#task 84

[onesnoopyaday]

Snoopy #84

24/12/2024

[maeamian]

We can still make rocket engines tho, like we can't make the Rockedyne F-1 anymore for a variety of reasons including it's wicked outdated by this point, particularly since the fall of the soviet union introduced staged combustion to western engineering techniques, but it isn't some great tragedy that we can't make that particular rocket engine tbqh, we can still make rocket engines.

[colesworldofmath]

Systems of Equations: MEGA Teacher Resource with TONS of Engaging Activities

[new-berry]

See I don’t just want Levi Colwill in t’ north because we need to keep our backline sexy. He’s quite good.

England not getting it together and Bellingham trying too much. What a combo! He’s young eventually he will care as much as an officer worked having a new computer system introduced.

“The training is fun and interactive guys! It’s online!”

[girlwithrituals]

101 ways to improve self esteem

1) Master a new skill.

2) List your accomplishments.

3) Do something creative.

4) Challenge your limiting beliefs.

5) Talk to a counselor.

6) Don't worry about what others think.

7) Read or watch something inspirational.

8) Stay true to your character.

9) Let go of negative people.

10) Set healthy boundaries with others.

11) Care about your appearance.

12) Welcome failure as part of growth.

13) Be a lifelong learner.

14) Face your fears.

15) Become a mentor.

16) Accept compliments.

17) Eliminate self-criticism.

18) Practice coping skills to manage stress and big emotions.

19) Notice negative thoughts and beliefs.

20) Challenge negative thinking.

21) Think about what you learned from negative experiences.

22) Practice gratitude.

23) Exercise.

24) Eat healthy and limit junk food.

25) Get good sleep.

26) Spend time with positive and supportive people.

27) Encourage yourself.

28) Write a list of your strengths.

29) Don't compare yourself to others.

30) Avoid perfectionism.

31) Do at least one positive, enjoyable activity every day.

32) Celebrate small victories.

33) Be helpful and considerate to others.

34) Be honest with yourself and others.

35) Accept your flaws.

36) Don't give up.

37) Practice self-care.

38) Go easy on yourself.

39) Practice being assertive.

40) Practice saying "No".

41) Practice relaxation techniques.

42) Take on challenges.

43) Volunteer to help others.

44) Forgive others and yourself.

45) Set goals and work toward them step by step.

46) Seek balance in all areas of your life.

47) Discover your passions and purpose

48) Groom yourself.

49) Dress nicely.

50) Be kind and generous to others.

51) Practice good posture.

52) Change a small habit.

53) Smile.

54) Don't procrastinate.

55) Don't take things personal.

56) Organize your personal space.

57) Challenge unkind thoughts about yourself.

58) Spend time outside.

59) Notice the good things.

60) Celebrate your successes

61) Write a list of things you like about yourself.

62) Don't take too much on.

63) Do something for yourself every day.

64) Develop daily habits.

65) Remind yourself it's okay if not everyone likes you.

66) Practice mindfulness.

67) Learn to tolerate discomfort.

68) Use problem-solving skills.

69) Take responsibility instead of blaming.

Tell Yourself Positive Affirmations Such As:

70) I am grateful for every day.

71) I am worthy of happiness and love.

72) I am in charge of my own happiness.

73) I love, respect, and believe in myself.

74) I deserve to be happy and successful.

75) I approve of myself, right here and now.

76) I am learning and changing for the better.

77) I accept 100% responsibility for my own life.

78) Every day in every way, I am getting better and better.

79) I can learn to accept the parts of myself that I don't like.

80) I am thankful for my challenges as they make me a stronger person.

81) Write down three positives about each day.

82) Make a collage with your talents, goals, and dreams.

83) Practice laughing.

84) Be proud of yourself.

85) Say mistakes are an opportunity to learn.

86) Show respect to yourself and others.

87) Resolve conflict peacefully.

88) Ask for help or support.

89) Complete a daily task list.

90) Have a growth mindset.

91) Be optimistic.

92) Treat yourself with kindness and compassion.

93) Focus on the things you have control over and can change.

94) Get started on tasks you have been putting off.

95) Practice good daily hygiene.

96) Focus on solutions not problems.

97) Talk about your feelings with someone you trust.

98) Drink plenty of water.

99) Start a new hobby or join a club/sport.

100) Do random acts of kindness.

101) Create a dreams list.

[hyckstarz]

breaking the rival code | l.mk

pairing. rival!mark lee x afab reader

word count. 6.1k

genre. smut · enemies to lovers trope · humour

synopsis. Mark had a way of getting on your nerves, to the point you'd even considered shutting him up for good. However, your best friend eventually planted a seed in your head that fucking your rival, and breaking the unspoken code, would be enough to finally end the long-standing feud.

warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, fingering, use of pet name (baby), choking, oral (fem receiving), haechan as best friend and instigator

A/N. i had this buried in my drafts for months but it had me screaming into my own pillow whenever i read it so, it couldn't stay unpublished for long.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Mark Lee," she's fuming, as per usual. Eyebrows tightly knit and throwing daggers with her hard glare while Mark just laughs, "It's due next week, and you haven't even written up a plan?!"

Mark rolls his eyes, his glasses almost slipping down his nose, doodling absentmindedly in his notebook, "Relax, that's 168 hours of time to work on it, it's nothing."

She sinks back into her chair, crossing her arms in that arrogant way — as Mark would describe it, "Actually, it's less than 84 hours if you factor in sleep, other classes you have to go to, and fucking surviving. Mark, do you take anything seriously?"

Mark rubs his face in frustration, facing her, "It's the first year; none of this counts towards our grade," he goes back to doodling small Spider-Man caricatures but, as always, he can't resist having the last word, "And you're too serious, princess. Live a little."

Small things like that always set her off. She was aware of how she came across but, when it involved Mark, she only ever saw red. She somehow manages to calm herself down, realising they're in the campus library and already earning a few curious, judgemental stares.

"Mark...," she manages to whisper somewhat loudly, leaning in close enough for him to feel her minty breath against his skin, "Can we please get most of this done today? I'd very much like to be free of your presence."

Mark chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes slowly drifting over her subtle features, raising a brow in amusement — the weight of his gaze caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Finally, he gave in and pulled out his laptop. He began clicking through their assignment brief and taking notes down, surprising even her, who started doing the same. As English literature students, it was a given that they had to read a stack of novels and articles, even for an assignment worth 0% towards their final grade.

Yet even small victories in their relationship were rare. It was a miracle that they were somehow able to work through the tasks efficiently, though that moment was short-lived before they were at each other’s throats, with Y/N starting it again.

"Mark, we're meant to critically analyse, not describe. Do you have any working brain cells in that thick head of yours?" Her fingers twitched, as if to hold herself back from clenching her fists and knocking some ounce of sense into him.

He rolls his eyes in response, jaw hardening as he scowled at her, clearly not in the mood for their usual back and forth, "We need to have a synopsis of the texts, I don't know how else you expect me to include all of the relevant info without having a short paragraph in there."

She simply looks at him in disbelief, shaking her head as if he'd just said the most absurd thing ever, "Mark... do you really think we can afford a whole paragraph just on a summary?"

He just chuckles in response, clearly uncaring. She leaned forward, her fingers digging into the desk and turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure. Mark’s casual smile only fuelled her irritation, but she lets out a heavy sigh, judgy eyes flicking across his face.

"You're like those pretty dumb blondes; the only thing you've got going for you are your looks, sorry to say," she sneers, going back to taking notes, but she internally curses at herself for admitting she found him at least objectively attractive.

Mark pauses, head snapping to her, his eyes flicking over her features, trying to decipher what she'd just said, or if he'd even heard her correctly under the hushed whispers of the library. He spins the pencil in his hand, eyes narrowing at her as a smug expression tugs on the corners of his lips, "You think I'm good looking? I'm flattered."

Y/N gives him an exasperated glance, snorting at his sudden change in demeanour and sitting up to look at him straight on, "I know you took me for a fool, but a blind one too? Damn," she said with a sarcastic lilt.

When Mark doesn't respond, just a cocky smirk widening — his gaze intense — she feels her heart rapidly beat against her chest and, as a way to hide the effect he has on her, she rolls her eyes for the nth time that hour, clearing her throat and focusing back on her task, "If you weren't so annoying, or if you learnt how to shut your mouth and do things correctly, you'd have a lot more going for you," she sends him a glare, "But you don't, so your looks only take you so far, and that's below average in my books."

He mocks in response, "Wow, you read? How surprising."

This time, she couldn't hold herself back. Mark did have a way with getting under her skin, so well in fact, that it led to them being asked to leave the library, only furthering their frustration and anger towards one another.

It wasn't always like this, either. When Mark had first met her, he was a shy, slightly awkward teenage boy and, the first impression she had of him, was cute. He was incredibly sweet and outgoing; it was easy for him to make friends and that meant they easily got close too. The only problem was, they were so alike in all the wrong ways. He was just too competitive and stubborn, always aiming for the top, and so was she. It was only natural that friends turned to rivals, competing with one another over everything. With that being an understatement.

From whom could get to the cafeteria the fastest, to who could submit their assignment the earliest and get the highest grade? It was competition, after competition. Most would get exhausted after the first two or three, but for them, it was thrilling, though they'd never admit that to one another.

"I can't believe your loudmouth got us kicked out of the library," his jaw hardened as he met her intense gaze, "Can't you sit still and take comments with some sort of, I don't know, strength? Because clearly, you're so sensitive over such simple, meaningless words," He slings his bag over his shoulder, already walking off.

Only further proving his point, she chases after him, tugging at his arm so that he wouldn't get away.

"You're the one who can't let things go either, always needing to have the last word, what are you, a child?" she crosses her arms and nods her head with a questioning brow, as if to say, 'go on'.

Mark just scoffs, about to walk off before turning around, his hands moving in frustration as he glares down at her, "You- you're such a pain in the ass, you know that? You really know how to drive me crazy."

He's panting, frustration evident. But it was the way he was looking at her that threw her completely off balance. His narrowed eyes flicked to her lips, brows furrowed as though he were etching her features into his long-term memory. She felt her heart drumming in her chest.

Before she could respond, a familiar yet equally as annoying mutual friend of theirs appears, snickering at the pair and their usual quarrelling, "Jeez, can't you two just fuck already?"

"Shut the fuck up, Haechan" they both say in unison, tearing their gaze away from one another with a scowl.

Haechan only snorts, glancing between the pair with an amused brow, "Clearly there's some sexual tension that I'm interrupting here, it would explain why you look at each other like that," He leans in-between them, as if to reveal the biggest secret in history, "I bet you two dream about each other too — in, you know, that kinda way."

Mark just stands there, mouth agape and in disbelief at the absurdity Haechan was spewing, looking between the two. Y/N just scoffed, grabbing the man by his bag and pulling him away without so much of a word. Haechan waved a chaste goodbye to Mark as he was being dragged off to God knows where.

Someone was going to die today, and it was definitely Haechan.

It was quiet. Way too quiet. The coffee shop was empty, hence for the low whispers of the baristas in the far corner, and a cheeky Haechan sitting before her, happily drinking his iced tea after telling his two closest friends that they should fuck each other. She groans, letting her head fall into the palm of her hands.

Usually, this coffee shop was a place where she could find peace and solitude. It was bright, with large windows that let light in all throughout the day, creating a florescent streak of amber and pink through the thin stickers attached to the panels. The colour schemes could easily brighten one's day as whites and pinks peppered along the walls.

The foliage brought life to what would otherwise seem like a cold, simple design, and the bakery added a subtle hint of beige, creating a natural environment. But the best thing about any coffee shop, was the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and the sounds of the machine working, or even the quiet conversations. Though, sounds were non-existent today, except for her constant groaning, which started to bother her best friend.

"If you make one more frustrated sound, I'm leaving," he takes another sip of his cool drink, "Is it because of what I said earlier? Just know, I wasn't lying, that would definitely help you two."

She pulls her hands away, pursing her lips as she started twirling her straw, watching the milk mix with the coffee and caramel, "No, it's because I'm... I don't know, frustrated?"

Haechan glared incredulously, "Clearly."

"Not like that, I meant... I miss how Mark and I used to be, how we would laugh at silly jokes, or talk for hours without it having to turn into a competition, but now everything he says or does has a way of getting under my skin," She takes a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling at the taste, "He could just be sitting there, doing absolutely nothing, and I'd I just want to-"

"Want to what?" Haechan asks, ears perking up, waiting for a gotcha moment.

"Well, what I usually do." She shrugs, going back to her drink.

Haechan takes everything she says in, nodding his head slowly, "Anyway, it's sort of funny as Mark said the same kinda thing to me the other day...," Haechan takes a sip of his drink, whining when he finds it empty, "He said he missed the old you, or when you guys used to be friends."

She pauses, meeting her waiting friend’s gaze. Her brows furrow. Mark... missed how they used to be? But she doesn't say anything to Haechan, keeping her thoughts to herself.

The usual smug expression returns as he leans back in his chair, leg bouncing under the table out of habit as he crossed his arms behind his head, "Anyway, as I said, you need to get your frustrations out in other ways. You clearly have a thing for each other. The way you express it is a little... unconventional, but you're both immature, so I'm not surprised."

She simply looks at her friend in disbelief, lips parted as she gapes at him, to which Haechan only grins annoyingly at her. He also had a way with words, just like Mark, except he seemed to understand boundaries a lot better, and was chill enough to not want to fight back.

"What? Please tell me you two at least have moments of either flirting with each other or checking the other person out-"

"No." She scowls, shivering at the thought. Though, she couldn't help but remember the way he'd looked at her earlier, brushing off the thought, "It's hard enough to even look at him without wanting to strangle him."

"Okay, so you're into choking, got it." Haechan chuckles, nodding as if to make a mental note of it.

"No, I'm not into that! Whatever, look, I don't have a thing for him, so just drop it." She looks at him with a serious, intense gaze, as if to emphasise the fact she really didn't want to talk about this anymore.

Her friend only nods, putting his hands up in mock surrender, "Okay, just know Mark would definitely jump you if he had the chance — I mean, which guy would put up with your shit? No offence."

She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink in hopes it would be refreshing enough to block out her growing irritation, "Anyway, the sooner I get this assignment done, the sooner I can move on from this Mark topic."

She quickly pulls out her phone before Haechan could drop in another one of his grand ideas, finding Mark's contact and immediately sending him a text. She almost spat out her drink at how fast he had responded.

You: Let's just get this assignment done with. I don't feel like getting kicked out of yet another establishment, so just come over to mine tomorrow or something.

You: *sends her address*

Mark: Fun.

Mark: I'll be there around 4 if that works

You: 👍

She bit her nails anxiously, eyes glancing between the door and the clock on the wall - each tick of the hands signalled it was only getting closer to 4, which was when Mark said he would arrive.

That wasn't why she was anxiously boring holes into the clock, however. She could curse the heavens, the earth and the 12 Olympians, but instead, she chose to curse the lust demon himself, aka Haechan. She buried her head in her hands, tugging at the roots of her hair in frustration. She can't believe she dreamt of Mark last night for the first time and, it wasn't just any dream — which was the worst part. Why did her mind have to be so vivid and make Mark so incredibly sexy? She had no idea.

When a knock came from the door, she stood up a little too quickly, rushing to it and praying that Mark looked far from presentable than he had been in her dream. But he wasn't, of course. She'd never seen him in jeans before and the green hoodie was the cherry on top. She swallowed hard, peering up at him as he adjusted his glasses.

"Are you going to let me in?" He raised a brow, his dark eyes glancing over her features in suspicion, taking a quick, subtle glimpse at her plaid sweatpants and pink t-shirt that didn't do much to hide the outline of her bra. He swallowed hard, tonguing the inside of his cheek in annoyance yet, the only thing that swirled in his mind were thoughts of how fucking attractive she was without even trying.

His annoyed expression grounded her temporarily, falling back into her usual demeanour as she rolled her eyes and held the door open wider for him, "If I catch you slacking once, I'll kick your ass out of here."

Mark gives her a side eye, frowning before kicking his shoes off, "Are you trying to motivate me not to do the work?"

She laughs sarcastically, leading him to her room as she props herself on her bed, noticing Mark looking over her interior.

"I expected your place to be put together, but not drenched in pink," his gaze trailed over her shelf, taking note of the various photo frames and mini ornaments.

She chuckles under her breath, pulling out her laptop and notes, "What, too girly for me?"

He turns his gaze to her, a quiet silence envelops them for a moment, and she takes that time to admire him. She knew he was attractive — objectively — but never had she looked at him in that way. The kind of way that made her heart and mind race.

Mark finally straightens up with a shrug, sitting down on the edge of the bed and getting his things out as well.

It felt strange having Mark in her home. If it weren't for getting kicked out of the library, her apartment would have been the last place he would be at. Though, now seeing him sat almost politely at a respectable distance from her, typing away on his keyboard quietly, made it start to feel right somehow.

She opened their shared document, reading the notes he was typing up. Even though he tended to be a lazy ass — or a procrastinator, as he would call it — there was no doubt he had a way with words. When he really put his mind to something, he would always deliver quality work. At times, she'd look back on why they had turned rivals, or enemies, and then she'd see what a complete genius he was. Maybe it was always her. Maybe she was just jealous that, no matter how hard she worked, Mark would always be ten steps ahead.

"I wrote up all the notes," Mark's voice cut through her thoughts, "How far did you get?"

She turned back to her laptop, pursing her lips at the blank screen. When she took her time responding, Mark scrolled down the document to where her cursor was and sent her a deadpanned expression, "What did you say about slacking off...?"

She doesn't know whether to laugh or smack him, so she picks the secret third option and scowls, "I did more work than you yesterday."

"That's old news," he sighed, looking through their to-do list, "I thought you wanted to get this assignment done and dusted because... what was the reason again? Oh yeah, you wanted nothing to do with me."

She scoffs, sitting up as she points an accusatory finger at him, "Don't act like you don't feel the same way."

Mark clears out the already completed tasks on the list, colour coding the other bullet points to distribute the work evenly between them, "Oh I do, and I wonder why." He doesn't even spare her a glance.

"Go on."

"Maybe it's because you continuously bitch over every little thing, it's no wonder Haechan is the only friend you have and, it's probably because he's waiting for some kind of green light," Mark's bitter words reeked of jealousy as he spoke through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me?" She shrieks before she leans over the bed and grasps at his hoodie, his hand immediately grabbing her wrist, "That's too far, Mark, even for you."

He raised an unamused brow at her, fingers tightening on her wrists, yet she doesn't waver, "Maybe, but I'm sick of it. All you ever do is complain and treat me like some sort of idiot and, when I give you the same energy, I'm the problem."

His voice is tight, jaw hard as he doesn't break the eye-contact. She pulls him in closer, anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach, "What a joke, you're just as much of a problem as I am and, you know what? Maybe Haechan was right, maybe we need to fuck for us to finally pull our shit together."

The moment those words leave her lips, she regrets them. From up close, he was even more attractive that those words naturally came out. Mark's eyes widened comically and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

His brows furrowed, "Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually suggesting that?" his voice carried a disbelieving tone despite his cheeks growing redder by the minute.

If it weren't for the dream she had last night, or that stupid green hoodie he was wearing right now, she would have laughed it off as a joke or even knocked him out in hopes he'd forget what nonsense she'd just spewed. However, all she could think about in that moment were his hands gripping at her plush thighs, spreading them apart as he lodged himself between her legs, his soft lips parting against hers desperately. She swallowed hard.

"Yes, I am suggesting that," she doubles down, the words more confident now. She knew she wanted him, even if he drove her bat-shit crazy. Even if he'd think she's bat-shit crazy.

It was almost laughable how wide Mark's eyes had gotten, his lips parted in shock, "you're fucking serious, Y/N?" This was too cruel of a joke from someone like Y/N. He knew she would rather curse him out than make absurd suggestions such as sleeping with each other. And the more he thought about it, on top of the intense gaze she carried, the more he believed she was being serious.

She leaned in, her warm breath fanning against his skin. She could smell his musky cologne — it was a scent she felt she could easily get addicted to, "I am serious, Mark," her big, doe eyes peered up at him through her lashes, "Hell, I even dreamt of you last night thanks to that blabby-mouthed Haechan."

Mark suddenly grows flustered, averting his gaze. She dreamt of him? His words practically came out like a croak from the nerves, "H-hey, that's a little..."

She raised a brow, waiting for him to continue his sentence yet he'd only grown quiet, his jaw clenched as he processed the situation. He felt his throat go dry and, the way she was staring at him made him feel breathless - a little too out in the open under her gaze. It was taking everything in him to hold back, but their shared history and his growing annoyance towards her kept him stuck in place.

"What? Mark, don't be a pussy," she scoffed. Despite her harsh words, they had rolled off of her tongue like honey, "Do you want this or not?"

Mark's head whips to her, his brows furrowed, "I am not...," the words faltered on his tongue as his hands came to rest behind her on the bed, his nose brushing against hers. He was way bigger than her, his arms caging her in, looming over her, "I'm not as much of a loser as you think I am, Y/N," the words were bitter; however, he felt like he was falling too deep.

Being this close to her, with her wide, surprised eyes staring back at him, her flowery perfume more prominent at the proximity, and her warm breath... He couldn't find it in him to deny it anymore, "Fuck, I do want this," he muttered, the whispered confession slipping past his lips before he himself could process the words.

At that, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing his nose fully against hers, "I want this too." Her soft words drew him in like a moth to a flame and it felt like the string that held onto his sanity had snapped.

Mark pressed his lips to her glossy, pink ones that tasted like cherry, breathing in her flowery scent, to which she parted her lips against his in response. His hands gripped at the soft flesh of her waist, pulling her in impossibly close. He tasted minty, mixing with his musky cologne and it was like she couldn't think straight anymore, losing her grip on reality and, instead, losing herself in him. In Mark. Her supposed enemy and rival.

It didn't take long for her to pull him on top of her, her back falling against the mattress whilst her leg rode up his side, hooking over his hips. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, nipping at her skin and down the valley of her clothed breasts. She was going insane, and it was his fault, "Mark, take off my damn shirt already," she groaned in frustration, sitting up.

He didn't waste any time. Stripping off her shirt, he subtly admired her plush breasts which sat pretty in her lilac laced bra, barely leaving anything up to his imagination. As much as she got on his nerves, he couldn't deny the effect she had on him by being effortlessly gorgeous even as her brows were tightly knit. He pushed her back down onto the bed, planting his hands on either side of her head, "Are you always this demanding?"

"Only with you," she mutters, tugging at his hoodie impatiently, to which he chuckles, taking it off. She couldn’t help but gawk at him, sending him a glare for being more attractive than her dreams could ever do justice.

He kisses her again, his hand trailing down the side of her breasts, not giving her time to run her mouth. Then, his hand pulls the bra down, letting her breasts slip out as he cupped and kneaded the soft mounds, groaning into her mouth at how they fit perfectly in his hand. He rolled the nub between his fingers, grazing his thumb over them.

Mark kisses down her body, taking a nipple into his mouth — biting and tugging at it as his hand continued to twist the other between his thumb and index. He relished in the soft sounds that escaped her lips and the way she tugged at the locks of his hair.

He continued to move down her body, his finger hooking under the waistband of her sweatpants as he met her gaze, "I know you beat my ass over this, but you sure this is what you want?"

She deadpanned at him, "You just made out with my breasts, Mark. If I didn't want this, I would have stopped you there."

Mark just rolls his eyes in response, slipping her sweatpants down, "Could have just said yes."

She's about to retort when she feels his hand cup her, finger tracing the clothed slit of her pussy and she has to bite her lip to stop her from making a sound. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction so soon. Didn't want him to know just how badly she wanted him — more than she'd like to admit.

However, Mark was as stubborn and competitive as she was, and he wouldn't hold back until she gave in. He pushes her underwear to the side, leaning in so that his warm breath fanned against her sensitive folds, causing her to whimper.

'Fuck,' she thought.

Mark, without warning, slowly licks a stripe up her slit, his flat tongue drawing out a shudder from her — back naturally arching. Each time, he'd go in for more, slowly bringing up the pace. Her thighs clamped around his head, holding him hostage until he groaned and grabbed onto her plush thighs, pinning them to the bed; fingers leaving marks along her soft skin. Her own fingers grabbed at anything they could, from the sheets beneath her, to the healthy lock of hair on his head, letting them knot around her digits and tug with every wave of pleasure he had given her.

She could feel his cocky smirk as he sucked on her clit, enjoying every moment of her falling apart on his mouth. Falling apart for him. When he pulls away from her, she let's out a frustrated whine to which Mark only laughs at, "Open your mouth."

She sends him a skeptical look, "Fuck no."

Mark's patience wears thin, "Don't be a stubborn brat now."

Surprisingly, she obliged and he pushes his fingers past her plush, kiss-swollen lips. Her mouth suckles on the digits, tongue swirling around them, and he retracts his fingers with a pop.

"Fuck, your mouth really does have uses other than spewing insults and demands," he teases, voice low, tracing her entrance which had her letting out shallow breaths.

"At least it has more use than your fingers-" her words cut short when he pushes his finger in, palm pressed to her clit as he looks up at her with a 'you sure about that?' look.

It doesn't take long for Mark to add a second finger, curling them in search for the spot that would make her see stars. And then, he finds it, and she let's out a sharp gasp which only grows louder when his lips wrap around her clit, continuing his earlier ministrations of lapping at her folds like a man starved.

Just as her dreams failed in visualising just how attractive her nemesis was, it had also failed in expressing how utterly, impossibly, and irritatingly good he was with his hands, lips, tongue-

"Mark, fuck-!" She starts to tense under him, eyes pierced shut as she chases that feeling of ecstasy.

"I believe I'm getting there...," Mark chuckles, the vibration of his voice fluttering against her.

And, just as she starts to see the twinkling behind her eyelids, the light at the end of the dark tunnel, and a glimpse of the heavens, Mark pulls away, leaving her empty, wanting, and embarrassingly needy.

Forget Haechan, Mark was the number one man on her hit list.

In a second, he's over her again, cupping the back of her neck and lifting her slightly up to kiss her. She can taste herself on his tongue, feel the way his lips apply just the right amount of pressure to say he's here, and it's so soft, so gentle, so wanting — it was the perfect contrast, the perfect contradiction to the image she'd created in her mind of him. His thumb brushes against her jaw, fingers tangling in her hair, before he pulls away, forehead resting on hers as he breaths against her.

His eyes flicker open to gaze down at her; warm and oh so inviting. It felt like the Mark she once knew. The genuine, loving and calming person. Though his next words threw her completely off balance, and she was quick to retract her claims.

"I'm going to fuck that sexy, infuriating attitude out of you, baby," he lets the pet name draw out. In every other context, with any other person, she would have cringed at that word, but it felt so undeniably attractive coming out of his lips, that she wanted to hear him say it more than once.

Mark got up off of the bed, pulling out his wallet to fish for a condom that had been in there for God knows how long, chucking it on the bed next to her and kicking off his jeans and boxers in record speed. She barely had a millisecond to admire the sheer length of him before he was on her again.

His deep brown eyes kept their hold on hers and she could see a subtle hint of affection; the space between his brows crinkling in focus as he slowly pushed into her. His calloused fingers pressed along her waist, leaving white marks along her curves, while she could feel every ridge, vein and pulse of his cock.

When he bottomed out, she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in impossibly close. Needing him closer to her. She could feel the rough planes of his body pressed to her soft ones as he started to rock against her. He gripped her thigh, pushing it further up so he could angle himself better, remembering the spot that had her seeing stars earlier.

Each time he'd hit that spot, she'd clench naturally, rocking her hips to meet his that had him softly groaning by her ear. He smelt so good, felt so good, was so good. She felt her mind start to fog up, jaw slack from the loud, erotic sounds that forced its way out from her throat. It was too much in the best possible way.

That wasn't as far as Mark would go though, he wouldn't stop at just good. He wanted best. His hand snakes up her body, gently wrapping around her neck — thumb pressed to her jaw — as he applied enough pressure to her pulse point. She knew then that maybe she did actually enjoy being choked or, at least, enjoyed anything Mark did.

She throws her legs around his waist, pulling him down, desperate to feel more of him, to reach her release she craved, pride long forgotten, "Mark... Mark, fuck- please..."

Mark pressed a sweet, uncharacteristic kiss to her cheek, "Please what, baby?" he brushed the strands away from her forehead, never halting his movements.

"Need more of you...," She could barely get the words out, but Mark knew exactly what she meant. Without time for her to process, he flipped her onto her stomach, pressing her face against the pillows, fingers tangled in her silky hair as he snapped his hips into her with more strength.

She could have sworn she started hallucinating seeing stars in the room from how deep he was reaching in this new angle, hitting her spot with added ease. Her glossy lips stayed parted against the pillows, drool staining the cotton case as she let out soft grunts.

Mark's head rolled back at the filthy sounds of her and how fucked out she looked. It made him want to carve this scene into the deepest part of his memory, "You're doing so good for me... So pretty like this."

His soft voice did not match the roughness of his fucking, but it made her clench around him, "C-close..."

Mark hummed, grabbing locks of her hair and tugging it back so that she arches against him, "Be a good girl and come all over my cock, then."

She nods eagerly, reaching behind him to grab at his hips, urging him to go faster, harder. She chased that release as if seeking closure from her pent up frustrations at Mark and hers usual bickering and challenges. She sits up to lean against him, knees pressed to the mattress and head rested on his collarbone — his own arms wrapping around her body. Finally, she came, body shuddering in his hold and, at the feel of her convulsing around his length, Mark bit her neck, muffling his sweet sounds as he followed suit.

They stayed like that for a while, panting, hair sticking to their foreheads. She wouldn't be close to exaggerating by saying this was the best sex she'd ever had, but she would also blame that on the sheer tension they carried for years around one another.

When Mark slips out of her, she fully expects him to make some usual smart comment, but he only pulls her with him as he lay in her bed, keeping his arms around her, "Who knew we'd be so compatible?"

She snorts, "I can name at least one person," she thinks of her best friend, the whole reason this night even happened and speeding up the process between them.

Mark smiles, snuggling into her and letting out a soft sigh, feeling sleep catching up to him, "I hope this isn't just a one time thing, though," he says suddenly with a soft voice, "you don't know how long I wanted this for. Wanted you. It drove me insane trying to be... I guess, respectful and casual about it all."

She sat up, turning to look down at him with a playful look of disbelief, "I call bullshit, you weren't respectful about nothing. Not that I'm complaining, it's attractive seeing you annoyed."

Mark rolls his eyes, smirking at her, his cockiness returning, "I knew you found me more than just objectively attractive, you're down bad."

She easily admits it, "Yeah, I am. But you're in way deeper for asking Haechan for advice of all people."

Mark immediately sits up, his face pale from the shock despite his cheeks being flushed, "Dude- Wait, what?"

"We're on dude terms now after you fucked an outline of my body into this mattress?" she scoffs, her crude words making Mark increasingly more flustered than he already was, "The choking kinda gave it away. I just know Haechan threw that in conversation with you."

Mark laughed sheepishly, pulling her into his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "Guilty as charged. Though, I'm proposing we get back at his arrogant ass by not telling him a thing. We'll slowly drop hints to mess with him a little — see how long it takes for him to catch on."

"I'm in," She giggles, feeling sleep overtake her as she nestled into Mark's chest.

Before today, neither of them would have imagined that fucking each others rival would be the secret to finally ending the long-standing feud and breaking the rival code.

© hyckstarz

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anothology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist | cw: oral (reader receiving)

Part Ten: Permission

A/N: We're SO back!

You’ve never been so happy to work an extra day.

Johnny gets the shop to himself on Sundays for walk-ins. Usually, he mans the shop by himself but you need to record the cash income from the convention in the ledger. Sure, you could do that during your usual hours the upcoming Wednesday and catch up on sleep, but you have too much nervous energy coursing through you. If you were home you would just be stewing on your couch the hole day and probably spiral into a panic attack. At least here, with a task and Johnny yapping in your ear, you don’t have to think about the fact that you made out with your boss too much.

Fuck. You really did that. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You woke up in a cold sweat, fingers brushing over your lips as you tried to decipher if it was real or dreamed. If you really kissed John, if he really held a hand on your lower back as he walked you home, if he really gave you a second, light peck before saying goodnight. The itch of his beard lingers, as well as the warmth where his hands cupped your face. It felt so good. So fucking good.

Then the context settles in. The fact that you kissed your boss makes you want to throw up - not for any dislike of it, just the fact that your job is now in limbo. Hanging in the balance until you can talk to him on Wednesday. At least you can take the next couple days to collect your thoughts - come up with a good apology that will hopefully let you keep your job and some semblance of dignity. Somehow make sense of the fact that you’ve kissed John and Kyle and surely when they find out they’ll think you’re a floosy. Loose and easy and pathetic and gross. You couldn’t quite meet your own eye in the mirror as you tried to get ready for the day.

The current, formerly “Future You” is not very happy with the now Past You. Frankly, you’d like to deck her for leaving you in this state of a permanent heart attack.

“Och, I’m about tae melt.” Johnny mutters, appearing from his room and stretching. His shirt rides up, exposing a thick happy trail that does not help you in your current spiral.

You just hum, gluing your eyes to the physical spreadsheet in front of you as you go through the sales from the convention. Numbers will clear your head. Yeah, nothing less sexy or more distracting than trying to do math with pen, paper and a TI-84 calculator.

“We should go get some ice cream.” Johnny leans over behind you, causing you to jump. Large hands settle on your shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of your head. At least Johnny is always touchy, you don’t have to read into it. You don’t think you could handle reading into it right now.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” You murmur, letting him lead you out of the office and flipping the out for lunch sign. You’ve been so lost in your head the entire day that you can’t fully pull yourself out of it - the same spiral of fears and self-degradation swirling around in your mind. A Cat 5 tornado of your own making. So stupid.

Johnny intertwines your fingers as you make your way down the street. Your hands swing lightly as you walk. Even with the heat, it doesn’t feel like too much. You’re not sure what it is - of you’re just comfortable or if Johnny just has something about him that makes touch feel perfectly natural - but it’s never overwhelming. Even when he’s hanging off you like a leech, it’s just Johnny. He doesn’t make you talk, doesn’t pry into why you’re so spaced out. He probably just thinks you’re tired. You are tired. So tired.

You don’t realize Johnny is saying something until he gently elbows your side. “Huh?”

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“Oh, uh, I can get my own-“

”My treat.” He shakes his head, batting away the hand pulling your wallet out of your back pocket. You have no choice but to give in to him - there isn’t any point in arguing with Johnny.

“Thanks for suggesting this.” You murmur, as you sit at one of the wooden, outdoor tables in front of the shop a couple blocks down from the tattoo parlor. The tables are covered in the shade of trees and an awning, luckily, keeping the sun from beating down on you. It doesn’t stop your ice cream from melting nearly faster than you can eat it, but you don’t have the heart to complain after Johnny took you out and bought it for you.

“Aye. Seemed like ye needed some cheerin’ up. Never seen ye so sullen.” Johnny comments, casually stuffing a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. His eyes are sympathetic, though.

“Oh.” You thought you’d been doing alright at hiding it - came into the shop with a jokes and everything this morning. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much Johnny actually notices between all his volume and energy.

“Gonnae tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Might help.”

You shake your head. “I- I’m- I can’t.”

“Okay.” He smiles gently, giving you a once over. His eyes are so sharp. The others do it too - take your body language in piece by piece. It doesn’t burn like when Johnny does it, though. His gaze is consuming, even when soft.

He seems to let you off the hook, though. It’s impossible to know how much he does or doesn’t know - how much any of them know. It puts you on edge, the inability to ask. After all, to ask is to admit. If you admit to it, you might lose it all. Fuck why did you kiss John? Kyle you can explain away - just a fun little bet. You’re close in age, he’s pretty, you’re together a lot, you get along. Nothing to it - even if it feels like there was. Even if it feels like every time you’re near him you’re going to melt and the air gets too thick and all you want is to pull him to the back room one more time.

John… John you can’t justify like that. He’s your boss. He’s over a decade older than you. Easily. He’s been so good to you but that’s not an excuse - it’s not right. You’re jeopardizing his place in his community. You’re jeopardizing your job. The best job you’ve ever had. The best friends you’ve ever had.

You can feel Johnny glancing at you as you walk, your eyes square on the ground and fists clenched anxiously. The heat outside only makes your head spin faster. Your cheeks feel feverishly hot. The ice cream almost curdles in your gut. Everything is too loud, too hot, too heavy.

You glance up at the clock. The day’s almost over - there probably won’t be more than one or two people that file in at most. You’ve finished with your work, currently just cross hatching on a sticky note in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. It hasn’t worked. You need a distraction. A real, proper distraction.

“Johnny.” You snap, standing in the door way to his workroom.

“Hm?” He looks up, thick brows raised.

“I want a piercing.”

He cocks his head, taking you in from head to toe. “Aye?”

“If you have time.”

“I’ve always got time fer ye.” He grins.

You almost roll your eyes, but you’re too raw at the edges to really care about his usual flirting. There’s too much weighing on your mind - too much real anxiety knotting itself around your synapses and crushing them in it’s hold. The pain will help. It’ll ground you - sharpen your senses. You can focus on taking care of it for the next couple days between sleeping the days away until Wednesday. Until you can get this shit over with.

The only answer is to quit, right?

That’s your only option.

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks.

You shrug. “What’d you think?”

He taps his chin, eyes slowly making their way over your body. You wonder if he can see how tense you are - body so locked up your joints ache and your jaw throbs. It’s a wonder your teeth are still there with how much you’ve been grinding them.

“How about a navel?”

“Okay.” You agree too quickly, flopping back on the pairing table. You focus in on a water mark on the ceiling above while Johnny digs through his tool cabinet, laying everything neatly on a small rolling tray.

Johnny stops above you. You don’t even turn your head to look, fists clenching and unclenching.

You’ll have to quit.

That’s your only choice. No reference calls, no contact. Will Simon hate you? Will they all? Will they talk about why you up and left? Will they show up at your apartment to demand an answer? No. You don’t mean that much - only a blip on the timeline of their shop. The corners of your eyes burn.

Johnny’s fingers skate over your soft middle, barely touching as he passes over the button of your jeans. He pauses, glancing down at you. “Bonnie?”

“Yeah?” You reply a little too harshly.

Johnny leans over you, hands on either side of your head, blue eyes burning through your skull. He blocks out the light above. “Yer doin’ this because ye want to, yeah? Not to punish yerself?”

You shrink into the table, hackles raising. It really is so easy to forget that Johnny is an observant bastard. Loud, brash, but he still sees everything. Like how he learned your coffee order by heart without you ever even saying it to him or having it written on the cup. He absorbs things, files it away, keeps it close to his chest and hides it behind his blunt, brash daily manners. You’ll miss him.

“I- yeah, I’m fine.” You wince internally at the shake in your voice.

“Y’know, we all love ye.” Johnny murmurs.

You huff, eyes darting anywhere to get away from his. Laying on the table suddenly feels slightly trapping. You can’t get your gaze fully away from where he stands over you - so close as his thick arms cage you in. “Guess so.”

“An’ there’s nothin’ tae feel guilty or bad about.”

Your eyes snap to his face, wide and worried. Does he know? Was he told? Do you ask? If you ask, you’ll be admitting to it. If you ask, then he will know for sure. If you ask, you might ruin it all. “I don’t-“

“Ye do.” He cuts you off. “An’ ye have permission, even if ye dinnae need it. It’s okay. Ye havennae done anythin’ wrong.”

You stare, mouth opening and closing lamely. Johnny. Straight forward, loud mouth, unsubtle Johnny. Fuck, you love him for it. Doesn’t dance around what he means. Doesn’t avoid what needs to be said - from his end, at least.

“Did- did you talk to-?” You stutter, struggling between needing to know and fear to admit the truth so blatantly. Even if he obviously knows something.

“Not really. Not my business.” Johnny shrugs casually.

Not his business. So they persue separately, you think. That makes sense. Probably. It’s probably wrong to make assumptions about the dynamic, about the implication that they have some sort of free for all. Then again, you don’t really know anything about their interpersonal workings much. They live together, they’re touchy. The dynamic is a mystery to you - only adding to the piles of confusion.

“Yer thinkin’ tae hard about it.” He pokes the furrow between your brows.

Oh. Is that it? You’re overthinking? No, adults talk about these things. You don’t understand the interpersonal workings here at all. Are they together? Do they just do this? Pull girls in and push them around until they get tired? That feels too cruel for them. They’ve taken such good care of you…

“I still… want to talk.” You murmur, cheeks warm.

His face softens, a light smile tugging at his lips. “An’ ye will. Kyle’s been damn near loosin’ it with ye avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him!” You snap far too defensively.

“Sure ye aren’t.” Johnny shrugs, as if to tell you he knows that’s bull. Not his business, though, he said. “Just… donnae be so scared of us, aye? We’ve got yer back.”

Your shoulders drop, sore from being tensed for the entire day. “Okay.”

“Still want tae get peirced?”

You nod, chest far less tight. As though you finally let go of a breath you had been holding the entire day. “Sure, why not.”

Your shoulders slump as Johnny makes his way through the usual song and dance - showing you the freshly cleaned tools and marking the spot for the needle. Somehow the world seems… quieter. As if all the chatter in your mind had been just as deafening to your physical ears. It’s tiring. That same sting behind your eyes that you get after a long night out. Your defenses are down, and your body is finally at rest.

“Ow!” You gasp, lifting your head to meet Johnny’s impish grin with a glare. “A little warning next time!”

“Tha’s what happens when ye donnae listen.” He teases, slipping the jewelry through. “She’s cute.”

You snort. “She better be. Y’know I should tell John on you for improper conduct.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Aye, ye an’ Price know plenty about improper conduct.”

There’s no malice in the comment, or in the grin he settles on you. For once, you don’t freeze up. Don’t send yourself into a panic spiral over what he knows or thinks or feels. Johnny made himself clear. Instead you land a light smack against his arm and huff in embarrassment.

“Stand f’me.” Johnny murmurs after cleaning the piercing, a heat in his eyes that you can’t quite gauge the source of.

You do as you’re told, slipping off the table. You have to hook a finger into the waistband of your jeans to keep them up, cheeks hot as you realize how much is actually exposed with the fully undone fly. You glance up at a far too pleased Johnny. Didn’t even say a word, the mischievous bastard.

He drops to his knees in front of you. Your brows shoot damn near into the sky. Johnny mumbles something about making sure the piercing is sitting right. You roll with it, knowing he’s probably just saying whatever to get you to keep your pants undone a little longer. Your breath quickens as a large, warm hand flattens itself over your soft belly, unabashedly groping. Not that you mind, really, even if it does make your face so hot it might melt.

Your heart almost breaks out of your rib cage when he places a small kiss next to the piercing. His hand lowers, resting beside yours on the waistband of your jeans.

“May I?” Johnny murmurs, big blue eyes blinking up at you.

You have permission.

You don’t need permission.

You have it, though.

“Yeah.” You gasp, shivering at the cold air on your skin as Johnny pulls your pants halfway down your thighs.

“Pretty, pretty lass.” He murmurs, nipping at the softness of your belly and down to your thigh. “Look at ye.”

“Flatterer.” You scoff, attempting to let the tension melt off your shoulders with the usual snide remarks you slide each others way.

“M’just honest…” Johnny mumbles absently, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear. “Ye always walkin��� around in somethin’ this skintie?”

For a moment, your brows knit in confusion. That is until he pulls back and snaps the string of your thong against your hip. Your face somehow gets even hotter and you grumble out a poor excuse of, “S’laundry day…”

Your hips twitch as he traces between your lips through the cloth. So uncharacteristically slow and methodical for Johnny as he feels you, like he’s trying to memorize it. A shamefully harsh jolt runs up your spine as he presses just slightly into your clit.

“Sensitive little thing.” Johnny grins up at you. You swear the devil has a less delinquent grin.

“It’s been a while.” You shrug, aiming once again for casual and missing by a mile.

His grin only grows, eyes bright and hungry. “Let’s get these off.”

You shimmy your hips a bit to help him get both your underwear and jeans completely down. A wave of shyness overtakes you as it settles in that you’re utterly exposed to Johnny, your friend and coworker, in the middle of your workplace just as the sun has begun to edge down close to the horizon. It’s almost too much, and you almost yank your pants back on with a stammered, fake excuse, but Johnny soothes his hands up your thighs, gaze locked onto your pussy like it’s the only thing that exists and yeah… you want that.

You have permission.

“There she is.” He cups you gently, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit just hard enough to make you gasp.

Before you can say or do anything his hand retracts and Johnny settles you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen from him. It looks wrong, almost, on that face that’s supposed to have a permanent ear to ear grin.

“If ye want tae stop, I need ye tae tell me now.”

“No.” The word leaves you before you can even register the thought - desperate and breathy.

It earns a low chuckle. The only warning you get before Johnny licks a long stripe up between your lips, letting his tongue rest on your clit for just a moment before repeating the motion as though he’s not just eating you out but truly trying to truly get a taste for you. To memorize you as he drinks you in.

“Should let me give you a Christina…” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.

“Ah, wha-“

“Look so pretty on this fat little cunt.” Johnny gives you a light smack for good measure, grinning at the visible jolt that travels up your spine before diving back in. He hooks a leg over his shoulder, leaving you balancing on your tip toes with your hands flat on the table behind you. It’s precarious and with absolutely no room to escape the attention he’s lavishing on you. It’s almost desperate, the way he moves. The way he devours. A man utterly starved.

“Fuck-“ you gasp as his tongue piercing catches your clit. Rough hands knead at the softness of your thighs and hips, urging you to press into him, to take as much as he’s giving.

“Tha’s it, ride m’face…” Your fingers lock into his mohawk and Johnny’s slurred words become the most pornographic moan you think you’ve ever heard. He practically goes limp - body relaxed and pliant while you grind down onto his tongue.

You tilt your head forward, risking looking down only to meet those big blue eyes staring up at you with all the intensity of the sun. A shaky moan passes your lips and his eyes flutter.

“J-Johnny-” The whine of his name only spurs him on - has him pressing his tongue so deep inside you and drinking you in full.

If he has any complaints about the way your heel digs between his shoulder blades as you unconsciously pull him closer, he doesn’t make it known. His nails rake over your ass, biting and stinging in contrast to everything else. It’s so much. Heat continues to pool at the base of your spine - babbling words, please and moans spill messily from your lips.

Your climax catches you off guard as Johnny sucks harshly at your clit; lighting your body aflame with only his mouth. Every muscle inside you tenses and the sounds you let out can only be described as strangled whines.

You have to yank a little at Johnny’s hair to get him to stop when the overstimulation reaches just the wrong side of too much; he’s well and truly lost in the moment. It fuels your ego to dangerous heights - the idea that this gorgeous man became that intoxicated just from your pussy.

There isn’t even time to say anything before Johnny is standing and connecting his lips with yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, his lips - somehow this is the first time you’ve found that pleasant. With heavy breaths you watch him wipe around his mouth his his palm, only to exaggeratedly lick and clean what’s left off his hand. Fucking sinful.

“Nasty man.” You sigh, too blissed out to be truly critical. Johnny winks and you roll your eyes.

“S’about quittin’ time.” He says, tilting his head to look up at you through thick lashes. “Should get ye home.”

You frown, still trying to come back to earth as you glance down. “Don’t- do you want-?”

He looks you over, your mouth goes dry as his hand drops from your hip to adjust himself. The implications of the outline through his thick denim has your head reeling and your breath quickening. Johnny chuckles at you, surely seeing it written plain across your face. You might as well start drooling and panting like a dog.

He buries his nose into the crook of your neck to nip at your skin. “Another time. Want tae savor ye.”

You shiver, unable to stop the smile that quirks up the corners of your lips. You have permission. You don’t need it, but you have it.

A/N: Sorry if this is a little rough, I'm getting back into the swing of things. It's finally time for things to get fun, tho ;)

Also please give some love to this AMAZING fanart from @eurydicescurse

[rebeccathenaturalist]

In the past month, I have toted this book into about fifty bookstores, nature shops, gift stores, and other relevant businesses, across Idaho, Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Missouri, Kansas, and Colorado, down I-80 and back up I-70. I've met all sorts of store owners and employees, and I've been absolutely overwhelmed by the singularly positive response I've gotten. Many put their order in with Penguin Random House or Ingram right then; others eagerly took info postcards to give to the store owners or buyers.

My partner and I are currently in La Grande, OR, about to embark on the last leg of the journey down I-84 toward home--Portland. Once there, I need to leap right into a whole task list, to include talking to shops across the PNW about carrying The Everyday Naturalist. But I also have some dedicated outdoor time planned, because it is spring and therefore my favorite season, and having had a good taste of Ozarks and prairie spring, I want to indulge in this time of year at home.

By the way, I would love it if you would mention The Everyday Naturalist to your local bookstores! It's due out from Ten Speed Press/Penguin Random House June 17, and the more shelves it's on the better. Thank you :)

[shuaflix]

elf in crime

❝ article 5, section 2, clause 27 of the christmas elf guidebook states that elves must kiss underneath the mistletoe. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee chan x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, fantasy, friends (coworkers?) to lovers au

SUMMARY ▸ by some twist of fate, you and chan are partnered to deliver presents on christmas eve. although this sounds like the premise of a nightmare for most of the elves in your department, you're determined to successfully get through the night (with hopefully no hidden feelings rising to the surface).

PLAYLIST ▸ darl+ing (holiday ver.) by seventeen • last kiss by the boyz • sleigh ride by the ronettes

WORD COUNT ▸ 1,234 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hiii jess @the-boy-meets-evil i'm your secret santa! >:) <3 ty @camandemstudios for hosting !! sending love for the holidays and hope this drabble brings you some joy ! also chan in the santa beard was too silly i couldn't resist

A LOST ART IN MODERN HOME DESIGN, YOU REALIZED, WAS THE FIREPLACE. 

As a Delivery Elf of the Present Distribution Task Force, you were assigned to distribute Santa’s Christmas gifts to all of the children in your designated district. This year, however, your department was so understaffed (partially due to the recent elf strikes) that your usual team of five had been cut down to three—and, of course, your other team member was down with a nasty case of Elfluenza, so you were now delivering presents with Lee Chan. 

This posed a threat for two reasons: the first reason being you and the second reason being Lee Chan. 

One could describe your dynamic as destructive, perhaps even catastrophic. It was the reason why Choi Seungcheol, your department head, moved Chan to a different team about four times in the past two years. Miraculously, you ended up being paired with him tonight despite all odds. Lee Seokmin, who was really a Toy Maker but ended up volunteering to keep track of all elves out on deliveries, choked up immediately once he saw you and Chan heading out, but unfortunately the poor guy couldn’t get many words out before Boo Seungkwan started hounding him over not following professional workplace attire (the pointy hat). 

For the most part, the night had gone surprisingly smooth until you got to your very last house. In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up for everything to go well without a hitch. Your partner was Chan, after all. 

The issue at hand was that you were currently on the roof, standing right next to the chimney, and Lee Chan was grumbling as he crawled out from the opening. Apparently, the fireplace was blocked off, so there was no way in through the chimney. Tradition was dead.

With a scowl and a face covered in decade-old soot, Chan complained, “Why have a chimney—why have a fireplace—if you’re not gonna let it serve its intended purpose?” 

You knew that Chan deeply believed the intended purpose of a fireplace was to roast marshmallows, not a source of heat, so you changed the subject. 

“We’ll have to find another way in.” You peered over the edge of the roof. “Window?”

“Breaking and entering is a serious offense, Y/N.”

“We’re elves. You think going through the chimney isn’t a felony?”

Being an elf, you possessed a special magic that allowed you to unlock any door or window (although this was only permitted on Christmas Eve). Doors were tricky, though; the creaking from the worn out hinges was always a risk and most people had cameras or alarms on their front doors. Windows were the safer option if there was no chimney, but you still felt uneasy about that. 

The human house was a battlefield. 

“Article 3, Section 34, Clause 84 of the Christmas Elf Guidebook,” Chan started in a whisper as the two of you crouched beside one of the windows along the side of the house. “In the case of an inaccessible chimney, Delivery Elves are to use Elfpedia on their smart devices to look up the floor plans—”

“Okay, we don’t have time for all that,” you interjected, waving him off with a single hand motion. To be frank, it had been a long night and you were itching to get home and watch a cheesy Hallmark Christmas romcom. After a glimpse through the blinds of the window closest to you, Dumb (you) suggested, “Let’s just go through this one,” and Dumber (Chan) conceded. 

Getting the window open wasn’t difficult aside from the several moments where you two froze after it creaked a little too loudly. Chan gripped your arm, preparing to bolt if someone started coming downstairs, but to your relief, the house stayed quiet. 

“Nice,” you started in a low voice, “now help me get in.”

Chan bent down and cupped his hands to help hoist your foot up. You hauled yourself inside and waited for your partner-in-crime to follow suit. He, on the other hand, struggled to climb through the window as gracefully as you did, which resulted in him losing his balance and falling to the wooden floor. 

You winced as the crash resounded throughout the house. Again, the two of you froze for several long minutes before it felt safe to become animate again.

Although your voice was hardly audible, the way you grabbed Chan’s arm was enough to show that you were pissed. “You almost blew it!” 

But he wasn’t looking at you.

He was looking up at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the top of the window frame, right where you two entered from. 

“You know,” he mumbled, and your heart felt like it was beating a hundred times faster when you saw the faint blush dust his cheeks. “Article 5, Section 2, Clause 27 of the Christmas Elf Guidebook states that elves must kiss underneath the mistletoe.” 

Your pulse raced. Kiss Chan? Kiss Lee Chan? How could you possibly kiss your close friend slash coworker? (Even though you often fantasized about it whenever you felt a touch too vulnerable around him, but that was beside the point.) You were here to deliver presents, that was all. In and out. None of this nonsense. 

But something warm stirred in your heart, and you couldn’t help but think that it would be pretty nice kissing Chan. 

The elf even failed to mention the several exceptions to that clause, which included both parties consenting to the kiss and that the rule didn’t apply in human homes. And Chan, who had the guidebook memorized at this point (for God knows what reason), surely wouldn’t have brought up the clause if he knew it didn’t apply to this situation. Did that mean he truly wanted to kiss you? 

“Why do you even have that memorized?” Your laugh came out more like a nervous breath. “You know that clause doesn’t apply here, right?” 

He shrugged, grinning. “Mistletoe is mistletoe—clause or not.”

Mustering up the minimal courage you had, you rose up on your toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. It was awkward at first, a little shy, but then you were consumed with the need to give into the longing that had been festering inside you for a while now. Chan’s eyes dropped to your lips once you pulled away, but then he cupped your cheek and brought you back for a longer, sweeter kiss that made you feel like putty in his hold. 

The moment was cut short by the sound of an impatient reindeer’s hoof slamming against the rooftop. It was loud enough for you to hear but thankfully not loud enough to wake up the residents. The reindeer must have been getting hungry after you two left the sleigh unattended for far too long. You and Chan pulled away from each other with wide eyes, the tender moment melting into a state of anxiety when you realized you needed to get going already. 

He ran a hand through his hair, flustered. “Continue this later?”

“Yes, please,” you admitted with sudden shyness growing in your chest. “Alright, give me the presents so we can leave.”

“Y/N.”

“Oh, we can watch a movie together when we get back, or—”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

When you turned back to look at him, Chan looked terribly stressed. “We left the presents on the roof.”

[bah-circus]

Can you make me a level 400 trans latino Femboy with a lot of Neos and also a few Trans harmful ids?

Pièce de Résistance!!!

°·⊱ Name at Birth: Aoto Ishii

°·⊱ Current Legal Name: Aoto Mori

°·⊱ Current Used Name(s): Aoi, Mateo (exclusively with friends)

°·⊱ Chronological Age: 23

°·⊱ Apparent Age: ~19 

°·⊱ Birthday: April 9th, 2002

°·⊱ Birthplace: Miyagi Prefecture, Sendai, Izumi-ku, Japan

°·⊱ Time of Birth: 3:07am JST (GMT+9)

°·⊱ Sex: Male

°·⊱ Race/Species: Human

°·⊱ Eye Color: #180F0A

°·⊱ Eye Shape: Hooded

°·⊱ Nose Shape: Greek

°·⊱ Skin Tone: #A37760

°·⊱ Hair Color: #1D1713

°·⊱ Hair Texture: Straight

°·⊱ Hair Thickness: Medium

°·⊱ Hair Porosity: Medium-High

°·⊱ Hair Length/Style: Chin-length, slightly waved

°·⊱ Nail Color: Bottoms Up Vivid Seafoam Green Studio Color Nail Polish

°·⊱ Height: 1703.4mm

°·⊱ Weight: 62595.7g

°·⊱ Measurements: 

°···⊱ Waist: 650.24mm  

°···⊱ Bust: 1193.8mm

°···⊱ Full Hip: 919.48mm

°···⊱ Shoulder: 396.24mm

°···⊱ Shoulder Seam:  144.78mm

°···⊱ Front Bodice: 459.74mm

°···⊱ Back Bodice: 426.72mm

°···⊱ Arm Length: 711.2mm

°···⊱ Upper Hip: 787.4mm

°···⊱ Upper Bust: 685.8mm

°···⊱ Inseam: 812.8mm

°···⊱ Outseam: 1066.8mm

°·⊱ Notable scars: around the jawbone under the ear on the right side, several small scars on the palms and backs of his hands (very bad at pulling food out of the oven, don’t let him do it)

°·⊱ Scent: Vanilla and Sandalwood

°·⊱ Accent: Japanese inspired pronunciation, issues with “L” and “R”s, different vowel pronunciation (mispronounced or shortened/lengthened), will stress the wrong parts of words, struggles with “Th” sounds

°·⊱ Stims: Aligning Objects, Sorting Objects, ASMR Videos [ Personal Care, Squishys ], Petting Cats, Tapping Patterns With Finger-Tips, Pen Clicking, Humming, Chewelry, Chewing on Pens, Repeating Phrases Out Loud, Repeating Favorite TikTok Audios, Tongue Clicking, Hand Flapping, Body Rocking, Fidget Spinners, Bubble Wrap

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ Visual Acuity: 0.8 in both eyes, corrected via contact lenses

°·⊱ Pupil Distance: 67mm or 34/33

°·⊱ Genetic Reports (traits by percentage of likelihood): 

°···⊱ Maternal Haplogroup: D4a1b1

°···⊱ Paternal Haplogroup: C1a1a1a

°···⊱ Ability to Match Musical Pitch: 73%

°···⊱ Asparagus Odor Detection: 54%

°···⊱ Bitter Taste: 44%

°···⊱ Cheek Dimples: 84%

°···⊱ Cilantro Taste Aversion: 100%

°···⊱ Dandruff: 67%

°···⊱ Earlobe Type: 91% favoring attached earlobes

°···⊱ Fear of Heights: 89%

°···⊱ Fear of Public Speaking:  31%

°···⊱ Finger Length Ratio: 43% more likely to have a longer index finger than ring finger

°···⊱ Flat Feet: 51%

°···⊱ Freckles: 08%

°···⊱ Hair Photobleaching: 0%

°···⊱ Misophonia: 41%

°···⊱ Mosquito Bite Frequency:  46% 

°···⊱ Motion Sickness: 32%

°···⊱ Photic Sneeze Reflex: 13%

°···⊱ Stretch Marks: 18%

°···⊱ Sweet vs. Salty: 63% more likely to prefer Sweet

°···⊱ Wake-Up Time: 8:00 AM

°···⊱ Widow’s Peak: 25%

°···⊱ Genetic Predispositions: Hereditary Amyloidosis, Bipolar Disorder, Eczema

°···⊱ Positive Carrier Status: Nonsyndromic Hearing Loss and Deafness DFNB1, 

°···⊱ Alcohol Flush Reaction: Likely to flush after alcohol consumption

°···⊱ Caffeine Consumption: Likely to drink significantly more caffeine than average. 

°···⊱ Muscle Composition: Common for endurance athletes

°·⊱ Blood Type: AB-

°·⊱ Handedness: Mixed; Right preferred for writing and drawing, Left preferred for most other tasks (like things that involve catching, i.e. sports)

°·⊱ Allergies: Strawberries, Gluten, Tree Nuts

°·⊱ Temperature Sensitivity: Cold intolerance due to poor circulation

°·⊱ Medications Taken (and times): 20 mg Paxil - 10PM; 5mg Warfarin - 10AM ; 5mg Norvasc - 10AM; 2.5 mg Valium - 10AM, 10PM; 2500 iu Vitamin D - 10AM; 2500 mg Vitamin B12 - 10AM; 

°·⊱ Daily Routine: Wake Up - 8:30AM; Shower - 8:45AM; Breakfast - 9:15AM; Check Social Media - 9:30AM; Take Morning Meds - 10AM; Walk to Art Studio - 10:15AM; Work on Commissions - 11AM; Lunch Break - 3PM; Livestream on Twitch 4:30PM; End Stream 7PM; Close Up Studio - 7:30PM; Walk Home - 7:45PM; Begin Dinner - 8:30PM; Eat Dinner - 9PM; Take Evening Meds - 10PM; Relax until Bed Around Midnight

°·⊱ Workout Regimen: 45 Minute Walk To & From Work 4 Days A Week

°·⊱ Hair Care Routine: Pre-Wash Ginseng Oil Treatment, Sulfate Free Shampoo on Scalp, Conditioner on Middle & Ends, Once a Week Deep-Conditioning Hair Mask with Keratin or Rice Water

°·⊱ Skin Care Routine: In Order: Micellar Water on cotton pads (about 4 to do whole face), PanOxyl Acne Foaming Facewash (wait 2 min before rinsing off), Mediheal madecassoside blemish patches (one on each cheek, leave for 5 mins then remove and dry face with cotton pads), torriden dive in serum, rovectin clean LHA blemish ampoule (2x a week), goodal vita-a retinol ampoule (2-3x a week, never does this and rovectin on same days), vanicream daily moisturizer, torriden lip essence.

°·⊱ Dental Routine: Fruit Flavored [Watermelon Preference ] Toothpaste, 45 Second per Mouth Quarter, Soft Bristle Brush, Rinse With Warm Tap Water, Mouthwash for 60 Seconds, Floss 

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ Level of Education Achieved: Bachelor in College

°·⊱ Degrees Earned: Bachelor in Graphic Design

°·⊱ Current Profession: Free-Lance Artist °·⊱ Previous Professions: Barista

°·⊱ Yearly Income: ~$50k USD / 7.5 million JPY

°·⊱ Health Insurance Coverage: NHI residence-based coverage 

°·⊱ Substances Used: Weed, Cocaine, Mushrooms

°·⊱ Social Media Used: TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr [3 Blogs], Twitter

°·⊱ Social Media Handles: 

°···⊱ TikTok: ‎‧₊˚✧[🥭☁️ Mateo ☁️🥭]✧˚₊‧  @/sweet.lxtinx.mango 

°···⊱ Instagram: @/mango.sweetcream 

°···⊱ Facebook: Mango Mori

°···⊱ Tumblr: Main - @/sweet.lxtinx.mango : Userbox Requests - @/MangoCreamBakery : Spam @/mango.dispensary 

°···⊱ Twitter: Main -  @/mori.mango.sweets : Priv - @/mateo.dairy

°·⊱ Email Address: Main - mateo.mori@X.com : Spam - mangocream00@X.com 

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ Nicknames/Titles: [Prn] Who Adores Fruit, [Prn] Who Is Adored, The Head That Wears The Crown, Mango, 

°·⊱ Gender Identity: Mangogender, Softfluffygender, Fruitcomfic

°·⊱ Gender Presentation: Genderfluid, Super Masc Some Days, Butch Fem Other Days

°·⊱ Pronouns: Thxy/Thxm; It/Its; 🥭/🥭s; Kyu/Kyute; Cream/Creams; Ne/Nem; Vi/Vir; Shi/Hir; Hy/Hym; Fruit/Fruits; Soft/Softs; Cloud/Clouds; Fluff/Fluffs; Acid/Acids; Bio/Bios; Diox/Dioxys; Uran/Uranium; Mango/Mangos; Cit/Citrus; Slime/Slimes; Bug/Bugs; Jam/Jams; Sugar/Sugars; Flux/Fluxs; Split/Splits; Gli/Glitch; Nex/Nexus; Orbit/Orbits; Myth/Myths; Surge/Surges; 🌀/🌀; Moon/Moons; Sun/Suns; Solar/solars; Star/Stars; Astro/Astros; Gala/Galax; Neb/Nebula; Dark/Darks; Dusk/Dusks; Dim/Dims; Nox/Noxus; Lucid/Lucids; Dream/Dreams; ☁️/☁️s; 💤/💤s; Soul/Souls; Jinx/Jinxs; Rain/Rains; Pitter/Patter; Cold/Colds; Nim/Nimbus; Fog/Fogs; Snap/Snaps; Card/Cards; Gamb/Gamble; Slot/Slots; Auto/Autos; Ring/Rings; Gold/Golds; Spark/Sparks; Hot/Hots; Nis/niz; Xrn/xrnx; Ix/ixs; Ip/ips; Ink/inks; Dex/dexs; Wick/wicks; Coin/coins; Crown/Crowns; Kit/kits; Blur/blurs; Rex/Rexs; Ae/aer; Non/nons; Xi/xir; Zhey/zhem; Ect/ecto; Haz/hazard; Honk/honks; Allium/Alliums; Pup/Pups; Bone/Bones; 🦴/🦴s; 🐾/🐾s; ✒️/✒️s; 🎰/🎰s; 🧊/🧊; Snow/Snows; Spot/Spots; Bat/Bats; 🦇/🦇s; Neo/Neos; Xeno/Xenos; Val/Valum; 🌈/🌈; Fagg/Faggot; Fen/Fens; ⛓️/⛓️s; Con/Cons; Phey/Phem; Disc/Discs; Pog/Pogs; Rev/Revs; 🫧/🫧s; 🧋/🧋s

°·⊱ Sexuality: Guiltsexual, Doxipan, Omniromantic

°·⊱ Personality: Mateo is a very life-of-the-party type of person, who tends to make a lot of modern references, especially to TikTok “Brain Rot”. Is incredibly talented in impressions, ranging from animals to celebrity impressions. Moderate cook. Struggles with 🥭s ASPD diagnosis, and how to handle the symptoms. 

°·⊱ MBTI: ESFP-T

°·⊱ Enneagram: 7w6

°·⊱ Big Five Inventory:

°·⊱ DISC Assessment:

°·⊱ HEXACO:

°·⊱ Zodiac: Aries Sun, Pisces Moon, Aquarius Rising

°·⊱ Natal Chart:

°·⊱ Source: BAHtroject

°·⊱ Role: External Caretaker, Archivist, Mood Booster, ADHD Holder, Temp Host

°·⊱ Origin: Autigenic

°·⊱ Political Stances: Progressive

°·⊱ Religious Beliefs: Agnostic

°·⊱ Philosophical Beliefs: Idealist

°·⊱ Holidays Celebrated: Valentines Day & White Day, Dia De Los Muertos

°·⊱ Popularity: 46% of People have a Positive Opinion

°·⊱ Technology Used: iPhone 15, iPad mini, Gaming Laptop, Work/Casual Computer, Television, PlayStation 4, Switch

°·⊱ Scam Gullibility: Low, more likely to scam someone else. 

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ Likes: Citrus, Chicken, Matcha, Energy Drinks, Mangoes, secretly loves Japanese Baseball, pink, orange

°·⊱ Dislikes: Bitter coffee, plain alcohol, seeing animals in pain, 

°·⊱ Interests: Digital art, fashion, jirai kei and decora kei subculture, streaming personal work, 

°·⊱ Hobbies: Making Userboxes, Drawing (Digital And Traditional), making kandi, making PSDs for their social media layouts, 

°·⊱ Positive Triggers: Angels in media, fashion haul videos (specifically “kawaii” style ones), 

°·⊱ Neutral Triggers: Nes fictionkins, working on commissions (if applicable), 

°·⊱ Negative Triggers: Bigotry (especially anti-LGBTQ or transID), Car Crashes

°·⊱ Positive Memories: Getting 🥭s first big art commission, going to karaoke after school with friends, becoming a Twitch Affiliate 

°·⊱ Neutral Memories: Getting hate-raided on Twitch early in streaming career, 

°·⊱ Negative Memories: Being made fun of in Social Studies at 13~, Being broken up with by 🌀s high-school sweetheart after graduation

°·⊱ Significant Events: Graduation, Parental Death at 20 in a Car Crash

°·⊱ Preferred Accessories: safety pin jewelry, creepers, Badtz-Maru Themed 

°·⊱ Favorite Subject in School: Social studies

°·⊱ Playlist: Features Lady Gaga, Kesha, Megan Thee Stallion, Lil Nas X, Charli xcx, Dua Lipa, Britney Spears, bbno$, Kikuo

°·⊱ Hex Code: #FFA62B

°·⊱ Homestuck Claspect: Sylph of Blood

°·⊱ Obscure Sorrow: Amicy - the mystery of what goes on behind the scenes of your social life, wondering about all the back channels and private histories and secondary affiliations that you might never hear about

°·⊱ Genshin Vision: Pyro

°·⊱ Honkai Star Rail Path: Fire Preservation

°·⊱ Wuthering Waves Resonance: Havoc, Rectifier

°·⊱ Pokemon Starter: Cyndaquil

°·⊱ Pokemon Team: Typhlosion [Starter], Azumarill, Toxtricity, Croagunk, Galarian Rapidash, Weavile

°·⊱ Digimon Partner: Muchomon

°·⊱ Kpop biases: 

°···⊱ BTS: Suga

°···⊱ ASTRO: Moonbin

°···⊱ BIGBANG: G-Dragon

°···⊱ BLACKPINK: Jennie

°···⊱ NCT 127: Taeil

°···⊱ EXO: Baekhyun

°···⊱ Block B: Taeil

°·⊱ Warrior Cats Clan: WindClan

°·⊱ Harry Potter House: Hufflepuff

°·⊱ Ilvermorny House: Pukwudgie

°·⊱ Team Edward or Team Jacob?: Team Jacob

°·⊱ Divergent Faction: Candor

°·⊱ League of Legends Role: Jungle

°·⊱ Smash Main: Palutena or Isabelle

°·⊱ Mario Kart Main: Rosalina or Shy Guy

°·⊱ Loot Dropped: 

°···⊱ Common: orange & white kandi cuff that spells out ‘mango’

°···⊱ Uncommon: ring light

°···⊱ Rare: butterfly knife

°···⊱ Legendary: custom mango-themed decora kei phone case

°·⊱ Omegaverse Role: Omega

°·⊱ Fursona: Maned Wolf

°·⊱ Magic The Gathering Deck List: https://archidekt.com/decks/12042068/head_i_win_tails_you_loose (this is not our account, we just needed a convenient way to attach the list, please don’t try to contact this person lmao)

°·⊱ Dungeons and Dragons character: Changeling Artificer (Alchemist subclass)

°·⊱ Vampire The Masquerade character: Toreador

°·⊱ Emoji Sign-Off: 🥭✨🍫🎀☁️🍨

°·⊱ Most Frequently Used Emojis: 🥭✨🌸💦🍆🍑🧡

°·⊱ Handwriting:

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ Orders: 

°···⊱ Applebee’s: Spinach Artichoke Dip, Tex-Mex Shrimp Bowl or Rare Bourbon Street Steak, Oreo Cookie Shake, Lemonade 

°···⊱ Arby’s: Greek Gyro, Curly Fries, Mozzarella Sticks, Andes Mint Chocolate Shake [ When in Season ]

°···⊱ Auntie Anne’s: Cinnamon Sugar Nuggets, Mango-Lemonade Spritz, Mini Pretzel Dogs with Cheese

°···⊱ Blaze Pizza: Classic Dough, Garlic Pesto, Shredded Mozzarella, Smoked Ham, Grilled Chicken, Red Onions, with a Sea Salt Finish, Cheesy Bread, a Monster and a Brownie

°···⊱ Bojangle’s: 8 pc Chicken Box with Mountain Dew

°···⊱ Burger King: Large Chicken Fries with Onion Rings and a Cherry Coke to Drink

°···⊱ Carl’s Jr.: Big Angus Famous Star, Coke with Ice, Snack Stash [ Waffle Fries + Jalapeño Poppers Bites ]

°···⊱ Checker’s: Big Buford with no Mayonaise, Large Fries, and a Large Banana Milkshake

°···⊱ Chick-Fil-A: Grilled Chick-Fil-A Sandwich on a Regular Bun, no Lettuce and no Tomato, add Bacon with Chick-Fil-A Sauce for the Large Fries and Sriracha Sauce poured onto the Sandwich, with a Hi-C 

°···⊱ Chili’s: Mild Boneless Wings Appetizer, Chicken Bacon Ranch Quesadilla, with a Skillet Chocolate Chip Cookie

°···⊱ Chipotle: 3 Chipotle Honey Chicken Tacos, Soft Flour Tortilla, Brown Rice, Fajita Veggies, Cheese, Chips & Queso with an Organic Berry Agua Fresca

°···⊱ Church’s: 5 pc Spicy Chicken Tenders, with a Strawberry Fanta, and a Lemon Cheesecake Fried Pie

°···⊱ Cinnabon: Center of the Roll, CinnaSweeties, Double Chocolate Mocha Chillatta 

°···⊱ Culver’s: Pot Roast Sandwich with Fries and a Custard

°···⊱ Dairy Queen: Backyard BBQ Bacon & Ranch Burger Double with Fries, Sweet Tea to Drink, Caramel Sundae

°···⊱ Del Taco: Queso Loaded Nachos, Chicken Cheddar Rollers, Mini Cinnamon Churros, Dragon Fruit Blueberry Lemonade Poppers

°···⊱ Domino’s: Medium Alfredo Pizza with Bacon

°···⊱ Dunkin Donuts: Large White Toasted Chocolate Signature Iced Latte made with Oat Milk, Maple Frosted Donut

°···⊱ Five Guys: Double Bacon Cheeseburger, Cajun Style Fries, Orange Fanta, Salted Caramel Shake

°···⊱ Hardee’s: 2 Redhook Beer-Battered Fish Sandwiches with Fries and a Coke

°···⊱ IHOP: New York Cheesecake Pancakes with a Coffee and a side of Bacon

°···⊱ In-N-Out: Cheeseburger with no Tomato, with Strawberry Fanta and a side of Fries, and a Chocolate Milkshake

°···⊱ Jack in the Box: Double Jack Combo with no Tomato a Strawberry Fanta and a side of Fries

°···⊱ KFC: 8pc. Saucy Nuggets Combo tossed in Korean BBQ sauce, with fries, sweet tea to drink, and a Chocolate Chip Cake 

°···⊱ Krispy Kreme: Fresh Hot Plain Glazed

°···⊱ Little Caesars: Just an order of crazy bread and marinara sauce, hates the pizza

°···⊱ Logan’s Roadhouse: Loaded Potato Skins, Big Easy Blue Tea, Shrimp Stacked Trout with Three Cheese Bacon Mac and Cinnamon Apples, occasionally gets the cheesecake as a treat

°···⊱ Long John Silver’s: Just an order of hushpuppies, will get this as a snack sometimes

°···⊱ McDonald’s: Big breakfast with hotcakes OR quarter pounder with cheese and mac sauce, depending on mood 

°···⊱ Melting Pot: 3 Courses, Classic Alpine cheese fondue blend with added charcuterie board, Bacon and Bleu Spinach salad, Dark and Dulce chocolate fondue blend with added macarons, Pink Crush to drink

°···⊱ Nando’s: Grilled Halloumi Cheese with chili jam, ½ Chicken with medium spice and a side of peri mac with a peach Rubro to drink

°···⊱ Olive Garden: Shrimp Carbonara with a Minestrone soup and a raspberry lemonade, black tie mousse cake for dessert

°···⊱ Outback Steakhouse: Blooming Onion, 6oz Sirloin and Coconut Shrimp with a baked potato and seasoned rice, sweet tea to drink

°···⊱ Panda Express: Broccoli beef and steamed white rice panda bowl

°···⊱ Panera: Cream of Chicken and Wild Rice bread bowl soup, cranberry orange slice, blueberry lavender lemonade

°···⊱ Papa John’s: Medium Hawaiian Style Pizza

°···⊱ Pizza Hut: 12 pc Cajun Dry Rub Styled Traditional Wings, Chicken Bacon Parmesan Melt

°···⊱ Popeyes: Ghost Pepper Chicken Sandwich with Bacon & Cheese, Cajun Fries with a Coke without Ice

°···⊱ Quiznos: French Dip with Sour Cream & Onion Chips and a Lemonade

°···⊱ Raising Cane’s: The Box Combo with Dr. Pepper

°···⊱ Red Lobster: Mozzarella Sticks, Shrimp Linguini Alfredo with a Peach Lemonade

°···⊱ Ruby Tuesday: Coca-Cola, Loaded Potato Skins, Medium Rare RibEye and Ribs, Carrot Cake for desert

°···⊱ Sbarro: Medium 4 Cheese White Pizza, Cheesy Cheddar Bacon Bread

°···⊱ Shake Shack: 10 Pc Chicken Bites with Honey Mustard and Crinkle Cut Fries, Cookies N Cream Shake, Sweet Tea

°···⊱ Smashburger: Coca Cola, Large Smashfries, All American Smash with no Mustard

°···⊱ Smoothie King: Large Strawberry-Banana Smoothie

°···⊱ Sonic: Medium Tater-Tots, 2 Corn dogs with Ketchup and a Medium Banana Shake with Whipped Cream and Cherry

°···⊱ Starbucks: Venti Pink Drink 

°···⊱ Steak n’ Shake: Frisco Melt, Double Side of Fries, Birthday Cake Milkshake, with an Orange Fanta no Ice

°···⊱ Subway: All-Pro Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki Footlong on Toasted Italian Herbs & Cheese

°···⊱ Taco Bell: Chrunchwrap Supreme with Steak instead of Grilled Beef, no Sour Cream, Large Baja Blast, Large Nacho Fries, 2 Pack Cinnabon Delights

°···⊱ Waffle House: Chocolate Chip Waffle, Steak Hashbrown Bowl with Onions, Orange Juice

°···⊱ Wendy’s: Baconator with no Mayonnaise and Fries and a Coca Cola

°···⊱ Whataburger: Whataburger Patty Melt, Large Fries and a Large Strawberry Fanta

°···⊱ White Castle: Chicken & Waffles Sliders with Loaded Fries and a Chocolate Shake

°···⊱ Wingstop: 3 Pc Chicken Tender in Sweet Chili Glaze, Coca Cola and Large Fries

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ TransIDs: transLatino, transShota, transMexican, transCysticFibrosis. transLupus, trisStalker, transYandere, DesirCannibal, DesirConabuser, DesirKidnapper, transForearmCrutchUser, trans3aHair, transReynauds, transRoyal, transPrince, transPrincess, transNoble, Ichoramian / transGoldBlood, transAngel, transWhiteWings, transEarWings, transWaistWings, sexuMinor, comfiMinor, transAge[9], transFluent[Spanish], nullJapanese, transInterHateful, transSnuffDirector, transGr00mer, transOnlyFP, transPartner, muto🍇ist, transHarasser, transCyberHarasser, jokeCisphobic, jokeHeterophobic, darlCrated

°·⊱ CisIDs: Japanese, Tan Skin, Brown Eyes, Black Hair, Piercings,  Moyamoya disease, straight hair, Stalker, Cyber Stalker, Polyamorous, ADHD, Autism, Anxiety, GERD

°·⊱ MUDS: Obsessive Love Disorder (OLD), 

°·⊱ Paras: 🐙,🦴,🤕, 🐊, 🥀,💤,🫀,🩸,🩹,👀,⛓ 

°·⊱ Aesthetic: Decora Kei, Jirai Kei

°·⊱ Moodboard:

°·⊱ Kintypes: Angelkin, Nico di Angelo Fictionkin, APH Mexico Fictionkin, Eros Deity Kin, Obsession Concept Kin, Royalcore Concept Kin, Matt Eddsworld Fictionkin, Wendell Testaburger South Park Fictionkin, Alien Therian, Mango FruitKin

°·⊱ Faceclaim:

Never Challenge Us - Ringmaster Anon

while i know 100% this was someone being a jerk(?), this was kind of fun to chip away at and plan

i don't celebrate april fool's day usually, but this felt like the perfect opportunity to indulge in this silly holiday of pranks, so have some 'prank' packs.

Now for whatever reason if any of today's requests were meant to be serious and mean anything else, please let us know i would gladly make a more serious pack for you <3 - Pest Swarm ; ???

[broad-shouldrs]

Hold On To Me || Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~3,579

summary: you weren’t supposed to be here—stuck at a summer camp your dad signed you up for. but joel’s here too: your neighbor, your boss, a single dad, frustratingly competent and infuriatingly attractive.

you shouldn’t want him. he definitely shouldn’t want you.

warnings: dbf! Joel (but he didn't know you as a kid). age gap. au!no outbreak. pining. slow burn. only the slightest bit of smut, f!masturbation

a/n: just trying to catch up to a03. this is one of my favorite chapters. meanwhile, I'm over here internally debating on whether to split chapter 6.

chapters 1-5 are currently posted on a03

The first day of training, it's 84° and you're absolutely fucking miserable. You're disgustingly hot, sticky from the humidity, and sweating through your neon green t-shirt.  You stand around a circle of mismatched folding chairs, fanning yourself with the day's schedule, while a girl in a Camp Firefly T-shirt and cargo shorts explains the emergency evacuation protocols with way too much enthusiasm for 9 am. You silently curse your father for presenting this like a viable option when you're this close to melting.

You should be paying attention to her but you've noticed Joel, just off to the side of the room, arms crossed, and looking every bit like a man who’d rather be anywhere else — except his eyes keep drifting over to you. Not often but just enough for you to notice.

You feel stupid for caring. You had only known each other for two years and not even really that. It had been two quiet summers with barely a handful of words exchanged. But the way his eyes drift to you now does something to you. It shouldn’t. He's probably just checking on you. Or maybe he's not even looking at you at all.

Still, you feel something stir inside you before you can stop it. You tell yourself it was nothing. Sunstroke. Wishful thinking.

But you can't bring yourself to look away.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you volunteer to go on a supply run in town. You end up in the middle row of the van, wedged between two counselors you don’t know well and pretending the A/C is doing something to quell the humid air seeping inside.

You’re decidedly not looking at Joel. You’re not. But you can feel it — his glance in the rearview mirror. You tell yourself it’s nothing. He’s just checking the road or the mirror.  You’re in the dead center — his line of sight. It doesn’t mean anything.

Your body betrays you and your cheeks burn in a way that has nothing to do with the Texas heat. You turn your head and keep your eyes turned out to whatever is passing by through the window.  When you finally glance up, his eyes meet yours for half a second. You look away first because you have to. Because otherwise you'll keep thinking this is something it's not.

The van hits a bump and you pretend that’s the reason your hands are shaking.

Later that afternoon, you find yourself fumbling with the unfamiliar straps of a rock climbing harness, trying to remember which buckle goes where and how tight is too tight. The nylon feels rough against your skin and you can feel yourself start to get uncomfortable. You let out a frustrated breath and clench your teeth, watching the other counselor's complete the task with ease. The last thing you want to do is ask for help, but you don't get the chance to.

Joel steps quietly behind you and before you can react, his hands reach around and adjust the straps. There’s nothing deliberate or flashy about it — just careful, precise movements, the kind of touch that belongs to someone who’s done this a thousand times before. You’re acutely aware of how close he is, how his body leans just enough that you can feel the faintest heat radiating off his back. Your shoulders stiffen, and for a moment, you fight the urge to press back against him.

His hands linger for a beat longer than necessary on the strap near your thigh. It’s subtle, nothing that crosses a line, but your skin prickles in response, a quiet shock of awareness.

“There you go. Just like that.” His voice is so low it travels all the way down your spine. 

You glance back over your shoulder and for the briefest moment you make eye contact, neither of you speaking. You’re so fucked. 

Joel clears his throat and takes a couple of steps back, eyes noticeably darker. “Looks good, keep practicin’.” 

Alone in your cabin, you can’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers. It's dirty and so wrong but you're lost replaying the moment from earlier, imagining that it had just been the slightest bit different. 

If you had been bold enough to press your ass into Joel’s front as he crowded your space. He’d be surprised but wouldn’t dare pull away. Instead, he’d pull you closer, gripping your hips with his calloused hands. You’d push against the curve of his cock, relishing in how large he felt against you as he got hard. He would press his lips to the side of your neck and let out the dirtiest sounding “Fuck” against your sweat-slick skin. 

He’d grind against you seeking the friction you both so desperately craved from one another. One of his hands would wind around your shirt, lifting it up ever the slightest as his other hand would slip past the waistband of your shorts. Your panties would be soaked and the slightest brush against your clit would have you bucking into him, reaching for whatever part of him you could.  

He’d waste no time pushing the damp fabric of your panties to the side, and pushing two fingers deep inside you. He’d fuck you slow and you’d be desperate for it — for him. “Please, Joel” 

“I bet you look so pretty when you come”, he’d mutter against your ear. “Lemme see it, baby. Lemme see you come for me.” 

When you come, you cover your mouth with your free hand, biting down on your palm, so as not to scream out Joel’s name. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The campers arrive and with that your days have gotten increasingly busier. Your days are jam packed with activities, meals, and chores that you barely have time to relax.

There’s a bonfire scheduled, marking the end of the camper’s first week and you've gotten yourself put on s'mores duty. You’re on your way to the mess hall to gather supplies when you stop to catch your breath. The sun is starting to set, casting a warm golden hue across the sky and painting the world around you in a soft amber.

You hear Joel before you see him — low, rough grunts cutting through the otherwise still evening air. Then the sound of impact, the sharp crack of wood splitting beneath an axe. It’s rhythmic, almost methodical. You follow the noise until you catch sight of Joel near the edge of the tree line. His jaw is set and his body moves with a quiet, commanding force. His movements are fluid, like he’s done this a thousand times, and it’s oddly mesmerizing. You're stuck on the way his brow furrows slightly in concentration, and how the muscles in his forearms flex each time the axe makes contact with the wood. Your eyes follow the curve of his back and yet he doesn’t seem to notice you, focused entirely on the task at hand. 

You tell yourself it’s nothing —  sheer curiosity. Your breath catches when he pauses to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and you feel that all too familiar flutter in your stomach. All of a sudden your skin feels too warm. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this but you’re drawn in. It’s stupid and irrational. But you stay there, rooted to the ground. Watching. Wanting.

You’re lost in thought, standing there longer than you should, when you hear his voice. He’s paused for a moment, leaning on his axe and looking over at you from across the clearing. His eyes are warm as they meet yours, and for a brief second, you wonder if he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking. “You need somethin’, darlin’?” 

Your mind completely blanks because he says it so easy — darlin’. Like it's habit. The way it just rolls off his tongue in that fucking drawl lodges somewhere deep in your chest. You can’t help it when you picture him saying it whispered against your neck or groaned into your mouth. Softer. Rougher. Closer. A pang of want shoots through you, uncoiling the memory of how his name had left your mouth just a few nights before.

You blink, trying to recover with a shrug. “Just headed to the mess to grab some marshmallows for tonight. Stopped for some air.”

It’s a weak excuse. You both know it. Joel tilts his head with a stupid smirk on his face, like he knows your innermost thoughts, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he brings down the axe and plants it into the chopping block with one clean motion. He wipes the sweat from his palm, dragging the back of his hand across his jaw, making your mouth go dry.

“You sure?” he asks, almost amused. “You’re lookin’ a lil’ flushed.”

Truthfully, you're burning up. Not just from the Texas heat but from embarrassment, from arousal, from the fact that standing this close to him makes your skin feel too tight. You give a quiet laugh, praying to get through this without doing or saying something incredibly stupid.

He watches you, keenly aware of how you're not able to stand still. “Alright then, best be gettin’ back to it.” He straightens up, resting the axe on his shoulder. His gaze lingers on you longer than expected, eyes steady and curious. “I’ll see you there?” His voice drops just a little, like he’s testing the waters, waiting for your answer. There’s something in the way he says it — casual, but with a hint of something more beneath the surface that makes you forget how to breathe.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You feel embarrassed about the way you’ve been yourself around Joel. You know you’ve crossed the line into full-on delusion and the weight of that crushes you. The bonfire is a blast — filled with food, laughter, and games — yet you’ve spent the whole night weaving through the crowd, trying to keep your distance from Joel without it being obvious.

“There you are,” Joel’s voice cuts through the noise, calm but with that fucking drawl that makes your knees instantly turn to jelly. You freeze, and can feel your heart speed up. “I’ve been lookin’ for you all night.”

You glance up, meeting his steady gaze. He has that quiet intensity that makes your chest tighten. You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out right away. He steps closer, closing the distance between you, and suddenly the noise around you feels miles away. He doesn’t reach for you. Doesn’t touch you. But, he's close enough that he could. Close enough that you would let him. 

“Figured you were busy,” you say, trying to play it off with a shrug, eyes flicking toward the firelight. “Important camp director stuff, you know?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, tilting his head like he sees right through your flimsy excuse. “Yeah? Funny, I’ve been ‘round. You somehow missed every place I was.”

You open your mouth — maybe to deny it, maybe to play it off, but he doesn’t give you the chance. “Wanna go for a walk?” It’s simple. Uncomplicated. He waits, quiet and steady, like he’s leaving the door wide open and daring you to step through it.

The world zooms back out and the noise of the bonfire grows louder, ringing in your ears. You're confused by what he's asking; it's not like you can both just toss aside your responsibilities.  "We can't just up and leave, Joel. I've got to get my campers to bed soon." 

Joel squints at you, the embers of the fire crackling in his irises and then laughs, shrugging nonchalantly. "C'mon. I'm sure these kids are beggin' you to stay up a little longer."

You shake your head, rolling your eyes. "You're the boss."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The path curves away from the noise of the bonfire, and neither of you says much at first. The only sound is distant laughter and the crunch of gravel beneath your shoes. The silence stretches thin between you until Joel breaks it with a quiet scoff. “You kids don’t go anywhere without a soundtrack, right?” he mutters, pulling his phone from his back pocket. His voice is dry, a little teasing, like he’s trying to fill the quiet before it reveals too much.

You glance over, watching as he opens Spotify and flips to some self-curated playlist. “I don’t mind the quiet.”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “S’just somethin’ I had on earlier. Good thinkin' music.”

A moment later, soft rock filters through the quiet. Just a warm, steady rhythm and gravel-throated vocals that suit Joel a little too well. He doesn’t say anything else, but the corner of his mouth ticks up when he notices you listening. It’s subtle but intentional, changing the air between you. 

You walk the grounds, going nowhere in particular, content just to be beside him.  There’s no agenda, no rush — just the easy rhythm of your steps falling in sync. Every brush of your shoulder feels louder than it should, every quiet moment charged with something unspoken. You steal glances when you think he won’t notice, but part of you hopes he does.

It gets to be too much and you feel like the silence between you needs to be broken. There’s so much that needs to be said. “Joel?”

“Y’ever hear this band?” he asks.

You blink, surprised — caught off your game. You recognize the unmistakable guitar riffs of Whitesnake. You laugh, the sound warm and easy. “I didn’t take you for an ‘80s hair metal guy.”

Joel shrugs, looking off into the distance as he adjusts his pace. “Music’s music, darlin’.” The words hit you differently than they should — it's just casual, unbothered, confident.

You let the music play as you match his stride. The heavy guitar riffs and loud drums of the song are a bit of a contrast to the serenity around you, but it works. Joel looks over, catching your eye, and for a split second, you’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to comment on the music, or if he's just watching you.

Is this love that I’m feeling? Is this the love that I’ve been searching for? Is this love, or am I dreaming? This must be love 'cause it's really got a hold on me. A hold on me. 

“Well?” 

For a second, you forget the path under your feet, your heart stumbling slightly, a beat too fast. The question feels loaded. It feels like there’s something to be said from the lyrics, from the way the music swells, from the quiet proximity between you and Joel. You know you’re reading too much into it, but the way he’s looking at you, the faint smile pulling at his lips—it feels like he might be saying something.

“Have you…ever?” You hesitate, not sure what you’re about to ask. 

Have you ever wanted me? Have you ever thought about us?  

“Once.” His words feel like a confession only meant for himself as he answer.  Joel’s eyes meet yours, and before you speak, he says quietly, “Maybe twice, been tryin’ to sort that out.”

You hold his gaze, your breath completely knocked out of you. Before you can ask what that really means, the distant whoop of a bullhorn snaps you both back to reality.

Joel glances over his shoulder, the moment breaking like fragile glass. “We should head back,” he says, his voice low but steady.

You nod, swallowing the weight of what just passed between you as you turn back toward the glow of the bonfire in the distance, both of you silent, the question hanging heavy in the air.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The campgrounds are just starting to stir when the first few kids emerge, stretching and yawning into the misty morning air. You’re not much of a morning person but when Joel had asked if you wanted to join, you had nodded yes before you even knew what you were getting into. "Just me and a bunch 'an early risers," he had said sort of offhandedly. 

Now, at almost 6 am, you walk alongside them, Sarah included, pretending your heart isn’t still caught — pretending you didn’t hear something in his voice that made you wonder what he’d meant when he said once. 

“Do you think the camp’s haunted?”, one of the girls asks, voice hushed like the trees might be listening. The others giggle, too loud, glancing at the weather-worn cabins lining the trail, slouched with age

“Definitely haunted,” Sarah adds grinning, the mischief in her eyes catching you off guard. “I bet if we spent the night in one, we’d see some creepy stuff.”

You glance over at Joel just as he cuts his eyes toward you, already amused. There’s that twitch at the corner of his mouth — the look he gets right before he messes with someone. “Nah.  It ain’t haunted. Not unless you count the rats that like to make their homes in the walls’. That’s about as spooky as it gets.”

The kids immediately look more relieved, but their apprehension doesn’t entirely fade. “But, you know, back in the day, this place wasn’t a camp at all. It was a military outpost. Texas was home to a bunch of ‘em during World War II. This whole place has seen more history than most people realize. Nothing in ‘em now but dust and memories.” You watch the kids drink in the story, caught somewhere between spooked and skeptical. Then Joel stretches, like he’s about to stroll into a horror movie on purpose. “But if you’re that scared,” he says, straight-faced, “guess I better check it out for you, make sure no ghosts moved in since yesterday.”

Before anyone can stop him, Joel walks up to the cabin with that easy confidence of his, “Guess I gotta prove it’s just a bunch of creaky floorboards.” The kids fall silent, watching as he disappears inside. Then— thud . A sharp crash rattles through the cabin walls, followed by a muffled “Shit.” 

A few of the kids gasp. One grabs your arm. You fight the urge to laugh. “That ghost sounds suspiciously like Joel twisting his ankle.” You exchange a glance with Sarah, who’s now standing next to you, a look of concern mixed with a bit of humor on her face.  You can’t tell if he’s actually hurt or playing some sort of trick.  Okay,” you whisper to the children, eyes still on the cabin, “just act normal. Like we’re talking about the weather or something. I’ll sneak in and see what he’s up to. Bet he’s just waiting to jump out and scare the livin' hell out of me.” They nod, barely holding in their giggles as you start toward the cabin, half-annoyed, half-expecting him to be hiding behind the door with a smug grin.

You take a breath and literally run into the cabin, only to immediately feel a hand grasp at your ankle and pull you down. You stumble and fall, crashing hard onto something solid beneath you. Joel’s grunt is the first thing you hear, followed by a sharp exhale as you land on top of him. Your breath hitches, and you instinctively gasp, but before the sound can escape, his hand is quick to cover your mouth. The warmth of his palm against your lips feels like a jolt of electricity and you freeze, feeling his body tense beneath you. He doesn’t move, his chest rising and falling beneath yours as the only indication that he’s still there. His eyes are wide, barely inches from your face, and there's a flash of something in them you can’t quite place. After a long moment, he lifts his hand away from your mouth, but keeps you there — close enough that you can feel every muscle in his body, every breath he takes.

The weight of the moment presses down on you, and you realize that, for all the history this place carries, this moment feels like it could be one of its most significant.

Your eyes search his face, seeking permission, a silent question hanging in the air between you. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes, and for a heartbeat, everything else fades away. The world outside the cabin vanishes. It's just the two of you, suspended in a moment that feels both timeless and fleeting.

Just as you lean in, heart pounding, breath mingling with his in that suspended moment you’ve been waiting for forever, a sudden voice cuts through the silence completely breaking the spell. The anticipation snaps like a fragile thread. “Dad?”

You both freeze, eyes locked on one another. The word hangs in the air, sharp and unexpected. She can’t see you — not yet — but Joel gently shifts, creating space between you. You turn toward the doorway, where Sarah stands, her expression a mix of confusion and concern.

Joel clears his throat, his voice steady. “We’re good, just tripped over some old floorboards.” You both sit up, brushing dust from your clothes, like your world wasn't about to just tilt on its axis.

“Okay, just checking.”

As she turns to leave, Joel catches your eye, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You turn to leave but he grabs your hand with a sharp urgency — like he’s holding on to something that might slip away if he lets go. The moment may have been interrupted, but its significance lingers, unspoken yet understood.

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors:) Sleepwalking: Due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend's band. You thought you've both made peace with it, but suddenly he's very eager to prove to you that first love never dies. https://taexual.tumblr.com/post/728185560199577601/sleepwalking-1-jjk

I'd Love To Stay But That's Simply Insane: Jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you're a goal-oriented top student that's known his rich and complicated family since childhood. You don't want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do. https://taexual.tumblr.com/post/616477412997414912/id-love-you-to-stay-but-thats-simply-insane

Pub Golf: One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. https://taleasnewastime.tumblr.com/post/667208016185212928/summary-one-night-one-stupidly-hot-man-who-just

Yes Coach: You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point. https://taleasnewastime.tumblr.com/post/653257951195365376/yes-coach

Tempter: 𝐓hey told tales of the twilight creature to the loveless ones that roamed the woods at the sun’s setting hour. When the orange rays crept through the living, breathing trees and painted the soil gold, made the poison ivy too beautiful and inviting to 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩. They spoke of a beauty that they could not describe, of a voice that reflected the purity of heaven alongside the burning fires of hell as he prayed upon them. https://themfchase.tumblr.com/post/615289283146842112/%F0%9D%90%93%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%8C%F0%9D%90%8F%F0%9D%90%93%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%91-%F0%9D%98%9B%F0%9D%98%A9% F0%9D%98%A6-%F0%9D%98%9B%F0%9D%98%B8%F0%9 D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%AD%F0%9D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%A8%F0%9D%98%A9%F0%9D%98%B5-%F0%9D%98%8A%F0%9D%98%B3%F0%9D %98%A6%F0%9D%98%A2%F0%9D%98%B5%F0%9D%98%B6%F0%9D%98%B3%F0%9D%98%A6-jjk

Raven Unit: With your life at risk and several people around you dead, your loyal head of security makes sure your safety is taken care of when he’s out of the picture. Three ruthless, dangerous and deadly men take on the task to protect and hide you, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok and the one in command, Jeon Jungkook.  https://themfchase.tumblr.com/post/189288109708/raven-unit-i-m-jjk

Hate Me: You really do hate Jeon Jungkook. You hate everything about him. From his strong veiny arms to his obnoxiously pretty face.   https://themfchase.tumblr.com/post/632321712395026432/hate-me-m-jjk The Art Of Wanting: You find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you. https://www.tumblr.com/venusiangguk/643372881526554624/pairing-jungkook-x-reader-dilfjk-x-grocery?source=embed

Down The Rabbit Hole: Yoongi's sister buys tickets to the Autumn ball held within the Meadows, a notorious city known for its hybrid inhabitants where she hopes to meet a certain bunny princeling. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23781145 Rabbit Season: Predator met prey like an Animal Planet rerun of lions devouring antelopes in large, unremorseful bites. He took every aspect of this game seriously. He was competitive where most might not think so in this particular arena. His behavior projected through television, even while in person, was an act, perhaps the best he’d ever performed in front of his every day audience. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23781727

[greenarrow-core]

THE COMPLETE GREEN ARROW BY DENNIS O'NEIL - READING GUIDE

On The Order:

Reading this chronologically woudn't really work. He retconned his own work(for the better). However, there are notes here that would allow you to easily organize things chronologically.

There are some stories here that don't really have Green Arrow that much. You will know which ones as there will be notes on them pointing that out.

The Retconned Story and The Retcon Story:

To read chronologically without facing contradictions, just skip JLA #75 and DC Super-Stars #17, And instead read Peacemakers and The Arrow and the Bat before JLA #66.

PRE-CRISIS

DENNIS O'NEIL'S RUN ON JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA

This is the run in which everything starts. Anarchist Green Arrow, Black Canary in the League, GA and BC relationship...

He doesn't show up in 3 issues of the run(70, 73-74).

This run is also very important for Black Canary. And their relationship. This is where everything starts. Black Canary on the JLA, anarchist Green Arrow. BC and GA's relationship...

Justice League of America #66, 68-75, 77-83

GA doesn't show up in 3 issues: #70, 73-74

The latter part of this run was released during the beginning of GL/GA

PRE-CRISIS ORDER:

The order here is the DCUGuide order.

JLA #66, 68-75, 77-80

Green Lantern #76-77

JLA #81

Green Lantern #78-79

JLA #82-83

Green Lantern #80-83

Superman #236(b)

Here my bias showing. It's a short story about Krypton. GA and BC are listening to Superman telling this story. I really like this one. It's worth checking out. You get cool moments for GA and BC in the first and last page of this.

Green Lantern #84-86, 89

The Flash #217-219(b stories)

Green Lantern #90-99

DC Super-Stars #17(a)

Origin story in a flashback. The non-flashback part is following up on JLA #75

Green Lantern #102-106, 108-115

World's Finest Comics #256(b)

Team-up with Black Lighting, part of O'Neil's run on BL

Green Lantern #116-122

DC Comics Presents #20

POST-CRISIS

FROM THE QUESTION BY DENNIS O'NEIL

These stories are from O'Neil's Question run.

The Question #17-18

FABLES

Detective Comics Annual #1

Green Arrow Annual #1

The Question Annual #1

LOSING/SAVING FACE

The Question Annual #2

Green Arrow Annual #2

Green Arrow Annual #3

Epilogue of The Question's 1986 series.

THE RING, THE ARROW AND THE BAT

All stories from now on are team-ups with either Batman or Green Lantern.

Batman/Green Arrow: The Poison Tomorrow

Justice League Task Force #5-6

Part of Knightquest: The Search

Not that much Green Arrow

PEACEMAKERS

Legends of the DC Universe #7-9

This is a tale of how GA came to be the character O'Neil made him be. It retcons JLA #75

O'Neil characterize this as a Year One-type story

It works with the post-zero hour continuity. Just doesn't match certain elements of O'Neil's JLA run

It leads to GL/GA

It matches fine with GL/GA

Due to Ollie's characterization, this would have happened before JLA #66

THE ARROW AND THE BAT

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #127-131

Sequel of Peacemakers

It's set before the last scene of Peacemakers.

DC Retroactive: Green Lantern - The '70s

This one ties Peacemakers and The Longbow Hunters.

It would fit right after the next story.

TIME ALONE

Green Lantern 80th Anniversary Super Spectacular(d)

Last published O'Neil work.

I don't know where this would fit. I would guess before Green Lantern #172. For Green Arrow, that would be after DC Comics Presents #20

[coochiequeens]

Women are incredibly dedicated listeners,” Megan Lazovick, VP at Edison Research, said, noting that the average woman spends nearly three hours daily listening to music. Hispanic women listen even more—over four hours per day."

For American women, music is more than a backdrop—it's a daily companion, a form of emotional support, and a shared experience that connects families and spans generations. And radio continues to be a vital part of that soundtrack.

That’s the picture painted by new findings from Edison Research and SiriusXM Media, presented during a webinar Tuesday exploring how women engage with music and what it means for advertisers.

“Music is omnipresent,” said Megan Lazovick, VP at Edison Research. “Women across all demographics deeply integrate music into their daily routines.”

The study, based on a national sample of 2,500 women age 18 and older who have listened to audio in the past month, found that 84% had consumed music during that time. Among all audio content types, music dominates women’s listening—accounting for 77% of their daily audio time.

While streaming platforms now lead in music discovery, traditional AM/FM radio continues to play a significant role. Nearly half (49%) of women surveyed said they still turn to radio to discover new music—just behind YouTube and social sharing from friends and family. SiriusXM indexed even higher among women aged 55+, reinforcing radio's continued relevance among older audiences.

“Women are incredibly dedicated listeners,” Lazovick said, noting that the average woman spends nearly three hours daily listening to music. Hispanic women listen even more—over four hours per day.

Music’s Dual Roles In Women’s Lives

The study finds music plays both emotional and practical roles. Among respondents, 85% said music is a powerful stress reliever, 81% use it to escape, and 77% say it brings back memories of better times. For many, it's an antidote to daily pressures and an emotional anchor during tough moments. Music also offers a sense of reliability and companionship according to the research.

“Music serves as a form of medicine,” said Melissa Paris, VP of Sales Research at SiriusXM Media. She noted the emotional weight music carries, helping women navigate stress, grief, family challenges, and mental health struggles.

In fact, 87% of women surveyed say they turn to music to cope with life’s difficulties. The top emotional benefits include stress relief (85%), escape (81%), and feelings of nostalgia or connection to better times (77%).

But the relationship isn’t purely emotional—music plays a practical role too. Over half of women say it helps pass time or makes mundane tasks more enjoyable. Nearly a quarter use it to help concentrate on challenging tasks. Music also helps structure family life, with many using it to entertain children, calm them, or establish daily routines.

The study revealed that music is often a shared experience within households. Among women with children under 18, 92% say their kids listen to music, and 89% listen alongside them. “Music bridges generations,” Paris said, recalling dancing with her daughter to Taylor Swift’s “22” at a concert as one of her most cherished memories.

The data showed this bond is especially strong among multicultural mothers. Additionally, 78% of women agree that music improves their child’s mood, and 72% say it helps spark imagination—making music a screen-free way to both entertain and educate.

Women also turn to music to help with daily tasks—whether it’s staying entertained while doing chores or establishing routines for their children. Nearly half of moms surveyed use music to calm or entertain their kids, and 78% agree music is a great screen-free tool.

The study found that music listening is often shared. Among women with children under 18, 89% say they listen to music with their kids. That figure rises among multicultural mothers, who report even higher rates of shared listening. Many say they use music to expose their children to various genres or their cultural heritage.

What Women Listen To

Genre preferences vary across demographics. Women 18-34 gravitate toward hip-hop, indie rock, and Spanish-language music. Women 55 and older prefer classic rock, classical, and oldies—formats often associated with radio. In fact, genre variety and curated playlists are among the reasons many women continue to turn to broadcast and satellite radio despite the rise of streaming.

The study also highlights the growing desire for female representation in music. Among women aged 18-34, 37% say most of the artists they listen to are female—compared to just 8% among women 55 and older. Younger listeners also feel deeper personal connections to artists, particularly when they’re visible in media, collaborate with other women, or support relatable causes.

That emotional connection extends to brands. Women are primary decision-makers in areas such as grocery shopping, health and wellness, and family finance—and 85% recall hearing ads in these categories while listening to music.

“Music offers a uniquely powerful platform for authentic brand connections,” Lazovick said. “The smart brands are paying attention and supporting these young voices.”

Top recalled ad categories included movies and TV, restaurants, and streaming video. Adding audio ads can now be dynamically personalized by genre, time of day, and even weather—giving brands real-time opportunities to be present in meaningful moments.

“Music is not just background noise,” Paris said. “It’s an integral part of women’s identities, relationships, and daily experiences. It's a powerful medium for authentic brand connections.

Ladies, who are you listening to? Please share your recommendations. Especially for women artists

[inbetweencoffees]

mock exam preparation🗒️

I feel less anxious than yesterday and my neurobiology exam went a lot better than expected! Managed to do 7/8 tasks so I’m pretty confident about my grade :) Went home, had lunch and then worked through the 8 pages of history homework on the Cuba crisis and Korean War. (Yup, half the text is highlighted- people tend to make fun of me for it but it helps me remember things; that way I can remember exactly what information was stored on what part of the page)🌀

Today and tomorrow will be spent at my desk studying for my 4 hour long politics mock exam on Thursday. We got 84 (yes, 84- not 48) pages of material to go through. I’m already loosing my mind and all I did was download everything…

[livsoulsecrets]

Batfam + References to being family (Part 9)

Part 8

Bruce in Batman #115: “I stay calm because over many years I’ve built a family of my own. They are immensely capable.”

Jason to Tim in Task Force Z #8: “What are a few broken bones between brothers?”

Bruce to Dick in Nightwing #84: “I watched my parents die in that alley. I wasn’t going to let that happen to my son.”

Babs in Nightwing #84:

The have a family group chat, as shown in Nightwing #83:

In Nightwing #78, Alfred calls Dick his son in a letter to him:

Dick calls Tim his brother in Nightwing #80:

Part 10