#we have clothes in the US! you know what we don't have?

[peppermintquartz]

Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"

On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.

Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.

He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.

Tommy.

Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.

Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving

As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.

Tommy: don't know why I texted that

Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you

Tommy: you don't have to reply

Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays

Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.

Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too

Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3

Tommy: you're working today?

Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard

They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.

Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything

Buck: it's better to keep busy

Tommy: I know that feeling

Tommy: I'm sorry

Buck: I'm sorry too

Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together

Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you

Tommy: I would have said that too

Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you

Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?

Buck: I don't think you know me well enough

Tommy: sorry

Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.

He takes a deep breath. Then he types.

Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?

Tommy: is that a good idea

Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.

Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.

Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.

It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.

He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.

Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift

Tommy: are you off on Monday

The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.

Buck: yes

Buck: your place this time

Buck: I'll bring cake

Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door

Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet

Buck: I'm really thankful you texted

Tommy: I'm thankful you replied

Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan

It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

What's more is, I'm not sure about anyone else, but my school started enforcing this in 6th grade. I mean enforce.

Beginning in the 6th grade, history class required us every Friday to bring in some news article of a current event, and we began our classes with each student presenting a summary of their event.

Our English class required us to write a periodical weekly on a current event.

Our science teacher required every student to bring in articles each week regarding scientific current events, whether about disease, discovery, developments, etc.

If there was a huge event happening, our teachers loaded the live stream on every classroom computer but kept it silent, just so we could watch as we learned.

And every teacher repeatedly told us, especially our history teacher, it was our responsibility as US citizens to keep up with the worldwide news. No exception. He forced it down our throats that we had to morally throw ourselves into the worldwide happenings daily and that we should all watch multiple news sources. Our English teacher did the same.

And for every single year following until graduation, it was enforced in our curriculum to keep up with worldwide news without any exception unless we wanted to fail and repeat the year since the majority of our grades relied on the homework which, again, was always based on current events.

That fucking term. "Current events". It sickens me. It's legitimately traumatic.

Because you know what happened to every single student in my school by junior year?

We were depressed as fuck without reprieve, unable to even focus in class with half the kids falling asleep at their desks, no one was happy, and literally all of us hated our lives. Many were admitted to mental hospitals for anxiety and depression issues, and it wasn't unusual to see someone gone for days or weeks at a time and for others to forget about them existing entirely because it's a very small school with less than 1,000 kids and you just let shit slide there. And that missing kid was always in a mental health crisis of some sort.

As an adult who's been out of school for 7 years now, I'm trying my damnedest to break the habit of burying myself in the news that my school enforced.

I don't know what's going on at all anymore. I don't pay attention because I need to focus on myself, my health physically and mentally, I need to take care of my sick mother and my father who is getting a hip replacement next month, I have to work and pay off my car repair, I have a life to fucking live.

And that life is not obligated to impart itself entirely unto the worldly events that drain my will to live and cause nothing but depression, despair, and immense sorrow.

People have called me selfish for this. They've called me careless and ignorant, said I'm looking at the world through rose colored lenses.

But you know what isn't selfish? Helping my homeless friend by cooking her meals and offering a place to stay. Translating Spanish to English at the store for customers and workers who don't understand each other even though I don't work there I'm just shopping. Standing by my best friend whose dog just passed tragically from cancer this week. Helping my neighbors clean the fallen branches in their yards because they're elderly and can't do that. Stopping when I see a car broken down to ask if they need a cable jump or tools for repair.

The point is there are countless other ways to be morally and ethically good that aren't dependent on burnout and enthralling yourself in world news. There are ways to help that don't require money and donations, too. I'm disabled on very limited income, and I still do my part without being able to donate.

Give your neighbor a hand. Help that stranger with their car. Give some food to the homeless. Put your old books in the little free library. Be genuinely kind and understanding to folks you come across whether daily or just once in a lifetime. Donate clothes you dislike or no longer wear to the local foundations and drives.

But for fucks sake, stop burning yourselves to the point you're melted wax in the glass jar with no wick to reignite you.

the social norm of “its your ethical responsibility to be constantly aware of, and angry about, every bad thing happening in the world at all times, even if you can’t possibly do anything about it” is possibly the best way I can imagine to create burnout and cynicism and depression in a population, so good job guys

[sugdenlovesdingle]

If you’re still taking prompts, Tommy spending time with Maddie?

Oh I like this!

----

"At least this time it was planned." Maddie offered

"Yeah... And the nurse did say everything is going according to plan earlier."

"But you still worry."

"Yeah." Tommy chuckled. "I convinced him to get it done now so he'd be back on his feet by the time the little one starts walking."

Maddie smiled and rubbed her pregnant belly.

"Yeah I think he is looking forward to meeting his family. He's about to walk right out of there in a minute. Jee wasn't this restless."

"I guess he takes after his father then. I've never known Howie to be calm and relaxed." Tommy commented "Well... off the clock at least." he added after a beat and they both laughed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking bad hospital coffee and Tommy's eyes fixed on the door.

"What about you two?" Maddie asked.

"Hmm?"

Tommy reluctantly tore his eyes away from the door and looked at her.

"One of these." she gestured at her belly.

"I don't think either of us is at risk of getting pregnant any time soon." Tommy deadpanned and laughed when Maddie slapped his bicep.

"You know what I mean. Am I going to be an aunt any time soon?"

Tommy sat up straighter and played with the lid of his coffee cup.

"We've talked about it. Marriage, kids... the whole nine yards... and we want the same things..."

"But..." Maddie prompted.

"But... not just yet." Tommy shook his head. "We've only been back together about six months. And the last time we rushed into things it didn't go so well. So one step at a time for now."

"Isn't he moving in with you when he's discharged?"

"Yeah but that's because he's going to need a lot of help. Especially the first few months. And those stairs in the loft are lethal."

"He managed before..."

"Maybe. But he doesn't have to anymore now. I have a bedroom and a bathroom on the ground floor at my place and the stairs aren't so damn steep, he can easily manage them with crutches if needed."

Suddenly the door opened and one of the doctors walked up to them.

"Evan Buckley's family?"

Tommy was on his feet in seconds.

"That's right. How is he?"

The doctor gave him a tired smile.

"The operation was a success. No complications. Straight out of the medical text books."

"So he's ok?"

"He has a long road to recovery ahead of him, but I don't see why he shouldn't make a full recovery in due time." The doctor told them. "He'll still be asleep for a while, but one of the nurses will come get you when they've gotten him settled back in, in his room and you can sit with him."

Tommy let out a sigh of relief while Maddie thanked the doctor before they left the two of them to it again.

"He's ok." Maddie said, slipping her arm through Tommy's. "He's ok."

About ten minutes later a nurse came to get them and took them to Buck's room. He was still fast asleep but apart from a pulse oximeter on his finger and a cast on his leg, he looked just like he would on a regular day at home.

Tommy sat down next to the bed and softly brushed the curls off his forehead, while Maddie sat down on the other side and held Buck's hand in hers.

"You know he always hated that?"

"Hated what?"

"His curls. People playing with them." Maddie explained. "I used to do it when he was little but when he got old enough to pick his own hairstyle, the curls were gone and everyone was forbidden to touch his hair. I think I still have some pictures of when he gave himself a haircut when he was about 12 or 13."

Tommy grinned.

"If you can still find them, I'd love to see them."

"I'll get Howie to look for them." Maddie promised. "But what I'm trying to say is... he's changed since he met you. For the better."

"I did tell him I liked the curls once... He hadn't had time to get a haircut in a while and his hair was getting longer and the curls just made him look... soft." Tommy smiled, running his hands through Buck's hair.

Maddie smiled.

"Not just the hairstyle. Or wearing clothes in his actual size instead of at least two sizes too small." She laughed. "But he's... more comfortable in his own skin. He's content. Happy in a way I've never seen him before. And that's down to you."

"I don't know about that..." Tommy ducked his head.

"I do." Maddie insisted. "You're good for him. You're good for each other."

Buck began to stir and groaned as he opened his eyes. He rolled his head to the side and smiled when he saw Tommy.

"Hey you." Tommy said and got up to press a kiss to the top of his head. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

"Hmokay... better when the room stops spinning... and there's only one of you. is my leg still there?" he reached out to touch his leg and then realised someone was holding his hand. He turned his head and saw his sister. "Maddie!" he said happily, like he hadn't seen her in years.

"Hi." she giggled and squeezed his hand. "They've got you on the good stuff, huh."

"They fixed my leg." he explained. "Tommy said I should do it now. For the baby." He frowned. "Not our baby." He turned his head back to the other side to look at Tommy. "You're not having a baby... right?"

Tommy bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

"No, no I'm not. But your sister is."

Buck turned back to Maddie.

"You're having a baby?" he asked, and then noticed her pregnant belly. "You're having a baby! Wait... i-is that Tommy's baby?"

"What? No!" Maddie said and both her and Tommy burst out laughing. "I don't think I'm really his type."

"Yeah, sorry, I prefer the other Buckley." Tommy said laughingly.

Buck frowned.

"Who?"

"You." Tommy told him and softly kissed him. "I'm going to get a nurse. Let them know you're awake. I'll be right back." He got up and left the room with Buck looking at him with a dopey smile that wasn't just the anaesthetic.

"I love him." Buck declared, still looking at the door.

Maddie smiled and gave his hand another squeeze.

"I know. He loves you too."

"Yeah? Yeah!" Buck replied answering his own question. "I'm going to marry him. I have a ring." he said, just as Tommy came back in with a nurse.

"Hello mister Buckley, glad to see you awake." the nurse told him as she quickly checked him over. "The operation went well, and you should be able to go home in a few days."

Buck nodded and turned to Maddie.

"You need to call Eddie for me. He has the ring. I need it... for Tommy. I'm going to marry him."

"I'll call him." Maddie promised. sharing a look with Tommy over the bed.

"Good. I'm just... sleep..." Buck mumbled as he started to drift off again.

"He probably won't remember this conversation when he wakes up again." the nurse told them. "I'm guessing you're Eddie?" she asked Tommy who shook his head.

"I'm Tommy. And I guess I better start working on my surprised face."

---

send me a prompt and I'll write you a fic(let)!

[miioouu]

Ghost's New Neighbour pt2

I wasn’t planning on making a second part of this, but since you all like it and asked for it, here we go, i guess. Tw: Smut, Oral (male receiving), no gender used for reader (but a little feminine?), mean Ghost (sorry, i tried many times to write a sweet simon fic but i just can’t!!) Wc: 842 

“Come over later, 8:30 pm sharp, I don't appreciate tardiness” His words ring in your ears, distracting you from your tasks. How are you supposed to focus on putting your plates away when you can still feel the ghost of his lips against your skin? 

You know it’s a bad idea; first of all, he’s your neighbour, it’ll be awkward later on, you’ll definitely regret it, and what if the word comes out; do you really want to be known as the building’s resident slut? Second of all, he’s a stranger, you don’t know anything about him. Even the doorbell doesn’t have his name on it, paper white without even an initial or anything to give you a clue about this mysterious man. You’ll regret it, you definitely will. 

So why are you smoothing down your clothes? Rechecking your lipstick for the nth time? Why are your fingers hovering above this damn ringer, throwing all morals away?

It’s 8:30 sharp when the ding echoes in his rather empty apartment; he chuckles, part of him certain that you’d come over, the other held hope that you’d be a little wiser than this, a little more modest than this; but you weren’t, of course not, else you wouldn’t have let you touch him like he did in the elevator, wouldn’t have shivered when his words tickled your ear, wouldn’t have gotten wet at the feather-like brushing of his cock against your ass. No dignity, he thinks as he lazily makes his way over to open the door for you, internally laughing at the sight of you making yourself all pretty for him, what a nice shade of lipstick. 

He liked it so much, that pinkish tone that made you look a little more glowy, a little more flushed, not that you needed that enhanced. He liked it so much on your lips, and even more when it left a mark around his shaft. Honestly you don’t remember how you got here; one moment you were shuffling in his doorway, struggling to greet him without stuttering, the next you were in the middle of his living room, on your knees, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth languidly. His hands find your hair, guiding you back and forth around his length, setting a slow pace at first, wanting to relish in the feeling of your warm mouth, the tightness of your throat constricting as you gag whenever he pushes a little too deep. 

But Simon was never a patient man, sure he learned how to dismiss his frustration on the field, learned how to manipulate himself into being more forbearing, but he will not use those tricks now, not when he has bright, glossy eyes looking at him, begging him to use their mouth. Who was he to deny them anyway? He thought about warning you, but where’s the fun in that, right? In a swift motion, he pulls you closer until your nose nuzzles against his pelvic, his pubes tickling you but you don’t have time to adjust because he’s already pistoning his cock in and out your warm cave. He lets out a groan, his head falls back as he feels your nails dig in his thighs, holding onto him like a lifeline, creating bloody crescents on his skin, just some other scars to add to his collection. 

The once always empty, always eerily silent apartment, now feels suffocating, loud with groans and hisses from the tall man, mixed with your gagging echoing through the room. “Slut” that whispered word is what broke the chaotic symphony. Your pride is telling you to pull away, glare at him and defend your honor, but you can’t do that; not with his hands clutching at your hair and keeping you in place as he fucks your mouth, not when your thighs are pressing together, imagining, knowing, just how soaked the pretty panties you were wearing became.  

You can feel him getting closer to the edge with the way his thrusts became messier and more erratic, with the way his grip on your hair keeps tightening and getting loose over and over again, with the way his eyes are fluttering, cheeks are getting redder and his chest is heaving, letting out mumbled curses under his breath. “Fuck…come on make me cum, pretty girl” The demand alone made your thighs clench, a whimper escaped you, vibrating around him and sending goosebumps all over his body “Fuckin’ slut” he groans, accent heavy, as he finally stills, reaching deep as he releases ropes of hot, sticky liquid, painting your throat white. 

You’d think this was only the beginning, the way his hand loosens around your hair, massaging your scalp where he was pulling too hard, making you melt and whimper, heart skipping a beat at his gentleness, only to be broken the moment he pushes you back, adjusting his sweatpants properly before turning away. “Tomorrow at the same time, don’t be late. Now leave my house, it’s not the place for a desperate whore like you.”

Tag List: @blkmtllvr @curtaindiver4000 @moozinomoto

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 4

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

A weariness clung to his body, one he couldn’t quite explain beyond being so utterly drained that even taking a shower felt like a monumental effort.

With a weary sigh, he pushed himself up from where he’d been slouched against the desk and slowly blew out the candles scattered around the office. Darkness didn’t bother him. He was used to it—had spent years orienting himself in the black void of the underground. The faint moonlight spilling through the window was more than enough. Compared to those shadowed depths, this was child’s play.

That night, the moon seemed unusually bright. His tired gaze drifted to the large arched window behind his desk. Waxing moon… or was it full already?

‘Don’t they say some bullshit about omegas going into heat during the full moon?’

He scoffed. “Urban myth,” he muttered. It sounded like something out of a witch’s tale. But, come to think of it, wasn’t she supposed to be in season?

The stack of paperwork on his desk taunted him with the reminder that he’d probably have to pull an all-nighter. The thought made his jaw clench. After everything that had happened that day, he muttered a curt, “Fuck it,” and extinguished the last candle. The room plunged into shadow as he dragged himself toward the bathroom.

But then his attention snagged on the slightly ajar door leading to his bedroom. It wasn’t wide open, but it wasn’t shut either—a hesitation in its placement that mirrored her presence in his life. Maybe she didn’t feel she had the right to close it entirely. Or perhaps she didn’t want to invite him in.

Levi wasn’t sure what possessed him to check. Maybe he wanted to ensure she was asleep. Maybe it was just an excuse, though he hated the idea of coming off as some kind of creep.

The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the sound of his footsteps. His sharp ears picked up no stirring from the other side of the door. She was asleep—curled into a small ball beneath the blankets. Her face was peaceful, framed by a tangle of hair splayed across the pillow.

‘She looks young,’ he thought absently, then corrected himself: Younger.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and tore his gaze away. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered, retreating into the safety of the bathroom.

As he stripped off his clothes, a faint scent clung to the fabric. It wasn’t unpleasant—not even close—but it was strong enough to make his body react in a way he resented.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, frowning deeply. “It’s not my fault,” he groaned, trying to shake the thought from his head. She wasn’t in heat, after all. If she had been, he’d already be climbing the walls. He grimaced at the thought of what that would’ve meant—both a curse and a convenience. Her hormones would have made her eager, desperate even, and he… well, he wouldn’t have had the luxury to hesitate. Instinct would’ve taken over, and by now, it would all be over—messy, but over.

But she wasn’t in heat, and that was both a blessing and a complication. On one hand, it spared them both the humiliation of fumbling through something neither of them wanted. On the other hand, he was standing half-naked in his bathroom, trying to keep his thoughts clean while the girl he barely knew slept just a room away.

‘It’s like jerking off to the thought of a coworker,’ he thought with disgust. ‘Not illegal, but it feels like it.’

He needed a clear head—desperately. Most of his squad had gone through their ruts recently, their youth amplifying every primal urge. She smelled too good for a group of young, horny alphas to ignore. A cold shower might’ve been the smart choice, but the chill of the rain earlier still clung to his skin, and he just wanted to collapse into bed.

His bed wasn’t an option, though—not tonight. Instead, he grabbed a pillow from the couch in the corner of his office. He propped it against the armrest and sank down, throwing a thin gray blanket over himself. His head rested against his arm, and his other hand lazily scratched at his stomach, the hem of his shirt riding up. The dim glow of the moonlight played across the room, and he stared at the ceiling, eyes heavy but his mind restless.

“What the hell am I going to do,” he murmured to himself.

The sharpness of his fags could be perceived by his tongue that, under the foreign texture couldn’t stop feeling it. That, the thickness of his saliva and the clear feeling that his loose pants were perhaps a bit tight. It was obvious, she smelled too good, his own nature being highlighted by the time of the year and, in particular, the lack of exposure. Frowning and sighing loudly, he rolled over to a side searching for a position comfortable enough for him to fall asleep into.

Sleep came eventually. For Levi, sleeping on a couch with a makeshift pillow and a mission-worn blanket was a luxury compared to the alternatives. For once, exhaustion was kind.

On the other side of the room, her mind kept replaying the scene.

“Die. Just go. You’re making this harder for me,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the small French balcony of the borrowed household. The late-night air was cold against her skin as she stared down at the street below. It was late, the streets below barely lit, and her eyes darted nervously toward the door of her room before returning to the darkness beyond.

The young man standing below, dark-haired with striking gold eyes, still wore his military uniform. He looked up at her with an pleading expressing, “Come on, Y/N,” he called up, his voice a mix of desperation and imploring. “Are you really going to let it all go? I can talk to someone—someone higher up that with what’s going on. We can change this. You don’t have to do it.”

Her grip tightened on the balcony’s iron railing, her knuckles white with tension. She shook her head sharply, pressing her forehead to the cold metal. His words only deepened the ache inside her. Referring to her loss of the season to “what’s going on” made it sound trivial, dismissive, when it had torn her apart. “Stop it,” she whispered. Her voice trembled as she added, “I’m doing this for my family.”

“You don’t deserve this,” he said softly, his eyes locked on her. “You deserve the life you’ve worked for—just as much as your siblings do.”

“Y/N!”

The shout startled her, and she flinched, slamming the window shut as the door to her room swung open. She spun around, pressing her back against the glass, hands behind her to brace it closed. Her heart thundered in her chest, afraid of being caught—not by her two-year-old sister, but by someone who might hold more authority.

“What is it, Mae?” she asked, forcing calmness into her voice as the toddler raised her arms to be picked up. She obliged, hoisting the little girl onto her hip before sitting on the bed, her exhaustion evident. Her tangled hair framed her face, damp from the cold towels she’d used to try to soothe her pounding headache.

“Are you leaving because I used your makeup?” Mae pouted, her large, curious eyes searching Y/N’s face.

Y/N managed a tired smile. The memory of her two younger sisters destroying her makeup a few days earlier flickered briefly in her mind. Back then it had infuriated her, now it seemed like a distant worry. “No, Mae. I’m leaving because I’m getting married. Remember?” she said, her tone soft, trying to explain in a way the toddler could understand.

“What about being princesses?” Mae pouted harder.

It broke her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she pulled her sister into a tender hug. The pounding in her head and the dull ache in her lower belly were relentless, her body rebelling against her refusal to conceive this season—as if she’d had a choice.

Mae was innocence incarnate, her wide-eyed questions too pure for the weight they carried. But her older brother, on the other hand, had been no help. She’d found one of the WANTED posters of her soon-to-be husband plastered on her dressing table as a joke.

“You think this is funny?!” Y/N snapped, shaking the boy by his shoulders. Her anger surged, raw and unrestrained, but she bit back the urge to slap him. “I’m doing this for you, idiot! For you, for Ed, for Mom!”

“You’re not in charge,” the boy spat, his voice cracking but defiant. “Dad’s home, remember?”

The arrogance in his tone made her blood boil. Ever since their father’s return, the boy had become insufferable, emboldened by his status as the favored child and the budding dominance of his alpha nature.

“You want to be a man so badly? Then act like one and know your place!” she hissed, shoving the crumpled poster into his chest.

“You’re marrying a subversive,” he sneered with disdain, parroting words he clearly didn’t understand.

“I’m marrying someone who’ll make sure you don’t have to live off scraps and pity from the military, you little fool!” she snarled. Her hands trembled as frustration and heartbreak collided.

That memory dissolved into another—curled on her bed, her body wracked with cramps. The bathroom light, still on, spilled into the room. From the cracked door, she could hear her parents arguing. The light from the corridor illuminated the carpeted floor by the ajar door, casting her parents' distorted shadows like a muppets show against the ground.

“She needs to rest,” her mother said, trying to placate the man’s rising fury. “These things happens —”

“She’s ruining us!” her father screamed. “This was our chance, and she’s screwing it all up!”

Her sobs grew louder, muffled only by the pillow she pressed against her face. She lay with her back to the slightly open door, as if trying to shield herself from the conflict. They had been arguing for a while about the possibility, the events all pointing in one direction. That alone had fueled this outrage. ‘How am I going to tell them?’ The thought made her chest tighten with anxiety.

They argued over a possibility, now she had to confirmed them that it was a reality. Only minutes ago, she had walked to the bathroom—the golden light of the candle still flickering there. When her fingers came away stained with blood, the confirmation of what she already knew—her heat had passed, her body rejecting what it was supposed to do.

“She’s not doing it on purpose!” her mother argued.

“Then fix her! Give her some calming tea, call the damn doctor, do something! You think he'll keep her if she’s not useful?!”

She gripped the pillow tightly before tossing it over her head and pressing it hard against her face, as if she could make the world vanish for a moment. Silently pleading for the shouting to stop. ‘Please… just stop.’

None of the memories from the past week came to her in order; they just replayed chaotically in her mind. When her tired eyes fluttered open in the dim light of the room, she realized she had been tearing up in her sleep. The shadows cast inside the room weren’t her parents', and the voices weren’t theirs either. Sitting up slightly, she became aware of her surroundings. The sheets felt rough, and the mattress was smaller than what she was used to.

The memory of when she had fallen asleep completely eluded her, but the clock on the nightstand indicated it was already morning. She couldn’t tell by the window; the rain was still pouring heavily outside. The hushed whispers of two people on the other side of the room made her debate whether to sit up or feign sleep. She quickly chose the latter as the sound of someone opening the door reached her ears. Curling up in the bed, she pulled the sheets over her face, nearly hiding herself entirely.

With her face almost fully covered, the scent of the bed surrounded her. There was something subtly unsettling about the lingering fragrance of someone else on the sheets—a constant reminder that this wasn’t her bed. Yet, it wasn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite, it was oddly soothing. Her decision to pretend to be asleep shifted into the realization that she could drift off again. Perhaps her subconscious was taking over, responding instinctively to the alpha's scent that enveloped her—a primal comfort, making her feel safe and protected.

—

“Hi~” came Hange’s singsong voice as they opened the door without knocking. “Knock, knock,” they added playfully, as if mocking the concept of knocking before barging in.

Levi, standing in the middle of the room with his uniform half on and a toothbrush in his mouth, turned to glance at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I thought you’d be less ready at this hour,” Hange remarked, stepping fully into the room.

Levi spit out the toothpaste and wiped his mouth with a towel before muttering, “What are you doing here?” His eyes landed on the tray they carried. “And with a tray?”

“I brought breakfast for the newlywed couple!”

“Shh!” Levi hissed, moving swiftly to grab the tray before Hange accidentally dropped it. He motioned for silence, his expression stern. She was still asleep, and the message was clear.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hange whispered. As Levi set the tray on the coffee table and resumed getting ready, an unusual silence settled between them. It didn’t last long.

“So…” Hange began, their curiosity bubbling to the surface. “How was it? How is she?”

Levi ignored the question, muttering a vague reply through clenched teeth as he moved about the room, clearly trying to avoid the topic.

Hange’s sharp eyes followed him, their face shifting into a grimace as the tension grew. “I’m not exactly a purebred alpha,” they finally said, “but… you don’t smell very taken to me.”

Levi, who had just sneaked inside his room a little while ago to pick up his stuff, sighed loudly and stopped moving, giving himself a moment to respond. “… I couldn’t,” he admitted finally.

Hange pressed their lips together, unusually quiet for a moment. When Levi turned to face them, their expression said it all.

“Come on,” Levi snapped. “You’re a non-stop talker, and now you shut the hell up? Say something.”

“I’m… finding it.”

Levi rolled his eyes, grumbling in frustration.

“Oh boy…” Hange finally ventured. “Well. Maybe she was just tired? Tonight, after she’s settled—”

“We agreed I wouldn’t do it if she didn’t want to.”

The blank stare Hange gave him was enough to make Levi snap. “What did you want me to do?!”

“I don’t know?!” Hange exclaimed, throwing their arms in the air. “Claim her? Maybe?!”

From an outsider’s perspective, the exchange might have been hilarious—their expressions exaggerated, their words intense, yet still whispered fiercely to avoid waking her.

Levi scowled. “Well, excuse me. Excuse me for not being a fucking rapist.”

Hange’s attempt at a lighter tone wasn’t helping. “Some would argue that you are—you’re an alpha, after all.”

“You’re an alpha too, you idiot,” Levi shot back, finding no humor in their dark joke.

“Hardly. I’m more beta than alpha.”

Levi ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You should’ve seen the puppy eyes she gave me. I’ve got fucking lots of kinks, but that’s not one of them.”

Hange clicked their tongue and shook their head. “Omega puppy eyes… the deadliest weapon of all.” They crossed their arms, leaning back thoughtfully. “Zackly’s going to kill you, though.”

“Tch.” Levi rolled his eyes. “He can suck my dick.”

That made Hange laugh more than they should have. “Seriously, though—what the hell are you going to do with an unclaimed omega in the middle of a military facility? I can catch her scent, and I’m a low-breed alpha.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d help me with,” Levi admitted, reluctant to ask for help but clearly out of his depth.

Hange didn’t answer, instead moving toward the door.

“No, no, no,” Levi muttered, darting across the room to stop them, but they had already cracked it open to peek inside.

“You’re going to wake her up,” Levi hissed, his whisper dropping to an even lower register.

Hange ignored him, their eyes fixed on the small portion of her face visible above the sheets. “… What about a convent? Maybe I can talk to a priest.”

“A convent?” Levi echoed in disbelief as his exasperation grew “That’s your solution?”

“Either that or bars on all the windows. No one gets in, no one gets out.” Hange turned to him, smirking.

Levi shot them his best deadpan expression. “We’ve gone from a convent to a prison. And you’re supposed to be the brains here?”

“I gave you a solution,” Hange retorted, leaning closer as their whispered argument continued. “Claim her.”

“I can’t!” Levi snapped, his frustration boiling over.

“Then trust,” Hange said, spreading their arms in a gesture of faith. “Then trust our soldiers. I trust them—they’ll behave,” though their tone sounded less certain with each word. “Maybe Jean will get a little too excited, like a puppy with a new toy, but he’s a good kid.”

Levi’s flat expression didn’t waver. “You trust Floch around her without me in the picture?”

The brunette, who had been sporting a confident, almost cheerful smile while defending the few original members of the Scouts before they were nearly wiped out, suddenly shifted to a serious, defeated expression. Waving a hand in the air, they muttered, "You made your point loud and clear."

The silence that followed was thick, as both stood by the door frame. Levi, arms crossed, was deep in thought. Meanwhile, Hange continued to stare at her, their eyes scanning her face across the dimly lit room.

"I’ll just… lock her up here for a couple of days until her scent calms down. It’s not ideal, but—"

Levi’s quiet musings, spoken with a defeated tone, were abruptly interrupted by Hange muttering under their breath, "She’s hella cute, though."

Levi’s hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose, clicking his tongue in frustration.

"What? Can’t I compliment your wife?" the brunette asked jokingly, still admiring the sleeping girl. They tilted their head to the side, trying to get a better view. "You’re one lucky bastard."

"Four-eyes!" Levi snapped, using the old nickname he hadn’t used in years out of respect for his friend’s new position. The commander chuckled. "Stop staring at her," Levi ordered.

"I’m doing nothing," Hange shrugged, though their eyes remained fixed on the sleeping girl.

"I can fucking smell you, idiot!" Levi growled, clearly indicating that he could easily detect how Hange’s body reacted to his new wife. The spicy, interested aroma they gave off was more than enough for Levi to know that Hange found her more than just pretty.

Hange barely contained a laugh, forcing a straight face to speak. "Question, and this one’s serious," they said, their eyes twinkling. Levi’s tired expression only seemed to amuse them more. "If you two… ever get down to business, would you consider a threesom—"

"DON’T HIT ME!" Hange quickly added as Levi’s hand moved with lightning speed to smack the back of their head.

"Shut the fuck up. You’ll wake her up," Levi muttered, but Hange was already caressing the back of their head where Levi had smacked them. "And over my dead, cold body. You heard me?"

"Ugh," Hange groaned, rubbing the back of their head with their left hand. "You purebreds… are so territorial. You’re missing half the fun."

Levi remained with his arms crossed, eyes narrowing. "And you’ll be missing your only remaining eye if you ever bring that shit into my room again."

When she woke up again, the clock on the nightstand read 11 am.

(I'm sorry if this chapter was shitty, I'd been so stressed with work lately but I didn't want to let you all down another week in a row T-T)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.

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[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 29

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: poor parenting discussed, Talia may or may not be ooc (if she is, fear not! I have received 2 separate permits, and have been told I may do as I please!), mild cussing, fluff, angst, a smidge of fear

wc: 2.4k

Chapter Selection

“... Babe, I know you've described Damian's mom as a ‘real piece of work', and Bruce told me a bit about how she raised him before he came here, so I do know she's not what I would consider a good mom. But that doesn’t explain why her visiting means we can't go to the manor?”

Jason sighed, setting his phone aside. He cupped my cheeks, purring my name; “darling, light of my life. I mean this in the best possible way. … You cannot be trusted to keep your cool with her.”

I blinked several times, frowning; “what on earth does that mean?!”

“You are … passionate. You love fiercely, and I love that about you. Seriously, I don't want you to think this is a bad thing; the way you love us makes me feel so safe, and I know Damian agrees. But … you've already yelled at one of his teachers, his principal, and Bruce. You will not be able to hold your tongue with Talia. And holding our tongues is necessary with her. … If she believes living at Wayne Manor is making Damian weak, she will take him away 'for his own good’.”

“How on earth would I make her think he's weak?”

“Talia is the type of person who believes attachment makes us weak. The things we care about can be used against us, the people we love are the people who will hurt us the worst. She believes it's better to be feared than loved. She's why he's so good at masking his feelings. Why he doesn't always understand his own feelings; his early education did not include processing and recognizing emotions. But she's … incredibly astute. She's analytical, and brilliant, and terrifying, and … she's his mother; she taught him everything he knew before he came here, and now she can read him without trying, even when he tries to hide his feelings from her. So if she sees how you two are around each other, even if neither of you so much as acknowledge each other, she'll know how you feel about him, and how he feels about you, and we'll probably never see him again.”

I growled softly, clenching my jaw. “… Bitch…”

He chuckled softly, holding me close. “I know. Which is why we have to keep our distance. … She doesn't visit often, and when she does she never stays long. She'll probably be here for a week at most, stalking the kid to make sure he's not slipping, and once she's gone I’m certain he'll show up on our doorstep.”

I sighed softly. “... Ok. … If you see him between now and then you have to find a way to tell him that I’m missing him and I love him very much, ok?”

He groaned softly. “Aw, come on, babe. The Red Hood can't lean in to give Robin a hug during patrol!”

“I'm not asking you to hug him - don't hug him! Just make sure he knows that I'm thinking about him. Please?” I pouted, snuggling against his chest; “for me?”

“Ughhhhh …. Fine. For you.” He sighed, running his fingers down my spine.

I grinned, snuggling against him happily. “Thank you~”

“Yeah, yeah …” he chuckled, kissing my temple. We sat on the floor, curled against each other, for a long while before Jason finally moved us to the bed to get some sleep.

Jay quickly started moving his things into my place. I gave him my spare key and made space in the closet. When I got home from the next girls night some of his clothes were hung up next to mine. The next day there was one of those cheap plastic dressers next to my nice wood one, and sitting on top of it was Jason's cologne, a book, and his deodorant. His shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel joined mine on the side of the tub. We bought more towels and a new set of sheets.

All these little changes made me giddy; his things slotting into position next to mine just felt so right, and I would get used to the weapons that were suddenly stashed all over the apartment. We had a thorough gun-safety presentation that night, and he showed me where everything was. On the next gym-and-range day, we finished training with an exercise where he would, entirely at random, shout “intruder” and time how long it took me to have a weapon trained on him. My best time was two seconds; he had expected me to go for the gun in the drawer, not the knife block in front of me on the counter.

Soon I started packing Jason a lunch for patrol. Mostly because I wanted to take care of him in some way, but a part of me also hoped he'd run into Damian out there and share the cookies I made. He rolled his eyes at me the first time I pressed the insulated bag into his hands, but accepted it anyway. I sent him off with a kiss and a wave, and settled in to wait for him to come home. Hours later I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up it was 4:30am and he was unlocking the door. The exhaustion rolled off him as I pulled him into a tight hug, and we collapsed into bed. When I woke up for real around 11 the lunch bag was sitting on the kitchen counter, empty and clean. I grinned, filling it again that night, and Jason didn't offer so much as a token resistance before taking it.

A week and a half passed before he ran into Robin on patrol. Jason assured me that he had passed along my message, Damian was perfectly healthy and definitely missed me too, and he had even been forced to share the brownies I'd packed. I beamed, kissing his cheek in thanks, and we curled up in bed.

The next day, we started looking at houses online. We obviously only looked at what was available in Red Hood's territory; on top of him wanting to stay close to his patrol area, it was on the opposite side of Gotham from the well manicured lawns of Bruce's gated neighborhood and thus the perfect place to set up my clinic. Whether our home or the cave was closer, the bats would never be more than 30 minutes away from medical care. Jason took note of a few addresses he wanted to go check out, promising to swing by during patrol to see if they were securable.

“No reason to arrange a showing if I'm not gonna be able to make it safe for you.” He kissed my forehead, wrapping an arm around my waist. I chuckled softly, leaning against him. I was pretty sure he was the one who would need the most security measures to feel safe in our new home, but I wasn't going to argue. The way he lit up when providing for me was too precious a sight; if I complimented his cooking he turned pink and mumbled it was nothing. I thanked him for switching over the laundry and he sighed happily, nodding. When he saw progress in my training he beamed. And when he came home safe in the early hours of the morning, all anxiety and stress melted off of him the second he was in my arms.

In a lot of ways, life was starting to feel incredibly normal. We were like the picturesque 1950’s family I'd been taught to simultaneously idealize and vilify; until the spring semester at GU started I was free to spend my time how I pleased, and with Damian's mother still in town, that mostly meant finding new ways to feel like I was giving Jason as much as he gave me. I made sure he always had enough treats in his lunches, in case Damian was out too. When Jason returned from patrol I inspected him for any small wounds my first aid knowledge would fix. I doted on him every chance I got, and he doted right back. It was wonderful, truly.

But when he left for work, and I was alone with my thoughts, the stillness in the apartment quickly became overwhelming. At first Damian's sudden absence from my life had been annoying but acceptable. But after the first couple days it started to feel like a rabid dog was using my heart as a chew toy. Why was his mother still here? What was she doing? What was she saying to him? He had been making such incredible progress; he smiled more, he initiated hugs, he accepted them more readily. He was painstakingly tearing down the walls around his feelings brick by brick. It was a difficult process, and he was being so brave, I couldn’t be prouder! But what was she doing to those walls while I was kept away?

It had been two weeks, and I was starting to wonder if she planned to stay for the holidays. I didn't want her to stay for the holidays! I had plans, and I couldn't do my plans if I couldn't go to the manor! Being barred from Wayne Manor meant no Damian, but it also meant no Steph, no Dick, no Tim, none of them! We had decided it would be best if it looked like I was just Jason's girlfriend; as far as Talia knew he was indifferent to the family, if that. So I had to appear indifferent at best as well.

I was still able to go to girls' night, because that was being held at Barbara's home. There was no reason to believe Talia would know or care about that. But I missed training with everyone. I missed finding new ways to tease Tim. I missed Dick's good natured laugh. God help me, I even missed Bruce! He pissed me off, but he was still kind to me for the most part, and he was a good trainer. I wanted things to get better with him, for Jason and Damian's sake. I wanted him to be the dad they deserved, the dad Dick believed he wanted to be. I was pretty sure he had it locked away inside him, he just needed … something. What exactly that was, I wasn't sure; maybe to see how happy Damian was with simple childhood experiences? Or to see the peace on Jason's face when we cooked together. Or maybe he needed to experience some of that for himself. But whatever he needed, I was sure he wasn't getting it, and until Talia al Ghul left I wouldn't find out.

I tried to busy myself with crafting and baking. With the winter holidays on the horizon I really should have started on presents around Halloween, especially considering how many people I was making gifts for this year. But better late than never, so I used the time alone to get started. Jason would be gone for hours, I had plenty of time. Or, I would have if not for the knock at the door.

I jumped, looking up incredulously. I wasn't expecting guests, especially this late at night. Anyone I wanted here had my phone number, and no one had called or texted. I grabbed my phone, just to be sure, but I was right - no unread texts, no missed calls. A moment later there was another knock, this one more insistent.

I grabbed one of Jason's guns and my phone, ready to call him with the push of a button, and looked through the peephole. A beautiful woman was standing at the door, an unamused look on her face. Her clothes were too elegant for this neighborhood, she definitely didn't just wander to the wrong door. I sighed, a sinking sensation in my gut as I cracked the door open just enough to reveal my face.

“... Hello?” I frowned.

She raised an eyebrow; “... is hospitality well and truly dead in this country, or are you going to invite me in?”

“At eleven o'clock at night, in this neighborhood, with an uninvited stranger on the doorstep? It’s dead. Now, would you like to introduce yourself, or should I shut the door?”

She tsked; “I am Talia al Ghul. Why have you been spending time with my son?”

I silently cursed, but forced my expression to remain bored and distrusting; “... Your son?”

“Damian …” she sighed, “I believe he's using his father's last name now, Wayne.”

“Oh, Jason's brother? He's not here.”

“Obviously not.” She snapped; “are you going to let me in?”

“Why? He's not here.”

“I know he's not here! I want to know why you've been spending so much time with him.”

“I dunno about ‘much’. I've met him.”

“You are his emergency contact at that paltry excuse for a school he is enrolled at.”

“Oh, is that what you're so upset about?” I shrugged; “'m just doing a favor for Jay by doing a favor for his dad.”

“... Elaborate.”

“Mr. Wayne is a busy man, I am not a terribly busy woman. Emergency contact at the school was a simple enough thing to take off his plate. Kinda thing that seems bigger than it actually is. He now associates me with his life being ever so slightly easier. He already associates me with Jason, ergo he now associates Jason with his life being slightly easier.”

She frowned deeply. “You are emotionally manipulating Bruce into … what, being kinder to his second son?”

“... I suppose so, yeah. Didn't really think about it that way. 'Manipulation' makes it sound so much more convoluted and … effort-full. All I did was sign a piece of paper.”

Her expression morphed into a small smirk; a very Damian-like expression. “... And you are Jason's … girlfriend?”

“Yep.”

“... Hm.” She nodded once. “... Very well then.”

“... Okaaay. … So are you like, sticking around or somethin'? Do you want to be the emergency contact now?”

“No, there is no reason for that…” she pursed her lips; “establishment to have my phone number.”

I shrugged again. “Alright… Anything else?”

“... No, I suppose not.”

“Kay. I'm goin' back to bed then. Goodbye.” I shut the door, locking it, and looked through the peephole again. She glowered at my door, seemingly considering something, and finally left.

I watched her walk away until she was entirely out of sight, then slowly retreated to the couch to text Jay.

Me: Everything is fine, do not panic; but I just met Talia. 11:20pm

Jason: I'm coming home. Don't open the door to anyone. 11:35pm

Me: 👍❤️ 11:36pm

Next ->

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[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 2

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2])

I was so looking forward to brighten this particular scene, it's the darkest yet and it's such a beautiful one it's a pity to miss even one detail

oh no lilia stop being so cute????

have you ever seen jen with a bigger smile? and she's quiet as usual, it's almost like more than the ride she's enjoying how much fun her friends are having. especially lilia, those two have been forming a bond that is equal parts bickering and a growing respect

I'm just glad alice had this moment of pure unadulterated joy before it came all crashing down

agatha is very, very quiet. despite never letting herself feel anything freely, she takes a moment to close her eyes and enjoy the beauty of it all

she looks back at rio, so sensual and confident

how can kathryn hahn convey so much with so little time? her breath catches at her sight. and then worry and fear take hold and she gives the tiniest shake of her head, as if she's forbidding herself to entertain any kind of thought about rio. she looks away. the blood moon behind her spells disaster

meanwhile billy is that kid who has the time of his life hanging out with the teachers during a field trip

I want to personally thank aubrey plaza for every acting choice she made as rio, but ESPECIALLY for this witchy laugh

(I just brightened the salem seven witch vomiting bees and it's actually pretty impressive! but I don't want to trigger any insect haters around here) (I love insects though so please talk to me about spiders if you want)

they couldn't get a good look at the cabin before rushing in and I couldn't either until now, do we know if it's something from Agatha's past? did she use to live there?

I'm salty that alice had to die in these stupid clothes

So. I think this trial is the most fucked up and humiliating yet. Billy knew nothing about jen except superficial facts, so he put her in a scenario that matched her work aesthetic, more of a personal insult than a wake up call (compare it with the broom lilia just made for her: roots and flowers, something that speaks about jen's work, beliefs and traditions.)

Alice's trial was entirely based on lorna, we know billy is a big fan so he ran with that concept creating something that really shook alice, and not in a good way. she was forced to sit in her dead mom's house and wear her clothes for god's sake. she took it as the Road wanting to teach her a lesson, when it was just a teenager with the grace and subtlety of a newborn puppy.

Now, agatha. billy doesn't know a thing about her because she's private to the point of paranoia. he has gathered that there's something in her past about a dead child and that's probably what makes her grumpy, so he... tried to make her talk to nicky. with a fuking oujia board. Despite having had his share of shock and trauma billy inevitably has a kid's point of view re: death, and even more so because he's functionally immortal. death is something that happens to other people, or far far away in the future. he thinks he's giving agatha much needed therapy, when he actually put a grown woman in child's clothes and made her relive her traumas for everyone to see.

btw I'm not in any way saying that the trials are bad writing. they are brilliant writing. they're just tragic and fucked up behind the funny exterior, just like agatha herself. sorry for the rant.

I mean I wouldn't be opposed to that. we could put billy back in a closet for a little while and get down and dirty with it. and ooh there's a little leaf on rio's shirt, I hadn't noticed it!

jen's retainer always SENDS me

agatha's face when she realizes it's her trial

agatha is irrevocably, eternally linked with death in all its forms

looks like rio is playing along and setting the scene, but she's also doing something more subtle that only agatha understands: she's provoking her, and it's becoming more personal and hurtful. she's testing and punishing more than she used to. she is growing angrier.

agatha wants to tell rio to fuck off but knows she deserves it. agatha is NOT happy to be in this trial for reasons that go beyond what everyone present (except rio) assumes, but she'll bite the inside of her cheeks until they bleed before she shows any of it

the way he says it with a straight face too (again, NO PUN INTENDED. forgive me joe, I would never)

oh great alice has only thirty minutes to live

everyone looks worried and on their guard, rio has her whole knife out, playing along. agatha is STILL trying to look cool and casual, it's painful to watch. girl is panicking, hard

meanwhile billy is always bringing a whole different energy, he's playing and having fun! think back to the second episode when they met lilia and then jen and alice for the first time. billy had no clue about the tension, the fear and hate between them and agatha. right now he's still more excited than scared. he's about to have a rude awakening.

do not taunt the spirits, AGATHA.

lmaooo. this motherfucker.

another moment when billy sounds chillingly cruel. being jigsaw without realizing it

I'm not pointing it out every time but whenever agatha does this with her arms she's really, really really nervous

what does agatha do when she's scared or overwhelmed? she puts on a show. like clockwork. and rio has already guessed what's about to happen

I really want to continue this so there will be more later today, stay tuned!

go to episode 5 part 3

[chococara25]

Thanksgiving

AU where Buck woke up, thinking about Tommy and decided to cook for Thanksgiving, baking crusty pecan pies & pumpkin pies, delicious green bean casseroles and sweet potato gratins, cheesy cauliflower cheese with turkey bacon bits, creamy mashed potatoes and the classic stuffings.

After done with baking and cooking, he realized he had no one to give it to (Everyone would just give him weird looks if he brings everything to potluck Thanksgiving dinner, plus they had forbid him from cooking) and wondering if he should donate to the homeless shelters cos at least someone can sleep warm with a full stomach when Lucy Donato texted him out of nowhere complaining how everyone is swamped in calls all day long and how hungry they are including Tommy, who came in to cover someone's shift and EPIPHANY!! He can just give them to the 217 AND check on Tommy at the same time.

He starts to pack everything before separating some food into different containers and stick a sticky note on each of them. He then unload the bread loaves and cookies he had been making for the past week into a basket cos waste not, want not right?

Tommy coming back from a weird call involving some idiots trying to make turkey barbacoa in their backyard when he saw everyone gathering around the dining table, stuffing their face, moaning about the delicious food and praising the cook.

He was confused till he turned around to see Evan of all people staring at him, unruly curls and dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey. Lucy said you guys haven't eaten all day." Evan looked awkwardly at him.

(At the corner of his eyes, he can see Lucy slunking off guiltily, carrying a whole pie and weird a plate of cupcakes with her)

Evan looked as if he wanted to say something but looked away, his lips twisted unhappily. He pushed a bag full of containers and a basket full of bread and cookies at them before running away.

Tommy hid in one of the closets, checking the bag and basket, its contents each marked by a sticky note.

The Banana Loaf - "Everytime I think of calling you, I baked instead. Now my fridge is full but I'm still thinking about you."

The Snickerdoodle cookies - "Jee asked where cool uncle Tommy was. She misses her tea party partner."

Vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake - "I can't stop thinking how you would enjoy all the cakes and pastries I made for the past few months."

green bean casserole - "I still have your clothes and I kept wearing them to sleep cos its the closest thing I have to you because I have a hard time falling asleep without you holding me in your arms"

Carrot cake loaf - "I saw a helicopter today at work and I wonder if it was you flying it. We never did have that flying lesson."

cauliflower cheese - I'm sorry I never told you I love you when I really do. I love you and I missed every single minute the moment you walk out of my life.

pecan pie - I'm sorry I said the wrong things when I asked you to move in with me. I'm sorry I too much in the end for you and drove you away."

pumpkin pie - I'm sorry you felt pressured but I didn't lie, I really admire you and your confidence made me feel safe, being with you was like waking up for the first time from the lightning coma, I could breath again and you were the one who set me free.

sweet potato gratin - "You said you were my first but not my last. Tommy, you might be my first boyfriend but you definitely my last."

stuffings - "You are my beginning and my forever happy ending. I have no interest in looking for a different happy ending if you're not in it."

By the time he reached the last container, his eyesight were blurry with unshed tears.

Brownies - "Can we try one more time? I'm not ready to give on us."

Tommy was startled when the door to the closet swung open, Captain Pruitt looming over him with a plate of pecan pie in her hands. "I saw firefighter Buckley earlier when he dropped off the food. I don't know what's going on between the two of you and why both of you decided to break up, but Kinard, that man looks as if he still in love with you."

She panicked as Tommy burst into loud tears, holding the container of brownies to his chest.

Evan was cleaning up his kitchen, he was too tired and too emotionally wrung out to stay for the Thanksgiving dinner other than dropping off the last two pies for everyone to enjoy.

He frowned when he hear the doorbell, wondering if Maddie is going to stage another intervention on him when he opened the door, before staring in surprise.

Tommy was standing in front of him, still wearing his flight suit, holding the container with brownies and the sticky notes in his arms.

"Can we talk?" He asked with hopeful eyes.

Evan pulled him into the loft, closing the door behind them.

[maddiethedogstories]

Thanksgiving at his Family's House

"Sorry, sweetie! Brandon didn't tell us he was bringing a guest! This is the only chair we have left! I'm just so happy that you're such a tiny little thing, that you fit!" Your boyfriend's mom told you as she slid the tray of the high chair in place.

At least you got to sit next to Brandon, you thought to yourself as you looked at the crowded room filled with the unfamiliar faces of your boyfriend's relatives.

It would have been nice if Brandon could have warned his family he was bringing you. It would have been nice if he would have had the time of dinner right. Maybe if you had been on time or his mom was forewarned, you wouldn't be dressed in your holiday best, locked in a high chair, waiting for Brandon to make you a plate like a toddler.

But, you weren't going to make a fuss and risk a bad impression the first time meeting his family. And you were glad you didn't.

As dinner went on, you found yourself happily chatting with all of Brandon's family members. They were all so kind and interesting that you totally forgot your childish seating arrangement.

As you chatted away with Brandon's sister, a 27-year-old woman just a few years your senior, you didn't even mind when he left, saying he was going to play football in the backyard.

At least, you didn't mind until all of the delicious food you had been eating started to make its way through your body.

"Hey, do you think you could let me out so I can help clean up?" You asked your boyfriend's sister timidly as you started to notice mother nature running it's course through your bladder and bowels.

"Of course not, sweetie! You're our guest! Make yourself comfortable! No cleaning for you," she said as she cleared your plate and utensils off the tray of your highchair.

You turned to Brandon's mother, hoping for help from her as a cramp rocked your body.

"Um, ma'am, could you let me out? I'd like to keep getting to know you all and don't want to be stuck at the table," you asked politely.

Your boyfriend's mother grinned.

"Oh, sweetie! You don't have to get out of your seat for that! I'll just roll you into the kitchen so you can talk with us while we clean!"

You blushed as the larger woman easily tipped the high chair back on its small wheels and rolled you into the kitchen.

You gripped your stomach and squeezed your thighs together as best you could as his mother and sister spoke with you while doing dishes.

However, after a little time, the sound of running water in the sink and the pressure of the large dinner you ate became too much. With zero fanfare, your bladder and bowels released at once, destroying your panties and cute holiday skirt.

Tears immediately pooled in your eyes at the humiliation of what had just happened. You were trying to plan a way out of the situation when Brandon's sister turned from the sink, and her gaze fell on you.

"What's wrong?" She asked just as the smell hit her. "Oh! Oh, no! Why didn't you tell us you needed to?" She asked rhetorically, letting the last words of her question drop off.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks in earnest.

The slightly older woman leaped into action immediately at your obvious distress. She whispered in her mom's ear then rescued you from your plastic prison. She easily lifted you onto her hip like an infant, embarrassingly smushing the mess in your panties into you, and carried you to an upstairs bedroom, decorated for a young girl.

"Don't worry, sweetie, we'll get you all fixed up and know one will be the wiser!"

Your boyfriend's sister expertly stripped you of your clothes and produced another holiday outfit, this time a red dress that looked a little big for you. She also pulled a large, white diaper out of a dresser.

You were too embarrassed to protest or ask questions as she had you lay on the bed and diapered you. You then meekly raised your arms as she pulled the dress over your head.

You spun for her at her command. She clapped her hands together, satisfied.

"Perfect! And no one else has to know! If anyone asks, I just thought you would look amazing in this cute little dress I used to wear to Thanksgiving in middle school, and you agreed to change!"

You nodded your head obediently, ready to agree to any story other than the truth.

"And, if you have any other little, um, accidents," your boyfriend's sister said conspiratorially, "just let me know, and your new big sister will be more than happy to take care of you again."

You blushed, but nodded your head in affirmation meekly, not ready to piss off the woman who just helped you after watching you mess yourself in a highchair.

She led you back into the rest of the house, where the rest of the family was now gathered together watching football. Brandon's mom gave you an empathetic look as you carefully walked over to your boyfriend and sat next to him.

"Hey, baby," he said, making your face turn as red as your dress, "Cute outfit! My sis is letting you borrow her clothes? I told you that she'd love you!"

You just snuggled into him and made a non-committal noise.

The rest of the night went blessedly smoothly. Everyone socialized amiably, updating each other on the happenings in their lives before it was time to leave. You were only reminded of the events earlier in the day twice, when Brandon's sister asked if you needed any more 'help.'

As you left for the night, his sister made sure to give you the last hug. She let her hand drift down your back and onto your padded rear-end, squeezing it before announcing to the rest of the family, "I've always wanted a baby sister, and I'm so happy my little brother has seemed to find me the perfect one! I can't wait to see you at Christmas!"

The rest of the family cheered in agreement as you walked out the door to the car, your boyfriend beaming at how much everyone loved you. You, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel like you were going to learn to dread holidays with his family as you let a little trickle of urine into the diaper wrapped between your legs.

[fuck-customers]

We're starting up interviews for seasonals and the amount of people who have no idea how to handle job interviews is astonishing.

You know why it's important to make yourself likeable??? Because none of us here want to work with someone who is an asshole, arrogant, or bland as hell! This is a tiny store with a tiny team - we all got to get along to some degree. No one wants to be around someone who's always negative about everything either. It's not cool or edgy - it's just annoying. You don't have to be super bubbly and out going either.

We have a more casual dress code, but do you see any of us wearing sweatpants and oversized, stained hoodies??? No? Then why did you wear that to the interview?? There are plenty of places to find nice looking clothes for cheap. You don't have to get super fancy either or drop a lot of money on it???

Why didn't we call you to set up an interview? Because you called yourself anti-social and requested a stock room position - WHICH WE DON'T HAVE! The only position listed is sales associate! You also just showed you never walked into the store before because one visit will show this job isn't a good fit for you.

Why should we hire you when you flat out admitted to stealing?? Not just worried about the store products - we're supposed to trust you around our own personal belongings in the back?? Fuck no!

No we're not going to schedule another interview. You didn't even show up to the first one and didn't bother to call ahead to let us know why until a few days after. We already filled the positions because there were others who actually showed up and management liked them! If you would have called beforehand to say something came up they would have rescheduled!

My brother's and sister's in bear please look up some interview etiquette and tips if you really don't know what to do. I'm tired of seeing people complain that it's always the businesses fault when they don't get hired. Please reflect on your own behavior for interviews because chances are it's truly honestly actually you who's holding you back.

Posted by admin Rodney

[reader-lola]

A relaxing shower

Matt x reader | Warning: +18, masturbation

The house was quiet. Matt and you were in his room resting comfortably. Your head resting on his shoulder while you both looked at your respective phones. The silence of the room kept you in a gratifying state of peace.

“Baby, are we going to take a shower?” Your boyfriend asks as he turns off his phone and gently places it on his nightstand. “Chris and Nick are about to arrive and we have to record a video.”

“Yeah, let’s go” You said turning off your phone in the process and getting ready for a comfortable shower, or at least that was what you thought without really knowing your boyfriend’s intentions.

You took off your clothes while Matt turned on the water. You started to put your hair up so as not to get it wet while he took off his clothes.

“Chris told me they’d be here in about 15 minutes, so he expects me to be ready to record much sooner. Sometimes his impatience drives me crazy.”

The water starts to wet your body and you see Matt grab the soap to start lathering you up. “Now he insists on rushing me to record every time, I don’t know why he gets so desperate.”

You were so focused on listening to your boyfriend’s voice and his new worries that you didn’t notice how his hand went down to your legs, making room for that part he liked so much.

“Matt…”

“Plus, I don’t know what’s going on with both of you uploading so many TikToks a week. You can’t expect that…” You stop hearing his voice the moment his finger starts making circles on your clitoris, sending electric currents throughout your body.” And they're also getting the fans used to that level of attention, when everyone knows I'm not that active on social media.” He inserted a finger inside you while with the other hand he directed the shower stream towards your center.

“Fuck Matt…” The sensations of pleasure swirled making you feel weak in your legs.

“Shhh, love, don't make noise, my brothers will arrive any minute.”

His finger entered and exited at a constant and calm rhythm. His calmness was making you nervous as he didn't give you as much as your body craved.

“Besides, I'm talking to you about my worries, you need to pay attention, like a good girlfriend.”

The fact that he was testing you in such a calm and peaceful way only managed to make you wetter than you already were.

His calm voice accompanied by the contrast of his fingers was putting you on edge. With the jet of water aimed at your clitoris, you only managed to open your mouth to emit silent moans, trying to remain silent as he had asked.

“Matt, I can't take it anymore…”

“So cum princess, I'm looking forward to it”

Without time to think, you listened to your boyfriend. A wave of pleasure filled you from head to toe. Your legs trembled at the sensation, accompanied by the shudder of your body.

“Well done, darling, now let's go out, my brothers are already waiting”

You weren't even aware of having heard them arrive, but after getting dressed and opening the bathroom door you confirmed it. Chris and Nick were sitting on the couch, probably waiting for Matt to record.

Chris's voice broke into the silence.

“And you didn't wait for me to shower with you? What a bad brother”

[kpop---scenarios]

Walk All Over Me

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Reader

Warning: Smut ( Oral, f. receiving & m. receiving, unprotected sex, cream pie.) Angst, Mean reader [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.]

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You and Mingyu are friends with benefits, he wants more but you don't. And even though you're using him, he can't help but fall more in love.

This story was based off this song; Stay For a While by Victor Ray.

“You wanna dance with me?” You whisper into Mingyu's ear, your hand slowly caressing his arm as you stand so close to him. He feels like he's going to faint having you be so close to him. He was so fucking in love with you, he thought he might be going crazy from how badly he wanted just kiss you right then and there. But you had been very clear with him from the beginning that you guys were strictly a secret occasional hook up, nothing more and nothing less.

He accepted it at the time because he figured having you in this way was so much better than not having you at all but as time went on, his feelings were becoming harder and harder to contain. Mingyu smiles slightly at you, shaking his head no. He didn't want to put you in a position where the two of you might be found out by the others, even though that was all he wanted.

“I love this song!” You squeal, moving away from Mingyu, instead grabbing Seungcheol's hand, dragging him to the dance floor as Mingyu stays behind watching as you grind yourself against his leader.

This is what he gets, for being so fucking in love with someone who wasn't ready to settle down.

“So, uh, are you and Y/N together? What's going on between the two of you?” The8 asks, standing next to Mingyu who leaned against the bar, watching you still dance with Seungcheol. Mingyu glances down at the floor before smiling over at The8 and taking a sip of his drink. He was the only one Mingyu had told about you and how you and he had taken things to the next level. He was happy for the two of you at first, but now it seemed to him as if Mingyu was more into you than you were him. He knew The8 worried about it but Mingyu was confident… sort of.

“It's… it's complicated.” He laughs. “We sort of are.”

“I dunno man, from where I'm standing, it doesn't look all that complicated to me. It looks like you're just friends…like the rest of us.” The8 shrugs, walking towards the dance floor. Mingyu watched as you caressed Wonwoo's arm, watching as Seungcheol's hands roamed your body, stopping at your hips, pulling you in closer.

“Mingyu.” Wonwoo says, nudging the spaced out man. “We're heading back to Woozi's, you coming?” He asks. Mingyu sets down his forgotten drink, following behind the group, his eyes never leaving you. Not even when you linked arms with Hoshi, or when your hand intertwined with DK's, or when Seungcheol jokingly squeezed your ass.

Fuck.

Sometimes your loud, easy-going and outgoing personality made it really fucking hard for him to watch you be so friendly with his friends. You didn't ask them to stop or not to do those things, you embraced the attention, you loved it and he could see it on your face. Whereas he just wanted to shout how in love with you he was from the rooftop. All night Mingyu watched you with the others. Laughing and drinking. Glancing at him, giving him a sly wink, being flirtatious from afar. The way he just wanted to rip your clothes off in front of everyone and fuck you while they watched was unhealthy, but fuck did he want you so fucking badly. He would do anything for you, be anything for you and you were very much aware of how he felt.

A while later, Mingyu wandered off to the bathroom, trying to contain himself and calm down. It was getting harder for him to see you flirting with others and he didn't know how much more he was going to be able to take. He walks out of the bathroom, his head down until he stops in his tracks, seeing a familiar pair of shoes in front of him. His eyes trail up, seeing you leaning against the wall, drunkenly looking at him.

“I was wondering where you disappeared too.” You smile, moving closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to your level. “I don't think you know how much i fucking want you.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. You move your hand to his chest, slowly running it down, over his abs, gently into caressing his dick.

“Y/N!” You hear from around the corner. “Come take a shot!”

You laugh, quickly pressing a kiss to Mingyu's lips before running off, laughing at the cheers of your return. Mingyu knew something needed to change between the two of you and if he wanted more he was going to have to be the one to bring it up. He heads back to the group, trying to insert himself in conversations and games, doing his best to try to not pay as much attention to you but it didn't last long. He had the worst fucking time trying to peel his eyes away from you, eventually he just gave up and went to bed in one of the spare bedrooms instead. He fell asleep rather quickly, the alcohol having made his head spin a little too much.

Hours later, he's woken up by a light rapid knocking at the door. He rubs his eyes, slipping out of bed, opening the door as his hand runs through his hair.

“Y/N?” He mumbles.

“I need you so bad, baby.” You moan, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. “Don't you need me too?” You whisper.

“Fuck.” He hisses, pulling you inside the room, slamming the door with your body. He pins you against the door, his lips quickly attaching to yours. His kiss is sloppy, so needy as he slides his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. You needed to feel him, all of him. Mingyu wastes no time, pulling away from you. He grabs your wrist, turning you and pushing you down onto the bed. The light from the moon shines into the room, giving the two of you limited lighting but it was just enough. He pushes your dress up, pulling your panties down from your body, throwing them anywhere. He pushes your legs open, diving right into your already wet cunt. You grab the sheets of the bed, moaning loudly as Mingyu licks your pussy, sucking on your clit, making your eyes roll back onto your head.

“Oh… Oh my fucking god.” You cry out, arching your back as you orgasm quickly approaches. “Don't… Fuck… please don't stop.” You whine, grabbing his hair, pulling him in closer. You grind yourself on his face, your orgasm exploding through your body. You scream out as you cum, your juices seeping from your pussy. Mingyu happily laps up everything, before sitting up, licking up all the juices from his face.

“You're so good at that.” You breathe, sitting up, smiling at the sexy man. You push him down onto the bed, pulling his sweats from his body, letting his already hard cock spring free. You lick your lips as you bend down, licking his cock from base all the way up to his tip. You take just his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, making him groan. You slowly take more and more of his cock into your mouth, until you can't take anymore. His tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag. Mingyu moans at the sound, grabbing the back of your head and thrusting up a few times before releasing your head, letting you up for air.

“Fuck baby, i love when you take all of my cock.” He groans. He sits up, pushing you down onto the bed on your hands and knees. He moves your dress up once again, exposing your bare ass. He gives you a few hard slaps before he lines himself up with you, pushing his cock inside of you.

“Oh shit.” You groan. You love the way his cock stretches your pussy. “My god.” You cry, as Mingyu pulls out, and slams back inside of you.

“You feel… so fucking good.” He groans, his fingertips digging into your hips as he speeds up his thrusts, ramming his cock inside of you over and over again.

He reaches under you, pulling down the front of your dress, letting your tits fall out of your dress, gently pinching and groping you nipples as he continues to fuck you. You moan loudly, moving your own hand between your legs. Your fingers touch your sensitive clit, making you groan as you rub it while Mingyu fucks you.

“Right there… Oh fuck… yes, fuck.” You cry out, your second orgasm building quickly.

“You take my cock so fucking well… like the dirty little slut you are.” Mingyu moans, fucking you harder and faster. “You wanna fuck everyone else too, don't you?” He groans.

“No baby.” You whimper. “Just you… ah, fuck…”

“Mhmm, that's right… just me.” He breathes, throwing his head back as he quickened his pace again, desperately chasing his own high.

“Cum for me… cum all over my cock, baby.” Mingyu moans, holding you tighter. You rub your clit a little faster, bringing you over the edge again. You cum hard, clenching your cunt around his cock.

“Good fucking girl.” He spits, grabbing your hair, yanking your head back. “That's right.” keeps his pace, his orgasm right there. He keeps going until he finally cums, spilling himself inside of you. He groans loudly as he slowly pumps in and out, making sure to give you everything he has.

He finally pulls out and you both collapse onto the bed. Your chests are heaving, you can't hear anything else but the two of you breathing, except for faint voices of those still awake in the living room.

Mingyu's stomach is in knots as he thinks about bringing up wanting more from you. He knows now probably isn't the best time but it was now or never in his mind. He turns his head to look at you, watching you lay there with your eyes closed, trying to settle down.

Mingyu quickly stands up, putting his clothes back on before he turns on the light. You squeeze your eyes closed harder, not wanting to be blinded yet.

“Y/N…” He breathes, looking down at you. You finally open your eyes, looking towards him smiling.

“Mingyu.” You giggle.

“I want…Fuck.” He breathes. You can see the nervousness plastered on his face. “I want… No, I need more. From you. From this. I want… Well, I want to be your boyfriend.” He breathes. “I'm so in love with you…” He trails off.

“Oh.” You sigh. Mingyu can see the rejection coming plastered all over your face. “You know I'm not looking for anything more than just this. We were just having fun.” You murmur, sitting up in the bed, standing up to find your underwear.

“I want to take you on a date. Just one date. Let me prove I'm the man you should be with.” He sighs. “Tomorrow night.”

“Mingyu… i -.” You pause. “I can't tomorrow. Um, The8 actually asked me on a date earlier tonight. And I said yes.” You whisper.

You didn't realize the depth of his feelings for you. While you liked Mingyu and you liked when the two of you fucked around, you weren't looking for anything else… With him.

“So you wont go on a date with me because you don't want anything serious but you'll go with The8?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

“Why?” He yells, standing up, facing you. “Why the fuck am I not good enough for you?” He yells.

“Woah, where the fuck is this coming from?” You yell back, stepping away from him. “You knew exactly what the fuck you were getting into when we started this.”

“Yeah I did and now I need more from you!” He yells.

“I… I can't give you more, Mingyu.” You whisper.

“Why not?” He asks. “Why can't I have more? Why can't I be your boyfriend? Why can't you just give me a chance? Please Y/N, just one fucking chance!” He says.

He's about to talk again but you cut him off, you're over this conversation already.

“Because you'd make a shitty fucking boyfriend, Mingyu. Your pretty face and amazing dick game can only get you so fucking far in life. And this begging me is a complete turn off. Your person is out there but it sure as fuck isn't me.” You snap, grabbing your panties and storming out of the room, leaving Mingyu standing there feeling even more in love with you than he was before.

[bleaksqueak]

just wanted to say, as a fellow artist, THANK YOU for talking about shortcuts 🙏🙏 ive had baggage over not doing art """properly""" (re: the repetitive frustrating way just to prove i can), and im finally letting myself use tricks like warping and textured brushes and such, but i still feel weird sometimes. then i see a batshit amazing artist like you uses them, and i feel better. so thanks 😭 (and yes aye-eye is not included in this, mass theft isnt a shortcut)

The great thing about baggage is you can and absolutely should work up to just checking that crap in at the front desk and then conveniently forget to ever pick it back up~ Seriously though, it's no problem, and I'm glad to hear you're loosening up with it! If it helps, shortcuts are drilled into you if you work professionally in art. The only people who don't use shortcuts who work professionally are people who simply don't want to (be it stubbornly or out of enjoyment) and people who can afford to (names so big that deadlines will either be lenient or are dictated by the artist themself) The urgency to do everything the painstakingly hard way is, weirdly enough, a mindset most common in hobbyist spaces. People who want to do it that way (out of enjoyment, out of pride) are more than welcome to do it (as I'll sometimes just do slow crosshatching, no special brushes, because I find it relaxing)... but those who insist others do it or they aren't a real artist are often speaking from a position of bad faith, or are repeating what they had drilled into them by another hobbyist or their childhood/teen year art teachers, *or* are doing it to place themselves on a pedestal competitively. So, basically! Do things manually if you feel like it, but also know that there's hardly a "pro" out there that doesn't utilize a lot of fun little tricks and shortcuts. We still do it by our artistry, which is where the line is drawn with generated bullshit (also, you know, it's theft), but I guess a good way to look at it is like this: When you're drawing a piece of storytelling art or a comic page and the character has an elaborate costume with chains (my own character's lapel pins... we can look at Spawn, or a Nomura character and their department store of belts)...What's more important? The intricate detail of the chain, proving you can do it (again and again and again, since every angle would need to be drawn anew) Or the character acting, the composition, the atmosphere? It's the aspects that tell something about the character, the action, and the story that are always going to win out and matter, meaning that chain is just busy work-- a prime candidate for a quick swipe of a chain brush, or if you're me, this little friend:

So, yeah!! At the end of the day, the most important thing is to do what brings you joy or what meets your goal. I do love drawing clothes and I love details (love patterns and gold details especially)... but I also love finishing my work and shortcuts allow me to focus on the charcter acting and the atmosphere instead! Go forth and don't feel guilty. So long as you're not stealing from anyone and having fun, you're not doing anything wrong.

[rushingheadlong]

(Left: Photo from an ebay listing from Magnifico Vintage Magazines; Right: Photo from a PDF scan from worldradiohistory.com)

I stumbled across this article (from Record Mirror magazine, 30 March 1974) and wanted to share it because it’s a fascinating follow-up to this article I’ve previously shared from Melody Maker which was printed a week prior. 

The Melody Maker article looked at the role of big business in the music industry, specifically by using Queen and another band Merlin as examples of “hyped” groups i.e. artificially manufactured to generate maximum interest. While this may be somewhat accurate for Merlin, it’s not true for Queen at all - and as the Record Mirror article above shows, they were not happy about this comparison.

(Left: From Record Mirror magazine; Right: The photo in question from Melody Maker)

Lead guitarist Brian May picked up the paper and waves it under my nose. "This article is the biggest load of rubbish I've ever read in my life", he declares vindictively. "Look, there are people going to read this article - some of them won't have heard of Merlin and some of them won't know us. The headline screams out commercial pop. They've printed a very old picture of us, which we hate, looking extremely poppy and underneath it is the word HYPE. The whole article says in a suggestive way that Queen are a hype."

So Brian is certainly not happy with the Melody Maker article - or at least he doesn't like the photo they chose! I suppose he would've preferred something from the Queen II shoots instead, though it is rather funny for him to call a photo taken only a year prior a "very old picture of us".

But alright, surely the rest are concerned with things other than how they look...

(Left: Roger quoted in Record Mirror; Right: Freddie quoted in Record Mirror)

"Freddie and I used to sell old clothes. In fact Freddie used to design and MAKE our stage costumes. We've always taken care to make sure that our clothes are just right and look good. Perhaps they'd prefer it if we went on in dirty jeans, but we don't really think the public want to look at that. I think they'd rather see something that looks good." ... "Oh, really," [Freddie] exclaims in disgust, "this paper has no flair - I mean to print this picture three times in succession... and just look at my arms!" He was horrified, "look how fat they appear, now my arms aren't like that at all - what do you think?" He rolls up his sleeves for me to inspection and I'd like to state here and now that the poor dear's arms are quite, quite slender!

...okay, that's on me, I should've realized that the two fashionistas in Queen would have thoughts about their appearances and such. Or at the very least I should've expected Roger to bring up the Kensington Market stall! Poor self-conscious Freddie, but at least it seems like the interviewer reassured him about his arms!

Enough about clothes and photos though, I wonder what else the opinionated Roger Taylor had to say about the Melody Maker article?

(Above: Roger quoted in Record Mirror)

"That's exactly how we think it is," joined in their drummer Roger Taylor. "Supported by the fact that they've compared us to a totally new band who we've never heard of. We don't want to say anything against them, but apparently they're just a straight pop band. Whereas we've been playing and working up to this for years. Christ, I'm 24, Brian's 25, Freddie is 27, John's a bit younger 23. Plus the fact that we're all intelligent enough not to want to be put across in that way. We want to put our music first."

Honestly, Roger makes a really good point here. When the Melody Maker article was printed, Merlin had only been together in their current form for less than a year and had only released one single. Their first (and only) album wouldn't be released for over 6 months, and unfortunately they would be disbanded by this time the following year.

That being said, the emphasis on their ages is very funny to me because while Merlin might be a young band, the individual members weren't exactly far off from Queen's own ages and experience.

Their lead singer, Allan Love, was born in 1946 just like Freddie and had already been in the music business for seven years. The youngest member of the group was guitarist Jamie Moses, who was only 19 at the time, but even he had been performing semi-professionally for six years. In fact, all the members of Merlin had some degree of previous experience in other bands and the rest of them were right around 23-24 themselves, the same ages as Roger and John!

But speaking of John, what does he have to say about all this?

(Above: From Record Mirror)

By this time John Deacon (who reminded me of the Alice's doormouse) had woken from his slumbers (too many late nights and early mornings), he was reasonably cheerful for someone who had had his clothes ripped off the day before. "By the law of averages," he was saying, "it's someone else's turn to be ripped off today."

That's a lovely tidbit of wisdom at the end there, John, but what on earth is that about your clothes being ripped off?? Unfortunately there's zero elaboration on this in the article, so I guess it's just left to us to imagine.

So, any final opinions from the boys?

Above: From Record Mirror magazine

Phew! If after all that you think that the lads are hypersensitive to criticism and feel animosity towards their critics, then let Roger put you straight. "No, we don't hold grudges - we just go round and wrench people's arms and legs off. Or send them bags of wet cement, nothing too violent!"

Amazing response, perfectly executed by the one who would later refute a Rolling Stone article about Queen by writing them a letter on an airline sick bag.

Never change, Rog. Never change.

[sunnystaytiny2018]

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ATEEZ Fanfiction

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Fandom: ATEEZ

Pairing: ATEEZ x Fem Reader

Genre: Smuttttt -maybe a few more- tttt

POV: First Person

Additional Tags: Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Rough, Mean punishments, multiple rounds, squirting, orgasm denial, choking, spanking, biting, jealous sex, established relationship, 0T8 x Reader, g x b, blindfold, blow jobs, multiple partners at once, cum licking, creampies, cum swallowing

Requested by @yuyuyuyumesblog

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I have been really misbehaving lately. My boyfriends had been so busy that they didn't seem to have time for me anymore. So I started acting out to get their attention. Not rejecting someone when they are clearly flirting with me and dancing around with other guys. I still hadn't gotten a reaction out of any of them, considering they weren't there. Or so I thought. So why the hell were my boyfriends standing there in our living room like it was an intervention?

“Um, I'm home.”

“Why were you out so late?” Hongjoong questioned me.

“I went clubbing.”

“Without us?” Wooyoung demanded and I frowned, feeling anger bubble in my chest.

“Every time I ask you're too busy! Every last one of you!” I yelled, my eyes watering from frustration.

“Oh! So you just go and grind on some other guy?!” Seonghwa demanded and I was taken aback, Seonghwa rarely ever yelled.

“How did-”

“You think we didn't have an eye on you at all times?” San asked, as if that was the most outlandish thing to think. Hongjoong set his laptop on the computer and showed me a video of me dancing near a guy. I never actually grinded up on anyone, I didn't want anyone but one of my boyfriends. But I let them close enough to cause jealousy.

“Get your ass to the room and strip. I better find you waiting in position for your punishment, baby girl.” My heart raced. I quickly skimmed over everyone to find I would in fact be punished by every single one of them. Fear and excitement swirled in my chest. “NOW.” I jumped and quickly headed to his room.

“Yes, Daddy.” I whimpered. I tripped half way down the hall but I quickly got up and hurried into his room, not wanting the punishment to be worse than they already planned because I wasn't ready by the time they got here. I stripped all my clothes off and scrambled on the bed into position. I sat on my knees with my palms upwards on my thighs. My head bowed down, not daring to look up especially as my boyfriends came into the room.

“Oh good, she listened. I'm sure she already knows her punishment won't be easy, right Baby?” Jongho asked as he titled my chin up. I remained silent knowing I wasn't supposed to reply, it was merely a rhetorical question.

“Well, tell you what. How about…” Yunho whispered as he slowly pulled a silk fabric over my eyes. “If you can guess who is pleasuring you, we can switch to the next person. He won't get to cum. But if you make a wrong guess or don't guess within 15 seconds… you don't to get to cum and he does.” The idea made my heart race and my pussy ached. This might be the harshest punishment yet. They had never denied me orgasms for so long.

“Color?” Hongjoong's voice broke through the darkness of my vision.

“Green.” I replied as hands immediately guided me to lay down and spread my legs.

“First person.” Hongjoong said as the bed dipped and someone moved between my legs and rubbed his hands on my legs. My legs turned from the intimate touch. I sucked in a breath as I tried to focus. His hands weren't on the bigger side of the members. So Yunho and Mingi were out of play. When I felt their tongue delve into my pussy I let out a whimper. Okay, not Hongjoong or Wooyoung. They prefer eating me out after destroying me. I breathed in their scent.

“Yeo-Yeosang?” I stuttered out as my back arched into his tongue.

“Wow, very good, baby.” Hongjoong praised and Yeosang increased the speed of his tongue and pushed a finger into my wet pussy. I let out a desperate cry due to the sudden contact. I hadn't had sexual contact or action for a while.

“Oh Yeosang!” I moaned at his soft touches accompanied with the feverish licks of his tongue. My hands tangled in his brown locks as I felt my body jolt and tense. “I'm close, baby.” I moaned as he added a second finger increasing the pleasure. My back arched as my body released a gentle and warm orgasm. Yeosang had to pull himself away and someone new replaced him.

I felt his hands drag on my thighs and I bit my lip. I think I may already know who it is. I'm not saying all of them don't like my thighs but there is one specific one who loves them. He always touches and marks them up. Maybe I knew my boys better than I thought. I really started out thinking I would fail over and over. I felt his lips on my thighs for only a second before spreading my legs and immediately pushed into me.

I let out a cry at the stretching but I tried to focus on the feeling of his dick. I want to cum again, so bad. But this definitely wasn't who I thought it was, since he would have spent much longer than that on my thighs. I could only think of one of the guys who didn't do as much foreplay, not that I mind. Sometimes I just want a good fuck without the extra steps to work up to it. But then again I love the foreplay too. The nicest thing about having 8 boyfriends is each one of them can satisfy certain needs that the others may not be able to.

I let out a moan as he snapped his hips, pushing deeper inside of me. His rhythm was familiar, well of course it was. His rhythm is strong and almost harsh. Yep, I knew who it was.

“Who is it, baby?” Hongjoong asked as I felt fingers slip to my clit as his hips began to snap faster. Shit wait, it wasn't Hongjoong?

“I-I don't know! I thought it was you, I- W-Wooyoung?” I asked as he sucked in a breath.

“Incorrect, Honey. You don't get to cum.” Hongjoong informed me and I whined out. I already had an orgasm building since the one between my legs started rubbing my clit and fucking my pussy like it's the best thing he's ever felt. He finally let his voice out after I got it wrong.

“Fuck~ You feel so good.” Jongho growled in my ear and it sent shivers of pleasure through my body. His voice and groans are too sexy. My legs tensed as I tried to hold it back

“Color, baby?

“Green.” I moaned out, the shake in my breath making it clear I was teetering on the edge.

“Hold it, baby.” Jongho groaned as his pace increased and he withdrew his hand from my clit.

“I-I can't. I can't hold it-” I whimpered out as my abdomen tensed painfully.

“Yes, you can, baby. And you better not cum.” Seonghwa instructed. I could hear the sound of some of the guys jerking themselves off while watching. Soft groans coming from different parts of the room.

“You look so sexy getting pounded into, baby.” Wooyoung praised from somewhere in the room. “Squirming and trying not to cum.” Jongho thrusted deeper before spilling himself inside of me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I felt slight relief as he cummed inside of me. No longer having any stimulation that made my body want to orgasm. Jongho kneeled between my legs and looked down at me.

“I'll be back, baby.” Jongho purred and gave me a kiss before leaving the spot. It took a few seconds before the next person caused the bed to dip again. My legs were still trembling slightly from the previous stimulation but holding back the orgasm.

I felt the brush of jeans against my pussy and I smiled softly. This one I knew for sure. There was only one member who liked to have sex with his jeans still on. His hands squeezed and kneaded my sides making it even more clear that it was who I thought it was. His hands moved up to my breasts and squeezed them. A moan slipped out of my mouth at the dorm squeeze. His lips were on them, soft fluttering kisses around the nipples. Then his hot tongue was on my tits drawing out the loudest moan since this had started. I rubbed my thighs together as my pussy clenched. I moved my hand along his arms and to his hair.

“Mingi, please.” I moaned and I felt the smirk spread on his face.

“Okay, baby. As you wish.” He said as he began to rub my clit as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. My back arched at the feeling of his silver rings against my burning pussy. He began to suck harder on my nipples and I couldn't last any longer from the sensitivity.

“Mingi! I'm close.” I moaned before orgasming on his fingers. He pulls them out and he makes a loud slurping sound, telling me he just sucked his fingers clean of my juices. I shivered, feeling turned on all over again. God, Mingi was nasty and I fucking loved it.

“Next one, Sweetheart.” Seonghwa purred to me. I felt cum splatter on my stomach and a low groan from Yunho. I decided to do something sexy and I slowly trailed my hand from my breast to my stomach until I felt my fingers touch the now warm cum. I heard his breath hitch as someone else got on the bed. I scooped some on my finger and sucked my lips.

“Oh fuck, I can't. She's too sexy. I'm done playing this game. I need to fuck her.” Wooyoung growled from between my legs. He ripped the tie off of my face to see his feral look. He grabbed me by my thighs and yanked me down. “Fuck, you so pretty, baby. I might just cum in you the second I put it in.” He said before pushing into me. I let out a loud and desperate moan. Thank God, someone broke. I need them so fucking bad it hurts. I want to feel their cum leaking out of my pussy like their good little cum slut.

“Please! Fuck yes please, Woo.” I moaned as he began to fuck me. The other members joined us on the bed and hands were on me. One landed to hold my cheeks.

“Open wide, baby.” Hongjoong ordered and I opened my mouth obediently. Hongjoong smirked and pushed into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I choked a little before adjusting to his size as my body continued to bounce up from Wooyoung's thrusts. Moans escaped around Hongjoong's dick as I sucked on him like it was the tasty lollipop ever. I missed this. I missed them.

Mingi began to suck on one tit and Yunho joined in my other. The pleasure was too overwhelming as I orgasmed once more. Hongjoong began to face fuck me and someone nudged my hand with their dick. I didn't hesitate to take whoever it was. It didn't matter who it was. I wanted to pleasure them all equally. I used the precum from his dick and smeared it around and started to pump my hand as I squeezed my eyes shut, Hongjoong busting in my mouth. I swallowed it quickly and Hongjoong slowly pulled out to be replaced by Seonghwa. He slowly pushed into my mouth and allowed me to go at my own pace, throwing his head back in pleasure.

I orgasmed once more, encouraging Wooyoung to cum inside me. He was pushed aside and quickly replaced by San who began to lap my pussy up. The thighs were trembling and someone else began to kiss, suck, and bite them. I moaned around Seonghwa's dick as the one I was jerking off cummed on my face.

“Cumming~” Jongho warned before doing so. I squinted my eyes closed so I didn't get any in my eyes. By the end of the night, my body was worn and marked. My boyfriends quickly washed and cleaned my body and changed the sheets before allowing me to lay in the bed again.

“Thank you, Love. You did so good. We really needed you.” San said as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. I nodded as I snuggled into his arms.

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too.” Seonghwa said softly, giving me a soft kiss as well.

“You can sleep, sweetheart.” Hongjoong encouraged me as he tucked the blanket around my body. I nodded, already nodding off.

[crooked-wasteland]

When the fans think their ideas are so genius because they ended up in the show when, really, they are simply stolen from them in the first place and still lack any coherence.

The fire in Oops, for one, completely contradicts the show from Loo Loo Land. When Blitz gets thrown from the tent at the start of the fight, he lands in a crate full of Hellfire torches. Throughout the chaos no one is concerned about the very green fire all around them. Blitz is entirely unharmed and even his clothes don't burn. But I'm supposed to believe the fire killed his mother and that it's all Blitz's fault?

We see different types of fire in the Mammon episode with Fizz using blue fire that we can assume is relatively harmless. So why would candles in Hell use green fire and not blue fire? It just seems like a complete oversight, until you recall that a fire was the fan idea of what happened to Fizzarolli. Literally everyone and their mother was convinced and hyped over the idea of Fizz becoming injured in a fire, despite how insane a thought that would be when he still has his tail, the actual first thing that would have been injured and destroyed in a fire before his limbs. The addition of the explosion may have worked for Fizz's arms being gone, but not his legs.

Fans have ideas and Medrano merely regurgitates them without really thinking it through. So if you came to see Medrano's story, it isn't her story. It's a template of her story with other people's half-baked ideas thrown on top with not a single ounce of effort to flesh them out into a cohesive whole.

So when I'm told how much I should pity Stolas, I also know that comes from a fan seeing Stella throw objects (and servants) at him for cheating on her in her bed and that person not at all seeing such a reaction as the realistic and arguably appropriate reaction to being deeply betrayed. It was a fan who didn't care for the context of female rage or broken trust and felt bad for the waifish gay man who didn't raise his voice and thus must be that perfect little victim.

Which Medrano swan dives into such an interpretation without regard for how sane people would interpret that. Despite seeing the nuance of both sides and genuinely believing both can be terrible while also being sympathetic, I'm the one in the wrong for pointing out how Stolas just perpetuates abuse no differently than what was done to him? People who are actually adults and have experience with abuse, who also don't wallow in self-pitying narcissism have still not let this point go. And we never will.

This is why you don't just listen to your fans when it comes to a story. Because it shows how little creativity you really have when you can't fit it into your already established world.

Despite the unnecessarily long ask sent by the other person about Stolitz, they're not wrong. Anti-Stolitz (and Anti-Stolas as well) are disingenuous and ignore every tiny bit of deeper analysis regarding Stolitz that isn't crammed into "Stolas is an monster boohoo"

There is just so many wrong things that you guys talk that is baffling.

I'll just say to: cut with the whole Stolas mischaracterization, Blitz being used as an empty vessel for you guys project your own feelings into him and how he should react, also mischaracterize Blitz and his views, the twisting of Blitz's words and intentions towards Stolas is ridiculous.

As well as cut with the whole "retcon" talk regarding The Circus, which somehow is very common, this is just stupid.

I have no words anymore