#they’ll refuse to do the dishes

[peacheclair]

.

[coolguycy]

Having siblings sucks it’s like having terrible roommates who you can’t kick out

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[azsazz]

A Snowy Starfall

Daddy!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Batbabies waging their OWN snowball fight imitating their dad & uncles. Some take it too seriously, others don't take it seriously at all, it's pure chaos that ends in cocoa.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,003

Notes: Happy Holidays my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Come on, you three,” you tut towards your mate and his friends. They’re standing before the large glass windows overlooking your backyard. The sun casts deep oranges and reds across the snow-ridden land, your children shrieking as they play in the snow. A valiant snowball fight is running its course, and Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stand, faces pressed to the windows as they watch, quietly cheering their children on. “They’re going to notice you staring.”

“Maybe they already have,” Feyre adds from her spot at your kitchen counter. She’s concentrating intently on decorating a cookie, adding swirls of black icing to the gingerbread woman’s hand, creeping up her extended arm. The cookie’s dress is provocative, bare dough legs showing between slats of laced icing. She hardly glances up as she continues, “They’re probably imitating them as we speak.”

Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.

Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.

Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.

You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.

“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”

“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”

Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.

Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”

Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.

His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.

“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”

Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.

Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.

“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”

“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.

“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies. 

Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection. 

“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”

His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.

Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.

By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”

“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness. 

Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.

“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms. 

“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his. 

It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien. 

“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”

“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”

“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”

“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.” 

You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.

“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”

Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”

Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words. 

“What a kiss ass.”

“Smug fucker.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.” 

He winces, “Sorry love.” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, bouncing Knox in your arms a little as you turn fully from your mate. You poke Knox’s belly playfully before addressing the rest of the room. “How about those cookies, then? They won’t decorate themselves!”

[taurasiscntybun]

Home for the Holidays

- DT x younger femme

- 18+ minors dni

-Fluff and Smut

-Warnings: Age gap, Mommy kinky, public sex, oral sex, strap on, praise kink, risky sex, breeding kink

-5.9k words (giving yall a long one to make up for lack of posting don’t yell at me)

- inspired by a h*rny idea dm from @taurasicomplex

“You have to behave Dee, I’m serious.” You sigh and turn in your seat to look at her. She hums in response and drums her long fingers on the steering wheel.

“You like it when I’m naughty though baby.” She teases and steals a glance at you at the red light.

“That may be true but my parents are already in a tizzy over the age difference; I don’t want to give them any more reason to dislike you.” You say with a sigh. Diana was closer to your parents age than yours and it had been the topic of plenty of heated family discussions. Now you were bringing her home for the holidays; meeting everyone at once.

“I know baby, I’m not gonna do anything I think will piss off your parents. I even wore this stupid ass sweater for you to show I’ve got Christmas spirit. But if they already hate me, what can I do?” She accelerates the car and you stare out the window again, not sure of a good answer. The twinkling lights of your ridiculous matching Christmas sweaters seeming to mock your intense thought. Diana had refused to wear the sweater at first; a giant rudolph with Christmas lights strung through his antlers, the Christmas lights that actually turned on.

“Well the good thing is. my cousins will be there and they’re all very excited I'm dating a professional basketball player, I’m sure they’d rather I be dating someone with an NBA salary, but whatever.” You joke, and Diana snorts a laugh.

“It’s not like you’re in need.” She raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at your designer dress as you swat her arm.

“You bought me this for my birthday, you old witch!” You protest, but the laugh is evident in your voice.

“And you look fucking sexy in it; I should have made rules about when you can wear it. Although the giant reindeer covering your gorgeous tits is a bit of a bummer.” Diana groans, and you bite your lip. It isn’t a revealing dress but it certainly flatters your figure and shows off your legs. You’d made it even more modest by adding your sweater on top. Obviously you had to walk in looking the best; you hadn’t seen most of these people in a year. You probably already won bragging rights by dating a multi gold medalist, but it didn’t hurt to look the best too. The road opens up and Diana places her right hand on your thigh, not scandalously but as a casually intimate gesture; wanting to touch you as much as possible.

“People like you Dee, I’m sure they’ll warm up fast.” You cover her hand with your smaller one and turn to look out the window again.

“Everyone keeps staring at me.” Diana says through gritted teeth as she walks with you to the kitchen, a large stack of dishes in her hand.

“Well you’re the first girlfriend I’ve brought home, you’re significantly older, and you’re a professional athlete… there’s plenty of reasons for them to stare.” You answer in a resigned tone as you sit your pile of dishes in the sink.

“They could at least try to be normal.” She grumbles and scrapes her food into the trash before joining you at the sink.

“Well subtlety isn’t a family trait obviously.” You grab the sponge from the counter and squeeze dish soap on it.

“Your parents don’t have a dishwasher?” Diana asks in astonishment. You laugh and shake your head.

“They do, but it’s a shitty one so everything needs a bit of pre-wash. Personally I think that defeats the purpose, but mom is happy. It just means big meals like this are a pain.” You swipe the sponge over the first dish.

“If you hand me them I’ll load the dishwasher.” Diana offers, having spotted the old appliance. You nod and hand her the dish. You two continue in silent domesticity.

“Alright the washers full babe, we’ll just have to do another load” Her arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against her. You let out a quiet gasp and turn to look over your shoulder at her with a grin.

“Are you sure you know how to load a dishwasher? You’re a hazard in the kitchen usually.” You tease and spin around to face her. Diana’s hands quickly travel down to grope your ass through your dress.

“Not being able to help cook means I’ve cleaned up after plenty of meals, baby.” She leans forward slightly, forcing your back to arch against the sink.

“Well I’ll trust you then.” You concede, your tone breathier than you’d like. Diana squeezes your ass again and nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck.

“If you’d move in with me like I asked you’d know I can load a dishwasher.” She grumbles, her words muffled as she leaves open mouthed kisses up down the column of your neck.

“We…we’ll talk about that later, Dee, and this…” Your words trail off as Diana sucks lightly at your pulse point, her hands kneading your ass.

“Now we’ve gotten through dinner, are we allowed to leave? And we will talk about it later” Her words are gruff with impatience, the warmth of her breath ghosting across your neckline.

“N..not yet… we have the Christmas cake.” You stutter and grip the counter tighter, your breath growing shallow as her kisses move lower towards the collar of your sweater. Suddenly you hear voices approaching and you straighten up, Diana pulling away but keeping a hand on the small of your back.

“I think they’re gonna come looking for us, baby. Now tell me about this Christmas cake we have to be there for.” She gives your ass one last pat.

“Yeah I know, it’s a whole thing, basically there’s a coin somewhere in the cake and whoever gets that slice has luck for the year. So we all have to sit at the table and eat.” You explain and join the rest of your family in the dining room.

“That sounds fu-“ Diana is cut off by your mothers voice

“ ‘bout time you got back in here.” She calls, clearly a little annoyed at your delay.

“Sorry mom, but we loaded the dishwasher. And yes we cleaned them off first.” You placate and take your seat at the table, Diana next to you. She subtly scoots her chair a little closer to yours before sitting.

“Yes, well in your girlfriend's forty-two years you’d think she’d learn to load a dishwasher a little faster.” Your father mutters under his breath, clearly the most disapproving. You feel Diana’s hand on your thigh reassuringly. She’s told you the age comments don’t bother her much, but it bothered you. It didn’t matter how much older she was, you loved her and she cherished you like the most precious thing.

“I do keep telling you to get a new dishwasher.” You say out loud, calling him out for his comment.

“Oh well. It’s fine now, they’re here and we can cut the cake.” Your mother titters and brandishes a knife.

“Of course mom we’ll all be respectful at the table.” You shoot your father and other whispering family members looks. The cake had been your contribution to dinner, making sure the most fun aspect was vegan for Diana. The knife hovers over the cake as your mother glances at the table one more time before cutting; the spongy cake giving way immediately.

“The whole coin thing seems fun; what’s the success rate?” Diana teases and the table seems to take a breath of relief that she isn’t bothered by your fathers comments.

“Oh I don’t know, last year I got the coin, a couple weeks later I met you.” You answer before anyone else has a chance, turning to look at her.

“Your dad got it two years ago and had a promotion at work, so I’ll cross my fingers.” Your mom says and divvies out the small plates of cake to the table. Diana’s hand slips higher, her pinky teasing the hem of your dress.

“A good two years in a row? Maybe if I find it you’ll move in with me?” Diana asks, her voice barely audible as she leans over to whisper in your ear. You glance around the table at your odds.

“Fine.” You took yours and Diana’s plates from your mother, standing slightly to lean across the table. Diana uses the opportunity to slide her hand under your dress. The plates clatter down in front of you, rougher than you intended but the jolt of desire shooting through made your brain slow down.

“This is different from last year, did you use a new recipe, honey?” Your aunt calls from across the table, a fork full of cake paused at her mouth.

“Oh yeah, uh it’s a vegan cake so Dee can have some.” You state confidently and softly run your hand down her arm, the sleeves of the sweater pushed up to reveal her freckled skin. She squeezes your thigh in response, her pinky almost grazing the hem of your panties.

“Huh, I just think with family tradition..” your aunt starts but you cut her off.

“We’re still doing the whole tradition; I just made a cake that will include all of us.” You retort with an air of finality on the subject. Diana’s finger traces your panties as if rewarding you. She looks at you with warm eyes and gives you an appreciative smile.

“I’m glad to be included.” She says innocently her hand shifting so her ring finger circles your clit. You suck in a harsh breath and shoot her a glare. She ignores you; taking a bite of cake, her finger not stopping its maddening circle.

“D…Dee” you whisper and look up at her with wide eyes.

“Hmmm? Taste your cake baby, I wanna know if you got the coin.” She answers loudly, using her free hand to take another bite. You pick up your fork and take a moment to try and still your trembling hand. She smirks at you, middle finger moving to run up and down your clothed slit.

“Well I’m not the lucky one this year, and honey, the cake was great. I didn't even notice it being vegetarian or whatever.” Your dad proclaims and pushes his empty plate away.

“V..vegan” you correct and try to steady your breath. You know your skin must be flushing as your panties continue to dampen under her touch. Your dad makes a non-answer huffing noise and turns his attention to your uncle next to him. The rest of your family continues to talk, their voices and small laughs drowned out by the feeling of her nimble fingers against you, just a thin strip of fabric separating you.

“So what’s the plan for Christmas morning usually?” Diana asks and takes another bite of her cake. Her middle finger hooks in your underwear and she slowly pushes it to the side. You jump in your seat and paste on a smile as she finally touches your cunt.

“Honey, are you ok?” Your mother asks and looks at you concerned. You smile and quickly shovel more cake in your mouth.

“O..oh look I didn’t get the coin.” You say in a slightly high pitched tone. Diana teases your sensitive clit and you bite your lip.

“I got the coin!” Diana says happily and holds up the coin proudly, pulling her hand away from you like it was nothing. She subtly wipes her hand on her pants.

“Congratulations honey! I hope some of that luck rubs off.” Your mother looks from Diana to you and winks. Your brain stumbles to catch up as your pussy throbs for her touch.

“Oh my god! Yay Dee!” You compose yourself and lean over to hug her, deciding it was an appropriate amount of PDA. She grins happily and pats your arm around her lovingly.

The couch sinks under Diana’s weight and she immediately pulls you close to her. She takes a sip of her red wine before sitting it on the end table. After dinner everyone had either left for their hotel or had retired to the living room with a glass of wine. Since your parents were hosting, you and Diana would be staying in your childhood bedroom. Your family was nice enough to set her up a pallet of blankets on the floor to sleep on, of course in reality she would be squished in the full size bed with you.

“Yeah I’ve been to six Olympics.” Diana answers your cousin's question you didn’t hear, too focused on how your body feels on fire with need for her.

“That’s so cool, is it true there’s like anti-sex beds?” He leans forward in his chair, suddenly interested in your girlfriend.

“I googled you before you came, you’re pretty good at basketball.” Your dad tells her and reclines in his chair. Diana smiles politely at their words, used to this kind of questioning.

“Uh, yes they have cardboard beds, but I don’t know if the rumor is true they’re anti-sex beds, and thank you, I try.” Diana answers easily, her arm draped over your shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of your hair. You glance up at the clock on the wall hoping it was late enough that you could excuse yourself for bed. You needed a cold shower. As if reading your mind Diana drains the last of her wine and speaks.

“You know I’m pretty tired from the drive here, I hope you guys don’t mind if I head to bed early. Wanna be well rested for Christmas you know.” Diana says and stands from the couch. Obediently you stand up with her, your mother pauses her conversation and looks up at the clock.

“We’ll uh see you in the morning?” You smile and notice Diana already heading up the stairs, clearly not caring for approval.

“Oh…ok well, goodnight sweetie.” Your mom furrows her brows but no one else presses the subject as you follow Diana up the stairs. Out of sight Diana pushes you against the door to your room, her lips immediately finding yours in a frantic kiss.

“W..wait Diana we.. we can't, my whole family is down there.” You protest weakly and fumble behind you for the doorknob. Diana kisses up your neck, hand tangled in your hair.

“You’ll have to be quiet then baby, don’t want your mom to hear you call someone else mommy.” She whispers in your ear, her voice low and husky. Finally you find the knob and you stumble into your room. She quickly follows and closes the door behind her, twisting the lock. It doesn’t take much for you to give in; you wanted her, your body aching for her touch. She was right, you’d just have to be quiet. Diana walks you back against the bed.

“First, I’m taking off this fucking sweater.” She unceremoniously tugs the light up sweater over her head, balling it up and tossing it into her suitcase.

“Take your dress off baby.” She instructs, her tone hushed and starts to undo the buttons of her shirt. Quickly you rip off your sweater too and fumble behind you for the zipper of your dress. Your fingers trembled with excitement.

“Too slow” Diana softly chides and reaches behind you to drag the cool metal zipper down your skin. You tug the dress off as she sits her shirt to the side and unbuckles her dark jeans.

“I don’t know if you’re going to be mad or excited..” Diana speaks softly and bends over her suitcase, digging around a moment before pulling out a… familiar sight.

“You brought the fucking strap to my family Christmas?!” You whisper yell and she raises her hands placatingly, the object in question still in one of her hands.

“Baby, I think it’s gonna come in handy, don’t you?” She asks and starts to pull her jeans down. “Come in handy so you don’t have to cum from a handy.” She jokes, clearly proud of her wordplay and you snort a laugh.

“We can’t make noise Dee.” You warn softly, but don’t say no. Diana gives you a wild grin and steps out of her jeans and boxers, walking back to you on the bed in a few quick strides.

“Th..the headboard” You whisper worriedly and glance over at the wooden headboard.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna move an inch. I’m gonna lay on the bed, and you're gonna ride mommy’s cock.” She hooks the harness in place around her hips as she speaks softly. Diana pushes you back onto the bed, her taller frame covering yours as she trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

“Take everything off.” She whispers in your ear, her voice laced with her own need. You nod quickly and unhook your bra, and Diana pulls it off you, same with your damp panties.

“Fuck baby, I’ve been thinking about this all day.” She groans and sucks one of your nipples into her mouth eliciting a moan from you. One hand braces herself on the bed and the other grips your inner thigh as she speaks. You arch your back, pressing your chest more into her.

“It was so sexy seeing you stand up for me, I think you deserve a reward.” She says against your skin, swapping to lavish your other nipple with attention. Her tongue circling the sensitive flesh before sucking it into her mouth.

“Diana… mommy please.” You moan and writhe under her.

“Shhh baby, you don’t want anyone to hear do you?” Her fingers run down your slit and she gently presses her middle finger into your wet pussy. You bite your lip, stifling a moan.

“Gotta test how wet you are for me.” Diana’s voice is soft as she thrusts her finger maddeningly slow.

“M..more please” You whisper and she chuckles, adding her index finger and scissoring them open.

“Fuck” You whimper quietly at the delicious stretch.

“You’re so tight baby, gotta get you ready.” She groans in response, flicking her tongue over your nipple. Diana moves her thumb to your clit, her fingers moving at an achingly slow speed.

“Please.” You beg softly and she grins against your breast. She speeds up her thrusts, curling her fingers inside to tease your most sensitive areas. Diana kisses and sucks from your breasts to your mouth, kissing you passionately, her breathing almost as ragged as yours.

“M..more, mommy” You whisper, your voice strained with whiny need as you break the kiss.

“You want my cock baby? Ask again properly.” Diana half growls, her voice a deep whisper as she pulls her fingers from your wet cunt. She sucks her fingers into her mouth, cleaning your arousal off them.

“Please mommy, I..I need your cock…please” you whine softly and she nods.

“Good girl” Diana rolls off you and pushes herself into the middle of the bed, her back against the headboard, thick dildo jutting up from her hips.

“Come let mommy fill you up baby.” She pulls you toward her and you obediently straddle her hips, her big hands holding your waist and stopping you from sitting.

“Remember you have to be quiet or mommy will have to stop.” She warns and slowly guides you down onto her cock. Diana watches in rapt attention as the dildo pushes into your wet heat. You bite your lip to stop from crying out as you fully seat yourself in her lap; your pussy stretched full.

“Shhhh just like that babygirl, such a good girl.” Diana whispers and reaches for the small remote she’d tossed on the bed. Clicking a button a small vibration starts against both of you. Diana stifles her own moan and starts to guide you up and down her cock.

“So fucking pretty.” She groans softly and pulls you towards her a bit. Diana brings her lips to yours hungrily, half to taste you and half to quiet both your noises. She uses your slightly shifted hips to her advantage and thrusts up into you slowly; meeting your downward movements with her own in a sensual rhythm. One of Diana’s hands wanders from your waist to your abdomen, and pulls you down so she’s fully seated inside you, and then pushes on your belly.

“You feel how good I fill you up baby? Your pussy is mine.” Diana whispers against your lips before thrusting her tongue back in your mouth. You let out a low whimper, your body tightening with your impending orgasm. The combination of the slow thrusts and vibrations making the pleasure build quickly.

”Cl..close” You whisper into her mouth, your body trembling. You feel her lips curl into a smile, her own breathing coming out in short pants.

“Good.. good, fuck, so good baby. I’m close too” She says in a breathy tone, her thrusts growing more erratic as she approaches her orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill up this pretty pussy so full baby” She groans and you slide down her cock one last time; your pussy spasming around her as your orgasm slams through you. You open your mouth in a silent sob as she starts to move you up and down again, chasing her own high.

“I’m so close baby, fuck you’re such a good girl for me baby, I can’t wait until we finally get home after new years and I can fuck you into the mattress.” Diana speaks through gritted teeth, clearly trying to control her noise. You cover your mouth with one hand, not trusting yourself to keep silent, the only sound in the room is your shared pants, quiet moans and the subtle squeak of the bed.

“Fuck! So good for mommy; I’m gonna fill you up so good, fuck, so breedable for me, a perfect little cumslut. Fuck you’re so good, take me so good” Diana groans, her words hardly making sense as she babbles in pleasure, her body stiffening then shuddering under you as she climaxes. After a long while of breathing in unison, she helps you roll off her, your cum dripping out as you do. She pitches forward, collapsing on your chest then rolling over and pulling you into her arms; both of you slick with a light sheen of sweat. Diana smiles up at you, a genuine grin showing her dimple.

“I don’t think I want to be done with you yet baby, you’ve been so good and quiet for me, can you go a little longer?” She mumbles, and buries her head in the valley between your breasts.

“C..clean up?” You whisper back and pull her head away to look at her in question.

“I’m going lay back, and you’re going on all fours, I’m going to eat your sweet cunt while you clean me up too.” Your eyes flutter shut as you picture it.

“Oh fuck, Diana.” You whimper softly, and she lays on her back, lifting her head to grin at you.

“Come here.” Diana says in a soft but demanding tone. You obey immediately, turning and climbing over her, backing until your hips hover over her eager face, your own above her cunt.

“You have the prettiest pussy” She groans quietly and blows a breath on your sensitive folds. Your legs wobble and you sink your head between her open thighs to stabilize yourself. Diana follows your actions, burying her face in your cunt, sucking hungrily at your dripping entrance. Her strong hands hold you open as she devours you. Wanting to match her hunger you thrust your tongue in her core, twisting and curling to tease her inner walls. Her hips buck to meet your face and she moans against your cunt. Both of you were already sensitive from your orgasms, and it wouldn’t take much to send either of you over the edge. You brace your hands on her strong thighs, keeping her legs pushed open. Changing to sucking you move up her folds to her clit, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves into your mouth and flicking your tongue.

“I’m not gonna last much longer baby.” She rasps, lapping at your core, her hips grind against your face as her orgasm approaches. You continue your gentle sucking and lapping at her, wanting to send her over the edge but not make her over sensitive. Diana seems to have no issue with making you cum to the point of pain, her mouth and tongue moving furiously, all the way from your clit to your sensitive asshole.

“Oh my fucking god, oh fuck mommy I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” You start to cry out but stifle your moans in her pussy, suckling at her core as she arches off the bed under you, her pussy spasming around your tongue as you continue to lap at her, cleaning her up once more. Your own core throbbing as you cum, your body trembling above. Diana mirrors your actions, licking your cunt clean once more before pulling away.

“E..enough baby, come here.” She says, her voice gruff from her release. You swing your leg over her and turn around, the whole process slightly awkward as your body recovers from your back to back orgasms. As soon as you’re close enough, Diana gathers you in her arms; pressing a kiss in your hair as she holds you against her chest.

“You’re so fucking amazing baby” She says in a sleepy tone, and you wiggle to pull the covers over both of you.

“You’re so fucking amazing too” You reply in an equally sleepy tone. Diana pulls away and tugs her sports bra over her head, finally completely naked. Immediately you shove your head between her tits, kissing roughly at the slightly sweaty skin. She inhales sharply as you do.

“Such a greedy little thing, now go to bed baby; don’t wanna end up on the naughty list on Christmas Eve.” Diana teases and nuzzles her face in your hair. You fall asleep like that, listening to the steady beat of her heart, her breath ghosting across your skin.

“I don’t understand why we had to stay with your family until New Years” Diana mutters turning to look down at you as she snacked on yet another plain cracker. Your family had tried to include her, deciding after a while that they did like her despite the age gap. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to know the difference between vegan and vegetarian; proudly showing the meatless charcuterie board before the party, of course it was still covered in cheese and honey. You started to explain, but Diana had stopped you, thanking your father for being so thoughtful. It filled you with joy to see Diana put in so much effort for your family; you were used to her not giving a fuck what people thought so it was both endearing and a bit jarring to see her try so hard.

“Well mom misses me, I’m her baby girl and dad loves having the family all under one roof even if he doesn’t show it.” You say and heap cheese onto your own hors d’oeuvres plate. She was right, it had been a long week, while you loved your family it was a difficult dynamic. They treated you like the kid coming home for the holidays, meanwhile they treated Diana as a peer. It shouldn’t bother you, you were their kid, of course they were still going to treat you like a child. Still you couldn’t wait until New Year’s Day when you and Diana could finally leave and start the drive back to Phoenix.

“If your cousin starts listing NBA players and asking if I could beat them again I think I’m going to cuss someone out.” She complains and takes a long sip of her Cabernet.

“He, uh, means well? I think he just doesn’t know anything about women’s basketball and is trying to talk to you.” You pick up a cracker, stacking a slice of cheese on top then dipping it into the honey.

“The charcuterie board was a nice gesture, I’ll, uh, explain later the difference between vegetarian and vegan later.”

“I mean, the thought would count a lot more if there were more things for me to actually eat.” Diana bends down to whisper in your ear, her tone a half teasing grumble.

“I swear to god, your mother even put butter on the fucking vegetables.”

“Duh, how else would you make them good? I know you’re limited, but I made the candied yams, mashed potatoes and sugar cookies for you; but I uh, didn’t tell anyone I changed the recipes to be vegan.” You pop the cheese covered cracker into your mouth and she raises her eyebrows.

“When did you do that?” Diana asks, sipping her wine.

“While you were being forced to play basketball with all the men today.” You say, rolling your eyes; of course your family members had gone home and googled Diana, returning for new years celebration with a host of new questions and of course bringing basketballs. She’d spent the better part of today trying to fix your little cousin's jump shot.

“God that was exhausting, I’d rather run laps” She mutters and finishes her wine, sitting it the empty glass back on the kitchen counter.

“So now we’ve done the polite snacking with your close family; we have to have an actual New Year’s party with who?”

“Well uh with everyone else so all the relatives and friends; that’s when we’ll have the real food.” You glance up at the clock.“About an hour before everyone arrives, I should go get ready.” You motion down to your casual jeans and flannel. Then to her sweatpants and tee shirt.

“I guess you want me to change too?” Diana groans and straightens from her lean against the counter.

“If you could wear a nice button down and trousers maybe? I’m going to wear the black sweater dress I got the other day.” You say before shoving the last of your cheese cracker in your mouth. Diana grabs your empty plate and her wine glass and places them in the sink.

“Fine, fine. I think I have a white shirt I can wear.” She complains, and follows you up the stairs to your room.

“Quit acting like no ones ever done your makeup before.” You scold and grip Diana’s head in one of your hands, turning her back to face you.

“Yes I have, I’ve been having my makeup done since before you were even born babygirl, but no one was this fucking rough!” She complains and you roll your eyes, shifting in her lap a little, her hands come up to rest on your waist, stroking absent circles with her thumbs.

“I could have done my own makeup you know, I am capable of concealer and mascara.” She teases and you huff.

“I wanted to try winged eyeliner on you but every time I get the pen even near your eye you flinch like I’m holding a knife!” You grip the top of her head and use your finger to pull her eyebrow up.

“Yeah all the pros do it just like this.” Diana snorts and you smack the top of her head gently.

“Be still, I'm concentrating; and stop. talking.” You chide and start to draw a small wing with your eyeliner. She sighs but doesn’t move. Satisfied with the first eye you sit back and look at her.

“Fuck Dee, you look incredible.” You say reverently, and she grins, batting her lashes at her teasingly.

“I feel like the eyeliner is probably getting lost in my crows feet” She tries to turn and look in the desk mirror but you stop her.

“Oh hush, and close your eyes, I need to do the other one.” You repeat your actions, giving her nearly perfect small wings and tight lining her eyes, making their caramel hue pop. You kiss her nose, leaning forward and she wrinkles it.

“You look beautiful.” You whisper in her ear and kiss right below her ear. Diana shivers and squeezes your waist.

“Stop teasing baby, you know I don’t have enough time to fuck you before the party… and.. thank you.” She responds and shifts in her seat to get up, helping you crawl off her. Diana takes mascara out of a tiny makeup bag and crouches to look in the small desk mirror, pausing a moment when she sees her eyes.

“The eyeliner is nice, baby” She somewhat roughly drags the mascara wand through her lashes, miraculously getting none on her skin. You squish in next to her to apply your lipstick, a red lip stain that was supposedly everything proof. Diana pulls away and looks you up and down, red heels and a black sparkly dress, the picture of New Year’s Eve. She matched you in a black button down and black slacks, paired with some ‘classy’ Nikes. You blushed under her rapt gaze and she smiled before holding a hand out to you. Taking it, the two of you walk down the stairs to meet with the rest of your family for a late dinner.

You rested your head on Diana’s shoulder, the champagne causing a fuzzy feeling in your brain as you watched the countdown on the TV. Two minutes until midnight. You pick your head up and look at her.

“Come on the deck with me real quick, I want to talk to you about something.” You say in a hushed tone; Diana knits her eyebrows in puzzlement but stands up after you. She slides the deck door closed before speaking.

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” She asks and takes a step closer to you, her hands resting on your forearms as she looks down at you.

“Nothings wrong Dee, if.. if you remember a few days ago you said if you found the coin in your cake I had to move in with you?” You say and look up at her; her brown eyes search yours before speaking.

“I wasn’t really going to make you if you’re so against it.” Her words are soft, her vulnerability peaking through.

“No, no.”

“Damn you could be nicer about it.”

“No, I mean yes.”

“Are you moving in with me or not?” Diana finally clarifies.

“That’s what I’m trying to say; yes, I want to move in with you. I can figure out breaking my lease when we get back” Diana pulls you into her arms happily, peppering your hair and face in kisses. She opens to speak. but gets cut off by the loud cheering inside the house and the sound of distant fireworks.

“Happy new years, baby, I love you.” Diana says in a soft tone, bringing her lips to yours in a gentle kiss full of feeling. You pull her down closer, deepening the kiss to pour your passion into it. Finally you pull away breathlessly.

“I love you too.” You respond and rest your forehead against hers.

“Honey champagne!” Calls your mother from the doorway and you both turn to look at her.

“Oh” she says and you turn to look at Diana; smeared across her face is your ‘smudge proof’ lipstick and you’re sure you look worse.

“Thanks we will take some champagne.” Diana plucks the two glasses from her hands and passes one to you. She clinks her glass against yours, deciding to ignore your scandalized mother.

“To new beginnings in a new year baby”

[lundenloves]

OMG OMG OMG HEAR ME OUT PLEASE! What if Simon/Ghost comes back home from deployment and is really stressed, annoyed and angry from a mission. He’s left alone with his oldest daughter in the house and has this horrible fight with his oldest daughter and I mean like screaming because the oldest daughter can’t find her shirt and he refuses to help until finally she blurts “I hate you” to him out of the heat of the fight…CAN THIS SOMEHOW END WITH MAJOR FLUFF BETWEEN THE TWO?! If it’s too much just ignore me❤️❤️ Thank you, I love your work🤭🤭

{✧} hello beautiful anon, you have seemingly given me life? banged this out in around an hour. if it seems like it only took an hour, please ignore that or i’ll drown myself in a loch. hope i’ve done your ask justice? thank you for asking for angst, that’s probably why it got done so fast 💀

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↳ no warnings | 1.2k | dad!simon

It was quiet in the house. Just quiet enough for Simon to process what had just happened in the last 48 hours — yet not quiet enough for his ears to ring from constant gunfire. It was a happy medium, alone bar his oldest who jogged up and downstairs at record paces. Flipping the living room upside down, and the pile of clean washing on the bottom stair was tossed to the floor in a desperate attempt to find her shirt. 

He was sitting on the sofa, head leant back, eyes shut only to hear her scuffling around. “Where’s my shirt?” She penetrated his happy silence, stood in front of him with arms dropped to her sides in a teenage palava. “Where did you put it?” 

Simon gave her a noise between a sigh and a hum, craning his neck to look up at her. “What?” He unintentionally spat, his normal tone of voice as sharp as ever. “I ‘aven’t touched your shirt.” Eyes locked to the pile of recently ironed clothes tossed to the floor by the stairs. “They’ll be in that fucking pile you’ve chucked around and walked past ten times.” 

“Well, they’re obviously not.” She groaned. 

Simon shrugged, standing up to stack this morning’s breakfast dishes. “What do you want me to do?” He shook his head at her, taking the plates to the kitchen with her trailing behind him. “I can’t magic it, can I? It’ll be wherever you’ve left it.” 

“It’s not. That’s the point. You’ve moved it.” She had genetically taken his frown, sporting it straight back to him when he had turned around to take something from the table. 

“Oh, have I?” He mumbled nonchalantly, loading the dishes into the sink with loud clatters. “Get those mugs from your room.” 

“No, I'm looking for the shirt.” Her tone matched his, stubbornly kicking her foot against the chair leg to get his attention. “Can you check mum's stuff?” 

“You can.” He turned around, a dish towel balled between his hands with a nod toward the stairs. 

Simon's moods were hard to distinguish. The primary reason being: he always seemed to be in some sort of disparity. So even when he’d come back from a particularly challenging mission, one that had asked too much from him or went horrifically wrong, he would almost always be the same as he usually was. Blunt, sarcastic and seemingly uncaring. 

You had learned to tell the difference but your daughters knew none the wiser. Leading to unknowingly provoking yet valid questions like, “What is wrong with you.” 

“Nothing. Get the mugs.” 

“You never help with shit.” She scoffed, turning on her heel to stomp upstairs and Simon’s jaw ticked. Head tilted to the side, palms leaning either side of the sink with a step back to hang his head between his shoulders. 

Having a teenage girl was the route of many headaches for Simon. Not particularly because of her, but for the natural way where everything revolves around them for an extended amount of years. Everything is embarrassing, if not first regarded as useless. And as far as Simon was concerned he fell somewhere between the two in her radar. 

“Don’t start with that.” He’d said once she had slammed the mugs down on the table behind him, his back was still toward her. 

“Well it’s fucking—“

“I mean it.” 

“It’s true you’re never here!” She shrilled. “You never do anything, you’re always angry and never help.” A beat. “You don’t even talk to us, dad.” She paused, undoubtedly eyeing him for any sort of reaction. “It’s fucked, you’re fucked.”

He turned to take the mugs, eyes avoiding hers although his jaw was tense. “And you can’t even have a conversation.” She laughed though it held no comedy. “You’ll just snap like you always do.” 

“I snap because it’s hard to switch between work and home— here.” He turned around, his daughter shying from his broad frame and low voice. Refraining from asking about Simon’s work was the one thing you had instructed all three of your kids not to do. Although, naturally it became a target point for arguments with him. A real low blow, the best and most critical hit you could land on him was his absence from home due to work. 

Bonus points if you added all he had missed, the first steps, the first words. It was a lot. But it was not there to be thrown back in his face, not as often as it was anyway. “You don’t even want to be here.” 

He shifted in his position, placing hands behind his head at her confrontation. “All of this because of that shirt.” His words directly combated hers, hitting them backward and stopping them from landing anywhere near him. Effectively avoiding her statement. 

“When’s the last time you hugged me, dad?” She said calmly yet loudly, metaphorically shattering glass over his head. 

It had been weeks, months at worst. 

His silence was telling, hands dropped down to his sides in defeat. As usual, he couldn’t find the words so she had jumped for her turn and jab one more time.

“I hate you. I hate you for that, so bad.” It came as a whisper and by that point, the kitchen had fallen quiet too. Occasional sniffs and the rubbing of the odd tear turned her face red, Simon cleared his throat. 

It only highlighted her point in that he stood still. Though, it wasn’t fair to point a finger and say it was his own fault he was that way, emotional warmth and touch just weren’t in his niche range of abilities. His thumb drew imperfect circles on the kitchen counter, staring at her with any and all outward apology he could muster. 

“I didn’t mean that.” She mumbled first, embarrassingly shifting her weight to the other foot while looking up to the ceiling, eyes darting left to right as if to hold back any more upset. She was a lot like Simon that way, although not at all. 

“I know.” He replied softly, taking a closing step toward her and placing his hand on the back of her head to pull her to his chest. “I don’t mean to be like this, you know that.” The silence made him look down to gain a nod in response, her gaze zoning out to the kitchen window as he smoothed out her hair. 

Simon was never good with words, so he always took to actions that felt even more foreign but they at least allowed for the substitution of his appeasements. “Sorry for swearing at you.” She mumbled, melting into his broad chest. 

“Someone has to put me in my place.” The vibration of the words rippled in his chest and she pulled back only to look down at the floor. “You’re a lot like me, you know.” He poked at her ribs, provoking an unwilling laugh that then turned into a smile. “A lot.” 

She shrugged, pushing his hands away after they had wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yeah, alright.” Her frown was feigned.

“I promise you.” He turned to continue the dishes, looking back to her over his shoulder. “And your shirt is on the line.” He nodded out the window, watching as she gasped and ran outside like he had found gold. 

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pays me on the head every now and then.

this is unedited.

[b4adb4tcher]

TCW era Bad Batch Dynamics: Fighting

Hunter and Crosshair fight. They’re both avoidant as fuck and are only able to fight it out in the typical sibling way to get out their aggression however they don’t talk afterwards and act like everything is fine so the cycle of resentment FIGHT remission continues.

Wrecker and Crosshair fight in the same way that a rattlesnake that was discovered by a particularly playful large dog fight. The snake means it and is loud and defensive but only occasionally strikes while the dog is having the fucking time of its life and isn’t actually aware that something is wrong. Dog gets tired and leaves or the snake escapes but at the end of the night the snake is snuggled up to the dog for warmth triassic cuddle style.

Tech and Crosshair FIGHT. They’re twins, evenly matched, and have no chain of command dynamics so it is on sight or on slight. They have to be pulled apart like street cats and will sulk for HOURS afterwards. Unlike Hunter and Crosshair, they refuse to act like everything is okay until 1) they are forced into close proximity together (wrecker has locked them in a closet before) OR 2) an injury or close call in battle scares them into making up again.

Echo and Crosshair do not fight. They’re both equally bitchy and are extremely comfortable just using their words to hurt each other, however having similar temperaments it doesn’t get there that often. They have an unspoken understanding that the rest of their squad does not understand.

Echo and Wrecker do not fight. Wrecker would not dream of fighting his beloved grumpy older brother. When Echo scolds him Wrecker might whine and complain about it but he listens. Wrecker respects him too much.

Echo and Hunter fight with their words. As a recruit to their squad, Hunter doesn’t feel comfortable initiating violence in anger with Echo like he does with Crosshair and Echo would never fight a superior. Echo will, however, bitch and let Hunter know exactly why and how little he approves of his shitty decisions. Hunter is more than capable of dishing it back.

Echo and Tech fight. They are both extremely bitchy and like things done their way and are happy to escalate to violence. They work together more often than not so their squabbles are extremely common. They’re also the only ones allowed to fight on the ship because they’ll fix it anyways.

Wrecker and Hunter do not fight. They playfully barb each other which will occasionally end in a gentle punch or light shove, but Hunter has too much patience and Wrecker loves his big brother too much. They never even have long standing disputes.

Wrecker and Tech fight. Tech knows exactly the right things to say to get under Wrecker’s skin and Wrecker has absolutely no patience for Tech’s antics. Tech is also fearless and will purposefully rile Wrecker up in a way no one else is able to. They always are pulled apart by Hunter and Crosshair although Wrecker would never seriously hurt Tech because he knows his strength. They’re also the only pair that talks it out afterwards because Wrecker feels so guilty that he makes an effort to talk it out.

Tech and Hunter do not fight. Tech is chaotic and a bitch, however he admires his big brother too much to really fight with him and Hunter has ridiculous amounts of patience with Tech’s antics. Even when Hunter is a little snappy, Tech understands it’s the stress from the mission while Hunter knows Tech can’t help his quirks and accepts him.

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter two: covid & carbonara

summary: in a time of isolation, you and carmy find unexpected connection in unexpected places: each other. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19/the pandemic, eventual smut.

word count: 4k

listen to: hot sugar - glass animals | hard to live in the city - albert hammond jr. | alone together - del water gap | foreign girls - bleachers

read: chapter one

March 2020: 

“Carmy, can you hear me now?” you ask, listening carefully for his response. 

“Yeah hold on. Wifi’s shit in this room,” he mumbles. You hear a rustle of sounds and the picture on your phone goes blurry for a second. This is just something you’ve come to accept is a part of your life now as you wait. 

Suddenly, the picture is clear again and it looks like Carmy’s in his living room now. He wears a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as he tries to get comfy on the shitty sofa in his Flatiron apartment. 

“Ok there we go. I gotta-, yeah, I can hear you now,” he says, finally settling in. 

“How are you?” you ask as you grow more sure that you’re going to be able to talk now. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Yeah, no uh. It’s good to see you too,” he replies. “Shit’s so weird right now, huh?”

“Totally,” you agree. “So… what’ve you been up to? I mean… how are you spending your time?”

He sighs, shaking his head, as if to say that he barely knows how to answer that question. He thinks it over before answering with:

“I don’t know. Workin’ on some recipes. Tryin’ not to lose my fuckin’ head. You?”

“Same,” you commiserate. “Though… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been enjoying some of the down time, you know?”

He couldn’t agree less. 

Carmy tells you about the recipes he’s working on. You share with him the plot of the show you’re binge watching right now. He tells you he hasn’t really been in touch with family much and you let him know that you’ve been running errands for your parents where you can. It’s a fairly normal conversation for a very uncertain and strange time, but it brings you comfort – talking to Carmy. 

You talk about the state of the restaurant industry. The state of the world. The two of you wonder when the restaurant might open back up – if they’ll consider doing to-go’s. He’s not sure and neither are you.

It’s almost two hours later when you realize your phone is dying, and that somehow, time has flown as the two of you have been talking. 

“Shit, uh. My phone’s dying. I may have to go,” you say remorsefully. 

“Oh yeah! No problem,” Carmy replies, almost apologetically. “And I uh, if I get in touch with the people at World Central Kitchen, I’ll let you know. I’m sure they can always use more chefs and volunteers.”

“No, that’d be great. Uh… before I go,” you start, knowing that you want to tell him this. “I just wanted to say… I’m glad we did this.”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees, and you can tell he means it. 

“Maybe… we do it again? Keep each other company… you know. Virtually?” you propose, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Carmy half smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And as the pandemic drags on, you find yourself FaceTiming with Carmy more and more. Once a week turns into once a week and a consistent exchange of texts. He shares with you the recipes he’s working on. You bounce ideas around with him on dishes he feels stuck on. You send him silly memes and TikToks, even though he refuses to get an account himself. Once a week turns into twice a week, and then phone calls, and soon enough, you don’t go a day without talking to Carmy in some capacity. 

You’re not sure how you’ve done it but you think that maybe you and Carmy just might be friends. 

May 2020: 

“Thanks so much for all the help guys. It means a lot. Especially having two chefs of your caliber,” the volunteer coordinator says, addressing both you and Carmy. 

“Listen, we’re just happy to be a part of something right now. With so much going on… it’s hard to know where to begin helping,” you reply with gratitude. You’re genuinely thankful that you’ve been able to be a part of World Central Kitchen’s COVID relief efforts, and you know Carmy feels the same. 

“We’ll see you guys next Friday?” the volunteer coordinator asks. 

“Heard,” Carmy answers, thanking the coordinator one more time before the two of you leave the building. 

Around the corner, there’s a bench that the two of you find. It’s an easy choice to sit down – neither of you are quite ready to go home yet. You sit on opposite sides before removing your masks as Carmy pulls out a pack of marlboros. 

“You want one?” he asks you, holding out the pack.

“Yeah,” you agree, taking one from him at a distance. You watch him light up, before handing you the lighter he keeps in his jean jacket pocket.

It’s nice to take a moment to pause. Between the chaos of being in a kitchen again to the chaos of the world around you, it feels good to smoke a fucking cigarette on a street corner with the man that’s so unexpectedly become your friend. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the sounds of the city, each others’ company, and your fuckin’ cancer sticks. 

You break the silence between the two of you, letting out the smallest chuckle.

“What?” Carmy asks you, your laugh garnering his attention. 

“It’s just… it’s almost funny,” you say, continuing your giggle. 

“What?” he asks you again, a look of amusement on his face. He can’t imagine what must be so funny. 

“Just… seeing you here… Mr. Fine Dining…makin’ sandwiches,” you tease playfully. “Thought you were too fancy-pants for that.”

“Fuck off,” he rolls his eyes playfully, sucking on his cigarette as he inhales. You laugh again as he shakes his head, shooting you another look. 

He takes his time, exhaling the smoke out in the opposite direction, before addressing your playful remarks. 

“Nah. It uh-, actually reminds me of my family’s place a little. Back home,” he shares with you. 

It catches you off guard. Carmy rarely ever talks about home, let alone his family. 

“Yeah?” you ask curiously, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod, before placing the cigarette back in between his lips. 

To your disappointment, you realize that’s all he’s planning to share. You resign yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette as the two of you smoke to the sounds of the city. After a long shift at the volunteer kitchen, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you. It’s been a few months since you’ve had to stand for that long, and as exhilarating as it’s been, you can feel the fatigue in your back and your feet already. 

“So… I was thinkin’ about something,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

You angle your body towards him before asking, “What’s that?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.” 

He’s suddenly shy, and your eyes flicker over his cheeks that have turned a darker shade of red than they were before. 

“Carmy, what is it?” you ask, leaning towards him, now intrigued.

He avoids your gaze before he replies, “Nah. Nevermind. It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not! What is it?” you continue to press him.

You’re not going to let this go. 

“I shouldn't've said anything.” 

He sighs, taking one more drag of his cigarette before leaning forward and tossing it on the ground. His left foot hovers over the cigarette butt as he stamps it out, his forearms resting on his legs as he finally turns to you again. 

“I don’t know how you feel about it, and you can totally say no because like… shit’s still fucked, you know but-,” he starts, shyly. Was Carmy about to ask you out?

 He pauses, his eyes scanning the pavement beneath his feet before saying, “It’s just-, I’m not like, seeing anyone else in person. Except you.”

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree. 

Where was this going?

“Would you maybe wanna-?” he asks, before trailing off, his piercing blue eyes so intense it feels like he’s looking right through you. He nods towards the kitchen before continuing with, “... see each other in person. Like outside of here. As long as we’re being safe you know?” 

You nod, quick to put the poor man at ease, and only a little intrigued as to why it was so difficult for him to ask you that. 

“Yeah no. I’m not seeing anyone else in person either. And at this point if we had COVID, we’d probably already have exposed each other, right?” you reply. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

“Yeah, I’d be down. To… you know. Maybe move some of our FaceTimes… in person, if that’s what you mean,” you agree, a smile on your face. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but you weren’t expecting for Carmy to ask you to become his quarantine buddy – even if you’d already kind of been doing it anyways. 

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath. 

You can tell that it was a big deal for him – to ask you that – even if he doesn’t want to show it. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. 

You smile in return, “Yeah. And if you’re feeling wild… we can… pick something up on the way there. You can come up and hang.”

“No, yeah. That uh-, that sounds great,” he replies, something softer in his eyes this time. “If you don’t mind. I mean-, if you want the company-.”

“Oh shut up, Berzatto,” you roll your eyes at him. You shoot him a look, even though you’re kind of loving this softer side of him. 

“I wouldn’t have offered, if I didn’t.”

July 2020: 

Carmen Berzatto becomes an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising part of your support system, and your COVID-pod. It’s hard to believe that less than a year ago, you thought the man absolutely hated you. He’s still the hot and cold, emotionally turbulent man you met last October, and he’s also become your friend. You’ve learned that he can be soft, that he’s terribly uncomfortable in any and all social situations, and that he’s the most single-minded, driven, obsessed motherfucker you’ve ever met. 

By now, the restaurant has pivoted and reopened for to-gos only. It’s nothing like the fine dining establishment it was before. You’re only open Thursday to Sunday and it’s a much more family style, to-go kit sort of operation these days: to-go cocktail kits, to-go curated menus, to-go assemble your own dishes at home. 

It’s strange. And it’s a strange time for all of you. 

You’re finished with your shift today, ready to head home and spend the next three days off. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get three days off in a row once all of this is over, so you’ve decided that you’re just going to embrace the slower lifestyle right now. You’ve been more creative in this chapter of your life than you can remember. 

“So you layin’ it down for Carmy or what?” a voice asks, jolting you from your thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” you snap, turning your head to a very smug looking Nate Walker, stripping off his face mask.

“What the fuck, man?” Tim exclaims, as he’s changing back into his street shoes. “Not okay to say.”

“What?” Nate defends himself. “I’m just wondering who I have to thank. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the boss man.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Really nice, Nate.” 

You shake your head, before slinging your backpack over your right arm, exchanging a look with Tim. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Carmy and I are just friends,” you correct. “Ever think that some time off has been good for all of us and that’s why Carmy’s been chill?”

“‘S not like we’re working at the same capacity we used to be. I think it’s been good for him,” Tim chimes in, trying to offer you a little backup.

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced. 

“What’s it to you anyways, Walker?” Tim asks, putting the spotlight on his coworker. 

“Nothin’,” Nate replies, defensively. “Just noticed you guys spendin’ a lot of time together lately. Besides, the guy could use a good lay.”

“You’re a child,” you snap with an eye roll. You slide your left arm into the other strap of your backpack, ready to leave. “Now if we’re done with the girl talk, I’m going home.”

As you begin to walk away, you can hear Nate defending himself as Tim points out how inappropriate it was for him to say that to you. You’re grateful for people like Tim, because you’re not sure that Nate would listen to anyone else lower in the French brigade system – let alone a woman. 

“We still on for tomorrow?” Carmy asks you, as you're on your way out. He’s still in his chef whites because, as the both of you know, he’s going to be the last person to leave. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you see him. 

That’s right. You’re spending your day off tomorrow with him. 

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod. 

“Mine or yours?” he asks. 

You shoot him a look – a ‘I know you haven’t cleaned up your place’ kind of look. 

“Mine,” you reply. 

“Sweet. There’s a cool market nearby I wanted to check out. I’ll pick somethin’ up on the way,” he says back. 

“Heard.”

You wait a beat before adding, “Try not to work too hard, chef.”

He likes that you’re looking out for him. 

He smiles, “Heard.”

*

As much as you’ve tried not to let Nate Walker get to you, you can’t stop thinking about what he said the day before. Did people think you and Carmy were sleeping together? Did the whole staff think you were trying to sleep your way to the top? Your mind races, and you notice the anxious feelings you have have settled deep in your chest. Carmy moves around your kitchen, intentionally, and while you’d like to enjoy how happy he looks when he cooks for fun, you can’t seem to shut off your brain. 

“You sure I can’t help? I went to culinary school too, yknow?” you ask, trying to put on your best lighthearted tone. 

“Nah,” he dismisses, pulling together a sauce in one of the glass bowls you keep in your kitchen for prep. 

As Carmy steals a glance your way, he’s surprised to find that whatever weight it seems you were carrying when he first walked in, hasn’t gone away. He returns his focus to the stovetop, shaking the stainless clad frying pan that holds his precisely-cut lardons. 

“What’s up?” he asks you, keeping his back to you. 

“Uh… nothing,” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 

He knows you’re lying, and he turns to look at you again, more intently this time. Your lips are pressed together in a thin line and there’s a new tension knitted between your brows that’s not normally there. As much as you’re trying not to let it get to you, your face betrays you and he knows that something’s been bothering you all day. He shoots you an unconvinced look and you sigh in defeat. 

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant. 

“Just-, you’re gonna think it’s dumb,” you start, almost embarrassed that you have to bring this up to him. 

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently. 

You shrug, “Just something that Nate said yesterday’s been… bothering me, I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dry laugh as he asks you, “Well Nate’s a dick. What’d he say?”

“I-, I don’t know if I should tell you,” you admit hesitantly. 

“Why?” he asks, a pang of nerves hitting him right in the gut. 

You wait a beat, trying to figure out how best to convey what Nate said without freaking Carmy out. 

“He uh… he kind of… suggested that everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?” you say cautiously, your voice going up at the end of the sentence, almost as if it were a question. 

“Oh,” is all Carmy manages to get out. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“Well, we’re not,” Carmy replies, simply. 

Right. 

“Right,” you agree. 

You’re surprised by the feeling of disappointment that wells in your chest in response to Carmy’s reply. This had been eating away at you and for him to shut it down so quickly – like it was that simple – doesn’t quite make sense to you. 

Maybe it’s because men never bear the burden of an inappropriate workplace relationship, not that you’re having one with Carmy, but you know it’d be a bigger cost to you than it’d ever be for him.

“I just…” you start, beginning to understand why it’s bothering you so much. “Do you think… like is it a problem that we’re hanging out? I mean, you are kind of my boss and… I don’t know. I guess we never really talked about the ethical implications of… you know. Us. Being friends. And also working together.”

Friends. 

Right. 

Maybe because it’s because he’s never really had friends, let alone a girlfriend, that catches Carmy off guard.

You’re just friends, motherfucker, Carmy thinks to himself. 

It’s like he’d almost forgotten. 

Perhaps it’s the isolation – the way of the world right now – but he’s never thought about what you were to him. Ever since the two of you had decided to start spending time together, it had been you and him against a very scary and uncertain world. Carmy’s surprised to find that, hearing it said aloud, friends, leaves him with a feeling of dissatisfaction – like the word friend didn’t quite describe the way he felt about you. 

But he’s terrified to think about what that could mean. That anything else would probably scare you away – push you out of his life – and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let that happen right now. 

Because he likes this too much. 

Because he likes who he is when he’s with you. 

Because you’re all he has. 

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind for another time, because right now, you’re sitting right in front of him, and he’s got a problem to solve for you. 

“As long as we’re professional in the kitchen… I don’t see why it should be a problem,” he says. 

You’re not sure how it seems so simple for him, because it doesn’t feel this simple for you. 

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie. 

Carmy returns to what he’s doing, and you accept that that’s probably the full conversation that you’re going to have with him. At least right now. You watch as he continues to cook, pulling together the sauce as he tosses the pasta and cheese in your frying pan. You open up your phone, scrolling through a few social media posts to try your best to get your mind off of your worries as Carmy finishes up in your kitchen. 

It’s not long before he’s returned to your small dining table. You set your phone down, watching as he approaches you. 

“I remember you mentioning that it’s hard to find a good carbonara so uh… thought I’d make you one,” he says confidently. Carmy hands you bowl containing a perfectly twirled nest of spaghetti, along with a fork he’d gotten from your kitchen. 

“How do I know it’s gonna be up to my standards?” you challenge him playfully. 

He shoots you a ‘don’t play with me’ kind of look and you giggle in response. You exchange glances with Carmy before messing up the perfectly plated nest by digging your fork into it. 

“Make sure you get a little bit of everything,” he reminds you. He watches as you twirl the spaghetti around your fork, making sure to scoop up a bit of crispy guanciale. You lift the fork to your mouth before taking a bite, your eyes closing as the salty, cheesy, bite hits your tongue. 

It’s perfect.  

“Holy fuck,” you practically moan in response to your first bite. You open your eyes and he smiles back at you, proud of the response he’s earned from you. Your face twists into a look that falls somewhere between ‘this is so good I’m angry and hello, I’ve reached nirvana.’ 

“This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude,” you say, as you continuing processing the most perfect carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. 

“No offense taken,” he says. 

You shake your head at him, “Best carbonara ever.”

September 2020: 

“So we go upstate, and we’re searching for outdoor activities we can do, you know, safely, at a distance, with masks on. And we end up at this goat farm,” Maya says, describing her and her fiance’s last few months spent in upstate New York. 

“...Was the goat named Milo?” Carmy asks, a humorous tone to his question. 

“Carmy!” you exclaim with a laugh, shooting him a look. 

“What?” he asks back. 

Both Liz, Maya, and her fiance Patrick send you questioning looks. 

“I-, it’s an inside joke,” you explain, shaking your head once again in response to Carmy’s very silly interjection. 

“Anyways, it’s so nice to be back in the city. Seriously, Liz, thanks for organizing this,” Maya continues. 

“Oh, I’m kind of getting really into this whole cute picnic thing actually,” she replies, in reference to the picnic she’s organized for the five of you. “Plus, the to-go picnic kit has been killing at the restaurant. Thanks for letting me run with that, chef.”

“No, yeah. You’re killin’ it. It was a great idea,” Carmy compliments. 

The five of you spend time in the park, catching up and enjoying time spent in person for the first time in a long time. You, Liz, and Carmy have been back at work, pushing through, what will hopefully be, the last month or so in the to-go only business at the restaurant. As the sun begins to come down, you all agree that it’s time to pack it up and go home. You’ve begun to collect all of the trash in a brown paper bag as Carmy offers to take it. 

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

As he takes a walk, in search of the nearest trash can, your friends are immediately on you about whatever the hell it is that you and Carmy are doing. 

“So what I’m hearing is… you talk every day, you have inside jokes together, and you’re basically quarantining together. How are you trying to tell us that this man is not your boyfriend?!” Maya exclaims. Her partner shrugs in agreement. 

“I know that what Nate said was hella inappropriate, but he’s not wrong… that this is the most I’ve seen him relaxed in… maybe since we met him,” Liz adds in as your friends make their case. 

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers. 

“I-,” you start, knowing you don’t have much time before Carmy returns. “I don’t know. All I know is… I like what we have. And right now, we’re friends so.”

“God, you’re so good at it,” Maya sighs. 

“What?” you ask, looking from her to Liz as they exchange glances. 

The both turn to you, before saying in unison, “Compartmentalizing!” 

Patrick holds his hands up as he says, “I’m gonna stay out of this one.”

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks, rejoining you and your friends. 

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy. 

You say your goodbyes before going your separate ways, and Maya swears when Carmy isn’t listening that you’re not done talking about this. It’s just been you and Carmy for so long that you hadn’t thought about what it might look like to other people. Now that things were slowly reopening… you were beginning to get more questions, and maybe, you were beginning to have more questions too. 

But the last time you’d tried to bring up any conversation about your relationship with Carmy, he’d shut it down and distracted you with the best carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. Not that you were complaining, definitely not, but you were hesitant to bring it up any time soon.  As Carmy looks at you, there’s something about the way you look against the backdrop of the city, the setting sun, and the sparkling lights, that catches him off guard. He’s not ready to part ways with you yet.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy offers, hopefully. 

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

[dioslesbianwife]

Here are my headcannons for Jojo villain house and how I think they’d each approach chores

Dio

Refuses to do chores outright. He sees himself as above such menial labor and will either try to manipulate someone else into doing them or make excuses.

If he has to clean, expect a dramatic show of irritation. He’ll use The World to do everything inhumanly fast, pausing time and leaving the room spotless but making sure everyone knows how beneath him the task was.

Biggest offender: Leaving blood filled wine glasses around the house when he forgets about them.

Kars

Insists on having things done “the right way” and will redo someone’s work if it’s not up to his impossibly high standards.

Enjoys organizing. He might spend hours rearranging bookshelves, ensuring they’re sorted by theme, era, and importance to human evolution.

He delegates tasks to others but criticizes their technique endlessly.

Biggest offender: Lecturing everyone about how primitive humans are and how they’ve “desecrated” the art of maintaining a clean space.

Yoshikage Kira

The only one who genuinely enjoys chores- as long as it’s quiet. He finds cleaning therapeutic and uses it as an excuse to stay away from the others.

His favorite chore is folding laundry, particularly because it lets him admire the way hands move as they grab onto fabric, bend, and fold.. He folds everything with military precision.

He despises dirty dishes and will passive aggressively complain about anyone leaving them in the sink.

Biggest offender: The ungodly amount of nail clippings he produces.

Diavolo

Doesn’t do chores, period. He considers them a waste of time and relies on Doppio to handle everything. If questioned, he’ll walk away.

He gets visibly annoyed when the house isn’t clean but refuses to do anything about it himself. If someone confronts him, he’ll use King Crimson to skip the argument entirely.

Biggest offender: Leaving half empty coffee cups everywhere.

Doppio

He takes on messes left by Diavoll without complaint. He tries to stay cheerful, but even he gets overwhelmed when Diavolo’s mess becomes too much. Occasionally, he’ll mutter to himself about how unhelpful the others are.

Enjoys vacuuming because of its repetitive and calming nature, aslo it drowns out the chaos of the house.

Biggest offender: Picking up random items to make his phone calls and leaving them out of place.

Enrico Pucci

Insists on assigning everyone their tasks at the start of the week, using philosophical arguments to convince them that chores and daily routines are part of some higher plan.

He’s efficient but doesn’t tolerate laziness, constantly nagging the less helpful men to pull their weight.

Pucci has a habit of singing hymns while sweeping or mopping the floor, which unnerves everyone.

Biggest offender: Rearranging everyone’s personal belongings to organize the house according to “the Lord’s” standards.

Funny Valentine

Treats chores as a matter of patriotic pride. He gives long winded speeches about how a clean home reflects the strength of the household.

He has a habit of delegating tasks and overseeing them rather than just doing them himself. He’ll help if absolutely necessary but only with "important" jobs like cooking or maintaining the garden.

Obsessively cleans anything that might tarnish his image, like the front porch or living room. He makes sure guests (if they ever get any) think the house is always immaculate.

Biggest offender: He sometimes makes a mess intentionally to test others' "dedication to the cause."

Chore Dynamics in the House

Dio and Kars constantly fighting over who’s more above doing chores.

Pucci trying to convince Dio into participating, only for Dio to scoff and vanish dramatically.

Kira scolding Diavolo for leaving things dirty while Doppio tries to mediate.

Best team: Doppio and Kira. They’re the only ones who actually get things done without complaining.

Worst team: Dio and Diavolo. They’ll spend hours arguing about something and never lift a finger.

Pucci and Kira end up supervising everything like a pair of exasperated parents, while Valentine alternates between helping and giving motivational speeches no one asked for.

[littencloud9]

sits. hi lena!!! tell me some kunichuu hcs :D

sits with you excitedly. KUNICHUU HCS!!

chuuya is a very spontaneous person and has date ideas flying around their head 24/7, but they know that kunikida prefers proper planning, so they have his schedule memorised so they can set up dates

aya met chuuya and Immediately assumed they were married

kunikida swapped out his ideal partner list for a list of reasons he loves chuuya. chuuya will never find out about it (they did. ranpo snitched)

chuuya braids kunikida’s hair <3

u know how it’s tradition to give the person you like the second button of your uniform? instead of that kunikida gave chuuya his red tie. chuuya keeps it on their wrist

they are Always going on rooftops illegally. it’s what happens when your partner manipulates gravity

chuuya is kinda bad at asking for physical affection so they’ll do it in the most roundabout way possible.

“kunikida your hand is SO cold what is wrong? thank god i wear gloves so my hands are warm.” “…thank god indeed.”

this is a kunichuu rite of passage but chuuya calls kunikida pretty boy

chuuya CANNOT take what they dish. kunikida calls them pretty back and they explode into a million pieces

kenji is delighted to have a second big brother to look up to. he’s always begging kunikida to bring chuuya over so they can talk

they are So annoying about their relationship. kunikida receives a gift from a ‘secret admirer’ all the time. chuuya wears their hickeys on Full Fucking Display

if kunikida is working too hard chuuya Will barge in and plant themself on his lap and proceed to be as annoying and disruptive as possible

chuuya also has a tendency to overwork. when they get home, kunikida is there to run them a bath and massage them until they relax

they’ve been caught making out too many times that atsushi, yosano etc makes an effort to be EXTREMELY loud before entering the office

also chuuya gets home when kunikida wakes up and will refuse to sleep until they got a kiss first

they enjoy stargazing together!

they also bring kenji/aya on field trips all the time

chuuya does not let kunikida pay. they are not above shoving kunikida to the floor if it means they get to pay

hand kisses from chuuya and forehead kisses from kunikida…

[sparklingcid3r]

are you a tim and darry shipper? if so, PLEASE share some hcs of them

YESSIR I AM‼️ oh my days i’ve been dying to yap about them bc i’ve been obsessed 🙏 i won’t go into how i think they actually found out about each other’s man-kissing tendencies bc im thinking of writing a fic abt it (if it doesn’t happen then i’ll write abt it here lol) but here we go‼️ ooc? perchance🤫

- Incredibly private relationship. Neither of them want a single soul to know

- So naturally they get walked in on by Pony

- “You said you locked the door” “It’s not the same kind of lock we got at my place” “It’s a lock” “That you never even use” “Do you know how to lock my door?” “Do you know how to lock your door?”

- (It’s not Tim’s fault tho because not even Pony remembers which way to turn it, he’s just jiggling it until it clicks. Seriously, why would anyone need to know?)

- Darry’s idea of being romanced is coming home from work to see Tim doing the dishes while playing Darry’s favorite Ricky Nelson records in the background.

- Just sweep him off his feet, Tim, why don’t you🙄

- Fr tho acts of service is Darry’s love language, catch him SWOONING when Tim says he’ll pick up Pony from school and then come back to help him dig leaves out of the gutter. Most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him

- Idk if Tim has a love language, but maybe it’d be quality time. Even if they aren’t saying anything, he just likes hanging out and unwinding with Darry at the end of the day

- If they haven’t been able to see each other for a while because of Darry’s long ass work days, Tim sometimes visits him during his lunch break at work, just to talk and catch up. He brings two bottles of ginger ale because he knows Darry can’t drink on the clock, but could stand to crack open a cold one

- They’ll go and watch the rodeos together when Dally is jockying and Soda’s doing saddle bronc

- One time he came home to find Tim, Pony, and Soda very heatedly yelling at the soap opera playing on the television. They made him swear to secrecy before letting him join in

- Lotsss of stab wounds in the coaster next to the couch. Darry only got it after one too many accidents with Tim not remembering that the Curtis family doesn’t just bury their blades into furniture when they’re particularly emotional

- Darry actually gets along well with Angela, they have pretty similar music taste. He’s also telling her which teachers she wants for which classes, and also the best spot to park to pull out of school quick before traffic builds up

- Darry wants to spend some time at Tim’s place, but Tim refuses nearly every time. His parents are always drunken, high crash outs when they’re home and the place is just a mess. He’s a purebred hood, but he’s also the only one trying to run a tight ship around there for his siblings’ sake

- Tim bounces around from job to job, he never really found a rhythm anywhere. Darry once sat down to help him hunt, but Tim’s better suited for odd jobs anyway, so that’s where his money rolls in from

- Definition of power couple. They’re mean asl in solo fights but put them on the same team and it’s lights out

- There’s an on-going bet on the East side about who would win in a fight between them

- Darry and Tim know about this and also get into arguments about it

- Love the idea of characters who are described as things such as “feline” or “deer-like” or “spider-like” etc etc also act like those animals, so the minute Tim was described as cat-like I knew that in my head he’s taking naps and when he gets up, he does the full body, hands in the air stretch until every bone has popped and he’s got just slightly longer canines than usual, “blink and you’ll miss it” slight. Darry thinks it’s hot

- They’ve mutually agreed to never accept gifts from each other because they’re too proud but also too insecure about money and don’t want to be leeching off the other

- Tim doesn’t sleep on the Curtis’ couch unless he’s in rough shape from a fight the night before or he wants to catch Darry in the morning, but more often than not it’s because of a fight. Pony and Soda only know about a fraction of the times Tim has done this and just think “damn darry ur bf’s gay asl for u”

Gang i love them sm it’s not even funny this is so serious for me😭🙏

[dark-frosted-heart]

The Beast's User Manual - Clavis (Part 1)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Case. 1: How to calm Clavis down when he thinks up a bad idea

Clavis: By the way, Emma. I have a great idea.

During our usual early morning breakfast, Clavis made an exciting announcement.

As I was about to bring some brightly colored food to my mouth when I paused in a panic because in Lelouchian, “great” actually meant “bad”.

Emma: By the way, Clavis, it’s a nice day isn’t it? A great day for a picnic, don’t you think?

Clavis: Haha, it’ll definitely be easier to spend time with the thick clouds and lack of sunlight. 

Emma: I know right! I’ll make lunch boxes and we can have it together.

Clavis: Good, good. Let’s eat somewhere in public.

Emma: Where?

Clavis: The office.

Emma: I refuse.

Clavis: But why not? What’s the point of having a lunch box made by your beloved if you can’t show it off? 

Emma: Because I’m making it only for you, so I don’t want anyone else to see it…

Emma: Rather, I want to say the reason I want to hide it is because it’s a strange lunch box made to Clavis’ taste…

Clavis: Haha, what’s there to be ashamed of? Your lunch boxes are the best in the world, I can vouch for it. After all, your cooking’s filled with nothing but love. I’m sure everyone will be envious of me. We must make a big deal about it, not only to Chevalier, but also to Nokto, Luke, the bureaucrats, nobles, and servants as well.

Emma: We really shouldn’t?!

Clavis: Anyway, Emma, back to the matter at hand—

(This isn’t good…I couldn’t force a change in topic!)

(In these kinds of situations, if I don’t make a immediately take action, the conversation will continue the way it is)

I set down my cutlery and kissed Clavis on the cheek as he continued his delightful chatter.

It was an act of desperation that suppressed my embarrassment.

Alluring golden eyes widened and I broke into a smile.

Clavis is weak to these kinds of surprise attacks.

Emma: We’re not done talking about the picnic yet.

Clavis: You’re right, please excuse me.

Clavis’ lips relaxed and he hugged my waist before kissing me on the cheek.

His repeated pecks were ticklish.

Emma:  W-what are you in the mood for today, Clavis?

Clavis: That’s a tough question, Emma…

Emma: Eh…

Clavis: There’s no way I could compare the things you cook.

Emma: Meaning, anything’s fine.

Clavis: Anything’s fine. Your home cooking has its own category. The fact that it’s a lunch box made by a loved one makes it priceless. 

(It’s typical of Clavis to be able to say such a thing so easily)

Clavis: Hmm…

Emma: What’s wrong?

Clavis: It’s nothing. I just thought that my lovely fiancee’s smile was really bright today.  

(This mood…)

I closed my eyes as his golden ones approached, and he placed a light kiss on my lips.

He lovingly caressed my cheeks and the mood contrasted with the colorful dishes spread out on the table.

I kissed back and opened my eyes, dizzy from Clavis’ charm.

(We’ve kissed so many times by now, but my heart still makes a fuss)

(But I’m getting off topic—)

Clavis: So, Emma. After the picnic, let’s do something nice.

(Ah…this is bad)

There’s two patterns to Clavis’ schemes, misdirection or never giving up on something.

Looks like today’s the latter. In that case, I have no choice but to concede.

(But I’m not as scared as I used to be. I don’t know what he’s scheming—)

Clavis: Several jewelry dealers are scheduled to have dinner with us today. We’re having a small party, but what do you think will happen when we show off our love?

Emma: I think you can get the message across without having to show off.

Clavis: Yes, they’ll definitely pay us tribute. At any rate, the purpose of the company’s for me to arrange export destinations. I wonder how much jewelry will be collected to gain my favor. I’ll arrange a deal with the one whose jewelry best suits your taste as an honor to the winner. Well, Emma, we’re going to have a busy day. I’ll need to work on a lovey-dovey plan.

Emma: Clavis, you just want to do the lovey-dovey plan don’t you?!

Clavis: Hahaha!

(Sounds like today’s “good thing” will be a lot of work…Oh well)

(Clavis just wanted to amuse me)

[jxsterr]

ghhghgb pre calamity zelink but zelda grows a quiet rebellious streak after her father forbids her from engaging with sheikah technology and link volunteers as her ‘grew up as a regular village boy so of course he’s a terrible influence’ sidekick so they sneak around and do all sorts of things kids their age do because they yearn to feel at least a little bit normal despite all the pressure on their shoulders. also because i’m still hung up on why the hell his royal cap was in her room

i’m a slowburn truther but hear me out

i’m talking about link soothing an upset and understandably frustrated zelda as she rants about how unfair being forbidden to engage in something she enjoys by suggesting they simply just sneak out and enjoy it anyway. by telling her that he knows the patrolling routines well enough from being around the other guards so often that he can evade them. that he’d take the brunt of it if they were ever caught and watches how stars burst in her eyes at the prospect. he tells her that if rhoam is willing to void her of any sort of hobbies, any kind of relief from the stresses of her duty that they will simply make it themselves

so they learn to sneak around. he takes her out late at night to marvel and prod at the inactive guardians, jotting down notes and making sketches of the mechanisms as he keeps watch for her. she sneaks into the guards quarters to see him whenever she’s been too caught up in prayers and duties for him to be around. he sneaks into her bedroom to sprawl out on her bed while she dishes the castle gossip idly or drags him into her study and miserably details her struggles at growing a silent princess herself. they essentially become each other’s source of respite

but you know what i eat up the most?? them having the thought that. damn. they’ll never get to experience what a lot of kids their age get to because of their positions and responsibilities. they’ll never get to experience proper physical affection from another person, or steal wine from the kitchens and deal with the consequences of being a little too overzealous with it, or even experience what it’s like to be kissed. they’re just two kids desperate to feel normal just for a little while

so they’re like fuck it. the world could genuinely end tomorrow so why not start ticking off the list. they’re two people stuck in a shitty situation against their own volition who’ve grown close because of it and trust each other with their lives. why not help each other live a little

so they do it. they let tentative fingers tangle themselves whenever they dare stand near, cuddle on zelda’s bed after a long day until they fall asleep by accident and have to figure out a gameplan to get him the hell out without being suspicious about it, steal a bottle of wine to take turns drinking from on the battlement between her room and her study and cough at how damn strong it is because they didn’t realise you had to sip it, and exchange lingering kisses behind the safety of her bedroom door because why not. they lose even when they’re playing good, so why not take a little bit of control of their lives and do something for them when the calamity could appear at literally any point. they may as well live every day like their last when there’s so much to lose and nothing to gain.

it doesn’t even matter if they catch feelings from any of it anyway because they can figure it out if they even get past ganon. nothing is for certain when her cursed powers refuse to answer her so what the hell does it matter. so what if it starts with kisses that only occur occasionally when they’ve stolen wine again and their hearts can’t seem to stay off their sleeves for long enough to realise just how close zelda is sat next to him. so what if they use it once while completely sober to reassure the other in a last ditch attempt to calm them down and it just kinda sticks. so what if it becomes a game of how many they can sneak in small fleeting moments where every second counts and they only just about avoid getting caught. it’s a little bit of fun and goddess knows they need something good for once

they’ll figure out what all of this means after everything—and that’s if there’s still anything to come back to

[kennysboxergf]

Babysitting

Ranking the Beta Squad + Sidemen based on how much I would need to be paid to babysit them as children

Kenny - ��2.50/hour

THE NICEST

Just look at him he can do no harm

A very energetic child tho, running around and not going to sleep

But I think I could distract him easily by just putting on blues clues

Love love he’s adorable

Chunkz (+ bonus Darkest) - €9.50/hour

Look very nice a respectful 

Will be nice

But only when parents are around

As soon as they leave I’m getting flamed like a highschooler

And getting pranked every 20 minutes 

But they look like they’ll listen if I say something 

And they’re gonna be funny so it’s all good 

AJ Shabeel - €11.50/hour

look at him

He’s going to jump on me as soon as he gets the chance

A biter and a kicker

But he looks like he’s be sweet if he calmed down

He’s the kid the parents tell you not to give sugar to

Couch jumper

Sharky - free/hour

this baby is the best baby I’ve ever seen

V Well behaved

Stomps his foot ok the floor when he’s mad but that’s it

I would look after him for free

He doesn’t even look like a messy eater

Respectful I love him

Niko - €19/hour

you would have to payyy go get me go babysit this child

He seems so hyperactive

Would not could not sit still

Asks me for candy before dinner and ice-cream before bed

If I say no I get like a bucket of water poured on me when I walk into a room

Prank MASTER

Absolutely adorable but no thank you

Vik - €6.50/hour

very nice and respectful

Asks BARE questions tho

He would tell me about all of his school project and how me the awards he’s won for them

Would watch a documentary for fun

But he looks nice enough and I would love to pet his duck

Harry - €17.50/hour

chaotic if he wishes to be

But he also looks like he can like pick an activity and stick to it

But still he can bitee 

Ankle biter kid

And he will Not eat anything Green

Or mildly healthy

Even though his parents explicitly told me not to give him sugar he somehow finds it and annoys you all day

Sugar Crashes and finally sleeps

JJ - €8.50/hour

looks nice enough 

Might come at me with all his high and mighty private school attitude 

But I think he’s pretty chill

And he’ll eat whatver his mom left for him

Calm I would say, average

Ethan - €7.50/hour

again looks nice

He seems like a very outdoorsy kid and I am not an outdoorsy person so it would not mix

Probably just watches tv all day

Have a feeling he’ll refuse to put on his clothes

Ankle kicker

Would kick me in the shins and I would cry but then he’s apologise and sit on the couch playing so it’s ok

Will not sleep on time tho that is a STRUGGLE

Josh - €4.50/hour

this boy cannot get up to trouble

Probably sits with his back straight

His smile is adorable 

Corrects ME about facts or smthing

Would ask me to read him a book as a goodnight

Sleeps at a reasonable time without a reminder

<3

Simon - €7.50/hour

would give me the DIRTIEST of looks

All the time 

One of the kids that eavesdrop on ur conversations

Doesn’t strike me as a TV kids would wanna go play with kids in the park 

Biter, bites other kids, me if I piss him off

Overall nice tho, he would give me his “dish” made of playdough

Tobi - :)/hour

I accept one smile from his per hour as payment

Seems like the happiest child ever

But I think if he was in a mood he would be the worst kid every I wouldn’t not want to be near him

Walks around stomping with his arms crossed and wrecks his room apart I would say

So acc like €5.50/hour 

[thewondelandifulcafe]

Happy Father’s Day!!

Title: Happy Father’s Day!!

Menu: Twisted Wonderland

Beverage: Thai Bubble Tea, Green Tea, Honeydew Milk Tea

Main Dish(es): Croissants

Side Dish(es): Pies: Pumpkin Pie

Spoilers: None

Word Count:

Trigger Warning: None    

Summary: How would they be as fathers? Good or Bad? Fun or Strict?

Notes: K/N = Kid’s name, O/K/N = other kid’s name

Leona Kingscholar 

He would be that father who would say “Yes honey” and not put up a fight with you. He’s too lazy. Yes even at what 35 or however old he is he’s still the laziest person your ever meet.

He’s also the dad that if their kid does something wrong he will do one of two things. One: Say nothing absolutely nothing to you if he finds it ever harmless or if he wants to annoy you. Two: Snitch on his kid. Yes he will snitch on his own kid. “Oh Y/N~ Guess what K/N did.” “Dad no!”

You and him have three or one kids no other questions. He refuses to have two kids. He knows the pain of being second oldest with no little sibling to be with him. Three kids is your best bet if you want more. 

He’s watching tv with you and your kid climbs on top of him. He’s “annoyed” and tries to push his kid alway. K/N staying on refusing to let go. And laying on his stomach like it’s a pillow. You are laughing and Leona is grinning ear to ear. Laughing loudly. 

“K/N get off” Leona says jokingly “annoyed”. Leona tries push K/N alway while K/N is whining because he doesn’t want to get off. You bursting out in laughter. Leona gives up and K/N lays his head on Leona’s stomach; napping. Leona grinning ear to ear. Both of you laughing. 

              “Like father like son/daughter”

Malleus Draconia

He’s that father who wants what’s best for his kid so he is strict but fun. He will always try to let his kid do whatever he wants (of course with normal rules) but if he thinks it’s too dangerous he will refuse to let them.

He wants maybe one or two but whatever his child of the man wants he’s happy to oblige. Nothing else is more important to him than his family. Anything you want he’s happy to deliver.

He goes all out on gifts for his kid, anything they want they’ll got of course with rules involved. Nothing is too expensive. This man is a prince for god sakes. He will probably want to buy a little too much. You have to tell him when enough is enough. He listens very easily. K/ N whines a bit.

“Mal don’t you think that’s a bit too much” you lay on Malleus’s arm. “Of course darling I didn’t realize,” Malleus says without much fuss. “But Dad,” K/N pouts. “K/N look at all the gifts you have already,” you tell K/N. K/N looks around to see the mountains of gifts. “Fineee” they whined.

               “Mal sometimes I think your spoil them too much.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Anything your kid wants he gives. No rules no nothing. You have to worry about that. Always wants to gift them something everyday. 

Wants to have like 19 or 32 kids like he did. But he’ll be happy with 5. He understands if you don’t want as much. But someone has to keep them company it can’t be just you two!

Overreacts about everything. K/N passed a history test? “Let’s have feast for their achievement!” He sprained his ankle? “Y/N CALL 911 WE NEED AN AMBULANCE!” Etc you get the deal. 

“K/N whats wrong? Kalim asks. “O/K/N pushed me!” K/N cried. “I hurt my ankle!” “YOU HURT YOUR ANKLE?!” Kalim screamed so loud you panicked and ran to where Kalim was. “KALIM WHAT HAPPENED?” You yelled. “Y/N CALL 911 WE NEED AN AMBULANCE!!” Kalim screams worried. “What why what happened.” “I hurt my ankle” K/N says with the most innocent face. “He’s fine” You said. “Really?!” Kalim says. 

            “Oh Kalim it’s not that big of a deal just let him rest.”

A/N: I finally posted! I’m so proud of this! Happy Father’s Day btw! Some of these things are based on my own dad so try and guess which one. I’m going to try to post on Sundays and Holidays! I’m taking requests! So please check here

[lovetowee]

Mommy Knows Best (Pt. 1?)

- For a friend, per their request - @unpottytrainedtboy

By: MrMister

“I think you should wear one,” I said sternly looking at my girlfriend.

            “I’m fine. There will be no issues. I’m an adult. I do not need to wear one of those.” She was referring to the pack of diapers I held in my hand.

            “Well you’ve been having accidents lately, and I’d rather not risk it going to Tiff and Logan’s tonight.” Her cheeks flushed bright red as her eyes dropped to the floor. She knew I was right.

            “It hasn’t happened very often,” she protested in a pouty voice.

            “You’ve wet the bed three times. You’ve even had daytime wetting accidents. Twice, I believe, you wet your pants. Not to mention that one time you pooped yourself.”

            “It wasn’t my fault,” she mumbled sadly. Katie was my girlfriend. She was younger than me by two years. I was twenty-six and she was twenty-four. I was the one who ‘wore the pants’ in the relationship. Little did she know that her accidents were mainly due to my influence. I’ve always had a thing for humiliating others. And nothing brought someone lower than watching them have an accident in public. I had been slipping laxatives and diuretics into her food and drinks for the past few weeks. On top of that I did things like take her on long drives. Or I had even drugged her with sleeping pills so she wouldn’t wake up when she needed to, resulting in an accident. The more she started to believe it, the more she mentally began to lose control.

            We were going to our friend’s house for the evening for some drinks. She didn’t know that tonight she was going to have a major accident. I offered her a diaper so that she might have some dignity. Even if she steadfastly refused to wear the diaper tonight, she was having the accident one way or the other. She could have it in a diaper, or in her pants.

            I had been working on weakening her control slowly. I finally believed she was losing muscle strength in her bladder and bowels. In the beginning when I spiked her food and drink with laxatives she easily made it to the washroom in time. Now, she was barely making it. I did the laundry in our house and I could see the brown skid marks in her underwear as proof. Her bladder was in real bad shape, she was actually wetting the bed unassisted most times.

            “Look, I know it’s not your fault. But you’ll feel a lot better if you’re protected.”

            “But it’s crinkly, they’ll notice,” she whined.

            “I made sure to get the discreet kind. I promise no one will notice them.”

            “Please, I promise I’ll be good.”

            I knew she wouldn’t. “Last chance: if you have an accident would you rather you soak your pants, or have it hidden in a diaper? Then I can just come home and change you in secret. No one will know.”

            “Fine,” she said resigned. She knew who the boss was in our relationship.

            We had a few hours before we were going to head over. Only thing I had to make was dinner before we left. I was making Katie’s favorite: Chicken noodle soup and garlic bread – although her soup would have a little something extra in it. So we just hung out for the afternoon enjoying each other’s company. Soon the sun started to sink and I began dinner. It didn’t take too long before everything was ready. I poured the soup in bowls, and the garlic bread on two little plates. Then I added the special ingredients to her soup: a diuretic and a very strong laxative. I planned the doses so that hopefully they would take effect while we were at Tiffany and Logan’s.

            I walked out and gave her the food. “Thank you, my Love,” she said. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and went back into the kitchen to grab my own. We ate quietly and watched TV together. After we finished I gathered the dishes and told her to start getting ready.

            “Make sure your diaper is on,” I yelled as she headed to our room. “And make sure you go pee before we leave.”

            “I will,” she said annoyed. I was smiling to myself while I washed the dishes. Tonight was going to be so much fun. Katie really had no idea. Poor thing. Once done with the dishes I went upstairs to get ready. Katie was checking herself out in the mirror when I entered our room. She wore a tight pair of jeans and a nice red shirt. Her hair was shoulder length and auburn. She was so cute, I just wanted her to be my baby forever.

            “Can you tell I’m wearing a diaper?” she asked. I walked over and pulled her shirt up. I looked down at her butt and was genuinely surprised I couldn’t tell at all. That was excellent, she would feel more confident. I wrapped my arms around her from behind. I kissed the back of her neck. My hands played with the front of her jeans feeling the padding beneath that covered her. She moaned a little as I caressed her.

            “I cannot see anything, You will be fine. Plus,” I said letting go of her, “you said you’d be a big girl tonight. So it’s just a precaution.”

            “Yeah, I’m staying dry tonight.” I chuckled quietly to myself as I finished getting ready. Within the hour we were ready and in the car. The ride was only about fifteen minutes across town. So I started the engine and we were off.

            We had barely started our trip when I could see Katie slightly fidgeting out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t believe the diuretic was already taking effect. I watched her a little more before stirring the pot. “You okay, Darling?” She just stared out the window trying to hide from my question. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

            “Is there anywhere we can quickly stop?” she asked in a little voice.

            “Why?” I wanted to make her say it out loud.

            “I really, really, have to pee,” she whimpered.

            “I told you to go before we left.”

            “I did!” she turned to me protesting, “You know I went before we left.” It was true I had seen her go into the washroom. And I had heard her successfully go pee at home.

            “Well, we’re five minutes from Tiff’s place you can go when we get there.” She had no idea it was completely out of her control. She was noticeably squirming now. Her hands were jammed between her legs. Finally as we turned onto the right street I hear my favorite sound: a small whimper.

            “Oh no,” she whispered. I pulled into the driveway, and parked the car. I looked over at Katie whose head was hung low. I knew what was happening.

            “I knew the diaper was a good idea. Finish going pee, then we’ll go in.” I turned the car off so I could hear the faint hiss of urine as she finished. We sat quietly in the car for a few minutes.

            “Can I take it off?” she turned to look at me, her eyes wet with tears. I smiled reassuringly but ultimately said, no.

            “Melissa please,” she whined, “it’s all swollen they will see.” I reached over and felt the front of her pants.

            “I cannot feel anything,” I said, undoing my seat belt. “You’ll be fine. If that is the only accident tonight, no one will be able to tell.”

            “Please just let me take it off. I’ll be good, I promise.”

            “No, let’s go,” I said firmly. “You had an accident like a toddler and you can stay in it.” I got out of the car and she slowly followed me. I grabbed her hand as we walked to the front door. I rang the doorbell and whispered, “You’ll be fine, Love.” Tiffany answered the door and ushered us in.

            “Hey guys, so glad to see you,” she said hugging me. “Logan they’re here!” She gave Katie a hug too. We took our shoes off and followed her into the house. Tiffany wore a very attractive dress. She had tan skin and very dark hair. Katie was very cute and that’s why I loved her. Tiffany was like a model. She had big breasts and a well toned butt. But she wasn’t my type. She was just too sexy for my likings. I didn’t like strong women, like Tiff, I preferred the quiet ones like Katie whom I could control a little more easily. And it didn’t matter anyway because Tiffany was straight.

            The kitchen was loaded with snacks: meat, cheese and veggies. Logan and Tiff were well off so they always supplied everything when we came over to visit. I could see the TV room, the football game was on and Logan was standing in front watching.

            “Here,” Tiffany said handing us each a glass of wine. “Logan come say hello.” Katie and Tiff started up a conversation as Logan came over to me with a beer in one hand.

            “Hey Gals, how are things?”

            “Great,” I said happily, “Katie just got a promotion at her job.”

            “Oh that’s amazing!” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “Tiffany is still hunting for a better job.”

            “Oh my God,” Tiff spoke up, “I cannot stand working for my new boss, he’s such a dick. Ever since he started my whole job has just sucked.” We all just shot the shit for a while. We sipped our drinks, and snacked on snacks. Tiffany was my friend from High School. That is where she had met Logan. They had gotten married early and they’ve always done well for themselves. They were a bit basic in my opinion. They’re the type of people who think ‘Doggy Style’ was something that was hot and exciting. I was also pretty sure Logan had a crush on me. Even though he knew that I was playing for the other team.

            Eventually we started playing cards. Logan bounced between that and the football game. We all talked about our lives and caught up on all we had missed in the last few weeks. I kept feeding Katie drinks in the hope it would make her more forgetful. I stopped drinking because I said I had to drive, but that wasn’t the real reason. I wanted to be alert for when what I hoped would happen, happened.

            We snacking again and Tiff was telling me all about her horrible boss when Katie stood up and announced she was going to the washroom. I cut her off and kissed her quickly whispering, “Your diaper better stay on.” She nodded.

            She hugged me and said, “I’m just going pee, honest. I told you I would be okay.” I couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary and there were no wet spots on her pants from a second accident. Her bladder must not have been as weak as I hoped, much to my dismay. I went back and continued my conversation with Tiffany.

            In a few minutes Katie was back. She came over and stood by me. I wrapped my arms around her back. I looked like I just had my arm around her waist, but my fingers played with the waist of her jeans. Yes, I felt the diaper. She had not removed it. Not that I cared if she did, it would just be more of a mess in her pants. How silly of me, I thought rubbing her back now. She had nowhere to throw the diaper away. She had to keep it on. Katie poured herself another drink. Her cheeks were red since she was starting to get drunk.

            Logan’s football game finally ended and he came over to chat, his attention no longer divided. He told me about this idea he had for a business. It sounded similar to an idea I had. So we were talking avidly about that while Katie and Tiff were engrossed in a topic I couldn’t quite make out. I was watching Katie, lost in her conversation, and sipping her drink. Every now and then her hand casually moved over her tummy. The laxatives were having an effect, I thought happily to myself. I was hoping Katie was too distracted to notice her growing urge. Even if she slightly noticed the urge she had difficulty pooping at other people’s houses. So I bet she would try to stall as long as possible.

            Katie and Tiff came over, and all four of us were all eagerly chatting. I was contributing but I didn’t know what I said because I was watching and hoping.

            Then, mid conversation, it happened.

            Katie’s stomach and bowels made a loud, audible gurgle. She stopped talking as her eyes opened wide. The sounds from her were quite obvious and everyone had stopped talking now, in shock. We could hear wet, messy sounds as her bowels emptied themselves into her diaper. I could just imagine the warm mess spreading between her cheeks. I could tell she was trying to stop herself but the laxatives were too strong. And with a final bubbly, squish sound she was done. Silence and a smell began to waft around the kitchen. Katie’s eyes watered and she rushed off to the washroom, hiding her face.

            “Is she okay?” Tiff asked. Logan just looked disgusted.

            “I better go check,” I excused myself. I was probably the only person at the moment who was ecstatic. I was over the moon. Everything had gone perfectly. I could feel my panties getting damp with arousal. But I had to play this well. I needed to get her home and comfort her. When I was all she had, she would be my baby.

            I knocked on the door, “It’s me.” I could hear her crying as she unlocked the door. I got in, closed the door and gave her a hug. “It’s okay,” I soothed, “it’s okay. Just breathe.” She cried into my shoulder. I was so turned on. It was her embarrassment – plus the smell of her mess – really had me soaked. This wasn’t about me though, not yet at least.

            “Honey, I’m going to tell them you’re sick and not feeling well.” She rubbed some tears from her eyes, but nodded. “You stay here, and when I come back we’ll go right to the car. Okay?” She nodded again.

            I left the bathroom, once again closing the door behind me. Logan and Tiffany were whispering heatedly as I approached the kitchen. They stopped as I got near.

            “So is she okay?” Tiff asked again.

            “She’s not feeling well, maybe a little too much to drink,” I explained. “We’re just going to head home.”

            “I hope she feels better soon,” Tiff added. I could tell she didn’t care. Her and Logan were too normal to really be able to handle something like this.

            “Of course,” I said, “sorry. Thanks for the the great night. We’ll just let ourselves out.” With that I turned to go. Neither of them followed to see us out. I could make out Logan saying, “She shit her pants, that’s so gross.” It didn’t faze me; I had what I came for.

            I knocked on the bathroom door and ushered her out. She was still crying with her head hung low. Outside we went and got into the car. Tiff and Logan would probably never invite us back, but who needed Normies? Katie stood outside of the car with the door open, staring at the seat.

            “Come on Katie-bear, hop in.”

            “But, but,” she protested through tears.

            “it cannot get any worse, Honey. Just get in and get it over with. The sooner we’re home the sooner I can clean you up.” She slowly got in the car, trying to put as little weight as she could on the mess in her diaper. But it was a losing battle. She looked mortified as her dirty bum mush have squished all around her diaper. She started to cry again as soon as the door was closed. I pulled out of the driveway. The smell of her accident was very obvious in our small car.

            “Well, aren’t you glad you wore the diaper?”

            “I guess,” she sniffled.

            “At least your pants didn’t get ruined.”

            “But now Tiff and Logan think I’m a disgusting baby.”

            “No they don’t,” I reassured her.

            “Yes they do. Plus I smell gross and I feel gross. And I’m a grown woman who just shit her pants.” She continued crying and I loved every second of it. “I don’t even care anymore.” I didn’t quite know what she meant by that last comment, but soon in the passing street lights I could make out a dark spot growing on the front of her jeans. She was peeing again, and not even trying to hold it. The diaper was too full from her previous wetting and it had begun to leak. “Since everyone thinks I’m a baby, I’ll just potty in my pants like a baby.” I hoped she was serious, but she also was quite drunk, so maybe it was that. Either way whether she accepted it or not she was going to be using diapers the rest of her life.

            “Katie you’re beautiful and I love you. I’m always here for you. I don’t think you’re a baby. You’re strong, independent, and you’re my big girl. It’s okay to have accidents every now and again.”

            “Really?” she asked, her tears starting to finally dry.

            “Who cares if you shit yourself, it happens to the best of people.” She was quiet. “You don’t know this but Tiff wet herself at a party when we were sixteen. It can happen to anyone.”

            “Okay,” she mumbled, “I love you.” Her tears had dried and she just stared out the window. We got home and pulled into our driveway. I turned the car off and got out. Lucky for her it was dark, so even if our neighbors were out no one would be able to see anything. Katie got out of the car and slowly waddled to the front door. I could tell she did not like the feeling of her dirty bum.

            “Wait for me upstairs,” I commanded. She knew where to go to get changed. This obviously wasn’t the first time.

            Alright, I thought to myself, time to take this thing home! I went to the covered where I had hid a few things for a moment like this. I removed them from their packaging and got everything ready before I heading upstairs and dealing with my very wet, very messy baby girl.

            I set the items down where she couldn’t see. I grabbed the wipes, baby powder, and a fresh diaper. She was already laying on the floor with her clothes off. I had trained her well.

            “You had some trouble tonight, Sweetie. So we’re going to put you in another diaper for bed.” She didn’t fight me this time, she just looked at me and nodded. I undid the sides of her diaper and opened it up. Her whole bum was covered in poop. The whole diaper was a wet, brown mess. Her perfectly shaved vagina was also covered from when she had sat on her dirty bum. She really looked like a two-year-old who had just had a blowout. Her hands covered her face in embarrassment. As if hiding would make the mess and shame disappear.

            “At least your tummy is happy now, with all that yuck out,” I reassured as I pat her belly gently. “It would have been all over your nice panties if you weren’t in diapers. Then you’d feel really little.” I grabbed some wipes and started to get to work. I began with her butt cheeks that were caked in warm poop. I wiped and wiped and slowly her cheeks were white once more. I was cleaning her little butt hole when she started to whimper.

            “Mel,” she said in a tiny voice.

            “Yes, Honey,” I said. My hand stopped cleaning her.

            “My tummy is grumbly again.” Her eyes were wet with tears again.

            “You have to potty again?” She nodded. “Okay,” I said and quickly slipped a fresh diaper under her partially cleaned bum and taped it up. “Mommy is here, you get all the yuckies out.”

            “Okay, Mommy,” she responded. She stopped looking at me and turned to face the wall. I was happy these laxatives were still doing their job. I hadn’t even finished cleaning the first mess and she was about to go for round two! Before she started her business I walked over and grabbed one of the items from the table. I walked back over and popped the pacifier into her mouth. She took it without protest and began to suck on it quietly. Through the sucking I could hear her pushing as she wetly went potty into her fresh diaper. I watched it bulge out as her bubbly, farty mess poured out of her. I just wanted to stick my face down there. It sounded like another soft mess. A couple more pushes and some noise between her legs, and she must have finally finished.

            “All done,” she said sounding childish talking with a soother in her mouth.

            “For sure this time?” I asked in my stern Mommy voice. “Don’t have to pee again?” she shook her head. “And no more poops?” Head shake again. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll clean you up. Just enjoy your pacifier.”

            So once again I undid her diaper. Her mess was a lot creamier and it smelled very bad this time around, not that I wasn’t turned on. Katie was holding her nose as I started to clean her butt cheeks again. I got her pale cheeks nice and clean for the second time. I made sure in between the cheeks and her butt hole were spotless. Finally I cleaned up her vagina, making sure to clean her well to avoid infections. After I was done I gently teased her pussy lips. She moaned softly as I touched her. Then, before things got too out of hand, I covered her in baby powder and taped a new diaper on her.

            “Go get your onesie on, please.” Katie got up, still sucking her soother, and grabbed an orange fox onesie from the closet. She put it on and got in bed. She knew the drill. I brought the other item I had prepared over: a bottle of milk. I took the pacifier out of her mouth and she looked upset. I quickly handed her the bottle and she eagerly started drinking it. She closed her eyes.

            “Sleep tight, Angel,” I said kissing her forehead.

            “Good night, Mommy,” she said quietly. And I left her to sleep. I hoped she was embracing this lifestyle, and it wasn’t still the booze talking. Either way she was mine. I had spiked the milk with a sleeping pill, another light diuretic, and a basic laxative. She would have no idea. Hopefully she would wake up wet and messy. Then we could do this all again tomorrow.

            I smiled to myself, Mommy always got what she wanted.