#she's a hipster through and through

[rayar32]

Up next: Tsubasa Kazanari Cannot Catch a Break, the show

Also a bonus funny doodle because I imagine Luiza's bias is Tsubasa and she straight up doesn't remember what Maria is supposed to look like—

[irlwakko]

can you be robbed of something if it never actually existed. anyway we were robbed of villain zoey

[hairmetal666]

There's a boy, Eddie meets a boy, and it's mundane because they're boys and it's summer and they find each other like lonely boys in summer do. It shouldn't be the defining experience of Eddie's life, that summer, that boy. His memories are all sun drenched, tanned skin, minnow catching, swimming, camping under the stars, a fumbling, toasted-marshmallow-sticky first kiss. He grows up and still Eddie thinks there will never be anyone else like that boy.

---

There's this new teen soap schlock on the CW. It fills his social media algorithms with gossip and BTS footage and spoilers. He ignores every bit of it, so far from the target audience it's laughable.

Jeff, Gareth, and Freak get into it. At first, he takes this as a betrayal of the highest order, threatens to kill all their characters in their next dnd session, but they convince him to give it a shot.

It's airs Thursday nights and thank god Wayne is at work, he'd never live it down. He turns the TV on just in time for the cold open, and within ten seconds there's a beautiful man on screen. Chestnut hair, coiffed carefully back; down-turned, hazel puppy dog eyes; freckles and moles dotting his face and neck--Eddie would recognize them anywhere, spent hours mapping the constellations of them during their one magical summer.

He sinks to his knees in front of the TV--nose inches from the screen--watches the whole episode that way. For the entire hour, the only thing he sees is Steve Harrington.

Eddie doesn't move until after the credits have rolled. He can't believe that the boy he knew all those years ago is an actor on a popular show, that he'd just missed finding him, all this time.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he Googles, which is a mistake immediately, because the most popular pictures are from a GQ photoshoot where Steve is very wet and very shirtless, the amount of chest hair on display enough to kill a man. He forgets how to breathe for several seconds, before quickly scrolling away, which is also a mistake because it's how he learns that Steve 1) dated his castmate, Nancy Wheeler for several years before 2) she got caught cheating on him with another castmate, and 3) he's often seen out and about with his current on-screen girlfriend, Robin Buckley.

For his own sanity, he has to put his phone away. It isn't like he's going to see Steve ever again, obviously, so he needs to forget all this. Keep the memory of that summer safe.

---

It's late spring and Gareth invites them all to their favorite bar in Indianapolis. One of their friends from their Corroded Coffin days got a gig playing bass for some up and coming indie guy, tickets and drinks are comped. It's not their usual vibe, musically, but who is Eddie to say no to a free night out?

And, look, night of, the music isn't his vibe, but the place is packed and he's with his best friends, and the drinks are flowing, so even he finds himself swaying along to the whiney hipster shit coming from the stage.

Eventually, the lights go down for the headliner, and the crowd crushes forward in a way Eddie isn't used to in this bar. He lets himself be pushed forward, somehow ending up right in front of the stage.

When the lights go up, he stops breathing.

It's Steve.

Steve right there in front of him, guitar strapped across his midsection. He's wearing dorky little Ray-Ban sunglasses, but Eddie would know that hair, those moles, anywhere.

There's no way Steve will notice him, remember him, but it's enough to see him now, to hear his music. Eddie dances and smiles at the boy who got away. Maybe he'll mourn later for the distant hope he harbored deep within his heart. But, he thinks, this is enough.

Steve comes out for the encore, takes off the sunglasses, tosses them straight to Eddie, smiles big and genuine and familiar. His heart stops. It can't be real, it can't mean anything, but he's so elated that his soul might rise from his body.

The show ends, the buzz of it, of Steve, reverberating through Eddie as he makes his way back to the bar. It's crowded with people, but he slides through the bodies until he's at the front. Someone taps him on the back, and he thinks they're trying to get through, but when he turns it's Steve.

His smile is so beautiful, Eddie thinks that maybe he's dying.

"Eddie!" Steve says.

"Stevie!" He doesn't mean for the old nickname to come out, couldn't keep it in.

"You remember me!" Steve is beaming.

"I'd never forget you." He's smiling just as hard. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Steve's nose wrinkles. "I've got, like, fifty coming. We could go somewhere quiet to talk?"

He's never said yes to something so fast in his life.

They go back to the postage stamp sized green room, and he's surprised to see Robin Buckley there. His stomach shrivels for a second, but she stands and he sees the lesbian flag painted on the side of her Converse, the oversized vest she's wearing.

"You want me to skedaddle?" She asks. He loves her immediately.

"Do you mind?" Steve asks. Robin shakes her head.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie," she calls as she sails out the door.

"You told her about me?" He knows his smile is downright goofy.

Steve blushes. "Um, yeah. Maybe a little? Just that I met a boy from near here one summer. And, uh, maybe something about him being my first kiss?"

"Oh." Eddie thinks he might burst into flame. "I wasn't sure if--I didn't know if you'd remember."

"I'd never forget," Steve says.

"You got famous." Eddie says, which is dumb, but he doesn't know how to deal with Steve cherishing those childhood memories the same way he does.

"I guess I did." Steve looks down, hair tumbling around his face. "It's probably not what you were expecting."

"Did I expect to turn on the tv and see my first crush staring at me in HD? Not quite. But It was amazing. You're amazing."

"I'm on a CW show," Steve laughs.

"So?"

"I think maybe you're a little biased about your first crush."

"Are you saying that's a bad thing?" They're flirting, he thinks. Can't believe it's happening, that Steve might--

"Well, maybe, but only if you tell me you don't have a crush on me anymore."

"Are you kidding? I saw that GQ photoshoot."

Steve's laugh is loud and bright, like fireworks in Eddie's chest. They're closer now, sharing warmth, breath.

"I have some candids if you want to see."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Stevie."

They're quiet for a second, Eddie a little breathless from how hard they're flirting, how right it feels.

"You were great out there," he says.

"Thanks." Steve smiles, bashful. "I know it's not your kind of music."

Eddie shrugs. "I like what you do."

"And to think, you've barely gotten a taste yet." Steve pauses for a beat, horror dawning on his face. "Oh, shit. That was--I'm sorry--I--Robin says I always come on too strong, and I promised I would play it cool, but--"

"You never have to play it cool with me," Eddie says, sincere through his laughter.

"This is fast, though, right? I mean. The second I saw you in the crowd, it--it confirmed everything I thought when we first met. That's--is that crazy?"

Eddie's smile is softer now. "Not at all." Gently, he cups Steve's cheek with his hand. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," Steve breathes. "God, Eddie, please."

Their mouths meet and it starts out sweet and slow, but it's not childhood crushes anymore. Eddie's tongue teases at the seam of Steve's lips, which part for him like he's the only one in the world with the magic words.

It's sweeter than any marshmallow.

[lampette]

The cast of THE MOON'S EYE, my GF Roleswap au comic! As follows (and more under the break) MABEL PINES (Pine Tree) - A fiery girl with an adventurous spirit and reckless determination. She loves the great outdoors and all of the mysteries that it holds. DIPPER PINES (Shooting Star) - An intelligent and mild-mannered boy, his self-doubt makes him unaware of his true potential. Doesn't want to get involved with Gravity Rises' weird going-ons at first. Outer space nerd. STANFORD PINES (Sixer) - A man who's seen and been through a lot in life. You get the sense he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Runs the Gravity Rises Natural History Center. SALEM - A baby shapeshifter that Mabel befriends. They can take on many forms, which can come on handy during their many adventures.

ROBBIE VALENTINO (Heart) - A laidback emo/hipster/stoner musician. Very open minded and willing to go along with whatever crazy adventures happen today. Handyman at Ford's museum. MELODY ACOSTA (Music Note) - A sweet and peppy young woman in touch with her inner child. Cashier at Ford's museum. GIDEON NORTHWEST (Ram) - The richest boy in Gravity Rises--and the most douchiest. He thinks he's better than you in every single way. Dipper's rival. PACIFICA PLEASANT (Crescent Moon) - Child psychic--reads tarot cards, tea leaves, palms, all that. Her sweet exterior hides something more unnerving. WENDY CORDUROY (Axe) - The local juvenile delinquent. Likes throwing axes for fun. Scary as hell. Mabel's rival. BILL CIPHER (HAHAHAHA) - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–���

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[svelish]

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

Fuck Her Into Confidence

Warnings; g!p!billie x fem!reader, slightly insecure reader, use of pet names, safeword (didn't use it), pussy eating, rough sex, use of "Daddy", controlling, other.

Little note !!: I actually like this better than my others.

"Hmm? Can I finally fuck that sweet little pussy?"

"What? Oh my God... Is that what we're doing?"

"If you want..." Billie looked at you, back to normal. "Whatever you want. You tell me."

You blinked.

"I mean..." She pecked your lips between each word. "We don't have to. I'm also fine with this."

"You mean, you'd be... fine if we didn't do it? Like. But, isn't that what you want?"

"Obviously. Why wouldn't I want to fuck the shit out of you? Have you seen yourself?" Billie grounded her hips against yours again just to watch you squirm. "But the question is: what do you want?"

Your brows knitted for a minute, brewing with thoughts. Then in an instant, your arms were around her neck and you were kissing her like it was the end of the world.

"Is that a yes?"

"Obviously."

"Obviously?" She smiled, squeezing the sides of your neck. "You want to try again?"

You whined. Tried to look away, but she didn't let that pass. Not only because it was fun to mess with you. Push your buttons until your fears fucked off and you become a dirty sex kitten. But because she needed it just as much. Your trust. The intimacy. The freedom to be in control for once.

And she knew just what you needed. Humiliation. Praise. Being cherished. Treated like her favorite toy. The object of her obsession. To tease and play with. Ruin in she wanted to.

"Do you want to get fucked?" She asked slowly, tracing a finger across your collarbone to the strap of your bra, and dropped it down your shoulder. Your breast is a breath away from being naked.

"Yes." You breathed heavily

"Yes, what?"

"Yes. Please." Shame gritted your teeth

She clicked her tongue in disappointment and pinched your nipple. No doubt, the lace made it hurt more, but the way you cried out was delicious. "I'm sure you can do better than that, sweetheart. Want to try again?"

"Fuck. Me. Please." Your eyes burned with angry tears.

"Much better."

Your legs wobbled when she set you down. She threw you over her shoulder to lighten the mood a little. You had a heavy day. Sh didn't want you to get into this with a negative mindset.

Thankfully it worked. You laughed, carried like a sack of potatoes until she dumped you on her bed.

A fake orange candle you had insisted to buy from an overpriced hipster store flickered on her nightstand. The warm glow bounced on the black sheets. The sight of you with wild hair and a little smile pumped her up like an Olympic champion. She'd finally made it.

"Oops. One sec." She fished out her phone from her pocket to text Finneas.

"Stay away tonight." "Sorry not sorry." "Don't tell mom."

"Okay, where were..." She trailed off. You were already crawled over, and sat on your heels, unbuckling her belt. You glanced coyly under your lashes as she grinned at you. "Someone's eager."

Rolling your eyes, you close her fingers around her shaft, sticking out your tongue.

"Look at you, So—" The words died, her brain melting as you sucked her with your hot, slobbery mouth. "Oh my God..." A gluttural moan she'd never made before tipped her head back. She couldn't even care.

You whimpered and choked yourself more, using your whole body to thrust back and forth.

"Yeah. That's my good girl..." She reached for and struck your ass with her palm. Your shocked cry vibrated on her shaft, making her groan. Oh, you were so soaked through your panties already.

You struggled to focus as she teased. Tried to wiggle your butt away from her. That only got you spanked. Sharp. Once on both cheeks. Then right on your pussy. You tried to pull away.

"Don't you fucking move." She curled her fingers around your panties and pulled them aside, tracing your slick lips with a sly realization. "Oh, fuck. You've made such a mess. What's this, sweetheart? You're that fucking needy? Huh? I haven't even touched you yet."

You whined around her cock and tried to move again. Except she fisted the back of your head. You had nowhere to run. All you got was more spanking and crying as she forced you to suck.

"What a pretty little whore."

You only got wetter. She pushed the tip of her finger inside your pussy, watching your eyes go wife. Hands flew to her sides, too overwhelmed to keep going.

"Well, since you can't focus." She tossed her back and yanked down your hips, making you slide on the edge until your pussy was in front of her. She kneeled. Threw your legs over her shoulders, and kissed down your thighs. Licked the outside of your panties. Then over. Up and down.

"Oh my God. Don't... don't stop..."

"Oh, I don't plan to. You have a safe word?" She should've paused, but you were just so cute when flustered. She bit your panties and moved them further away, swiping her tongue up on your slit.

"Ohhh my God! Um. Uh... It's..." You yelped as she sucked on your clit. Knees involuntarily lifting to your chest.

"You better answer."

Your drawl came out humored and ashamed. "Potatoes..."

"Jerk." She laughed. "Way to ruin my childhood."

She climbed on top of you, something tugging her to check in. "You promise you'll say that if you don't like something?"

You nodded in a hurry and kissed her. Moaning and pushing your body up. Alright, well. That answered her question. She gave you what you wanted for a minute, caressing all over.

"Take off your bra. Let me see those titties."

"What?" Your eyes widened.

"Tits out." She wiggled her finger and pushed inside your tight warmth, curling it against your wall. You arched off the bed with a strangled cry. "Off, baby. Hurry."

You managed to do as asked. She licked her lips at your tiny nipples standing for attention. Knowing the air would be cool, she wet her finger and traced around it. You tried to manage your breathing, gaze darting at the ceiling. Savoring every second, she circled my tongue on your nipple, massaging the other between her fingers. Making your body writhe.

You must've forgotten about ger other hand. Because when she actually started to finger her, and added her thumb on your clit, you dug your nails into her shoulders and moaned off the bed. Quickly, your orgasm started to build again. Closer and closer. Almost there.

Billie slapped her clit, then stretched the skin above it, watching your pussy quiver around nothing.

"Aww, poor little thing. Look at it trying so hard to come. Did I ruin it for you?"

"You're an asshole." You kicked your legs to get up, but it didn't take too long for her to collect your ankles in one hand and push your legs up straight. She lifted your butt off the bed like a rag doll.

And then slid my fingers back in, because she could. Because she knew it made her feel like an object. And she loved the pathetic whimper you left out, hating yourself for how much you liked it.

"Good girl." She took off the rest of her clothes and threw them on the floor. "Come. Sit on my face."

"What?"

"I want your pussy on my face. Sit." Billie lied down on her back.

"Um, I don't know..." You brought your knees to your chest. "That's a little too much."

"Is it? I didn't ask." She picked you up by the hips, thigh on each side of her face. You tensed head to-to-toe, trying to get off. "Come down, y/n. Now. Give me that pussy."

"Bil—"

Billie licked up your thin lips and softly kissed your clit. Licked and kissed. Made out with it. Groaning at how delicious and sensitive it was. Hers. This was all hers.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Oh my God." You slapped the wall, your moans small and panicked, then louder as you threw your head back and let go. "Ah. Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes."

Little vixen began to ride Billie's face, moving confidently. Billie struck your ass just how you liked it, and fisted a chunk of your hips, bouncing you on her. You cried out at her stubble hurting your pussy, but came just as hard. Scraping the headboard, cum dripping down Billie's chin.

She laid you on your back and kissed your neck, rubbing her waiting cock up and down your drenched slit. You hardly noticed the new position, still floating on cloud nine. Eyes closed, ready to drift off.

Billie slapped your clit with her cock, flinching you up, and pushed her head in without warning. The sharp intake of breath for you had her smirking like a sick sadist.

"Yeah. That's it." Billie folded your knees up, bending them by your sides. You whimpered. Embarrassed she was staring at your pussy the entire time. As if she cared.

She groaned like she'd been waiting her whole life for this. Your reaction was too quiet yourself with the back of your hand and look away from her.

Just for that, she thrust deeper before you were ready.

You jerked up, smacking her chest and abs. But like a damn hypocrite, the fear turned you on.

"Oh, God. It's so big..." You whimpered, pushing her back as she tried to lean closer.

"Too fucking bad." She pinned your hands by your sides, sucking on your nipple. Not stopping her cock from going in and out. You shrilled as she bit, thrashed under her, begging and cursing as your pussy clenched already. "That's a good girl. Yeah, come for daddy. Come for daddy, baby. Good girl."

You gasped at Billie, appalled. Speechless, making her chuckle.

"You okay?" It felt like a natural moment to check in. You nodded and she pecked your nose. "Good."

"You didn't come."

"I know. Turn to your side."

Billie shifted behind you and grabbed your throat, hugging you to her chest. Your mood shifted quickly. The scared little girl back as she nudged her cock in. Curves in her perfect view. Tits and ass within easy access.

When her hand caressed your belly, you slapped it away and sucked your stomach in.

"Excuse me?" She chokes the breath out of her throat. "Did you just stop me?" She rammed you fast and nonstop. Her fingers bruising your hips from fisting a chunk. Ass jiggling on her thighs.

She grabbed your stomach roughly and sneered in your ear. "This is my body. I can do whatever the fuck I want. So if I want to grab it." She squeezed. "I'll fucking grab it. Do you understand?"

She clasped your throat to silence your yes. One bite on your neck, and you broke out in goosebumps. You yelled. Threw your hands at her back, clawing at her skin. She held you as you came. Messaging your tits. Rubbing your clit. Until you turned into a lumpy putty on the sheets.

Billie sat up with raw adrenaline.

"Get on your fours."

"I can't..."

"You can't?" She tossed you up how she wanted. Hips high. Heart-shaped ass pink with hand marks. Push your chest on the mattress, smacking your ass as you resisted. "Get the fuck down."

You stayed still, head bowed, exposing your chest and shoulders. So fucking perfect and all hers.

She spit in her hand and lubed you just in case. Buried her cock inside her again, closing her eyes. Fuck. Nothing felt better than this. Bodies were molded to fit each other. The way her cock filled every corner of your walls. You were loving it too. Dazed. You started to blubber.

"Mmm, daddy..."

"Yeah, baby. Daddy's still using you. I'm not done yet."

You moaned, sounding greedier. And fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing. Watching you be so horny for her. Panties still on as you got fucked. Shoved aside, stretched high on wide hips.

"God, that's my little fucking whore." She began to pound. Not holding back anymore. You wailed, crumbling with each thrust. Slap the sheets, stretch with your nails. She rammed harder, sweat beading on her chest, and slapped your ass hard.

She flung forward and belly-plopped.

Your legs and pussy are spasmed in tremors. With a trembling hand, you tried to cover up while she stared in aw at your post-orgasmic mess. You really were starting to sound and look broken. She chuckled and picked up your hips again, starting off slower so you could catch your breath.

She didn't want it. Tried to throw your hands behind her to stop, but she held your wrists in each hand and stretched your arms back. Holding them in the air so you couldn't use them. You tried to bend your elbows, flexed your fingers all confused, like you were solving a puzzle.

"No, sweet girl, you can't move. I got you. You're not going anywhere."

You melted at her words and instead of resisting, arching your back for more. She stilled her movements in wander, watching you move on her cock with your own slow, sensual pace.

"That's it. Oh, what a good girl. Look at you, so good. Yeah, baby. Just like that."

You tried to go faster, but couldn't do it alone. So she grabbed your hips again and picked up the pace. Spanking you, throwing your face back on the mattress. Fisted your hair and rubbed your clit to hear you scream again. You did everything in your power to crawl away.

"Where do you think you're going? Huh?" She cooed. Her hands wrapped around your panties and tugged on them, bouncing you back. She smiled at your helplessness "No, you're all mine, baby. I'll tell you when you're done. So you just stay there and take it. Take it like a good slut."

A string of pleas muffled on the sheets, you shoving your face into them. Just giving her an even better view of your ass. Her cock glistened in and out of your tight cunt.

"Is my slut going to come for me again? Huh?" She smacked your ass hard enough to sting like hell. Your high-pitched cry making her chuckle. "Huh? Do you need to cry when you come for daddy?"

"Fuck you..." Your voice broke. So that was a yes.

"Oh, you're done." She threw her body on you and trapped you under her, driving deeper this way. You had no way to move and screamed as you realized it. She covered your mouth with her hand. "Shut the fuck up and take it. You're going to take it and you're going to come like a whore."

Your tears spilled on your hand. Thighs wet with your cum. Of course, the poor girl was so overstimulated. But you wanted it. You had a safe word and wasn't using it.

She kissed your tense shoulders, going slower, but just as deep. "Shh, baby, take—Oh, fuck. Fuck, that's fucking good." She groaned in the crook of your neck as you moved your ass back on her.

She peeled away, needing to focus, and you little motherfucker giggled at her as if you knew. She couldn't believe it when you looked at her over your shoulder as if to say 'yeah, I did that to you.'

That's when she noticed the little spot of wetness on the pillow, right where your mouth was.

"Are you drooling? Aw, sweetheart. Does it feel that good?" Her voice became menacing, nails biting into your hips. Wiping your smirk right off. "Yeah? Does it feel that good? You want to come for me, baby? You want to come for daddy?" That's a good little whore, such a good girl."

"Oh my God, fuck!"

"Say it." She smirked at your failed concentration. "Say you're a dirty whore for this cock."

"No." You shook your head in defeat. Oh, you wanted to.

"Fucking say it." She growled out, fisting your hair back. Spanked your sore ass some more. She forced it out of you. You sobbed it, voice breaking, but orgasmed harder than she'd ever before.

Your screams drove her over the edge. She flipped you over and covered you with her cum. Thick and white stroked on your tits and belly as both heaved to catch their breath.

"Oh fucking hell..." Billie mumbled with a chuckle. You giggled, eyelids heavy, they both tried to do a high-five but failed miserably.

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐯𝐢 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐯𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 545

Content/Warnings: sfw, gn reader (no pronouns used), a little bit of angst just bc poor Vi has never caught a break in her life

A/N: so while i finish up the dancer!vi x dancer! reader smut... i wrote this up super quick last night in bed while my girlfriend was genuinely sprawled on top of me pushing me off of it but awwww my shayla ANYWAY, here is a short headcanon about what I think it's like to share a bed with Vi! enjoy!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

୨ৎ Vi, who feels the safest when she's as small as she can get while she sleeps

୨ৎ Before you two began sleeping in the same bed, she'd try to go to sleep with her limbs outstretched- be it on her side, her back, or her stomach- but every morning, without fail, she'd wake up with her knees tucked into her chest and her arms wrapped around her own waist

୨ৎ After the two of you began sharing a bed, she'd start out curled into herself, cradled in your arms, and wake up starfished across the entire fucking bed

୨ৎ Vi, who I fully and wholeheartedly believe sucks at being the big spoon

୨ৎ As much as she'd like to feign that she's all big and tough- that she's supposed to be the one holding you- she sleeps the best tucked against your back, covers pulled up to her nose

୨ৎ (When she does try to big spoon, she burrows her head so far into your back that you end up turning around to hold her anyway)

୨ৎ Vi, who-despite pulling it right up to her nose before she falls asleep- always manages to kick the damn comforter off the bed in the middle of the night

୨ৎ She runs so hot at night that it doesn't matter; anything more than the top sheet and you'd sweat through your pajamas

୨ৎ Vi, who sleeps naked apart from her underwear (plain cotton hipsters; there's no way boxers are fitting underneath the tight ass jeans she wears like i’m sorry)

୨ৎ Vi, who hates waking up alone; in fact, she's terrified of it

୨ৎ You learned your lesson about leaving bed unannounced when one morning, you woke up before she did and decided to sneak off to the kitchen to make her a surprise breakfast

୨ৎ You're busy scrambling eggs when you hear her call your name from the hallway leading to your bedroom 

୨ৎ She rounds the corner to the kitchen, eyes wide and wild until they land on you, and she finally exhales

୨ৎ “Hey baby! I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast in bed; you like your eggs scrambled, right?”

୨ৎ “Yeah,” she'd breathe out. She still looked like she'd seen a ghost. 

୨ৎ You'd furrow your brow, worry creeping up on you. “You okay?” 

୨ৎ “Y-yeah, sorry. I’m good,” she'd reply, unconvincingly.

୨ৎ Your eyes wouldn't leave her as you moved the eggs off of the heat and made your way to where she stood with a hand on the wall to support herself

୨ৎ “Baby,” you'd coax, reaching out to tame a stray tendril of fuchsia; and she'd envelop you in her arms, holding on like you'd disappear if she let go

୨ৎ “Please don't leave without waking me first, okay?” She’d plead, her voice breaking.

୨ৎ And your heart would shatter as you realized just how terrified she was of losing someone else

୨ৎ From that point on, you'd never leave bed without a gentle shake to her shoulder and a quick kiss on her forehead as you alerted her that you were leaving, but that you'd be back

୨ৎ Vi, who still has a hard time comprehending that she has a soft bed to sleep in at night, a fluffy comforter to abandon when she gets too hot, full nights of sleep without nightmares, and most of all, you to share it with

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

[blooming-violets]

private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?

[location based smut prompts]

The To-Do List

[tasm peter x fem!reader]

(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)

His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven. 

She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up. 

Peter, of course, had other ideas. 

He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms. 

“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised. 

Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome. 

His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent. 

She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body. 

“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. 

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed. 

“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.” 

Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off. 

“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb. 

“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff. 

Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.

“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.” 

She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.” 

Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?” 

“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?” 

“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.” 

She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.” 

“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal. 

She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.” 

Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…” 

She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”

She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.

“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!” 

He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.

“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.” 

“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”

He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.” 

“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.” 

“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”

She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone. 

Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”

He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips. 

She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him. 

“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?” 

She whimpered.

“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply. 

All for her. 

It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her. 

Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass. 

“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”

She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.

“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap. 

“Peter, please,” she gasped. 

He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.

“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence. 

She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”

“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?” 

She whined and nodded. 

“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”

Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”

He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”

She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him. 

That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.” 

“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”

He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body. 

“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried. 

“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?” 

“No, baby, never. I could never-”

He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap. 

She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over. 

Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”

Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path. 

He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried. 

“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm. 

The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands. 

She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears. 

That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel. 

His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready. 

“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.” 

Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing. 

“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

The universe exploded into blinding light. 

She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman. 

Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine. 

Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn. 

He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat. 

“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”

All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing. 

“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”

She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries. 

He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.” 

He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down. 

“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?” 

She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased. 

His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow. 

Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him. 

With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down. 

He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily. 

Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more. 

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.” 

She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.  

His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling. 

Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…

For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Why they're smearing Lina Khan

My god, they sure hate Lina Khan. This once-in-a-generation, groundbreaking, brilliant legal scholar and fighter for the public interest, the slayer of Reaganomics, has attracted more vitriol, mockery, and dismissal than any of her predecessors in living memory.

She sure must be doing something right, huh?

A quick refresher. In 2017, Khan — then a law student — published Amazon’s Antitrust Paradox in the Yale Law Journal. It was a brilliant, blistering analysis showing how the Reagan-era theory of antitrust (which celebrates monopolies as “efficient”) had failed on its own terms, using Amazon as Exhibit A of the ways in which post-Reagan antitrust had left Americans vulnerable to corporate abuse:

https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox

The paper sent seismic shocks through both legal and economic circles, and goosed the neo-Brandeisian movement (sneeringly dismissed as “hipster antitrust”). This movement is a rebuke to Reaganomics, with its celebration of monopolies, trickle-down, offshoring, corporate dark money, revolving-door regulatory capture, and companies that are simultaneously too big to fail and too big to jail.

This movement has many proponents, of course — not just Khan — but Khan’s careful scholarship, combined with her encyclopedic knowledge of the long-dormant statutory powers that federal agencies had to make change, and a strategy for reviving those powers to protect Americans from corporate predators made her a powerful, inspirational figure.

When Joe Biden won the 2020 presidential election, he surprised everyone by appointing Khan to the FTC. It wasn’t just that she had such a radical vision — it was also that she lacked the usual corporate law experience that such an appointee would normally require (experience that would ensure that the FTC was helmed by people whose default view of the world is that it should be structured and regulated by powerful, wealthy people in corporate boardrooms).

Even more surprising was that Khan was made chair of the FTC, something that was only possible because a few Republican Senators broke with their party to support her candidacy:

https://www.senate.gov/legislative/LIS/roll_call_votes/vote1171/vote_117_1_00233.htm

These Republicans saw in Khan an ally in their fight against “woke” Big Tech. For these senators, the problem wasn’t that tech had got too big and powerful — it was that there were a few limited instances in which tech leaders failed to wield that power in the ways they preferred.

The Republican project is a matter of getting turkeys to vote for Christmas by doing a lot of culture war bullshit, cruelly abusing disfavored sexual and racial minorities. This wins support from low-information voters who’ll vote against their class interests and support more monopolies, more tax cuts for the rich, and more cuts to the services they rely on.

But while tech leaders are 100% committed to the project of permanent oligarchic takeover of every sphere of American life, they are less full-throated in their support for hateful, cruel discrimination against disfavored minorities (in this regard, tech leaders resemble the corporate wing of the Democrats, which is where we get the “Silicon Valley is a Democratic Party stronghold” narrative).

This failure to unquestioningly and unstintingly back culture war bullshit put tech leaders in the GOP’s crosshairs. Some GOP politicians actually believe in the culture war bullshit, and are grossly offended that tech is “woke.” Others are smart enough not to get high on their own supply, but worry that any tech obstruction in the bullshit culture wars will make it harder to get sufficient turkey votes for a big fat Christmas surprise.

Biden’s ceding of antitrust policy to the left wing of the party, combined with disaffected GOP senators viewing Khan as their enemy’s enemy, led to Khan’s historic appointment as FTC Chair. In that position, she was joined by a slate of Biden trustbusters, including Jonathan Kanter at the DoJ Antitrust Division, Tim Wu at the White House, and other important, skilled and principled fighters like Alvaro Bedoya (FTC), Rebecca Slaughter (FTC), Rohit Chopra (CFPB), and many others.

Crucially, these new appointees weren’t just principled, they were good at their jobs. In 2021, Tim Wu wrote an executive order for Biden that laid out 72 concrete ways in which the administration could act — with no further Congressional authorization — to blunt corporate power and insulate the American people from oligarchs’ abusive and extractive practices:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

Since then, the antitrust arm of the Biden administration have been fuckin’ ninjas, Getting Shit Done in ways large and small, working — for the first time since Reagan — to protect Americans from predatory businesses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

This is in marked contrast to the corporate Dems’ champions in the administration. People like Pete Buttigieg are heralded as competent technocrats, “realists” who are too principled to peddle hopium to the base, writing checks they can’t cash. All this is cover for a King Log performance, in which Buttigieg’s far-reaching regulatory authority sits unused on a shelf while a million Americans are stranded over Christmas and whole towns are endangered by greedy, reckless rail barons straight out of the Gilded Age:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

The contrast between the Biden trustbusters and their counterparts from the corporate wing is stark. While the corporate wing insists that every pitch is outside of the zone, Khan and her allies are swinging for the stands. They’re trying to make life better for you and me, by declaring commercial surveillance to be an unfair business practice and thus illegal:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/12/regulatory-uncapture/#conscious-uncoupling

And by declaring noncompete “agreements” that shackle good workers to shitty jobs to be illegal:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/02/its-the-economy-stupid/#neofeudal

And naturally, this has really pissed off all the right people: America’s billionaires and their cheerleaders in the press, government, and the hive of scum and villainy that is the Big Law/thinktank industrial-complex.

Take the WSJ: since Khan took office, they have published 67 vicious editorials attacking her and her policies. Khan is living rent-free in Rupert Murdoch’s head. Not only that, he’s given her the presidential suite! You love to see it.

These attacks are worth reading, if only to see how flimsy and frivolous they are. One major subgenre is that Khan shouldn’t be bringing any action against Amazon, because her groundbreaking scholarship about the company means she has a conflict of interest. Holy moly is this a stupid thing to say. The idea that the chair of an expert agency should recuse herself because she is an expert is what the physicists call not even wrong.

But these attacks are even more laughable due to who they’re coming from: people who have the most outrageous conflicts of interest imaginable, and who were conspicuously silent for years as the FTC’s revolving door admitted the a bestiary of swamp-creatures so conflicted it’s a wonder they managed to dress themselves in the morning.

Writing in The American Prospect, David Dayen runs the numbers:

Since the late 1990s, 31 out of 41 top FTC officials worked directly for a company that has business before the agency, with 26 of them related to the technology industry.

https://prospect.org/economy/2023-06-23-attacks-lina-khans-ethics-reveal-projection/

Take Christine Wilson, a GOP-appointed FTC Commissioner who quit the agency in a huff because Khan wanted to do things for the American people, and not their self-appointed oligarchic princelings. Wilson wrote an angry break-up letter to Khan that the WSJ published, presaging their concierge service for Samuel Alito:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/why-im-resigning-from-the-ftc-commissioner-ftc-lina-khan-regulation-rule-violation-antitrust-339f115d

For Wilson to question Khan’s ethics took galactic-scale chutzpah. Wilson, after all, is a commissioner who took cash money from Bristol-Myers Squibb, then voted to approve their merger with Celgene:

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/4365601-Wilson-Christine-Smith-final278.html

Or take Wilson’s GOP FTC predecessor Josh Wright, whose incestuous relationship with the companies he oversaw at the Commission are so intimate he’s practically got a Habsburg jaw. Wright went from Google to the US government and back again four times. He also lobbied the FTC on behalf of Qualcomm (a major donor to Wright’s employer, George Mason’s Antonin Scalia Law School) after working “personally and substantially” while serving at the FTC.

George Mason’s Scalia center practically owns the revolving door, counting fourteen FTC officials among its affliates:

https://campaignforaccountability.org/ttp-investigation-big-techs-backdoor-to-the-ftc/

Since the 1990s, 31 out of 41 top FTC officials — both GOP appointed and appointees backed by corporate Dems — “worked directly for a company that has business before the agency”:

https://www.citizen.org/article/ftc-big-tech-revolving-door-problem-report/

The majority of FTC and DoJ antitrust lawyers who served between 2014–21 left government service and went straight to work for a Big Law firm, serving the companies they’d regulated just a few months before:

https://therevolvingdoorproject.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/The-Revolving-Door-In-Federal-Antitrust-Enforcement.pdf

Take Deborah Feinstein, formerly the head of the FTC’s Bureau of Competition, now a partner at Arnold & Porter, where she’s represented General Electric, NBCUniversal, Unilever, and Pepsi and a whole medicine chest’s worth of pharma giants before her former subordinates at the FTC. Michael Moiseyev who was assistant manager of FTC Competition is now in charge of mergers at Weil Gotshal & Manges, working for Microsoft, Meta, and Eli Lilly.

There’s a whole bunch more, but Dayen reserves special notice for Andrew Smith, Trump’s FTC Consumer Protection boss. Before he was put on the public payroll, Smith represented 120 clients that had business before the Commission, including “nearly every major bank in America, drug industry lobbyist PhRMA, Uber, Equifax, Amazon, Facebook, Verizon, and a variety of payday lenders”:

https://www.citizen.org/sites/default/files/andrew_smith_foia_appeal_response_11_30.pdf

Before Khan, in other words, the FTC was a “conflict-of-interest assembly line, moving through corporate lawyers and industry hangers-on without resistance for decades.”

Khan is the first FTC head with no conflicts. This leaves her opponents in the sweaty, desperate position of inventing conflicts out of thin air.

For these corporate lickspittles, Khan’s “conflict” is that she has a point of view. Specifically, she thinks that the FTC should do its job.

This makes grifters like Jim Jordan furious. Yesterday, Jordan grilled Khan in a hearing where he accused her of violating an ethics official’s advice that she should recuse herself from Big Tech cases. This is a talking point that was created and promoted by Bloomberg:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-06-16/ftc-rejected-ethics-advice-for-khan-recusal-on-meta-case

That ethics official, Lorielle Pankey, did not, in fact, make this recommendation. It’s simply untrue (she did say that Khan presiding over cases that she has made public statements about could be used as ammo against her, but did not say that it violated any ethical standard).

But there’s more to this story. Pankey herself has a gigantic conflict of interest in this case, including a stock portfolio with $15,001 and $50,000 in Meta stock (Meta is another company that has whined in print and in its briefs that it is a poor defenseless lamb being picked on by big, mean ole Lina Khan):

https://www.wsj.com/articles/ethics-official-owned-meta-stock-while-recommending-ftc-chair-recuse-herself-from-meta-case-8582a83b

Jordan called his hearing on the back of this fake scandal, and then proceeded to show his whole damned ass, even as his GOP colleagues got into a substantive and even informative dialog with Khan:

https://prospect.org/power/2023-07-14-jim-jordan-misfires-attacks-lina-khan/

Mostly what came out of that hearing was news about how Khan is doing her job, working on behalf of the American people. For example, she confirmed that she’s investigating OpenAI for nonconsensually harvesting a mountain of Americans’ personal information:

https://www.ft.com/content/8ce04d67-069b-4c9d-91bf-11649f5adc74

Other Republicans, including confirmed swamp creatures like Matt Gaetz, ended up agreeing with Khan that Amazon Ring is a privacy dumpster-fire. Nobodies like Rep TomM assie gave Khan an opening to discuss how her agency is protecting mom-and-pop grocers from giant, price-gouging, greedflation-drunk national chains. Jeff Van Drew gave her a chance to talk about the FTC’s war on robocalls. Lance Gooden let her talk about her fight against horse doping.

But Khan’s opponents did manage to repeat a lot of the smears against her, and not just the bogus conflict-of-interest story. They also accused her of being 0–4 in her actions to block mergers, ignoring the huge number of mergers that have been called off or not initiated because M&A professionals now understand they can no longer expect these mergers to be waved through. Indeed, just last night I spoke with a friend who owns a medium-sized tech company that Meta tried to buy out, only to withdraw from the deal because their lawyers told them it would get challenged at the FTC, with an uncertain outcome.

These talking points got picked up by people commenting on Judge Jacqueline Scott Corley’s ruling against the FTC in the Microsoft-Activision merger. The FTC was seeking an injunction against the merger, and Corley turned them down flat. The ruling was objectively very bad. Start with the fact that Corley’s son is a Microsoft employee who stands reap massive gains in his stock options if the merger goes through.

But beyond this (real, non-imaginary, not manufactured conflict of interest), Corley’s judgment and her remarks in court were inexcusably bad, as Matt Stoller writes:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/judge-rules-for-microsoft-mergers

In her ruling, Corley explained that she didn’t think Microsoft would abuse the market dominance they’d gain by merging their giant videogame platform and studio with one of its largest competitors. Why not? Because Microsoft’s execs pinky-swore that they wouldn’t abuse that power.

Corely’s deference to Microsoft’s corporate priorities goes deeper than trusting its execs, though. In denying the FTC’s motion, she stated that it would be unfair to put the merger on hold in order to have a full investigation into its competition implications because Microsoft and Activision had set a deadline of July 18 to conclude things, and Microsoft would have to pay a penalty if that deadline passed.

This is surreal: a judge ruled that a corporation’s radical, massive merger shouldn’t be subject to full investigation because that corporation itself set an arbitrary deadline to conclude the deal before such an investigation could be concluded. That’s pretty convenient for future mega-mergers — just set a short deadline and Judge Corely will tell regulators that the merger can’t be investigated because the deadline is looming.

And this is all about the future. As Stoller writes, Microsoft isn’t exactly subtle about why it wants this merger. Its own execs said that the reason they were spending “dump trucks” of money buying games studios was to “spend Sony out of business.”

Now, maybe you hate Sony. Maybe you hate Activision. There’s plenty of good reason to hate both — they’re run by creeps who do shitty things to gamers and to their employees. But if you think that Microsoft will be better once it eliminates its competition, then you have the attention span of a goldfish on Adderall.

Microsoft made exactly the same promises it made on Activision when it bought out another games studio, Zenimax — and it broke every one of those promises.

Microsoft has a long, long, long history of being a brutal, abusive monopolist. It is a convicted monopolist. And its bad conduct didn’t end with the browser wars. You remember how the lockdown turned all our homes into rent-free branch offices for our employers? Microsoft seized on that moment to offer our bosses keystroke-and-click level surveillance of our use of our own computers in our own homes, via its Office365 bossware product:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/25/the-peoples-amazon/#clippys-revenge

If you think a company that gave your boss a tool to spy on their employees and rank them by “productivity” as a prelude to firing them or cutting their pay is going to treat gamers or game makers well once they have “spent the competition out of business,” you’re a credulous sucker and you are gonna be so disappointed.

The enshittification play is obvious: use investor cash to make things temporarily nice for customers and suppliers, lock both of them in — in this case, it’s with a subscription-based service similar to Netflix’s — and then claw all that value back until all that’s left is a big pile of shit.

The Microsoft case is about the future. Judge Corely doesn’t take the future seriously: as she said during the trial, “All of this is for a shooter videogame.” The reason Corely greenlit this merger isn’t because it won’t be harmful — it’s because she doesn’t think those harms matter.

But it does, and not just because games are an art form that generate billions of dollars, employ a vast workforce, and bring pleasure to millions. It also matters because this is yet another one of the Reaganomic precedents that tacitly endorses monopolies as efficient forces for good. As Stoller writes, Corley’s ruling means that “deal bankers are sharpening pencils and saying ‘Great, the government lost! We can get mergers through everywhere else.’ Basically, if you like your high medical prices, you should be cheering on Microsoft’s win today.”

Ronald Reagan’s antitrust has colonized our brains so thoroughly that commentators were surprised when, immediately after the ruling, the FTC filed an appeal. Don’t they know they’ve lost? the commentators said:

https://gizmodo.com/ftc-files-appeal-of-microsoft-activision-deal-ruling-1850640159

They echoed the smug words of insufferable Activision boss Mike Ybarra: “Your tax dollars at work.”

https://twitter.com/Qwik/status/1679277251337277440

But of course Khan is appealing. The only reason that’s surprising is that Khan is working for us, the American people, not the giant corporations the FTC is supposed to be defending us from. Sure, I get that this is a major change! But she needs our backing, not our cheap cynicism.

The business lobby and their pathetic Renfields have hoarded all the nice things and they don’t want us to have any. Khan and her trustbuster colleagues want the opposite. There is no measure so small that the corporate world won’t have a conniption over it. Take click to cancel, the FTC’s perfectly reasonable proposal that if you sign up for a recurring payment subscription with a single click, you should be able to cancel it with a single click.

The tooth-gnashing and garment-rending and scenery-chewing over this is wild. America’s biggest companies have wheeled out their biggest guns, claiming that if they make it too easy to unsubscribe, they will lose money. In other words, they are currently making money not because people want their products, but because it’s too hard to stop paying for them!

https://www.theregister.com/2023/07/12/ftc_cancel_subscriptions/

We shouldn’t have to tolerate this sleaze. And if we back Khan and her team, they’ll protect us from these scams. Don’t let them convince you to give up hope. This is the start of the fight, not the end. We’re trying to reverse 40 years’ worth of Reagonmics here. It won’t happen overnight. There will be setbacks. But keep your eyes on the prize — this is the most exciting moment for countering corporate power and giving it back to the people in my lifetime. We owe it to ourselves, our kids and our planet to fight one.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

[Image ID: A line drawing of pilgrims ducking a witch tied to a ducking stool. The pilgrims' clothes have been emblazoned with the logos for the WSJ, Microsoft, Activision and Blizzard. The witch's face has been replaced with that of FTC chair Lina M Khan.]

[quartings]

The original Gravity Falls pitches and pilot just dropped!!

(Link for those who want it)

For those who don't wanna look through all of it, here are some highlights I found!

Interesting changes from the pitch (What Alex Hirsch showed Disney to make them greenlight the show):

Stan’s secret was that he’s secretly protecting the townsfolk from weirdness, nothing to do with Ford. No mention of Ford in the pitch at all. Stan also wanted Dipper and Mabel to be his successors in this version.

Mabel used to be the unhygienic one instead of Dipper.

Wendy was brunette and didn’t work as the Mystery Shack cashier, instead selling veggie juice out of her van.

As such, Soos (Jesús in this version) worked the register in addition to his handyman job in this version. He was a bit less of a hard worker here, watching telenovelas on the job sometimes, but still loves his job and is extremely loyal to Stan.

Robbie was almost exactly the same, parents’ backstory and all, but there’s an interesting note that he occasionally clashed with Gideon in this version (which we never got in the final show)

Speaking of which, Gideon’s last name in this version was Garrymore instead of Gleeful.

Gideon used to personally harass and prank Stan, going out of his way to vandalize Stan’s stuff himself.

Manly Dan was always planned to be Wendy’s dad. In this version, he hates the idea that his hipster daughter prefers conserving the environment instead of chopping down forests

(For those who wanted more Wendy episodes, I’m surprised Hirsch didn’t use this as a conflict for one of them- it makes her interesting without costing any of her “coolness”)

Sheriff Blubs was originally Sheriff “Blumps”. Durland has the same name likely because Hirsch said he’s named after a real guy.

With no Ford and no Journal mentioned, episodes were originally very different-

“The President’s Cabinet/Irrational Treasure.” Instead of via the journal, Dipper and Mabel find a record of Quentin Trembley in a box buried in the yard. No Pacifica mentioned here.

“Secret Dungeon” Dipper becomes obsessed with a recalled arcade cabinet. Mabel must try and save him by finding the original high scorer.

“Thtupid Thursday” One of the many ‘Shining Twins’ episode concepts Hirsch wanted to do. Dipper and Mabel learn ‘twin telepathy’ from some creepy twins, and soon regret it.

“Periodic Mabel” Mabel invents her own element for the science fair and Dipper is jealous.

“Only the Clonely/Boyz Crazy” The exact same episode just without Candy and Grenda. Sev’ral Timez is called “ReelBoyzzz” in this version.

“Big Dipper” With surprisingly no tie to Little Dipper, Dipper asks a fortune teller to make him older so he can win Wendy over. But she makes him 22, so he and Mabel have to undo the spell.

“Sweater off Dead” Mabel buys an antique sweater and is possessed by the soul of the granny who last wore it. Stan is terrified by the spirit because she reminds him of his ex-wife Marilyn (Deep Edalyn Clawthorne lore???) so Dipper must “Swexorcize” his sister and save her.

“Teed Off/The Golf War” With no Pacifica, this was originally a Dipper vs Gideon episode- No Lilliputtians, either. Instead, the 13th hole is cursed and traps the cast in a time loop.

Now, changes from the Production Pitch (I’m guessing for when the show was already greenlit and this was a way to brief crew members on what the show would 100% be about)

Stan’s secret (likely the portal) and the journal are now set in stone.

Emphasis on continuity and character development. Nothing gets “reset” by next episode. All plot developments are permanent.

All character names and designs are locked in. Pacifica has now been added, as well as Waddles, Gompers, Lazy Susan, Candy and Grenda, and McGucket (No mention or hint at his past here)

Interesting to note is that there is still zero outright mention of Ford and Bill in this version, even though multiple episodes were seemingly in production at this point.

Manly Dan’s conflict with Wendy from the original pitch is still here. Making it even more mindblowing that we never got it in the show

Blubs and Durland are described as a little more playful instead of mean like in the original pitch.

All episode examples made it into the show with no changes this time. They are Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Fight Fighters, Boyz Crazy, and The Land Before Swine.

[luveline]

Hello! If you are in the mood for it, I’d love to read some more hurt/comfort w zombie au Steve! Is it bad I love when reader gets hurt? Maybe she almost gets bitten and can’t run away for some reason, or if you have another idea that is better (my brain isn’t working rn) thank you! Have a lovely day, be kind to yourself!

zombie au | fem, 1.3k

“Ready?” 

Steve kneels, offering his palms braced ready for your foot. “Ready.” 

You take a running start and press your foot into his palms, gasping breathlessly at the sudden weightlessness of his strength underneath you, pushing you up as your hands scrabble for purchase at the top of the wall. Steve does his best to help you all the way over, on his tiptoes no doubt as he pushes the bottoms of your shoes and forces you onto the second story. 

Your hands ache. The floor is cluttered with chunks of plaster that bite your skin as you struggle onto your knees. 

“Anything stand out?” Steve asks from below. 

There’s a vinyl player cracked and on its side by the wall, a shelf of albums in faded disarray beside it. You climb onto your feet, careful of the warped floorboards and the darkest mould of water damage to the right side of the room. “Uh, there’s a lot of stuff up here.” 

The bed is sinking into itself, once pink sheets turning an unfortunate orange from sun and weather alike, the wardrobe spilled and sprayed in all directions. Any clothes worth wearing will be in the dresser on the dry side of the room, or through the door and in another bedroom. “I think there might be pajamas and underwear and stuff in the dresser. I don’t know how I’m gonna get you up, though.” 

“I’ll look for something. Be careful, okay?” 

You turn to the edge, peering down at Steve with a small smile. “Yeah, okay. Shout if you need me.” 

“Sure.” He smiles back. “Seriously, be careful.” 

“There’s not much in here.” 

“That hasn’t stopped you getting yourself hurt before.” 

“Is that snark I’m detecting?”

“Baby, when I get up there,” he threatens without heat. 

You blow him a slightly uncharacteristic kiss and wave your fingers at him. 

You and Steve work in a quiet tandem clearing the house for things you can use. You have a rather large list of things you’re going to need soon; underwear for both of you, socks, some pants that will actually fit Steve, soap, a bedroll or anything that could work as one, batteries for the radio, a torch, etc. The list goes on. 

The underwear situation is dire. You’ve started wearing boxers in lieu of any better option. Steve says he likes the look of them —you can’t believe him sometimes. You have hair on your thighs and the boxers aren’t a cute look, the last time he tried to kiss your stomach you both realised you had a streak of dirt on your ribs you’d failed to scrub away in the stream. You never, ever feel clean, but it doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t find you pretty. Same way you find him handsome in his holey jeans or with enough grease in his hair to fry your cuts of rabbit. 

The dresser proves hopeful. The top drawer has underwear that at first glance seem too small, but when stretched have enough give to work out fine. You won’t find boxers in here for Steve and you aren’t sure he’ll like the hipster cut of the panties you pocket. “Steve?” 

“Yeah?” he calls. 

“I’m gonna go see if there’s more bedrooms.” 

“No, hey!” He comes running into the living room below you, looking severe. “Hey, wait for me first, you don’t know what’s up there?” 

That’s why you’re going to be cautious. “Steve, I have the knife, and we would’ve heard by now if there was a geek up here,” you say, heading back for the door, “they’re pretty loud when they–”

You’re flat on your back before you’ve even really opened the door. 

As urgent as things may be, the second you realise it’s a geek on top of you, you can’t stop yourself from thinking you deserve it for being so smug. And then you start screaming. 

It’s a gnashing, gnarly mess of black gore and greened skin, the stink of it turning your stomach, it’s weight heavy and hard on your chest. Fuck, it hurts more than it scares you, all snapping, faltering teeth. Trapped. You squirm and shriek, your panic turning to rage as you slam your hand into the things throat and push it upwards, away from you, but it’s so fucking big —why is so huge? You shriek again as its teeth snap at your hand, but you’re not completely useless, not fully, pulling the knife from your shallow pocket and flicking it open one-handed like you’ve practiced. With a cry, you slam it as deep as it’ll go into the geeks neck. Miss, you pull it out and slam again, looking for the stem. You must stab the thing ten times before it stops grunting and goes still, your lips crammed tightly shut as blood gushes down its back and the ridges of your arm. 

You realise Steve’s screaming your name in the quiet. 

“Answer me!” He shouts. “Are you okay? Answer me!” 

You pant. “Fine! Fine, it didn’t bite me!” Heat pools behind your eyes anyways, the memory of its teeth grazing your hand startling. You push at the body, needing to analyse your hand, quickly, there’s still time to cut the whole thing off— 

You’re trapped. 

“Steve, I can’t get it off me,” you say, squeezed and panicking, “I can’t move, I– I can’t–”

“No, no, baby, it’s okay, I’m coming up! I’ll be right there, I’m gonna be right there!” 

It takes him ten minutes. You devolve into a frenzy of panic and defeat, trapped by such a monstrous thing. It must be four hundred pounds of gored decay. You can feel it wetting your clothes. 

Steve eventually clambers up onto the bedroom’s weak floor with a groan and a frantic, “Babe!” 

“I’m fine!” 

He drags himself across the floor, throws himself at the geek to push it off of you, and it’s so heavy full of water or mould or whatever it is that’s inside these devils that you have to push as hard as you can beside him before the geek sags onto its side and releases you. You’re crying great shuddery tears as you flop into Steve’s embrace, his chest moving like a hummingbirds under your cheek. 

“Sorry!” you say, clutching him tightly. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” he says back, between gasps that sound painful. Still, he attempts gentleness. “It’s okay, you’re okay, it didn’t get you? Are you sure? Let me look, honey, I need to see.” 

You twist away to let his gaze run over your neck and face. “My hands,” you offer. 

“I can’t tell. I– you’re covered in fucking blood.”

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. It’s–” If it bit you, you’re dead already. Steve clutches you so hard that you’re worried your head is going to pop off of its stem. “Why can’t you just be careful?” he asks quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why can’t you–” He cuts himself off, his nose digging into your ear. “It didn’t get you?” 

“No. No, I don’t think so.” 

Steve pushes you away from him far too quickly for your liking, but you forgive him when you realise he’s checking your hand against the light coming in from down below you. If you were bitten you’re sure you’d feel it by now, and if there were teeth marks in your hands, he’d see them already. 

“What the fuck is that thing?” Steve asks in a mutter, pressing your bloodied hands to his chest. 

You bite your lips. “I,” you say softly, terrified and tired and thankful your new underwear is still clean on the dresser, “don’t have a fucking clue.” 

[starlitsprout]

In Case of Emergency

(Spencer Reid x Medic! Reader)

Warnings: violence, blood, cursing, and eventual smut 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

word count: 2K

Amidst an increase of injuries out in the field, a new team member is assigned to the BAU. A medic. Tasked with keeping the team alive, but when an unexpected threat challenges her ability to think on her feet, the team is forced to rethink their assumptions of their newest member.

Next | Previous | Beginning

Chapter One: The Newbie

The bullpen was unusually quiet that morning. A rare moment of stillness between cases. Hotch had just finished a conference call and was making his way back to speak with the team when a loud voice cut through the silence engulfing the bullpen.

"I swear, we need someone to fix the coffee machine in here," Garcia said loudly, emerging from her cave. "Caffine is the most important thing for a team that basically runs off it."

Morgan chuckled and raised his mug. "You're not wrong. That's why I got it fixed this morning, babygirl." He winked at her, leaning back in his chair.

"You sweet, sweet angel sculpted by the gods, I could kiss you!" Garcia cheered excitedly, making her way to the newly fixed machine.

"I wish you would've said something earlier before I paid an arm and a leg getting a coffee at that over-priced hipster place," Rossi said, sipping on his drink.

The team shared a laugh, and as the banter died down, Hotch's voice, steady and serious, spoke out. "Alright, everyone, conference room."

Everyone gathered around the table in the conference room, sitting down and shifting their attention to Hotch, who set down a folder on the table in front of them.

"Now, I know everyone has been feeling the weight of the recent cases. There have been a lot of injuries." Hotch took a pause, his gaze flicking briefly to the members of the team. "And a few close call, which bring me to the reason for this meeting."

A beat of silence hung in the air, with some of the members of the team shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

"We've been assigned a new team member," Hotch spoke, his voice flat but carrying weight. "We've been relying on on-call paramedics too much, and frankly, in light of the increased number of injuries, it's time we had one more consistently available."

The room fell into a stunned silence.

"A medic? Like, full-time medic?" Prentiss asked with a frown, unsure of the new addition.

"Exactly," Hotch replied. "She'll be accompanying us on cases, assessing injuries, and providing immediate care when needed. Think of it as one less thing to worry about when things go south."

"That doesn't sound bad," Morgan said with a shrug. "It would be better than waiting 30 minutes for someone to patch us up."

The team nodded in agreement, but a sense of uncertainty still wafted through the air.

Hotch notices this and holds up a hand to calm the team's nerves. "I understand that you all might have some concerns. But her credentials speak for themselves. She's highly qualified, top of her class, and has a specialty in trauma medicine along with combat experience. She'll be a great asset to us."

Before anyone could respond, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

You stepped out, a figure so unexpectedly delicate in appearance that it caught the attention of everyone in the room.

You looked young, maybe in your early to mid-twenties, your frame smaller than most members of the team, with a posture that was straight but a bit shaky as you approached the conference door.

You wore a purple blouse, simple black jeans, and black boots, all paired with a small bag that you were holding in one hand.

"Agent Hotchner?" You spoke, calm and polite, but there was a slight timidness in the way you talked, as if you were still gauging your place there.

Hotch extended a hand, his expression neutral as he shook your hand. "Yes, we're glad you could join us Y/N. I'd like you to meet the team." He gestured toward the group sitting before you.

You nodded and turned, offering everyone a small but shy smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to working with everyone."

The team went around introducing themselves, and then Hotch took you out into the bullpen to show you where your desk would be.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Garcia's eyes immediately widened as she looked at the rest of the team exclaiming, "Oh! My God! She's so cute!"

Morgan crossed his arms. "She's got the look of someone who's been through some stuff, but something tells me she's not exactly a field operative." His voice was teasing but somewhat disbelieving, as though he couldn't quite picture someone like you- small, pretty, and gentle- dealing with the darkness of their field.

Reid, who had read through all your files in less than a minute, spoke out. "According to what I've read here, she's been trained in combat medicine and emergency trauma care, obtaining a medical degree from Harvard. Along with extensive experience in the military."

"I guess Hotch was right. She's legit." Prentiss, who was impressed with your background, spoke.

"She's definitely more than legit along with qualified. Hotch and I screened a lot of different candidates, and she was the most experienced and talented. She's going to be a good asset to the team." JJ said, smirking slightly. "She might even surprise you while out in the field. Speaking of which, we should be heading out soon. I'll brief you guys on the case when we're on the jet."

JJ walked out of the conference room and into the bullpen to gather all her things; the rest of the team followed after her, readying for the next case.

As he gathered his essentials, Reid out of the corner of his eye watched you at your new desk, which happened to be across from his own.

He couldn't put a finger on it; there was something about you that was- different. Your demeanor was calm, almost too calm for someone of your experience. You seemed almost out of place among the hardened and serious agents, but you didn't seem to mind.

"So, what were you doing before this?" Morgan pressed, not satisfied with the vague answers your file had given.

You smiled politely. "I worked with military units in war zones. Field trauma, combat injuries, and emergency surgeries. Taught me what to do when things go wrong."

Morgan nodded, impressed with your answer.

Your response was measured, and yet there was a level of confidence in your words that made Reid take note.

As everyone stood to prepare for the case briefing, Reid found himself still observing you. Your movements were deliberate, graceful, as if you were in perfect control of yourself. He didn’t know why, but something about the way you looked so serene in a room full of high-strung agents made him feel… different.

30 minutes later, the team boarded the jet en route to Chicago to investigate a series of brutal murders. The cabin was filled with the usual chatter. Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch were discussing theories about the unsub while JJ worked on her laptop in the back.

You sat next to Reid, who was reading through case files looking for any clues or signs. You were, out of habit, arranging your medical bag, carefully ensuring everything was in its proper place. You could feel Reid stealing glances in between reading the case files.

"How long have you been with the military?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.

You didn't glance up at him, focused on rearranging your different medical dressings for easier selection and quick access. "Five years. I spent most of my time in the Middle East." You spoke with such ease, not losing focus on your current task, as though the violence and chaos of your line of work didn't seem to affect you.

Reid nodded, his curiosity piqued. "That must have been... intense."

You gave a small shrug, finally finishing your re-organization, looking at Reid with a flicker of something in your eye. "You get used to it. People are always in need of help. That's what matters. It makes it worth it."

"I guess I just-" Reid shook his head slightly, rewording his thought. "No offense, but you don't seem like someone who's been in war zones."

Your lips twitched in amusement. "Because I don't look like I've been through hell and back?"

Reid immediately backtracked, his expression turning slightly flustered. "N-no, that's not what I meant! I just-"

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "It's okay, Spencer. I know what you mean." You re-adjusted yourself in your seat, getting comfortable. "I get it. I don't exactly fit the mold. Everyone I work with or meet expects a battle-hardened, no-nonsense type with scars and a thousand-yard stare. Not...me."

Reid watched you carefully. "You don't seem bothered by that."

You shook your head. "At first, I was, but now, I've accepted myself for who I am. People have always underestimated me my whole life. I just learned the best way to handle it. That's why when I noticed your guys' reaction to me, I didn't take it to heart."

Reid's expression flickered for a moment. "I...can relate to that."

Your eye met his, curiosity sparking. "Yeah?"

He exhaled, looking back down at the case files in hand. "When I first joined BAU, I was twenty-two. I was the youngest agent they'd ever had, and the baby face didn't help. I had three PhDs but zero field experience, and I was thrown into a unit full of seasoned profilers who had seen things I could barely imagine."

You listened intently as he spoke, recognizing the quiet vulnerability in his tone while subconsciously leaning in, moving closer to him.

"They didn't mean to, but the team doubted me. They didn't think I could handle myself. And...to be fair, I did struggle at first," he admitted, giving you a sheepish smile. "I wasn't the best shot like Hotch, nor was I physically intimidating like Morgan, and I wasn't exactly the most socially adept person in the room."

You smiled at that. "I find that hard to believe."

He gave you a knowing look. "Trust me. I was an easy target for teasing."

You hummed, nodding. "So, what changed?"

Reid shrugged, closing the case files and setting them down on the table in front of you two. "I proved myself. I solved cases, learned how to shoot, and saved lives. Eventually, I became part of the team." He looked at you. "I'm sorry if we came off a bit judgemental. I'm glad you didn't hold it against us. If you keep being who you are, the rest of the team will see what you're capable of."

You gave him another small but genuine smile, appreciating his words. "Thanks, Spencer, but there's no need to apologize. Being the newbie comes with a bit of questioning and judgment, and it just encourages me to work harder."

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, the hum of the jet filling the space, with the rest of the team settling down and taking a much-needed moment of rest before things ramped up with the case.

You watched as Reid turned a page in his book, his fingers carefully holding the edges.

"What are you reading?" you asked, tilting your head.

Reid perked up slightly, always eager to talk about books. "It's a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's works. I was in the mood for something gothic."

Your eyes lit up. "I love Poe!"

He blinked, surprised. "You do?"

You grinned. “Yeah! ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ was one of the first stories that really creeped me out as a kid. And ‘Annabel Lee’—don’t even get me started on how beautifully haunting that poem is.”

Reid’s eyes lit up in that rare way they did when he found someone who shared his niche interests. “You like gothic literature?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I also love Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, Shirley Jackson—"

Reid sat up straighter, visibly intrigued. “Wait, you’ve read Shirley Jackson?”

“Of course!” you said, laughing. “I adore her work. ‘We Have Always Lived in the Castle’ is one of my all-time favorites.”

“That book is a masterpiece,” Reid agreed, his excitement growing. “Jackson had this incredible way of creating unsettling atmospheres without relying on outright horror.”

You nodded eagerly. “Exactly! She was a genius at psychological tension. The way she wrote Merricat’s perspective was just so eerie and fascinating.”

Reid grinned, looking genuinely impressed. “Not many people I meet have actually read Jackson’s work, let alone appreciate it the way you do.”

You smirked playfully. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Reid let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m starting to see that.”

For the first time since you boarded the jet, you felt like you had clicked with someone. You had known Spencer Reid for less than a day, but already, you could tell that there was something… different about him. He wasn’t just brilliant—he was kind, thoughtful, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

And, for the first time, Reid found himself feeling the same about you.

Maybe you weren’t what the team expected. Maybe you weren’t what he expected.

But something told him that you were going to fit in just fine.

Authors Note:

AHHHH! I had so much fun writing this one! If you couldn't tell, I'm very much into criminal minds at the moment (RIP my Peter Parker fic). I started re-watching it and Grey's Anatomy at the same time, so I thought, why not make the reader a medic? I think a medic is something the team desperately needs and always wondered why they didn't have one lol. I've already started writing the next chapter, but I hope everyone enjoys this one! I decided to try out some new things, like making my own dividers (which I'm very proud of how they came out). Anyways, thank you for reading my word vomit, and I hope you liked it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Taking Root 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Bucky and Leaf.

Summary: a neighbourly connection might be more than chance.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Steve should be happy. Bucky is outside. He’s taken to having his coffee on the balcony. Alpine too as she swirls around his ankles. He sits in the folding chair and sighs over the dark roast. 

The air is soft and dewy. The moisture foretells brewing showers. He can smell the rain already. 

Her door snaps on its hinges. Her footfalls clap in her fuzzy slippers and she lets out a wispy gasp. He acts just as surprised as he peers down onto her balcony. 

“Oh, you’re out here!” She clumsily sets her cup down and backs up. She tugs down her sweater bashfully and giggles. “Oops.” 

She awkwardly sidles back through the door then scurries away from sight.  He chews his lip. The image of her thighs clings in his mind. She was wearing those panties that give a peek of the crease of her pelvis and legs, just a hint of what’s beneath. 

She pokes her head sheepishly out and giggles again, “it’s early.” 

“No worries,” his voice is like silt, he’s groggy himself. 

“I... uh... I like to have my tea with my posies,” she trills. “Coffee?” 

He looks down at his mug and it nearly slips from his grasp as Alpine hops onto his lap and knocks it with her head. 

“Yep, apparently she wants me to share,” he strokes her soft head. 

“Oh, she’s so cute. Kitty, kitty,” she makes chittery noises at the cat. “I always had cats before but this place is too small. So I got flowers instead.” 

“Makes sense,” he nods. “Well, Alpine loves company. Guess I bore her...” his heart leaps. Should he? “If you ever want to come meet her...” he sits up, “well, you know, I could also use a second look at these pansies. They’re looking droopy.” 

She hums and slurps her tea, “oh, sure, if it’s not too much trouble, I could spare a few pets for the pretty kitty.” 

Alpine stretches up and purrs, rubbing her head on his chin. He gently drags his hand down her back and she sits. Leaf laughs. 

“Aww, she’s adorable,” she preens. 

So are you, he thinks. 

“Just let me know. I gotta go work today but maybe tomorrow.” 

“Maybe,” he tries not to show the racing of his pulse. “I’ll let you know, Alpine holds grudges so you wouldn’t want to let her down.” 

“How could I?” She sings. 

~ 

It’s lonely. Before, Bucky didn’t notice. He enjoyed the solace. The silence, well, mostly. The neighbours above have heavy feet and the ones to the left of them love to blast music. 

When she’s gone, he’s left to his tinkering. His business keeps him distracted and with a roof over his head. He’s been hoarding any profit he can. He doesn’t want to be here forever. He could afford a storefront soon enough. He could buy a townhouse big enough for both of them. 

He examines the watch. The new strap suits the antique face. He fixes and restores whatever he can. There’s a lot of hipsters out there interested in rusty old bits. 

The rain patters on the window pane. It adds to the grimness of the apartment. If Steve was here, he’d nag him for having the curtains closed. Where is he these days anyway? It’s not a real question, Bucky knows. He's off bothering that woman at the shelter. 

He sighs and gets up. Shut up, Steve. He tugs the curtains apart. It doesn’t add much light. Alpine jumps into the window. Yeah, yeah, I know. 

He pauses as he sees movement from her window. He leans in to see her better. She’s sopping wet. He can just barely make her out in her bedroom through the rivulets. She peels off her shirt and he holds his breath. She turns and he gets a full view of her bra. It follows quickly as she balls it up with her soaked shirt. 

He gulps and stares at her chest. It’s so full and soft. His fingers twitch. Something else too. 

He backs away. If she looked up, she would catch him. Damn. He blows out and stretches as he crosses the apartment. 

Tomorrow. She promised. He drops onto the couch and Alpine skitters off. He hears the clunk of her tree in his room as she hops up on the shelf. She likes to watch the rain and the pigeons and just the world outside. 

He closes his eyes and leans his head back. He sees her on the inside of his eyelids. She’s beside him on the couch. Her shirt off. She’s rubbing his thigh as she giggles that giggle. His jeans get tighter and she puts her hand over it and gasps. 

His zipper splits easily as she pulls him out. She hums as she takes him in her hand. The ache squeezes deep down. She strokes him gently. 

“Tighter,” he groans and his eyes snap open.  

He grips himself until he might burst. He pumps up and down, curling forward as his breath hitches. He shouldn’t do it out here. He doesn’t fucking care. 

He closes his eyes again. He wants her there, in his lap, his face buried in her tits as she rides him. She could play with his hair as he plays with her clit, feel her clench around his dick as she gets close. 

Close! He’s close. 

He cups his hand under his sac and aims his dick up his stomach. He’s going to ruin his shirt but he doesn’t fucking care. He holds onto the vision of her as he growls through his climax, quaking until he’s spent and breathless. 

The rain continues to tempo against the glass, drawing him back to reality. He thinks of her panties and the plushness of her thighs. He purrs. 

The lock twists and his adrenaline surges. Shit. He shoves his dick back in his jeans and hurries away as Steve struggles with the bent key. He closes himself in his room and changes his shirt, wiping inside his pants with the old one. 

“Buck?” Steve calls out as the front door shuts. “You here?” 

“Yeah, here,” Bucky calls baack. 

“You coming?” 

No, I just came, he nearly snorts. He inches open his door. 

“Where?” 

Steve appears at the end of the hall, “to the meeting.” 

“Shit, almost forgot,” Bucky says. “Fine, nothing better to do.” 

[legobiwan]

Gravity Falls fic rec list...Part 2.

I should be grading writing right now, but in the spirit of procrastination, I'm going to instead post about my favorite new fics that have emerged in the post-Book of Bill era.

~~~~~~

Gen Fics

A Mariner’s Guide to the Unexplained by mariezies

Another fic that tackles the idea of Stan's criminal past coming back to haunt him as the elder Pines twins take to the sea. What I really like about this fic are Ford's inner monologues and in particular, the way he overthinks his interactions with his brother post-Weirdmaggedon due to the crushing level of guilt he feels. Bonus points for the incredibly adorable cat OC who joins the twins on the Stan o'War II. Incomplete.

We're Still Here by Simplistic_Apricity

What if Stan hadn't knocked Ford through the portal in 1982 and stuck around Gravity Falls instead? A bajillion fics have been written about this concept, but this one takes a slightly different approach as to the fallout from a Bill-possessed Ford attacking his brother as Ford slowly (slowly) comes to terms with what exactly he has wrought in that basement. The characterization and interactions of the twins and Fiddleford are incredibly grounded, avoiding melodrama while still being wildly effective. Incomplete. TWs for violence and medical trauma.

~~~~~~

Billford Fics

Not to sound like a 2013 hipster, but I do want to state that I hopped on this seafaring vessel pre-BoB and am delighted to witness the explosion of works exploring the demented, tortured relationship between these two absolute disasters. I've decided to let my cringe flag fly high and free here, with the caveat that I only indulge in triangle!Bill stories (accept no substitutions), as, let's face it, Ford is a freak (affectionate) and he loves his geometry.

Statement Abnegation by Anonymous

This one probably needs no introduction, but I'd be wholly remiss if I didn't include it on my list. A+ characterization of both Ford and Bill and it fucking nails the landing. Ford is taken prisoner during Weirdmaggedon, but this time Bill's playing for keeps. Complete. TWs for torture, death (temporary), Stockholm syndrome, and explicit sexual content.

apology tour by dolorous

There's something downright wistful about this story, which presents as "crack taken seriously" when Bill chooses Ford to be his keeper/chaperone as part of a Theraprism-mandated apology tour to those he has wronged post-BoB. Ford hates Bill. Ford sometimes doesn't hate Bill. Ford definitely hates Bill. And now they're stuck on the road trip from hell. Complete. Implied past (current/future?) relationship, no sexual content.

Then it becomes, it becomes, it becomes a problem by tempusedaxrerum

Takes place post-Betrayal but (so far) pre-Stanley arriving in Gravity Falls. Bill is determined to drag Ford into opening the Portal, kicking and screaming (limbs optional). Features an incredibly well-developed OC who is battling demons of her own when she has the misfortune of crossing paths with both Bill and Ford on a snowy evening in Oregon. Incomplete. TWs for violence, attempted sexual assault via possession, substance abuse.

Live, Laugh, Lather, Rinse, Repeat by ShibaIntuit

The conceit of this story is absolutely wild. Essentially, Ford eats a cursed piece of pizza and suffers from existential indigestion. The world-building once Ford is in the multiverse is delightful as an older Ford tries to renegotiate his past with a Bill Cipher of thirty years previous. Incomplete. TWs for violence.

as falls gravity so falls gravity falls by underwater_owl

A series of three stories that take a deep dive into Ford's subconscious while exploring the idea of the Axolotl placing Bill under Ford's mental power due to shenanigans you are better off reading about than me explaining here. Bait & Switch is the main narrative, which is a gen work featuring the whole extended Pines family plus Mabel and Dipper's mother, while Because & Despite and Cause & Effect explore the intense psychosexual relationship between Ford and Bill before and during the events of Bait & Switch. These last two stories really dig into the nature of Ford's deepest and darkest desires and the utterly twisted relationship between Ford and Bill. Incomplete. TWs for explicit sexual content (read the tags on those two last stories, folks! This author isn't, or is, I suppose, fucking around).

Snakes in the Garden by Miss_Ginger_Bread

Another Jimmy Snakes story! Because both Pines twins have terrible taste in men/demonic entities. A ghost from Stan's past shows up in Norway, prompting Ford to take matters into his own hands. Lovely interactions between the Pines twins, including a murderous, protective Ford and a Ford who is harboring a gigantic, triangle-shaped secret from his brother. Incomplete. TWs for abusive relationships.

[waughymommy]

Chapter 3: Stepping Out

 

I stood in front of the hallway mirror, adjusting a button-down shirt  I hadn’t worn in a very long time. The house felt eerily quiet without Abby's music or the constant buzz of her phone notifications. Emily appeared behind me, already dressed in a sleek black dress that made her look years younger.

"Here, let me help you with that," she said, adjusting the collar of my shirt, straightening the back and settling the wayward collar points into place.

I hesitated, torn between accepting her help and asserting my independence. "I've got it, Em," I said, perhaps a bit too sharply.

She raised an eyebrow but stepped back. "Jeez, relax. Just trying to help."

I immediately felt a pang of guilt. "Sorry, I just... I can do it."

Emily smiled softly, that motherly look in her eyes that both comforted and frustrated me. "I know you can, honey. You ready to go?"

As we stepped out into the warm evening air, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. This was our first real night out as empty nesters, a chance to rediscover ourselves as a couple rather than just parents.

The restaurant was one of those trendy new places downtown, all exposed brick and Edison bulbs. As we settled into our seats, I couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. The other diners seemed younger, hipper, more at ease in this environment.

“Well, this is... nice," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Emily reached across the table, patting my hand. "It's okay if you're not comfortable, Greg. We can go somewhere else if you'd prefer." 

I bristled slightly at her tone. There it was again, that hint of motherly concern that both soothed and irked me. "No, no, this is fine," I insisted. "I'm just saying, it's been a while since we've been out like this."

We perused the menu, filled with items I could barely pronounce. "Quinoa? Acai? When did food start sounding like incantations?" I mused.  “I think these were spells in Abby’s boy wizard books.”

Emily chuckled, but I caught a hint of exasperation in her voice. "It's called being cultured, Greg. Here, let me help you pick something."

As she leaned over to point out dishes on my menu, I found myself torn between appreciating her help and wanting to assert my independence. I was a grown man, for crying out loud. I could order my own damn dinner.

The waiter approached, a young man with carefully styled hair and a hipster beard. "Good evening, folks. Can I start you off with some drinks?"

I glanced at Emily, raising an eyebrow. "What do you say, Em? Shall we live dangerously?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not? It's not like we have to rush home to relieve the babysitter anymore."

As the evening progressed, we laughed and talked, sharing stories and dreams. On the surface, it was everything I had hoped our first night as empty nesters would be. But underneath, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were both trying too hard, performing the roles of a carefree couple rather than truly inhabiting them.

Midway through the meal, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The beer was going right through me, and I was debating whether to excuse myself to the restroom. Emily, ever observant, noticed my discomfort.

"Greg, honey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... you know."

Emily leaned in, lowering her voice. "Do you need to use the restroom?"

I felt my face flush with embarrassment. "Emily!" I hissed, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard. "I'm not five years old. I can handle my own... bathroom needs."��   

She held up her hands defensively. "I'm just trying to help. You looked uncomfortable."

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Excuse me," I muttered, making my way to the restroom.

As I stood at the urinal, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. On one hand, Emily's concern was touching. She cared about me and wanted to make sure I was comfortable. But on the other hand, her motherly tone made me feel small. I was her husband, not her child. Didn't she see that?

When I returned to the table, Emily was sipping her wine, a look of concern on her face. "Everything okay?" she asked.

I nodded, forcing a smile. "All good, babe. Now, where were we?"

As the night wore on, I found myself increasingly aware of the dichotomy in our relationship. Emily's nurturing nature, which had been such a comfort during our years of parenting, now felt stifling when it was directed full blast at me with no Abby to roll her eyes and deflect it. Yet part of me craved that affirmation, that unconditional love she offered so freely.

We finished our meal and stepped out into the warm night air. Emily linked her arm through mine, and I felt a surge of conflicting emotions - love, frustration, comfort, and a desperate desire to be seen as the man I wanted to be, not the child she sometimes treated me as.

"This was nice," Emily said, leaning her head on my shoulder. "We should do it more often."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. How could I explain the turmoil inside me? How could I tell her that I loved her motherly nature but also resented it? That I wanted her to see me as an equal, a partner, not someone to be coddled and cared for?

As we walked to the car, I made a silent vow to myself. I would find a way to bridge this gap, to be the strong, capable man I knew I could be while still accepting the love and care Emily offered. It wouldn't be easy, and it wouldn't happen overnight. But for the sake of our relationship, for the sake of this new chapter in our lives, I had to try.

As we drove home, the silence between us felt different - not uncomfortable, but full of potential. "Ready for bed?" Emily asked, stifling a yawn.

I nodded, squeezing her hand, my hopes that 'bed' meant what I thought it meant clear on my face and in my voice.  With a smile I replied, "Lead the way."

to be continued...

[angelwhisp3rs]

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 obsession

Pairing: ID!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Training the rookies was a pain until he met her. His sweetest new obsession, he wouln't stop till he was buried deep inside her.

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap (not too much! i imagined leon being 37 and the reader being 23-25, so everyone is legal and consenting! Its not his age in ID but i use it only bc of the character background), p in v, eating out, riding, breeding kink, leon is obsessed!, a small housewife kink.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ on repeat: exo - obsession

Notes: Got too excited and posted without proofreading it! If i missed anything, please let me know so i can correct it! Also, when will tumblr make a pastel pink theme for the dashboard? I hate that everything we have is either a sad/gloomy hipster or raging gothic theme.

From all his years working at the D.S.O, Leon was stressed pretty much all the time, never catching a break, too exhausted. That showed on the increasing wrinkles forming from his frowns, and the occasional white hair that appeared on top of his head. In his non-existent breaks, he had another thing on his belt: training the new agents.

At first, it was a pain in the ass, watching those morons do the same mistake over and over, it really made Leon think it was getting too easy to be a D.S.O agent. Some repeated the same mistakes over and over again, and because of it, Leon frequently lost his patience, soon getting known as a hardass. 

As time went by, he began losing hope for the future of the department, until she came through. Pretty body, voice as soothing as a canary and delicious lips that called for him. And the best thing was that she was better than all of these morons, throwing down even the experienced rookies.

Since Ada, Leon didn’t know what it was like to be this obsessed with a woman. He wanted to know her next step, have her by his side all the time, know how her soft skin feels underneath his rough fingertips. He dreamed of her, and caught himself checking her out more than he should. Chris always teased him in private, telling him “his star student is making him turn back to his twenties”. God, they had a small age gap, but thinking about it only made his cock throb. Maybe dealing with rookies made his mind turn him back to his twenties.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As their “graduation” got closer in time, all the new agents began training more, but none were like her. She came in first and left after all of them, always using the training gym by herself the most she could. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Leon offered private training, becoming a private tutor to her.

Instead of making things easy, it just caused him to become even more addicted to her - he now knew her thoughts, her quirks and her perspectives. As they spent more and more time together, it was clear that she found him attractive too - he knew he was still successful with women, after all (even if he was more dumped than anything). Leon had cemented in his mind that he needed her, and now he just needed to find a way to approach her.

She will be all his.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One of the nights, he had to spend in his office reading and filing boring documents, Leon heard a gentle knock on his door. “Come  in” he simply answered, and to his surprise - and excitement, it was his little star. She entered his office, and her usual sparkly eyes were dull, the poor thing was too tired, working herself too much.

“What happened, rookie? You look exhausted. Working too much to bring me down?” Leon said with a smirk

“Ha, you wish, sir.” Oh, how that term made his pants tighten. “I just came for help, I don’t know. I’ve been focusing on sharpening my skills for the admission test, but I don’t know…” she said unsure

“Hey, don’t tell the rest, but you’re the only one that I would bet on getting in” he reassured her, standing up and taking a seat beside her in his couch “You’re too much in your head, agent”

“I know, I just can’t turn it off…” she whined, making Leon think how she would sound if he made her cum around his cock 

That 's it. That was Leon’s chance to get his favorite student. He put a hand on her thigh, not too close to her precious cunt and said quietly to her “It’s alright, sweetheart… I can help you, if you want”

She knew where this was going, and it turned her on more than she thought. Feigning innocence, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, nodding “But… How, sir?” and looked at his lips

Leon smiled, caressing her jaw “let me fill your mind, rookie. Why don’t you sit at my desk, hm?” 

She stood up and slowly went to his desk, sitting on it and letting her head fall to the side, as if to question him “what’s next?” with her body language. Leon follows her, standing between her legs and letting his hands caress the outer side of her thighs. His face lowers to her neck, his kisses and his stubble causing a warm sensation to run through her skin. A soft gasp left her lips, her hands caressing the back of his head.

Feeling him smirk against her skin, he kept placing slow and gentle kisses, adding some nibbles on the mix “That’s what my best student needs, right? A real man to touch her”

He lays her on his desk, pushing his papers aside, pulling her hips into his - his cock adding a nice weight to her sensitive wetness. He slowly pushed her shirt up, watching her beauty for a moment “You’re perfect, baby”. As he whispered the praise, her cheeks blushed more, a soft giggle leaving her lips. He finally kissed her lips and both were hungry for each other, to quench the thirst they had been accumulating after months. 

Leon swiftly undoes her bra, not wasting any time and circling his tongue around her nipples, sucking and lightly nibbling it. Underneath him, her breath quickens, as she whines freely as he teased her. Trying to ease their ache, Leon grinds their centers together, his cock so hard that his zipper presses against his member.

Soon, he removed her pants, kissing as her skin showed - inch by inch. Again, his stubble creates goosebumps in her legs, as he worshiped her body - she deserved it, after all, he wanted to make her addicted to him and his taste. Watching her panties so drenched as they were glued to her pussy, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her bundle of nerves, causing a gentle jump on her. He kissed and licked the wet spot, as if trying to eat her up. 

“F-fuck, please take them off, sir” she whined, not even realizing that she kept the term. Leon, deciding that he wasn’t in a teasing mood, guided the clothing down, letting his pretty star all spread on his desk - his to take, to tease, to fuck, to breed. 

“Shit, baby girl, you are so wet for your teacher… you wanted me to take you, right? You wanted me to go crazy and drench my face with you. huh?” He teased her as he got on his knees, aligning his face against her cunt. She was so red, puffy and wet, not even the most delicious candy could compare to her.

His tongue tasted her at first with kitten licks, causing a loud moan to rip from her mouth. “Keep quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone coming here and seeing you spread out like a needy slut, right?” at his comment, and as if teasing her, he finally sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit, letting his index finger circle her wet entrance. Almost as if she was distressed, she cupped her mouth with her hand, rolling her eyes back at the pleasure. 

Pushing his finger forward, slowly, until he's entirely inside her, he kept eating her out with gusto, as if he was a starved man. Soon, what was one finger turned into two, her juices were flowing through his palm as he began to be more desperate for her - but he wouldn’t stop till she let him taste her entirely. “It feels good, doesn’t it, my doll? I’m the only man and only one for you, gonna make sure to keep this pussy satisfied till I die”.

His fingers and mouth worked more ferociously, pussy drunk wasn’t even close to describe how he was feeling.On the other end, she had tears in her eyes as one hand didn’t leave her mouth as the other one tugged his hair hard, making him moan against her drenched cunt. “S-sir, o-oh g-god…need to c-cum!” she pleased, looking down at him with glazed eyes.

“Do it, baby girl, give it to me” he ushered her, maintaining the pace till she finally coated his fingers, tongue and mouth with her essence. As her ‘little death’ came, she felt as if fireworks erupted inside her mind - none of her exams daring to creep up on her mind.

He praised and marked her thighs as she came down from her high. The girl pulled Leon into a passionate kiss, smiling in contentment, reaching cloud 9000. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips “Let me repay you, Leon. Wanna make you feel just as good”

“Not today, doll.” He whispered, sitting back in his chair and pulling his pants and underwear down, patting his lap “I know how to help you even further”, he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Like an excited bunny, she hopped off his desk and jumped into his lap, resuming her kisses on his mouth - casually descending into his jaw and neck, enjoying the pleased hums that he lets out. He palmed her ass and firmly grabbed it, giving some gentle smacks as she had his fun with him. To Leon, in all of his life, that was his happiest moment: having his pretty princess on his lap, all naked, hypnotized in kissing and feeling him up. 

“Go ahead, baby, let me finally empty your mind and use you” he calmly ordered her, caressing her cheeks adoringly. Soon, she positioned herself and slowly sat down on his cock, rolling her eyes back and holding into his chair behind him. 

“S-so b-big…” she moaned, her head falling into his shoulders as the girl swallowed all of him. She was so tight, wet and perfect, Leon almost came deep in her cunt just by her inserting him. His head got dizzy for a moment, his hold on her ass tightening, as he grunted and pressed his eyes closed. 

Dedicatedly, she began jumping up and down on his cock, their skin slapping as the woman looked directly into his eyes. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would attest that both had heart in their eyes. her tits jumped up and down in front of him, making his tongue and fingers play with them as the couple lost their minds in pleasure.

“Good job, doll… jumping on my cock like the good girl you are… it’s all for you, always for you” he said rambling in pleasure,  busying his mouth to tell her praises and roll her sensitive nipples on his tongue, as her cunt drenched his cock, causing a white ring at the base.

Holding tightly into the back of his chair, her hips worked even faster on him, making Leon moan more frequently in pleasure, slapping her ass, leaving behind his handprints on her pretty skin. His head falls back as he watches the goddess in front of him taking what's hers and milking his cock into her hungry pussy. He would make sure that she passed her admission check, so every end of shift he would breed her cunt, till she is finally all of his - the mother of his children, his pretty wife. But that’s a talk for later.

After some minutes pass, Leon takes over and thrusts from below, making her body turn into his own ragdoll, her moans flowing freely into his mouth. Some minutes passed, and both were on the brink of their orgasm, so close to reaching their true paradise “Will you let me fill you, doll? Make your womb so full of me, gonna make you get home with me drenching on your legs” he taunted her.

Not handling much more teasing, and his words serving as a catalyst to her peak, she nods and coats his cock with her sweet arousal, biting down on his shoulder to drown out her sounds. Her roughness and the new tight hold on his cock makes him spill into her gummy walls, emptying himself. Finally, he marked her as his. His doll, his love, his property.

Both were coming down from their highs, trying to control their breathing, letting their heartbeat slow down. He caressed her hair, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling their noses together, all smiles. “So, did I help?” he asked jokingly.

“Didn’t even know why I came here” she answers teasingly.

From now on, Leon would never be exhausted for the wrong reasons ever again.