#she’s just like ‘tell me more Dennis’

[pawpaws-paralegal]

This projected such a vivid image into my mind that I had to write it:

“I’m almost to twenty-five patches now. If I get thirty by the end of the year I get to be a level three Green Scout, so I really need to get more patches,” Bev mused, perusing the Green Scout handbook from the floor of his bedroom.

“That’s so cool, dude. I just got to level two and you’re already ahead of me,” Erlin responded from Bev’s telescope.

“I know you’ll get there soon. We’ll work together to get a ton of patches at the Jamboreen,” Bev said, still looking through the boo. As his eyes passed over one of the patches, he frowned.

“What’s that one? Scoutmaster Denny hasn’t told us about it.”

“I don’t know dude. I think Egwene has that one, but she didn’t tell me what it is.”

Beverly frowned further.

The next day at school, he ran up to Egwene brandishing his handbook. “Egwene! Hi! What’s this patch? Erlin told me you have it.”

She looked at him like he was crazy (even more crazy than usual). “Um, that’s a pride patch? For, like, when you’re gay?”

“What’s gay?” Beverly asked, innocent as can be.

Egwene usually had a quick retort in situations like this, but the kid’s honest, wide-eyed naïveté caught her completely off guard. “It’s like, when you’re a boy and like boys, or a girl and like girls, or like both boys and girls.”

“I like boys. Does that mean I get that patch?”

Egwene pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I mean, like, want to kiss. Now let me go, doofus.”

As she walked away, she could see the wheels in Bev’s head turning. She chose not to ponder the implications of that interaction.

Later on, as Bev and Erlin were walking to the green teens meeting, Bev turned to Erlin. “I know how to get the rainbow patch we saw yesterday. Egwene told me.”

“Really, dude?” Erlin replied, eyes lighting up. “How?”

“I have to kiss you and that means I’m gay and can get the patch,” Beverly replied matter-of-factly. “I think you can get the patch too then, if you also kiss me.”

Erlin stopped. “Dude. What?”

Beverly also stopped. “If we kiss, we both get patches. And I know Cran doesn’t have this one, so we’d even be ahead of her.” He paused. “Can I kiss you? You know, for the patch?”

Erlin was still standing there, stupefied. “Uh. Sure, dude? I guess?”

Beverly put his hands on his hips, surveying Erlin. Then, quickly, he stepped forward and pecked Erlin on the mouth. He then turned and ran towards Scoutmaster Denny, who was walking a little down the road, shouting, “Scoutmaster Denny! I kissed Erlin! Can I get the gay patch now?”

Later that night at dinner, Bev noticed his parents are looking at each other, then at him, then back at each other a lot. His mom whispered something to his dad, and then his dad sighed. “So, kid. I heard you got a new patch today?” he asked, in a tone that indicated he felt very awkward having this conversation.

Beverly, thankfully, did not pick up on this tone at all, and kept shoveling his green beans into his mouth. “Yeah. I kissed Erlin and got a new patch, so I’m even closer to level three!”

Beverly Sr. nearly choked. “And, uh,” he asked between coughs, “do you want to kiss boys? Other than to get the patch?”

Beverly stopped, looked pensively into his green beans, and thought for a second. He looked up, responding. “Maybe. I think yeah if it’s Erlin.” And without a second thought and without noticing his parents’ dumbfounded expressions, he finished his green beans.

The next Green Scouts meeting, Beverly noticed Erlin wearing the rainbow patch too.

i like when people give bev's sash a little pride flag patch partly because it's cute and partly because it could imply the green teens organization has a Being Gay Patch which would be really funny since bev was a patch completionist early on

[girlbossbabymac]

Very normal behavior to have when your roommate annoys you

[chilledmac]

kind of sad that no one in the gang really has a relationship with dee anymore. like i know she's forever been the laughing stock of the group but at least by the end of an episode they would come together as a group (the end of s15 for example) but i just feel that overall dee's been divided? from the gang's dynamic

[likeabxrdinflight]

I'm gonna find a way to shoehorn Mary into this good omens fic if it kills me

[medicinemane]

Also the fact he was throwing a fit over $50... like go to a different place to eat

[cumaeansibyl]

The Substance

short version: five out of five stars, I had so much fun, for God's sake read the CWs. there are so many needles in this.

further thoughts: I think the viciousness of this movie rests on Elisabeth (Demi Moore) having built her career on promoting the very same unattainable beauty standards that she finds herself in conflict with. It's no coincidence that she's not just an actress, she's a celebrity fitness instructor. Going on TV every morning to tell us all that our bodies aren't good enough. She threw her lot in whole-heartedly with the beauty merchants, she preened and profited, and then she was shocked -- shocked! -- when they inevitably, predictably turned on her.

It's also telling that once she's injected the titular Substance and generated a new, young, beautiful version of herself, what does she do? She goes right back to the same business as before. Being sexier, fitter, more desirable than anyone else. Telling everyone their bodies still aren't good enough. Well, why not? Even her own body wasn't good enough for her anymore.

Coralie Fargeat has zero fucking sympathy for her and I feel the same. Oh, is it hard now? Is it alienating and dehumanizing and humiliating? Did you never bother developing yourself as a person because you were too busy peddling feminine oppression for Dennis Quaid, of all people? Fuck you! Suffer harder! You are complicit!

I would love to know how this lands for conventionally attractive women -- I never put in a sustained effort of this kind because it was made quite clear to me from a young age that the "right" kind of beauty would not be available to me. That comes with its own pain and its own fantasies about a "perfect" version of myself, but I suspect it's a different set.

I also wonder what trans women think of it, because while it's a very cis woman story (in that Elisabeth has always been a conventionally attractive girl and woman) it's also like... about transforming into a more desirable version of yourself, which, come on.

Finally, I feel like there's some disability commentary to be had in here, though that's not a subject I'm well versed in. I did find myself thinking, from time to time, that to many people it would be very tempting to have a body with no pain, a body that always moved easily and performed all its functions with no trouble. Even if only sometimes.

[sinofwriting]

Clingy - Ollie Bearman

Words: 1,211 Summary: Ollie just wants to touch his girlfriend. Which is a bit of a problem when the public doesn’t know about your relationship. (Requested)

Masterlist | Support Me! 

Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. The sky is blue, Charles Leclerc is a future world champion, and Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. Those are facts of life as far as he is concerned.

But honestly he dares anyone to not adore her. She’s perfect. Her eyes shine, lighting up and nearly glittering. She listens attentively to everything and everyone. Her hand perfectly fits in his. She always has a sarcastic comment on hand. He has hundreds of thousands of things he loves about her, adores about her, and they all make her perfect.

And it’s hard for him to pick one thing he loves the most about her. There’s the excitement on her face that greets him every time they see each other. Or how she rubs at his earlobe when they fly together. Maybe it’s how she knows all of his favorite things, from snacks, candy, music. But really, it’s the way she lets him cling to her.

He always has to be touching her. It embarrasses everyone they know, the way he just clings to her, gluing himself to every inch of her that he can. His parents, his mom especially, pleads with him to give her space, to let her breath, but he can’t help but touch. Her best friend, every time she sees them, always groans, telling them to get a room. Dino’s face screws up in disgust, usually mock. And she just laughs, running a hand over him, leaning more into him, silently letting him know that it’s fine and that she wants him to touch.

But now, she won’t let him touch, cling, and he pouts.

“Baby,” He whines, reaching out for her, but she stays where she is. “Ollie, if you touch me now, you won’t stop.” “I know.” Her hand comes up to rub at her chest. “And you can’t do that or fans will find out.” He shakes his head. “They won’t! We’re only around Prema and they all know not to post photos of us.” She looks unsure. “No fans will be able to see us. Please let me hold you. And I’ll stop as soon as we leave this area.” She still looks unsure but opens her arms, stepping forward and he quickly meets her.

His arms wrap around her tight, hands finding their way underneath her shirt, to get some much-needed skin contact.

“This is so much better.” He breathes, eyes closing as he lets the feel of her wash over him.

Thirty minutes later when they move to go to Prema’s motorhome, he doesn’t stop touching her. His arm slung around her shoulder, keeping her close as he kept dipping his head down to brush his lips across the top of her head, no matter how difficult it makes it to walk. He’s so wrapped up in her, and her in him, they both fail to notice the person taking a picture of them.

Then later when it’s dark and all the fans and press are gone, only the teams are allowed to still be at the track, a group of them all go to where the fans sit on camping chairs and blankets, sitting on the grass somewhat close together.

“This is nice.” She murmurs. He smiles, moving a little so she can rest against him. “Isn’t it? We don’t get to really ever hang out like this. I mean at restaurants and clubs, sure. But there’s never this many of us at the track together and chilling.” She looks around at the drivers that came with.

Dino, Paul, Jak, Christian and Pepe are all throwing something at each other. Luke watches them and is clearly trying not to laugh as they keep nearly dropping whatever they are throwing. Dennis is fiddling with his phone that's connected to the speaker he brought, Arthur standing behind him also looking at the phone screen.

“It’s a good group.” He laughs, “well, I would hope so since they are all my friends.” “You have more than I thought. Track friends.” She clarifies. “When we first got together, I thought maybe you’d have two or three. But you’ve got nine, they all are amazing.” “It’s too bad Fred couldn’t be here.” “Yeah.” She agrees. “But we’ll see him next week.”

He doesn’t really think about the day. It was just a normal Thursday, it was whatever. He went over the data he needed to, did a few interviews, did some funny stuff for socials. The two things that stick out are her being there and him being able to cling to her and the hangout they had.

He wakes up on Friday to his girlfriend not beside him, but rather standing at the foot of the bed. “What happened?” “A fan took a picture of us yesterday. And Christian posted a few photos on his Instagram story last night and in the very background you can see us.” “Fuck.” He breathes. “Yeah.”

“We’ll just have to be a bit more careful today.” He finally says, sitting up. She gives him a look, “I think it might be best if I stay here for the rest of the weekend, or just stay away from the track.” “What? No!” “Baby, I love that you want to touch me all the time. I would never change that about you.” She tells him, moving onto the bed and holding his hand. “But, we are supposed to be secret. And y’know, we tried me coming to a race and now we know that we can’t do that.” He thinks about her words for all of a second before shaking his head. “No.” “Ollie.” “No.” He tells her. “I know that we were supposed to wait until like August to be public, but it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know that I’m signed with Haas for next year. And I’ve already signed the contract with them. They can’t rip it apart because of this.”

He sighs when she doesn’t say anything, carefully taking her face in between his palms. “Let me worry about what Haas might or might not do. This is on me after all for being clingy.” Her hands come up, fingers wrapping around his wrists. “I love that you're clingy.” Ollie smiles, blood rushing to his face at the quiet words. “It will be okay.” He tells her, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Promise.” “Okay.” She agrees, smiling at him. “Just promise me that you won’t put your hand in my back pocket.” His eyes widened, “You can’t ask me to do that. That’s like asking me not to kiss you.” Her nose wrinkles as he presses a kiss to it. “I can ask that. I don’t think we need pictures of us with your hand on my ass.” He pouts, hands moving from her face to her hips, giving them a squeeze. “But it’s so nice.” He whines before sighing. “Fine. But only if I can put my hand under your shirt.” “Well, I can’t deprive you of everything.” “Exactly.” He grins. She shakes her head, but there’s a smile playing on her lips as she gets off the bed, extending a hand out to him. “C’mon baby, let’s get ready for our first appearance as a couple.”

[teal-fiend]

You lean forward on the porch railing, cigarette dangling between your fingers as you survey the street. Your eyes, predatory in nature, can see every detail in the darkened trees, bushes, and mailboxes. Your friend’s night vision however, is not as competent. 

The evening's warm, the kind of night that feels thick with vice and contentment. 

Adding to that; Your belly is still a little heavy from your last feeding. It's barely a bump now—hardly noticeable—but you know it's there. Maybe someone with some discernment would be able to tell, too. Though Most people would think you’re just a bit chubby in the middle. Or bloated for a less sinister reason, than the fact that you ate someone a few days ago and you were still in the process of digesting them. 

But you imagined by tomorrow your gut would be all finished, and there’d be no indication at all that your prey was ever inside you. Feels good now, though. A lingering fullness. You haven’t felt the need to eat all day, you’re already set. 

In this period of resting and digesting, arose the perfect opportunity to socialise. Or more specifically, gossip. 

"You should have seen her," you mutter, flicking ash. "Dressed like she was going to some red carpet event, not a ‘date night’ at Denny’s - on a Tuesday, by the way. Like what the fuck is up with that?"

You pass the cig. Your friend raises an eyebrow, glancing over at you… and down at your… ex...? (does it count if you only went out once?) as they take a drag of their own. “Oh, and I’m sure you would never do anything remotely tacky. Like, I don’t know…eating your date?”

You narrow your eyes at them, "Excuse me?"

"Just saying," they reply, a savoir-faire smile slipping out. "Everyone’s got their flaws. Some people dress a bit extra on a date; others leave with a full belly."

You scoff, the irritation simmering. "What, and you're some saint? You don't even get it." You take your cigarette back and press it to your lips, inhaling sharply (before coughing grossly). "For your information, she practically begged to come back to my place - she knew what she was getting into."

“Uh-huh,” they reply, smiling. “Sure, if that’s how you want to rationalise it.”

“Go to hell.” You turn, crossing your arms, suddenly very aware of the slight curve at your middle. If your digestion hadn’t taken so long, you’d have a flat stomach by now. Maybe it was the dress. You coughed it up only yesterday. 

Was it… tacky to eat your date? You supposed, it was kind of stereotypical, for a pred. 

"Come on," they chuckle. "I mean hey, I’m just telling you how it is. You’re out here, Eating the person who agreed to go out with you. And you’re being picky about her fashion choices? Glass houses, and all that."

You glare at them, but they take your cigarette and blow out a lazy plume of smoke, thoroughly amused at your expense. You simmer in irritation, shifting your weight onto your other foot. 

The silence between you and your friend settles—until your gut cuts in with a deep, rolling gurgle, loud enough to break it.

You flush, hoping your friend doesn’t comment, but they do, laughing, “ I guess she’s not too happy with what you’ve been saying about her. Maybe she wants to give her side of the story.” 

You scowl, folding your arms tighter across your stomach. The sound goes off again, a long groan that practically echoes in the night. Your gut must be pushing your meal along now. But could it not be so loud? Now was not a good time.

"Real mature," you mutter, kicking ash at your feet, trying to ignore the heat prickling in your cheeks. "She’s not saying anything.”

"Those tummy growls seem to say otherwise," your friend teases, tilting their head down at your inflamed middle,  “She seems a little unsettled about this whole ‘formal attire’ critique… 

I mean, I’d think you would come to appreciate her taste by now… all things considered.”

You shoot them an unamused look, but your stomach gives an almost petulant glorp, as if it's agreeing with them. They just laugh, delighted, and lean back on the railing, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You give your belly a pointed pat. "She's got nothing left to say. Trust me."

But your friend just grins, eyes gleaming with humour as your belly gives another rhythmic groan. "Uh-huh. sure.”

As your friend’s laughter tapers off, you feel an odd little twinge in your stomach. At first, you ignore it, brushing it off as just a slight bit of indigestion, but the feeling only intensifies—an unease right below your ribs. You shift on your feet, putting a hand over your belly, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Your friend looks over to you, their expression switching to concern. “Are you alright there? Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset your stomach.”

You put a hand over your mouth, not knowing what to expect. With a lurch, you spit up something small and metallic, clinking as it lands in your open palm.

It’s a delicate, gold earring, with a little white gem in the centre���one of hers. You stare down at it, your face heating as you remember her fingers brushing over it just last night, laughing as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. You didn’t think much of it then.

Your friend peers over, curious. “Well, well. Looks like she left you a little souvenir.” They observe it carefully, and look down at you, “I wonder if the other one is still in there.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, pocketing the earring with a scowl on your face. You press your hand against your stomach again, to gauge whether anything else is thinking about coming back up. 

“Maybe you should remove them first next time,” they suggest, “I hear eating prey with jewellery on can give you indigestion.”

“Helpful.” you mutter through gritted teeth.

[m4rs-ex3]

anyone who says tdp "ruined rayllum" can meet me in the denny's parking lot. i will truly never believe that the writers broke up rayllum (physically i mean) just as a plot contrivance. this is not me defending my favorite show and my favorite ship; i genuinely believe this was the right move. even when i was young and dumb and first heard about an arc 2 i was like "pff rayllum isn't gonna break up," and yet in the back of my mind i was just wondering how are they gonna pull this off? like i loved them and i know they loved each other and they were sweet little babies blah blah blah but you cannot sit here and tell me that the two 15 year olds who went through a whole shitload of trauma and grief together and who were already killing themselves for each other out of hopeless devotion within 2 weeks weren't bound to crash and burn. people seem to forget that rayla didn't simply decide to leave just because; she was being tormented by her unresolved issues and could not stand to be in that place anymore, no matter how much she loved callum. of course she left because a) that's all she's ever known and b) because they couldn't last (how they were, anyway). rayla and callum had grown to rely on one another so much that they needed time to grow up on their own, and now, well...

there is no better way to test love than to put it through the ringer and see if it survives, and rayllum not only love each other just as much if not more, truly understand each other on a whole new level despite having been apart for so long, and now are back together and stronger than they've ever been. it was entirely logical and frankly inevitable for this to happen, it was a natural progression for the story, and it has made them better.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Sweet Redemption

Title: Sweet Redemption

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dennis Baker x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: You move into the neighborhood and meet Dennis Baker, a man in the middle of a divorce. Trying to keep yourself honest, you keep him at a distance. But you're drawn together after a mishap online. Will it end sweetly or on a sour note?

Warnings: ending of a marriage due to infidelity, nosy neighbors, slight social media stalking, alcohol consumption, premature ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, hyperspermia, mention of bodily fluids

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: This all started as a dream, and no it wasn’t like a Stephanie Meyer situation. More like, I dreamt of Dennis cumming in his pants from getting too excited and then 5,000+ words fell out of my fingers. So, enjoy!!

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

It’s been the talk of the neighborhood. Mrs. Baker was moving out of the house she shared with Mr. Baker, and it was quite a messy ordeal. It was the stuff of trashy romance novels, but here it was in real life. The worst part was trying to sympathize with Mr. Baker losing his marriage. Of course, this was a sad thing, and you understood that he was distraught. But, ever since last summer at the neighborhood block party, you had been falling for Mr. ‘Please, call me Dennis’ Baker. 

You had just moved in and were excited to get out and meet your new neighbors. You met most of the cul-de-sac the day you moved in. But the Bakers seemed to keep to themselves, for the most part. 

At the block party, you made baked goods for everyone to enjoy. The first person to come and try your lemon bars was Mr. Baker. He stormed out of his house a few moments prior, and you tried to keep your eyes to yourself, but you couldn’t help but watch as he charged to a cooler holding beer and pulled out a fresh bottle. 

Using his shirt to cover the cap before he twisted it, you got a sneak peek of his washboard abs and happy trail. Tossing the bottle cap back into the cooler, he took a long pull of the hoppy liquid, swiping the bottle across his forehead to cool himself down. He took off his glasses to wipe off the sweat on his brow and put them back on, surveying the cul-de-sac.

As soon as he saw you, he seemed to be transfixed. He walked over to your lawn, where you had set up a little table with your lemon bars and some fresh, ice-cold lemonade. He reached over the table, offering his large hand for a handshake, and you loved having your hand in his, even if only for a moment. His grip was firm, and his smile was wide.

“You just moved in, yeah? I’m Dennis Baker. Welcome to the neighborhood,” he bantered, his gemstone-blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Baker,” you mumbled, adding your name at the end.

“Nice to meet you. And please, call me Dennis,” he encouraged, looking down at the treats between you. “Lemon bars are my favorite.”

You lift the tray so he can take one. “Try one before Mrs. Johnson brings her grandkids over and there are none left,” you insisted, nodding to where the older woman was wrangling the kids.

He laughed, the sound tickling your eardrums. “I think you’re right, they look ravenous,” he joked, picking up one of the bars between his fingers and biting into the sweet yet tart delight. 

His eyes closed, a sinful moan escaping his lips as he finished. He sucked on his thumb and forefinger to get every last morsel of the delicacy, but a crumb stayed behind on his plump, pink lips.

You grabbed a napkin, and before you knew what you were doing, you dabbed at his lip to wipe away the offensive piece of shortbread crust. You froze, your hand gripping the napkin so close to his succulent mouth, ready to apologize for treating him like a messy child. But he saves you from your embarrassment.

“I swear, I am such a mess. My wife will tell you the same damn thing, I'm sure," he lamented, a nervous chuckle on his lips as he took the napkin from your hand and wiped his mouth.

“Dennis!” His wife stands outside their front door with her hands on her hips. Her ash blonde waves reflected the sunlight, but the fire in her eyes made you want to be swallowed up into the earth. 

“Speak of the devil, and she shall appear,” he mumbles lowly, just loud enough for you to catch what he said. “Um, thanks for the, uh, lemon bar. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you immediately feel the urge to wrap your arms around him and tell him that everything will be ok.

Instead, you smile back politely and give a little wave. You watch him until he turns around to walk back to his house, busying yourself with pouring a cup of lemonade. You gulped the drink in one go, trying to soothe your suddenly dry mouth, when Mrs. Johnson walked over.

“Alright, kids. Take one lemon bar and go sit down in the shade, ok?” One by one, the three youngsters take a napkin and a lemon bar, and you pour each a glass of lemonade. Once they have their snacks, they walk back to sit under the shade of a tree. You almost forgot Mrs. Johnson was still there until she cleared her throat. “So, I see you met Mr. Baker. Easy with that one, honey.”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, knowing damn well what she meant.

“He’s married, child. Unhappily, but still very much married,” she began, shaking her head as she watched Dennis’ retreating form enter his front door. When she turned back around, she looked you right in the eyes and started to whisper. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me. But word on the street is they’re in the middle of a divorce because of infidelity. That hussy went and got mixed up with the pool boy, and poor Dennis was the last to know, of course. And I don’t mean to lecture you on who you should be drooling over, but I can’t help wanting to make sure you know what you are getting into, baby.”

“I’m not—I wasn’t drooling. We barely even spoke,” you stuttered, shaking your head.

“Mhm, okay. Just try your best to wait for the ink to dry on that divorce decree, alright?” She patted your hand that lay on the table, then walked back to her grandchildren.

‘Well, that was fun,’ you thought to yourself. You poured yourself another lemonade, took a sip, and peeked over the top of the cup to see the blinds closing quickly in the front window of the Baker house. Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you packed up your small table to take everything back inside. 

Over the last year, you heeded Mrs. Johnson’s warning and managed to keep Dennis at arm’s length. You greeted each other when you happened to check the mailbox at the same time, exchanged recipes when you bumped into one another at the grocery store, and even commented on the other’s social media posts. 

Speaking of social media, you noticed when Dennis cropped his wife out of a few photos. You hated to admit it, but you stalked his page more than once. It became a habit of yours to scroll through his posts now and then. He usually reposted articles about creative writing workshops and local beer tastings. You watched the evolution of his life from a man divorcing his wife to a man who looked forward to the future.

One night, while enjoying a glass of wine, you open your laptop and begin scrolling through your feed. You find yourself clicking on an article about online dating and pushing past the fear of putting yourself out there. As you reach the end of the piece, you click the thumbs-up button and are shown other names of friends who also liked it. And that’s when you see it.

‘Dennis Baker also liked this.’ 

So, it looked like Dennis was ready to move on. You chew your lip, thinking a million things all at once. You click out of the article and resume scrolling for the night. 

After about a half hour, you get up to refresh your chardonnay. As you pour a healthy glass, you hear a ‘ding’ come from your laptop. Returning to the couch, you set down your glass and pick up the computer. 

You search the screen for what could have made that sound, and you spot a notification in the corner. Clicking it reveals a pop-up that says, ‘Dennis Baker liked your photo.’. Clicking it again, you are shown the photo in question. It’s a selfie you took about three weeks ago when you and a few friends went to the beach. You smile at the camera lens and show off your skimpy two-piece bathing suit as you lay on a lounger.

This man liked your thirst trap from three weeks ago, at 10:36 pm on a Thursday. It could be a fluke, but it could be that this man stalks your page as well. You don’t have the chance to ponder it in-depth because you are startled by another ‘ding’.

This time, there is an alert from the Messenger app. 

‘You have a new message from Dennis Baker.’

You waste no time clicking the notification and are brought to the web-based messenger. 

Hey, what are the chances that my liking your photo just now isn’t creepy??

Not creepy at all 😉

Just unexpected

Then again, it is a thirst trap, guess it worked lol

Oh, it definitely worked 😁

And by that, I mean you take great selfies

You looked beautiful, I mean

I am shit at this, I’m sorry

You wish you could reach through the computer screen and cradle his face in your hands and tell him that everything is fine. But instead, you gush over him calling you beautiful, and try to lighten the mood.

No apologies necessary

And thank you for the compliment 😉

What are you up to tonight?

Besides flattering me ☺️

I was just taking a break from writing

Have a deadline coming up and my mind is a mess

Saw you were online, so I figured ‘why not’

Still getting used to a quiet house

I’m sorry

You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart

That responsibility belongs to my ex-wife

But enough about her, what are you doing up so late?

Just enjoying some wine 😉

And I also don’t like the quiet all the time

Sometimes you just want a body next to you

The chardonnay gave you some liquid courage, allowing you to say what you think.

I doubt that was an invitation

But

If you wanted, I wouldn’t mind the company

You could relax and have some wine

And I could get some writing done

Totally up to you

I would love the company as well

I’m sure Mrs. Johnson and the other old bitties would talk about us though

Let them talk, doesn’t bother me one bit

Mrs. Johnson doesn’t scare me

And either way, it’s our business

Not hers

Not that we have business

I’m shutting up now

‘A man this wonderful should never have to feel like he isn’t allowed to express himself,’ you thought to yourself. Plus, you know you wouldn’t exactly mind it if you and he did have some ‘business’.

I know what you mean

You don’t have to shut up lol

But I think I might go to bed in a bit

Yeah it is getting late

Do you want to exchange numbers?

No pressure, of course

Just figured it would be easier than this

Yeah that sounds great

You exchange numbers and smile at your phone before saving his contact and returning to your online chat.

Well, good luck writing

And don’t stay up too late 😉

I’ll try my best

Good night, sweetheart 😁

Good night, Dennis

You close your laptop and gulp down the rest of your wine. Well, so much for keeping him at arm’s length.

Throughout the next week, you and Dennis send texts back and forth from morning to midnight. You find out you have similar interests in movies and humor, but you differ in music and food tastes. Both of you love horror films and John Mulaney stand-up. You enjoy any music you could dance to and trying interesting new foods, while he likes easy listening and “nothing too spicy”.

Good morning and good night texts sandwich your other messages that range from fascinating to mundane. If you were honest with yourself, there were moments where you wish the texts would get a bit spicier. You didn’t want to force him into a conversation he wasn’t ready to have. Also, you didn’t want to assume he would ever want to have a conversation like that.

You invited Dennis over on Friday night; neither of you had plans, and you were feeling a bit on the lonely side since your friends all had significant others to hang out with. You get home from work, take a shower, and change into some comfy loungewear. 

Just as you are finishing your dinner dishes, you get a text from Dennis asking if he can head over. After sending a quick text to the affirmative, you set your phone on the counter. You’re drying your wine glass from dinner when your doorbell rings. You hang up your dish towel and go to answer the door.

You check your appearance in the mirror in the foyer and are pleased with yourself. Opening the door, you are greeted by a smiling Dennis who holds his laptop case in one hand and a bottle of your favorite red blend in the other. More wine!You step aside to let him into your house and note that he looks relaxed for once.

“I picked this up for you. I remember you saying that you liked it,” he says, giving you the bottle once he is in your living room. The self-satisfied smile on his face does nothing to quell the fire between your legs.

“Thank you, Dennis,” you beam, taking the bottle in one hand while the other squeezes his bicep. You’re surprised when he flexes under your grip, biting your lip and rushing to the kitchen to open the bottle.

“No problem, sweetheart. Mind if I get set up here on the couch?” He inquires, already sitting down and taking out his laptop.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. There’s an outlet for your charger on the wall next to the—”

“I got it!” He interjects, cutting you off and plugging in his charger. He sits again and starts to boot up his laptop, looking over at you and noticing you are having trouble opening the wine. 

He walks over to you, taking the bottle and corkscrew from your hands after wordlessly offering help. Effortlessly, he pops the cork on the bottle and pours you a healthy glass. You accept the wine, take a sip, and thank him for his help.

“Next time, just say that you need help. I’m not gonna think any less of you, sweetheart,” he reassures, smiling and rubbing a hand down your arm. 

You stand there looking up at him, wishing you weren’t intimidated by this normally unassuming man. Clearing your throat, you find your voice. 

“Come on, you told me you were gonna read me some of what you’re writing,” you probe, nodding to the couch.

“That’s right, I did say that,” he snorts, running a hand through his hair and walking back to the living room. “But, remember, I’m no Shakespeare. So, don’t expect this to be—”

“Dennis?” You cut him off, your hand going to his solid shoulder.

“Yeah?” His soft, aquamarine orbs move to you.

“Shut up and show me your work,” you insist, dropping your hand from his arm so you don’t accidentally ruffle his hair. He’s so cute when he’s pathetic and down on himself, but you would never tell him that. 

That nervous laugh of his is your absolute favorite; it never disappoints. 

“Alright, um, this one I’m working on is about the new brewery that opened up on Main Street a few months ago. It’s owned by this guy who used to own another brewery with friends, but one day he just decided to open this place. Anyway, uh, I’ll start here,” he begins, adjusting his glasses on his face.

Dennis launches into a tale about a brewmaster who decides to follow his dream of being the sole owner of a brewery, leaving behind his skeptical friends and doubtful family. Against all odds, he was able to find a building that was available for purchase in his budget. Along with help from a friend who was an interior designer, he created an inviting space where people could not only come to have a drink but also learn about the brewing process.

The way he wrote about the owner’s friends and family not believing in him sounded like he knew what it was like to be doubted, to be second-guessed. You sip from your glass while Dennis reads aloud, and you study him. 

He fidgets while he speaks, fingers smoothing over the keys until he uses the trackpad to scroll down to the next paragraph. While he scrolls, his tongue pokes out of his mouth to moisten his bottom lip. Now and then, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

He ends the story with some flowery words about overcoming odds, trusting your gut, and being your own biggest motivator. Had those words come from anyone else, you wouldn’t have believed them. But because you know what Dennis has gone through and have seen with your own eyes how he has persevered, you are drawn in by the words like a moth to a flame.

“So, come on. What is your honest opinion? I promise I won’t be offended,” he sighs, expecting the worst.

You’re unsure if you are drunk from the good wine or moved by his words. But instead of trying to figure it out, you drain your glass and set it on the coffee table. You then turn to Dennis and move his laptop to the coffee table as well; all the while he furrows his brow and waits to see what you’re up to.

You get up on your knees, move Dennis' clammy hands away from nervously rubbing his thighs, and climb onto his lap. His eyes widen, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do as you invade his space. When you settle in straddling his legs, your hands go to his chest. You’re not surprised when firm pecs greet your palms or when a bulge twitches under your ass.

“Dennis, you are an amazing writer. I was hooked from the first sentence. I can tell how passionate you are about writing. Makes me wonder if you’re passionate like that in other areas,” you confess, licking your wine-stained lips and sliding your hands from his chest to rest on his shoulders.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows deeply before speaking. “Th—thank you, sweetheart. I mean, it’s just a puff piece I was working on. You should see what Nathan comes up with; he’s already a junior editor, and—”

“Dennis?” You cut him off, covering his mouth with your forefinger in a ‘shhh’ gesture. “With all due respect, I don’t care what Nathan does. I’m complimenting you, and you will accept it. When I move my finger from your lips, you will say, ‘Thank you’ and we will move on, ok?”

He nods quickly, his glasses sliding down his nose a bit. You remove your finger from his lips and adjust his glasses for him. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his hands at his sides and aching to touch you.

“Good boy,” you tease, biting your lip in a devilish grin. You notice his breathing quicken. And was that a whimper? A pink hue dusts his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and you realize he’s very much turned on. You are so mesmerized by how hot he looks that you are rendered speechless, allowing Dennis to take it the wrong way.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

This time, you cut off his words with a kiss. As soon as your mouths touch, you feel a slight flutter in your chest. It’s just a brush of lips, a fleeting second where you throw caution to the wind. But you’re convinced this is just the beginning.

Leaning back, you look into Dennis’ eyes. Searching for what, you don’t know. He lets out a breath, saying nothing while his hands remain at his sides. The moment stretches long enough that you begin to think that you fucked up.

You tremble, afraid that you may have crossed a line. “Fuck, I’m so sor—”

Now, it’s your turn to get cut off. His large hand raises to touch your cheek, his thumb on your lips. “Sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, since that day at the block party. I can’t believe that you want me, too.”

Instead of responding, your hand grips his wrist, and you open your mouth to take the tip of his thumb between your lips. You suck on his thumb sinfully, watching as his pupils dilate. Swirling your tongue around his digit, you close your eyes and savor the little noises he makes.

As you let his thumb slip from your lips, you adjust yourself in his lap. The hardening length in his pants brushes against your ass. He hisses, a mixture of pleasure and pain on his face. You gyrate your hips slowly, setting a rhythm of teasing him before you lean in to nip and kiss his neck. 

His hands go to your waist, guiding you as you grind into him. “Is this ok, sweetheart?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur between the kisses you leave on his neck. 

His grip on you tightens momentarily, and he lets out a breathy groan. You feel his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you close, effectively stopping you from moving your hips any longer. Your arms encircle him, your hand tangling in his dishwater-blonde hair. 

You sit there, enveloped in each other until you realize Dennis just came in his pants. Lifting yourself, you spot the wet spot on his jeans. In place of feeling grossed out by the offensive patch of cum, you are even more aroused than you were while you rode his lap. You just made this man cum in his pants; you couldn’t be prouder.

“Good going, Dennis. You just came in your pants like a horny teenager. Maybe you do have a bad penis,” he says to himself, just loud enough for you to hear.

You ignore his negative self-talk and remove yourself from his grip, standing up before him. He looks so small as he sits there, and all you want to do is cuddle him like a hurt puppy. But rather than cuddle, you determine it’s your turn to cum with his help.

“Dennis, get up and follow me,” you order, already walking away. You hear his soft footfalls behind you, doing as he’s told.

Once you get to your bedroom, you sit at the edge of the bed and move yourself to lie back on your pillows. You instruct him to take off his jeans and lay next to you. He takes off all of his clothing, leaving his boxer briefs on to cover his softening cock.

When he is on the bed, he silently asks for permission to undress you by tucking his fingers in your bottoms. You nod, lying on your back, and he gets to work. Pulling down your leggings, he peppers your legs with kisses. With your pants off, he can see the small damp patch in your underwear and lets out a whimper. 

“Dennis, do you want to eat my pussy?” you hint, widening your legs.

“Yes, please, can I?” he pleads, smoothing a hand up your thigh.

“Finish undressing me and then lay down so I can ride that pretty face of yours,” you direct, smiling up at him as he hovers above you.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he replies, carefully helping you undress fully. He lays down, his head supported by one of your pillows. You face away from him, throwing one leg over his torso, scooting up until your vagina is just above his lips. “Take everything you need. Use me, sweetheart.”

Lowering yourself, you are met with his hot, wet mouth. He licks a stripe between your folds, splitting you down the middle. Once he gets to your soaked entrance, he laps up what nectar has accumulated there, moaning all the while. Your hands go to his abdomen to hold yourself up, marveling at how sculpted he is.

His hands grip your ass, opening you up so he can dive in further. The sloppy sounds of him slurping up your juices only serve to make you whimper and call out his name. He eats you out like it’s his dream come true, and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

His tongue swirls around your clit then flicks up and down on the sensitive bead until you’re a moaning mess. Your eyes lose focus for a second, and when you regain sight, you notice his hardening length. You watch his cock bob as you let out a particularly breathy whine.

When he changes tactics and sucks on your clit, you keen like a cat in heat. You can feel yourself reaching the point of no return quicker than you thought possible. He moans into your sex when you lean forward and palm him through his boxer briefs. Your hand can barely fit around it, and the sight alone has you pressing yourself further into Dennis’ mouth.

He begins to pump into your hand as you rub your soaked pussy up and down his face, taking what you need just like he said you could. With the way his mouth slides across your snatch, you’re getting beard burn, and you couldn’t give two shits. You fuck yourself on his tongue, your clit stimulated by his bottom lip. 

Within a handful of minutes, you’re gushing into his mouth, and he is drinking you down until you have nothing left to give. He lazily presses kisses to your outer labia as you catch your breath. When you can’t take anymore, he helps you lie down next to him.

He wraps his arms around you, soothing a hand down your arm as you come down from your high. You come back to yourself once you feel his hard dick slightly pressing into your hip. You say nothing at first until you realize he’s canting his hips and humping into you like a horny puppy.

You reach for his erection, slipping your hand into his underwear and stroking him. The tighter your grip, the louder he groans. You turn slightly to face him and help him remove his last article of clothing. His uncut cock is heavy as it hangs between you. It looks pretty, and you bet it tastes good, too. Licking your lips, you dip your head and lick the bead of precum that leaks from his shiny red tip.

The whimper that leaves his mouth is too precious. You can tell that if you use your mouth on him, he is bound to blow sooner rather than later. You take pity on him and lay on your back again, throwing your leg over his hip. 

“Need you to fuck me, Dennis. Need you so bad,” you beg, teasing his tip while it sits just under your heat.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I don’t want you to feel pressured just because we’re naked in bed together,” he counters, courteous to a fault.

“I’m sure, Dennis. I want you. I need you,” you stress, pressing your hips into him.

“It’s okay. I’m right here, sweetheart,” he consoles, turning your head to capture your lips in a kiss. While you kiss, he pushes his tip between your folds, teasing your hole. He slips into your tight entrance, ramming forward until you take him in completely.

Letting you get used to the intrusion, he stills for a beat until you break the kiss. You nod, mutely imploring him to move. He gets the hint, pulling out until only his thick mushroom head is inside you before pushing back in. His grip around your waist tenses as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

Dragging moan after groan from you, he revels in the different noises you make. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as his dick is squeezed by your cunt with every thrust. He pecks your cheek and neck, littering your warm skin with kisses.

As he continues to cuddlefuck you, you’ve never felt safer in a lover’s arms. He periodically asks if you’re okay as if he’s afraid that any false move will have you running for the hills. You hum in approval every time, unsure if your voice can articulate how amazing he makes you feel.

“So good for me, sweetheart. You were made for me. Hmm, I can’t get enough of you. You’re perfect. Every fucking inch of you, sweetheart. Even the parts of you that I don’t know about. I needed this. Needed you, sweetheart. Do you know how beautiful you are?” He babbles as he gets lost pumping inside you.

“Oh, Dennis. Dennis, I’m gonna cum. That’s it, right there,” you ramble, feeling your walls clamp down around his shaft. Your back arches, allowing him to go impossibly deeper. You realize no one has ever made you cum like this, and you bask in the afterglow for as long as you can as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, his hips stuttering as he chases his release. “Right behind you, sweetheart. Ugh, I’m gonna cum. Where-”

“Don’t you dare fucking pull out! Wanna feel you,” you insist, your hand going to his ass to stop him from withdrawing.

“Fuck! Fuck, here it comes,” he howls, stilling his hips as his dick twitches and releases rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums so much that it starts to leak out past his thick meat. “Shit, I can’t believe I’m still cumming, sweetheart. Just keeps going. Oh, God.” You can still feel him spurting cum inside you, and you’re sure that if you weren’t on birth control, he would be impregnating you right now.

As his cock finally softens, it slips free from you along with some of his thick load. Both of you are so tired from your coupling that instead of cleaning up, you remove the comforter from the bed and climb under the sheets. Dennis is the big spoon, attaching himself to you once you press your ass into him.

You sleep soundly that night, lulled by his heartbeat against your back.

After a few months, you make it official. Dennis is yours, and you are his. Neither of you can get enough of each other, and keeping this secret has had its struggles. But together, you could get through anything. Dennis was moving up in his career as a writer, and you were proud to say you made leaps and bounds in your job.

Attending the neighborhood’s Halloween party together, you are dressed as Gomez and Morticia Adams. The way Dennis dotes on you, kissing you every chance he can get, it is the perfect costume. Plus, he looked adorable in that pin-striped suit with his hair slicked back. You were no slouch in your floor-length black long-sleeved fitted dress.

You get some looks and a few smiles as well. But when Dennis makes a bathroom run, you are approached by Mrs. Johnson. She hugs you and chuckles to herself before stepping back and patting your growing tummy. Your eyes widen, and you wonder how she could tell when Dennis didn’t even know.

“So, when can we expect the pitter-patter of little feet?” She inquires, a soft smile on her face.

“I go to the doctor on Tuesday to find out. How the hell did you know?” You challenge, crossing your arms to cover your belly.

“You thought you two were slick, sneaking back and forth to each other’s houses since the summer. Me and the girls have been watching the way you two interact. That’s the look of people in love. Plus, your tits are so big right now they look like you’re smuggling two Christmas hams in that bra,” she laughs again, rubbing your arm when you frown slightly. “Don’t worry, child. That man loves you more than he ever loved that hussy he was married to. Keep doing what you’re doing, and we’ll soon be calling you ‘Mrs. Baker’.”

Dennis appears next to you, whisking you away to the dance floor. He twirls you around and makes you laugh with his terrible dance moves and goofy faces. Nothing makes him happier than making you happy, and vice versa. You two were truly made for each other, and nothing could separate you. 

But the best part? When you are about six months pregnant, you go grocery shopping, running into Dennis's ex-wife in the bread aisle. It's priceless to see the look of shock on her face when she realizes he's the father and your new husband. Life doesn’t get much better than that. 

Dear Life,

Thanks for the lemons!

Sincerely,

The Bakers

A/N: First time writing for Dennis, and I don’t think this will be that last. Please let me know what you think!! I hope you all enjoyed this nutty little story. Sorry for the lemon puns!

**Tag List**

@cevansbaby-dove @startcarvingdarling @iwudbutnah @thezombieprostitute @thabiddie23

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Andrew Scott, Vogue: April 2024.

by Zing Tsjeng, Photos by Annie Leibovitz

Ripley, in other words, is the hero of the tale. “That’s why he fascinates so many,” says Scott. “There’s been so many iterations of him. I think it’s because people root for him.” Actors like Alain Delon and Dennis Hopper have tried the role; Matt Damon played him as an obsequious, lower-class naïf; John Malkovich, as a slimy, camp killer. Scott’s Ripley is different; a watchful loner escaping rodent-infested poverty, more at home among art than he is around people. Musician and actor Johnny Flynn plays his first victim—the monied Dickie Greenleaf—and Dakota Fanning is Dickie’s suspicious ex-girlfriend. “I find Tom quite vulnerable,” Scott tells me. “I don’t think he’s necessarily lonely, but I certainly think he’s solitary…. He seems to me by his nature that he just can’t fit in. He’s trying to survive.”

In Ripley, Zaillian extracts maximum Hitchcockian dread from every creaky footstep. But most sinister of all is Scott’s face, which exhibits a sharklike steeliness throughout. It’s a performance that exudes queasy force. Is Ripley a scammer, a psychopath, or both? “There’s so many things lurking beneath him that I’ve been very reluctant to diagnose him with anything. I never thought of him as a sociopath or murderous,” Scott declares. “It’s up to everybody else to characterize him or call him whatever they want.”

As we weave through tourists near the Tower of London, barely anybody notices Scott, save for a faint glimmer of recognition among mainly young women. He seems to draw reassurance from it. “I don’t like to think about it too much, if I’m honest,” he muses of fame. “I find it a little bit, er, frightening.” He is known but not blockbuster-recognizable, although he is in the upcoming Back in Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx. What stunts did he do? “I can’t give that away, I’m afraid, or somebody from Netflix will come and shoot me in the head.”

What’s been on Scott’s mind the most hasn’t been acting at all, in fact, but art. As a 17-year-old, he was offered his first movie role on the same day he was given a scholarship to study painting. He chose acting, but has recently been thinking about Oliver Burkeman’s philosophical self-help tract from 2021, Four Thousand Weeks, which makes the case for focusing on the five things you truly want to accomplish. “For me at the moment, it’s like, What do you want to do? What do you want to say?”

He scrolls through his phone to show me his work. There’s a watercolor of a couple arguing in a restaurant in rich reds and greens, line drawings of friends and people on the beach, and two self-portraits. “It’s a bit weird,” he acknowledges of his depiction of himself, all bulbous forehead and Pan-like tufts of hair. His brisk, nervy lines are reminiscent of Egon Schiele or Francis Bacon, who turns out to be one of his favorite painters. “Well, God, I’ll take that,” he mutters at the comparison. He would like someday to go to art school. “I don’t ever regret it,” he says of acting. “But I suppose you just get to a stage where you think, What else? That’s one of the big painful things in life for me, where you can’t quite live all the lives.” As he gets older, he feels the tug toward revisiting old working relationships, including with Waller-Bridge: “We’ve definitely got things cooking,” he smiles. “I’d love to work with her again. She’s just a singular, wonderful person.” For her part, Waller-Bridge says: “I’d love to see him do a fully unhinged slapstick comedy character. Someone who is outraged at everything, all of the time.”

As we round the pavement and the Tate Modern looms back into sight, he recalls a poster he received in 2017—a monstrously large graphic that detailed every week in a human life span. “It’s your entire life if you live to 80—you have to fill in all the bits that you’ve already lived,” he remembers in awe, “a visually terrifying gift.” What did he do with it? “I didn’t hold on to it for too long.” Easy come, easy go: We finally finish our loop around the Thames and, as Scott disappears back into the throng, anonymous just the way he likes it, it occurs to me that the actor has many lives to live yet. ■

[water-loos]

Chocolate

“We’re dressed in black from head to toe, we’ve got guns hidden under our petticoats”

dealer!eddie x witchy!ditsy!fem!reader

cw: drug mention, drug use mention, tooth rotting fluff

wc: 1,504

“Babe, just because they’re purple and you like the color does not mean that the Blazy’s are better,” Eddie groaned for the umpteenth time, looking at the older man behind the smoke shop counter for a lifeline.

“They’re the same price as the RAW cones! You’re the one who said we should expand the market and try and get some new customers. I’m telling you, all of my friends would start buying from you if they were getting a purple preroll. Even better if it’s a purple preroll of the special dreaming blend that I came up with,” You smiled brightly, long, dark nails tapping excitedly on the glass countertop. “It’s a great marketing tactic.”

“Sweetheart—“

“She’s got a point, Eddie. The ladies love it when their shit is all pretty,” The shop owner snorted.

“Thank you, Dennis!” You motioned toward the man, rings clacking on the counter as your hand came to rest on top. “A little sexist, but correct. Please, Eddie?”

When Eddie looked back at you, you could see his eyes melt. “Fine. Give me two shorts, two regulars, and two kings.”

“One pink, one purple?”

“Yes please!” You reached up to kiss your boyfriend right on the apple of his cheek, leaving behind a black cherry-colored lipstick mark. “I promise it’ll be worth it. I’ll pinky swear on it.”

“You get your cones and your blend, that’s it,” His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he looked down at you pointedly. “That’s it. I’m not having you take over my business, alright?”

“Mhm. That’s it. Just those,” You confirmed, nodding your head. “Can you ring up a few of those fun little incense cones in a separate order, Dennis? I’m running out and I need some for my altar.”

“Will do, sweetie. Just don’t give your man any more trouble, alright?”

“On my life, I will not give him any more trouble.”

——

You swore up and down that you would stop at the cones and the special blend of weed and other herbs.

But then you found a pack of navy blue mesh bags covered in tiny stars that could comfortably fit half an ounce at the craft store. In the clearance aisle. For $2.99.

“Baby, you have got to be kidding me,” Eddie sighed, watching you come in the door, platform boots stomping excitedly as you bounded into the living room of your shared trailer, the bags clutched in your hands. “Don’t tell me those are what I think they are.”

“They are that exactly! Aren’t they cute? Look,” You swung yourself into his lap, legs hanging over the arm of the rocker he had been lounging in. His arm instinctively wrapped around you and rested on your hip, making sure you wouldn’t fall off. “They can fit at least half an ounce and still have room. Not to mention the amount of prerolls you can fit! And they tie super nicely so you can keep everything together!”

His head buried into the crook of your neck, his dramatic groaning rumbling against your skin. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Is that a yes? Please tell me that’s a yes,” You immediately get excited, dropping the bags into your lap and looping your arms around his drooping shoulders. “Have I told you I love you this afternoon? If not, I love you. I love you more than the sky and the sea and the moon and the stars—“

“Yes, angel, you’ve told me you love me more than I can count today,” He laughed sweetly, lifting his head to look at your expression. You could tell he was trying so hard to stand his ground, but the smile on his lips gave him away. “I can’t let you use the bags, though. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

“What, your reputation among college kids who invite you to every function even though you graduated two years early?” You joke, nodding toward his high school and college diplomas, which were framed above your fireplace. “What a thing to ruin!”

“Are you really going to bring up me graduating every chance you get?”

“Absolutely,” You kissed him sweetly, one hand smoothing over his hair. “My smart boy.”

“Okay, now you’re just buttering me up, you sap,” He ducked away, watching you cackle with a grin on his face. “How about we compromise?”

“A compromise?”

“Yes. You can make your fancy little prerolls with your mix and put them in your pretty little bags,” Your eyes widened, surprised that he was letting you do it that easily. “But, nothing else. No edibles, no flower, and none of the raw cones I’m still working through, okay?”

“I can work with that! It’s like a little side business! A partnership!”

“Yep. A partnership,” He tapped your hip and sat up slightly. “Let’s go get some stuff ready for later, alright? I’ve got to drop off to those monthly guys up in Chicago tonight.”

“Let me text some people and see if they want anything,” You got up off his lap, handing the bags off to him as he rose. “Can you put these at my seat while I go grab us some drinks?”

Eddie sighed heavily, rolling his eyes playfully. “Yes, sweetheart.”

“I love you, just a reminder!” You called as you left the room, a shit-eating grin on your face.

——

You ended up finding a few friends from college who lived in the city and wanted to try the new “dream bundles” as you called them. Each bundle was packaged with care and love, and Eddie watched endearingly as you meticulously packed each and every cone, lined them up in the bags, and even included some candies from your personal stash. The bags looked almost comical next to the brown bags that your boyfriend’s regular orders were in, but as you piled into his van, both his and your bags piled into one of your many tote bags, they looked perfect together.

He held your hand the whole two-hour drive into the city, a mixture of alternative rock and metal blaring through the speakers as you both sang along at the top of your lungs, a smile permanently etched into your lips. Eddie even let you be the one to run the bags up to each of his clients, watching with a lovesick smile and your favorite puppy dog eyes as each and every one of them smiled, happy to see you and your bubbly personality.

You practically skipped away from the final house of the night, grinning from ear to ear. You had sweet-talked the customer, a 6’3 and honestly terrifying security guard, into buying a couple of your special bundles for his girlfriend, who had waved at you from behind the open door.

With your empty tote bag swinging from your hand and your front pockets full of cash, you pranced up to Eddie, who leaned against the side of his van with a grin that could stop hearts on his face. Except, he was looking at you, who was the picture of joy.

“D’you see? I got him to buy three bundles! I told you they’d be a big seller,” You smiled brightly, chains jingling as you rocked back and forth on your heels. “He got them for his new girlfriend and he said he’d let you know how she likes them.”

“That’s great sweetheart,” He reached forward to pull you close and kiss your cheek. He watched you pull the big bills of cash out of your pocket, folded perfectly and all in the same direction and put it into his pocket instead. “We make a good team.”

“The best! You’ve gotta let me keep doing this, babe,” You pull your tote bag over your shoulder and loop your hands around his neck, stepping on the tiptoes of your boots. “They love me. And it’s so fun!”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “What kind of influence am I, huh? Getting you to enjoy this whole thing?”

“The worst ever,” You hum, smiling at his almost drunk expression as he looked at you. “I think my parents would have a conniption if they knew what I was out doing right now.”

“Oh, what will I ever do if your parents find out that I’ve corrupted their precious angel?” He laid the sarcasm on thick, reveling at the giggle you let out as he smushed a kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. He pulled back after, pecked a quick kiss to your lips, and tapped your hip with the hand that held his car keys. “C’mon. Let’s get home and pack a bowl with some of that mix you’ve been selling. I wanna see what it’s all about.”

“Really?”

He stepped back and opened the passenger side door for you. “Really really.”

“Yes!” You celebrated, grabbing his face and smacking a kiss to his lips before you leaned down into your seat. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.”

[shelbgrey]

Hi! Could I request some Alex Karev smut? If possible? :)

Dr. Feelgood(Alex Karev)

Paring: Alex Karev x Fem!Reader

Summary: after being forced to plan a 'prom' at the hospital for Webber's niece, Alex and the reader decided to go together. They had nothing better to do, but their desire can't go unnoticed.

Warrings: SMUT, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, pull-out method, sorta public sex?

MasterList ML2

“Everyone goes to the prom!” Webber shouts. “Everybody!”

And that's when we become party planners instead of surgeons, well we became that after the LVAD wire cutting incident, but that's not the point.

And when you have someone like me who never went to prom and someone like Alex who couldn't give a shit to help plane, nothing could get done quick enough.

Camille's friends just wouldn't shut up. Alex groaned and put his head on the table. The girls continued to ramble about colors and lights and Alex groaned louder like they were stabbing him.

“we could go all white” one the girls said, but then stopped when Alex made more noise of anguish.

“are you having a Seizure?” I asked, more annoyed with his groaning than the teenagers yapping.

“Will it get me out of here?” Alex asked, setting up. “Fine. Let's go with seizure”

Then after a while George got Bailey to help. She got every decoration down to a Tee and got everything ordered. I just didn't want to deal with this lovey-dovey crap. I just broke up with Derek Shepherd because I found out he was actually married, everything was just getting to me. Even a dying guy like Denny proposed to Izzie.

I could tell Alex had had enough of everything too. He blamed Izzie for our intern group's suspension and put on decoration duty, he was just pissed. I couldn't blame him, others might but I always saw a side of him no one else was. To be honest he was my person as Meredith would say… even if he looks ready to punch someone.

I let go of an unclosed balloon full of helium, making it fly towards Alex as it deflates. “Are you serious?!” He grabs the balloon. He was very agitated.

“Calm down, I'm just messing with ya” I told Alex.

“No! Don’t mess with me, have you seen these girls? These decorations! And now this!?”

I shrugged, already accepting our fate. I looked around as the hospital slowly turned into some prom nightmare. My high school prom was hell… If I had one, guy asked me and I ever really got the full experience.

“I really don’t want to be here. I can’t believe Webber forced us to do this because LVAD shit” Alex complained.

“No one wants to do this, but it's for the chief's niece” I said gently.

“Yeah, I know, but he forced the whole hospital staff to attend is stupid as hell”

I shrugged. I didn't really care about most things these last few months because of the Derek and Addison crap. I don't know what possessed me but it turned towards Alex. “you wanna go together tonight? need to be around friends” I don't know how I felt about Derek, but I wasn't ready to see him at his damn prom with Addison.

Alex turned to me, surprised. Like he hadn't expected me to say that. He thought about it for a moment and shrugged “Sure, why not?” he said with a smirk.

“Great,” I smiled.

--------(3rd pov)--------

The prom went off without a hitch. Y/n looked up at all the lights and decorations as her and Alex slowly swayed to the music.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is nice” Alex said softly as his hands stayed on her hips, moving to the music. He was enjoying every second of this, all because of her. And he felt like he was getting back at Derek for hurting her. He felt good just being with her, seeing her in a beautiful dress instead of those blue scrubs. Even the decorations weren't pissing him off anymore, just being there with her ment everything.

“Yeah…” I looked away from Alex to look at everything around us, all the lights and colors.

“what's up?” Alex asked, she looked back at him with a soft smile. “nothing… I Just never went to prom before”

“Really?” he was surprised, in his eyes y/n was beautiful and a pretty smart doctor. He assumed she probably had a ton of guys wanting her. And he thought Derek was a complete idiot for losing her.

She shook her head. “no one really wanted to ask me…”

“I would have…” He continued to sway to the music, not breaking eye contact with her. Alex looks into her eyes. She had the prettiest hazel eyes he ever saw and the more he looked the more he could see himself falling for her. He couldn’t help but keep looking, they were like pools of honey. It was a nice way to get his mind off of work and the LVAD wire cutting incident. His eyes were locked into hers. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty.

“I was one of those nerdy girls no guy was interested in…” she said softly.

He put his hand on her cheek. She was just so beautiful, he had never thought about her like this before. And now the whole idea of her seemed so new to him and it was making him like her more. “That’s ridiculous. Look how beautiful you are. I don’t know why guys did not ask you out… I don't know why shepherd was stupid enough to lose you”

Her heart pounded against her chest when he said that. She hid her burning cheeks and rested her head on his shoulder as he moved to the music. “I got bumped up a couple of grades because I was smart… I played D&D… I was the weird kid because I didn't want to go out and get drunk”

Alex couldn't believe what he was hearing. He playfully chuckles as they slowly danced around oh... “oh, you were one of those geeks,” he said playfully.

Y/n scoffed playfully, resting her head on his shoulder gently “playing D&D isn't the geekiest thing in the world…”

Alex couldn't help but smile at her reaction. He rubbed the small of her back as they danced. “I was on the wrestling team… Who am I to judge”

“Wow, a wrestler” she laughed softly and playfully into his shoulder. “yeah... I was in marching band, school newspaper... All that nerdy stuff”

“Marching band huh?” he teased her, he lifted their arms up and he slowly spun her around before bringing her back to his chest. “you were a band geek, who knew”

“who knew you could dance” she teased back.

He smirked at her, holding her hand and continued to dance with her with zero embarrassment. “Shut up” he said playfully.

“ya know… If we went to the same high school, I would have been proud to go to prom with you.” he had a serious look on his face now. He was not messing around anymore. His friends would have made fun of him but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t care.

Her heart fluttered as she smiled, she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the hair at the neap of his neck. “I would have been proud to go out with you too... All of my geeky friends would have been terrified of you though” she joked softly as we swayed to the music

He smiled softly and wrapped an arm around her waist. The other hand is still resting on her lower back. He leaned in to nuzzle her neck slightly. “I was always the scary one.” he whispered. “But you’re not afraid of me now are you?”

She ran her fingers through his hair as he nuzzled her neck. “I never was”

He smiled against her skin and kissed it gently. “Good.” he whispered before pulling back to look at her. His eyes searching hers for something, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what though. There was just something about her that he hadn't seen before, it drew him in and made him want more.

Y/n smiled as she stared into his chocolate brown eyes. Deep down she always knew there was more to him than him just being a surgery hungry asshole intern that slept around with nurses.

“Would you believe me if I said I always had a thing for nerds like you?” he said in a playful tone, he wasn’t joking. He genuinely liked her intelligence. She was beautiful and smart and that's what Alex liked in a woman.

“I don't know,” she said in a playful tone. Alex lifted her arm up and gently spun her around then pulled her back to his chest.

He leaned in to nibble on her earlobe softly, they both continued to sway to the music so their conversation didn't look suspicious. “I’m serious.” he whispered before trailing kisses down her neck. He could feel her pulse racing under his lips.

Alex smirked against her blushing skin. He loved how responsive she was to him. He lifted his head slightly to look at her once more. His eyes searching hers. "Do you want me to stop?”

She looked him in the eyes and shook her head. “N-no…” she said softly.

Alex's smirk grew as he felt her hesitation turn into desire. He leaned in once more, his lips pressing against hers with a soft yet hungry kiss, making her heart pounded against her chest . His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss as her hand held his jaw.

The loud music masked the small moan that slipped past her lips as Alex's hands slid down her back, gripping her ass. Alex pulled her even closer, his tongue slipped into her mouth, dancing with hers in a heated duel. He could taste the sweetness of her lips and it only made him want more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, they were barley dancing now and the 'prom' was forgotten.

Alex groaned into the kiss, loving how responsive she was. He felt his blood rushing through his veins, making him hard against her body. He pressed her closer to him, rolling his hips in a small motion, making a small moan get caught in her throat. Y/n slowly pulled away from the kiss and rested her forehead against his, trying to catch her breath.

Alex closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he felt her against him. He wanted her so badly but he knew they couldn't do this here. “We should go somewhere else,” he murmured against her lips before leaning in to steal another kiss.

“Let's get outta here,” she said quietly.

Alex's hands never left her waist as he led her through the crowd, making their way towards an empty examination room. Once inside, he locked the door and pushed her against it, forcing a moan to escape past her. She tugged on his hair as his lips crashed into hers again, his tongue slipping past her lips as he devoured her mouth.

Alex's hands roamed up her thighs, hitching her dress higher. He could feel how wet she already was and it only made him harder. He slid his hand between their bodies, rubbing against her swollen clit through her underwear. “Fuck,”

“Alex” she moaned, her head falling back against the wall as his fingers danced around her most sensitive area.

Alex growled low in his throat, slipping a finger under the elastic of her panties to slowly push them down her thighs as he fell to his knees in front of her. He replaced his finger with his tongue, lapping at her folds and tasting her sweet nectar. She let out another moan, tugging at his hair and arching her hips off the wall.

Alex hummed against her folds, loving the way she responded to his touch. He suckled on her clit, flicking his tongue over it as he circled his finger around her entrance. He groaned when he felt how wet and swollen she was for him.

Her legs got wobbly and she arched her hips, moaning. “A-Alex…”

Alex kept sucking and flicking her clit, driving her wild with his expert tongue. He hummed against her, loving the way she squirmed underneath him. He placed his hand on her thighs, squeezing gently. "Shh...I got you, baby.”

Y/n’s heart pounded against her chest as felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. “A-Alex, I'm c-close” she moaned as her head fell back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut.

Alex wanted her to come undone for him. He lifted up her leg and set It on his shoulder and sucked harder on her clit, swirling his tongue around it as he thrust his finger deeper into her wet heat. “Come for me,” He growled, not relenting until she did.

“Alex!” she moaned louder, tugging at his hair as she came undone on his tongue.

Alex hummed around her clit, enjoying the sweet taste of her as she came undone. He kept sucking and flicking until he felt her muscles start to relax. “Fuck, Angel” he groaned, pulling away slowly and kissing his way up her body as her fingers trailed down his body.

Alex kissed her deeply, she could taste herself on his lips. He pulled her closer, grinding against her as he grew harder. “I need you,” he whispered against her mouth. He quickly pulled the zipper of her dress down, making it pool to their feet. He lifted her up, pushing her onto the examination table.

“Take me” she grabbed his tie, pulling him between her legs. He slammed his lips against hers, the kiss was messy and rushed as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.

Alex looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense as he quickly unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. He positioned himself at her entrance and slid in slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered against her lips before thrusting deeper.

She moaned, arching her hips against his as the pain quickly turned into pleasure. “oh, fuck”

Alex groaned, feeling her walls clenching around him. He started to move faster, his hips slapping against hers as he took her hard and fast. “That's it,” he growled, nipping at her neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Shemoaned against his neck, digging her nails into his back. “A-Alex!” she wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him deeper inside her.

Alex cried out, feeling her tighten around him. He lost himself in the sensation, thrusting harder and faster as they became one. His hips slapped against hers in a rhythmic cadence that echoed through the room. “God, you're so fucking tight,”

She tugged at his hair. “Alex, I'm gonna cum!” she cried out desperately and tugged at his hair.

Alex groaned, feeling her inner walls pulsing around him. He slammed into her one last time, she cried out and bit his shoulder. He slammed into her one last time before pulling out, shooting his hot seed across her stomach and chest. “Fuck,” he panted.

Alex collapsed on top of her, their bodies sticky with sweat and each other's fluids. He nuzzled into her neck, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “That was... intense,” he murmured with a chuckle.

“A-amazing” she moaned breathlessly.

Alex grinned against her skin before slowly pulling out of her. He reached down and gently wiped some of his seed off her stomach with his tie, chuckling softly. “You're a mess,” he teased as he knelt down and picked up her jumbled up dress.

“It's your fault” she teased as Alex helped her step into her dress.

Alex laughed softly, his eyes trailing down her curves as he zipped the dress back up for her. “I suppose it is,” he agreed as he placed a kiss on her neck. “But I'd do it again in a heartbeat.” He smirked, pulling his shirt back over his shoulder, before he buttoned it back up he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Alex pulled back and smiled back at her, his gaze softening as he studied her face. “You're beautiful,” he murmured before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. He savored the taste of her on his tongue, wishing this moment could last forever.

She pulled away, smirking. “who knew Alex Karev was such a softie”

He let out an airy chuckle. “only for you” he smirked, kissing her on the nose.

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 107... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

OH MY GOODNESS! 😱 THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER, DUDE!!! 😵

For what seemed like just a fun little chapter, learned quite a bit of things and possibly a hint to a major reveal...!! 😲 So let's talk about it, shall we...? 😁

In today's chapter, we are back with the Forgers this time around, but this time... WE AT THE ANNUAL SHEEP FESTIVAL!!! 🐑😆

But in actuality, Twilight only brought the family here because the Lady Patriots Society were the ones to put this festival together, which means... Plan C, a.k.a. The Mommy Friendship Scheme is what Twilight is hoping to progress...!! 👌😌 But of course, that only makes Anya think about THIS:

ANYA, YOU ABSOLUTE NUTTY GIRL!!! 🤣🤣🤣

Never change Anya, never change...!! 👌😌

After Anya's tomfoolery, we see that Damian, Ewen and Emile are with Jeeves and the other butlers are also at the festival...!! 😄:

But they aren't the only ones to show up at this festival of sheeps... 😁 In fact, we get to see the Blackbells (now including Becky's mom 😆), the Watkins (Bill's dad is officially in the manga now 😎) and the Gloomans (though, we've already seen George's dad 😅); and of course, Twilight goes "Straight To Work" as Anya's puts it...!! 👌😌

Not to mention, we also learn the names of Becky's, Bill's and George's dads' names!! 😆 (Byron Blackbell, Wesley Watkins, and Dennis Glooman to be exact...!! 😁)

After that, some people start recognizing Anya, Damian and Becky (and most likely Bill as well) for their brave and heroic actions all the way back in the Hijacking arc...!! 😄

While Twilight on the other hand is loosing his mind over how much information he could possibly get these people as well...!! 🕵 (Oh Twilight... Always thinking of his spy work... 👌😌)

Soon after that, Damian challenges Anya to a game of ring toss and says that if she loses, he wants her to leave the festival. And so, the game was on...!! 😄

I really love this image of the Eden kids just having fun, it truly warms my heart...! 🤗 (even if Damian got hit in the face thanks to Anya...! 😌)

While the kids are still competing with each other, Jeeves starts talking about his hopes for the children...:

Then, we see Twilight look towards Anya and say this in his head...:

This definitely makes me think that Twilight is feeling more and more guilty for using Anya for his mission... 😔

After that, Damian wins the ring toss and tells Anya that she has leave now...! Buuut, she starts crying and Damian changes his mind about making her leave, which makes Anya (and Twilight) happy...!! 😄 Then, Becky suggests that her and Anya should go to this hall of clairvoyants, where Becky mentions that the clairvoyants could probably tell how compatible someone is with their lover, which makes Damian not want to go in there at all...!! 😆 So Becky, Anya, Yor and Mathra head in to get there fortune read, while everyone goes elsewhere (including Twilight who is going drinking with the boys 😎👍).

Once inside, there's a huge line for someone named Magical 🌟 Crowley, which if I remember correctly, Crowley is the same last name as that triangle shaped haired kid that got the highest score on classical language while Anya got the second highest score... Hmmm, interesting... 🤔 Anyway, instead of going to Crowley's booth (which was charging up the wazoo), Anya suggests that they should just go see LunaLuna 🌙 Selena, but Becky doesn't like that she doesn't charge and isn't accurate, so she and Martha go to the middle tier while Anya and Yor go see Selena...! When Anya and Yor get there, no one is there at first, but then Selena wobbles out and almost falls over when Yor catches her, and...:

IT'S MOTHER F---ING MELINDA DESMOND!!! 😵😵😵😵😵😵😵😵

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?! CAN SHE ACTUALLY SHE INTO THE FUTURE?!?! SO MANY DAMN QUESTIONS...!!! 😵😵😵

And that was the end of the chapter... Endo, WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?!?! 😩 Before it was revealed that the fortune teller was Melinda, I already had a sneaking suspicion that LunaLuna 🌙 Selena was gonna be Melinda, but now I wonder if she's actually got psychic abilities to see into the future or not...! 😲 The Magical 🌟 Crowley has also got my attention, is this person related to Arnold Crowley (I believe that's his name) or is it Arnold Crowley himself...? 🤔

Either way, the next chapter is gonna be a very interesting one, folks!! 👌😎 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! LATER!! 👋😄

[d4yl1ghts]

i’m the one with an irregular heartbeat

denny duquette x grey, pregnant, fem!reader

summary: you worry about the effects of carrying a patient’s baby but denny reassures you

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion

-

You forced the eggs that your sister, Meredith, had cooked down your throat. She wasn’t the best cook. You sighed to yourself, you’d found yourself feeling nauseous lately.

Suddenly you felt your eggs coming back up and ran to the closest bathroom. Meredith heard you sprint out and hastily followed you. “You okay?”, she asked as she held your hair back whilst you retched over the toilet. “Yeah. It’s probably just food poisoning from those eggs.”, you joked. Meredith glared at you. “I am not a bad cook!”, she defended. “Then why am I throwing up after I ate them?”, you questioned teasingly. “I don’t know, there could be many causes for that. You should know that as a doctor, Y/N.”, she said as she glanced at you. “Like pregnancy, for example.”, she added as she watched you scrunch your eyebrows.

“Please… as if I’m pregnant.”, you chuckled quietly to yourself. Meredith just gave you a pointed look. “Have you had sex recently?”, she asked. “Right, whatever, I have to go to work.”, you ignored her questioning and rolled your eyes. She walked after you. “I’ll take you.”, she offered. You knew she was going to use this as a chance to find out more information but you didn’t mind having a ride and so you accepted.

As Meredith finally parked the car, you picked up your pace to avoid more of her annoying questions that she had been asking you on the way here. Bailey had assigned you to rounds yet your current priority was finding the pregnancy tests.

You gently closed the door behind you as you entered a supply closet. You glanced around the shelves, hoping for some indication of where one could be. There had to be some in a hospital surely. You were rifling through all the boxes you could find when you heard someone open the door.

“Oh, um, hey Y/N.”, Alex mumbled. “Oh, hi.”, you replied awkwardly. “Why are you in here? Aren’t you meant to be doing rounds?”, Alex asked as he rustled around the boxes. “Yeah. I’m just here… what are you doing here?”, you decided to redirect the conversation. “I’m looking for some supplies for a patient. So, what are you actually looking for because there’s a bunch of boxes all over the place in here?”, he questioned as he looked around the messy closet. “Okay, fine. I’m looking for a pregnancy test. Do you know where I can find one? Also, please don’t tell anyone!”, you said in one breath.

“Oh.”, Alex muttered. “Yeah, I don’t think they’re in here. Do you want me to go and fetch you one? Then they won’t know who it’s for.”, he kindly responded. “That would be amazing. Thank you, Alex.”, you smiled at him softly.

Five minutes later, Alex returned with three pregnancy tests. “Thank you so much!”, you hugged him. “How can I repay you?”, you asked. “Do all my charts for the next two weeks.”, he stated as he smirked at you. “Fine.”, you rolled your eyes with annoyance. “You can’t tell anyone about this though.”, you added. “I promise I won’t.”, he said genuinely.

“Do you want me to like wait with you whilst you do it or-“, he asked quietly as he walked to the bathroom with you. “If that’s okay with you. You have work to do, do you not though?”, you reciprocated. “Yeah but it’s not much. Everyone else is busy doing important things and you look like you need someone to be here with you.”, he replied honestly and sweetly. Alex had a soft spot for you. He was like a brother that you never had. He acted like he was hard-core but really he was a teddy bear beneath the disguise.

You quickly went into the toilet stall and took all of the tests and you had snuck them back out into the supply closet as you wanted Alex to look at it for you but he couldn’t really go into the toilets or do it in the middle of the corridor. “The timer is up.”, Alex said to you. “Can you look?”, you quietly spoke. “Sure.”

Alex rapidly flipped them all over and you could faintly see the plus sign on them all. “Shit.”, you muttered to yourself. You abruptly broke down into tears and Alex pulled you into him. “You’ll be okay.”, he said into your hair. His pager went off. “911.”, he said out loud. “Sorry, Y/N. They need me in the pit. Will you be okay up here?”, he glanced at you with concern. “Yeah, go.”, you said and he looked at you sadly before going.

You knew that Denny Duquette was the father. You hadn’t slept with anyone else recently. You couldn’t believe this. Ellis Grey’s daughter was pregnant with a patient’s baby. You wandered up to Denny’s room, you couldn’t keep this a secret, you’d die from guilt. As you made your way up in the elevator, Meredith just so happened to walk in. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since this morning.”, she asked. “I’m fine.”, you replied as you avoided eye contact. She sighed as she looked at you. You finally looked her in the eyes. “I’m pregnant.”, you said as tears blurred your vision.

Fortunately, it was only the two of you in the elevator. She took you into her arms carefully. You and Mer had always been especially close due to your little age gap. Now you were full on sobbing as you glanced at her regretfully. “The father is a patient, Mer!”, you whispered angrily. She stared at you. “Who?”, she asked cautiously. “Denny.”, you simply stated. “This is so bad, Mer. Imagine what people will say when they find out that Ellis Grey’s daughter is pregnant with a patient’s child.”, you added as more tears streamed down your cheeks.

“It will be okay, Y/N. You don’t have to keep it nor do you have to make that choice now.”, she calmed you as she held you in her arms. “I do think you should tell Denny though. He deserves to know. I’m sure he’ll be happy.”, she stated. You huffed as the elevator came to a halt at the level Denny was staying at. “See you.”, you said as you sniffled lightly. She gently smiled at you.

You purposely walked slower than usual to save yourself some time to think of how to announce this. You were shocked, you and Denny had only had sex once. Before long, you had arrived outside of his room. He saw you and waved you in and smirked at you charmingly as he pulled you closer to him. He noticed your nervousness as you okayed with your fingers. “What’s wrong, baby?”, he questioned as he took your hands and pulled you against his chest where he could feel your pounding heart. “You know that I’m the one with an irregular heartbeat, right?”, he said playfully, hoping to calm you down. You closed the blinds and the door. “Denny… I’m pregnant.”, you blurted out.

“Really?”, he asked excitedly. “Yeah.”, you answered. “Is that a good or bad thing?”, he looked at you tenderly. “I’m not sure yet.”, you said. “Okay.”, he replied. “I don’t mind what you choose, Y/N. You can keep it or not. I don’t mind as long as I have you.”, he smiled cheekily at you as he kissed your lips lovingly.

[iphyslitterator]

Last-ditch attempt to have it "make sense" for Tommy to end up in the cockpit, with apologies to the aviation realists:

There's a malfunction in the plane that requires delivering repair parts of some sort, no way around it, they have to get a package to Athena.

They call the Air Force, as one does, to coordinate this delivery via helicopter, and Air Force guy-in-charge is like, "Hey, I hear you've got a pilot in L.A. who landed a bird on a capsized cruise ship in a hurricane, can I have him."

Tommy and Air Force guy meet up, and Air Force guy says, "Kinard!!! 😍" and Tommy says, "Uh, hello, sir, still not re-enlisting."

Turns out Air Force guy was dazzled by Tommy's aerial prowess and has been diligently trying to recruit him for months, Tommy just has this effect on older men sometimes.

Tommy warily agrees to fly the helicopter and is introduced to his Air Force co-pilot, who will be lowering the package into the plane.

As they're walking to the helicopter, Tommy awkwardly apologizes to co-pilot for taking her spot, and she rolls her eyes and says, "Not your fault [Air Force guy] is obsessed with you," so they're good.

OKAY, we got Tommy in the air, and he's flying the helicopter so good, he's very attractive, and co-pilot's lowering the package and it gets STUCK on the outside of the plane.

Athena can't reach it from the cockpit. They can't free it from the helicopter. There's not time to get anyone else up there. And THAT'S why Tommy tells his co-pilot to take the controls because he's going to go down and get it.

Co-pilot is like, "Are you out of your mind???" (yes), but he lays out their options and says, "It's you or me," and she very reasonably is like fuck that, I am not rappelling out of a helicopter into a crashing jet.

Tommy's already in midair when they tell air traffic control etc. what they're doing, and Tommy eventually has to politely say over the radio, "LAX, I need to concentrate right now, please shut the fuck up."

If Tommy is a better pilot than Air Force lady, it is not by much, and there's a breathtaking action sequence where they're both extremely competent, and Tommy retrieves the package and makes it into the cockpit.

Athena and whoever's been assisting her handle the repairs while Tommy recovers from the retroactive debilitating terror.

Meanwhile, Maddie's been on the radio at Dispatch all this time, hand over mouth panicking because her brother's boyfriend is, you know, rappelling out of a helicopter into a crashing jet.

So once she has a moment, Maddie, with deceptive calm, says over the radio, "Firefighter Kinard, this is Maddie Han with Dispatch, would you like me to inform emergency services that you are on the plane?" and Tommy is like ohhhhh shit.

Should he tell Evan? Is it worse if he knows? Or if he doesn't know? Will he be mad??? Athena is uninterested in this.

Eventually Tommy says, "Uh, Dispatch, what's your recommendation?" and Maddie says, "I'm gonna tell him," and Tommy says weakly, "Copy that."

The next time they have to take the plane off autopilot, Tommy - who does not fly giant commercial jets - looks to Athena and says, "Technically you have more experience," and she says, "OH no, it's YOUR turn," because while she has been doing an exceptional job, flying a giant malfunctioning death trap sucks, thanks. Also frees her up to go talk to Dennis Jenkins or the other passengers or something.

Air traffic control talks Tommy through it, and his general aviation knowledge/experience comes in handy.

As they're starting their final approach, Maddie comes back on the radio and says, "Firefighter Kinard, I have a message from LAFD. They just wanted to tell you both good luck; we're all counting on you." (Airplane! reference) (Tommy made Buck watch it.) (Buck made Maddie write down the exact wording and she has no idea why.)

Tommy starts laughing hysterically and maybe sort of realizes he's in love with his boyfriend :)

Tommy responds, "Roger, Roger" (Airplane! reference) (doubles as a Star Wars prequels reference), and when this is relayed to Buck, Buck maybe sort of realizes he's in love with his boyfriend :)

Breathtaking action sequence, they land the plane, Buck flings himself into Tommy's arms for a showstopping, foot-popping movie kiss, and then they go home and fuck nasty, the end.