#whisk it wednesday

[thequeensthroat]

biting back a really serious panic episode in a suburban dicks sporting goods let’s hear it for gender folks give it up for gender

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

🎵🎙️Enjoy the musical stylings of Mr. Wes Borland🎙️🎵

[so-much-longing]

(:

[hon3y-y]

Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 4

he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.

and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀

you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??

messages;

ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning

you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/

you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋

ryo<3: have fun 👍

omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.

he being satoru.

it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.

there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.

let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.

at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.

it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.

“did you buy the candy?”

“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”

“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.

he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.

“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”

us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—

“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”

*bonus*

sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;

but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️

a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶

*not edited*

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The one weird monopoly trick that gave us Walmart and Amazon and killed Main Street

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Walmart didn't just happen. The rise of Walmart – and Amazon, its online successor – was the result of a specific policy choice, the decision by the Reagan administration not to enforce a key antitrust law. Walmart may have been founded by Sam Walton, but its success (and the demise of the American Main Street) are down to Reaganomics.

The law that Reagan neutered? The Robinson-Patman Act, a very boring-sounding law that makes it illegal for powerful companies (like Walmart) to demand preferential pricing from their suppliers (farmers, packaged goods makers, meat producers, etc). The idea here is straightforward. A company like Walmart is a powerful buyer (a "monopsonist" – compare with "monopolist," a powerful seller). That means that they can demand deep discounts from suppliers. Smaller stores – the mom and pop store on your Main Street – don't have the clout to demand those discounts. Worse, because those buyers are weak, the sellers – packaged goods companies, agribusiness cartels, Big Meat – can actually charge them more to make up for the losses they're taking in selling below cost to Walmart.

Reagan ordered his antitrust cops to stop enforcing Robinson-Patman, which was a huge giveaway to big business. Of course, that's not how Reagan framed it: He called Robinson-Patman a declaration of "war on low prices," because it prevented big companies from using their buying power to squeeze huge discounts. Reagan's court sorcerers/economists asserted that if Walmart could get goods at lower prices, they would sell goods at lower prices.

Which was true…up to a point. Because preferential discounting (offering better discounts to bigger customers) creates a structural advantage over smaller businesses, it meant that big box stores would eventually eliminate virtually all of their smaller competitors. That's exactly what happened: downtowns withered, suburban big boxes grew. Spending that would have formerly stayed in the community was whisked away to corporate headquarters. These corporate HQs were inevitably located in "onshore-offshore" tax haven states, meaning they were barely taxed at the state level. That left plenty of money in these big companies' coffers to spend on funny accountants who'd help them avoid federal taxes, too. That's another structural advantage the big box stores had over the mom-and-pops: not only did they get their inventory at below-cost discounts, they didn't have to pay tax on the profits, either.

MBA programs actually teach this as a strategy to pursue: they usually refer to Amazon's "flywheel" where lower prices bring in more customers which allows them to demand even lower prices:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaSwWYemLek

You might have heard about rural and inner-city "food deserts," where all the independent grocery stores have shuttered, leaving behind nothing but dollar stores? These are the direct product of the decision not to enforce Robinson-Patman. Dollar stores target working class neighborhoods with functional, beloved local grocers. They open multiple dollar stores nearby (nearly all the dollar stores you see are owned by one of two conglomerates, no matter what the sign over the door says). They price goods below cost and pay for high levels of staffing, draining business off the community grocery store until it collapses. Then, all the dollar stores except one close and the remaining store fires most of its staff (working at a dollar store is incredibly dangerous, thanks to low staffing levels that make them easy targets for armed robbers). Then, they jack up prices, selling goods in "cheater" sizes that are smaller than the normal retail packaging, and which are only made available to large dollar store conglomerates:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/27/walmarts-jackals/#cheater-sizes

Writing in The American Prospect, Max M Miller and Bryce Tuttle1 – a current and a former staffer for FTC Commissioner Alvaro Bedoya – write about the long shadow cast by Reagan's decision to put Robinson-Patman in mothballs:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-08-13-stopping-excessive-market-power-monopoly/

They tell the story of Robinson-Patman's origins in 1936, when A&P was using preferential discounts to destroy the independent grocery sector and endanger the American food system. A&P didn't just demand preferential discounts from its suppliers; it also charged them a fortune to be displayed on its shelves, an early version of Amazon's $38b/year payola system:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

They point out that Robinson-Patman didn't really need to be enacted; America already had an antitrust law that banned this conduct: section 2 of the the Clayton Act, which was passed in 1914. But for decades, the US courts refused to interpret the Clayton Act according to its plain meaning, with judges tying themselves in knots to insist that the law couldn't possibly mean what it said. Robinson-Patman was one of a series of antitrust laws that Congress passed in a bid to explain in words so small even federal judges could understand them that the purpose of American antitrust law was to keep corporations weak:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

Both the Clayton Act and Robinson-Patman reject the argument that it's OK to let monopolies form and come to dominate critical sectors of the American economy based on the theoretical possibility that this will lead to lower prices. They reject this idea first as a legal matter. We don't let giant corporations victimize small businesses and their suppliers just because that might help someone else.

Beyond this, there's the realpolitik of monopoly. Yes, companies could pass lower costs on to customers, but will they? Look at Amazon: the company takes $0.45-$0.51 out of every dollar that its sellers earn, and requires them to offer their lowest price on Amazon. No one has a 45-51% margin, so every seller jacks up their prices on Amazon, but you don't notice it, because Amazon forces them to jack up prices everywhere else:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/01/managerial-discretion/#junk-fees

The Robinson-Patman Act did important work, and its absence led to many of the horribles we're living through today. This week on his Peoples & Things podcast, Lee Vinsel talked with Benjamin Waterhouse about his new book, One Day I’ll Work for Myself: The Dream and Delusion That Conquered America:

https://athenaeum.vt.domains/peoplesandthings/2024/08/12/78-benjamin-c-waterhouse-on-one-day-ill-work-for-myself-the-dream-and-delusion-that-conquered-america/

Towards the end of the discussion, Vinsel and Waterhouse turn to Robinson-Patman, its author, Wright Patman, and the politics of small business in America. They point out – correctly – that Wright Patman was something of a creep, a "Dixiecrat" (southern Democrat) who was either an ideological segregationist or someone who didn't mind supporting segregation irrespective of his beliefs.

That's a valid critique of Wright Patman, but it's got little bearing on the substance and history of the law that bears his name, the Robinson-Patman Act. Vinsel and Waterhouse get into that as well, and while they made some good points that I wholeheartedly agreed with, I fiercely disagree with the conclusion they drew from these points.

Vinsel and Waterhouse point out (again, correctly) that small businesses have a long history of supporting reactionary causes and attacking workers' rights – associations of small businesses, small women-owned business, and small minority-owned businesses were all in on opposition to minimum wages and other key labor causes.

But while this is all true, that doesn't make Robinson-Patman a reactionary law, or bad for workers. The point of protecting small businesses from the predatory practices of large firms is to maintain an American economy where business can't trump workers or government. Large companies are literally ungovernable: they have gigantic war-chests they can spend lobbying governments and corrupting the political process, and concentrated sectors find it comparatively easy to come together to decide on a single lobbying position and then make it reality.

As Vinsel and Waterhouse discuss, US big business has traditionally hated small business. They recount a notorious and telling anaecdote about the editor of the Chamber of Commerce magazine asking his boss if he could include coverage of small businesses, given the many small business owners who belonged to the Chamber, only to be told, "Over my dead body." Why did – why does – big business hate small business so much? Because small businesses wreck the game. If they are included in hearings, notices of inquiry, or just given a vote on what the Chamber of Commerce will lobby for with their membership dollars, they will ask for things that break with the big business lobbying consensus.

That's why we should like small business. Not because small business owners are incapable of being petty tyrants, but because whatever else, they will be petty. They won't be able to hire million-dollar-a-month union-busting law-firms, they won't be able to bribe Congress to pass favorable laws, they can't capture their regulators with juicy offers of sweet jobs after their government service ends.

Vinsel and Waterhouse point out that many large firms emerged during the era in which Robinson-Patman was in force, but that misunderstands the purpose of Robinson-Patman: it wasn't designed to prevent any large businesses from emerging. There are some capital-intensive sectors (say, chip fabrication) where the minimum size for doing anything is pretty damned big.

As Miller and Tuttle write:

The goal of RPA was not to create a permanent Jeffersonian agrarian republic of exclusively small businesses. It was to preserve a diverse economy of big and small businesses. Congress recognized that the needs of communities and people—whether in their role as consumers, business owners, or workers—are varied and diverse. A handful of large chains would never be able to meet all those needs in every community, especially if they are granted pricing power.

The fight against monopoly is only secondarily a fight between small businesses and giant ones. It's foundationally a fight about whether corporations should have so much power that they are too big to fail, too big to jail, and too big to care.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/14/the-price-is-wright/#enforcement-priorities

[roylustang]

Bro i was just thinking like two days ago about how i need some kind of light or reflector thingy to wear at night so cars can see me when i run and a cop literally just gave me one for free rn big win

[felidthing]

ive decied im going to gradually just buy a new monster flavor every so often when i go out. i have a list of every single product now. a plan of attack

[steviewashere]

I love you guys, so for WIP Wednesday, you get the first two and a half pages of my unnamed, but currently named "Steve Makes Eddie Apologize to Lucas for Not Postponing Hellfire for the Championship Game" fic. Uh, I don't think there's any warnings, but here we go.

You can read it here on Tumblr

Or you can read it here on AO3

——— “So, you and Eddie, huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he's been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair!” He yelps. Holds his right palm flat against his chest, trying his best to rescind the spike of panic that is crawling through him. “I thought I told you to quit doing that,” he harshly whispers, rubbing his palm against his shirt. The scratchy material of his polo a balm against his nerves.

“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”

Lucas shrugs. “You can do whatever you want,” he states, but Steve can already tell there’s somehow more. “But I didn’t think you two would be…buddies. Considering how he feels about, y’know, sports and whatever.”

For a moment, Steve considers Lucas’s approach. His fidgeting hands and his slightly closed off eyes. The hunch to his shoulders and the general unease that accompanies talking about Eddie. Which, that’s particularly odd. Aren’t they buddies, Steve questions himself. Wrapped up in the Hellfire club, their mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons, the ragtag group of nerds that they are—all of that is perfect for their oddball friendship, at least Steve thought so.

“What’s wrong with you and Eddie?” Steve asks, beating around the bush. He doesn’t do cryptic. And he especially doesn’t do it with somebody like Lucas, a kid already smarter than him by several margins.

There isn’t an answer right away. But Lucas’s shoulders drop. His eyes go from frustrated to…sad. “Remember my championship game?” He asks, though it seems a bit much of a topic change. What does this have to do with Eddie, Steve has to wonder.

“Well, yeah,” he answers instead, “I was there. Had a pathetic date with a girl I hardly enjoyed being around. Mocked Tammy Thompson with Robin. Watched you get that winning shot. It was a, genuinely, awesome championship game.” And that’s the truth. It’s the best one he’s ever witnessed. Which is saying something, considering he’d played several championship games. All of them, though, were major losses. He’ll take those to the grave with him, with how often his previous basketball teams teased him.

Lucas gives a harsh single nod, a small smile that whisks away as soon as it appears. “Right,” he mutters, “I remember.” He leans against the Beemer’s bumper, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. Looks forlorn towards the high school’s doors, where Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire bunch should be spilling out any moment now. Steve looks on with him. Listens as Lucas’s voice drops low, nearly angry, fully spiteful, “I begged Dustin and Mike to talk to Eddie about my game. To see if the Hellfire campaign—which would be happening the same night—could be moved. And I, look, I understand that D&D means a lot to all of them, it means something to me, too. But I was really hoping to see my friends there. If not my friends, then at least Erica.

“They didn’t move the campaign,” he states so bitter, Steve tastes the words on his own tongue, “apparently a game where you’re shooting ‘balls into laundry baskets’ is too…mainstream and norm-ie for Eddie. He refused to move his precious game. Then, get this, instead of getting some random kid to play, they egged Erica in.” Lucas drags his eyes away from the school, head turning slow to look at Steve. He follows suit, eyeing Lucas back. His stomach churns with the vitriol painting itself unsubtly across Lucas’s face. “Color me surprised, I guess, that he’s going out with a jock,” he states, voice carefully blank of anything.

Steve stares on at him. He didn’t know this was the case at all. Remembers getting the phone call about Dustin wanting him to play, but he figured that had something to do with him bugging Steve for the millionth time. Because that was something Dustin wanted. For Steve to play. And, granted, Steve refused because it was too nerdy—unimportant and embarrassing. Yet, now he’s looking into Lucas’s face. Where hurt etches itself like solid lines of chiseled marble. Being told, instead, that Eddie’s holding his own bias.

Maybe he hasn’t removed his biases towards high school nerds, not completely. But he’s coming undone from that mentality. Considering Nancy and Robin and Eddie—Dustin and Mike and Lucas—even Max, they’re all big nerds. They all have some sort of interest with Dungeons & Dragons or theater or video games and math. And he loves them all. Though, Steve’s never stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin. Tail-side, where balls in laundry baskets is considered taboo.

After a deep silence when Steve finally digests this information, his eyebrows furrow on their own accord. Mouth downturning into a harsh frown, one that he feels to the bottoms of his feet. He stops himself in time from balling his hands into fists, but the urge to do so snarls in him like a newly unmuzzled, wild dog. A dog, he thought, that he trained obedient away from his anger. But it seems like once the teeth are bared, they never truly hide away.

“That ass,” Steve snarks. “What—so I have to reconsider all my biases surrounding nerds, reconstruct how I view everybody around me, and realize how awesome it is. And—what—Eddie can just get away with that…bullshit? That’s…What the hell?” There’s a little bit more of a bite to his words than he had anticipated. But it really isn’t fair. The table turns and he’s better for it, sure, but Eddie just…That’s not fair. The dog growls louder, drool burbling in its chops, a bark forming in the back of its throat.

———

[violet-hearth]

Solid Perfumes and Balms Recipe

One of my favourite spell forms is something I can physically wear like a perfume, balm or body butter. Whilst this is not a recipe I favour (I prefer spray on perfumes and liquid oils), its one that has served me well in the past for glamours, anti-anxiety, and a little luck before job interviews.

Apply to your wrists and neck for a perfume, or use to create a creme makeup product such as a blush or bronzer.

Generic Recipe Base:

Always be mindful of irritants like cinnamon when creating balms!

1 tablespoon of oil (jojoaba or any other neutral oil)

1 tablespoon beeswax or emulsifier wax

OR 1 tablespoon of coconut oil or shea butter and 1/2 tablespoon of wax

10-20 drops of essential oils for a perfume (or add until desired scent is achieved), for more subtle scents 3-5 drops

1/2 -1 tablespoon of mica powder or mineral powder to colour

Melt together the wax and oil or simply melt down a dense, solid oil or fat like coconut oil, adding in vitamin E oil and mix well

Stir in essential oil (or oil you have infused with your herbs), add in your mica powder if you wish to colour it

Allow to cool slightly and pour into a slightly heated, wide rimed jar and let sit to solidify completely before sealing it - old lip balm tins, tiny jam jars and balm jars work well to store this

_________

Prosperity and Luck for Job Interviews:

Melt down your liquid oil and wax, and mix well

Stir in 9 drops of prosperity oil (ylang-ylang, lemon, basil and mint) - I like to add things in threes, so three lots of three

Allow to cool and add to a small tin or jar and allow to cool at air temperature

_________

Glamour Creme/Cream Blush

Met together shea butter and wax - more wax will make a thicker, longer lasting blush whilst more aloe will make a smoother, more subtle one

Add in aloe vera and a glamour or love/attraction oil (rose, apple blossom, lavender and jasmine - as this is blush only add 3 drops!) and whisk until smooth, taking it off the heat

Slowly add in mica powders and cocoa powder a tiny pinch at a time until the desired colour is reached

add to a tine or jar and let cool at air temperature

Adapt the recipes as needed for what you have and to your own practice <3

_________

(I will be sharing some of my generic grimoire recipes each Wednesday (hopefully) with the intent on letting people adapt the recipes to suit their needs ... )

_________

[steddieas-shegoes]

🪱 Wiggly Wednesday 🪱

cw: temporary character death (Eddie is alive and well in my heart and in every story I ever write don’t you worry)

steve doesn’t know why he still feels such a deep pull towards the trailer park. he thinks it’s because of max at first, but once max is awake and teasing him like she was never in a coma at all, he realizes that’s not it.

he feels…fluttery. like he can’t sit still, or focus, like he’s floating in the universe. like he’s waiting for something.

but he doesn’t fucking know what.

robin keeps telling him he should consider his feelings for eddie, how maybe the friendship they’d acquired meant a little more than steve initially thought. maybe steve has some internal deep-diving to still do.

but steve did that already. he concluded that he very much would’ve liked to kiss eddie on the lips with tongue. maybe forever.

eventually, he gives in and visits the trailer park. most people moved after everything, and eddie’s trailer is still neglected. his uncle moved closer to the plant as soon as he heard eddie was gone. trying to fix the trailer didn’t feel as important to him without his nephew coming home.

there’s no reason for the way his hands shake and his lips quiver as he walks up the porch steps. there’s no reason for his heart racing as he cracks open the busted front door. and there’s certainly no reason for his dick hardening the moment he catches a scent he recognizes as eddie.

the man is dead, dude. get yourself together.

but as he walks further into the trailer, closer to what was eddie’s bedroom before it got raided by the cops and ruined by people who thought the worst of him, the scent gets stronger. steve’s sweating. his breath catches and he nearly chokes on his own saliva.

eddie’s there.

eddie’s there in his bed.

alive.

and suddenly that pull he’s felt for so long makes sense, and he recognizes it for what it really is: some creepy monster connection.

“it’s about fuckin’ time,” eddie grits out. “i couldn’t leave here until you came.”

“what? how?” steve is so lost, so confused. “what’s happening?”

“what’s happening is that you and i both got some major shit to discuss with your friends. the bats gave us some kinda venom and i can hear every single thought you have.” eddie smirks. “which has definitely helped me pass the time.”

steve blushes because he knows exactly what eddie’s talking about. “you can hear my thoughts? why can’t i hear yours?”

eddie shrugs. “i guess my exposure was more so i have more powers? i dunno. but i love what you were thinking with the rope. that was clever. definitely up for it if you are.”

“can i please have a second to come to terms with you being alive before we start planning out my sexual fantasies?” steve rubs his hands across his face. “i don’t understand how you’re here.”

“probably the venom.”

“you seem way too calm.”

“i’ve had two months to find calm.”

steve looks around the room, sees wrappers on the bedside table and dirty clothes piled in the hamper. most of his personal belongings are still sitting at the police station, but his acoustic guitar and a notebook are sprawled in front of him on his bed.

“you’ve been here for two months? alone?”

“with your thoughts, yes.”

“so you-“

“yep.”

“and when i-“

“uh huh.”

“and you’d want to-“

“most definitely.”

steve nodded, sure of himself for the first time in a long time. “can you leave here now?”

“probably. why? you gonna whisk me away to your castle so we can pleasure each other in the moonlight?” eddie’s teasing grin should annoy steve, but he’s gone too long without it and he thought he’d never get to see it again. “quite sappy, aren’t you?”

“if you promise to never refer to sex as pleasuring each other, i’ll definitely take you back to mine.”

“i’m sorry. would you prefer the term making love?”

“yes, actually.”

eddie’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t tease. “then we should…go…do that.”

steve leans down to kiss the corner of eddie’s mouth, shocking both of them with how quickly and naturally it happens.

“should we bring a blanket to cover you in the backseat? until we figure out what we need to do to keep you safe.”

eddie wraps a blanket around his shoulders and stands up. “lead the way, my liege.”

[r0ttenhearts]

You Promised

scaramouche x reader, modern au.

angst, insults, no comfort

being scaramouche’s friend was.. challenging. having to put up with his snarky comments, sometimes cruel behavior, but you loved him. you had been his friend since childhood, trailing behind him even in high school. but if it wasn’t you who else would it be? scaramouche had a history of not getting along with your peers, always having to apologize for him and the things he says.

in a way you were dependent on each other. he counted on you to keep him company and out of trouble, and you cared deeply for him that you only wanted to spend your time with him. so then came the promise. the promise to go to college together and become roommates, leaving behind your broken families and tragic pasts as you both planned to go into adulthood together.

but somewhere along the way he started acting.. different. it was the last year of high school and the time to apply to college was coming up. you nudged scaramouche as he was drifting off to sleep next to you.

“hey! scara! wake up. we haven’t picked out a college yet.”

“i don’t care.. just pick something and i’ll manage to find something i want to do.” he grumbled.

you shake your head as you click on several websites until deciding on one. now all that was left was to find student housing on campus. you figured you’d do that with scara once he was awake.

watching him sleep felt almost comforting. his usual smirk off of his face and replaced with a relaxed expression was refreshing. even in his sleep he would find tranquility. a tap on scaramouches shoulder broke your trance as you watched the blonde girl shake him awake.

of course it was lumine. scaramouche yawned as he nodded up at lumine, her hands on his as you watched him being pulled out of the classroom by her.

it seemed like ever since she had come along he had kept his distance from you. your usual friday sleepovers turned to afternoons on wednesdays with lumine taking up his time on those days.

what was so special about her?

sure she was.. beautiful but what did she have that you didn’t?

she hadn’t known scaramouche since practically birth like you did. she hasn’t been the one to comfort him when his mother would say the meanest words to him.

so how?

how had she managed to whisk him away from your life?

you sighed, packing your bag as you knew better than to wait on him. you already knew he’d be walking her home rather than you.

once you got home you sat at your desk, hearing bloops as you put your headset on. it was scaramouche, messaging you if you wanted to play minecraft. you joined the call as the both of you played minecraft together.

you felt happy.. finally an afternoon when he wasn’t with her. he was having fun with you instead.

oh how you missed these days.

“hey scara, how do i cut this? this mod is confusing..” you struggled with cutting a tomato with a new food mod he had added to your server. he was silent on the other end of the call before he spoke, scaring you as you just stared at your monitor.

“archons.. how annoying could you be? you ask me for help with every little thing.

i get it your small brain can’t comprehend basic common sense, but do you have to bother me for everything?

and you want to go to college? when you can’t even figure out how to cut something on fucking minecraft?”

you stayed silent as he went on a tangent about how he really thought of you. your hands off of your keyboard as tears slipped from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks.

“i cant believe i promised to go to college with you. you know— i didn’t even want to. i just said it because i pity you. i know how much you need me when i don’t even need you. it’s so fucking funny to me how the ONE normal person in your life can’t stand you. but there you are, always following me around like a sick puppy.

it’s pitiful y/n it really is.

and you know what? i’m going to go to college with lumine instead. she’s so much more tolerable to be around than you. she doesn’t blab to me about the smallest shit i couldn’t care less about.

i know the way you look at me and i promise you i’ll never feel the same. id rather die then spend another lifetime with you.”

you choked back a sob as you grit your teeth, yelling a “fuck you.” into your mic as you shut off the server. you sobbed into your hands as you heard numerous pings coming from your dm with him.

scara: oh now you’re gonna cry? little y/n finally grew some balls now huh?

scara: too bad for you. you’re alone now. lumine was here beside me watching your stupid little outburst. have fun facing us in school for that next few weeks.

scara: don’t forget who made you. you would’ve stayed the same loser you were back then if it weren’t for me.

scara: you’re nothing

scara: you have no friends for a reason you whiney bitch

you screamed, holding onto your mouse as you clicked the bright red block button over his profile. angry tears leaked from your eyes as you pulled out your phone, blocking him on all of the social media you had him added on.

how didn’t you see it? you knew he was becoming distant but you didn’t think he hated you.

your heart ached at the thought of your life without him. the reminder that he had chosen lumine over you felt like being stabbed.

but had he ever cared for you? the same thing way you did him?

how did the once sweet, shy scaramouche turn into this monster you couldn’t recognize?

you spent the rest of the school year alone. avoiding his and lumine’s gazes every time you walked into the classroom. you’d ignore his comments and his constant need to throw small wads of paper at you.

you never thought you’d be on the receiving end of his cruelty but here you were, loud laughs as lumine pointed at you while they stood together.

how you wished to get away from them as soon as possible.

once it was graduation, you didn’t bother showing up to the ceremony. instead you picked up your diploma from the front office. you were finally going to get the fuck out of there.

you got home and packed your things, you had picked a college in a foreign region. sumeru, the nation of knowledge.

you smiled as you boarded your flight, no one to greet you off as you sat there. a feeling of relief washing over you as the plane took off.

“goodbye to the boy i once knew, and the home that wasn’t really home.”

part 2

[widowbitessting]

Sugar Mommies Season 2, Pt:6

Polite Reminder That All My Work - Especially For Sugar Mommies - Is 18+! Minors Do Not Interact.

“Hey darling, are you busy?”

You look up at Carol with a glare, pink barbie toothbrush in your sweaty palm; white bristles blackened from the grout you were being made to clean. 

You bite back the urge to swear at her, instead opting to force a toothy smile to your face. 

“Not really no, why?”

Carol, ever so smug, leans against the door frame with her arms crossed. 

“Are you sure, kitten? You seemed hard at work when I came in.”

“What do you want, Carol?” You can’t help the bite in your words. 

You’re really not in the mood.

“Oh stop pouting, princess; you earned this punishment yourself.”

She may have a point there. 

Carol continues on, “I warned you not to push me. And what did you do?”

“I didn’t listen, obviously.”

“Lose the attitude or I’ll have you clean the sidewalk too.”

“…sorry.”

A raised eyebrow makes you continue your apology. 

“Sorry Captain, I’ll stop being a brat.”

“There’s my good girl.” Carol crouches in front of you, balancing perfectly on the tip of her toes. You really have to fight the temptation to push her over. 

God. Your inner brat is thriving. 

“Tell me, my good thing. When do your classes finish?”

You brush some loose strands of hair from your glistening forehead. 

“Finish? For break?” 

“No love, when do you finish for the weekend?” 

“Oh!” 

“And did I say you could stop working? You’re still in your punishment, darling.” 

You automatically go back to scrubbing, pushing the bristles of the toothbrush into the cracks between the tiles a little more harder than needed.

“Answer the question, baby. I know that dumb brain struggles to comprehend simple questions sometimes but c’mon; I know you can do it.” 

“I…” You have to wrack your brain to think, “Wednesday. I think. I’m sure my Friday classes are cancelled.” 

“Think you can find out before the end of the day for me baby girl?” 

You look up at Carol and nod. 

“Sure. Why the rush?”

“I’m thinking of whisking you away after your last class until Monday. Does that sound good?” 

“A holiday?” 

“A mini one, yes.” 

You jump up and grab Carol into a hug, toothbrush clattering to the floor behind you.

She wraps her arms firmly around you.

“Where are we going?” 

“Do you really want me to tell you or do you want it to be a surprise?”

You don’t do well with surprises. 

At all.

“Just tell me!” You pause. “Please.” 

“Such a good girl, using her manners.” Carol presses a kiss to your nose. “I’m taking you to go and see Nat and Wanda.” 

You squeal so loudly you’re sure only dogs can hear it. 

Carol seems to be prepared for it as she doesn’t wince, instead choosing to grin down at you. 

You’re all but vibrating with excitement.

“We’re going to see them?!”

“Yes, sugar. Thought the news would cheer you up. Get you to stop pouting.”

“I wasn’t…” You trail off, fighting the urge to push out your bottom lip.

“Yes you were, my darling. Such a pouty little baby, hmm?”

She’s doing this deliberately. 

You’re already in trouble - your current predicament proves this - and Carol probably has another two, if not three, punishments already thought out. 

You’re really stumped at how to reply. 

Mercifully, Carol decides she has toyed with you enough.

“How about this: the sooner you finish your punishment, the sooner you can speak to Natasha and Wanda. I’m about to go and call them to discuss our trip…it’d be a shame if you were too busy pouting and being grumpy to speak to them, wouldn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Get scrubbing, little girl.” 

“But I’ve only done half!” 

“Scrub fast.” 

She leaves you and the bathroom and you can only stare after her.

A second later, you hear her shout, “They have a present for you too, bunny!”

You perk up at the mere mention of a gift. 

“A present?” You call out, peering out of the doorway as Carol saunters away.

“Mhm. although, if you’re not there on the call with them then they might just return it…” 

You know she’s lying.

Heck, a toddler would be able to tell she’s lying. 

“You’re bluffing.” 

Carol turns to look at you. 

Her face is smug. 

So.

Freaking.

Smug.

“Try me sugar; see where that gets you.”

*

It’s safe to say, you never want to clean grout ever again. 

Your knees are throbbing, back sore like an 80 year old woman who's worked every day of her life; and you’ve cracked enough nails to know that Carol can pay for your next manicure appointment. 

You might even throw a pedicure and a chiropractic appointment in there too. 

But does that stop you barrelling out of the bathroom at full speed, with the toothbrush clattering behind you?

No. 

It does not. 

When you stumble into the room, Carol is saying her goodbyes and is about to press the hang up button.

“I’m here!”

“Timing on that, baby girl; you almost lost your present.”

You go to tear her phone from her hand but Carol moves it just out of your reach.

“Say please.”

“Please, Captain.”

“Good girl,” she pecks your cheek and hands you the phone. “You talk to them and I’ll inspect your work. Make sure you didn’t cheat and take any shortcuts.”

“I’m offended you’d ever assume I’d do that.”

The smirk on your face makes Carol roll her eyes and tap your nose. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay! The bathroom is glistening.” You say. “Take your shoes off!”

The faint “No!” has you giggling as you place Carol’s phone against your ear.

“Hi!”

“Well hello, naughty girl.” Natasha’s voice fills your ear. 

Your smile is officially cemented to your face. 

“I -”

There really isn’t any point in denying it.

“Yeah.”

Natasha tuts at you. 

“My, my, what are we going to do with you, hmm? A good grout scrubbing is a fairly decent punishment…but I know for a fact if I asked you to FaceTime us right now…you’d be smiling. You haven’t learnt your lesson, have you, kitten?”

“…I have…kind of.”

“Mhm. That really is believable.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Then switch this to a FaceTime kitten. Prove me wrong.” 

Those final three words really are like the nail in your coffin. 

They grate down your bratty side, taunting and teasing you, and it makes your eye twitch. 

There’s no denying that Natasha did it purposely. 

In fact, you know she did. 

She knows how it works on you. 

Knows that you’ll be her good little submissive and do as she says.

Natasha knows you better than yourself at times.

Which is why, the second you press the FaceTime icon on the screen, you know you’ve made a huge mistake.

Natasha’s perfectly beautiful face comes into view, as does Wanda’s.

You can see them.

And they can see you.

Your eyes automatically lower in submission, smile sliding off your face. 

It doesn’t go unmissed by Natasha, eyebrow raising slightly as a smug smirk forms on her lips.

“Well, hello there, little brat.” 

“Hi…”

“Use my title.”

Your brain takes a second to buffer.

“Your…huh?” You risk a peek up and quickly look away again.

“My title. Just like I trained you to do.”

“...daddy.”

“Now use it in a sentence. Go on, kitten.” 

“..hi daddy.”

“There we go, pet. That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Natasha says, “we miss you, pumpkin.” 

All humiliation is quickly forgotten.

“I miss you two, too.” 

“But we will see you soon!” Wanda shouts, jumping up and down. “Wednesday, Carol says.”

“That’s in like 3 days!” You let out an excited squeal and flop down onto the bed, your h/c hair fanning out around your head. “I don’t think I can wait that long.” 

“Well there might be something to help…ease your tension, baby girl.” Natasha says. “Check under the bed for me?” 

You had completely forgotten about the gift.

“Oh!” 

You leave them on the bed as you dive underneath, snatching the gift bag before resurfacing with it clamped tightly in your hands. 

“I love presents!” 

“We know you do, baby.” Natasha smiles.

“Open it, I can’t wait to see what you think!” Ever Wanda the impatient one. 

You tear into, gift paper soaring over your head and as you reach into the bag, you tilt your head in confusion. 

“What is it?”

You inspect the wrapped package.

“It’s a toy.” Natasha says.

“A toy?” 

Looking back at this moment, you’re ashamed of how long it takes your brain to connect the dots and figure out what kind of toy it is. 

“What? Like a My Little Pony?” 

“No but it’s something else you can ride.” Wanda says with such a straight face, her joke washes over you.

“Oookay…” 

You tear the paper open and all but drop the box as if it electrocutes you, when your eyes see the word ‘g-spot’. 

“Oh my god.”

You’re red. Blushing crimson as you hastily cover your face and let out an embarrassed laugh. 

“You owe me $5.” Wanda says smugly. “I knew she wouldn’t act cocky.”

“Is that what I think it is?” You mumble, still hiding behind your hands.

“A sex toy?” Natasha says. “Yes, yes it is. We want you to try it out for us. Now.” 

That makes you peek up through your fingers. 

“Now?” 

“Yes, baby. Now. We haven’t had the time to play with you in so long. We miss you.” 

“I - I miss you but, on camera?” 

“You can do that for us, can’t you?” Natasha is staring at you. “If you’re uncomfortable, remember your signals, my love.”

“I - I’m okay, I just…”

“Shy?” Wanda asks. 

You look at the toy again and can’t help but smile in embarrassment. 

“...yeah…” 

“It’s just us, baby girl.” Wanda says. “You’re with us, you’re safe.” 

“Why don’t you open the box, hmm?” Natasha suggests, “have a look at what we got you.”

Your hands are shaking. 

Because why wouldn’t they?

The item is pink. 

Soft to touch, incredibly soft in fact. 

You keep the toy on your lap, so the two women watching you intently can’t see it.

“It’s big.” 

“It’ll fit, don’t worry. Once you’re worked up and ready to take it, it’ll fit.” 

“Can you read the name out for me?” Natasha asks.

You quickly look up and meet their eyes. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m selfish and I love to see my baby girl blush, that’s why.”

You push your face into your hands in an attempt to hide. 

“The G -” 

“Nu-uh.” Natasha stops you. “Let us see that beautiful face.” 

You shake your head.

“No?” 

You shake your head again.

“Look at me and say no. Go on, detka.” 

“I…can’t.”

“And why not?” 

“‘Cos…” 

“Wow, such a good reply. Stumped us there, baby girl.” Wanda’s reply makes you smirk, even though you try your hardest not to. 

“Now you’re ignoring orders?” Natasha’s voice wipes the smirk clean off your face. “Look at me and repeat what you said. Last chance, Y/N.”

“Hey!” Your head snaps up and you shoot the redhead a glare before quickly looking away. “Don’t full name me!” 

“She just did, sugar. Answer her. Now.”

You - somehow - manage to drag your eyes to Natasha and for one brief second, you hold her gaze.

And then quickly look down. 

Submitting. 

“That’s what I thought.” Natasha licks her lips. “Now show your doms your beautiful face so we can see that pretty little blush.”

You do as you’re told, even if your bottom lip is sticking out a little. 

“There she is.” Natasha smiles. “Our blushing beauty.” 

“I’m not b -” You sigh. “Okay, fine, I am.”

“And we love it.” Wanda says. “Think you can read it out for us?”

“Signal in, detka.” Natasha orders. 

“Green…I’m just…”

“Shy, we know, my love, we know. But you’re okay. If you don’t want to read it out you don’t have to.” 

“I want to. Believe me, I do.”

“Go for it then, sweetie. At your own pace.” 

“The…um…the G-Spot Massager…” 

“God, you’re such a good girl.” Natasha coos. “You did so well for us, honey.” 

“Do you think you wanna try it out for us?” Wanda asks. 

You meet their eyes.

“Yes.” 

[tiredfox64]

Hi!!!! I loved your bi-han x chubby reader stories and wanted to make a request please!

I was hoping to request a Smoke x chubby reader where the reader is a baker of Madam Bo's and is the sweetheart of the village and Insecure about her body. The rest would be up to you. Please and thank you!

Sweet Honeybuns

Prior notes: Mhm mhm I like this. Good energy. Love when I get to project myself. I love that man I just know he would love to cuddle a woman like me

Pairing: Tomas x Chubby Baker! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: I'm sorry if you start craving my b

Oh, that face. That beautiful face of yours. Those gorgeous eyes that he could get lost in. Those adorable cheeks that he would love to caress and kiss. That lovely, plump body of yours. The way your hips move hypnotizes him. You move throughout the bakery part of the tea house swiftly, trying to put more cakes in the display window. Your hair was put up nicely to prevent it from blocking your view and getting in your face. Your pretty, well-kept fingers were wrapped around the whisk as you began to beat the egg whites before adding the other ingredients in to make the perfect meringue. Tomas already knew you were making your meringue cookies since you make them every Wednesday. He loves your meringue cookies, they’re as sweet as you. He loves everything you make. Oh heavens, he loves you.

“Tomas!” Kuai Liang yelled right into Tomas’ ear.

“Huh?!”

Tomas was spooked at first before he started to blush hard. He was caught in the act again. He was caught staring at you with that lovesick expression. Elbow resting on the table, chin resting on his hand, the generic lovesick boy pose. We can’t forget about that dopey smile. It’s a shock that he wasn’t swinging his feet. Kuai Liang knew what was going on. Everybody in the Shirai Ryu knew. If they go to the tea house at least once with Tomas they get to see him go into that daze again. Every single time it’s like clockwork.

“You should ask her out soon. It won’t do you good if you continue to keep your feelings in.” Kuai Liang suggested.

Tomas immediately nodded his head no. He really, really, REALLY likes you. But he’s afraid that you will reject him. It’s a normal fear. He thinks you are out of his league. You’re just too sweet. You probably already have a line of men ready to be your boyfriend. You’ve already captured the hearts of many with your baking. With the addition of your kind personality, you’re basically as sweet as the cannoli you make.  You’re a sweetheart in everyone’s eyes. To the men and women, young and old. Everybody must want a chance with you. They must all be as desperate as Tomas is.

Though there were few who were interested in you, you had your heart set on one man. Your heart was set on Tomas. He was so kind to you and he brought you so much joy to your week. He took the time to talk to you. It didn’t matter what there was always something to talk about. It would go on for so long that Madame Bo would have to yell at you to get back to work and she would scold Tomas for distracting you. Though she found it cute how you two were so lost in conversation. She encouraged you to establish a relationship with him but you always said you can’t, you just can’t.

Truth be told you so badly wanted to ask Tomas out but you were afraid of many things. You were afraid of rejection, fair enough. You were afraid of making things awkward between you two and that you would see him less after that, that’s also fair. Lastly, you were afraid that he wouldn’t like you because you are…chubby.

Now hold on just a sec, that’s not fair to you.

Yes, you were worried he wouldn’t like a girl like you cause of your body type. You looked at yourself negatively. You treated your stretchmarks as if they were a curse. You believe cellulite is unnatural. You think you need a thigh gap to get his attention. You feel like your belly will scare him away.

Oh poppycock! Excuse my language. But what you think, and I’m saying this because I care about you, is bullshit. Imma prove your sweet ass wrong.

You saw Tomas coming your way. He gave you a quick wave and you gave him a smile. Gosh, his heart might explode after seeing that.

“There’s my favorite man. What can I get you for today?”

Yup, his heart just exploded. He loves that you call him your favorite man. He’s not just another customer to you and that makes him feel special.

“Can’t I come up to talk to my favorite lady without having to buy anything?” He teased. Now your heart was exploding. He is smooth when he isn’t trying.

“I would allow you to do that but you know how Madame Bo gets when I stop working.”

“Fine, I’ll bite. Do you have anything special this week that you can offer to your favorite man?”

“Well we have coconut cream pie, flan, conchas, baklava, peach cobbler, liu shao bao, bublania, tiramisú,” on and on you went.

That’s something else he likes about you. You have desserts from all around the world. But damn does it make it hard to decide what to buy from you. He lowered his head as he struggled to pick something from you. Pick for him, the man is struggling.

“How about I get you some flan? I think you will like it.” You walked over to the display window, pulled out the flan you recently made and cut him a big slice.

You brought him the plate with that delicious, syrupy goodness on it. You scooped him a piece of it and tried to feed it to Tomas. You looked so adorable to him at that moment. Looking up at him with doe eyes while waiting for him to open his mouth. He opened up and ate the bit of flan that was on the spoon. The creamy custard was practically melting in his mouth with the caramel top hitting his tongue soon after. He just found his new favorite dessert.

“I love you.”

“Huh?”

“I mean I love it!”

Tomas stumbled over his words. He meant the first thing he said but also didn’t mean to say it in that moment. The goodness of the flan messed with his mind and made his heart swell with love for you. You know what they say: the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. You already captured his heart a long time ago but this instance made his heart become caged by you. You will never release it even though you never knew you had it before.

He asked you how much it was but you told him it’s on the house since he was so handsome. You sly dog, flirting with him effortlessly while he was already spiraling. You left him blushing while walking back to his table. The moment he sat and placed his plate down he rested his head on the table. It’s over for him. He’s so madly in love with you. You got him so bad he forgot to make an effort to ask you out while he was up there. Kuai Liang started patting his back. Brother needs to support his brother.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

It was near closing time. Most customers have left and almost all the waitresses were gone. Finally, some peace. You decided you deserve a treat after baking all day and serving customers. Time to munch on the mistake pile. The pile of slightly burnt cookies, lopsided muffins, and double-glazed bear claws.

You only really eat when most people are gone. If you give yourself a treat, even just a bite of a banana muffin, others think it’s typical of you. It’s tiring to hear people compliment your desserts only to immediately say you should slow down on eating them yourselves. You barely ever eat your own work since you have to save it for the customers. You know it’s unhealthy to make it a habit of eating your mistakes which is why you balance it out with healthy and balanced meals. You eat well actually. Yet some people think you intentionally make mistakes just so you can eat. How could people be so ignorant and rude when all you ever do is give. You give and give and they appreciate it but they still have something to say.

Whatever, you’re alone. You started nibbling on some cookies, enjoying yourself for a bit before turning around and seeing Tomas was near the counter. You immediately hid the cookie behind your back like a guilty child.

“Oh, I thought you would have gone home already.” You said.

“I would have but Kuai Liang said I had to do something or else he wouldn’t let me leave.” Tomas chuckled awkwardly as if it were a joke but it was serious. Kuai Liang would not let Tomas come home until he confessed to you.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you. You can keep eating your cookie if you want.”

You were hesitant to do so. You just nodded your head while putting the cookie away. Tomas got worried that he had upset you. He didn’t mean to be rude even though he did no wrong. He leaped over the counter to get closer to you and apologize.

“I’m sorry if I upset you—”

“No, no, it’s alright. I just…don’t like eating in front of people.” Your voice got quiet near the end.

“Oh, I’m guessing you get anxious?” He asked.

“No, I just…don’t like when people comment on my weight when I eat. I don’t want you thinking I'm a slob or something.”

That hurt Tomas to hear. He didn’t know people were making backhanded comments towards you. Now that he thinks about it even when he has stayed at the tea house for a long while he never saw you eat in front of anyone. He was hoping that you weren’t starving yourself throughout the day just to prevent people from making comments about your weight.

“I hope you don’t think you are one because you’re not. I could never think of you like that. How could I think something so negatively to a girl that I want as,” He paused for a second before finally having the balls to say it, “my girlfriend.”

You looked at him in shock. His girlfriend? You? Did you accidentally take a bite out of your “special” cookie because you can’t believe what you just heard.

“Me? Why me?” You asked.

“Why you? Why not you? You’re incredibly sweet and hardworking. I’ve never seen so many loving eyes on one girl before. Everything you say to me makes me want you even more. I was afraid a lot of people had their eyes on you and I was afraid I would lose you to someone else. That’s why Kuai Liang told me to confess now. I just really want you in my life. You’re the only girl who has made my heart feel like this—this tingly feeling that reappears every time I see you.”

His words were so genuine you found it difficult to disagree or fight back on anything. His eyes were practically twinkling as he looked at you, waiting for a response. He was nervous that you would actually reject him. He was picking at his nails and he was biting his lip slightly.

“You mean, you still want to date me even though I’m,” you pointed to your chubby belly.

“So?”

Yeah, so what?

Don’t break his heart. If you do, you end up breaking your heart as well. It’s as clear as the night sky that Tomas really wanted you to be his girlfriend. It didn’t matter your size. He wants to love you and cherish you. He wants to kiss and caress you all night long. Do us all a favor and accept his lovin. It will do you both good. You know you want it.

“Well, you got me there. I can’t argue with that. I guess you just earned yourself a girlfriend and some double-glazed bear claws.” You smiled widely.

Tomas was beyond happy. He immediately hugged you and started to kiss you all over your face. Gosh, your skin was so soft against his lips. He could do this for hours. But you’re right, he did earn himself some bear claws.

You both sat around, eating your mistake baked goods together. You both were all smiles. There was a warm feeling that resonated with you. This has got to be the best day ever. Well if it wasn’t for Madame Bo slapping the back of Tomas’ head and yelling at him to leave already and stop eating the sweets. He booked it out of there while laughing, promising to return tomorrow.

Ain’t he just the sweetest?

After notes: Halfway through I ate a coconut cream pie to get motivation. I don't even like coconut but it hit! I feel like a jackass for making flan the favorite dessert in this fic. Idk why I'm not sending subliminal messages to make y'all want it. Ah whatever. Adiós!

[jessieren]

3% NW is a winner for me…

3%NW

Continuing @jessieren's 3% Naked Wednesday theme.

This is a favorite of mine—from endeavourneverland of course.

[360iris]

For me, the vibe drastically shifts when I think of the moon knight system individually—

Like there’s Steven, who’s very sweet and accommodating. He’s easy going but just the right amount of snarky that never fails to make you snort with laughter.

He’s the kind of person I’d want to go to Starbucks with and order a large refresher only to walk around Target for a good two hours like it’s the mall or a farmer’s market.

Steven is Tuesday nights spent sprawled out on a modest sized couch, the two of you wrapped under a large blanket and trying to be respectful of each other’s space as you’re both self conscious of how much space you’re taking up.

But eventually, your calves are touching and ankles are interlocked as you’re leaning over him to get something off the end table.

It’s him standing at the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth and intently listening as you rambunctiously complain about obnoxious coworkers and customers over the noise of the shower running, shampoo being massaged into your scalp and rinsed from your hair.

He’s the partner you spent your adolescence daydreaming about.

And then there’s reserved, calculated and partially measured Marc. He’s quiet in an attentive sort of way, the type of big, semi-permanently grumpy guy who’ll take mental notes of literally everything that has to concern with you.

For example, he’ll pinpoint the exact pieces in your wardrobe you’re more inclined to pull out and wear before anything else in your closet— and he’ll always be sure to have washed, folded and returned them to their drawers so that they’re ready for you to pull on again at the end of the day.

It’s the kind of act of service that’s so subtle, you don’t realize he’s been doing it for months.

This man will fully memorize your go-to restaurant orders and act like it’s simply a coincidence when the waiter arrives and he’s just finished flawlessly reciting what you want, for you.

He knows what things you tend to somehow always forget to pack in your purse for work and will neatly line them up on the kitchen bar so that you couldn’t possibly miss them (you still forget to take them though… and after a while, he just starts packing your work bag for you. It doesn’t take long and he finds it’s nice that it gives him something to do.)

Marc is Sunday mornings spent baking cupcakes, lining the counters with different flavored box mixes, eggs and large ceramic bowls. Splashes of vanilla extract, tins smeared with butter and coated in flour for easy removal. The smell of sweet chocolate icing filling the air.

The two of you taking turns alternating from dish duty to prep. Pressing indulgent kisses in between his shoulder blades as he whisks eggs into oil and water like the yellowy yolks owe him money.

The way you serenely clean up behind him— a little spilt cake mix here, or broken eggshells there— doesn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated. The small gestures really go miles for him.

Marc wordlessly gives out tender pecks, against your temple or at the nape of your neck just because. He’s comfortable silences and fingers warmly intertwined.

He’s the man you find yourself stealing glances at when you think he’s not looking, wondering how you got so lucky.

And last, but never least, there’s Jake who’s hardy, spartan and disciplined. A true product of his environment and circumstances. Someone who learned from their oppressors and surpassed them in their capacity for brutality. The thing about Jake however, is that he has a great proclivity for gentleness as well.

Jake is Wednesday nights, the two of you undressing layer by layer, garments piling into a neat stack to later be placed into the laundry hamper. Jake resting his chin over your right shoulder, his arms wrapped around your middle as you fold your pants and his shirt.

He’s knelt alongside the white garden tub, his hand under the running water from the facet, adjusting the temperature as needed. Eucalyptus scented suds and bubbles fill the space around you as your back rests against his chest.

With his hands brought around your front, he peels one of the set of three clementines you’d brought from the kitchen. Hand feeding you segmented pieces to be lazily gnawed at, soft sloshes and splashes sounding at your feet as you wiggle your toes in the comfortable silence. The two of you exchanging hushed mumbles.

He’s cold nights with chill air slashing your cheeks, a steady chocolate stare he fixes you with as you shuffle in place in front of him. His neck craning as he leans forward, a gloved hand encasing your hands clasped at your mouth and moving them aside— his lips pressing against yours wordlessly.

He’s the protector you only ever heard about in passing stories.

[elizais]

hey elizai!! can u do smthn like what event starts the topic of kids and whether they want them or not with bsd boys? (pref dazai, chuuya, and tecchou! they are cutiesss) thanks !!

"kids?"

featuring.. dazai, chuuya, nd tecchou! warnings.. ?? i don't get to like reader x ----- talking ab having kids, jst bcs i feel like that would set me up for "blah blah blah wouldn't want kids, but blah blah would!!"

in all honesty, osamu and you had never truly thought about kids. maybe intense debates on what names you hated, compared to ones you thought were cute - but other than that? not really.

so, on an average day at the agency a married couple were brought in to talk about something they witnessed the other day. kunikida and tanizaki were going to speak to them and they had to bring along their small children as they didn't have a babysitter for that moment.

it was honestly no biggie for anyone at the agency, a pair of twins might lighten up the dreary wednesday anyways. when they walked in, everyone greeted them (aside from ranpo, who was in another city for a few days.)

a boy by the name of isamu and a girl by the name of hana were left under your supervision with the help of atsushi. their parents were whisked away to the conference room to explain what happened the other day.

"so, what are your names?" atsushi smiled at the pair as you walked over to osamu at his desk. the two didn't seem to respond to the boy who was crouched down at eye level for the children.

hana and isamu wandered over to your boyfriend and you and asked quite a few questions. chipping atsushi's pride slightly at the kids not wanting to speak to him.

hana pulled on your boyfriend's sleeve before asking him "what's your name?" quietly. osamu looked at her, smiling and ruffling her hair, "osamu dazai, and you both?"

"isamu! he's almost got the same name as you!" the girl giggled at her shy brother. the boy seemed to gravitate towards you more than your boyfriend. "hana.. they told us to be quiet whilst they speak to the detectives!" isamu scolded his sister.

"oh, we're not actually detectives!" osamu begun, shocking you with how good he was with kids. "we're superheroes.." he whispered to the two kids.

you giggled as he began making up stories for the two, and them asking off topic questions.

"how is the moon still in the sky when it's daytime, dazai?"

"because i put it there. duh."

"do you and that lady have kids?"

"not right now."

"why are some people blonde and others brunette?"

"because blonde haired people control the weather and brunettes control night and day."

and soon enough, they went home with their parents. but that 'not right now' lingered until you arrived home with osamu. laying on the couch with his arm around your shoulders, he whispered into your hair.

"today was fun with those two." a sentence that he kissed into the crown of your head, a simple hum in response from you. something was on your mind.

"what are you thinking about, love?" he flicked your forehead. "if we had kids.. y'know?" you whispered.

"well i think kyouka does look up to you an awful lot, do you not see that?" he readjusted to face you. sitting cross-legged on the couch facing each other, hands in his, you spoke. "yeah, i do. 'm just thinking. i do love the family at the agency though."

dazai elaborated for you.

"fukuzawa's the grandad with like the secret lore he doesn't tell anyone about.. yosano's the wine aunt.. ranpo is the uncle that gets too into board games.."

you interrupted him, "atsushi's the housecat that racks up a fortune in medical bills."

as dazai was laughing, you added on, "and you and chuuya are the in-laws that end up drunkenly fighting." to which he nodded through laughter.

"yeah but chuuya makes a fortune so we can't frustrate him too much.. he has to pay for the family get-togethers.." he giggled.

chuuya was no stranger to young parents in the port mafia. today was one of the most important days of the year for the port mafia, a big deal was being signed today so all hands had to be on deck to make sure there was no funny business.

he called you in to keep him company while he was bundled up in his office reading over hundreds of pages of paperwork. you were lying on the couch, helping him by rereading what he had read to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

"chuu? do you want a drink?" you asked, finishing another dozen pages.

"if it isn't too much of a hassle, doll." he sighed, looking thankful at your offer. promptly, you stood up and closed the office door behind you and made your way to a staff room on whatever floor his office was on.

you nodded to the stressed workers that saw you, knowing how much chuuya speaks about you to them. you walked into the staff room and saw a young child.

"hello, can you help me, please?" the young boy spoke. chocolate brown hair covering his forehead - he must have not been older than seven. "of course! what do you need, kiddo?" you asked him as you made a cup of coffee.

"my parents work here but they are very busy today so i had to come in, but i don't know where they have gone. can you please help me?" he asked politely, shocking for someone raised with the mafia.

"of course! do you know who their boss is? i can find their boss with you and find your parents." the child thought for a moment at your question, brows furrowed in concentration.

"they said that he's not tall.. orange hair and a hat. i think." he spoke. you snorted in laughter at the description, the child not knowing he was describing your boyfriend.

"yes.. i know him..!" you giggled, offering a hand to the child. you grabbed the cup in your other hand and walked to chuuya's office. you arrived and walked in, opening the door with your back due to both hands being full.

"hey chuu.. i made a friend! do you know his parents, they work under you, love." you asked as you put down his coffee and ruffled his hair. he looked at the kid and laughed at the situation you were in.

"hey shoyo, your parents brought you in today?" he asked, clearly having met the kid before. shoyo nodded and chuuya looked back to you.

"his dad should be in office 17f." he smiled at you, he looked at the kid again, still holding your hand. "do you want me to check where your mother is, she might be with kouyou?" he asked the boy.

"no, thank you mister. i'll hang out with my dad. he thinks you're really cool, by the way!" the kid smiled up at your boyfriend, the interaction made your heart melt.

"does he now? let him know i will approve his vacation request then." chuuya winked, chuckling at the conversation.

maybe when you two go home you are both laughing a little harder at videos of kids, or smile a little brighter at cute photos.

your boyfriend, tecchou, has a day off today. and you had promised your friend that you would watch over her kid for a few hours. koushi was a quiet kid and already knew you, so it would be dead easy.

however, you didn't want to miss out this day with suehiro. so, he came along with you. you explained to him koushi didn't talk much but was sweet, so it would just be making sure that he doesn't accidentally hurt himself whilst his parents aren't home.

"how old is he?" suehiro asked, driving the car towards their house. "eight, i think. you two will get along, don't worry." you reassured him.

you decided to not tell him yet that the kid was very similar to him and had his own ant farm. koushi also adored the hunting dogs, so you knew once you got the two quiet boys talking they would get along brilliantly.

once you arrived, you opened the door with your spare key and greeted the kid, your slightly timid boyfriend following you. "hey koushi! i brought 'hiro!" you chimed, the blonde boy holding out his hand to shake suehiro's. his parents had already left, knowing you would be just a few minutes behind them. you watched over koushi every couple weeks anyways.

suehiro did not expect the boy to be this polite yet he shook his hand nonetheless. "hello" your boyfriend spoke. you decided to ease up their awkwardness as you took off your shoes and put them in their respective caddy.

"so.. koushi.." you began, both of the boys looking at you as you walked to the living room that belonged to your friend, who wasn't here right now. "still got that ant farm?" you asked. knowing your boyfriend's face just lit up even though you weren't looking at him.

"yes!" koushi gestured for the two of you to sit down as he ran to his room to get his ant farm, clearly excited with his interest on the insects.

'hiro turned to you as you sat down. "you didn't tell me he likes ants!" he whispers, eyes wide. you nodded with a grin on your face, "he also thinks the hunting dogs are the coolest people ever.." you sang, knowing the kid will freak out when tecchou starts talking about his job.

when koushi carefully comes back down, holding a kid's ant farm, tecchou speaks up. "you know, ants have two stomachs. one is to hold food for themselves and the other is for sharing food with other ants." tecchou says, admiring the colony of ants the boy has brought downstairs.

then, the pair continue talking about ants for hours until koushi's parents come home. his mother thanks you and his father asks tecchou about any upcoming missions.

"just a lot of paperwork left over from the last one." tecchou smiles at the older man. "the less fascinating side of being a hunting dog, i suppose!" the father jokes. koushi gasps.

"you've been here, for five hours.. and i didn't know you're a hunting dog?!" koushi stares up at him with wide eyes. your friend invites you to stay for dinner, koushi not wanting you to leave because he wants tecchou to tell him everything about being a hunting dog.