#wanted to post early so they can make their rounds

[toxicanonymity]

Hey Boo,

I've been seeing Joelkemons making the rounds being the best kind of dude to have around when you're crying.

Is Stepdad is having very strong feelings about all of this too? I imagine of Raider (LOML) and NW are being so soft with us, something in stepdad might respond to our hopelessly impotent rage.

I'd love to see how he reacts.

Boy howdy, tho, if I could slip into the brothel and have a big ol' Joel-pile, that shit would fix me all the way.

Thank you so much for everything you do and are.

I hope you're taking care of yourself too.

-- Cupquake <3

black tuesday

JOEL x f!READER | 1000 words

WARNINGS: 18+. Election Night. ANGST. Tears. Fears. This is intended to be a cathartic fic with some comfort but please don't read if it could be traumatic. Allusions to reproductive rights, etc. Reader is angry, esp. at men, takes it out on joel a little. Joel is supportive. Reader dacryphilia, brief smut. STEPDAD AU but you don't need to know it, and the stepcest doesn't come up.

NOTES: Sweet Cupquake, you're welcome and thank you for always being so supportive. Poor stepdad, he's normally the one needing comforting, isn't he? Yes, he has strong feelings about all this. This doesn't fit neatly in the AU timeline just roll with it. My brief post on the election is here. This will most likely be my only fic that overtly acknowledges the u.s. election. DO NOT INTERACT: TRUMP VOTERS, ANTI-CHOICE PEOPLE, MINORS.

You’re sitting on the floor of your apartment watching the news while Joel makes dinner and a huge mess in the kitchen. When the early votes are counted, we’ll see a lot more blue, they said. No, actually. Not really. You turn the volume way down so you can barely hear it. 

“Pasta’s ready,” Joel announces in a weak, sing-song voice. 

You remain on the floor. Your breathing is shallow, and it doesn’t feel real. 

Joel comes into the living room but doesn’t sit down. He stands with his arms crossed. His neck veins are bulging, his biceps are tense, his jaw clenches as he watches the screen. He’s pissed, he’s so angry watching this happen. He’s embarrassed to be a Texan. He thinks about all the women he knows. Embarrassed to be a man. 

He looks back and forth between the tv and you, and he sees your eyes are watery. He brings your glass of water from the kitchen, but you refuse it. He puts it down on the coffee table. Then, he picks up the remote control and turns off the tv. 

“Why’d you do that?” you snap. 

“It’s only makin’ ya sad,” Joel replies. “It’s still early, there’s time.” 

“Sad?? You think I’m sad?” Heat rises to your face. Your chest tightens.  

“Okay,” Joel acknowledges softly. “I can see you’re not just sad.” 

He sits down and tries to put his arm around you but you scoot over to face him. 

“All you men just go around blowing your loads everywhere and we’re the ones who have to deal with it, and you have the nerve to tell us how.” 

“I’d never tell you how to--you know that.”

“--I am so fucking tired of men talking.” 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and sits quietly next to you for a minute. It’s hard knowing there’s nothing he can do or say, but he’s not going to leave you unless you tell him to. 

He clears his throat and asks softly, “Would anything make ya feel better?”

“Only waking up from this nightmare.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges. 

“I don’t wanna feel better,” you begin to cry. “I want it to not happen….Like, is this real life?” 

None of it feels real. Months ago, people in stupid red hats were carrying around actual sperm cups. The highest-profile rapist in the country called himself the father of fertility, and crowds of people cheered. He said “mass deportation” and people cheered more. And then half the country voted for these sick, twisted buffoons. 

“You want some space?” Joel asks. 

“No,” you protest tearfully.

He hesitantly brushes the back of your neck with his thumb. This time, you let him put his arm around you. 

You whisper, “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“Sweetheart, it ain’t over. We got time.” 

You shake your head no, ‘cause you can feel it in your gut. 

Joel sits in silence for a moment, and you can’t see it, but he’s tearing up because he can feel you burning and he’s powerless. 

He holds you and strokes your back while you bury your face in his chest. He discreetly checks his new york times app and tries not to react out loud- it’s only getting worse. 

After a few minutes of silence, he whispers your name, and you respond, “mm?”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. 

You look up to see his cheeks wet, his hair messy. Your heart swells with affection. Affection and… gratitude? God, the bar is in hell. But to be fair, you really love him. You’re grateful for the man he is, not the one he isn’t. 

Desire begins to stir in your chest.

Joel presses a kiss onto your forehead, then lifts your chin, and you look at each other. He brushes away a tear from your cheek. With his own cheeks still wet, he swallows, and the emotional bob of his Adam’s apple sends a rush of arousal to your core. You put your hand on the back of his neck and pull him toward you for a kiss. 

Affection and relief floods your body. It’s temporary, of course, but you let yourself have this. You let the nightmare fade into a spicy dream. 

You straddle him and he pulls you close and moans into your mouth. You kiss him desperately and feel him harden under you. He hesitates and mutters, “sorry,” trying to read the room. He pushes your thighs back, trying to put some distance between you and his hard-on. 

“Stop,” you reply, then latch onto his mouth again. He breaks away and says, “Just don’t want ya to feel like I–” 

“Shut up,” you tell him, then scoot yourself closer, your crotch firmly planted on the warm, stiffening shape in his sweatpants. You grind your hips into him. He kisses you back with increased fervor, and moans into your mouth. Kissing passionately, your loins throb warmly together and your hips move in rhythm. 

You reach between the two of you and slide your hand down his sweatpants. You palm his leaking manhood. Pressing it against his tummy, you gently move the skin on his shaft, and  He groans.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and thrusts against your hand. 

You stand up to urgently take off your pj pants. 

His man-guilt is still eating at him. Squeezing his aching hard shaft, he lets out a moan, then weakly offers, “Are you sure you wanna…”

In response, you straddle him, hot and dripping against his bare arousal.  You slide against him, throbbing and ready. Then, as you slide his tip to your entrance, you warn him, “Get it while it’s on the table.” You sink down on him and he shudders. Then he thrusts upward and moans as he bottoms out.  

“My legs’ll be closed for business soon,”  you explain. 

He closes his eyes and breathes deep as your body accommodates his.  “Fair enough,” he answers thoughtfully, then opens his eyes. “Wait. Even if my face is the customer?” 

------

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NOTES: I actually wrote three Stepdad things, and chronologically, this is no. 2 of 3. The others aren't posted yet. The first one is a standalone pregnancy scare, nothing about the election (would've been before it). And the second one is a post-election talk about contraception.

My brief post on the election is here.

Thank you for reading. Please remember to take care of yourselves <33

[violetsaffron5]

Beautiful Disaster (12)

← Chapter 11 • series masterlist • Chapter 13 →

12 | Okinawa

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

The group takes a trip to Okinawa

words: 3.8k

AN: Hey guys! Not sure if anyone is even reading this story anymore, but I fell of the face of the planet for a while, sorry about that. Things IRL were crazy with work and my personal life, and I just didn't have it in me to write anything. I actually had this chapter already done but forgot to post it here. It was posted on wattpad and Ao3 previously.

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

March 2012

You’re running late - class got out late, and then you wanted to go back to your dorm to take a quick shower. You would normally just do that at his place, but you also needed to finish packing a few items for your weekend getaway.

Satoru was able to talk his parents into letting him use their vacation home in Okinawa. Apparently, they have a few to choose from, but the beaches are supposed to be amazing and it’s close enough that you can go there for the weekend without having to spend too much time traveling back and forth.

From what you’ve gathered, this is a trip Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and Utahime plan every year. They were partying and hanging out one night, and spur of the moment Satoru wanted to get away and have some fun elsewhere so they jumped on a plane and spent the weekend there.

It’s a little cold this time of year, but you guys will make the most of it nonetheless. It’ll be nice, getting away, spending a relaxing weekend with your boyfriend and closest friends, not having to worry about school or anything else getting in the way.

When you walk into the off-campus house, your eyes immediately land on Satoru, leaning against the wall with his little round sunglasses covering his eyes. He turns and smiles as you walk over, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a soft peck on the lips.

You apologize for being late, but nobody seems to mind. It’s still early enough in the day that when you arrive in Okinawa everyone will have a chance to unpack and relax before heading to bed.

While everyone does a few last-minute checks to make sure they have everything they need, you hear a crisp high-pitched laugh come from the kitchen that makes your skin crawl.

Your eyes lock with Satoru’s while kissing your teeth in automatic annoyance.

“Oh boy,” Utahime sighs heavily as you wait for an explanation as to why Mei is walking into the living room with her suitcase in tow.

“Dude… You didn’t tell her Mei was coming?” Suguru states grimly before you have a chance to say anything.

You tilt your head to the side, incredibly annoyed, “You knew she was coming and didn’t say anything?”

Satoru shrugs, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Sukuna invited her, not me.”

Your unamused expression is obvious as you quirk your eyebrow and glare at Sukuna from across the room. He grins, sharp canines on full display as he laughs quietly to himself, mischief in his eyes.

Fucker.

An irritated sigh leaves your lips but you decide to let it go. You were hoping to have a good weekend with your friends, and you’re still determined to do that, despite this little … hiccup.

The plus of dating someone who comes from an incredibly rich family, means there are times when you get to reap the benefits of his families hard earned money.

Case in point: taking their private jet to Okinawa.

And how could you possibly complain when being showered with complimentary champagne, spacious seating, and plenty of time to start your relaxing weekend?

Even Mei was bearable. But that’s mostly because she was tucked away at the back of the plane with Sukuna.

As expected, the Gojo’s vacation home - more of an estate really - is massive. The front is covered is lush, green grass with small areas of sand around a stone path that leads to the house - the front is covered with large, floor-to-ceiling windows to allow plenty of light.

The back is all white sand with a large pool - a hut off to the side with a hot tub, and another brick path that leads out to a dock with the ocean at your disposal. The water is so clean and beautiful here. Not as pretty as Satoru’s eyes, but a close second.

Inside the house is just as grand, with marble flooring, a huge kitchen with the latest appliances, and not a speck of dust in sight - it’s as if they have someone clean it, even though they don’t come here very often.

There are also more rooms than you know what to do with - enough space for everyone to have their own space without having to worry about sharing. Unless they choose to.

After deciding rooms - from which Sukuna and Mei don’t reappear, you leave Shoko, Utahime, and Suguru to their own devices, following Satoru down to the beach - only after promising to get into the hot tub with the girls tomorrow and spend time with them.

Tonight you’re spending the evening with Satoru.

He looks happy here, truly at peace. More than you’ve ever seen as he stands on the beach, sand between his toes, staring off into the wonders of the sea.

It’s reminiscent of the little beach he brought you to on your first date. Only this time there are no surfboards. He admitted, not long after you started officially dating, that he only used that as an excuse to touch you.

Dipping your toe in the cool water, a shiver runs through your spine moments before you’re splashed, head to toe, by salty freezing water.

Glaring at Satoru, he grins playfully before splashing you again and running into the ocean without a care in the world.

“Oh, you asshole!”

You run after him, laughing until he dives into the water. Huffing, you continue going out to where he submerged, legs kicking you out to see before yelping when large arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into that familiar hard chest.

“You really are a dickhead, you know that?” You’re not too upset, clearly, with the way your legs automatically wrap around his waist, his hands on your ass holding you in place.

He grins mischievously, “I’ll let you give my dick head, baby.”

“Don’t be gross.” You splash him gently with water before his lips connect with yours, and your arms wrap gently around his neck.

He pulls away to run his nose down the length of yours, causing you to sigh at the loss of contact before he’s back to nibbling your lower lip and kissing along your jaw.

Satoru is more loving than you ever could have imagined, especially after spilling your heart and telling him what happened between you and your mother. There was a part of you that was afraid he would think you’re too much of a mess, and wouldn’t want to deal with that part of your life.

But he’s proven you wrong. And this new direction your relationship has taken has made you really truly happy. You haven’t told him - or anyone really - but there have been thoughts lately that you can see yourself by his side for the rest of your life.

After what feels like forever, with kiss-swollen lips and pruney fingers from being out in the ocean, you make your way back to land. Shoko is there, smoking a cigarette and lying on one of the beach chairs.

Your cheeks heat because you didn’t realize she had made her way out here, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered. She does, however, hand you your phone and you eye is suspiciously wondering why she has it.

She shrugs, like she knows what you’re thinking, “Thought you’d want some pics. The sun was setting. You know, romance and all that.”

Shoko waves her hand in the direction of the ocean and you see what she means. The sun has started setting, and the pink, red, and purple hues from the sunset cast over the ocean.

“Wow,” you breathe, flipping through the few photos she took, “These are beautiful.”

Satoru lays his arms over your shoulders, looking at the pictures from over top your head, “Send me that one.”

You smile and do as he asks - you have your arm wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together, and smiling with the colors from the sunset in the background. It’s the perfect picture.

“I thought you said you were going to stop smoking,” Utahime scolds, startling all three of you. She’s marching towards Shoko with a fierce expression, Suguru walking behind her with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips.

Satoru chuckles, kissing your forehead, and lacing his fingers with yours. 

“We’ll… See you guys tomorrow.” He says, flashing his eyebrows at his friends before Utahime can continue her argument with Shoko.

Your cheeks flame immediately, giggling as you awkwardly wave to them. They mutter half-hearted good nights, not really paying attention to either of you.

The weekend is peaceful - spending the day exploring around the estate, going to the ocean and swimming, laying out reading and just having quality time with your friends.

Mostly.

Mei is still around but hasn’t shown up a lot, off doing her own this with Sukuna. Which is a weird thought, the two of them together, but to each their own. And at any rate, you’re happy she’s not hanging around and overstaying her welcome.

By evening the two of them are hanging out in the kitchen when the rest of you come inside from lounging at the beach. You don’t acknowledge either of them - annoyed, yet not surprised - Sukuna would invite Mei just to piss you off.

Wrapping your arms around Satoru, you hold him close as he places his hand loosely around your shoulder, talking with Suguru. You’re not paying much attention as you flash your eyebrows to Shoko and purse your lips, the awkwardness of the unwanted guests - at least unwanted to you - setting in the space.

Shoko gasps, causing everyone's attention to fall on her, “We should play a game!”

Everyone chuckles at the slight slur of her words - she’s been nursing several beers and a few mixed drinks all day, taking full advantage of her absence from clinicals or work.

“What’d you have in mind?” Suguru asks, laughing when Shoko lifts her empty beer bottle in the air.

“Spin the bottle.” Shoko grins like it’s the best idea in the world while you roll your eyes.

Everyone agrees to appease her drunken state, moving into the living room, moving chairs, and getting comfortable around the coffee table.

“Alright, if you don’t kiss the person the bottle lands on,” Shoko announces, pointing her index finger in your direction, “Then you have to drink.”

You purse your lips. You know why she decided to point at you, and only you when making this announcement, but you really didn’t need the direct call out. Sure, everyone would assume it’s because of you but this was just unnecessary.

A sigh leaves your lips as you nod once, letting it go. Shoko’s drunk and you’re sure she didn’t intentionally mean it to come across like that.

During the game Shoko and Suguru kiss, Satoru and Suguru (causing several giggles), Mei and Sukuna. Utahime’s spin lands on Satoru - he grins at her boyishly but she makes a disgruntled face, opting to drink.

Not that you would have cared - you know Utahime can barely stand him and even if they did, or even Shoko kissed him - it wouldn’t have meant anything between them.

When Satoru leans forward and spins the bottle, it lands on Mei to your annoyance. She smiles, moving from her spot on the couch, closer to Satoru across the table. You glare at Sakuna who smiles wickedly, smoking his cigarette before passing it to Shoko.

When Satoru doesn’t reach for his cup, you hand him yours. He raises an eyebrow like the cup has personally offended him in some way, “What’s that for?”

“To drink?” You explain slowly, “Since you’re passing.”

He scoffs, narrowing his eyes, “It’s just a kiss. In a game everyone wanted to play.”

“And there was an added rule if you don’t want to do the kiss, you drink.”

Your heart is racing, jaw clenched as you stare each other down. Part of you wonders if you’re being unreasonable right now. It’s a game, and to his point, everyone did agree to play. But if Choso were here, and you spun and it landed on him, you would have skipped in a heartbeat knowing Satoru doesn’t like your dynamic.

Hell, you were planning on skipping if it landed on Sukuna or Suguru too��� and Mei.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, shaking your head slightly, defeated because you don’t want to argue right now and ruin everyone’s good time, even though you know it’s already happening.

“Fine,” You wave your hand in his direction, “Do what you want.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, grabbing the cup and downing all of his contents while his eyes bore into you, glaring.

“Maybe we… should head to the hot tub?” Suguru suggests, eyes flickering between you and Satoru.

“Ooh, yeah!” Shoko perks up, eyes bright after watching the scene in front of her.

You don’t reply, going back to your room to change and cool off for a few minutes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Satoru appears but doesn’t speak. You can feel the tension rolling off him as he grabs his swim trunks and goes into the bathroom - away from you - to change before leaving the room.

There’s a part of you that doesn’t want to go back out there, and just stay in the room until you leave tomorrow. But at the same time, you do want to get into the hot tub one last time, forget about the stupid, childish game, and just move on.

When you come out of hiding and go to the hot tub, everyone is chatting happily. Satoru, still annoyed you can tell, helps you step into the water without falling and pulls you into his lap, resting his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You listen to the many conversations happening - Suguru and Satoru talking, one of his hands running up and down the length of your leg, the tension slowly dissipating. Utahime and Shoko are talking about their work schedules and the classes they have coming up during the next semester.

Mei sits next to Sukuna, whose long arms are wrapped around the back of the hot tub. He has more tattoos than you realized. Not only on his face but on his chest, back, biceps, and wrists.

You’re about to ask Sukuna if they mean anything or if they’re religious - satanic being your first guess, or ritualistic in some way when Mei’s sharp voice cuts through your thoughts about Sukuna and wondering if he sacrifices puppies - you wouldn’t be shocked knowing him.

“Satoru. I’m so excited for Bora Bora this summer.”

Your brows furrow and jaw clenches, and not just because, to you, her voice is as grating as nails on a chalkboard.

Satoru nods, but you cut in before he has a chance to say anything, “You’re going on vacation… together?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “Apparently. Mom started planning it after Winter break.”

“And your families are going together?” You clarify.

“Yeah. Several of Dad’s closest business partners are going.”

“Okay…” You exhale slowly, “How long will you be gone?”

Satoru shrugs again, “Not sure. Maybe a month? The details aren’t finalized yet.”

Kissing your teeth, you stare at him, bewildered for a moment. The earlier… disagreement causing your heart to ache and being told a vacation with Mei’s family has been in the works for months without anyone mentioning it to you.

And you know why Mei brought it up.

“Were you going to tell me? Or maybe you were planning on ghosting me again.”

You go to move, not wanting to sit on his lap any longer, but his grip on your waist halts your movements.

“I’m telling you now.”

A short, unamused scoff comes out, “You’re only saying it now because Mei brought it up in front of me.”

He sighs, frustrated, “Yes, I was planning to tell you. I’ve been trying to talk Mom into letting you come, but she’s been adamant about it only being business partners and their families.”

“Of course she is. I’m not good enough for her precious image.”

“And,” Satoru interjects, “I wasn’t sure if your mom would let you come.”

This time you successfully wriggle out of his lap and get out of the hot tub, “That’s a lie and you know it. Mom doesn’t give a shit as long as I tell her where I’m at and call her once a week.”

“Where are you going?” Satoru asks, watching you wrap a towel around your frame and head inside.

“Bed. I’ve been humiliated enough for the night.”

You can hear Satoru sigh heavily before Mei says just loud enough for you to hear, “Isn’t it tiresome having to chase after her every time she gets a little upset or something doesn’t go her way?”

You don’t stick around to hear Satoru’s answer. So annoyed you don’t care, or afraid of what he might say, you’re not entirely sure at the moment.

Satoru doesn’t come after you, which you’re partially thankful for. You need some time to yourself.

He’s been so adamant things are over between them, and you want to believe him so badly, but things keep happening to pull them back together.

Their families are business partners, there’s no getting around that. And it’s not like you can ask his dad to just stop that - that would be insane. They’re going to be around each other, a lot, whether you like it or not.

His mom is clearly pushing them to be together - probably wanting to merge their business or expand their support. Things only the filthy rich think about - marrying their children off like that for more growth in the business world.

Maybe it is supposed to be them together - Satoru and Mei. Maybe you’re the one getting in the way of their happily ever after. After all, she did come first in terms of romantic interest.

Despite what Satoru says, there had to be some sort of attraction between them for him to stick around. He wouldn’t do that only for his mom’s sake, you don’t think at least.

But you also don’t bring anything of real value to the table - in terms of familial ties. You’re not rich, your family has nothing to offer him, and yet he still insists you’re the one he wants to be with, despite Mei’s best efforts.

And maybe you need to look at things from his point of view - he and Mei grew up together, and yes, they have a history with one another. Nothing you do or say will ever stop that being a fact. Maybe you just need to put up with it and deal with the hardships and the families pushing them together until you’ve graduated and can move on.

But that presents other issues. If you and Satoru are still together, once he finishes law school, is guaranteed he’ll be working at his dad’s firm, so they’ll still likely be around each other.

You groan, pulling at your hair slightly in frustration before running your palms down your face as the bedroom door opens and closes quietly.

Satoru sighs, the bed dipping under his weight. He’s leaning forward, his forearms on his knees as he speaks calmly, “You know if I wanted to still be with Mei, I would be.” He watches you through the corner of his eye, “Why are you so insecure around her?”

You think about it for a moment, chewing on your cheek, “She’s beautiful, and-”

“You’re gorgeous,” he interrupts.

Normally your heart would flutter at his words but instead, your lips form a straight line before continuing, “She’s rich and her family means something to yours. It’s painfully obvious she wants you back, and she’s willing to do anything to break us up. You act like a different person when she’s around - and when there’s an argument or I bring up the fact that I don’t like her, you continue to say the same things: that nothing is going on, rather than hearing me out. You take her side over mine. It’s like… you’re ashamed of me.”

“I’m not. At all.” He says quickly, “And there isn’t anything going on. It doesn’t matter if you think she’s trying to break us up -”

“God. This! I mean, do you even listen when you talk to me? I just want to rip out my hair and scream sometimes because of you.”

Satoru raises his eyebrows, before asking incredulously, “Because of me?”

“Yes! All you do is defend her and tell me I should just deal with the shit she says or the fact that she’s trying to weasel her way in between us. But my boyfriend won't fucking do that, because everything is just my problem to deal with on my own.”

“That’s not what I said at all. Jesus, you’re so dramatic, about everything.” He stands, taking several steps away from you and leaning against the wall.

You stare at him, tears welling in your eyes. “You’re right,” you resign, trying to not let the tears escape and failing, “Clearly, I’m the problem, not her. You can just… go do what you want. I won’t stop you anymore.

“Are you serious?” He asks in disbelief as you stand, gathering your belongings, but you don’t reply.

It’s quiet in the room, aside from a few sniffles you can’t help. When you make your way to the bathroom to gather your toiletries, Satoru’s hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Stop. We’re not doing this,” He motions between the two of you. “You’re not leaving, or breaking up with me, or whatever it is you’re trying to do right now. If I wanted to be with Mei, or anyone else, I would be. But I’m not, I’m with you. Okay?”

A few stray tears stream down your cheek as you look off to the side, anywhere but him while whispering, “Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

Gently, he reaches out and grabs your cheeks, forcing your face up, “Look at me,” he says quietly.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly let your eyes meet his ocean-blue ones as he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping away the few stray tears, “I love you, okay?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod your head a few times, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before his lips meet yours.

Your heart still feels heavy, despite his words. They used to make you feel better, but it’s just the same thing over and over again.

At the start of the weekend, you thought you’d be happy spending your life by Satoru’s side - but now you wonder how much longer you can keep this up. The same pain and heartache on repeat with no real changes.

@petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @desthevirgo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @musababy @sagejin @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @erenputurchildreninsideme @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui @sugurunicorn @niki-sun @lilith412426 @sofiaconlaz @lxvephxbic @iam-mia9 @laylasbunbunny @creolequeen11210 @xiaosie @lem-hhn @yogurttea @slut-jr @crystxlline @ritsatoru @abba-simp @myabae @etherealkakashi @hyperfixationsporfavor @yihona-san06 @ambersea7 @knightoflove

[bearlytolerant]

Happy Valentine’s Day Week! Shoutout to @fangbangerghoul and @silurisanguine for assisting with card sayings!

[petitgalaxy]

..

[luveline]

Can you do hotch and pregnant!reader where they’ve been trying for a baby for awhile without success and he comes home from a mission to a pregnancy announcement?

pregnant!reader, 1k

Trying for a baby with Aaron is undeniably a good time. He’s the kindest man you’ve ever met. He loves you intensely. 

There’s been a lot of intimacy (crassly but obviously), ten times as many kisses, and a heap of disappointed hugs to mellow it out. 

“We aren’t in any rush,” he’d said last time, in the midst of a post-test back rub, his voice soft and comforting as always, “we just need to take our time. You’ll wish we took a little more time once it happens, I promise.”  

When you do find out, you’re overjoyed. He should know logistically that it was possible for you to find out while he was away, and he shouldn’t be surprised, but you’re hoping he will be anyhow. He looks moody walking up the path to the house, a little less when he notices you and Jack sitting on the porch swing with a jug of lemonade on the glass table. You take Jack’s glass.

“Hey, buddy!” he says, laughing as Jack jumps from the swing and rushes across the porch to tackle his legs in a hug. “Hey, buddy,” he repeats, gentler, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“Let me go put my stuff in the safe, okay? I’ll be right back.” 

He sends you a glowing smile and heads inside. Jack runs back to the swing and uses your leg to climb onto his cushion, turning his face up to yours. You can’t decide if he looks more like Aaron or Haley. 

Haley, you think after a few seconds. Jack has eyes like hers, big and round but with thick lashes in the corners that make them seem sparkly. 

“Are you gonna tell him the secret now?” Jack whispers. 

“Yes, I am. Do you think he’ll be happy?” 

“So happy.” Jack nods. “Like me. I can’t wait to have a brother.” 

“Or sister,” you say, putting the lemonades down on the table. 

“Or sister, but I want a brother.” 

Aaron returns in time to catch it. “You can’t choose, buddy, it happens at random.” He’s ditched his suit jacket inside, rolling his sleeves to the elbow. His first port of call is to pick Jack up and hug him like he’s something fragile. He guards Jack from the sun, turning half from you, and covers the small boy’s back with his hand. “You okay?” he asks. “You had a good time? Sorry I said I’d be back yesterday, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” 

Jack laughs into his dad’s neck. “You’re back today.” 

“You missed both of my questions, bud. How are you?” Aaron asks. 

“I’m excited! Y/N’s gonna tell you a secret!” 

You grin. Aaron turns to you expectantly. “Oh yeah? And you can’t tell me?” 

“Noooo,” Jack drags out. 

Aaron manoeuvres around the table, sitting on the porch swing next to you, the hooks creaking as he settles. Jack gets comfortable on his lap, eyes flashing between you and his dad excitedly. It’s as good a place as any to tell him the news, sunshine on your faces, his hand working behind your back. 

You smile at him before you start to speak. You can tell he already knows. “I found something out this morning.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, clutching at your back. His hand can’t stay still suddenly. It’s like a massage. “You are?”

“Yeah, I think so. The test says so. I took one of those strip ones first and it was two lines, and then I took a Clear Blue and it says one to two weeks.” 

“You’re pregnant,” he says surely, his lips turned up into a line, his smile as bright as you’ve ever seen it. 

“With a baby!” Jack supplies. 

“I’m just worried it’s too early.” 

“Honey, if the test says you’re pregnant, it’s not too early. How many did you take, just two?” 

“Four.” You nod, pulse going hard in your chest, you’re that happy. 

“Four,” he says, leaning in slowly to give you time to tilt your head. You close your eyes, smiling too much to kiss back as Aaron presses a loving one to your top lip, then just below, a pressure on the seam of your lips that makes you laugh. “I think you can be confident in their accuracy, then.” 

He kisses you again, then Jack. “What do you think about that, Jack? Y/N’s pregnant! She’s gonna get a big tummy.” 

“Like Mrs. Lundy?” 

Aaron cuddles him up to his neck. “Yeah, exactly like Mrs. Lundy. Wow. What should we do to celebrate?” 

Something in his voice has changed, turning scratchy and raw. You duck your head to peer at him through the shadow of Jack’s head, flummoxed by the sudden appearance of wetness in his lashes. 

“Aaron,” you murmur. 

He nods into Jack’s hair. 

“You are happy, right?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he says, hugging Jack like he’s scared he’s gonna move away. 

You aren’t sure what he’s thinking about, if he’s happy or sad, though it’s probably both, but you know he loves you. You wrap your arm behind his head, the other around his arm where he holds Jack. “You know what four tests means?” you ask, giving his back a good rub with your knuckles. 

Aaron’s eyes blink open. He doesn’t cry, to your relief, he only leans forward to kiss you all over your closest cheek. “What does it mean?”

“It means I’m gonna have four babies, duh.” 

“Four?” Jack asks incredulously. “No way. Dad, I am not having four brothers. No way.” 

“What’s wrong with four brothers?” Aaron asks. “You’d only have to share your room with two.” 

“No way!” 

“We’re kidding, baby,” you say, taking Jack in where he sits on Aaron’s lap. You’d have been perfectly happy with just him and his father, but you’re ecstatic for another baby to bring up. Jack will make a good brother, and Aaron’s a great dad. “It’s one brother or sister. You’ll have your own room no matter what.” 

He sighs in relief that’s too big for his body. “Oh, okay. I’m excited again then.” 

Aaron gives the porch swing a rock with his leg. “Me too, buddy.” 

[lavnderwonu]

the boy next door | jeon wonwoo

pairing: idol!boyfriend!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: secret relationship, established relationship, smut

summary: sneaking around with your secret boyfriend.

warnings: smut (!!!), little plot lol, wonwoo as your secret boyfriend, softdom! wonwoo, wonwoo is hot (yes that's a warning), mirror sex (kinda?), pet names (baby), praise kink, size kink AHEM, clitoral stimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has to be quiet, hint at another round.

word count: 1.9k

author’s note!: when i tell you this concept has been on my mind for weeks... i'm not lying. the wonwoo brainrot was hitting HARD when i was writing this. i was originally going to make it a secret situationship but im a #1 hater of that whole thing so relationship it is. plus i just think it'd be hot. who wouldn't want wonu as their secret boyfriend? anyway, let me know what you think, i appreciate feedback! 🩷

click here to join my taglist!

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand as you’re in your bathroom, going through your night time routine, just like any other night. As soon as you make it to your phone, it’s stopped ringing. Unlocking it, you see a notification.

Wonwoo

Missed Call

Your boyfriend. Well, only you knew he was your boyfriend, anyway. Although you’d be lying if you never posted any “soft launches” of you two, whether it was an extra iced americano on your counter, or a very obvious mystery man driving while you sat in the passenger seat.

Before you can even call him back, he’s already texting you.

Wonwoo: are you awake? Wonwoo: i saw your story earlier. you looked nice.

You went out earlier in the day to run your usual errands, which usually consisted of shopping of some sort, then wandering around a bookstore. You threw on a cute floral mini dress, and for good measure, you promptly decided to take a picture in your full-body mirror hoping a certain someone would see.

You laugh to yourself, typing out a reply.

you liked it? well you’re too late. i’m in my pajamas now.

It was only 11:30 pm, so maybe it was a tad early for pajamas for some. But for all you know he was probably in sweats playing some game on his phone or reading a book.

Wonwoo: i don’t care, you always look pretty baby Wonwoo: come over here

He lived down the hall from you, with his roommate and best friend, Mingyu. His apartment was easy access, but pretty risky if Mingyu was there, so usually Wonwoo would just come over to yours.

You're about to ask is mingyu there? until he answers the question before you even finish typing.

Wonwoo: mingyu’s gone

You bite your lip, typing a reply. Fuck, you can’t say no.

on my way

You toss your phone on your bed, quite literally, quickly getting yourself ready, you decide to put on your favorite lavender-colored bra and matching panties underneath your pajamas you already had on. Your favorite color; and a different variation of his.

Going down the hall from your apartment, you reach his door, quickly knocking a few times before he answers.

“I thought you were joking when you said you were in pajamas,” Wonwoo jokes, examining you as you walk in. “You were serious.”

“Shut up, it was getting late.” You blush, as you damn near fight the urge to jump him, cause damn. He looks too good, even in a hoodie and sweatpants.

“You look cute,” He pulls you close to him, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to grip your waist. “Can’t wait to take them off…”

You lean into him, fingers lightly threading through his hair that’s gotten so much longer recently.

“How much time do we have?”

“Hours.” Wonwoo responds, confident. “Mingyu said he was going out with Jungkook, they’ll probably be out half the night drinking.”

His hands slowly slide up your back, sending your heart thrumming in your chest, you’re unable to deny the effect he has on you.

You both know you’d eventually have to go public with your relationship, but for now, you’d just enjoy the adrenaline rush you get everytime you’re alone together.

You make it to his bedroom, in a heated kiss, you back away to safely removing his glasses and placing them on his nightstand.

Kneeling on his bed in front of him, you quickly tug at the hoodie he has on. “Off.” You order him, and he obeys, pulling it over his head.

He tosses to the floor, before kissing you again, his hands slide up your shirt, groping your breasts lightly through your bra, making you softly moan against his lips. He breaks the kiss and his lips softly trail along the corner of your lips, to your jaw, and onward.

You begin working on unbuttoning your silky pajama shirt as Wonwoo trails wet kisses down your neck. His hands take over, effortlessly unbuttoning it. Your eyes glance over to the mirror on the wall, giving you a full view of you kneeling on his bed and him towering over you.

He slips your shirt off your shoulders, and his eyes briefly follow your gaze, realizing what you’re looking at.

“Are you watching yourself in the mirror?” Wonwoo says into your ear, giving you chills.

“Uh-huh.” Your breath shaky as you reply, nodding.

“Turn around.” He suddenly demands, kissing behind your ear before you turn around, your back now facing him.

Wonwoo wraps one arm around your torso, holding you against his sturdy chest. His hand lightly touches your chin, turning you to face the mirror again.

“Keep watching yourself, baby.”

You watch as his free hand slips underneath your pajama shorts, his fingers lightly ghosting over your clothed clit. You gasp as your hips jolt, desperately seeking out more friction.

“Wonwoo…” You gasp, gripping his arm tighter.

His hand slides underneath the elastic of your underwear, applying firm pressure as he circles your clit, before you feel his fingers slide down between your folds and he mutters a breathy fuck against your neck when he feels how wet you are already.

“You’re already dripping for me, baby.” Wonwoo says deeply, voice slightly muffled into your neck. “Couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”

He’s expecting an answer, and it’s impossibly hard now that he’s sliding two fingers inside you, expertly curling his fingers to find that special spot that you often couldn’t reach yourself.

“N-no, I couldn’t… thought about you all day.” You cry, nails digging into his forearm, and he’s seemingly unfazed by it. His fingers pound into your sweet spot, making your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Fuck, look at how pretty you look.” Wonwoo says, glancing at your reflection, your brows furrowed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“I’m so close…” You whine, turning to bury your face in his neck as you inhale the sweet scent of his cologne like you never want to forget it.

“I know, baby. You’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” Wonwoo grunts as your walls clench around his fingers. “Let it go, I got you.”

Your legs shake as you grip onto his forearm for dear life, desperate for something to hold onto. A cry of his name leaves your lips as you cum, your heart racing, panting trying to catch your breath.

“That’s my girl.” Wonwoo turns to kiss your forehead gently, his fingers slip from your dripping center, brushing your clit one last time and the friction is enough to make you wince.

He releases his hold on you, and you turn around to face him, kissing him needily. “Fuck me,” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

“So needy…” Wonwoo playfully mocks you, suddenly turning into his unintentionally adorable self, as if he didn’t just pull a powerful orgasm out of you moments ago. “Don’t I at least get to enjoy this cute little set you wore for me?” He pulls off your shirt, even though it was already damn near falling off anyway.

You blush, kissing him again.

“We don’t have time for that.” You chuckle, already feeling somewhat anxious that Mingyu is going to walk into the apartment at any second.

Wonwoo can read you like a book, and he notices right away. “Hey, there’s no rush.” He says gently, as his hands reach behind you to unhook your bra.

You slide it off the rest of the way, then toss it on the floor. “I know, I’m just enjoying this. I don’t want to be interrupted.” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you press your body against him, kissing him fervently. You moan against his lips as you feel his hard cock pressing against you.

You slide your hands down his chest, reaching to loop your fingertips into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Take these off, baby.” You whisper as you kiss his along jaw a few times, before you grope his length through them for emphasis. “Please.”

Wonwoo gently nudges you to fall back on his bed, and you sit up on your elbows, eagerly watching him as he obeys you, taking them off. “Better?” His gaze meets yours as you look him over.

You eagerly nod, lifting your hips for him as he rids you of your pajama shorts you still had on, along with your soaking wet underwear.

“How do you want it, baby?” Wonwoo huskily asks you, removing his underwear. He curses under his breath as he watches you bend your knees and spread your legs apart, allowing him full access to you.

You gasp as you feel him suddenly pull you further down on his bed, quickly followed by a whine as you feel the weight of his cock on your clit. You sit up on your elbows to see him dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

Both of you can only watch, breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo…” You whine his name, gripping the sheets beneath you as the tip of his cock bumps you clit again. You both watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing inside you.

“Look at that.” Wonwoo grunts, watching you take every inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.

“Fuck…” You throw your head back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you feel so full. “You’re too big…”

“You take me so well…look at you.” Wonwoo praises you, as his hands come up to gently stroke your inner thighs, and it’s enough to get you to relax. “You okay?”

You nod, “Yeah, you can move. Please.”

He starts to pound into you at a steady pace, making you grab onto his shoulders for something to hold onto. Your nails dig into his skin as he drives his cock into your sweet spot over and over.

You let out a sob of a moan, and Wonwoo thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“God, you sound so pretty,” He moans, “Crying for me…”

“I’m not gonna last long.” You whine, your walls already clenching around him.

Your heart nearly stops in your chest when suddenly you hear the front door to the apartment open, then hear Mingyu enter.

You gasp, and Wonwoo quickly shushes you.

“Relax, he’s not going to come in here, he probably thinks I left.” He whispers, all the while he hasn’t stopped fucking you.

“Can you be quiet?”

You can barely find the words to speak, your brain too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you.

“Answer me.”

You frantically nod, and that’s about all you can muster the strength to do. Your walls clench around him and he knows you’re close.

“Shit, I’m gonna come…” You softly moan, as quiet as you can, then you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling your cries as your walls squeeze his cock hard, but he keeps fucking you through your high.

He keeps going until he’s coming too, groaning into your neck as you feel his cock nearly throbbing as he releases inside of you.

“Fuck…” Wonwoo sighs, as you both are catching your breath. “That wasn’t how that was supposed to happen.” You both smile bashfully at each other.

You gently thread your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehand.

“That’s okay, we can sneak over to my place… we won’t have to be quiet.”

tags: @dearlyjun @cosmojinyoung

some others i couldn’t tag! 💔

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Survival costs are taking up most of the Haboub family's donations.

Please see my other promotion lists for the newest version of this post with different goals.

I am no longer focusing on promoting/updating this post. Thanks for everyone's contributions!!!

Update Aug 26: Help promote this family on Instagram. See here.

Updated: Aug 31

Member: @mohammedhaboubsblog (Mohammed Haboub)

Verification: link

Payment methods: Google Pay, credit/debit

Donation matches and drive: 50 SEK, $5 USD art raffle, 105 SEK (under cut)

Current progress:

SEK 78,861 133,838 / 130,000

I've set a short term goal of 130k SEK for rent, which is roughly $12.8k USD. This is URGENT, the family needs to make rent by early September. See post here. The actual goal is 300k SEK.

The currency may appear intimidating, but this is a small-medium evacuation goal of roughly $30k USD. I think it's achievable if we work together.

Please donate if you can and share.

Details about this campaign:

1/3 of their funds have went towards outrageously expensive rent, healthcare, and basic supplies.

Mohammed was shot in the leg.

Mohammed's twin sister was injured during the Khan Younis massacre and went through a surgery the family currently cannot afford. We paid this off!

Rent alone is 1/10 of their campaign goal and the family is struggling to afford it.

On Aug 30, we helped pay off yet another month of rent so they wouldn't get evicted!

Donations are sparse and amount to around $100 USD daily. At this rate, the Haboub family will not be able to evacuate.

Their campaign goal is reasonable: roughly $29k USD to evacuate 4 adults.

I've attached my conversation with Mohammed below. If I get more evidence, I will provide it there.

If the inability to donate with PayPal or confusion around conversion rates is holding you back from donating, I propose that you donate to my Kofi. For anything that you tip me, I will round it up to the nearest whole SEK and donate it to the Haboub family. I will publicly post the receipt. You can donate anonymously (still requires an account) and don't have to notify me of any donations on Tumblr but I would like having a record.

Am I scamming you? Who knows, I'm some random person and I have no way of proving that I'm not interested in running off with your money. But I want to do something that might help tangibly because publicity isn't enough so far. Donate to me at your own risk.

Proof:

Update Aug 29:

[ID in alt text]

Mohammed sent me his and his sister's IDs to prove his identity.

Aug 27: Donation match for 105 SEK ($10 USD)

[thatdisasterauthor]

@teagantheamazing Hope you don't mind, but I wanted to pull this reply out to talk about a little more in depth, because I think it is important that people understand this as we move forward.

Also, I am speaking as a private citizen here, not as an employee of the Forest Service.

In the United States, wildland fire response is handled at three basic levels: Federal, State, and Local.

Federally, it is further broken down into the Bureau of Land Management and the Forest Service. (Some parks have their own fire crews as well, but that varies from park to park, and they're usually still technically Forest Service.) There's really not a ton of difference between the two aside from whose name is on your paycheck. Pay is the same across each, structure is the same across each, training is the same across each. Federal crews and resources are, generally, the main and biggest responders to wildfires because wildfires tend to happen primarily on federal lands.

At the state and local level things vary a lot from state to state. You can have things like the Colorado Division of Fire Prevention and Control in Colorado and Cal Fire in California, and you can have local structure departments that also have wildland divisions and/or training. Some of the local departments will be volunteer. State and local responders also work closely with federal responders, but how much and for how long varies from fire to fire.

Then, on top of all of that, you have private/contract crews. They are what it says on the tin: private crews of firefighters. Some of these crews are great! Very professional, very skilled. Others are...ah...not.

Now, what I am concerned about specifically as we head into this new administration is what is going to happen at the federal level. As I mentioned in the original post, the Forest Service is already struggling. It has ALWAYS been struggling. Without giving you a whole huge history lesson, the Forest Service was founded in the early 1900s by Teddy Roosevelt to protect public lands and preserve them for future use. People threw a FIT about it, specifically people who wanted to basically strip mine the forests for every single available resource. Taft was elected after Roosevelt and basically started undoing everything his predecessor had done. The budget for the Forest Service was destroyed, protections were rolled back. The only reason the Forest Service survived was because in 1910 there was a MASSIVE fire. It was, at the time, unprecedented and the Forest Service was able to use it to lobby for better funding going forward. But the same cycle has repeated ever since. An administration that doesn't value conservation will come in, shred the budget, there will be deadly consequences that make the next administration pad the budget some, and then it will start again.

It's a lot like people who stop taking their medicine because they think they're cured since they feel better, but they only feel better because they were taking their medicine.

So what happens now? Well, it's already happening and it happened under Biden, and will only get worse under Trump. To keep it simple, there are two kinds of federal employment: seasonal, and year-round. Most of the federal Forest Service jobs are seasonal, because the work is seasonal. This includes firefighters, but it also includes things like park rangers and trail maintenance crews. From late spring to early fall there are tooooons of people working. Then, the rest of the year, its a skeleton crew of year-rounders doing mostly maintenance work, controlled burns, paperwork, stuff like that.

Now, with all of that said, here is where we stand at this specific moment: the decision has already been made that the Forest Service will not be hiring seasonal workers outside of firefighting next year. This means no seasonal park rangers, no seasonal maintenance people, none of that. This means next year parks are going to be a MESS. Bathrooms will not be cleaned regularly, campgrounds will not be maintained, trails will not be maintained, and a ton of other stuff. The year-rounder skeleton crew will be all we've got. And, crucially, there will be less professionals monitoring the woods looking for new fires. Rangers, even ones not working directly on fire stuff, are a crucial level of protection for spotting and reporting fires.

Secondary to that is the pay issue. Even if you're a year-rounder, the pay is abysmal. Your average out the gate, newbie wildland firefighter is going to make around $17/hr base pay if they work for a federal agency. Now, there's a ton of random stuff that can bump that pay up even without the retention bonus we're currently getting. You get a night differential and a Sunday differential for starters, and hazard pay when you are actively working a fire, plus there's ALWAYS overtime, sometimes an insane amount of it. Then there's per diem if you are traveling for a fire, and that can be a nice little bump too. But the point/problem is that the pay is VERY unpredictable. You can have a massively busy season and be swimming in money, or you can have a slow as fuck season and end up scrapping by because the base pay isn't enough. The Wildland Firefighter Paycheck Protection Act is supposed to fix this by bumping up the base pay, but that can has been kicked back and forth in the government for yeeeears now.

Now, as you mentioned, people CAN transfer their federal qualifications for fire to state and private crews. It generally pays better if you do. But we do not want to privatize fire response. Given the size of this country, given the spread of the population within it, we have to have a federal firefighting force. Leaving it to the states and private companies will not be enough.

That is where we are starting the new administration: abysmal pay, failing departments, and slimmed back hiring. Given Trump's repeated insistence on slimming down the government, on withholding aid in blue states, on getting rid of things like the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (which is also crucial for firefighting), and other things in that vein, I think we are staring down the barrel of a very, very dangerous time.

So, some action items if you want to help:

Call your local representatives and insist they pass the Wildland Firefighter Protection Act NOW, before the new administration comes in. The new administration could still screw it up, but we've gotta at least try.

Be patient and understanding with Park Rangers in the coming years. They are doing their best with what they've got.

Take responsibility for your use of public lands. Clean up after yourself, pick up litter when you see it, and donate if there is a way for you to do so.

Educate yourself and your community on wildland fire even if you don't think you are in a wildland fire prone area. Learn about and implement defensible space around your homes and communities. I'll be doing a lot of education around this going forward, so if you have questions or want help please ask me!

[javiercigsrete]

Bad idea

dbf!joel x f!reader.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

main masterlist

summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!

a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3

The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.

You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.

Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.

But that could never happen.

You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.

You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.

Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.

“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.

But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.

You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.

“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.

“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.

“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.

You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.

This is going to be a long trip.

Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.

“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.

“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.

You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.

“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.

The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.

You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.

Because that's exactly what you do.

It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.

You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.

You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.

The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.

You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.

His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.

You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.

Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.

You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.

“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.

You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.

You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.

“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.

You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”

You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.

You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”

You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.

Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.

You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.

“The hell you doin’?”

You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”

Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.

You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”

His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.

This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.

“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”

You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.

“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.

“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.

“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.

Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.

You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.

The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.

When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.

Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.

You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.

You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.

He stands leaning against the frame in silence as  his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.

“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.

“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”

“It’s just us then?”

“Mhm,” 

You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.

You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.

Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.

He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.

“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.

He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.

“Please,” 

“Please what, darlin’?”

You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”

Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”

You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.

You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.

His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.

You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.

He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.

Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.

“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.

He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.

You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.

You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.

A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.

“y– ha – yes,”

“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.

You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.

“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,” 

He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.

You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.

He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.

He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.

“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.

You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.

Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.

The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.

“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.

His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.

You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.

Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.

When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.

He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.

After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.

You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.

“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.

You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.

Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.

[orteil42]

Cookie Clicker turns 10 today! Having outlived our enemies, let us celebrate with a fresh batch of announcements!

🍪First of all, Cookie Clicker is 40% off on Steam this week! The perfect gift for your loved and/or hated ones! (the web version is still free forever but you don't get Steam achievements or music by C418!)

🍪Secondly! The mobile version has been lagging behind the browser game for years and is in dire need of an update. I've been dedicating most of my time recently to bringing its content up to par! Here's a progress report:

Compared to the current version, this update adds back 284 upgrades and 179 achievements from the web game, which leaves 83 upgrades and 94 achievements still unimplemented plus a good amount of heavenly upgrades. I am determined to close that gap!

Seasons and the pet dragon are currently partially implemented. These are complicated, compound features with side-effects in all kinds of places so once the update gets an alpha release I'll likely be needing everyone's help to hunt for bugs and oversights. I'm being as thorough as possible but there's no way I didn't forget some obscure interplay somewhere!

I'm also updating the UI! Cookie Clicker's interface makes heavy use of woodwork, which is largely absent from the mobile version; I've been aiming to bring it back. Rather than recycling desktop assets, I'm looking to push the game's visual identity towards less "plain wooden boards" and more "victorian biscuit shop" (something I'd have liked to go for when I first made the game but didn't quite know how yet). Here's some early screenshots!

I'm using Blender for the new assets, I might make a more in-depth post about my process in the future. Please note that these are experimental and I'm still fiddling with the look! Once I'm happy with it I'll ideally be giving the desktop game a similar makeover.

This update will hopefully come out later this year and will likely involve multiple rounds of alpha. Once stable, future updates will focus on adding sugar lumps and as many of the minigames as possible.

🍪Thirdly: the Makeship grandma plushie is real and we're doing a giveaway! Please read this twitter post to enter. Note that if the launch campaign succeeds we've got other plushies in mind! Maybe a wrinkler?

🍪Fourthly - there was going to be a really cool announcement here but I've been informed I'm not yet at liberty to discuss it. It's sooooo cool tho trust me. things happening. u gotta take my word for it. tune in next time

🍪Lastly:

i've got enough dough for like, idk 50 more? mom's recipe. white+dark+milk chocolate. they're very good thank you

PS. thank you for playing with us all these years! odds are some of you reading this have been here since the very start. that's mad to think about! Opti and I couldn't have done this for 10 whole years without all of you hyping us up. i want to see if we can do 10 more. get real freaky with it

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

"I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

[thesiltverses]

A very big thank you

I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:

Post-show life begins

For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.

I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.

I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)

Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.

I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline. 

I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.

All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.

There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.

Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.

So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.

What’s coming next, in rough order

#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try.  This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.

Just one last word about endings

God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.

How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well?  People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.

Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end. 

And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*). 

So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.

And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.

All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite. 

For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.

But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.

For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.

So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.

Thank you so much again, and speak soon.

Jon

*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.

[unreliablesnake]

Simon says (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: Simon doesn’t want to let you be alone when you’re drunk, so you end up at his place. After he wakes up, the two of you play a little Simon says.

Note: That little snippet became pretty popular. Thanks, guys, here’s the whole thing. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warnings: smut. afab reader. minors dni!!!

“You suck!” you slurred once you grabbed Simon’s shoulder to steady yourself.

He only let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. Things hadn’t been the best since the breakup, but he wasn’t about to leave you here on your own when you were this drunk. So he wrapped an arm around your body to keep you up straight, then began to walk towards his car.

Through the whole ride he was begging the universe not to make you throw up in the passenger seat, but you were a clever girl and knew when to make him stop the car so you would empty your stomach onto the street. He put his hand on your back, trying to calm you with a circular motion since you were cursing under your breath.

When you closed the door and signaled him it was okay to move again, Simon hesitated. “You okay?” he asked kindly. When you nodded in response, he let out a sigh and leaned his head against the headrest. “I’m not letting you stay alone tonight. Wouldn’t want you to choke on your own vomit. You’re staying at my place, okay? I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m fine,” you tried weakly before raising a hand and opening the door again for another round of vomiting. You didn’t see Simon roll his eyes at you, for which he was grateful, but he was glad to see a change in your behavior when you sat back. “Fine, let’s go.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay now?”

“Yeah.”

Simon’s lips curled into a smile as he watched you. “Can you say anything else?” he asked as he swept a strand of hair out of your face.

You made a face and he couldn’t help but laugh at it. Instead of making a comment about how weird you were whenever you got drunk, he started the car and began to drive to his place. You dozed off halfway there, and he listened to the quiet snoring as if that was the most adorable sound in the world.

Because in a way it was. When you were sober, you pushed him away. Now that you were drunk, you didn’t. He preferred this setup, he missed you every day, and keeping his distance was incredibly hard. He wanted to respect your decision to end the relationship, but despite your best effort to keep him at arm’s length, he was always drawn to you.

When he parked the car, you were still sleeping, so he decided to carry you inside instead of waking you up. You had changed your perfume. He remembered the scent of the usual one you wore when you went out, but this was certainly different. Simon didn’t like it that much, but he wondered if it was only because it told him you felt like it was time for a change after the breakup.

He took you to his bedroom, cautiously placing you on the bed then leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sleep tight, love. I’ll be outside if you need me,” he said quietly.

“Can you stay with me?” you mumbled in your sleep.

At first he thought he hadn’t heard you right, that he was just imagining things, but then you repeated it. Simon smiled to himself before lying down on the empty side of the bed next to you, an arm protectively wrapping around you immediately. You moved a little to be closer to him, your eyes still closed as you slept.

Eventually Simon fell asleep too, but his dream wasn’t free of you. He couldn’t stop thinking about what you might need to give him another chance. A friend’s advice? A big romantic gesture? Whatever it was, he was more than happy to give it to you.

In the early morning, before the sun came up, he woke up to you resting your head on his chest, while your arm was wrapped around his body. When he tried to peel you off gently, you just tightened your grip on him. “Stay,” you asked him. How could he say no to that? So he kissed your head and watched you sleeping comfortably, but he was soon reminded that you were slowly waking up. “Creep,” you noted with the hint of a smile.

Letting out a quiet chuckle, Simon raised your hand and placed a kiss on its back. “You should make up your mind. One moment you want me to stay, the next you call me a creep,” he scolded you.

“Why did I let you go?” you suddenly asked, your chin now on his chest so you could look him in the eye.

“That’s something only you can answer. You never really gave me an explanation,” Simon pointed out.

You let out a sigh. He could tell you were thinking hard about the reason, but couldn’t really find what it was. Before speaking up again, you kissed his chest and tightened your grip around his body. “I was an idiot.”

Simon had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from agreeing, too afraid a comment like that would push you away again. When he felt your hand slowly moving down his body, heading straight under his sweatpants, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should let you do this. He didn’t want to cross a line, he didn’t want to use you in any way, even if it was you who made a move on him.

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely. As you reached into his pants and grabbed his semi-erect cock, Simon gulped. God, he wanted you so badly, it was torture. But he needed to know if you meant it, so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Let’s play ‘Simon says’, love. How does that sound? Just like in the old days.”

“But you’re so mean when we play that,” you said with a pout when he pulled your hand away from his pants.

“Simon says kiss me,” he began with a smirk.

With a short giggle you did as you were told, giving him a slow, sensual kiss that he missed so much. Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, eventually slipping his fingers into your hair to grab a fistful of it. You moaned into his mouth, but never broke the kiss. He loved that; he loved it when you acted like a little kitten, sounding almost like you were purring while you kissed him.

After he kissed the tip of your nose, he looked you in the eye and waited to see if you wanted to say anything. But you knew the rules. No talking while you played this game. “Good girl.” He swept a strand of hair behind your ear, then said, “Simon says slowly take your clothes off.”

A small, wicked smirk crept on your lips as you stood up on the bed and sensually began to shake your hips, as if you were swaying to a song only you could hear. He sat up and leaned his head against the wall while he watched you slowly take your shirt off. You threw it away and reached back to unclip your bra, but instead of quickly removing it, you cupped your breasts and pushed them together for a moment.

Simon couldn’t behave, and he flashed a smile at you before he groped his cock through his pants. You pouted, clearly unhappy that he didn’t want you to help him with that. But he wasn’t about to let you handle it, instead he motioned you to finally get rid of that bra. Being the good girl you were, you did just that, and then moved on to your jeans which you unbuttoned and slowly pushed off of yourself along with your panties.

He drew in a sharp breath. “I wanted to take those panties off of you,” he complained, earning a surprised look from you. “It’s okay, I didn’t tell you. Come here, baby.” He opened his arms, but you didn’t move. “Look at my vigilant girl,” he laughed. “Simon says help me out of my pants.”

This time you moved and got his sweatpants off. Simon could tell drool was already pooling in your mouth as you watched his now fully erect cock fall on his stomach. You had always been like that, clearly nothing changed in the past few months. You kneeled next to him on the bed, sitting on your heels with your hands resting on your thighs. Weren’t you an obedient little girl for him?

“Simon says answer me this. Are you one hundred percent sure you want this?” You gulped and nodded. You looked certain and sober, so he gave himself the green light to go on. “Simon says give me a blowjob,” he finally gave you the order.

Your face lit up like a Christmas tree, and you lowered your body to run your tongue along his shaft. His cock twitched in your hand, his excitement slowly getting the best of him. When he felt your soft lips around the head, he tangled his fingers into the hair on the back of your head and followed your movements without being too rough with you. There will be a moment when he can push you down on his cock, but now he just wanted you to get used to his size again.

You took him in your mouth, trying to take more and more in, while your hand twisted and turned around the base as you gently began pumping. He could see the satisfied little smile on your lips when he let out a deep moan and you let his cock fall out of your mouth with a loud pop.

He enjoyed it more than ever before. Maybe it was the months that had passed since the last time you’ve been together, but it was heavenly to have you like this again. He gently smacked your ass which drew a moan out of you. It wasn’t enough to stop you though, because you picked up your pace and began to let the tip get closer and closer to the back of your throat.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re too good for me,” he said quietly, earning a side glance from you. “It’s okay, keep going.” He knew what was on your mind. You had always told him you were just right for him, that he shouldn’t belittle himself. He told you about his past before, so no wonder you became so protective of him. You’d always been like that; worrying more about others than yourself.

Simon was pulled back to reality when he heard you gag, but that sound only made him push your head down a little more. He knew he was close, he could feel the orgasm building up in his core, so he pulled you off his cock and told you to speed things up and don’t waste your town deepthroating him. Being the good girl you were, you followed his instructions and he soon came into your mouth. You swallowed every drop and then even licked him clean without being told to do so.

“C’mere, baby,” he told you, and you immediately moved over to kiss him. Simon let you, he took his time enjoying the kiss, but then you broke it and leaned back and put your hand in front of your mouth. “That’s right, you screwed up.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered guiltily.

“It’s okay,” he began as he rubbed your back. “But that means playtime’s over. You know the rules.”

You threw your leg over his body to straddle him, his cock touching your ass as you leaned down to l. “Come on, Simon, I know you want this. Let’s see how fast you can make me come,” you purred in his ear before playfully biting his earlobe.

He just shook his head at this. “Maybe it’s better this way. I’m not entirely sure those few hours were enough for you to sober up.”

“Please,” you began to beg.

But he only laughed at this. “You still have your hands, love, if you’re really that desperate for an orgasm, you could just as well give me a show,” he suggested.

“Can I borrow your fingers?”

“No.”

“Then it’s not good enough,” you said with a pout before lying down next to him.

He pulled you closer and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “I still love you. If you’re willing to give our relationship another chance, I promise I’ll make you come so many times you’ll be begging me to stop,” he told you, earning a stupid little giggle from you. “You don’t believe me?”

You turned on your side to look at him. “It’s the opposite. I vividly remember that happening before. So another chance, huh? Let’s see if you can do it again, big boy,” you said with a laugh.

[tarre-was-right]

ROUND TWO: MATCH-UP TWO

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!

New Propaganda

Anon: My propaganda for Bo-Katan vs Cody specifically: Bo-Katan quite literally spends her whole life trying to restore Mandalore. She works hard and tries to right her wrongs, and she does in the end. She wants what's best for Mandalore, even if it comes at a cost (she was willing to trade the Darksaber in for Mandalore's safety!!!). - Meanwhile Cody is not even a Mandalorian.

Bo-Katan Kryze

Anon: Bo-Katan propaganda: she babysat a Jedi child without the child dying or killing anyone and leading a planet is basically just babysitting a child on a big scale right

Anon: Bo-Katan spent like three years as a terrorist but she also spent 30 years rebelling against fascists so idk I'm willing to hear her out on this. Welcome back Princess Leia 👏

Anon: As Satine's sister, she would have received much the same early training and education in how to rule their Duchy on Kalevala, as she alluded to in her comments in The Mandalorian - while her involvement in Death Watch is perhaps not a mark in her favor, she did seemingly have many years of experience working as Pre Vizsla's lieutenant, and earned the trust of many of his followers who defected to follow her following Pre's death and Maul's claiming of the Darksaber and throne of Mandalore, forming the bulk of her fighting force during her efforts to reclaim that throne during the Siege of Mandalore - during the Rebels timeline, she has lost the throne once again due to an Imperial-backed coup, but seems to have been working to resist the Empire's rule; during this time, she is chosen to be the figurehead and rallying point of that apparently unsuccessful effort - finally, during the time of The Mandalorian, she has been rallying the surviving clans to reclaim the Darksaber as a stepping stone for reuniting their people; after her work with Din Djarin and the Armorer, she once again is selected by her people to be their leader as they work to rebuild their reclaimed home planet

Anon: Bo-Katan should be the Mand'alor because, while having done a LOT of shit, she tried her best to free Mandalore from the Empire and to give her people the safety they lost when the New Mandalorian Government fell - She worked to redeem herself, and she got back up every time she fell. She united the people of Mandalore from every aspect and kept the warrior traditions alive

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Literally the only reason I can think of for Bo-Katan to rule is that she’s stubborn. She doesn’t stop trying to get Mandalorians organized and on their homeworld. Kinda a Robert the Bruce and a spider in a cave style parable, except instead of the English she’s trying to fight her own bad actions/behavior towards others

Anon: Bo-Katan propaganda: you know that quote about "It's hard for a good man to be king?" Well considering she's a terrible person she'd actually be pretty good at ruling Mandalore.

COMMANDER CODY

Anon: Propaganda for Commander Cody: - Cody was a student of Alpha-17, who in turn had been personally trained by former Mand'alor Jango Fett, giving him a strong training lineage claim to the title - Cody's service as Marshall Commander in the GAR gave him a lot of the diplomatic, organizational, and military experience needed to govern a planet like Mandalore

@spacetime1969: This man has led more people at once than anyone on this list.

Anon: Cody should be Mand'alor because it would be unspeakably sexy

@cha0s-cat: Cody has experience with negotiating from accompanying Obi-Wan, he leads a massive amount of his brothers already. Can recognize when there is a need for negotiations vs a need for violence. This would balance out the majority of the two factions (pacifists/traditionalists) excluding the extremists on either end. And with the amount of chaos that he has to deal with when it comes to Obi-Wan and Anakin, this would probably be relaxing.

@skykind: - Has resisted fascism and its attendant police/military state at great personal risk (Bad Batch 2.3), which is apparently necessary to successfully govern Mandalore so long as Death Watch is fully armed and also backed by someone more cunning than their usual leadership (Clone Wars 5.15). - Possesses exceptional leadership and organizational ability from his time as one of the highest-ranked Clone officers of the GAR. The Clone Wars and Bad Batch narratives furthermore present him as Obi-Wan’s peer, so he should be interpreted as equally skilled, wise, kind, and unhinged-in-battle as Obi-Wan. Jury’s out on the sarcasm. - Turns to diplomacy before fighting (Bad Batch 2.3). - Has caught a Jedi’s lightsaber mid-battle at least two times (Clone Wars 1.20 and Revenge of the Sith). This is a very useful skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who keep chucking the darksaber about. - Has returned a lightsaber to a Jedi at least two times. This is a crucial skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who should stop selecting said leader via darksaber acquisition.

@antianakin: [From the Boba vs Cody poll] So in a very practical sense, if I'm just looking at it with the question of "Who actually has the skills to be a good leader of people" [between Boba and Cody] then the answer is undoubtedly Cody. Cody was trained his entire life presumably to be a Commander in a large army and seems to do that very successfully for three years. He seems fairly humble, has good teamwork skills, he's kind and understanding and merciful, and he's a very skilled fighter. All of this would serve him exceedingly well if he chose to take on a leadership position, on Mandalore or otherwise. - The one downside to Cody is that Cody shows exactly zero interest in Mandalore at all. Cody does not identify as a Mandalorian at any point and never seems like he'd want to, let alone LEAD the Mandalorians. I do not personally see Cody actually being WILLING to lead Mandalore if offered the opportunity, even if he'd definitely have the skills to do so. I feel like if it were offered to him or fell into his lap somehow, he'd just pass it off immediately to the next most qualified person who was interested in it. Mandalore is not his problem or his responsibility and he's not about to change that.

[starlostseungmin]

husband!han

✰ notes: posting this a day early since i’ll be out of town please enjoy <33 not proofread. REBLOGGING, COMMENTS AND LEAVING TAGS are highly appreciated! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin （ han ）changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Han who asked the baker and chef to put the ring inside the cake. You thought it was kind of old school and yet you cried when you saw the ring. He went down on one knee in front of the crowd as the waiter/waitresses came for assistance. “Will you be the mother of Bbama?” “Yes!” 

Husband Han who wrote a song that he’d use on the day of his wedding proposal. The lyrics consist of words about his feelings, how deep his love is for you, how thankful he is, and how you are his favorite person apart from his Minho hyung. He went on the small stage of the restaurant and grabbed a small piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget what he had written. 

Husband Han whom you can order around. He complains but still does whatever you ask for. Sometimes he just obeys quietly or if he’s in the mood, he looks like a kid who’s happy to help his parents with that adorable and proud smile plastered on his face.

Husband Han who loves to stay home and watch your favorite movies then proceeds to cuddle you all day. He also buys things that will serve good for your convenience and cause less effort. He is a home buddy for a reason. 

Husband Han who is happy as a clam when you visit him while he’s at work especially when you bring him and his members with a ton of food.

Husband Han who is a loud introvert and hits high notes effortlessly on a random Wednesday morning. 

Husband Han who overreacts, and screams at any small inconvenience when he gets a chance. Hyunjin would be the one to cover his mouth because his ears suffer the most. 

Husband Han who has a lot of feelings and takes everything to heart (playfully) during a nonsense argument and will say some things nonstop until both of you just laugh them off. Yet also the type to be calm and straightforward that would pierce your heart if it’s serious especially when he does have a point. 

Husband Han who sometimes doesn’t listen to you and is stubborn. 

Husband Han who apologizes hours later after thoroughly thinking of what he did or said wrong during the fight. He would hug you tightly when he sees you crying and say “I love you” instead of  “I’m sorry.”

Husband Han who listens attentively to your worries and gives you useful advice. If he feels like you don’t want to hear anything and just sit there in silence, he will hold your hand or bring you into his arms while kissing the crown of your head. 

Husband Han whose love languages are physical touch, quality time, and words of affirmation (through the songs he wrote). 

Husband Han who gets jealous when you pay too much attention to BBama instead of him. He would sulk at the corner and refuse to talk unless you baby him until he decides to forgive you. 

Husband Han who gets sentimental when sad so you let him lay on you and bury his face on your neck while you hum his favorite tune or just play with his hair while whispering some things that he needs to hear. He loves it when you do that. 

Husband Han who loves cheesecakes especially when you’re the one who made them. He’d devour them immediately with some iced coffee he got from Seungmin.

Husband Han who gets round when he eats something or just mainly his cheeks are the cutest that you want to kiss, pinch, or suddenly goes nom nom nom. 

Husband Han who doesn’t mind you wearing his clothes. He loves them on you. 

Husband Han whose voice you want to listen to all night after a long day because it’s soothing to hear and brings you comfort, especially when he is talking softly and in a gentle manner. 

Husband Han who gets undeniably shy when you kiss him, especially when you’re in public. He is all giddy and a blushing mess, expect to make out with him when you get home.

Husband Han who can sleep everywhere that you get jealous but he would ask you first if you want to cuddle until you fall asleep in whatever comfortable place you’re at. 

Husband Han who texts or calls you before going home from work just to ask how your day went and if you want him to buy something. Sometimes you do it the other way around. It’s a must in this marriage. 

Husband Han who spoils you a lot. 

Husband Han who respects whatever decision you make, especially when it comes to the thought of having kids. Just like anyone else, he doesn’t pressure you and wait until you’re the first one to initiate the topic. 

Husband Han who promised to love you and never leave until death do you part.

Husband Han who thinks that having you in his life is the greatest gift he could ever have and the best thing that ever happened. 

Husband Han whom you love, protect, and spend the rest of your life with along with Bbama. 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[beezhives]

"I need chocolate."

"yeah, good afternoon to you too, Dynamight," are the groggily mumbled words the pro hero receives from you on the other side of your door.

grumbling, strong arms folding over his chest impatiently, Bakugou Katsuki huffs out a greeting more normal that your brain can register, followed by, "I need chocolate."

sometimes, being the neighbor of a pro hero has its perks. late nights locked out of your own apartment, help fixing random appliances, and (in the case of Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight) unsolicited cooking tips when you just happen to let slip what you're making for dinner that night.

other times, like right now, you're awoken to harsh knocking on your front door at three-something in the afternoon when you just wanted to sleep. all because the damn man wanted... chocolate?

"what the fuck are you staring for? d'ya have chocolate or not, dumbass?"

opening your door fully, a silent invitation for the pro hero to walk in, you pad back through your dark apartment towards your kitchen. "it's too early for this confusion, man..."

Bakugou did not understand what was so confusing about chocolate but he stepped into your apartment anyways, shutting the door behind him and flicking on the light. having an apartment with the same layout as his helped sometimes.

"none of that white or dark chocolate bullshit," he called through the apartment, leaning back against the door. "plain fuckin' chocolate's what I need!"

after rifling through your pantry for a few minutes, setting aside a variety of chocolate bullshit for yourself to eat later, you returned with a small bowl of baking chocolate for the brooding blond in your entryway.

"what has you needing chocolate so urgently?" you ask, handing the bowl over to the man who grumbles while inspecting the selection.

"making shit for Sparky's thing later," he replies, huffing a small breath of satisfaction through his nose. the chocolate you found would work for him.

"cool." leaning around him, you open your front door and motion the pro hero out of your apartment. "next time you need baking chocolate, go to konbini down the street instead of waking me up, yeah?"

Bakugou rolls his eyes, scoffing, as he exits your apartment. he's holding the bowl against his chest like he would a child, hands already warming the chocolate so it can melt sooner.

"yeah but this shit's free," is his reply, offering you a shit-eating grin before turning around and making his way back to his own apartment.

it's then, in the light of the hallway outside your apartment, that you realize there's something green and orange – icing, you assume – smeared on his clothes. you can't help but roll your eyes, both at his comment and the colourful stains, while you close your door.

later, much much later, there is a singular knock on your door. expecting the odd trick-or-treater, maybe a teen or college student who was making a last ditch effort through your complex, you make your way to the door with your bowl of treats to hand out.

what you were not expecting was to see a treat left on your welcome mat. black container with a webbing design on it. your name was scribbled onto a post-it place on top.

inside the container sat a set of perfectly rounded chocolate cake eyeballs, clearly fake and clearly made with care. each one appeared to be made with skilled hands.

and, upon trying them, you could've sworn that they tasted of your own baking chocolate.

♡ late Halloween post. oops. any likes or shares would be appreciated. thank you for reading, see you later. ☁︎