sam driving post “I wonder if he and dean ever argue about gas money”

I hate that I even know the answer to this

but there’s canonical evidence they do.

In S12 (I don’t remember the exact ep but I had the screenshot on my phone) Sam’s email inbox is visible for a few moments on screen, & one of the emails from Dean is “you owe me for the gas I paid for last week”:

that's hysterical. And very dumb. Because it's on screen I'm forced to try to take the text as text as I always do, and I'm just gonna have to believe this is some kind of ongoing semi-injoke semi-bickerfest where they argue about money and one of them says 'why does it matter our money isn't even real' and one of them says 'it's kinda real, i mean we are wrecking mr dead guy's credit' and one of them says 'oh, what, are we balancing his checkbook too' and then you get shit like this, lol. Especially by s12! It's not like they're still hustling pool, money means nothing! What silly billies.

Separately, that screenshot also proves that: apparently Dean can't stop talking to Sam regardless of medium -- you live in the same house, why tf are you emailing each other -- that Sam helps with Impala part shopping, which is adorable -- and, I'm just gonna speculate here, Dean signed up Sam for the Biggerson's loyalty program as a prank. I hope they get birthday coupons.

[unamused-boss]

California Dreaming pt3

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Last part! Warning: Kinda short, but I still hope you love it!

Summary: Max and Billy could only agree on one thing in common.... and that was you. You were their neighbor when the lived in California and Billy had the biggest crush on you. Plus it helped that you babysat, more like hangout with, Max. You were his California dream. And sometimes dreams come true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't stand the time you had away from Billy. Your best friend and boyfriend were gone all in one on the same day. You've been writing to Billy which is a plus. Turns out he joined the basketball team. He's been to every party thrown in town, but he says they're all a bust. Met a guy named Munson that gets him weed, but Billy quotes "It's nothing like the shit in Cali...". You can't help but laugh at his sarcastic tones through the letters.

You know he misses it here. He tells you in every letter the love that he holds for you, that nothing will change. He admitted to going on some dates with girl to get you off his mind. He felt guilty, he wanted your forgiveness even though you told him to try an move on to at least have fun. Billy said ,once again, in his letter that he wants no one else but you. Your eyes were something he missed most of all. He said that you had a light in them that he felt only he saw. You always giggled when it came to the gushy stuff in his letters. Billy was a flirt with girls but he was a romantic with you.

Since graduating high school early you've had a lot of time on your hands. You were still gonna walk at graduation, you just weren't going to do anything else. Cause by god you are getting that dumb piece of paper in front of everyone. It was a couple of days before the week up spring break but for you it was a regular working Wednesday. You currently work at some clothing store in the mall and oh so excitedly deal with mother's trying to get some sort of deal out of you.

The time was 5:00pm you are now pulling into your driveway of your house for the night. Happy that your got off early you notice your parents aren't home yet. You make your way down to the mailbox to check for anything. Which you find a bunch of letters piled onto one another. You begin to sift through it.

"Bill, Bill, Coupon, post card from Aunt Shelly, Bill...y." You stop at, what you thought was another bill but was actually, a letter from Billy. You rush up to your front door to be able to read the letter. Throwing everything onto the kitchen table an make your way to your room. You bounce on your bed at tear open the letter...

Hello Y/N, I hope you are happy with what you're doing. I just read your letter. God I wish I could graduate early to get this shit hole. Anyways, Max is doing good. She still with those little balls of snot for friends. Hopefully you wrote her, so she can stop asking me to check the mail for your letters. I miss you very much. Spring break is about to start, since the public pool opened I got a job there. Hopefully I can get enough money to be able to come an see you and to stay with you. You probably already know me, I'm not really good at this writing shit. But if it's for you, I'll do it. I love you, -Billy

You smiled down at the words on the paper.

"I love you too." You said down to the paper. That feeling came back again. The feeling of wanting to see him. You can't help it, you miss him so much. You go over to your landline in the kitchen to lunch in a number you have memorized by heart now.

"Santa Monica airport, what can I help you with today?" The droned out employee said.

"Hey, I wanna know if you have any direct flights to Hawkins Indiana?"

"Hold on, let me check..." You hear a faint typing for a few seconds.

"Anything?" You question.

"None to Hawkins but we have one to Indianapolis flying out this Friday at 5:00am." They said.

"Perfect!" You shouted. "How much?"

"That will be a hundred an thirty dollars..."

"I've got that!" You race around to your purse to fish out your debit card to pay for the ticket. You give them the info to send the ticket via email for you to print out. It would be thirty more dollar but you didn't care.

"Alright, thank you choosing Santa Monica airlines tod-." You didn't even let them finish. You hung up the phone right away to go pack an call off work for the next week or so. You couldn't stop giggling the whole time. Seeing Billy and Max is going to be the best thing to happen to you in the past few months. Then you hear your front door open and shut. Then you realized something...

"Hey mom, I gotta tell you something!" You shouted running out of your room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were honestly shitting your pants the whole way to Hawkins from Santa Monica. You currently stand outside of Hawkins High School waiting for Billy. You slept during your flight over at 5 am but once you were on the ground you couldn't hold still. Your stuff is at the motel just outside of town for the next week.

You passionately waited for Billy to walk out of the school. You could see his car from a mile away. Plus with is reputation it wasn't hard to find out about him. You turned your wrist to look at your watch, 3:15 it read. the bell rang and school was out for spring break. Students passed by you, giving you weird looks.

"Who is that?" "Does Billy know them?" "Probably a desperate Ex." Were some of the things that were thrown around you. As if you couldn't hear the. 'Geez do these people know how to shut up...'

"Billy. Who's that?" An oddly pitchy voice said breaking you out of your thoughts.

Billy ripped his head around to you. You being the last person he would see by his car. The girl he, once had his arm around, was with was now forgotten. Billy thought he was gonna vomit at the sight of you.

"Shit.." You mutter.

"Holy fuck..." He said.

"Billy who is this?" The girl said once again getting annoyed. Billy turned back to her.

"Why are you still here?" He questioned. The girl now looked perplexed. She thought Billy was gonna take her out but now he wants nothing to do with her. Before she could say anything Billy spoke, "Go the hell away. Ya stupid cow..." He muttered the last part.

Billy walked up to you, star struck. He now had you trapped between him and the car with his hands on your hips. Holding you gently. You were smiling up at him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I wanted to see you." you said. "Is that so bad?" You teased him. When you both could call one another you would constantly tease him over the phone.

"No!" He answered quickly. "It's actually great, cause I was loosing my damn mind being away from you." You giggled at him. He his lips down to your temple, kissing you gently. To the students around you it was shocking to see Billy Hargrove be gentle with anybody. But to you this was your Billy.

"Y/N!!" A familiar voice shouted out to you. You turned to her direction to see Max running full speed to you. You part from Billy momentarily to hug Max.

"Hey MadMax!" You exclaimed. Even though Billy thought Max was a pain in the ass most of the time; he loved seeing you two together. He was happy that she got to see you.

"How long are you here for?" She questioned.

"I'm here for all of spring break." You smiled. They both looked at you dumb founded. You were gonna be with them for a week.

"Yes!" Billy said excitedly, pulling you into a hug. You laughed as he squeezed you.

"How about we go on a date tonight?" You asked him.

"Hell yeah!" He shouted. Crashing his lips onto yours. Desperation and love pouring into the moment. He missed your lips. How soft they were and smooth. He missed you so much.

"ew..." It was faint but you both knew it was from Max.

"Get in the car shit bird." Billy said.

"Hey be nice." You sternly said, mighty sapping his arm. He huffed at you, looking at you with soft eyes. The eye you fell in love with.

"Let's take Max home and we can go on our , much needed, date."

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Billy smiled.And that's how it went for the next week. You spent your time with Billy and Max, well more so Billy. Billy held you so close not wanting to let you go when you both cuddled. You met Max's friends and some more people around Hawkins with your small time there. You had some sleepovers with Max, trying to make up for lost time. Neil wouldn't do anything while you where here in town, so that meant a safe environment for Max and Billy even though it was for a week. You found the town cute, but you prefer Santa Monica.

Most of all, you and Billy got time alone. To be with each other in each others arms. Going on cute dates, walks, drives, everything. You became the envy of the town. The one that swooped Billy Hargrove off hid feet the spring break of 85'. He wouldn't have it any other way though. He would stay in this shithole town if it meant being with you.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to.

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to. 

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

That promise was made two months ago. In those two months you also visited Billy three more times over the summer. In your last visit you brought him back home with you. To California. You got him far away from his pain. 

You both have an apartment near the beach, like you both wanted. You stared college; while Billy started work at a car restoration shop. Billy could surf everyday while you laid in the sun. You both loved each other even more with every day that passed.

A California dream come true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know its a cheesy ending but I hope you like it.

@capitanostella

@maackiimoo

@mystargirl-interlude

[angel-of-the-moons]

uhm

Pavitr x wife f!reader: Pavitr noticed that the reader has been feeling really tired lately so he takes her to a love hotel 😌

The Escape

Pavitr x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, NSFW, smut, established relationship, marriage, PiV sex, protected sex (condom), morning sex, somnophilia (pre-established consent), grinding

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Pavitr is obviously an adult in this fic, so anons can stop screeching into my ask box

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

You had a very bad day at work today. First, your best mop broke while you were cleaning the main room of the building you were contracted to clean this week, then, you had to listen to your boss harp at you for taking too long when she said she wouldn't reimburse you or replace said mop you bought for work; the mop that was steam-powered and easier on your back to push around.

Now you were back to using a regular janitorial bucket and mop and god, you were hurting so bad.

You wanted to go home, crawl in bed, and sleep for a month.

You were just thankful today was the last day you'd have to clean that god-forsaken building, and you'd get to take two weeks to relax.

Of course, you'd do so with your golden retriever of a husband, Pavitr Prabhakar. His cuddles were some of the best ever, and you knew you'd be able to recharge the moment you snuggled up into him on your bed and drifted off to sleep.

What you weren't expecting to come home to, however, is packed suitcases neatly organized by the front door, Pavitr wearing an adorably dorky shirt with dog patterns on it, a big sunny grin on his face.

"Uh--Pav?" You blink.

"Okay, okay, I know this is weird!" He laughed, shaking his hands and rubbing the back of his neck. "But c'mon! I know you've been exhausted with work the past month, and now that you have a couple weeks to relax... We could take a trip!"

Your jaw hung agape as he continued. "I booked a hotel for us. It's on the edge of Mumbattan, but the view is amazing! I got lucky and scored some coupons in a raffle, so I only had to pay half price! It's one of those swanky hotels that normally cost like... two weeks worth of a paycheck. But I paid waaaaaaay less."

You felt your heart do a funny little flip at his gesture of love. "Pavitr..."

"I know." He smiled at you bashfully, holding your hands in his excitedly. "As soon as we get there, we can take a nice long nap, the two of us. Then we can order dinner or eat at the restaurant in the hotel!"

"What about.... Y'know. Your Spider-Man stuff?" You asked him.

"Well, things on the streets seem calm this past month, and I went on ahead and told Miguel what I was planning. He's not as scary as everyone says! He waved his hand off and told me to come home and take care of you. Cool, right?"

You made a mental note to bake some cookies for Miguel as a thank you for that.

"C'mon, lovie. Pretty please?" He said, sticking out his bottom lip and giving you his sweetest little puppy dog eyes.

You always caved when he did that...

"Okay, okay..."

"Yay! Now, I packed your suitcase for you so you don't have to do anything but sit and look pretty! Let's go!" He winked at you.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

Pavitr was not lying, the hotel was gorgeous. It had an indoor pool with a waterfall, a hot tub, and two restaurants plus a bar surrounding the swimming areas.

You two ate at one of the restaurants, and despite your exhaustion, you were enjoying yourself. You were having a wonderful time and trip with your darling goofball of a husband (who tripped and fell in the pool because he wasn't watching where he was going, soaking his clothes all the way through.).

When you got back to the room, you and Pavitr took a nice long bath together, taking turns washing each other and running fingers through each other's hair.

When you dried off and flopped down onto the plush bed--you didn't even bother with nightclothes--you decided it was the perfect way to end the night.

But Pavitr had... other ideas. You felt his warm hand on the curve of your spine and you turned your head to look over at him, and his eyes were so warm and patient.

"Heyyy... I'm not done spoiling you, yet, lovie." He said softly to you

"Pav, I don't think you need to do more for me for the rest of my life. Today was amazing." You sigh sweetly with a smile.

"No, no, this is definitely something you need." He hummed, getting up off the edge of the bed and walking over to his suitcase, rummaging through it until he pulled out a small bottle.

He turned and wiggled it, a wide grin on his face. "Your back's been hurting, right? I wanted to massage it for you. Then we can sleep."

You blink a little dumbly at him as he walked back over to you. On one hand, you did want to cuddle up and sleep. On the other hand, a massage sounds heavenly on your sore shoulders and back...

You sigh and giggle, propping your arms beneath the pillow cushioning your head as you close your eyes. "Go ahead, hon."

You didn't need to have your eyes open to know he pumped his fist in victory, a happy twinkle in his eyes.

Not long after, you feel his weight straddle the backs of your thighs and then he dribbles the oil onto your skin it was warm, and the first scent that hits you is the vanilla, immediately chased by lavender.

When his hands smoothed the oil around, you sigh once more in bliss, before making a soft noise when you feet his thumbs begin to press soft circles into the tense muscles of your shoulders.

"Oh, my poor girl." He said, his voice sad as he introduced pressure from his other fingers. "My beautiful girl is all tense and hurting? Makes my heart hurt!"

You make a soft whimper when his nimble fingers, calloused from years of web-slinging and crime-fighting begin to massage the body oil into your skin as he works on each knot as slowly as possible, ensuring he eases it out completely before moving onto the next.

By the time he's moved onto your back, you're a squirming and whimpering mess. It was such a weird feeling; a mix of pleasure, pain, and almost a sensation of being tickled. It was a cocktail you found yourself getting drunk and sleepy off of. You weren't sure where one knot started and the other ended, because he was undoing them with such efficiency.

"Hey... you okay?" Pavitr asked you quietly, kissing your shoulder.

"Mhmm." You hummed against the pillow.

"You sound like you're falling asleep." He grinned.

"'m not." You deny, your tone completely betraying your lie. You really were on the verge of sleep, your mind foggy and dancing on the precipice of dreams.

"You're so cute. Go on ahead and sleep, babygirl." Pavitr hums, placing more kisses on your neck.

And before you knew it, you were out like a light.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

When you woke up, you were first made aware that Pavitr was pressed up against you, passed out and dressed in nothing but his boxers, with one of his knees brought firmly between your thighs.

You usually woke up this way, with Pavitr doing his best impression of a koala bear, snoring softly in his sleep. Normally, it was adorable.

But right now it was far from innocent and adorable.

You could feel the unmistakable outline of his cock throbbing against the swell of your ass. Whatever he was dreaming, it was certainly nice, judging by how he was rutting against you lazily, whimpering as his hot breath fanned against your neck in short, needy pants.

You felt a twinge of guilt; with your workload lately you and your darling husband hadn't had time to be intimate, really, so he must feel pretty pent up.

Almost as pent up as you are beginning to realize you are, actually. The sounds he was making, the way his bulge rubbed against you, and the way he'd mutter your name? It was like a fire was lit down low in your belly, the hot sticky mess between your legs pressing hard against his leg when he brought it higher.

If you didn't know any better, you knew he was awake and merely playing with you. But you knew Pavitr in every way possible. He was definitely asleep. He slept like a brick. It's why his alarms were loud enough to burst your eardrums, you teased him.

You bite your lip and roll your hips back against him, feeling his chest rise and fall with a stuttering breath as he whimpered into your hair.

Oh, poor Pavitr...

This was nice, but it wasn't enough for you.

It made you feel another snag of guilt as you pulled away to roll over and face him, but the moment your warmth left his, Pavitr rolled over onto his back, one hand rested on his belly as he breathed deeply, his face flushed with whatever erotic dream his subconscious kicked up for him to enjoy.

You smiled down at him as your eyes hungrily drank in his cute, messy hair, his needy expression and toned, fit body. He was a gorgeous man. Adorable yes, but also gorgeous. Every time he wore a tight shirt, you'd always catch women just staring oh so shamelessly at him.

You'd always feel a bit smug; special. Because you knew you were the only woman Pavitr would let touch him, the matching gold rings on your fingers solidified that knowledge, gave it physical shape.

You drag your fingers up one of his thighs in a feather-light caress slowly but surely making your way to the bulge straining so tight against his boxers.

You let out a satisfied hum, as you palm the thickness of it softly, stroking him through the cotton as you watched the swell of it twitch and strain against the stitching.

Biting your lip, you leaned over him, hooking your thumbs around the waistband of his boxers and slowly peeled them down, freeing the aching length of his dick to allow it to flop to the side a bit, the cool air making it twitch as it was finally given room to rise to full mast.

Your eyes flicked up to Pavitr's sleeping face as his expression relaxed, no doubt in relief that his poor cock wasn't being squished by his underwear any longer. He was still making those sounds, but still dreaming, you could tell, by the way his long black eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks.

You wrap your hand around his girth and give a few experimental pumps as you circle your clit with your fingers, idly toying with your own wetness as you try to decide the next course of action.

And that's when it hits you.

Grinning, you pull away, watching as the twitch of his cock laments the loss of your touch while you shimmy out of your ruined panties and carefully straddle his waist.

You stayed, your dripping heat hovering over his cock as you looked down at him, your hands braced on either side of his head as his face twisted while something in his dream shifted.

And oh, when you felt the velvety heat of his cock grind against your clit, it was wonderful. The prominent vein that ran the length of the underside of his cock added the perfect friction for you to rub against; your dripping slick adding perfect lubricant to allow you to glide on him effortlessly.

Your eyes roll back as your breathing gets heavy, feeling a tingle at the base of your spine slowly spread up, your toes curling slightly at just how hot this all is. You haven't done this in particular in a while, playing around with him while he slept. The first time you did it you thought he'd be upset, but he quickly assured you that it was the most amazing way to be woken up in the morning. A million times better than his favorite snack and coffee, first thing.

You make a soft noise as his hips rut upwards against you, adding extra stimulation whilst your breath gets caught in your throat.

Your eyes snap open when hands slide up your thighs to grip at your ass, pulling you down harder to grind on Pavitr's cock.

"Oh... 'm-morning to you, too." Pavitr panted up at you, a love-drunk smile on his face as his eyes blink drowsily up at you.

"Morning baby." You breathe, leaning down to kiss him.

"Don't stop." He groaned as your lips broke apart.

"I wasn't planning on it." You chuckle breathlessly and lean down to kiss his bobbing Adams apple.

"I... I put some condoms in the nightstand last night, if you wanna..."

You groan deeply in your chest. Yeah, yeah you definitely wanted him inside of you, right now.

"Right." You say, clearing your throat as you leaned away from him, stopping that delicious friction as you quickly rifle through the drawer, fishing out the needed foil packet.

You hastily tear it open and pull out the rubber item, and slowly, almost achingly so, roll it down his length until it was snug at the base of his cock.

"God--" He whimpered, hips stuttering up into your touch.

"I know, baby." You sigh, climbing on top of him again as his hands squeeze your thighs briefly, moving up to your hips while your delicate fingers line his cock up with your wanting hole.

"'M not gonna last long." You tell him, your voice trembling as you lower yourself down, sinking his cock all the way in one smooth stroke.

The sound that came from within his chest made your toes curl again. "I--I know." Pavitr groaned. "Me either."

You languidly rolled your hips, dragging his throbbing length through your tight, velvety walls, the ribs and bumps on the condom making your eyes roll back with a whimper.

Pavitr was definitely feeling more awake, now, because he was thrusting up into you with wanton desperation his feet bracing on the mattress as you drove yourself down to meet his hips, gyrating and rolling against him; the tip of his cock ramming against your sweet spot with every thrust, making you practically squeal.

"Right there?" He pants, his hand reaching up to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh gently in his palms, marveling at how the fat squishes beneath his fingers.

"Yes!" You whine, bracing your hands on his chest for support as you rode yourself closer to your orgasm.

God, you needed this. You both did. The two of you had been so stressed out and run taut that you felt you both were going to snap. Half the time, when you two finally met at home, you were too tired to do more than eat, shower, and sleep.

Yes, cuddles were nice, but sometimes a husband and his wife just absolutely needed to rail each other until their eyes crossed, y'know?

Yeah... you made a mental note to squeeze sex into your future schedules, after this. You were so drunk off this ecstasy that neither of you were sure you could go longer than a day or two without it ever again. The distance your schedules imposed on the two of you just made the euphoria that much stronger.

And god, when you came, it felt like all the stress of the past few weeks completely ebbed away with each contraction of your muscles around his hard length; your wet, needy walls milking him for everything his body promised he could give you.

"Gh--tight..." He groaned, tilting his head back and gritting his teeth, the hand that was groping at your chest joined the other at your hips, helping you rise and fall on him, helping you ride out your orgasm as he so desperately tried to pitch himself over that edge he was teetering on.

You were so thankful he thought ahead of time for condoms, whimpering as his hips slammed up into you, threatening to make you cum a second time in less than a minute.

Neither of you were ready for a baby just yet, and you hadn't found a birth control that didn't make you sick. It was Pavitr's idea you get off your birth control in the first place, because he hated how sick you'd get, how uncomfortable you were.

So... You both opted for condoms and emergency contraceptives in case something happened while you had sex.

And fuck. Were you worried you'd need to take some, right now, with how you felt the condom swell and strain as he pumped his thick load into the thin rubber.

You were worried it was going to burst, especially with how he was rabbiting his hips up into yours as he chased the waning flames of his coital haze as your tight hole milked him dry.

It didn't, and you were glad of the fact as you dropped down, laying across his chest as the two of you heaved for some fresh air, your lungs burning desperately with each drag.

"Good morning. Again." You mumble with a giggle against his sweaty skin.

"Oh, yeah. It definitely is, now." He grinned, his hand running up and down your back in a loving caress.

"I hope you know we're not leaving this room for the rest of the day, now, right?" Pavitr asked you.

Oh, your fluffy, doofy husband had some of the best ideas...

[catladyoftheyr]

Too Sweet Ch 5

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4~

Harvey x gn reader

Summary: you get a letter from Harvey inviting you to join him at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. You sit together and share a bottle of wine as you watch the jellyfish.

Tw: alcohol mention, drinking, tipsy but not drunk

A/n: I headcanon that he had Elliot help him write the letter bc he was nervous. And now after this chapter you’re both in that weird “what are we” space 😈😩

Word count: 2.2 k (this got out of hand whoops)

It felt like your first summer in the Valley had come to pass far too quickly. The air had a light chill to it and the leaves were showing the first signs of changing colors. You pulled the covers around you when you slid out of bed, your makeshift cape dragging across the floor as you flipped through the channels on the tv. The man on the screen was warning that summer crops would start to die soon, and that now was a great time to start thinking about crops for the harvest season. You’d already bid a sad farewell to your tomatoes and blueberries, and made a note to get pumpkin seeds from Pierre. You changed the channel and a full figured woman informed the audience on the proper way to make an omelet, boasting about a secret technique that guaranteed success.

Your stomach rumbled as if making a formal request. You rummaged through the fridge for eggs and milk. You gave the ingredients a thorough whisk before adding them to the pan. You diligently followed along as the woman on screen instructed the correct way to flip and fold the eggs. You added cheese and slid your work onto a plate. You’d never been much of a cook and the food was slightly misshapen. A cautious first bite proved it more than edible, tasting much better than it looked. You dug in eagerly and flipped to the weather channel.

The man pointed to different temperatures behind him and droned on about a cold front coming in this week. Your finger hovered over the power button when he declared that the evening temperature would be pleasantly warm, perfect for the moonlight jelly festival in Pelican Town. Your curiosity peaked, imagining the possibilities of what it could entail. You’d heard folks in town talking about a jellyfish migration, but didn’t know any of the details.

You opened your door and noticed the flag was raised on the mailbox. You opened the flap and thumbed through the stack of envelopes. Even in the countryside junk mail followed you, glossy ads from JojaMart boasting slashed prices and random goods. Even Pierre shelled out for printed coupons in an attempt to compete. A letter from Mayor Lewis invited you to join the townsfolk at the beach tonight for the festival. The bundle of mail hovered over the recycle bin when you were caught off guard by your cat weaving between your legs. You sighed as the papers fell from your hand and scattered on the floor. You knelt down to gather them when an unopened envelope caught your eye. Picking it up you realized it was from Harvey. You carefully tore it open and began to read.

“ I hope this letter finds you well. I’m writing to invite you to join me this evening at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. Everyone is gathering at the beach tonight to watch the migration of jellyfish. It’s a special occasion that marks the change of seasons in the Valley. I’d be delighted if you’d like to sit with me to share in this memorable experience. Cross the wooden bridge and meet me by the tide pools at 10 pm if you accept my invitation.

Best Regards, Harvey.”

Your face flushed and you pressed the letter close to your chest before carefully refolding it. Was this… a date? You shook your head quickly as if to clear the thought from your head. You wouldn’t let yourself jump to conclusions or indulge in your delusions. It was a perfectly platonic invite to sit together at a festival. Nothing more and nothing less. You took the letter and pinned it to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a heart.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. You’d been busy prepping the farm for the change of seasons you’d hardly noticed the sun had set. You hurried inside to take a shower before you made your way to the beach. You wrapped the towel around your body as you stepped out of the steam; your hair was dripping when you looked in the mirror so you wrapped a towel around your head, hoping the last trace of summer heat would speed things up.

“What do I wear, what do I wear??” You mumbled to yourself as you rummaged through your closet. Something in your gut said farm clothes were out of the question tonight. You pushed aside hangers roughly and held a myriad of clothes against your form in the mirror before tossing them to the floor. After much deliberation you settled on a cotton button up and one of your nice pairs of shorts. You slid on a pair of sandals and turned to head out the door. You paused before exiting, wondering if you should bring a gift or a blanket to sit on. You yanked a spare top sheet from your closet and rooted through the fridge for something to share. You found a small bottle of your favorite wine you’d brought with you from the city. It was admittedly cheap and sugary, but you’d never been one for dry wine. You’d been saving it for a special occasion, but tonight seemed well enough.

You made it to the beach just before ten. You gasped softly, taking in the sight of dozens of small candles floating in the water. The soft glow illuminated the shoreline and the wooden dock by Willie’s shop. Most attendees had gathered on the pier to be as close as possible to the water. You said polite hellos as you headed east. That side of the beach was usually inaccessible, but someone had laid down several wooden planks to form a makeshift bridge. You hesitated before crossing and hoped it was sturdier than it looked. Despite some creaks and wobbles, you made it across safely and turned to scan for Harvey.

The tide pools took up most of the area, leaving small patches of sand near the shore free. You saw Harvey standing, pacing really, in a spot away from the crowd. He seemed more anxious than usual as he patrolled in a figure eight with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Could this be because of you? Maybe this really was a date.

“Hi, Harvey” you called as you approached. The doctor stopped in his tracks with a start. You think you saw his cheeks flush pink but couldn’t tell for certain in the moonlight.

“Oh! You came!” He looked surprised, like he’d been worried you wouldn’t show up. “I mean not that I was expecting you to not come- I just thought maybe you didn’t see my letter, or maybe you weren’t interested, or maybe you didn’t want to feel obligated, or-“

“Hey. It's okay. I promise” you interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. “I got the letter this morning and I want you to know that I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I really like hanging out with you, Harvey.” You tried your best to sound cool and confident. Truthfully your stomach was doing backflips and you hoped you weren’t coming on too strongly.

Harvey seemed to deflate a smidge, visibly releasing some of the tension he usually held in his body with a soft sigh. “I’m glad you could make it. Is this spot okay? I don’t like the crowds very much” he confessed. “We should be able to get a good view of the jellyfish from here. They’re attracted to the lights.”

“This is perfect.” You pulled your bag off your shoulders and produced the wrinkled sheet. “I brought this for us to sit on.” Harvey immediately helped to spread the sheet over the sand and gestured for you to take a seat first. You sat criss cross applesauce on the sheet and Harvey took a place beside you, mimicking your form. If either of you moved much your knees would knock together.

You dug out the bottle of wine from your bag and held it out. “Oh, and I brought this too. I thought we could share it. I brought it with me when I moved. It’s my favorite kind. I was going to save it for a special occasion but I thought it’d be nice to have tonight”

“I think that’s a nice gesture.” Harvey took the bottle from you and rotated it in his hands, examining the label.

“It’s cheap, I know,” you explained sheepishly. “I like the sweet stuff. Oh and um it’s screw top so you don’t need a corkscrew or anything.” You were suddenly embarrassed by your taste in alcohol. The wine was popular among teenagers and college students for its low price and easy access. Nor exactly romantic beach date material.

Harvey didn’t seem to mind and peeled the label and unscrewed the top. He looked at you quizzically and you suddenly remembered you’d neglected to bring cups. “Oh my god I completely forgot to bring cups! Um we don’t have to drink it tonight it’s totally fine you can just screw the lid on or-“

“I know I’m a doctor but I’m okay drinking from the bottle if you are” he teased, this time interrupting you. You blushed bright red and felt hot, but took a breath and regained your cool.

“I’m okay with that,” you giggled. He passed the bottle back to you and held up an invisible cup as if to cheers. You met his hand with your free one and clinked your imaginary glasses.

“You first.”

You took a small swig and felt the warmth of the alcohol spread immediately. You passed the bottle to Harvey and he flushed as soon as the wine entered his system.

“So does this festival happen every year?”

“It does. It’s a sort of celebration of the end of summer and a way to welcome fall to the valley. When the jellyfish migrate, then you know that the seasons have officially started their transition.”

“It reminds me of bird migration and flying south for the winter. It makes me want to migrate too. I hate the cold to be honest. I’m not a winter person.”

“It can be sad to see summer end, but the town’s fall festivities are some of my favorites. I love attending the Stardew Valley fair and seeing people from all over the Valley come together. It’s a great opportunity to see the fruits of everyone's labor. Are you going to grow any pumpkins on your farm?”

You nodded. “I want to make a pumpkin pie from scratch this year. And I’m looking forward to Spirits Eve. I heard Abigail talking about a haunted maze the other day. She said it was pretty scary even for her last year.”

Harvey shuddered. “That maze gives me the creeps. I’m not a fan of being scared on purpose.”

You were about to respond when you heard Mayor Lewis raise his voice to make an announcement. “I’m lighting the candle boat. The jellies should start to appear any moment now.” As if on cue you spotted a small blue figure swimming in the ocean.

“Look! A jelly!” You pointed eagerly to the fish you’d seen and watched in awe as two more appeared.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harvey asked. More and more of the jellyfish began to swim south to warmer waters, brilliant shades of blue swirling underneath the surface. You were both rendered speechless as you watched them make their way through the sea. The spot Harvey had picked gave a prime view, and it seemed that anyone else on this side of the beach had traversed toward the pier when Lewis had lit the candle boat. The two of you were alone by the tide pools, taking in the sight together.

You watched together as the jellyfish slowly disappeared, exchanging words about the beauty of nature as you finished the bottle of wine. You were warm and bubbly from the alcohol in your blood and felt emboldened. You moved your hand so that it brushed against Harvey’s and interlaced your fingers with his. You leaned in to whisper. “Thank you for inviting me.”

You sat with your fingers locked for several minutes as the very last jellyfish receded behind the horizon. When you finally let go, Harvey folded the sheet for you to place in your bag. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you home”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, Harvey. The farm is past the clinic anyways.”

“Nonsense. It's just past the bus stop, and I insist.”

“Well if you insist” you giggled, still tipsy.

You and Harvey walked quietly back to the farm. You tried to let him go once you reached the property line, but he insisted on walking you to your door as it was “the gentlemanly thing to do”. The two of you stood on the porch of the old farmhouse, illuminated by the moon and the porch light.

“Goodnight, Harvey. Thank you for walking me home. And thank you for inviting me to join you tonight. I had a wonderful time.” You acted on impulse as you pulled the doctor in for a hug. His warmth enveloped you and he pulled you tighter, his hands gripping your back. He smelled like wine and salt water. You inhaled deeply before letting go.

“Goodnight” Harvey seemed as if he was about to turn to head home, but paused and placed a light kiss on your forehead. He looked at you with warm eyes before he turned down the path back into town.

[aloysiavirgata]

Prompt: Scully caught Mulder buying condoms. Thank you😊

Dana examines the coupons in her little vinyl pouch, squints at the price of the Paul Mitchell conditioner. It’s a splurge and she has med school debts, but what the hell?

She catches her reflection as she passes a display of hand mirrors. The temporary brown rinse is rapidly fading from her hair and she feels an itch to do something new. Blonde? Something short and sporty? Bangs?

She must call her sister first. Melissa always knows the right thing here.

Dana puts a jar of Noxzema in her basket, a tube of Evyan White Shoulders lotion. There’s a Cosmo in there too, an occasional cheap thrill, which promises to analyze her seasonal color palette. She rounds the corner to peruse the lipsticks and walks face first into someone’s tie.

“Scully?” Mulder says, as though HE isn’t in HER Rite-Aid on a Friday night.

She notes him switch the basket to his other hand. Sees a box of Trojans peeking out from a heap of Slim Jims and bags of his stupid sunflower seeds.

Dana does not smirk, though she’s heard salacious things about him from Holly and a few other women. “Hey,” she says.

They stand there awkwardly, Friday-night colleagues with dirty little secrets.

Mulder coughs. “Gotta go home and get my curlers set,” he says at last, patting his hair. “Otherwise I won’t be able to do a thing with it.”

She smiles up at him, grateful for the effort. Neither of them wants to be the first to unpack their private lives in front of the other on the speckled Formica counter.

Dana remembers she has a coupon for two pints of Ben and Jerry’s, another splurge, but ice cream and her trashy magazine sound like heaven tonight.

“Forgot something,” she says, relieved for a real excuse. “See you Monday, I guess.”

“See you Monday,” he echoes.

She heads for the frozen section and watches him in one of the security mirrors. He’s good looking, Fox Mulder, in an assholish professorial way. He has nicer clothes than her and maybe he does put curlers in his damn hair. He has lashes like a fawn.

In the reflection he piles his items on the counter, chats with the clerk as his snacks crinkle. Dana blushes when she realizes she’s squinting to make out the size of the condoms. She’s seen him in the pool before.

Mulder pays and exits, leaving her staring at Wavy Gravy and Cherry Garcia.

Holly made it sound like he had Bond Girls lining up at his door all weekend, like he fucked the way he swam and ran, like a matter of simple physical exertion. If there’s a serious girlfriend no one has made her aware.

But Dana thinks back to his hotel room a couple of weeks ago, knows he could have gotten her terrified ass in his bed if he wanted to. Jack Willis hadn’t had to do much, and that makes her blush again. But Mulder was a gentleman and told her about his baby sister instead. Or maybe she isn’t his type, she thinks.

She takes two pints of Cookie Dough from the freezer and adds them to her other items. She pulls her cell phone from her coat pocket, enters speed dial number 14.

“Holly?” she says, when her friend answers. “Guess what?”

[prettyporcelainporcupine]

I cannot explain it more clearly.

Working class people who would normally vote in big blue regions have been forced to move to cheaper rural areas by skyrocketing housing costs and still commute into the urban areas for work.

People are making 2 hour commutes to and from work daily.

You cannot ignore rural areas as being irredeemably Red, you cannot continue to ignore polling locations that are too far from home and work for people, you cannot condescendingly lecture someone on not having the $60 to uber to a polling location by giving them a link to a rideshare 50% off coupon that is capped at $10 and leaves them stranded at the booth!

Its not enough to shout VOTE! and scare-monger Republicans while rolling out a bunch of the most evil politicians of the early 2000s just because young voters don't know how horrific seeing Dick fucking Cheney is because they weren't born yet.

So many of my coworkers did not vote because we work entire cities away from our polling location. I leave home at 4am and don't get home until 9pm. I live in a rural area where 50k people voted and 87% of them voted for Trump. No transport offers posted anywhere, no visits to the trailer parks or retirement homes, no van pools. Just online links to rideshare apps.

We talk about how impossible living has become with everything hidden behind apps and QR codes and pay walls, but voting this election suffers that same problem.

In 2020 there were people offering free rides in my community to the polls, there were flyers posted on light poles, bus stops, and sent in the mail.

I got 5 million political texts. I did not receive one offer for a ride to my local polling place. I only heard about the rideshare discount from the radio, and it capped at $10 while ride prices doubled. I was not spending $120 to vote blue in a deeply red county so I'm damn certain none of my neighbors did. My sister has an 8 month old, she could not stand in the heat for hours on end.

Voting is simply not accessible, and lower earning people do not have the privilege to live and work near their polling booth, and all democrats can think to do is yell at them that they didn't spend a weeks paycheck on an Uber.

[suckitsurveys]

What was the year/make/model of the last car you drove? 2008 Ford Escape Hybrid.

Have you ever been in weather below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celcius)? It was like -10F with windchill the other day.

What was the last thing you used your phone for, besides calling/texting? I was browsing Reddit a little bit ago.

Do you have more male or female coworkers? I am the only girl here from M-Th. Friday we have our admin assistant in the office with us.

Did you enjoy high school? No.

What’s an unusual food combination you like? I don’t think there’s anything that “unusual” I enjoy.

What’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent completely alone? Good question, I can’t recall a huge stretch of time I was completely alone. Probably no more than a day or two.

Have you ever lived in a studio apartment? I have not.

Did your parents allow you to drink soda when you were a kid? Yeah, but I was supposed to ask first. They used to keep Dr. Pepper in the fridge but I wasn’t allowed to go in the fridge without permission, but they always had cases of it not in the fridge so I used to sneak the warm ones and drink those lol.

Do you always check the prices of things when you buy groceries? Yeah, for the most part. We have the Jewel-Osco app so we always look for deals and stuff on that and clip coupons before we go shopping.

Do you like gyoza? I can’t remember if I’ve tried it or not.

Have you ever been in a situation where you needed a lawyer? Nope.

Do you use Instagram? If so, what’s your current profile pic? I do; it’s me dressed as Billie Eilish from the When The Party’s Over music video from this part Halloween.

Did you ever go through an emo or goth phase? Sure.

What are your thoughts on kids being given iPads to keep them entertained? I don’t think it’s all that bad, as long as they aren’t on it ALL day long.

Do you get regular check-ups with your doctor? Oops.

What was the last thing you felt apprehensive about? Work-related shit.

How many nights per week do you cook dinner at home vs. going out to eat? Mark cooks almost every night, but we do have a take out day two or three times a month.

What’s a trend you’ve seen recently that you thought was really dumb? AI. Also the fucking Stanley Cup obsession. it’s not even practical at ALL.

Do you know anyone who has been evicted? Yeah.

When did you last wash your sheets and pillowcases? A couple of weeks ago.

Have you kissed more than 10 people in the past 10 years? I’ve only kissed one person in the past 12 years.

Have you ever been caught outdoors away from shelter during a thunderstorm? Yeah.

Did you leave the house before 10 AM yesterday? I do that every work day, M-F.

What’s your favorite macaron flavor? I actually don’t really like macarons that much.

How often do you have friends over to your house? Very rarely.

Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? Eh.

How many times have you stayed at a hotel in the past year, and where? Twice? The Wilderness water park resort in Wisconsin and then at a hotel near the airport here in Chicago for my bday. All the other times I traveled I stayed at someone’s house.

What kind of technological advancements do you expect there to be 100 years from now? I don’t care I’ll be dead.

Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Nah.

What about a flip off of a diving board? I’ve done flips into the pool when I was kid.

What was the last hot beverage you had? I’m currently drinking tea.

[wellthatwasaletdown]

Do we think he’s going to spend the money and add more to his shows so they don’t look like high school musical on a budget supplemented with coupons? Question to anon who saw him in SK and also to everyone else, do you think that him “trying” is enough to satisfy his fans? Did you spot any lip syncing?

// From an anon who saw his Korean show:

Regarding your question, I think his fans truly don't care about quality of the show at this point. Many of them are just obsessed with him being silly on the stage. And I don't believe he will put more money to his show in the future.

I'd also like to add some audiences' reactions from that day. From what I saw, the responses of SK audiences appeared to be similar to those from Coachella week 1. The crowds in the seating area were cheering, but they remained sitting for the most part. Some started to stand up during tpwk, but when the song finished, they went back to sitting again. Many were busy taking photos and recording so they could upload their instagram stories with a caption of "omg I just saw BTS and Blackpink at Harry's show!" or "I am watching Harry Styles singing wms right now". In SK, Harry is known as the watermelon dude.

I saw some fans were complaining that everything besides Harry himself was boring - stage design, lighting, visualization and so on. I even heard some GPs were saying his outfit looked so ugly and ridiculus, and they weren't that excited about listening to his music other than aiw and wms.

Since many of them don't know the rest of the songs except aiw and wms, and all they could do was clap and cheer, Harry had to carry most of the show by himself. I didn't spot any lip syncing for this show, unlike the one I saw in Europe.

I also noticed that no diversity was presented in terms of demographic in his show, while you could meet a huge pool of demographics when Queen, Lady Gaga, Ed Sheeran, and Cold play came to perform in bigger venues. The stats from Korean ticket vendor sites supports this idea, with more than 80% of tickets were booked by women in their 10s and 20s.

Overall, it seemed that people enjoyed his show, but the buzz is already off. It's been two days after his show, but Korean GPs were focusing more on appearances of BTS and Blackpink. Reviews are like, you should have come to Harry's show cuz you could see BTS and Blackpink". Only a few Korean harries were talking about his show. I hope this helps you to understand how he is treated in a place where Harry isn't big. Sorry if my English doesn't sound great.

Thank you--and your English is very good!

[fairykukla]

I was supposed to be on vacation.

My trip plans fell through, but I wanted to take the week off anyway.

A week of not having to be anywhere at any particular time.

Instead, I did some cat sitting and now I'm doing hat home care for a friend. I don't mind doing those things but it really jacked up my chill vibe.

But I put my resources together and arranged a pool adventure. Swimply lets me rent a private pool! I had a coupon!

Our booking was yesterday afternoon. Right in the middle of the wildfire smoke hitting this city like an orange cloud. So I rescheduled for next week, but it will be an after-work swim. Oh well.

And of course, I've been telling everyone that I am going on vacation, so everybody wants to book stuff withe next week, too.

I'm gonna need a break from my break.

[rengokugutspill]

merchandise view & life as a seller

After a few days the kuji figure dropped in price but some people are definitely still trying to be stubborn about it. I see few & far between for fifty or lower while it seems a lot of people are still in the over a hundred to like seventy range. I ended up finding a listing for fifty & used a coupon to take it down lower. I was also able to get the open mouth happy version of the scared noise Rengoku doll, which he is shipped & on his way now though most likely won't arrive until probably the first week of January.

I saw what is apparently the first wave of the hashira exhibition items start to get posted. First only by the acrylic stand, which I read is about seven inches in height but I can't figure out if that's the plate it comes on or out of the plate ? It's initial price is roughly fifty which I took, again with a coupon, because it's blind bag & thinking pull price is rounded to eight usd & divide by a pool of nine variants with repeats, fifty is probably pretty reasonable. I do imagine it will drop by at least twenty over time. I think sometimes I can be allowed to be a little bastard.

I was so excited, I was looking at the other goods introduced. I'm kind of confused because I hadn't seen a post by the studio themself introducing this new wave or making any feature for it but I was able to find the exhibition website to peruse. I'm pretty amped up ! I did see an acknowledgment for the second wave to launch in January. I'm really curious if an additional art will be utilized ? I like this one well enough but admit I do think it could be a bit better. But also I am always begging for something more lol

I know there is an eatery doing a Demon Slayer collaboration & Rengoku's items are set to launch in January, so I am looking forward to that. Also, pretty soon is the kyogen items, which I plan to try to get probably half of them. Though I'm worried if that's limited run whether or not the items will be harder to obtain ?

For now, of the current set I am meaning to get the fabric poster, which is honestly gorgeous, they absolutely killed it on that one, I LOVE it so much !! I'm dying for it actually ! There's also a shirt & bromide/ card set. I'm not entirely certain what the paper product qualifies as ? Also, a mirror I would like. We see another animation set of acrylic stands that I do kinda want, but I think it's twenty dollars more than the last one because there's more included in this one. My whole thing is much like I complained with everything else, I really can't even see what the artwork actually is because the preview image is so small...

I'm imagining these should post to global because the opening items were posted ? But then again, of course we never saw any of the can badges. I suppose I could give it like two weeks & see what happens ? Because I will buy these from the studio directly if I can.

But I'm still feeling very distraught because I still have not received the birthday or spring items from earlier this year. Depending on how long preorder goes for, I suppose there's nothing to think until the end of January, when I'd actually reach out & be like wtf is going on with these ? Cos the website doesn't say they were shipped or anything, but realistically I think they should have arrived before the end of the year... But Drawing Pals were talking just recently about having a preorder sell out, so I do think that's possible. I feel like I see the merchandise for the birthday set releasing in waves & I believe I read somewhere that there's longer manufacture times depending on the number of orders. Which with Rengoku it's one part extremely popular character, that people are going to be buying him just because they want him but also people buying him specifically for reselling purposes. When contending with that, I really would not be shocked in the slightest if his manufacture got pushed out extremely far to make an inordinate demand. Give Kyojuro an award for being most coveted boy !

They'd also released an over the shoulder bag for the initial launch of the exhibition that I've felt very conflicted about. I just don't really like the art. I feel like a different art could be perfect & would make for an item that not only would I desperately want, but something I would use all the time. But feeling like I don't love the art makes me second guess myself for the bag. I'm still very on the fence about it.

& despite saying I don't love the artwork, when we got the full body artwork, which I was expecting, I really love the way that looks. They made his belt buckle so big lol looking at other images around my room, his belt buckle is typically roughly the size of his eye, now it's far bigger than his eye. I wonder if anyone else have noticed ? Something about it being basically his original artwork but just front facing is really doing it for me. Such nice arms ! Nice breast & nice torso. I love him !!!!!!

I also preordered the new Figma which was about sixty dollars, so it was definitely better to get it via the preorder than resale which is usually a hundred dollars minimum. I ordered directly through Japan as I have been despite there allegedly being a preorder for it in USA, I was unable to find the actual international preorder anywhere. But I also ordered like the day it launched because I didn't see a preorder close date so it made me nervous lol

I'm also waiting on my Spiritale. I was hoping they were going to release before Christmas so it could be a Christmas miracle. I'm still concerned over what that shipping cost is going to be & agonizing over the delivery.

& I don't think I mentioned this before yet but remember how I was previously lamenting the lot of twelve Rengoku dolls featuring the two of my most coveted ? It relisted missing the forty cm doll, which does suck, especially because it stayed at the same price, but I was able to get it & it did arrive early so I will be able to have those dolls, among others, for Christmas ! It feels like the greatest Christmas ever already !!

Though my one complaint is my bird Rengoku arrived & when I went to dress him, I just feel like I don't have nearly enough clothes to make reasonable outfits for everyone at once. The lot also came with two ten cm dolls & one fifteen cm doll. Originally I was going to resell the fifteen cm one, but when I held him in my hands, he was too baby & cute, I couldn't bring myself to do such a thing. Now I have to find clothes for these babies. & idk, I saw extremely cute coveralls on Aliexpress but when I went to buy them, all of a sudden the listing was just gone ? So currently I don't even have an idea about what to get them & I already know when I get my new boys, I am not really going to have enough viable ensembles to dress everyone... I will also likely have to completely rearrange my room again.

In other exciting news, dear friend had brought me a large amount of clothes to go through. I'd said before I struggle with the fact I'm aging, I can't slay a large load the way I used to when I was a teenager or early twenties. I was given nine bags & my mom had dropped off only a couple garments, though I think I kept most of what my mom had brought. Except there was a onesie pair of pajamas without feet that have a fun little butt flap that I thought were cute but when I put them on, they were too short for me to wear. & only just barely too, but enough to keep randomly clotheslining me in the crotch. Since I wore them, I'm putting them in the wash, but then they will be on deck to be listed because it's not viable for me to keep them.

Day of receive I emptied all bags. They said I would need to wash everything, so everything was separated by gentle & regular cycles. There were mens clothes also, so those were set aside for last. I think the total loads was six ? So I did three loads first. I think maybe after the first or second load I wanted to take a nap but I couldn't fall asleep so I went back for more. As they finish, I am putting the clothes on the couch to sort by type & then trying everything on basically in batches. Depending on the load type, sometimes a dry cycle was finishing before I got through the clothes that had been sorted, resulting in adding to the sorted piles. From there, sorted again by donate, keep & sell. Keep is sorted further into garment type.

At some point I did go to bed only to get up at four thirty in the morning to go right back to it & I didn't finish until after ten in the morning. I had about a load's worth that were all line dry I'd had to wait on from the day before, which made it all the more fantastic I had the foresight to do delicates first. My actual reason for that decision was just because I liked the look of the delicates & wanted to be able to try them on sooner lol

I ended up with roughly six drawer sized stacks of clothes I was keeping, two large sized reusable shopping bags worth of clothes to sell & one regular size reusable shopping bag of clothes to donate. There were also a few garments I was iffy about. Where I couldn't tell whether or not I liked them, so I will hold onto them for now. This has happened to me with a couple other garments recently that my mom gave me. There were two pairs of pants where the one I didn't like the material but decided to try to deal with, yet both those pants, when I went to wear them, I found they were the type that give you a whole extra ghost vagina, which I can't tell if maybe a previous owner was wearing the pants up way too high or if maybe it's the type of material or the way they were sewn that just does something weird to the crotch ? But I can't stand when pants do that. The one especially sucked because they were these really awesome sixties / seventies inspired mod bellbottom style pants & it's like, I can't even entertain something that's going to do me like that. It's humiliating & disturbing.

There were a number of Star Wars things. I don't know if Star Wars is money, but I know it gets a lot of merchandising, so I was feeling hopeful. I'm also taking chances on a number of relatively plain black long sleeve shirts & sweaters. I am thinking if I sell for even four dollars then I'm still making a profit.

Though apparently Mercari wants to fuck around & say they're revoking the removal of seller fees, which I think is fucking bullshit. They actually said nearly identical sentiments as Vinted on the buyer chooses courier & Poshmark on the reduced shipping costs, saying that so many people hated it & it hurt sellers in the long run... I feel like how ? How does removing selling costs hurt sellers at all ? So now they're nearly removing the full cost on buyers' usage to raise the seller fee. I'm more pissed off & irate about this. Which the change is going into effect the first full week of January. I reduced all my item costs on Mercari until then, but then I'll have to turn around as January starts & raise all the prices again... & what I especially don't get is I've bought at least two items since the seller fees were removed & I never saw a single issue when it came to buying, I did not feel like I was remotely being gouged on item costs.

So realistically now I'm back on Depop as my main since they'll be the only ones allowing me the most profit per any sale. & this means reducing prices further on Depop to make the items appear sexier there.

Speaking of, I forget if I mentioned this before, so it will be a damn shame if I already did & I'm just repeating myself. But of all resale platforms the hands down worst is ebay & one of the worst things about ebay is like nowhere else do I have even a fraction of the number of people trying to claim item not as described or looking for a refund. Literally no other platform is as bad as ebay. But when they can't actually prove item not as described then it's actually funny to argue with them because I had one person message me saying they wanted a refund because the item smelled like cigarette smoke & I said I don't smoke & they shut right the fuck up because you can't prove a smell but you also can't prove the cigarette smoke is from me either. Which to be clear, it was a dress & I never personally smoked in the dress. & another thing I will argue about cigarette smoke in particular is with my sinusitis & the fact that I do smoke, I don't tend to notice cigarette smoke on garments. But realistically, you can't exactly expect someone to know all smells on garments because like, if someone lives in a shithole for example, they aren't going to notice if the garment smells bad because they're used to always being around that smell. But just as I said with sinusitis, I have a hard time smelling things. I notice if something was chainsmoked in but imo just washing a garment gets the smell out. Like, people say cat piss is a smell that can't be washed out but I've sold items that had previously been pissed on & no one has ever said anything about it. Either way, I have never shipped a straight up dirty item, I wash everything before it even gets posted. It's just a weird accusation imo

I had two others recently where the one person bought a flannel shirt from me & then asked for a refund saying the shirt was plaid & not flannel but also pointed out a stain on the garment & my whole thing is I definitely would have done half a refund for the stain because that was completely my mistake & I was mortified that that even happened but when they said the garment was plaid I was so mad because I really thought they were trying to scam me & like say to ebay it's a linen type dress shirt as opposed to the more dense & soft fabric of a flannel shirt. I'm sitting here like yeah, the pattern is plaid but it's a flannel shirt. I went to look it up & it did turn out I was wrong but it was such a weird nitpick & I absolutely do believe their intention was to scam me but I turned it around entirely explaining there is an extremely frequent misconception of people referring to linen & stiff cotton dress shirts as flannel just based on a plaid pattern & that I understand flannel to be a softer & heavier material. Explaining further that I have my own preference for the softer materials so I am critical of the error. I pointed out that first of all, I'm just some guy selling clothes I don't want anymore, saying you really can't expect me to know all these niche textile details, especially when a lot of stores in the US are just going to sell the softer material & just call it a flannel. I apologized profusely for the stain but said they don't deserve a refund because I don't appreciate how they came at me to which they said they loved my response & appreciated my apology, conceding that yeah, not everyone is going to know all the intricacies of textiles & weaves.

My most recent being selling a very old & very worn shirt with holes in it. I did make a major mistake on this one as it was one of my extremely early listings. I had used that one nitpick statement of saying a “couple” holes rather than a “few.” & that was my ONLY mistake. Basically, the person claimed they bought the shirt for their daughter & claimed it couldn't be worn & that they wanted a refund. & I already gave this person a dollar off on the shirt in the first place so I felt like it was ridiculous to ask for a full refund after I already gave them a deal. I had looked at the holes in the shirt before shipping & kinda had the sentiment that if it is a big deal then I can do the refund, my issue ultimately being that nitpick, because the holes were mentioned in the listing. Not only that but the holes were only about a millimeter give or take, like, so tiny. My biggest concern was the age & quality of the shirt, I was more afraid the buyer would accidentally rip the shirt because of it's condition. To which I would absolutely have to refund. They would not shut up about the glaring difference of two more millimeter large holes in the shirt that I hadn't mentioned, insisting the shirt cannot be worn. & I'm sitting here like first of all it's two holes you can't even see, second of all, the shirt is sheer so it can't even be worn without a garment under it anyway. Finally pointing out, the listing was very clear about the item's quality, being very old & having holes, you agreed to that quality when you made the purchase, I haven't been dishonest about anything, you got exactly what was promised to you. In their meltdown they said that they didn't want to send the shirt back because there was nothing wrong with it & they still wanted to wear it... But I thought it was for your daughter & it couldn't be worn ?

At least what I love about these is you can just keep arguing because nothing matters, either they shut the fuck up & fuck off or they send the item back & when it comes down to do you hate the item so bad that you're willing to send it back ? Most of them all of a sudden love the item too much to part with it. Though like I said, I admit I feel extremely bad about the stain on the flannel, that was a complete & total accident & had they not tried to go above & beyond to really “get” me, I would have just given them half a refund. Even weirder, both of these people asked for a dollar off both garments before buying them. I wonder if it's a test to see if the seller looks like a “reasonable” person ?

I'm feeling tired & overwhelmed lately. It's been exhausting, especially after orchestrating all those clothes. But now I'm starting to feel giddy & impassioned to try to get as much listed as I can as quickly as possible. I feel as though I haven't had time to pursue my hobbies, every time I am not busy or feeling sick, I just want to lay down & never get back up. But I can't complain if the one thing I am doing is opening up the possibility to make more money. So I want to be on this as much as I can be.

Though now we're about to be in a brief cold snap. Just being in my room & I can't feel my fingers. So I feel like there are also things I want to do that I get halted from the severity of the cold. Though soon enough it will be back into the forties.

[truthdarespinbottles]

So jealous you got the cardigan omg!! What do you mean by grwoing up solidly "middle class" like what does that consist of? And what do you mean your mom was lower middle class?

My mom grew up comfortable, but with few to no luxuries - my mom grew up in the 70s and was the youngest of six kids; if she wanted nice, new clothing that wasn't a hand-me-down or something a friend lent her, she had to earn the money and/or make it herself because there wasn't a lot of money to spare. She has some pictures where she creatively styled hand-me-downs from her older brothers. My grandparents all grew up during the Great Depression, and were anxious about money. My mom always knew where her next meal was coming from, but never traveled beyond her California suburb unless it was a school trip to San Francisco a couple hours away (which she always earned scholarships for) or to her grandparents' house in Nevada.

By solidly middle class, I mean I grew up more comfortably in the 2000s. I grew up in Iowa and we went camping and visited theme parks in Wisconsin Dells every summer. I'm the fourth kid out of five but while I had my share of hand-me-downs, I also got my own new clothes. My sisters and I were able to do sports every year and had piano lessons. If something needed repairs, my parents had savings to help cover the costs and could make payments on loans. My dad worked full time and my mom worked part-time once my little brother started kindergarten. The recession in '08 really hurt us financially, I remember that, but my paternal grandparents were able to help us out.

In the 2010s my dad got a big shot job in his field, we moved across the country to Las Vegas, and suddenly we could afford nicer things. We had a pool!! I went to Disneyland for the first time, and when I was a senior in high school my parents got me a really good second-hand car that I drove until it got totaled by a texting teenager a few years ago. My dad has gotten a few promotions since and has actually become a semi-public figure. He was featured in a magazine for his field a couple months ago and was a driving force behind getting covid vaccines to the homeless in Las Vegas. My mom has become a bit bougie - she gets her dogs those monthly subscription boxes with special treats and toys, she got me and my husband our eras tour tickets for Christmas back in 2022, and she goes to Disneyland with her sister at least once a year since that's something they could only dream of doing as kids.

My family is very privileged, but my mom has experienced a wide range of financial situations. She clipped coupons with her mom every week as a teenager, but today she doesn't have to think about how much she spends on groceries unless she's getting, like, super high quality steak or something abnormally expensive.

[ejesgistnews]

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[mountphoenixrp]

The Sunshine Festival is coming up fast! In preparation, you can find the program for the market and concert stage below!

Market Booths:

The Flower Mill Goods/Services: An assortment of baked goods (sunshine shaped eggtart, songpyeon, sunshine macaron), caramel cold brew, and iced coffee.

Honeypot Brewery & Tapas Goods/Services: Aqua fresca (strawberry, cucumber, lime), burritos, and ceviche. Specials: Double Trouble coupons: for two people to enjoy a full Mexican-style meal for the price of one; city trivia game prize winner will receive ultra special prize.

Ice Ice Baby Goods/Services: Gourmet ice cream! Specials: Buy one, get one free single scoop cones; 20% off ice cream sundaes.

Spilled Tea Goods/Services: Strawberry, Lychee, and Matcha boba tea and herbal tea bags for sell. Specials: Buy three tea bags, get one free.

Sweet Spot (Eros’ pop up chocolate and sweets booth) Goods/Services: Fine flower and fruit infused chocolates, light sweet confections, dipped fruit, “love dust”, and love advice. Specials: Archery target practice game with prizes for romantic dates.

Dagger & Roses Goods/Services: Custom jewelry and weapons commissions. Specials: 30% for commission orders placed at the festival. Metalwork classes bundles (sign up for 3 classes, get 2 additional sessions free).

Jinxxed Goods/Services: Bone/tea/tarot readings, candle blessings, spell pouch making. Specials: 40% off crystals with proof of reading(s); free admission to one full moon ritual.

Halo Salon & Spa Goods/Services: Shoulder massages, hair trims, and manicures. Specials: 20% off your next visit coupons handed out to every customer.

Maibee Art Goods/Services: Handmade home decor, jewellery, personalized gifts and other art. Will be live painting. Specials: 15% off of everything; free hedgehog or bee charm with every purchase.

Stop&Paws Goods/Services: Mini grooming service (brush out & bandannas/bows for pets); “Meet the Adoptables” pen; and a pet cool down station with water dishes and a small pool. Specials: $10 mini grooming service; 20% off adoption fee for all animals at the festival; free pet treats.

Performers:

HEXED (Claire, Cassandra & Charlotte), rock band

HEXED will be headlining the festival, playing a set of their best songs (so far) every day. Fans might even get a sneak peak of a song or two off their up-coming album...

Stargazers Group (Heather, Dakota, Hunter & Invidia), singing

The group will be performing covers of popular songs like MILLION DOLLAR BABY (Tommy Richman), Too Sweet (Hozier), and Oui ou non (BRÖ).

Esther Yu, piano performance

Esther will perform Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter, Naked in Mahattan by Chappelle Roan, and I Can Do It With A Broken Heart by Taylor Swift.

Vulpe Blanford, piano performance

Vulpe will perform a piano rearrangement of the La La Land soundtrack.

Please use this information to plot with as many people as you would like! Employees and performers can have threads where they are working/performing and threads during their days off at the festival, if you’d like.

There is no time limit for threads, but the event will only officially last a week, so make sure to start your threads or whatever else you have in mind once it begins! And please be sure to post all event-related threads in the designated Discord channel.

Most importantly, of course, have fun!