#sometimes i look at politics and i go can we all just chill as the default. i am willing to work to get to a place where we can chill.

[syn4k]

if there is one thing i wish more people understood it is the fact that just because i do not understand something does not mean that i am automatically opposed to it. there are many things that i do not understand for example alloromanticism, the workings and practices of many organized religions, and the existence of white chocolate but that doesn't mean i want to scrub their existence from this earth. i love knowing and comprehending things but theres also some things that i simply cannot understand right now for some reason or another and thats okay. humans are weird, varied, and complex! i'm not the judge jury and executioner of the entire universe and i am very glad i'm not! and anyways imagine how fucking boring knowing everything would be

[heroesneedalancer]

Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:

People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?

Comment by u/Meduselde:

Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.

They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.

And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.

EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!

EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.

Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Don't give up. We will get through this.

[bunnys-kisses]

hi can I please make an order of crème caramel, berry trifle, mango sorbet and a spicy upside down cake with a side of lemon water served by Max Verstappen please? Sorry it's a bit long tho...

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu, i'd love to hear your order! and thank you to everyone who submitted orders! i am working through them!!

crème caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?" ) + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + mango sorbet ("you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?") + spicy upside down cake ( "let's play a game: don't get caught.") + lemon water (university/college au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, university au, bully!max, mean!max, semi-public sex, library sex, fwb gone horrible, dirty talk/degrading language, obsessive!max, oral sex (max receives), choking/deep throating

"where are you going, schat?" max loomed over you like a heavy cloud as he placed his hands on your hips. he held you like he owned you, and in all fairness... sometimes it felt like he did.

you thought the one time you'd try to have a one night stand that everything would go swimmingly. but you picked the wrong man on campus.

graduate student, about three years your senior. with hands like bear paws and about the same strength as one in his grip. and he held you in the middle of the library.

"you just came in and now you're turning around in leaving? surely you had something to do here today. it was close to eight in the evening, the library was next to dead. you remained silent for a moment before he added, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me? is that it, you thought you could leave before i found you?"

you swallowed and lied, "i forgot something."

he chuckled as he leaned in a little closer, "was it your panties? because i found them in my car yesterday. pink with flowers? they kept me busy all of last night when you were ignoring my texts." he held onto you a little tighter, "it's not polite to ignore me, liefje."

the issue was that you wanted a one night stand with someone outside of your little english department. so you ended up with a geography graduate student... however, after that night, max became your shadow.

"what did you do to my panties, max?"

he let go of you and turned you in his arms. he smiled at you, the kind of smile that most at the school would trip over themselves to see. but you could see something else in those blue eyes, "don't worry, i washed them when i was done." then leaned in to kiss you on the cheek.

you pulled back a little, but couldn't go far as he had you basically trapped against him. you could call for help, but the student librarian at the front desk was more occupied with her phone.

max pulled your attention back to him as he said, "why don't we study together? think of it like a date."

you'd never date someone like max. not even as his thumbs tried to push up your t-shirt a little, you managed to get away. you swallowed, you could run and hide. but, max had more eyes on the school than cameras. someone would catch a glimpse of you somewhere on campus and max would find you.

max verstappen was denied very little in his life. and he wasn't going to start of trend of not getting his way.

"so why were you running away, my love?" he asked as he pressed himself up against you. his strong arms were around you middle as he pressed you to him. he smiled was threatening and you felt a cold chill down your spine.

"i told you. i forgot something." you tried to use the last bit of fight in you. but those eyes of his were all knowing.

"wrong. try again." he said before he went in and kissed you on the cheek, "i remember our first night together. you made me feel like nothing else could. you made me feel alive. i hate when you run away from me." he kissed the corner of your lip softly, "now, why don't we study tonight."

you looked up at him. he was a bit taller than you and for sure stronger. the gaze in his eyes warmed up when you nodded, accepting his offer for studying.

see, you knew what max needed. he wanted to be closer to you, he wanted to feel you all over. he even wanted to take you out on dates and make you the center of his world. he was obsessed with you, and you just needed to see that he loved you. but that meant less struggling.

he led you into the back of the library, the furthest part with two chairs in a desk. there was no one else around for a good while. most had left for the evening. which left you alone with max.

"liefje." he said as he sat on the chair and unzipped his fly, "come here." it was a siren's call before he sank his teeth into you. before he ripped you to shreds and drag you under the waves.

you knew what you had to do, you were thankful that the pants you wore were comfy because you knew that one round, even in a semi-public space, wouldn't be enough for max. you knew another pair of your panties would end up in his car.

he watched you lower to your knees and licked his lips, you looked like a doll to him. he said quietly, "let's play a game: don't get caught." before he ran his hands through your hair.

your face was up against his cock and you shuddered a little bit. the size of it was impressive and it made your mouth water a little. this was how he trapped you. the allure of his heavy cock in your face.

with a small whine he pushed your face further against his cock and you had no choice but to take it in your mouth. but few pleasantries were made when he got the tip up against your throat. you whined a little bit, it was almost a whorish noise as you relaxed against his grasp.

mad max, mean max, whatever you wanted to call him. you felt almost at home on your knees in front of him. he was your hook up gone wrong. horribly wrong.

his voice was a curl in your brain and made you shift a little bit on the carpeted ground, "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?" he knew you had to take an extra semester because you failed a course. in a slight fairness it was max's fault, he wouldn't let you go write your final exam. too busy bruising that cunt of yours well into the morning.

even if you tried to write the exam all your brain cells were gone due to how hard hew as fucking you. even now, with his cock in your throat, you felt a loss in most brain activity. no higher thinking while he was choking you on his cock.

you felt amazing around his cock, there were few words to describe how it all felt. he could feel the flutter in his chest as he rammed his cock up against your throat. and when you made a choking noise, he told you to "shut up." before he kept battering his cock up against the back of your throat.

you looked up at him, your eyes looked so innocent as he pressed his cock into your throat as deep as it would go. he still had a lot to teach you about deep throating, but for now he'd take a small pleasure in your choked noises.

"such a pretty girl." he said, "you look so good on your knees. is this how you were passing all your courses? pretty blouses and dick sucking lips." he chuckled lowly as he gripped onto your head further.

you whimpered a little bit as you held onto his strong thighs as you worked yourself onto his cock. you felt the buzz in your head as you continued to move your head.

"this is how i like you. i don't get why you don't understand that. most would kill for a chance to be in your spot. but you get it so easily." he said in a low, harsh tone.

you whined a little bit and arched your back. you felt your body splashed with heat. you trembled a little bit with a certain want. max verstappen knew how to play you like a fiddle. he knew how to take you apart and put all your pieces back together as he liked them.

"such a good girl for me. i'm glad i got a hold of you before you became a slut. now you can't cum on anyone's dick but mine." he said harshly.

in the back corner of the library you gave him head. your brain felt unfocused as he bullied the tip up against your pretty throat. he wanted to bruise it so you couldn't talk for a few days.

"no need to speak words, liefje. not when your boyfriend could do all the talking for you." he said and the words marked on your brain and made your core soaked.

"max." you tried to say with his cock in your mouth.

"shush." he said.

you looked at him once more before his grip on you started to tighten even more. he pushed his cock up against your throat once more, you knew it would be bruised come morning.

you whined and relaxed yourself enough for him to finish down your throat. he groaned and held onto you as he finished in your mouth. you tasted the saltiness down your throat. and your mind went little a blurry for a moment.

when you got your mouth off his cock, you rested your face on his thigh and looked up at him. max was almost sweet when he brushed the side of your face.

"you should be studying how to make me feel good. stupid little thing already knows enough about english." he pinched your cheeks, "be my bride."

you pouted a little, your lips glossed with spit and pre cum, "no, max."

he sighed before he gripped your hair again, "enough thinking. get on the table. i'm not done with you." max knew you inside and out, no other man on campus could compare to him. he'll teach you eventually, that his love was the only one you needed.

[allisonlol]

helloooooooooooooooooo

I hope you're doing well and you're rest because we don't want you to get tired just for us 😭

I have a request I don't know if you already did but can you do dazai and chuuya with reader who stained her skirt with period blood but she's too embarrassed and try to hide it from them

a/n: HELLO.,,,,,everyone omfg srry for being gone for 8 months 😵‍💫 do u guys still luv me…. /j. i’ve been writing on here for 3 years now and we all need a break sometimes but ty for the continued support!! this req is super cute

warnings: afab / fem reader, periods, blood

Chuuya

chuuya is like. super chill abt blood and periods so idk why u would need to hide this from him 😭

but let’s say u guys recently started dating and u still felt a little awkward abt it!!

chuuya had invited you over to his penthouse for the evening and you wore a new skirt just for the occasion

you knew it was risky to wear such a light color while on ur period but WHATEVER !!

a few hours go by fine, with the two of you watching movies and trying sips of his extensive wine collection

however, u start panicking in the bathroom when u realize you’ve bled thru ur new skirt 😭 at THE chuuya nakahara’s house of all places!!!

cuz what if he thinks it’s gross and kicks u out?☹️

^(he would NEVER but ur so panicked and worried that ur overthinking)

you try scrubbing the stain out with cold water which helps a little but also kinda makes it worse cuz now ur skirt has a big wet patch 😭🙏🏻

the stain is still noticeable as well but u suck it up and leave the bathroom

ur immediately fumbling for ur keys and talking about how u have to go home

chuuya is like “wtf happened” and thinks that HE did something wrong or made u uncomfy in some way

he’s surprised but super understanding and goes to walk u to the door

^while walking u out tho he notices the blood and asks all politely and quietly if that’s what’s wrong 🥺 this man is a sweetie pie omfg

u admit to him that it was and he offers u some of his clothes to wear if u want to stay longer…

Dazai

so!! the two of u had went to the mall for the day

an hour in you ditch dazai to sprint to the bathroom and realize that. yes you started ur period and YES it leaked thru ur skirt!!!

you have no way to hide it so you just pray u can get home asap to change before anyone notices

you meander out of the bathroom and sift thru the crowd to find dazai

dazai is already on high alert at being in such a public place with u that he immediately notices ur acting off

^(by “high alert” i just mean that he gets worried you’ll be targeted or attacked bc ur close to him 😭)

anyway. the second dazai notices ur aura is off he won’t stop pestering you about what’s wrong

acts all playful about it but he is low key sweating bc what if something serious happened while he wasn’t around??

you keep fidgeting with ur skirt and insisting that you want to leave immediately

dazai will go quiet and nod in agreement, and y’all begin to leave

except you don’t want the people behind you guys to see the blood so ur pulling all sorts of moves to hide it 😵‍💫

you try walking in front of dazai for coverage but u also don’t want HIM seeing it so ur honestly just stumbling around awkwardly

shit, at this point dazai thinks you’ve been drugged or something and grabs ur arm to drag you towards the exit 😭

shoves ur ass in the car and grabs ur face to examine ur eyes and see if you’re actually on something LOL

^you’ve fr never seen him so serious before

you realize what he thinks has happened so you super bleakly tell him the truth so he stops worrying

dazai will just look at u like “😐” bc WDYMMM u were trying to hide a bloodstain from him!!! he has seen much worse!!!

dw cuz he bursts out laughing 5 seconds later at how both of y’all were so worried over nothing

[lipglossanon]

They Were Roommates

୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

Roommate!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

For the anon who asked for roommate Leon! 💜 I hope I did it justice 😬 🫣 this is pretty much just smut not much lead up 🫣

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight oral, cum swallowing, uhh I think that’s all lol

Not proofread (you know me 💁‍♀️ lmao)

Title pulled from a vine! It’s one of my faves lmao 🤣 ୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

“What do you mean you didn’t put in the ad?”

You know your voice is pitching higher, but this couldn’t get any worse. The guy at least has the good grace to look apologetic. 

He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess my old roommate put that out but he ended up moving instead of me. He never told me he even made an ad, so I’m really sorry about that.”

Frustrated tears prick your eyes but you ignore them.

“So there’s no room to rent? This is literally my last resort before sleeping out in my car.”

He looks at your earnest face and the bags at your feet. You watch as his blue eyes dart back into the apartment and he frowns. 

“Well, do you have any references?” He finally sighs, “if you’ll give me their numbers, I’ll call them and if everything’s kosher I’ll let you rent the room.”

“Really?” Your smile lights up your whole face, “yes, I have some printed out. You’d really be doing me a favor.”

He blushes as you hand him the reference paper in question, looking down at it then back up at you, “I just don’t feel comfortable letting you go without somewhere to stay.”

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” you nod your head at the paper, “I’ll chill out here until you’re finished with that.”

“No,” he shakes his head, opening the door wider, “you can at least sit in the living room. I’ll make these calls and we can go from there.”

And that’s how your first meeting with Leon S. Kennedy, your current roommate, went.  So after months of living together, getting used to each other’s schedules and eating habits, you fall into a really nice and comfortable pattern. Leon is tidy and polite, but also kinda dorky and sweet. 

You find yourself excited to come home after a long, grueling day at the office. Leon works in law enforcement so sometimes he’s working opposite hours from yourself; this week, however, your schedules are synced and it’s Friday night which means movies and pizza. Even better is you got to leave work early, a rare occurrence that you won’t take for granted!

Opening the front door, you drop your keys back in your bag and sing out, “Honey, I’m home!”

You hear a muffled thud from the living room, making you pause in the entryway—door half shut behind you. 

“Leon?” you call out hesitantly. 

Hearing no answer, you quietly set your bag down and slowly inch your way further in the apartment. You peek around the wall into the living room and hold in a gasp. 

Leon is practically naked, the only thing covering his modesty is the flimsy boxers he has on—doing nothing to disguise the fact his dick’s hard. 

You notice a box of tissues tipped over in the floor along with lube which must be what caused the noise. Covering your mouth with your hand, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene in front of you. 

Leon has his phone in hand, headphones connected, as he splays out lazily on the couch. His thighs are spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. You can see his other hand slide underneath the band of his underwear and jerk himself off in his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glued to his phone, hand picking up speed. 

He rests his head on the back of the couch for a moment then pulls his cock completely out of his boxers. You have to swallow down a whine as you see how big and thick Leon’s cock is, throbbing in his hand as he pulls the foreskin down to show off the fat, oozing tip. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache in your clit.

Leon groans low in his throat and slowly strokes his cock, teasing his fingertips across the head.  He fingers the slit, precum oozing out and coating his fingers making them sticky. He sets his phone on the couch so he can keep watching but use both hands on himself. 

He pants and keeps slowly teasing himself with slow, light touches using one hand on his cock as the other gently rolls and tugs his balls. Your mouth waters at the thought of walking the rest of the way into the room and getting on your knees in front of him. As you watch Leon, slick drips from your pussy and fills your panties, making them wet and clingy. 

Leon tosses his head back with a low moan. He humps up into his hand as he fucks his fist in short steady strokes. Pausing, he reaches down for the lube and coats his hand in the clear, shiny liquid. He brings his coated palm back to his dick and moans as he jerks himself off more easily. 

“So wet,” he whispers to himself, “being so good for me, huh.”

You feel shameful arousal curling in your belly as you watch Leon in a private, intimate, moment; but you can’t help ask why he’d do this in the living room? You know you’re home early, but—

Wait, your eyes widen as your brain whirs with thoughts— is this even the first time? You bite your lip to stop yourself from whining. God, how many times has Leon jerked off in the living room while you weren’t here? Or even when you were??

“So good,” Leon’s voice rumbles, “suck that cock, baby, fuck.”

His hips slowly thrust up as his hand tightens around the thick shaft, “You’ve got such a pretty fucking mouth, sweetheart.”

Those words make you dizzy with arousal, a hot surge flooding your body so quickly it feels like you’re going to pass out. You rub your thighs together and can feel yourself starting to leak through your panties. 

Leon starts to fist his cock more roughly, precum and lube oozing over his knuckles. 

He groans, voice gravelly, “Can barely fit me in your mouth, baby.”

He bucks his hips up hard, “God, can even see how far you get cause of that ring of lipstick around my cock.”

You bite into the meat of your palm to curb any sounds, not wanting to get caught. You swallow thickly at the thought of getting caught while watching Leon get off. Maybe he’d want to see how far your mouth would fit around him. Leave your own sheen of strawberry lipgloss around his fat length. You rub your thighs together again, feeling more turned on than ever before in your life.  

Leon groans, pulling your attention back to him away from your own thoughts. One of his hands is still tugging his heavy looking balls while the other keeps a tight tunnel formed around his cock. 

You really want to touch yourself, but it’s hotter to just watch Leon. You can always get off later, remembering this moment.

Your wide eyes continue to watch as the leaky tip of Leon’s dick peeks out of his fist on every stroke—teasing you with the promise of hot cum on your tongue if you only dared enough to go in there for a taste. 

He quickly jerks himself harder, sounds of shlick shlick shlick filling the air. Leon starts humping up into his slick fist, growling in satisfaction as he rolls his hips just right.

“Fuck, you take it so well, baby. A tight little throat just for me.”

Your nipples tighten under your bra, clit throbbing with need. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking down your thighs now. Torn between wanting to leave to touch yourself or watch Leon finish, you ultimately want to see him come undone. 

“Gonna cum all over that cute face, sweetheart,” Leon moans out, thrusting his hips harder as his hand strokes faster. 

Leon’s head lolls back on the couch, eyes closed as he strokes himself faster to completion.

“Yes, fuck,” he groans, low and deep, as ropes of cum spurt across his abs and chest, coating himself in white sticky strands. 

Your pussy flutters, aching and throbbing— needing something in your wet hole. Eyes darting up to his blissed out expression, his own eyes thankfully closed, you quietly tiptoe backwards to the front door. 

You pick your bag up off of the floor and pull the half open door completely open and walk out. You softly shut the door and lean back against it, blowing out a harsh breath.

You really don’t know how you’re going to react when you look Leon in the face, but I guess that’s just something you’ll wing when you get to it. 

Giving yourself several minutes to calm down, you finally re enter the apartment acting like it’s the first time. 

“Heey I’m home!” You yell, a little louder than usual, but you really hope Leon hears you this time. 

“Oh uh, hey,” you hear Leon call back, voice nervous, “you’re home early.”

“Yep!” you take more time than usual to close and lock the door behind you, dropping your bag in the floor near the coatrack. 

“Cool, I haven’t ordered the pizza if you wanna go ahead. I’m actually gonna grab a quick shower,” you can hear his voice get further away as he walks deeper into the apartment. 

You listen for the bathroom door to shut and once your hear it, you let out a relieved sigh. Opening up your phone, you just order the usual Friday night spiel and walk to your bedroom. 

Once inside, you close and lock the door. You shed your clothes like they’re on fire and quickly climb into your bed. This isn’t your usual way of doing things, but your brain is a little too fried to think outside of the image of Leon’s thick cock. 

You grab a pillow you only use as decoration and swing a leg over it as you kneel on top of it. Rocking your hips down, your clit grinds against the fabric and makes you whimper. Slick is steadily dripping from your needy hole as you hump your pillow, imagining Leon in its place. 

Using one hand to keep the pillow steady, your other hand comes up to tease and pinch at your nipples, shooting bolts of pleasure straight to your clit making you cry out softly. 

“Leon,” you whimper, rolling your nipples between your fingers. 

You rock against the pillow faster, already so close just from watching Leon earlier, dragging your wet sensitive clit over and over the coarse pillowcase. 

“God, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine out loud, eyelashes kissing your cheeks as your hips stutter and grind down, cumming so quickly it makes your thighs spasm. 

Slick covers your pillow as you shakily let your hips drop down to sit. Your clit pulses with aftershocks while you pant to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, flopping down onto your bed and pushing your used pillow into the floor. 

Your phone dings and you lazily grab it from your nightstand and look at the notification, reading that the pizza delivery is on its way. 

Pushing yourself up, you get out of bed and go to throw on some ratty pajamas when you pause. 

You pull out a sleeker, prettier matching pj set—a thin teasing top with matching  shorts. Deciding to try your luck, you put them on and give yourself a once over in the mirror. You fluff your hair and apply a quick layer of gloss on your lips, puckering them at the mirror before grinning at yourself. 

Spinning around, you make your way out of your room and into the shared living space hoping to, subtly, grab Leon’s attention as you hang out for the night. 

It works or at least maybe it does—it could be you’re looking too much into things; frowning to yourself, you shake your head and go back to relaxing on the couch. The pizza’s long since gone and now you’ve been chilling in the living room, watching b-rate horror flicks and chatting. You at least think Leon has been looking at you when you weren’t paying attention, but it’s hard to say when you’re not paying attention.  

You sigh out loud and cross your legs. 

“Something the matter?”

You start and turn to Leon with a sheepish smile, “Yeah just thinking.”

He squints his eyes at you, “Mmhmm.”

You laugh this time and kick out your foot to push his knee with your toes, “Fuck off, it’s nothing important.”

He grabs your foot and presses his thumb in the arch making you suck in a sharp breath. 

“You’ve been on your feet all day, haven’t you?” he asks, eyes looking down to his hands now rubbing your foot. 

You feel like melting into the couch cushions, a hot coil of want slowly unraveling in your belly. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “was a long day.”

His brow pinches as he looks back up to you, “Did you talk to your boss about—“

You groan and flop back into the couch arm, kicking your other foot up into Leon’s lap, “Yes, mom. I talked to him and he said until we can hire a replacement, that we’re all just gonna have to ‘do our best for the team’.”

You roll your eyes and grumble, “Like he even does anything more than clock in.”

Leon grabs your other foot and traces along the arch, “I can go talk to’em if you need me to.”

Your smile spreads across your face, “You really would, wouldn’t you? You’re so sweet, Leon.”

His blue eyes drag up from your legs and skimpy sleep shorts, across your body with the nearly sheer top, to look up into your face, “You need someone to take care of you from the sounds of it.”

You gasp out loud at that and Leon wraps his hands around your calves, yanking you down the couch til your ass lands in his lap. 

“Hoping I would notice your slutty little getup, honey?” his smoky voice murmurs in your ear, snapping the band of your shorts, “trying to show me what I’m missing out on, huh?”

Your head spins from the complete 180 Leon is pulling, but you feel a thrill run down your spine.

“Just wanted to feel pretty,” you say, feeling hot all over, hands plucking at the hem of his shirt. 

“So pretty, baby,” he affirms, hands running up your calves to your splayed thighs, thumbs softy grazing your skin. 

His hands slide from your thighs, up your hips to pet at your sides. 

“Heard you get off earlier too, honey,” he whispers hotly in your ear, “walls are thinner than you think.”

You lean back to look him in the eye, “B-but how? I thought you were in the shower.”

He grins at you, “I forgot something so I stepped out to grab it. Not like it’s the first time hearing you anyway.”

Embarrassment makes you squirm on his lap, ducking your head down, “I didn’t know.”

��Sure, baby,” he kisses your jaw, fingers dipping below the band of your shorts and panties, fingers finding your leaking hole and slowly sinking into your pussy. 

“Leon!” You cry out, spine arching until your chest is pressed against him. 

“How d’you think I don’t hear you?” He rumbles, making your nipples stiffen in your shirt, “stuffing your fingers in that needy fucking cunt night after night.”

You gasp, hips rocking down into his fingers, pussy clenching around the digits. 

“M sorry,” you hiccup, eyes watering, “I’ll do better.”

“Yeah you will,” he rubs his thumb across your swollen clit, “cause I’m gonna start giving this little pussy what she needs, whenever and wherever I want. Sound good?”

“Leon,” you whimper, hands grabbing at his forearms, tendons flexing as he keeps finger fucking you on the couch. 

“Seems like every night, I’m in my room stripping my cock raw from those hot breathy moans you make,” he murmurs in your ear, low and smoky, “wore my fleshlight out the first month you moved in, baby.”

Your eyes rolls back as slick leaks from your pussy all over his hand. 

“Like that huh,” he laughs, tongue dipping in your ear before he places a wet kiss on the shell, “s’true, never made such a mess til you moved in, always fucking into that fake pussy thinking of yours.”

You moan high in your throat, “Leon, please, want you so much.”

“Yeah? Y’sure? Don’t want me using my toy, want me in this needy cunt?”

“Yes, yes,” you grind your hips down harder, his fingers stretching your hole open, “want it so bad.”

You whine and tug at his wrist til he finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy.

“Gonna give it to you sweetheart,” he promises you, eyes heated and dark, “gonna fuck you open right here, and then I’m gonna bend you over that kitchen counter and eat your pretty pussy til you cry for me.”

“Leon!” You gasp wantonly, “in me please. Wanna feel you.”

He pulls out his hard cock, smacking the head against your clit, making your hips jump. 

“Sit on me, want you to ride me baby,” he grins, guiding his dick into your drippy hole but not pressing in any further. 

You whimper and rock your hips, easing down his thick cock inch by inch until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep in your pussy, it feels like he’s in your throat. You moan as he grinds up into you, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples. 

“Mmm just like that baby, feel so much better than that plastic pussy,” he groans, twisting your nipples until you’re whining, “god, love the sounds you make.”

Pulling his hands away, he slaps across your breasts making your back arch your chest towards him. 

“Leon,” you mewl, tears slipping from your eyes because of the sting.

“I know,” he soothes, slapping across your tits again, “feels good doesn’t it, baby?”

You dig your nails into his big biceps, bouncing down in his lap to stuff his cock repeatedly into your hole. 

He slaps across each hard nipple until they’re puffy and swollen. You moan and hump down on him harder, the pain bleeding into pleasure and making you even wetter. One hand dips between your bodies to softly rub across your clit; he drags his fingers lower to stroke your pussy lips, getting his fingertips wet and dragging them back up to circle around your swollen bud. 

“Greedy little thing aren’t ya, honey?” he laughs deep in his chest, “c’mon ride me a little harder, baby.”

He moves both of his hands down to grab the fat of your ass and fuck up harder into your clenching pussy. 

“Leon,” you moan, fingers digging into the tense muscles on his shoulders, “gonna cum.”

“Already?” he scoffs, “pretty easy cunt ya got here then, sweetheart.”

You cry out, the sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching from his rapid thrusts are so loud in the small living room, making your walls flutter and clamp down on his pistoning cock. 

“Wanna cum,” you sloppily kiss down Leon’s jaw to his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin, “want you to cum with me.”

Leon groans, sounding pained, “Sure, honey. Where do you want it?”

“My mouth,” you pant out quickly, “cum in my mouth, please.”

“Fuck,” he laughs choppily, “okay then sweetheart. I’ll cream your little throat.”

You whine and rock your hips down faster, “Yes, yes, Leon, so good.”

One hand moves to your hip to help you keep up a quick rhythm and the other goes back to rubbing and flicking your sensitive clit. 

“C’mon, honey, cum on my cock so I can fill that pretty mouth,” he smirks and shakes the hair out of his face, “you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me.”

Leon bottoms out in your pussy and just grinds against your g-spot as he teases and pinches your clit; your thighs lock up as your orgasm washes over you, pussy clamping down and milking his cock, clit throbbing under his thumb as he keeps up the slow steady circles on the sensitive nerves. 

“Good girl, good girl just for me,” he noses your hairline, feeling your body shake as he overstims your clit, “get in the floor, honey, ‘m ready for you to swallow this load.”

You moan and arch up, begrudgingly pulling yourself off of his dick so you can kneel between his thighs on the floor. 

“Want it, Leon,” your glazed eyes peer up at him, watching as he fists his cock in front of your mouth. 

“Oh you’re gonna get it, baby,” he grunts, “open that fucking mouth.”

You part you lips and loll your tongue out, whining when you feel hot spurts of jizz land on your tongue and lips. 

“Fuck that’s it,” he groans, watching you with sea dark eyes, hand slowly stroking his dick, feeding each spurt of cum into your open, eager mouth. 

You moan, the sound garbled from the cum pooling on your tongue and sliding down your throat. 

With one last groan, he lets go of his twitching cock. You watch as it droops, a drop of cum beading on the fat tip making you duck froward to lap at the head. 

“Baby,” he hisses, “a little early for me to go again,” he laughs and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip. 

Your tongue darts out to lap at his thumb, “S’good though?”

“The best, sweetheart,” he leans down to pull you up in his lap, “can’t wait to taste you later.”

You sigh, eyes drooping in pleasure. Guess that pajama set really did work out in your favor. 

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Part 3 (One of Us) of 'Never Took The Time (To Forget)' previously known as 'Hopper Adopts Steve But Make It Sad'

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), part 3, Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 4.2 (Robin's Boy), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

Here's a bit more for you filthy animals 😘

Much like he's come to expect from the small soldiers these children have fashioned themselves into he's not surprised when they come pouring out of whichever of the twins' rooms they shoved themselves in like codependent sardines. He's not surprised by the looks of anger and disappointment and confusion. Claudia Henderson's kid -Dustin- looks on the edge of tears with a grim set to his mouth that reminds him of when the kid's mom is beyond words in her slow-burning fury. El and Will have matching looks of disappointed confusion.

What he's not expecting is the way Mike and the younger (usually more volatile) Sinclair are holding onto an incensed looking Lucas. Lucas who has always been the polite one when it came to addressing adults and the one to preach caution and thinking plans through. Lucas who has been quiet and withdrawn since Hop came back, spending his days at the edge of Party affairs when not helping in the rebuilding efforts around town or sitting at Max's bedside.

"What the fuck, Hopper?" The kid spits out and that seems to snap the rest of The Party into action. Will goes to join the two holding Sinclair back but Dustin starts near incoherently yelling in that screechy pitch only that kid seemed to be able to hit about bullshit cops and useless adults and to let Lucas go. "He idolized you, man! Would tell us all the time that you were 'one of the good ones' that if we ever needed anyone and he wasn't there, to find you. That you would take care of us because that's just what you did for people. Because you were good!"

"Lucas, chill out man." Mike pants though he's also glaring daggers at Hop.

This is where Joyce (god bless her) decides to step in. "Lucas, honey-" She says with her soft voice and big wet eyes and that warmth she seems to infuse into everything she touched. "It's complicated. There's some things you just don't understand and-"

"No! You two don't understand! Steve is GOOD. He's good and he cares and he takes care of everyone else and he always kept us safe." The kid seems to be losing some of his steam, pulling at his friends less and resigned to shaking in barely contained fury. "He gets hurt and he gets back up and he apologizes for taking a fall in the first place! He's just Good."

"I know he's been good to you kids and I appreciate that, I really do Lucas." Joyce says, her voice a little stronger, that steadiness returning. "Sometimes people in our lives can do bad things to others and we don't see it because we care about them and that's not always a bad thing. But we have to remember that the people who were wronged are allowed to be upset and that's normal to feel and-"

"You mean like Jonathan?" The room goes quiet. Will looks resigned but not surprised by Lucas' question but the rest of the kids look just as confused as him and Joyce. "Did you really think Steve broke his camera -in the school parking lot of all places- for the hell of it? Did you seriously never question it?"

Hop feels something twist in his gut. He had been so caught up in the search for Will and wrangling a frantic Joyce that he hadn't paid any attention to small-town squabbles like two teenagers having it out in the school parking lot, the destruction of personal property or what might have triggered it. He looks over the kids' heads to see Jonathan and his stoner buddy standing just outside his door. The friend looks confused but Jon is looking at his mom who hasn't noticed him yet like a man preparing himself for the gallows.

"Mom." Joyce's eyes snap from where they were locked on Lucas up to her oldest son. "Mom, I-"

"What are they talking about Jon?" It's quiet. Quiet and scared because everyone in the room knows that whatever secret reason Lucas (and maybe Will?) seems to be the only one to know Steve had for picking a fight isn't going to be good. Jonathan's mouth opens like he's going to say something but no words come out. "Honey, what did you do?"

"He took pictures of Steve and his friends the night Barbara Holland disappeared."

"Will?" all eyes except Lucas' (who is still glaring daggers at Hop) are on the two brothers. One scared and almost pleading the other disappointed and resolved.

"He hid in the bushes and took pictures of Steve and his friends with Nancy and Barbara. There were pictures of Barbara at the Harrington place before she died and he never told anyone. But there were also-" He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he can't look at his older brother who has hung his shaggy head under everyone's heavy gaze. "There were pictures of just Steve and Nancy. Alone together. In Steve's room."

There's a sharp gasp that he thinks came from Joyce but he's too busy watching the young man he's come to consider a son. His head is still lowered and his shoulders are curving in on themselves as he shakes off the hand his long-haired friend tries to place on his shoulder.

"Oh baby," Joyce's voice is wet again. A tone of horrified disappointment to it that Hop has only heard her use when talking to or about one other person. "Tell me you didn't."

"Then he-" Will clears his throat like this one is what gives him pause. "He was caught developing the pictures in the school's darkroom. All of the pictures. And he had zoomed in on Steve's window. Nancy was the center of the shot." The kid's eyes flit over to Mike (who is now turning an interesting shade of red as he glares at Jonathan) before he blushes and looks at the ground, "She uh-"

Lucas does not seem to share Will's newfound hesitance in the face of an enraged Mike Wheeler. "Most of the upperclassmen argue if she had a bra or not but they all seem to agree she didn't have a top."

"Oh my god." Everyone was frozen as Joyce began to crumble. "Oh my god." He reached out to catch her, her nails digging into his arm through his shirt sleeve as she stared unseeing at her oldest son.

Jonathan started forward. "Mom, I-" a hand in the middle of his chest stopped him. "Will, please, I need to-"

"Just stop, man." Lucas sighs. "You started this shit, you gotta deal with it before you hurt someone else besides Steve."

"I didn't mean to hurt Steve."

Hops feels himself frozen to the spot in a way he's not used to anymore these days. His mind is working overtime picking out all of the charges that could have been pressed even against a boy of 15/16 if any of the kids in Harrington's inner circle had told an actual adult about the situation. The veritable legal hell that would have been brought down on Joyce while searching for a son legally assumed dead.

"Is that what you told yourself when you helped Nancy cheat?" And it just kept getting worse.

Joyce gives off a whimper and the kids gathered make varied sounds of shock and disgust.

"They were broken up."

"Were they? Cause everybody at school and half the town seems to all know about you and Nancy disappearing together when Steve was still calling her his girlfriend and then you all showed back up to school, Steve beat to hell again and Nancy hanging all over you. The basketball team STILL talk about it."

He's heard enough. "Alright, that's it!" He yells out over the children yelling and Joyce demanding answers and Jonathan's friend trying to say something about there being some sort of explanation. "This doesn't help us help Steve."

Lucas shakes off the loose hold Erica and Mike still had on him and crosses his arms as he rolls back his shoulders and tilts his jaw up to fix him with a glare. The kid's stance is almost arrogant but Hop can't help but notice the way he rests his weight on his off side, his shoulders back and his posture straight without his chest puffing out ridiculously like Hop is used to from teenage boys gearing for a fight.

"I think you've helped enough, Hopper." It's quiet and biting and he lets himself have a moment of grief for the childhood these kids lost, and the fact that he's almost positive Lucas didn't pick up this easy confidence from anyone else in their monster fighting club but Steve. "You and Mrs. Byers want to play nice now cause you feel guilty and that's all well and good but what happens when Steve does something else you don't agree with without explanation? Or he and Jonathan or Nancy get in another fight? When we finally get rid of Vecna and the Upside Down for good? What happens when you don't feel guilty anymore?"

"I can't make any sort of promise you lot will believe. And lord knows I'm pretty shit at keeping them anyways. I just want to be able to try."

"He mourned you, you know. When we were told you didn't make it." That weight is back in his chest. "He held himself together around us but there were- there were moments we could tell. He and El really bonded over that. Over you. Over losing you."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You didn't want to know."

"There's no way I can make you believe me. That I want to fix this."

"We want to, Hopper." Dustin butts in, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and limping up next to the other boy. "But from what you and Mrs. Byers were talking about... There's just a lot that makes a lot more sense and it doesn't inspire a lot of faith in either of you."

"We need to discuss this as a Party."

"Okay."

"That means letting us take care of it. Steve's one of us and you hurt him."

"I understand."

"So you and Mrs. Byers have got to wait till we say you can talk to Steve. That he's ready for it."

"Now, kids-"

"No they're right, Joyce. We fucked it up on our own and- and he trusts these little shits more than he trusts us right now. We've gotta do the same."

Joyce sighs, "Fine."

She's not happy about it and honestly neither is he. But if the last few years and his stint in a Russian gulag and the subsequent escape taught him anything it's maybe he needs to trust his people to do what they need to do.

The kids scurry back to whichever of the Twins' room they came from, led by a newly determined and involved Lucas and a furiously muttering Dustin. Jonathan and Joyce make their way to the kitchen and Hopper decides he's going to let them have that conversation in as much privacy as they can with a house as full as theirs.

Hopper sits in the living room, runs his hands through his hair that's finally growing out and pulls them down his face before resting his chin on steepled fingers. He hates sitting and waiting and relying on someone else for the next steps. But all he can think about is the sound Steve made. The look in his eyes. The pride in his voice the last time he heard him say, "My Hop."

That's it!

He stands up so fast his bad ankle protests and his knees pop. He limps to the front door, yelling out to the house that he has to go, has something to do. Calls out he has his walkie and that El needs to be ready on time. Then he's out the door.

Part 4.1

More coming soon! Hopefully! Work went from an active team of about 12 to 5, not including the managers we lost ssssooo... Yeah fun times. 🙃

So here's a tag-list, hope I didn't miss anyone. Feel free to yell at/with me in the comments or ask box. If you see your old tag in my list tell me your new one so I can fix it.

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @katdeerly @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @child-of-cthulhu @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @rocochen20 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus

[allmyn1ghts]

Shield's First Lady ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The Shield x Fem!Reader (platonically)

Synopsis: just a little hc about being the first and only lady of shield!!

Warnings: fluff and some angst

a/n: missing my boys and 2013-15 real bad yall!!

you absolutely loved your boys

at first, you were really iffy about the idea Triple H presented

"I want you to be Shield's First Lady! I think you being with the guys would be a perfect fit."

you didn't really want to be in a group or associated with one. But you decided to go ahead with the idea

You barely talked to Roman before but Seth and Dean were foreign to you.

"It's so nice to meet you all, I'm sure this is gonna be super fun for all of us!" 

The three men were nothing but sweetheart to you. always polite, making sure you were good

from that moment, you knew you had made the right choice

your role was pretty simple, the fearless badass of the group 

you would stand ringside for almost every match whether it be singles, tag, or all three of them. sometimes distract the ref so they can pull an illegal move ;)

every backstage segment had all four of you in it chilling in your custom locker room, getting ready for a match, etc...

promos always had you on the mic

"Shield is taking over the WWE. We have the Tag Team titles, the United States Championship, the Divas championship, My boys and I are unstoppable"

the fans absolutely loved Shield (you were the fan favorite)

yall had become a little family!

the four of you always went out after shows, having a blast

when the boys would get into stupid little arguments, you were the mediator

"C'mon guys enough! We're family. act like it!" 

when you got loud, oh they listened for sure. They knew not to piss you off

don't be fooled though, they loved you more

What you did for them ringside, they did for you.

Every time you won, they would slide into the ring and hold you up on their shoulders.

they always made you laugh at their silly side convos 

Everything was good

until it wasn't

The day Seth betrayed you all, was the day your heart broke

"Seth what are you doing?! How could you do this to us?! We're family!"

You looked him in his eyes, slapping him across the face. He had nothing to say but a smirk on his face. 

Seth not only betrayed you but his brothers too, his family.

Shield was never the same for any of you after that day. 

hope yall enjoyed this lil hc! comment and reblog pls and thank u <33

request - masterlist - about me - who I write for

[respectmyfrench]

Reasons Why I think Azzi will be a top draft pick

1. Her quick release. Her pretty shot. That high release is what I love the most about it. Her calmness through it all. Before she got injured, she was working on her spacing and movements in play which was seen in a game against Texas (https://youtu.be/WkpDcVeWME8?si=RmleTQeLKtLb31Ft). Her behind the arc shooting has improved (https://youtu.be/lzmMXGvJhXc?si=tbscjdhv1gQb8dsi) Her defense is also good. Good arm length and athletic build. She has good ball handling skills. An amazing off ball player. She needs to go crazy with her shooting this year and I think she can do it. I truly believe she’s one of the greatest shooters and she just needs to prove it to y’all because I know 🤷🏾‍♀️ lol. https://youtube.com/shorts/beOVqydEo3A?si=05uqnQYQQ76EMpwL this was a month ago btw.

2. It's interesting that people say she might not be ready to join the league because she's not prepared for the physicality but I disagree. I think people underestimate her because she's a pretty player lol but she's also very strong. She's training with the best of the best from Chris brinkly, kelsey plum, to steph curry and under Armor etc. She handles contact well. Have y'all seen her new media pics? I know you see the increased muscle definition. She'll be alright. I actually think she’s in the best shape of her career right now https://youtu.be/EmEO5aweU2Y?si=VCmBVCzqWAMYmXjC

3. I don't write people off for injuries. Gabby williams, also a huskie, tore her ACL twice. Sue Bird, another huskie, a dawg! Brittney Sykes, big hooper. Dijonai Carrington had 6. SIX knee surgeries. I know y'all see her hooping. I think Azzi will be available to play early or mid December.

4. Her mindset. She's super resilient and a fast learner. that's the type of player coaches love. If she keeps the same determined mentality she has and take the pressure off herself, she will be great.

5. Her marketing pull. Let’s keep in mind that this is also a business. You have to be really well off for you to not consider the amount of fans and sponsorship Azzi can bring to the team. She is extremely marketable and already has a large amount of endorsements not to mention she has the Steph Curry co-sign. Are you really letting someone Steph Curry co-signs any chance he gets go second round?? Pls be fr.

Work it out

Now with that being said, there are things she can improve on. We gotta keep it real with people we want to succeed right? Okay. So Azzi tend to overthink sometimes. You can see it when she misses some shots sometimes, she gets in her head but she has seemed a lot less tense in general recently which is great, I wouldn’t want her to feel pressured or stressed this season. I noticed how she didn’t let anyone decide her song choice for first night which may or may not have been a statement about not letting outside noise get to her🤔🤔I’m probably thinking deep into it lol but yeah. She seems more chill. Just go out and do her thing. Also I would love her free throw percentage to go up. When she’s hot, she’s hot. The threes start flying. More great shot selections will be her bestie this season. I truly believe for her to be amazing, she needs to separate herself from Paige (on the court). Hoop Politics on tik tok made a great point saying that she has to stop deffering to Paige. She can’t always look to Paige to bail her out or look to Paige when she sees her. She has to be more aggressive just like Paige has to be more selfish. https://youtu.be/kzbA4avszQw?si=64Cj6uDgAEwHp6D8 that pass from nika to azzi 😮‍💨whew too good. That quick release! Y’all see her on the court without Paige though? I’m seeing playmaking, floor general, all types of leadership. She needs to find a way to keep this energy while her and Paige are in the backcourt. Both of them playing like this is easily a 30 ball for both each game🤷🏾‍♀️ congrats to 2025 big east champs UConn pretty much

Last thoughts

So final thoughts. Azzi is a top draft pick. Top 5 if she gets out this year. If she waits another year, I believe she’ll be top 3. The main reason I would want her to stay another year is so she can have practice leading a team and play more to get even more fit. Also to go on a championship run. I would soak up all the knowledge I can from geno while I still can. If she stays another year she can also prove she can stay healthy which of course also looks good. Ultimately this depends on her though and what she feels ready to do. There’s also the option to go straight overseas like Hoop Politics mentioned which I think also could be a good for her and then she’d be a top pick the following year.

So boom. Y’all been asking me in my messages for a while for me to post this. I appreciate that lol here it is.i hope it didn’t disappoint. My next one will be on Aubrey griffin, one of my top fav defenders in the ncaaw🤝🏾 https://youtu.be/LmMq57NUr4I?si=ACHa1cGo8nY7KB0p

[morgan-lowell]

Karasuno in a Fitting Room

Hi. I work in a fitting room. I hate it. Don’t work in a fitting room. But lemme tell you how I think Karasuno would act in a fitting room. For sillies and funnies.

Daichi

A very polite boy!

Who has no idea what he is doing!

Someone please help him

Oh wait that’s my job…

He constantly calls for help

“Do you have this in a bigger size? What other colors do you have? What's the return policy on these? Does another store have it?”

Like bro please chill out with the questions other people need help 😭😭

He’s a model customer tho

Brings out the clothes, says please and thank you, and makes very nice conversation

He would be a regular that I’d make friends with

Sugawara

Oikawa called him Mr. Refreshing and hE WAS SO RIGHT

What is it about him that makes him such a good customer?

Is it his pretty face? Is it his easygoing smile? His politeness? Or is it something innate? Why do I feel like everything will be all right with him around?

Idk what it is but he’s making my day 🤷‍♀️

He’s the type to show his outfit and ask “How does this look on me?”

Quick story, a customer once asked me what I thought of the purple pants he was planning to buy and I described them as "swanky"

I think he was intimidated by that because his response was "wow, I have never heard that word before" 😂😂 and he left the pants

Sugawara would not be intimidated by me calling his outfit swanky

Also lowkey does my job if I have to walk away or turn my back

“Oh yeah, just go right in! You can set what you don’t want on the counter.”

Suga please it’s my job you don’t have to do this

Asahi

“Hello, welcome in!” “Oh, hello!”

Very apologetic customer

“I’m sorry to disturb you but could you help me with this?”

Omg yes of course I’ll help you don’t apologize for needing help that’s what I’m here for

Actually listens when I ask him to bring his clothes out when he’s done

Lemme know if anyone is ever bothering you hun cuz I can call security to have them kicked out

Apologizes when he brings his clothes out 😭

“I’m so sorry to add more to your workload…”

Tbh you don’t have to apologize when you bring clothes back…

“…I can just put these back where I found them?”

On second thought, you’re an angel and I’ll love you forever Asahi

I wish all customers like Asahi a very pleasant evening and a pat on the head

Nishinoya

s i g h

I love you Noya, I really do

But I know for a fact that he’d be a MENACE in the fitting rooms

He’s just so loud?? For no reason????

Bro what are you yelling in the fitting room for??? There’s only a mirror and a bench in there???????

He’s like that random kid in the school hallway that screams for no reason

He doesn’t sound like he’s in distress tho?? so I don’t call security yet

Also, he sometimes shops in the kids section I KNOW HE DOES HAHAHA

No shame Noya, I shop in the kids section too

The adults section doesn't have pikachu hoodies

I bet he grabbed one too

Tbh he’d be funny enough where I can excuse his loudness

He brings his clothes out (none of it folded and no hangers) and says:

“Sorry about that, my friend sent me a pic of a dog he saw and I got excited.”

Understandable king, have a nice day

I tell my coworkers about the weird customer who was screaming about a dog and we all agree he was very relatable

Tanaka

“Hi, welcome in!” “Heya! Thanks!”

This guy looks intimidating. He probably won't bring his clothes out

He comes out dressed in nice jeans and a dark polo shirt

"Can I ask for your opinion? I'm going on a date later today and I wanna dress nicely but I don't know what I'm doing."

Oh...

Yeah of course, I'll help you out. Is it more formal or casual?

Actually a really chill and cool dude!

So respectful too

He asks for opinions on each outfit

"I need a woman's opinion. What do girls like best on a man?"

Uhh, personally I’m a huge fan of poet shirts and thigh highs but we don’t sell those

"Are you sure this looks good?" "Yes! The color really suits you."

Brings his rejected outfits to me and says:

"Thanks for all your help. I feel like a new man with these clothes!"

Man, you are so very welcome! I hope the date goes well!

Ennoshita

He is power walking for some reason??

“Hi, welcome in!” “Hellothankyou.”

Why is he talking so fast? Are you okay dude??

Leaves and tries on multiple things

Bro does not know his size so he’s gotta try everything

The more clothes he brings in, the deeper I feel my stomach sink

Until…

“Uh, I’ll just take these back where I found them. I need to get another size anyway.”

omgomgomgomg

Wait you dropped this king 👑

I don’t even care if they’re on the right hanger or not

This must be an angel sent to provide me relief from the other bozos in this store

He leaves too quickly for me to tell him to have a nice day

Kinoshita

Karasuno has very polite boys who were raised right so I have complete faith in them

Although I do draw the line of kindness somewhere

Take Kinoshita for example

He does everything right: greets me back, says thank you, brings his clothes out, and he even has a good smile

It goes downhill once he returns his clothes

Cuz he’s trying to be helpful by folding the clothes at my counter but…

He’s not doing it right 😬😬

K-Kinoshita please, I appreciate what you’re doing but you’re doing it wrong and I’m just gonna have to redo it and it’s a little embarrassing to watch please just stop

“Um, thank you, have a good one!”

My smile says I’m dying inside

Narita

“Hello, welcome in!” *nods as a greeting*

Quiet and respectful. I like him already

He’s not gonna try on a lot, just what he needs

In and out in no time

“Thank you, have a good one!”

I wish more people were like Narita

Kageyama

Ummmm he’s okay, comes off a little rude

Just waltzes right in without greeting

“Hi, welcome in!” “…”

Ok buddy

He's just very focused lol

He's a quick changer, love that about him

Oof wait I can see him competing with Hinata to see who changes faster

UGH THATD BE THE WORST

They would leave a huge mess and make so much noise

I might call security on them lol

They’re the teenagers in Target everyone warns you about

Anyway, back to Kageyama

He’s a polite lad so he brings the clothes out but they’re either on the wrong hanger or just bunched up in his hands

I’ll take it. Great effort Kageyama! 👍

Hinata

✨THE PERFECT CUSTOMER✨

he’s so nice and friendly, I would love for Hinata to visit my fitting room

“Hi, welcome in!” “Hello! Thank you!”

He’d make easy conversation, workers love him instantly

Such a nice smile!!!

And so polite!!!!!!

Truly an anomaly in this store

He’s really quick with changing too, he wastes no time

My carrot top son, I love him so much

He probably knows his exact size and everything

Also shops in the kids section LOL

Unproblematic, friendly, AND HE BRINGS THE CLOTHES OUT WHEN HES DONE

“I’m sorry. I tried to hang them myself but I had no idea how.”

Baby it is okay, your effort is appreciated please know that I love you

I only tell the customers I like to have a nice day and Hinata would get one every time

“Thank you! Have a nice day!” “Thank you, you too!”

Tsukishima

I feel like Tsukishima is self-aware enough to realize his personality would not survive working retail lol

One customer would be rude and he’d clap back instantly and get fired cuz they’d complain about him

So he’s unproblematic when he’s at a store

Asshole to everyone but customer service workers

Treat others how you want to be treated kinda guy

Probably hates trying on clothes cuz he never finds anything that fits

At least he’s respectful

“Thank you, have a nice day!” “Thank you.”

Yamaguchi

“Hello, welcome in!” “Oh, um, thank you.”

Nice and good boi!

Also doesn’t find anything in his size but he’ll ask

I’d actually do my job and help him look LOL

He probably tries to go outside his comfort zone but he’s having a hard time

“Are you sure this looks okay?” “Of course! But how do you feel in it?”

I tend to do that a lot with customers like Yams

Wear what you feel good in!

That just a lil tip for yall 😘

He brings out all the clothes but they’re backwards lol

“Thank you. I hope you like your outfit!” “Thank you, you too!”

Oops uhhhh, I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that

Kiyoko

“Hi, welcome in!” “Hello.”

A…a natural beauty…

I can’t look at her…it’s too much….

Queen slays with every outfit she tries on

She keeps admiring the skirts and shorts but she never tries them on??

Wonder why

“Did you need help finding that skirt in another size?” “Oh… No. Thank you though.”

Despite absolutely nailing every outfit and catching the attention of just about every other patron in the store, she returns all the clothes.

“I’m sorry. Nothing seemed to suit me. Thank you for all your help.”

Wh…what???

Girl everything suited you. Whaddaya mean!?!?

I know you wanted to try that skirt on! It would look so good!!

But hey, idk her story, I just work in the fitting room

“You’re welcome. Please have a nice day!”

I wonder if she’ll every come back for that skirt…

Yachi

Another very apologetic customer

No one needs to apologize this much guys 😭

“I’m so sorry for making a mess!”

You haven’t made any kind of mess! Please calm down!

She’s also pretty quick with changing

She comes out after with all the clothes…folded and hung perfectly??? What is this witchcraft????

I bet she’s worked retail before

She holds up two different shirts and says “Um, can I ask for your opinion on these two? Which do you prefer?”

She’s very clearly a little wound up so maybe some light conversation will loosen her

“I like the one on the right…” it’s not the truth but it leads to a conversation and she starts to relax more

“Thank you so much. You’ve been very helpful!” “It’s no trouble at all. Enjoy the rest of your day!” “Thank you! You do as well!”

I think I just made a new friend :)

[steviewashere]

#50 just make it hurt/comfort and really angsty and sad (I’m clearly in a sad mood asking this rn 😅)

First of all, I hope you're doing better! And hopefully this suffices the ask. I got a lil' crazy with it, wrote way more than a drabble (again), but who cares?

50: Writer's preference, I chose prompts 33: "Please don't do this." and 12: "I think we need to talk."

Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Steve Harrington has Nightmares, Steve Harrington has PTSD, Steve Harrington is a Mess, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, (And Gets One!), Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Arguments, Making Up, Mild Vomiting (Like One and Done), Miscommunication

————— Eddie notices a lot about Steve. Which makes sense, they’re dating, that’s supposed to make sense. But sometimes he wishes that he didn’t have to notice. That he didn’t have to hide his glances because he could spot Steve’s heavy eye bags, or the way his shoulders have been slumping, or how high strung and tight and angry he’s becoming.

The first time he sees a change in Steve’s demeanor, they’re hanging out with all their other survived friends. In his backyard. By the pool. Except, that’s not quite right. Everybody except Steve and Nancy are hanging out at the pool. They’re on opposite sides of the yard, surveying, keeping close eyes on everyone as they move and speak and laugh. At some point, though, Nancy decides she’s had enough waiting. She leaves her post, hesitantly sits next to Robin on the edge of Steve’s pool, and lets her feet soak in the water. Her smile comes easy and her eyes grow soft, and that’s when Eddie knows she’ll be okay. But he keeps his eyes on Steve.

Sure, he should be enjoying himself. Which he is, slightly. Standing in the shallow end, leaned up against the pool wall, just letting the water kiss his scarred skin. He’s sipping on a chilled beer. Talking languidly with Dustin and Lucas and Jonathan about music and games and hobbies. Then, Dustin leaves him. Leaves the water. Strides over to Steve, face set with determination, and a pep in his step. Eddie goes quiet in the conversation, looking over his shoulder instead to where Steve is tucked near his back door. Where he’s not drinking his beer, still sealed and dripping condensation onto Steve’s bare thigh.

Dustin asks him something. Steve shakes his head. He tries offering something else, gesturing loosely with his hand at the pool and the small group that he just came from, but Steve is adamant on his decision. But of course, Dustin never takes no as an answer. He pushes. Which leads to Steve roaring: “Dustin, fuck off!”

Everybody falls silent at that. Eyes on him. Steve bristles, chucks his closed beer to the wooden porch, and disappears into his house with a slam of the door. The beer is fizzing, exploded. And then Dustin starts crying.

That’s the first time Eddie notices a change.

The next time, it’s somewhat subtle. Steve spacey at work, quiet as he shelves tapes, not even talking with Robin. He tries speaking with Steve, but only gets some non-committal grunts instead.

His last straw is an argument they’re having. Currently.

Steve’s tired, bitchier than usual, tense in his shoulders and wild-eyed. Eddie tries to stay soft, give himself a chance to remain calm and keep in mind that Steve’s going through something. But that doesn’t even begin to deter the argument.

“Listen, I think it would be good for…us—“ You, Eddie doesn’t say. “—if you let me help you out,” he’s trying to persuade. He’s standing in Steve’s kitchen. Gesturing at the pile of dishes in the sink and on the counter. Pointing out how the garbage has overflowed. And how he knows laundry hasn’t been done lately. He’s trying to be polite about it. “It’ll be like when I first got out of the hospital, okay? You just rest up and I clean up a little bit, make you something that you want to eat, and we can cuddle and watch a movie.”

However, he knows he’s hitting a brick wall over and over. None of his words are making their way through. The softness is leaking from his throat, drying him out, making him want to puke. Steve huffs through his nose. Face red, eyebrows furrowed so hard that his eyes are nearly closed with it, nose flared, and mouth downturned so extreme he nearly looks like Beaker from The Muppets. “I don’t want your help, Eddie!” Steve shouts from his spot at the dining table. He wouldn’t let Eddie come any closer. “I’m not some child, you know that?! I’m fine, I can do this on my own, and I certainly don’t need somebody like you telling me what needs to happen!”

All at once, the gentle care nukes in Eddie’s chest. Replaced instead by a hazardous anger, red hot and corroding. “What do you mean by that?” He asks bitterly. Voice flat, devoid. “Thought we were over biases, Steve,” he spits.

Steve blubbers like an out of water goldfish. ��I—That—You know what I mean, Eddie. Not like—It’s just—“ he flounders. His eyes trail down towards the watch on his wrist. They grow wet, but not the tears that come from sadness. These are tears of agitation. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says wetly; the first thing that fell from his mouth when Eddie began to bring everything up. “Everything’s perfectly fine. Just got behind in house chores, which is whatever, you know? Like—“ He chuckles darkly, a self-deprecating thing, something painfully normal. “—Who the fuck actually cares about how messy everything is, right? Just leave it alone. Let’s…Let’s go cuddle,” Steve says hastily. He clambers up and out of his seat, around the table, and into the kitchen. Wrapping himself tightly around Eddie, cheek pressed to his chest, trying to pull them into the living room.

But Eddie doesn’t wrap back. He steps away. Putting distance between them. “I don’t want to do that with you right now, Steve,” he mutters. “That fucking hurt. What you said. I don’t really feel comfortable being here right now. Forget that I brought this up, okay?” He steps around Steve, who stands stunned and heartbroken in his own kitchen. Eddie’s in the doorway before Steve has the chance to reach out and touch him again. “I—I think we need to talk. But I can’t do it right now. I can’t…Why would you say that? Jesus, Steve.” And yeah, he had different intentions when coming over here. Wanted to soothe whatever was going on. Figure out how he could help. If he could help. In fact, he would’ve been fine with Steve pushing him off again, insisting on a topic change. He would’ve let it happen. But not now.

He makes sure the hurt is shown on his face before he leaves. Before he has a chance to rub his eyes and sniffle. And ignores how Steve calls out to him. He needs to calm down before he says something he might regret, something that would hurt worse than what Steve said to him.

They don’t cross paths often after that. Sometimes Eddie sees him at Family Video, but not for very long. In just to rent a tape and get out, hurt simmering unrestful in his ribcage. He can spot Steve out of the corner of his eye, reaching out, stepping in place, mouth opening and closing. But he ignores what he has to say.

Sees Steve when he drops off people for Dungeons & Dragons nights at the Wheeler’s house. But he scurries off before anything can happen. Other people start to take notice and Eddie has to shoot a warning glance with a gritted, “It’s private. I don’t want to tell you.”

Today, though, he notices Steve dropping something off at Max’s. She takes the offered thing from his grip, shuts the door softly at his back, and then Eddie finds Steve’s eyes. Hard not to notice him when he lives only a short distance away from Max’s place, but what greets him makes his stomach knot. Steve is unwell. Pale and jumpy, eyes bloodshot, his eye bags heavy and dark circles so purple—he almost looks bruised. His hands are shaking, clothes are rumpled, and his hair is…greasy, flat, knotted. Eddie puts out the cigarette he’d been smoking and walks calmly and quietly down his steps. Crossing to Steve’s bumper.

“Hey, baby,” he greets softly.

Steve startles anyway. Turning with his hand gripping tight to his door handle. Tugging on it, though it must be locked. His eyes are wide and devastating. Wet, exhausted, puffy and swollen. They’re red raw. Like he’s been crying. And rubbing at them, too. At a closer look, Steve’s cheeks are blank of any color at all, slightly gaunt. His lips are chewed to all hell. And his facial hair is wiry, outgrown. Unkempt.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, stepping closer. He places a firm hand to Steve’s left bicep, squeezing ever so gently. Runs his thumb over the taut muscle. “Can we talk inside? Let me make you a cup of tea and get you something to eat?”

He doesn’t say anything, but does release his hold on the car handle. Follows slowly to the door, but doesn’t come close to the couch where Eddie gestures to.

“You can sit on the—“

“Please don’t do this,” Steve sobs.

Immediately, Eddie comes closer into his space. Hands splayed in front of him, ready to reach out and touch and hold, but isn’t sure if that’s allowed. “What? What shouldn’t I do, Steve?” He questions. His voice quivers with concern.

“Don’t leave me, Eds,” Steve cries, rattling and shaking with it. His chest stutters. Hiccups in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry—I’m so—I didn’t mean it, I was just upset and I know that’s not okay, but I—“ Steve gags harshly, doubling over with it. Eddie rushes behind him, grabs for the waste bin, and sets it out in front of him. “—I was being an asshole and I’m sorry and I’m sorry that I hurt you and that you thought I thought bad about you, but I didn’t, I didn’t, I don’t, Eds—“ Eddie can’t even understand the rest of what he’s babbling, it’s incoherent, strung tight with snot and saliva and tears, but it renders too much. Steve finally reaches out for the trash can, hurls harshly, and drops to his knees with his grip still on the can’s lip.

Eddie crouches beside him. Hand on his back, on his forehead. Holding to him firmly, ignoring how sweaty and cold he is at once. A part of him withers at how he made things worse. It wasn’t his intention, to make Steve worry this bad, but he definitely instilled that fear. And now he needs to just glue back together what he cracked.

When Steve is able to calm down, collapsing heavily against Eddie, does he speak softly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I guess we both used our words wrong. I’m just so worried about you, I swear. This isn’t—I would never lead you on about a break up. And that’s not what this conversation is, I promise, Stevie.”

Steve sniffles noisily. He koalas himself around Eddie, burrowing his face into Eddie’s chest. He’s still shivering, sweaty, and weak. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“I forgive you, Steve.” He holds to Steve tightly. Crushing him in closer, not caring how it makes his back ache or his knees scuff the floor. Doesn’t care about how Steve’s tears soak through his shirt or the sure mess of snot left behind. He squeezes Steve’s back and states softly, “I’m just so upset that you think you have to be fine. That you can’t ask for help. That you have to deal with everything on your own.”

“I—“

“Please just talk to me, Steve. What’s going on? I just don’t understand where you’ve gone, you know? You’re so tired and angry and tense all the time. You don’t want to talk to anybody. You keep pushing us away, closing yourself off. But then you don’t take care of yourself,” Eddie rambles, his voice growing weak and choked. “I’m sorry that I—I don’t know how to talk about this without sounding like an asshole. I’m just worried. Worried that…That something’s terribly wrong.”

The implication of Vecna is not lost between them, if the way Steve tenses says anything.

Carefully, Steve pulls himself away. Staring wide and timid at Eddie. Before he breaks with another cry of, “Everybody keeps dying, Eds. The nightmares. They keep—I can’t sleep. I see it everywhere.”

“What do you see?” Eddie asks, voice shaking. Please don’t say that clock. Please don’t say the clock, Steve. Please, he internally pleads.

“Death,” Steve whispers. “Everywhere. In everybody. I see…Nancy drowning and Robin beaten and Max broken. I see you covered in blood with chunks of you missing and you don’t look at me, you just look over my shoulder and you’re gone by the time I find you. I just see it. I can’t—I can’t stop seeing it, Eddie.” He curls his hands tight into Eddie’s shirt, nearly ripping it off of his back. “And I’m always alone,” he hiccups. “Alone when I wake up. And so I leave, I drive around, I wait to see if anything bad happens. But I can’t sleep.”

Eddie brings a hand and swipes back at Steve’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He leans in and leaves a gentle, sticky kiss to the skin. Pulling back, he offers, “When you’re ready for bed, you find me. Call me so that I can come over. Or tell me to come get you.” He cups Steve’s face, holding him between his hands. His cheeks that are splotchy red, tacky with tears. Eyes hazel and shiny and slightly defeated, yet hopeful. Eddie tickles his thumb over the bridge of Steve’s nose, his cupid’s bow, between his eyebrows. “Stevie, baby, I never want you to think you’re alone again. Ever. Seeing you so distraught all the time was killing me, but I’m here to help. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

“But…I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself, Eds,” Steve argues quietly.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Eddie states. “You’re not supposed to be alone, not all the time. And if laying with you until you fall asleep safely, or showing you how fine everybody is, making you a sandwich or doing the dishes—Whatever, whatever helps you out, I’m willing.” He presses another soft kiss to Steve’s lips, the tip of his nose, on his forehead. Murmuring, “You helped me. It’s my turn, don’t you think? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Steve shrugs. “Am I supposed to just sit around?”

“You don’t have to, but you could relax. Watch a movie or do something that’s not exhausting,” Eddie explains. “Being independent, you know, doesn’t mean exerting yourself at every possible moment. Or ignoring things that bother you. Or hiding your hurt. It means seeking help, even if you do it on your own. It means sticking up for yourself, even if what’s hurting you is you.”

Against Eddie’s palms, Steve sighs through his nose. “Okay,” he mutters. “Can…Can we take a nap? I’m really tired,” Steve tentatively asks.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll find my soft pajamas for you, too.” He stands, offering out his hands for Steve. Tugs him up. And when they’re at eye level, “Steve?” Eyes on him, zeroed in and focused. “I want you to bother me. Be a nuisance. Take up space.”

“Are you sure?” Steve murmurs. “I can be a lot.”

“Loving you means loving all of you, sweetheart. Even the excess parts. Which, by the way, aren’t excess. Because I love taking care of you, despite what your brain is surely telling you,” Eddie says. “Come on, I’ll take care of that can while you lay down.”

He’s glad he noticed. But he’s happier at the sound of Steve’s soft snores, puffed over his bare neck, and the drool that will surely dry on his collarbone.

——— Drabble Prompts Ask Game

[hauntedestheart]

Ruining Valentine's Day (Male Bodyswap)

Belated Valentine's Day story I threw together- fair warning, this one features heterosexual couples and explicit straight sex!

"Hey babe, sorry I ruined Valentine's Day," Trent said to his girlfriend.

Vanessa pressed her lips together and said nothing, just barely managing to disguise her displeasure with her boyfriend. Ordinarily whenever she got into this mood he would just take her into his muscular arms and carry her to the bedroom for some incredible makeup sex, but at the moment he was physically incapable of doing that so she was just left to stew in her anger.

Trent had never been the brightest bulb in the drawer, but it wasn't like Vanessa was dating him for his brains- the only things she was interested in were his good looks, his rock hard abs, and his huge dick. Unfortunately those were all of the things that his latest blunder had taken away, and now he was stuck inside of the considerably less impressive body of his nerdy little roommate Chester.

And worse, now she was stuck spending Valentine's Day with him while he was like that.

"I don't know why you agreed to test that machine with your freaky roommate," she said derisively, referring to the botched science experiment that had switched the pair's bodies. She'd never liked Chester so she glared daggers at his mousy face- Trent was behind it at the moment, but she was mad at both of them so it didn't really matter. "Those things never cause anything but trouble."

"Hey!" Trent crossed his skinny arms in protest, marveling at the novelty of how it felt to do so without bulging biceps or ample pectorals getting in the way. "I told you babe, I was trying to earn a little bit of extra cash so I could take you out on a nice date!"

Actually Trent would have agreed to do it for free because they were buddies, but Chester insisted on always paying his test subjects and Trent wasn't one to say no to a little bit of extra cash. He made a decent living as a part-time model, but with the money he'd gotten from Chester he'd been able to book them a reservation at a swanky restaurant- not that it mattered in the end though, because Vanessa refused to go out and be seen with Trent while he looked like Chester.

"Well, thanks to your brilliant idea we can't go out at all," she grumbled, rubbing at her forehead as she fought an oncoming headache. "You're such an idiot sometimes!"

Trent tilted his head to the side, upset by the sight of his girlfriend getting so stressed out, and tried to resolve it the only way he knew how.

"Damn, I'm sorry babe! I know I fucked up, please don't be mad," Trent sauntered closer to Vanessa and reaching up to put his arms around her shoulders, leaning in to nuzzle his lips against her neck- though he had to stand up on his toes to do so. "I'm fine chilling just the two of us tonight... maybe instead of dinner we can just... skip to dessert?"

Vanessa looked down her nose at her boyfriend (because she was taller than him now) and turned an appraising eye to Chester's body- the guy was skinny, pale, and had way too much acne for someone his age -and she pursed her lips. It was an understatement to say that she wasn't attracted to him- the sight of the freak made her pussy actively want to close up shop.

"How sweet," she said through gritted teeth, batting Trent's arms away from her and ignoring the lost puppy dog eyes he was shooting her. "But you're probably feeling weird in your new body and want to be alone, right? After all, wouldn't it be weird for you if your girlfriend slept with another guy's body? We shouldn't do anything until you get your real body back."

"Oh, of course! You're totally right babe!" Realization broke through the dim expression on the man's face, and he took a polite step back. "Sex would be weird."

She sighed in relief.

"We can just have a quiet night in instead!" He exclaimed cheerfully, and she froze. He continued chattering as he sauntered his way over to the couch, pulling out his phone to sort through takeout options as he settled in for a long night. "Like, we don't have to fool around all the time, you know? It'll be nice for us to just talk and connect and stuff! It feels like we never get to do that."

"Oh joy..." Vanessa hissed out, fighting the urge to break something.

Meanwhile...

"My darling, I'm so sorry I ruined Valentine's Day," Chester said to his girlfriend.

"Huh?" Shelby, who was currently straddling his lap and grinding on top of his cock, pulled her mouth away from his neck and stared at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled down at her- his girlfriend was so sweet to pretend like nothing was wrong, but what he'd done was unforgiveable! He'd wanted to have his emotional transference device ready in time for Valentine's Day so he could use it to show her just how much he loved her, but in the process he'd cut corners on his usually vigorous process and tested it on his roommate before it was ready and in a shocking twist of events it had switched their bodies.

He supposed it was better that it had happened with Trent than with Shelby, but still, he found the situation less than ideal. His roommate's body was so different from his own- how was he going to explain things to his girlfriend when instead of the man she'd fallen in love with, he turned up looking like a heavily muscled model? He wouldn't blame her if she took one look at how tall he was, or how big his arms were, or the scratchy stubble adorning his square jaw, and ran for the hills.

Fortunately she'd taken the proceedings in stride and had insisted that they needn't cancel their plans just because of the accident- though he suspected she was more upset than she let on. She hadn't been able to stop staring at his body all evening and had rushed through dinner, and now she was trying to comfort him by letting him kiss her.

"I'm referring to the current state of my body of course," He sighed and stared down at the musclebound body he now possessed- such a stark contrast to his usual twig-like frame -and grimaced. "You've lectured me time and time again about being more careful with my experiments but I didn't heed your advice and look at me now! The victim of a freak accident on the most romantic day of the year, and you have to shoulder the burden."

"Chester, really, it's fine!" Shelby said- again. She was a little annoyed by how he kept interrupting their make out session after it had taken her hours to convince him that yes, really, she was okay if they did stuff together while he was in another man's body, and now she just wanted him to shut up so she could enjoy feeling up his gorgeous roommate's body.

"I appreciate you being so calm and collected about this," he smiled at her, strong jaw tightening as dimples appearing on either side of his pretty mouth, and she felt her heart flutter and her vagina tingle. "I know it must be strange for you to look at me and see an unfamiliar face."

Truth be told, the only reason Shelby had agreed to go out with Chester to begin with was because she'd grown tired of being the only single girl in her friend group and saying yes to the little nerd who worshipped the ground she walked on was better than being alone. Sure, she knew she was settling, but it wasn't like she was particularly a catch either so she'd just had to make her peace with that.

But for once, one of his idiotic blunders had worked out in her favor. A 10/10 guy like Trent was way out of her league, so she was going to milk this opportunity to be up close and personal with him for all it was worth! The longer Chester took to switch them back, the better.

"Oh yes, absolutely, it's so weird," Shelby lied, her eyes flicking down hungrily to his toned body again, and she ran her hand down his delicious torso. "But I don't want you to feel bad so let's just stop talking about it and try to enjoy the evening, okay?"

As if to illustrate her point, she slid her whole body down the brawny expanse of his body and reached for his underwear, stripping the tight garment off of his body and squealing with delight as she saw Trent's massive penis spring out. The lust inside of her reached a fever pitch as she stared at the long, thick tube of flesh that was hard as steel and already leaking pre-cum from its swollen head, and the thought of having it inside of her was almost dizzying.

"Oh my goodness, that's large!" Chester remarked, rather pointlessly as the size of his member was plainly obvious at a glance. He shuffled uncomfortably in place, making the turgid pillar sway around heavily. "Sweetheart, I appreciate how brave you're being about this but if this is uncomfortable for you we can stop here. I can't expect you to-"

"Shhhh," she whispered, placing a finger over his plump lips to silence him. He was not going to ruin this moment for her. "Let me have this."

Lifting her body up, she positioned herself over that glorious cock and slowly lowered herself down on top of it, moaning with delight as the incredible mass pushed against her walls. Chester's puny little thing never felt like this inside!

With his real body they only had sex in the dark so she could pretend he was someone else, but she had no need to pretend now. Her eyes drank in the gorgeous man before her, his beautiful face and powerful body a sight beyond even her wildest fantasies, and she began to bounce up and down as she tried to fit as much of him inside of her as she could.

"That feels so good!" She moaned, rolling her hips around as she rode him cowgirl style. She tightened herself and felt him buck beneath her, his hips moving of their own accord as he began to thrust up into her like an animal in heat, and it was so unlike him that it made it easier to pretend that it was the real Trent she was banging instead of her annoying boyfriend.

"This position is very interesting!" he agreed- their usual sex was fairly quiet missionary so he was glad for the opportunity to experience sex from a new perspective. He was glad his girlfriend seemed to be making the best of their unfortunate situation! "But don't worry, I promise you I'm working as fast as I can to find a solution to this predicament. I'll be able to make love to you in our normal fashion in no time!"

"Well don't-" She cut herself off with a grunt, barely managing to speak between panted breaths as her body was rocked by their lovemaking. The last thing she wanted to think about in that moment was boring sex with the real Chester. "Don't rush. No need to put so much pressure on yourself you can- fuck -you can take your time."

Another spike of pleasure hit her and she let out a curse as she lurched forwards, grabbing onto to the pronounced shelf of Chester's pecs for support (because her boyfriend had pecs right now!) and digging her fingers into the muscles for dear life. He reached out to steady her and the press of his strong hands into her sides did a lot for her.

"You're so big," she groaned, relishing the feeling of Trent's huge cock penetrating her deeper than Chester's ever could, and at that he paused in his motions. "Oh my god you're so fucking big."

"Oh dear, is that an issue?" He asked, a worried expression on his face. Glancing down, he saw that he'd bottomed out and the considerable length of his roommate's cock was now buried in his girlfriend. "I've noticed that's Trent's genitalia is rather unwieldly compared to my own, is that a problem for you? Do you need me to stop?"

"No no no no no," she hissed out, clenching herself around him so he wouldn't be tempted to try to pull out and rob her of the incredible sense of fullness she was experiencing. "It's fine just- just don't stop doing that thing! Keep going!"

He nodded and his hips jumped back into action, a steady rocking motion, toned ass flexing beneath him as he used his newfound muscles to thrust his cock with trained efficiency. But while Chester's body was currently a fucking machine, his mind hadn't quite caught up yet, and he continued cheerfully blathering on even as his hips slammed into his girlfriend.

"I must say, it's fascinating," he said blithely, his voice doing nothing to betray the pounding that he was delivering. "It appears that I've inherited his muscle memory! This must be the fashion in which Trent is accustomed to performing intercourse- his muscularity and the dimension of his penis allow for a degree of power and positioning unavailable to my own body." He casually observed the way that his muscles flexed as he pumped, a visual reminder of the new strength that allowed him to rock his girlfriend back and forth so vigorously. Trent's body certainly was impressive! "The scientific implications of this technology are incredible, don't you think so Shelby?" He paused and glanced at his girlfriend, who had a strange look on her face that he'd never seen before. "Shelby?"

Shelby didn't hear a word he said- she was beyond words at that point, completely lost in ecstasy as she felt that glorious cock drilling into her again and again. This was the type of sex she had always wanted, the type of man she had always wanted to be with, and she stared at clung to his boulder-like shoulders as she rode the crest of that excitement to a screaming orgasm.

Because his scientific mind was so detached from the proceedings Chester wound up lasting impossibly long, which allowed Shelby to milk out a record breaking five orgasms for herself before he finally spilled his seed into the condom he'd insisted on wearing- he still made that same ridiculous face he always did when he came, but his borrowed face was so handsome that for once it didn't completely kill Shelby's buzz.

His mighty erection now subsiding, Shelby pulled herself off of him and laid herself across his broad chest, rubbing her face into his pillowy pecs and trying to commit the feeling of his abs to memory. Having a boyfriend with muscles was something she could get used to, and she was going to miss it when Chester was returned to his real body. She'd never quite been satisfied by him before, and after getting a chance to fuck this powerful stallion of a man, she didn't think she could go back.

"Hey, Chester," she asked innocently, tracing a finger over his mountainous bicep. "Would you ever consider... I don't know... working out?"

"Working out?" His forehead scrunched up, unintentionally making his pecs pop a bit as he quirked his head to the side like a confused puppy. "Working out what? More math theorems? I'm already on that. Let me tell you about some of the research I've been doing into the square cube law that could..."

Shelby sighed and tuned out his prattle, instead brainstorming ways she could break the machine without getting caught.

[cleolinda]

I grew up in a haunted house and I didn’t notice

This is not a story about boo ghosts or shadow people. If it were, I would have figured it out, at least.

When I say "I grew up in a haunted house and I didn't notice," you have to understand that there was a lot going on with this house. It's not the house that I've written about currently living in, the one with newspaper and soda cans stuffed where insulation should have been, the one with constant home-repair calamities. No, my childhood home was a crumbling pile of red brick built in the 1920s. Narnia was in the backyard, and the back deck was my ship on the high seas. The house was surrounded by banks of flowers, lilies and irises and roses, and it was full of creepy shit I didn’t even blink at. I loved it.

It didn't look haunted, or even particularly historical. It was almost disappointingly normal—I lived on a street with a house that had a turret, for God's sake. No, it was just old and small. There's a lot of pre-Depression houses getting torn down in these suburbs; my town has been awash in construction for the last 20-30 years as people buy up cheap old houses, raze them, and squeeze mini-mansions onto their tiny lots, all to get their kids into a good school system. It gives me a chill to think of it, but yeah, that might happen to my childhood home someday, small and plain and unassuming as it is. My pirate ship has already been renovated into an extra bedroom, the new owners told us.

When we moved into the house in 1983, though—it had clearly been renovated in the '60s or '70s; the wallpaper was hideous, and the upstairs bathroom was carpeted. Shag-carpeted. The house had closets the size of shoeboxes; my bedroom, the one with the peach wallpaper, didn't even have one. The room down the hall had four, including one cut into the wall, under a slanted ceiling tucked beneath the roof, that looked like you'd stash a witch there when the Salem HOA came by. There was a fan in the attic—well, first of all, the attic was just one more room on that upstairs floor. It was directly across from the (carpeted) bathroom, and that room (lit by one ominous, hanging bulb) was just a short corridor with storage spaces on either side, hidden behind big sliding doors. And the fan at the very end was built into the brick outer wall of the house. Like our house was functionally open to the elements, between the blades of that fan. I have no idea what the fuck anyone was thinking when they built that, and how the fuck anyone kept the wildlife out.

We certainly couldn't. Squirrels lived in the roof and bowled with acorns. It was like listening to a pinball machine at night. I have an abject horror of cockroaches because sometimes an adventurous one would fall off the ceiling in the middle night, onto me, while I was trying to sleep. (Like, try to imagine that—you’re awakened from a dead sleep by a vague, paper-light skittering sensation up and down your arm. When Pennywise comes to me, he will show up as a cockroach.) But wait! There was more! We had herds of crickets in the basement that felt compelled to jump at people. Sometimes there were centipedes! Those were polite enough to only come out at night. In the dark.

By the way, that basement was totally unfinished. I don't mean that it just had exposed beams or concrete walls. I mean that the basement had uneven, mostly shoulder-high masonry walls, and then it was just open on three sides, extending under the rest of the house. Like just dry red Alabama earth and rocks and grainy dust tumbling around in this vast, dark—it wasn't even a crawl space, a child could have stood upright in it. This child? Oh fuck no. And the washer and dryer were down there. I had to creep down there, down a rickety plank staircase, past the staring dark caverns of my own basement, through a low-lying fog of aggressive crickets, go BEHIND THE STAIRCASE, and then do my laundry there. There was also a firewood pile by an old fridge, and only God knew what was under that.

None of this was haunted. All of this was completely normal to me. This isn't even the haunted part.

So let's go back upstairs. The ground floor was lovely, homey, fine except for the time the living room ceiling fell out due to water damage. Upstairs was where it got weird. I've talked about being mildly bullied as an unknowingly autistic child; home was where I felt safe. In my bedroom upstairs, I had all those My Little Ponies and my easel with all my crayon-drawn fantasy maps and all the stories I wrote. It didn't matter if roaches fell on me in the deeps of the night; home, that's where I was happy. So when I was a young kid and I felt like a vampire was following me down the hall at night, I assumed I was just being silly.

I was aware of vampires in the 1980s as, like, the Count on Sesame Street (ah ah aaah), and Count Chocula, and Count Duckula on Nickelodeon, and the Bunnicula books that I loved. As a kid, I wasn't aware of movies like The Lost Boys or Near Dark, or any vampires that weren't broad caricatures of the Bela Lugosi look. I loved Spooky Stuff—I'm from the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark generation—but vampires didn't scare me.

But when I had to get up in the middle of the night to go down the hall to the (carpeted) bathroom, I always had the sensation that something was following me as I was going back to my room. Something Dark. Not terribly tall, maybe not even much taller than me. And somehow, I visualized this deep in my mind as a vampire. Kind of a silly one, you know, the white-tie formal wear and the ribbon medal and the cape. I wasn't desperately scared that a Chocula was behind me, but I knew that I needed to get back to my room quick, and, at all costs, I must never look back. I must never look over my shoulder or else I would See It, something silly massing in the dark—and, brother, Eurydice would have been safe with me. Never stop running, never look back.

And I'm sure all kinds of kids develop little superstitions like this. It's probably a developmental thing, like having an imaginary friend (which I also had at some point). Even as a seven year old, I was thinking, This is silly, I'm just making it up (but not looking back costs nothing. Not looking at monsters is free). And I continued to think this, until I laughingly told my younger sister this at Sunday Family Dinner one night. We were both in our thirties at that point. And my sister started crying. Like just staring at me in wide-eyed horror, her eyes filling with tears. And she told me that when she had a bedroom upstairs, there was Something in there.

I won't belabor the exact setup, but at one point, we got it into our heads that we'd like to switch bedrooms, just for a change. I was 14, and I moved to her ground floor bedroom with the flowered white wallpaper and the big bright windows, and she went upstairs and took my room with the peach wallpaper and the cool slanted roof-ceiling (and no closet).

There were three other rooms on that upper floor (and I promise you this is important):

1) One was a small, windowless room that we used as a playroom, with weird cerulean blue carpet and sky blue wallpaper, one dim light fixture, and a little door in the wall that led to dark nothing. Like, you opened it, and you were confronted by a mass of pipes and machinery and just enough space to edge leftwards in the dark. Towards what? Fuck if I know, I sure as hell wasn't going in there. I think it was supposed to be for access to the HVAC system. I don't know. It was fucked. But when I was a young child, I had cooked for my baby dolls at our plastic play kitchen right next to that door, nbd, because apparently you put me in a creepy situation and I just go, yeah, we live like this now.

(I had not ever felt alone in that playroom, but I had also been too young to articulate that. Of course I wasn’t alone! I was with my dolls!)

2) The next room was the (shag-carpeted) bathroom. It had a big mirror over the sink counter, very typical, facing a vertical mirror that was behind the bathroom door. I've heard two mirrors facing each other can create a portal for the spirits, if you believe in that kind of thing. I once did the "Bloody Mary" thing there and nothing happened, idk.

3) The next room was the bedroom with four closets, where an older family member lived with us, and when she moved out, my sister moved to that room.

?) The fourth room, not really a room, was the dark, narrow attic.

So, Grownup Family Dinner at my current house, a few years ago: my sister told me that Something had lived in the Four Closets Bedroom with her. I'm not sure if she actually said it lived in the little Hide A Witch closet or if it was just kind of... ambient. I don't know what it looked like, or if we're talking about ghosts or Something... Darker, or what. I don't think she's entirely sure herself. She doesn't like to talk about it in detail a whole lot. What I know is that she felt it was there, and she had chosen that room to sleep in as a young teenager, and not a lot of sleep was to be had.

"I never really sensed anything, like… demonic," I said, puzzled. "Just the Chocula that followed me." And my sister was like, ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF??

"What about Rebecca??" she sputtered.

Oh, yeah: Rebecca. (A name I've changed at my sister's request.) I had a friend as a teenager who liked to mess around with ouija boards (AM I LISTENING TO MYSELF?), and we did a session at her house one time wherein we discovered that the ghost of a girl? young woman? named Rebecca lived (so to speak) at my house, and she had been murdered by her boyfriend. How we arrived at these specifics, I don’t remember, but I had told my sister about it because I thought it was interesting, and also, I was kind of a shit. My friend also decided she had her own ghost named Dusty. It was all one big [citation needed, footage not found], but it was also part of our family lore.

So, many years later, my sister told me that she had long felt—without knowing about the Chocula—that there were two spirits on the upper floor of our childhood home: the dark one, and a younger, lighter one. I sat there at the kitchen table and thought about it.

"You know, I did kind of feel like there was someone up there, when I was a kid," I said. "Sometimes I would go into the attic, and it felt scary, but like there was something there watching that was okay? Like having a lamp on in a dark room, kind of. It’s weird, because it’s just a feeling, I remember it very clearly, but I didn’t really question it or wonder."

I thought a bit more.

"Oh yeah—there was also the time I just really felt compelled to go color in the playroom by myself at midnight, and it kind of felt like someone was there."

My sister stared at me, saucer-eyed, pale. Like I'm not sure I had ever seen anyone "go white" until that moment.

"Yeah, I just woke up and had this idea—I was maybe nine years old? That it would be super cool to do stuff at night when I was supposed to be asleep, so I got a flashlight and went into the playroom—"

"IN THE DARK??"

"Well, yeah. If I had turned on the light, someone would have seen it and told me to go back to bed. So I set this flashlight on the floor and got out the crayons and colored in one of my coloring books a while. Maybe the She-Ra one?"

Thinking back on it now—of course I was sitting right by the scary door. I think we all, you and I, saw that coming.

"And I had the same feeling I had in the attic. Like someone was sitting on the floor across from me, friendly, I guess I would say female, and it was cool. Like, it was chill."

My sister looked like she was about to pass out.

"I don’t really know how I could sense this then but not really say anything about it, or even think about it, until now," I said, shrugging. "I’m probably imagining it."

I’ll throw in here that one of the dolls I had in that room was a Raggedy Ann. Like, just for extra hilarity, Wee Cleo is hanging out, coloring, at midnight, with a ghost and a fuckin’ Annabelle.

So: My sister is adamant that our childhood home was haunted. And apparently I was entirely blasé about it (maybe possessed?), but then, I was dealing with a lot of suburban wildlife. My problems with that house were far more immediate. And crawly. Nor can we prove that the house was haunted—I certainly haven’t looked up any homicide records—and I don’t think that Vibes, In Retrospect, are valid evidence on my part. But I find it interesting that I knew what she was talking about. I find it interesting that I was like, "Yeah, that was chill." And I find it interesting that when I went away to college, and I lived in a dorm suite where sometimes I’d be the only person there while my roommates were out,

I remember noticing that it was the first time I’d ever felt alone in a room.

Who was that imaginary friend I'd had?

--

I asked my sister to read over this, partly because I wanted to see if she’d be willing to describe the Something Dark.

"Oh, I’ll tell you anything you want," she texted back, "but that’s not how it happened."

[wheels-of-despair]

Can't Help Falling In Love Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x You Summary: You hit it off with someone else's date at a wedding. Contains: Instant attraction, horny thoughts, Elvis covers, ditched dates, and the beginning of a happily ever after. Words: 3.5k

Youths and ageless blogs, Do Not Interact. Writer WILL block you.

"Oh god, she's actually brought the bin man."

"Hm?" you hum, forcing your eyes to slide back into focus.

Charlie, your boyfriend of 3 months, has dragged you to a cousin's wedding. You're seated at a gaudy table in a venue that's probably bankrupted the bride's parents. You're bored, you're sick of smiling politely each time you're introduced to someone who won't even pretend they're attempting to learn your name, and you're seriously considering just walking out and catching a cab and blocking this guy's number. Why are you even here?

"My cousin Chloe," he says under his breath. "She's dating a dustbin man. Mum didn't think she'd be brave enough to actually bring him. But she's such a horrific bitch, perhaps the bin man is the only one who can stomach her. This should be fun. Hello, my darling cousin!" He stands and embraces her. Her date stands awkwardly at her side in an ill-fitting suit, looking almost as happy to be here as you are.

Polite introductions are made, and the couple joins you at your table.

"So Michael, what do you do for work?" Charlie asks. So much for subtlety. Chloe glares. Michael shifts uncomfortably.

"I'm a b--"

"He's a businessman," she cuts him off. Her date stares at the tacky centerpiece.

"Oh? What kind of business?" You wonder if your heel has the power to penetrate Charlie's fancy dress shoes and draw blood.

"Erm…" Michael bites his lip.

"Finance," she answers for him, giving her cousin a chilling glare before turning her icy eyes to you. "And you, dearie? What sort of business are you in?"

You hate these fucking people.

Before you can answer, someone makes a noisy entrance that draws everyone's attention.

"Oh, Aunt Margie's here, let's go say hi!" Chloe exclaims. She and Charlie get up and scurry away toward an old lady, leaving you and Michael at the table alone. After an awkward smile and a moment of silence, you have to break it.

"Been together long?" you ask.

"A few months," he mutters. "You?"

"Same," you answer.

Silence.

"Glad we weren't the last to arrive," Michael says. Good, he's feeling this silence too.

"I was worried about us being late too," you smile. "What's your excuse?"

"She couldn't decide which shoes to wear."

"That's probably a more socially acceptable reason than mine," you laugh. "Couldn't get my door to close."

Michael's brow furrows.

"It sticks sometimes, but today, it just would not close," you explain. "Charlie yanked and yanked and finally got it to shut. If I can't get back in, I'm gonna kick his ass."

"He hasn't tried to fix it for you?"

"Does he look like the rugged handy-man type to you?"

You and Michael both look toward your dates, who are giggling in a crowd of their finely dressed relatives in an attempt to secure their surely sizeable inheritance, then back to each other to share a smirk. He belongs here about as much as you do.

"Any idea what's causing it?" he asks.

"No," you answer. "I keep meaning to look closer, but every time I'm headed out, I'm usually in a hurry. And it works fine when I come home, so I say I'll do it tomorrow… and then forget about it until it sticks again."

"A vicious cycle," he smiles, warm and teasing. You laugh, feeling more relaxed now than you have all night. "I'd start by making sure the hinges and the strike plate are tight. Do you have a screwdriver?"

"The fuck do you know about home repair?" Chloe spits from behind him. The smile on his face fades, and his eyes drift down to the table. It's like she pressed a button and shut him down.

The cousins sit back down and talk loudly about their crazy aunt, but their words don't register. You can't take your eyes off of Michael. The look on his face makes your heart ache. How do you fix it?

"That's a really good idea, about the hinges and the strike plate," you tell him quietly. He looks up at you slowly, caution shining in his big brown eyes. "I'll check those out as soon as I get home. Thank you."

He gives you a tiny smile. You want to crush him in a hug.

Wait, what?

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asks.

"My door," you answer shortly, finally breaking eye contact with Michael to survey the room full of people you don't know.

"And Michael the businessman knows how to fix it?" Charlie asks smugly. Michael's face flushes red, his eyes downcast once again. Chloe glares at her cousin.

"He had a helpful suggestion, which is more than I can say for Mr. I Don't Know, Call A Professional," you quip.

That shuts him up.

"Would every one take their seats, please, so the ceremony can begin!" someone yells from the other side of the room.

Everyone returns to their seats and quiets down, and the ceremony begins. A song plays on an organ, a bride is walked down an aisle in the distance, old ladies dab at their eyes… probably. Your attention is on the bead of sweat rolling down Michael's thick neck.

What if you just leaned over and licked it away?

He looks over at you, as if he knows what you're thinking, and smiles. Now it's your turn to blush. You force your eyes in whatever direction you imagine the vows are being exchanged and hope he hasn't actually read your mind. What the fuck is wrong with you?

When the ceremony is over, everyone stands as the bride and groom leave the room together. Sweat still drips down Michael's neck. The collar of that stiff suit must be drenched.

"Charlie! Chloe!" someone shouts from across the room, snapping you out of it.

The cousins get up without a word, leaving you alone with Michael again. Normally you'd be offended by their rudeness, but right now, you don't mind at all.

"I'm sorry about him," you say quietly. "And her too, now that I think about it."

"S'alright," he mumbles.

"It's not," you argue. "They're both being dicks. And to the only person I even like at this stupid thing."

He smiles, showing off his dimples. Adorable.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," he complains, pulling at his collar.

"Want to go outside for a bit?" you ask.

He looks toward the cousins, who are laughing with a crowd of people you have no interest in meeting.

"I think they've already forgotten we're here," you laugh.

"Let's go, then," he grins.

You grab your purse and follow him out of the crowded building, staying close as you dart past all the mingling friends and relatives, until you reach a shady spot on the backside of the building.

"Thought I was going to die in there," he pants, fighting with his tie. "How do you get this stupid thing…"

"May I?" you ask. He nods. You step closer and begin untying his tie. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. He's pulled it tight, making it harder to get undone, but you don't mind taking your time. "There we go," you say softly, letting it hang loose. He reaches for the top button and struggles in his hurry to get it open. Your hands rise to his collar once more, moving his fumbling fingers aside and quickly unbuttoning several buttons to reveal a simple chain necklace and a smattering of freckles. He gasps for air dramatically.

"Better?" you ask, reluctantly dropping your hands back to your sides.

"My hero," he grins, glistening in the light of the setting sun.

God, what is this fucker doing to you?

The band starts warming up inside, and you both instinctively glance in the direction you came from.

"Should we go back?" he asks, suddenly nervous. "She's going to kill me for soaking this suit."

"What if we don't?" you ask.

His eyes flick to yours, and your heart stops. Why did you say that? He's literally on a date with with someone else! So are you!

"What if we don't?" he repeats slowly.

You stare at each other. Those big brown eyes have a hold on you. You feel like you're falling into them. Like Alice down the rabbit-hole. The smell of him swirls through your brain like a fog; he's sweaty, but not in an unpleasant way. It mixes with whatever cheap cologne he's splashed on to make something unmistakably male. It's intoxicating. You don't realize you're actually moving closer together until your lips meet his. They're so soft. They work with yours, not against them, in a dance that weakens your knees and makes your heart flutter.

A shrill laugh nearby brings you back to reality. You're suddenly aware that you're pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. You take a step back and glance around nervously, wondering if you were seen. You can hear other people talking around the corner, and smell the pungent flowers growing on the walkway nearby. The band is playing something vaguely familiar. You listen closer, and recognition dawns on both of your faces at the same time: "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley.

Without a word, Michael reaches for your hand. You slowly take it, and place your other hand on his shoulder; his comes to rest in the small of your back. You begin to sway with the song, just the tiniest bit, never taking your eyes off of his. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. There's something about the intensity of his gaze that makes you forget everything else. There is only Michael.

And his rock-hard erection that you just brushed against.

"Fuck," he groans and backs away, "I'm sorry."

Your eyes glance downward to the python he's trying to conceal, then back to his eyes.

"You want to get out of here?" you ask.

He stares at you for a few seconds, eyes wide and fearful. Did you blow it? Of course you blew it, you both came here with other people. They may be dicks, and you've been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks anyway, but…

"You're serious?"

Fuck it. You nod. So does he. And then you both laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"I, er… I rode here with her," he mumbles, chewing on his lip.

A wicked thought occurs to you, and you dig in your purse and pull out a valet ticket.

"Guess who shoved his valet ticket in my face while he was ogling a pretty blonde he's probably related to?"

"He did not," Michael says, taking offense on your behalf.

"It's alright," you smile. "It all worked out in the end."

Michael grins.

"Come on," you laugh, reaching for his hand. You take the long way around and eventually find the valet lot. You hand over your ticket and wait for your ex-boyfriend's car to arrive.

"Woah," Michael says when the ugly sports car comes into view.

"Daaaddy bought it for him," you roll your eyes. "Wanna drive?"

"What?" His eyes dart from the approaching car to you. "Really?"

You shrug.

"You serious?" he asks.

"I mean, you can drive, right? You've got a license?"

"Yeah?"

"Then what's the problem? Scared to defile two of Charlie's possessions in the same night?"

He seems stunned for a moment, then a grin grows on his pretty face as the car comes to a stop.

"No problem at all, miss," he smiles, darting forward to open the passenger door for you. You sink down into the seat, he gently closes the door. He thanks the valet and hands the man a few bills. You fasten your seatbelt to keep yourself from slipping and sliding all over the leather seat.

He gets in and looks around, trying to get his bearings in the strange little vehicle. He inspects the gear shift and locates the turn signals, then pets the steering wheel and looks at you with a child-like grin on his face. You lean back against the headrest and sigh fondly, never wanting to take your eyes off of him. He's adorable.

"Where to?" he asks, straightening and suddenly serious.

You point him in the direction of home, and he takes off. He's a little awkward at first, but he gets the hang of the car in no time. He even grows confident enough to drive with one hand, and rests the other on your leg. The feeing of his rough, calloused hand on your smooth thigh nearly drives you mad. The ride takes entirely too long, and you admire your self-restraint for not telling him to pull over and take you on the hood of this tiny, stupid car.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally parks near your building. He turns off the engine, takes a deep breath, and looks at you with uncertainty.

"You still want to do this?" you ask quietly, praying that he says yes.

"You have no fucking idea."

"Let's go, gorgeous," you order.

He leaps out of the car and rushes around to open your door for you. He helps you out and follows you into your building. You make it up the steps and fumble with your keys, cursing your stupid door that won't open. You're about to offer to let him take you in the hallway when he gently moves you aside, applies pressure on the knob with his hands, and pushes with his shoulder. The door pops open.

As soon as you step inside, his mouth is on yours. You drop your purse and kick the door shut, and he pushes you up against it. You moan into his mouth. You can't remember the last time you wanted anyone this bad. And that includes the entirety of the relationship you've just abandoned.

There's no time to walk all the way to the bed. Hell, there's no time to shuffle to the couch. He takes you against the door the first time, your dress rucked up and his pants unzipped. He ruts into you with such force, you wonder if it's going to break the door in half. And then he reaches a spot inside of you that you didn't know existed, and you stop caring about anything but him.

You lose the rest of your clothes and make it to the couch for round two.

You don't make it to the bed until round three.

That's when it happens.

You'd happily stare into those beautiful brown eyes all night long, but he hits a rhythm that has you both squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. All you can do is grip whatever's in reach and hold on tight as you feel your release build… and build… and build…

And then a blinding flash of pleasure washes over you. You've never felt anything like it before. Is this what writers mean when they say someone saw stars? Michael keeps pumping in and out of you, and the feeling doesn't stop. An ungodly noise rises in your throat, and he buries his face in your neck and comes with a grunt and one final thrust, his deepest yet.

Your ecstasy fades slowly. You can't move. You can't focus on anything but the way he makes you feel. You lie there, panting and sticking together for several minutes, until he finally raises his head to look at you. You both laugh when you make eye contact.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," you breathe, feeling weak and a little confused.

"Never had that happen before."

"Never had what happen before?" you ask.

"Made a girl squirt."

It hits you like a ton of bricks. You raise your head and see that you are indeed lying in a wet spot on the sheets.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you laugh as your head hits the pillow.

"I mean, I've tried, but…" he shrugs, looking embarrassed.

You reach a hand into his sweaty curls and pull him in for a kiss. He looks happy, but confused when he pulls away.

"I've never had a guy do that to me before, either."

"Seriously?" His eyes are ablaze.

"Yeah," you laugh.

"That was a first for both of us?"

You nod, basking in the excitement on his face that you helped create. He leans back down for another kiss, which you enthusiastically return. When he pulls back, you can't help but feel disappointed. You cup the side of his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb, not ready to be apart just yet. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. Will you ever be able to get enough of him?

"Wanna try for a second?" you ask.

"Oh fuck," he moans, coming back down to continue your kiss, already getting hard again.

While you're recovering from another blissfully successful round, someone starts banging on your door.

At 2:37 am.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you gripe, rolling out of bed and throwing on the first clothes you can get your hands on. Michael looks terrified. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about him," you tease, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "I'll be right back.

You leave Michael in bed and stomp to the door. You know exactly who it is. "What?" you snap through the door, reaching up quietly to engage the chain lock. Just in case he's grown a pair in the last few hours.

"You fuckin' left me, that's what!" Charlie roars.

"And it only took you all night to notice!" you chirp sarcastically.

"Is the fucking bin man in there with you?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I fucking knew it! You nasty whores deserve each other!"

"You kiss your boss's ass with that mouth?"

"Open the door."

"It's stuck."

He groans loudly and kicks it.

"Yeah, that'll help," you deadpan. "What do you want?"

"I want my shit, you crazy bitch! We're done!"

"Ask me nicely."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

You laugh and leave him to his tantrum as you fetch a paper grocery bag and begin shoving his stuff inside: body wash, deodorant, razor, a few articles of clothing and a shirt that you'd definitely used to sop up some of the fluids you and Michael had leaked onto the mattress.

Michael sits on the bed with the sheet wrapped around his waist, looking fearful. You give him a wink before you leave the room. You pick up some of the clothes you'd scattered across the living room floor, looking for the car keys, and finally locate them underneath Michael's pants. You toss the keys in the bag, fold the top down, and grip the knob. You open the door just enough to slide the bag through.

"There's your shit. Don't come back."

And then you shut the door in his stunned face, lock it, and return to bed.

Michael still looks nervous. You crawl into his lap and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Don't worry about him," you smile, "he's a spoiled brat who throws tantrums whenever he doesn't get his way, but he's harmless. Rich kids can't fight for shit. You, though? I bet you could scrap with the best of 'em."

Michael bites his lip and stares off to the side. You cup his face and stroke his cheeks, wishing he'd tell you what's bothering him.

"You know I'm not really a businessman, right? I'm just a bin man."

You laugh and capture his lips in a kiss, remembering to mumble an "I know, baby," at some point, which makes his whole body relax. You fall back onto the bed together, limbs tangled and mouths hungry.

You ride him 'til dawn.

The pair of you finally begin to wind down as the sun starts to rise. You lie facing each other, satisfied and sticky and too tired to do anything about it. You wish you could stare into those beautiful eyes forever, but sleep is calling you.

"If you want to clear out before I wake up, it's alright. I'll understand," you say softly. Inside, you're screaming and begging him to stay. But what if he doesn't feel the same?

He thinks about it for a minute, biting his bottom lip. "Would it be alright if I stayed?" he asks, almost like he's afraid of the answer. The feeling of relief that floods through you is so intense, you wonder if you're going to pass out. "I can fix your door in the morning," he adds quickly, like he needs a reason to stay.

"You don't have to do that," you smile. Worry clouds his face. "But if you really wanted to, I'm sure I could find some way to repay you," you smirk. His eyes widen. "Would it be alright if I made you breakfast?"

Now it's his turn to be relieved. He smiles and throws an arm over you to pull you closer.

"Would it be alright if I never, ever left?" he mumbles into your hair.

"Yeah," you sigh, getting comfortable in his embrace. "That'd be alright."

[suguru-getos]

Birthday Lovings | Bakugou x Todoroki x F!Reader |

A/N: This post is for my baby @bakugoushotwife for her birthday. <3 (Yes I posted early I wrote this on my work laptop). I love you and I hope you like being loved by these two dorks! No warnings as such, this is an extremely fluffy (almost Diabetes inducing fluffy excuse me :P) They just love you so much and want to make your birthday special. <3 I thought of creating a mood-board to make you familiar with the aesthetics we have going on here :DD

Shouto knew better than to be impatient, yet, he couldn't help but sigh looking at the clock. "Don't understand what's taking her so long." His childish dismissal evident and biting as the Blonde gremlin next to him scoffed. "Learn patience on your own before I shove it where the sun don't shine." Shouto bites back quite instantly, "All you know is how to sound useless, do better and be more creative dull head." After tolerating each other since high school; Bakugou and Shouto have grown used to each other. Each have their own unique traits to exhibit where they show you love. It was exactly 10 pm of the day before your birthday and Shouto Todoroki was getting annoyed. The veins of his forehead popping up and flaring, though his counterpart was seemingly chill. Sometimes the tables turn on these two, and you're the only one who knows them this intimately who can figure that out.

"She'll be here." Bakugou scoffed, clearly annoyed.

They have spent a lot of time decorating the house after all. Shouto wanted to see how much you'd like it. If… you'd like it. "Cute." Katsuki snickered under his breath, rolling his eyes. They had decorated the entrance with metallic balloons in grey and white, with strings and bells of the accentuating undertones. The whole house was decorated with roses and was a literal paradise. Musk and vanilla scented candles all over, waiting to be lit up and the cake as massive as your wedding cake. They wanted the 12 am of your birthday to mark the celebrations quick and clear.

Here you were, stuck at work and the two hero gremlins who's heart you own… restless and needy.

Shouto finally texted you:

Shouto [10:19pm]: Where are you? Snowflake [10:21pm]: I'm on my way, I'll be there soon!

Katsuki chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Told ya, we'll fuck her shitty boss up if he tries to make her stay late today."

Shouto nodded, a gentle and relaxed smile plastered over his features. This sounds, nice… you'd be here in no time then! How quaint.

They waited patiently, Shouto leaning his head against Katsuki's shoulders as they sat on the couch dressed up in a white button up with blazers scrolling through TikToks. "The worst thing is these edits made by fans." Katsuki scoffs, "Taking my words completely out of the context." Shouto laughs, "If  you want me to listen then get on your knees and beg? Who says that to a villain? You should know that would be surely taken out of the context." Bakugou rolls his eyes, scoffing and scrolling further. They were extremely popular heroes, each famous for their powers but also their behaviours. On one hand we had Dynamight - the symbol of strength, the symbol of bluntness and to stand true to your opinion. His fans admired him for his good looks, powers and of course his ability to be so direct and without any filters. The other hand we had Shouto - symbol of strength and gentlemanliness. Famous as the elegant hero who is refined and almost aristocratic and exudes charm like no other. Politely speaks and still can get menacing when needed. Girls dig that. Too bad both of them are literally married to you.

Their thoughts and conversations were cut off with the door knock. Both of them lurched up, looking at each other with a shit-eating grin. "Kay, she's here. Good s' almost 12" Katsuki beamed, walking towards the door and opening it for you.

You walked in, suddenly engulfed by the scent of his cologne, while Shouto lured around too as both of them say in unison. "Welcome home!" If you had a bad day, you couldn't really do anything but give into the harmonious and contagious happiness and excitement both of them showcased. You smiled, cheeks dusting red as the decorations reflected in the browns of your eyes. "Oh my god- this- this is a lot! You guys" You blushed, getting a tad embarrassed with how extensive and extra they've been. "Shut up shitty woman!" Katsuki laughed, carrying you over his shoulder before you could absorb the decorations done in your name. Your birthday which was about to commence… "We got just the perfect fit for you, Darling." Shouto echoed, walking beside Katsuki towards your shared bedroom. The red satin dress laid down on your king sized bedroom, with three Tiffany and Co. boxes which had matching jewellery, lingerie, perfume, and of course dainty heels that would complete the look.

You gasped, chuckling at how the diamond set laid there serpentine, they really planned a lot. No wonder you watched them on their phone's showing each other things secretively three weeks before your big day. "I chose most of the things" Bakugou lied through his teeth, and Shouto frowned. "Hey- that's absolutely not true!" Immediately cutting Katsuki off with a pouty glare. "We decided things together, we had to brainstorm a lot. The things I liked, he didn't. The things he liked, I didn't." Shouto stamped the truth on Katsuki's face and yours. Katsuki was only teasing after all, nodding with a softened grin to accept Shouto's truth. "I see, I see… thank you Daddies. You both have been so cute." You almost whine, heart swelling at their efforts and their little banter. Oh how did you get so lucky? "Go change." Katsuki playfully spanked the mound of your ass, though it's not as playful because it stings just right. You roll your eyes and change in front of them… no shame in rewarding with how much they've done for you. They both look at you the same way they did when they first saw you naked. Shouto has a little dusk on his cheek, Katsuki is a little wide-eyed. Their stares turn from awe to a potion of parched predators mingled with loving worshippers. It’s something words would fail to describe. Teeth-baringly unique to Bakugou Katsuki & Shouto Todoroki when they glance at your beautiful body. "I'll rip those off after." Katsuki pointed at the lingerie and called dibs on it in front of Shouto. "Shut up, now isn't the time for that." Shouto chided him, acting refined but his core burned when you slipped the dress on. "Alright little one, get ready and Shouto and I, would go prepare stuff up." "Okay, I won’t take long, I promise." You comfort, seeing it was 11:30 PM on the clock. Hearing that calms Shouto's nerves significantly. Little perfection freak amalgamated with the other Blonde Perfectionism Freak.

They go outside after you kiss them on the lips, letting them wander around your body that grounds them, that makes them realize what they want to protect so bad.

Once you finished getting ready, you walked outside to the lit aisle of roses, champagne bottle decorated along with the dinner food on one side of the table; the other having your birthday cake. "This is all so fucking cute!" You wiggled in place, giddy like a child. Shouto likes capturing moments, hence you were recorded coming out from your bedroom. Bakugou walked towards you, hands snaking to hold your wrist and the other around your waist to pull you close, gravely whispering, "Happy birthday." It was dot 12:00 AM. You almost teared up at the sincerity of his wish, while Shouto walked in too, kissing your forehead deeply. "Happy birthday, wife." "So happy to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me the luckiest man on this earth." Shouto chimes, kissing your cheek and chuckling when you evade eye-contact because their sincerity is making you tear up. There have been random discussions about how you haven't really spent a proper birthday. You didn't really rant about it or such, but your men are perceptive after all. "We've planned a fuckin' bash for ya!" Bakugou grins, "this one's just for the family. Just us… then tomorrow we'd party our asses off. Don't give a shit if we're blacked out by the end of it." Shouto rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "The last time you were drunk you were telling her to piss off cause you're wifed up." You snickered with Shouto at the pouty Katsuki. "You half and half bastard you were fucking calling me with your phone saying you lost your phone SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Oh they can be such messes when they're drunk. "Alright, but I get to choose who we invite!" You strike again and they nod diligently. Before you could speak further, both of them held each hand of yours, letting you stand near the cake & giving you a custom gold-plated knife, iced with diamonds. "Fuck that knife- this is so beautiful why're we even using it?" You almost were baffled, blinking at the degree of 'extra' this was. "S' a gift from yer lame best friend and her dumb bird brained idiot." Katsuki rolled his eyes, and Shouto smiled, "I like it, no idea why it's a knife though?" "Cause she said she wants to be a part of a family celebration so she'd shove an object in the ceremony." Bakugou cackled, impressed by the clinginess of your friend.

"Alright, let me cut the cake. Shut up you two! I love this knife." You almost roared, giggling and cutting the cake while they both hummed a very fine-tuned, melodious and almost acoustic version of the song 'Happy Birthday'. There was an acoustic music, serene and relaxing playing in the background while you held back from tearing up. They can be so nasty with their love towards you, spoiling you & making sure you know just how much they love you. There was one time, Shouto said something that suddenly echoed in your mind as you chose him to take the first bite of the delicious dessert. "If you were cold and burning the world would provide you warmth, I will not think twice." It was one of the days when you had a bad day, and were sitting silently on his lap while he played with your hair. Now you know, he's fully capable of doing that. The second piece goes to Bakugou Katsuki himself, a force to reckon with. He might've not said anything but you know he will cause disasters in your minor problems. How do you know? Oh it's simple, he's almost glossy eyed every time you whine at something as little as a period cramp. He can't see you in pain and he can't see him being helpless about it. You find him using rage as an outlet when he feels so. So Katsuki of him.

"Happy birthday Princess." Katsuki echoed again, leaning in and stealing a passionate kiss.

"Happy birthday, dear Snowflake." hummed Shouto, hugging you extra tight causing you to whine in a whimper with giggles, stealing a kiss after.

"Let's go have dinner." Shouto coos, looking enamoured and whipped. "Then, yer gonna be daddy's dessert." Katsuki snickered, while you rolled your eyes with a grin.

"Course, I will be. I love you two!"  

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

sulani: set sometime after this

cw: while i tried to deal with it in a light way (without trivialising the issue), this does allude to consent. nothing happens, everyone’s wishes are respected, and no one is persuaded/pressured to do anything. just in case the subject may understandably be triggering for some though.

(also while I did my best with @akitasimblr's leo harper - or rather my homebrand cc free knock-off - nothing he does is canon unless Ana says it is!)

* * *

"Looking good, Leo. Why, thank you, you handsome devil. Have to say, Ms. “I’ve done more mucking out than messing around” was not the contestant I was expecting this call from. But we all saw her in that bikini. I would hardly refuse."

It was at this moment, Araminta knew that she had fucked up.

(Oooh, he is going to hate me. And completely ruin my chances with Dodo, if not my entire reputation simply out of spite. I know his type too well. Still, Minty. An explanation is owed - and an apology. You come from two long lines of royalty, so you must have a spine somewhere. Find it.)

"I have to say, this was an unexpected surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Can I get you anything? There’s a chardonnay chilling that will knock your socks off. And a few other things too, but we can take our time with that."

"..."

"Uh, Minty? I assume we’re on pet name terms, or we’re about to be. If it’s the chardonnay, I can have something else brought up."

"... .... ...."

"Listen, between you and me, when you get us five star celebrities between the sheets? We’re just Some Guy. Well, some of us anyway. I have it on good authority that Thorne Bailey for example is the worst woohoo. Like not even one star. So don’t be nervous! Assuming that you’re nervous because it’s me." 

(cue Leo's own math lady meme moment)

"Orrrr are you nervous because you’ve changed your mind - and you don’t know how to tell me?"

(looks up at him hopefully)

"Well, I’m taking anything other than shoving me onto the bed as a resounding ‘no, I’m not into this anymore.’ Why don’t I check on that chardonnay, and you take a moment? If I end up having the entire bottle to myself, that’s okay."

"See? It was fine. You are fine. Pull yourself together, Araminta."

* * *

"I… didn’t mean to text you. Your profile pictures look exactly the same."

"Funny how that works. So, you thought that you were texting my brother? And in spite of having at your fingertips the hottest commodity in the entire Simsverse - ie. my own personal private number - you decided that you’d rather attempt a night of passion with that doofus instead?"

"Well... yes?"

(leaves unsaid that there wasn't even a decision to be made. also - ahem. dodo is not a doofus, thank you.)

"But Watcher, everyone knows that I’m the sexy twin!"

(tactful silence)

"I am so terribly sorry, Leo. And quite frankly, mortified. I’d tear up my contract right now if I could."

"Contracts don’t work like that, Princess. Trust me. Don’t sweat it. It’s nothing to leave the challenge over. I can’t promise that I won’t laugh at you later or bring it up on the show at some point, but apart from you being a boring do-gooder, we’re cool. Deep breaths."

"I did, er, bring some wine myself. It’s an aged Chestnut Ridge red from our cellar, and I had thought that Dodo-"

"Totally wasted on him. Give me that."

"Thank you, by the way, for being so nice about this."

"Nice? Ha. I thought you lived on some Henford estate, not beneath a rock. But I’m not a creep. If you don’t one hundred percent want to be here, then I don’t want you here. Period. Go downstairs and get a massage or something. It looks like you need it."

"I may do just that."

"Wait - let’s check that you have my brother’s number right. You may have picked the wrong twin, but there’s nothing wrong with your taste in wine. And if you and Dodo don’t work out, then I’m always happy to mentor a promising up-and-comer." (winks)

"I’ll, uh, bear in mind that generous offer."

"No you won’t. You’re just being polite. Now scram. I’d totally smack your arse on your way out, but the Watcher is too cheap for that pack. And if you ever tell anyone other than Dodo that I wasn’t a total dick to you, I’ll spread a rumour that you once drank white wine with red meat or some other shit that would totally ruin your good name within 'polite' society."

"Plum, she really was that surprised at me being cool with her not wanting to sleep with me. The bar for men is so low, it must be in fucking Selvadorada. Here’s to being the sexy twin. And to all my daughters hopefully being lesbians."

"Hey, this is really a nice vintage. Nice girl too, unfortunately. But I could have fixed her, Watcher..."

[valentine-writes]

Spot nation is here humbly requesting again u-u One of your recent works breifly touched on The Spot getting protective over an upset reader. Would love to read your take on expanding that concept. :^] Make it as lighthearted or serious as you like! Maybe the reader has to tell him to chill out instead. Like, we love you queen but take it easy. No worries if this isn't smthn you want to do! Loving your writing in general! Take care :>

:(

「 tws + notes: POSSIBLE FLASH WARNING FOR THE GIF BELOW THE CUT?? (jus to be safe!! idk if this is needed or not-), no tws, unedited, super silly moment from me im not in a slash srs mood 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. johnathan ohnn/the spot

author's note: AUWWHJWAB HELLO!!! u are so so polite omg thank u so much ! ^_^ i luv tha enthusiasm i've been seein from spot nation tbh!!! o((>ω< ))o i'd be happy to expand on that hc! im gon make it a little teeny tiny bit more lighthearted becuz i luv myself some silly hcs but here we go!! super duper soz if itz a bit short anon </3

▸ i think i like writing the spot as a silly lil dude who is jus tryin so so hard. but also he did work for Fucked Up Evil and Co. (alchemax is just brimming w/ all sorts of brilliant minds with horrifying ideas in the name of science. kingpin ran this shit and would not have it any other way) like he's not beyond being an absolute menace he just didn't have the means for it at the beginning of the movie. so we're gonna keep it lighthearted and silly but,,,

we're gonna keep this in mind too, yeah?

▸ you're incredibly dear to him. he's become a little more protective than he usually would be (can't have you being taken away from him! not after literally everyone else in life life ditched–) and it's just the littlest bit unhealthy.

he really does mean well! you just find yourself reminding him to dial it down a bit.

▸ especially after he's gotten a hang of using his powers?... he's got the means to keep you from harm. he may still be insecure about his appearance, but those thoughts can be (temporarily) satiated when he knows what he can do.

the power at the multiverse, in the palm of his hand

i mean. you can't expect him to not want to defend you with it.

▸ you remind him, time and time again that he really doesn't need to check up on you that frequently. in spite of this, he can't help peeking into a portal, just to check on you here and there.

"i swear to you, i'll be fine." you tell him, time and time again- and he trusts you, he really does. but it doesn't hurt to be absolutely, positively, 100% certain, right?

▸ on the days you're upset because of a particularly bad day (not specifically conflict with people, just little things or internal issues, etc, etc... the Horrors,,,,) he offers the support he knows that he'd want.

if you're a person who's obvious with their emotions, he's pretty okay with picking up the cues you're not doing fine. will start up a conversation and then awkwardly ask if you're doing okay.

it's a little more tricky if you're subtle. overtime, he learns what to look for- little signs that indicate you're not doing well- and ensures that he's straightforward in asking about how you're feeling.

and sometimes, he able to sense that something is off. there's a tension in the air neither of you want to talk about, a feeling in his bones that he can't quite shake. he dislikes this the most. mainly because it's easy to attribute this feeling to overthinking. he'll check up on how you're feeling anyways. even if it takes a while to muster the courage.

without fail, he feels his heart break a bit when you look up at him with the saddest expression he's seen on your face. your frown is almost painful to see :(

he's got a very formulaic strategy in his mind that he uses to help you deal with bad days

something like this mefinks,,,

[ step a: he starts by asking what's going on with you... ask how you're feeling and all that. if your mood is negative, he'll try to ask why and if you wanna talk about it ]

if you choose to take up the offer, go to step b. if you refuse, go to step c.

[ step b: listen! provide support, be attentive. he'll let you rant, scream about it (ok maybe not too loud though, but,, y'know. if it helps, it helps), cry- anything. if you do cry, go to step d ]

[ step c: distract!! distract, distract, distract. you got a favourite comfort show or movie? he tells you: hey, you haven't watched it in a while (even if you have), why don't we put it on? your favorite video game? he'll play with you! talk about your favorite things or talk about nothing while you grab a snack or drink. he knows avoiding stuff isn't gonna work for long term problems, but he's more than willing to cheer you up ]

[ step d: SILENTPANICSILENTPANIC... internally he's just kinda freaking out because it's hard to see you cry. he's not awful with comfort- just a little stiff, y'know? much better with distractions. but in the event of you crying: he'll rub your back, wrap his arms around you. or give you space (depending on what you need) probably goes "hey, no, no no- it's okay, it's okay-" while attempting to soothe you. gives you time to cry it out while he babbles reassurances under his breath. ]

he really does try his best (´꒳｀。)

▸ if you're beefing with someone and it's making you upset, he'll listen to you complain about them. out here nodding and agreeing with you like he was there to witness. again, he's got your back!!

(this part partially inspired by @//spdrslayr 's posts!!) in interest of cheering you up,,, you two make fun of the person.

if you're someone to openly bitch about someone and aren't afraid of getting a little mean behind someone's back,, he's making fun of them too.

of course, if you're like "noo,, but like,,, that's mean-" he's quick to remind you what they did. like they had the audacity, there's no need to be sorry.

if you're consumed by harrowing guilt anytime you're remotely rude (even behind someone's back) he'll tone the jokes down. just a little. he can be VERY a little out of pocket.

likes watching you try not to lose it, stifling laughter, as you share a moment over mutual hatred for said person

"hey– that wasn't.. that wasn't funny–" you're snicker, doing very little to hide the obvious smile on your face. he loves seeing your face brighten, the frown on it now replaced with a grin you just can't hold back

he's gonna crack jokes about them randomly too in your conversations. he's good at holding a grudge yeah,,, but at least in this case he's funny abt it. it's lowkey starting to sound like he was wronged instead of you.

▸ if someone hurts you? that's a whole other story. (hehe. whole- my bad.)

being inconsiderate, rude, and mean to you is one thing, but bringing physical harm to you?

he can't stand the idea that someone would want to harm you. it doesn't matter what happened in the events leading to it. he knows you didn't deserve it. he knows it. the minute he sees the tears stinging in your eyes,, the bruising on your body– the blood–

someone's going to have to answer for it.

(but im not talking abt him tryin to rock someone's shit becuz that would be 10x longer blehhhh :p)