#yes it’s 5am that I’m posting this

[mushgloomz]

going on a date tonight with a man 📉

going a date tonight with a man to see gladiator II so i can watch marcus acacius say ‘my lady’ on the big screen 📈

[aimseytv]

people who are weird about artists sharing their own OCs make no sense to me. if you support an artist and you don’t bother getting into their own original art with their own world building and characters you’re missing out! it’s so fun to see artists i follow going down paths with their own OCs and creating a world with their own lore, side OCs and everything i find it fascinating

[yourlocalabomination]

HI YES EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO INSANE!!!

Should I be working on stuff rn? Maybe. Am I instead thinking about and drawing stuff for @yourlocalabomination's Time Bastard/The Stanley Parable au concept? Yes. Am I sorry? No :)

[violetarks]

“baby keep talking, but nobody’s listening!”

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: gojo satoru, choso, fushiguro toji

summary: they find you on a date with someone they've never seen before, but they don't need to look for long to see how bored you were. deciding for you that it would be the first and only date you ever went on with that man, they come to your rescue.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is on a date with a man, said date sucks ass (trying to regulate what y/n eats, snarky comments, egotistical, rude to hospitality workers), shoko/itadori/shiu help set you up on a date but they suck at it

↣ gojo satoru

"satoru, you have to get out," you huff at him, crossed arms over your chest. he sat on your cough, flicking through tv channels. "my date is coming here in ten minutes!"

"you mean the stranger that shoko met at the mall and said would 'totally be your type'?" he says, looking over his shoulder to you. you raise a brow. "c'mon, blow him off. we need to finish 'the last of us'!"

"don't you dare watch it while i'm gone, satoru, or god so help me—" your phone rings, interrupting your threat. you answer when you see the number of your date. "hello? oh, yes, this is y/n."

you begin to walk to grab your keys and your bag, satoru following after you when you suddenly stop.

"oh, uh... you want to meet there?" you say, tilting your head, "no, that's fine, i'll leave now. see you—..."

"he's not coming to pick you up?" satoru questions, watching as you take out your car keys.

"he's actually already there. and he's ordered for me." you say with a bit of doubt in your voice. satoru can hear it. "it's fine, i should go now. don't you dare watch that show, i will kill you. see you, satoru."

the whole time you're gone, he can’t do anything. he’s sitting in silence for an hour, not even looking at his phone. he felt angry at himself.

so he followed you, obviously.

he looked up the restaurant you had mentioned to him before and saw the pictures posted online. it looked like such a nice first date place. and that boiled even more jealousy in him. of course he had to follow you.

and luckily he did; you looked miserable.

he takes out his phone as soon as possible.

“you know how many calories are in that meal?” your date said after the waiter left your table, “way better for you than what you wanted.”

you had just told him your favourite dish in the menu. and he told you he ordered you just a salad. while he got two meals because he was ‘bulking’.

when shoko showed you his instagram, you had to admit that he was cute. he was fit too, and you did your fair share of exercise. he had a nice smile and he also posted photos of his dog. but that couldn’t shield you from what was right in front of you.

you found out he was a model for a magazine you’ve never heard of, and while that was impressive, it was his whole personality. you asked about his pet, and he somehow turned it back to his career and how he did a fireman themed calendar last year. you’d think he was surely more than that, but it didn’t seem it. you had barely talked about yourself. it didn’t look like he was interested anyway.

“hm, what did i do today?” he thought out. you cringed at the way he tapped his chin, pretending to think. “i hit the gym at 5am, walked my pet for an hour and a half, took some photos for my resume since i’ve got a new deal coming up, and spent time from then to now just at the studio.”

you were waiting for him to ask about your day. he doesn’t.

“and you know, i’m actually the most valued model at my studio. they always call me for shoots, i’m always first on their list. you’d think i could catch a break every so often,” he chuckles out, rubbing up and down his arms. you hold back from rolling your eyes as you sip your water. “but it’s hard being so… handsome.”

you stare at him and fight the urge to roll your eyes once again.

"what about you?" the moment you've waited for comes a little too late. you're not even interested in speaking about yourself.

"well, i did some grocery shopping this morning—"

"what did you buy?"

"me and my friends are having a movie tomorrow, so i just bought some snacks for us," you explained for some reason, "chocolates, popcorn, chips—"

"junk food?" he scoffs back, "no, no, you don't need all that. you oughta' bring it back and get some fruit. way better for you."

you down the rest of your alcoholic drink you had ordered (the one thing he did let you choose) and look away.

that is when you feel a hand rest on your upper back.

"excuse me, ma'am," you look up and widen your eyes when you see satoru standing before you. he's wearing a white button-up, black slacks, dress shoes and a black waist apron. you freeze up. "the gentleman over there asked me to give you this, already paid for."

you look over to where he was pointing. nanami sits in his own suit as he waves his hand at you, pained smile. satoru places a mojito in front of you. your date stands up.

"the hell? doesn't he see that i'm here?" he scoffs as he stands up. his chair screeches against the floor, which collects everyone's attention in the restaurant. "he's insulting me! what a prick! i'm gonna fuck him up!"

"hey!" you stand up as he begins trudging over. satoru places a hand on your shoulder to stop you, and you see nanami roll his eyes and stand up as well, ready for the fight. "what are you two doing here? and why are you dressed like that?"

"i'm the ultimate undercover agent, of course," he replies. he begins pulling off his apron and dropping it on your seat. he hooks his arm with yours and smiles. "let's get outta' here."

"but my date—"

"he's fine," you watch as nanami dodges one of his punches with and irritated face. "nanami will take care of him."

you let him whisk you out of the restaurant while everyone is watching the two men fight (not really). satoru walks you to his car and starts the engine. you see nanami's car behind his.

"did you seriously bring him along to get me out of that date?" you chuckle as you stare at him. satoru purses his lips and looks away. "thank you, satoru. you didn't have to."

"you're welcome, gorgeous," he responds to you, "i could tell from the phone call that he wasn't all that. wonder what barrel they fished him out of."

you let out a small sigh and look out the window. you were embarrassed; this was the first date you've ever been set up on, and it went horribly. you knew you should've left earlier, not wait until satoru came along. he was your saviour for today, you had to admit.

but what was even worse, you seemingly let than man talk to you like that. you could chalk it up to just being friendly and giving him the best benefit of the doubt, but deep down you know you would never have let that slide with people you know. hell, yaga could speak to you that way and you would still give him an earful.

"don't be sad, y/n, now we can go to yours and watch our show," satoru attempts to cheer you up. he flashes you a smile. "i promise, i won't eat all your food."

"you're a liar, satoru." you laugh back.

"seriously though, that guy was a wreck. why did he keep talking about calories and stuff?" he mumbles out with a disapproving shake of his head, "i had to shut him up somehow. i should've just spilt the drink over him."

"oh god, what about the food? i didn't pay for my meal."

"you mean the salad you didn't want? i cancelled it for ya'."

"why aren't you this nice all the time? you usually bully me." you claim in a joking matter. satoru pouts at you. "i appreciate this, a lot. i guess guys who only ever think about themselves aren't my type."

there's a quietness in the car as he turns on his indicator. you enjoy the little noise coming from the radio, a song that you've heard quite a lot.

"you know, yuuji, nobara and megumi?" he clears his throat.

"yeah?" you respond to him in confusion.

"yeah," he hums with a nod of his head, "i think 'bout them a lot. they're good kids."

"they are," you agree with him. it takes you a few seconds before you look at him again. "satoru, that's not what i meant."

"so am i your type?"

"oh my god."

"answer the question, y/n."

↣ choso

"yuuji?"

"yeah?"

"do you know who this is?" choso shoves his phone into his brother's face.

"uh, that's y/n." yuuji responds in a bit of confusion. the two of them were sitting in a new restaurant with ramen on their tables. choso’s sat nearly untouched for the past ten minutes as he flicked through some pictures you sent to a groupchat with him in it. yuuji was halfway through chewing noodles when choso asked him about the photo you sent a few minutes ago. “why? she looks good.”

“no doubt,” choso mutters in response as he zooms in on the other figure in the picture you took of your reflections in the window, “i mean him.”

“oh, that’s the guy who me, nobara and y/n saw last week at the movies,” yuuji responds, “he asked y/n for her number, so i think they’re out together right now.”

he looks at yuuji in disbelief as the pink-haired boy starts slurping on the soup. it takes him a few seconds to properly react.

“are you serious?” choso says a little loudly. people turn to stare at the pair. “you let him get her number?”

“what? he seemed cool and y/n didn’t seem to mind that i gave it to him.” yuuji holds his hands up in defense as choso angrily glares at the photos on his phone screen. “you said you weren’t gonna’ make a move on her anyway!”

“that doesn’t—” a groan leaves his lips as choso holds his head. he lets in a deep breath. “okay, it’s fine.”

“i’m sorry, choso.”

“no, it’s my fault, i did say i wasn’t going to ask her out,” he tells yuuji, who slowly goes back to eating, “i… i missed out, i guess.”

yuuji frowns as the guy in front of him sadly eats his food.

“you know…” he begins with a small smile. choso looks up to him. “they’re just out for lunch nearby. y/n told me where they were going. we could—”

“yuuji! hurry up!” choso has grabbed his jacket and is rushing to the door before yuuji can reply, “we might miss them!”

yuuji scurries out of restaurant after he gobbles down his ramen. it isn’t too far of a drive, actually. it took about 15 minutes to get there and choso had easily spotted your car in front of a cozy cafe. he parks next to it and almost ducks when be notices you in the chair facing the window, facing the two of them, with your date sitting in the booth — your favourite spot. choso always let you sit in the booth side.

choso clutched onto the steering wheel with gritted teeth. yuuji looked towards you to get a better view.

“huh… she looks annoyed.” yuuji points out.

“this guy…” choso grunts.

inside the cafe, you had taken a few photos of your food and your drink. you’re glad yuuji suggested this place, you loved the service and the food here. the servers were always so nice and helpful and quick, and the food was amazing too.

it was obvious to you that your date didn’t think the same.

“god, everything in here is so…” he begins as he examines the design on his waffles. he cringes a little. “girly.”

“it’s just a bunny design,” you point out as you sadly stir the cat-shaped foam into your hot drink, “it’s cute.”

“it’s embarrassing,” he reiterates. you purse your lips and sip your drink. the delicious taste was enough to make you forget his sour tone. until he speaks up again. “can’t believe your friend told us to go here.”

“i love this cafe,” you state, “everyone here is so nice.”

“the service is slow and they gave me the blueberry waffles instead of the normal ones like i said,” he complains. you set your drink down and hold back from rolling your eyes. “i don’t care how busy you are, you always check five times that the order is correct.”

you don’t even reply to him after that, only trying to enjoy your meal that you paid for. he wasn't helping at all. you thought that because he was so charismatic when talking to yuuji that he was probably a good catch, but you couldn't have been more wrong. maybe he was just putting up a front in order to score you. you really shouldn't judge a book by its cover anymore.

"hey. over here," he begins to snap his fingers and nodding at a server with four full plates of food. the guy looks over frantically, obviously under pressure. "i wanna' ask you something."

"ah, right, give me a second, sir—" the guy was trying to distribute the food with the customers who he was serving.

"i told you, slow service," your date scowls towards you. could you be any more embarrassed right now? the server finishes off his task before coming over to you two. before he can even ask, your date is holding up a nearly empty cup of coffee. "this is the most bitter coffee i have ever had in my whole entire life."

"oh, well, you ordered an americano, sir," the poor server explains, "they tend to be bitter."

"what? no, no, no," the guy in the booth starts shaking his head, "i ordered a flat white."

"you..." the server begins. he was the one who had taken your order too.

"you ordered the americano, actually," you pointed out. the guy raised a brow at you, unamused. "it's okay, you can just order a flat white—"

"god, i did not order an americano." he claims.

but you distinctly remember him saying 'americano' for his drink. and the server repeated the order back to him before it was confirmed annoyedly. you stare down at his nearly empty cup.

"y'know what? just put the flat white on the tab, i will pay for it." you sigh out as you rub your neck.

your date looks more pissed off as the server leaves.

"he was wrong, you don't have to pay for another drink." he mutters out.

"it's nothing, don't worry." you retort and stare back down at your food. you didn't have an appetite anymore and a few minutes pass in silence.

the flat white comes out after such a long time of waiting. your date drinks it quietly, but you notice that he makes a face to show he doesn't like it. you quickly excuse yourself to go and pay at the counter for your food (he insisted on splitting the bill since he didn't like the place) so that you don't have to hear him bicker about it.

"hey," you turn behind you to see choso standing there in a baggy hoodie, a bit nervous, "fancy seeing you here..."

your eyes flicker to outside, where you see yuuji waving at you from choso's car. a smile lands on your face.

"nice to see you, choso," you mutter back as you fish out your wallet. the cashier rings up your total and you press your card to the reader. "how was your lunch with yuuji?"

"good. we cut it short to save you," he bluntly says. you blink as he glares at your date. "i don't like the guy you're with."

"me neither," you sigh out, "i think this is the last time i'll see him. but i gotta' tough it out for the rest of the date."

"you could just leave now." choso adds. he looks at you with furrowed brows.

"ah... i'm not that confident—"

"a takeaway box and takeaway cup, please," choso asks the cashier. she had been sitting there and silently agreeing with you that the guy you were sitting with was a total jerk. "thank you."

he places them in your hands and pushes you gently towards the table.

"who the hell is this guy?" your date scoffs and glares at choso, who does the same back.

"look, i'm not really having a good time on this date," you say as you play with the takeaway boxes. choso hastily takes them from you and fills it with your food in an organised matter. "i think this is the farthest we go. please enjoy the rest of your food, though."

"you serious? ditching me for some jackass?" he accusingly points at choso who wears a shit-eating grin on his face. "this is bullshit!"

"calm down, god..." you groan and rub your temple, "i just don't like you, you're so rude."

"me? you're the one who dragged me to this shithole!"

"shut your mouth before i drop you right now," choso scowls as he pushes the guy back into the booth seat. everyone was watching now, quietly thanking choso for showing up and dealing with him. "grow up, man. you act like a child."

choso grabs your hand and tugs you out of the cafe. you both thank the service with your takeaway in hand. yuuji gets out of the car with a wide smile once you two get closer.

"so, how did it go?" he asks with wide eyes.

you throw your keys at his chest.

"you're driving my car back to my apartment as punishment for setting me up with that asshole," you say with a small frown. you all knew you didn't really blame him, though. "never giving my number out to anyone ever again."

yuuji apologises thoroughly before getting into your car and driving off in the wrong direction. choso opens your door and gives you the food. once he's inside the car himself, he starts it up and begins driving.

you rest a hand over choso's on the middle console.

"thanks, choso," you sigh out, "i should've done that earlier."

"it's fine, y/n, i just wished i came sooner." he replies.

you stare at the side of his face, how irritated he looked just thinking about your date. a smile settles onto your lips and you brush your thumb over his knuckles. he falters and looks back to you for a second before muttering a 'what'.

"i'll take you out for dinner as a thank you," you state, which makes his ears go red, "you're a sweetheart, choso."

"i... uh, yeah, i'll go out with you," he mutters, "thanks..."

the laugh you let out is worth ruining thousands of your dates.

↣ fushiguro toji

"have you ever been to france?" the conceited finance guy in front of you asks, fixing his tie. he wears this smirk on his face that proves that he just knows how rich he was. he wasn't coy at all. you force a smile and shake your head slowly, trying to enjoy your meal at least. "really? that's a shame. i've been plenty of times before, and i've gotta say, the best part is..."

you begin to zone out, sighing to yourself as you move your pasta around on your plate haphazardly. he had chosen such a nice italian restaurant to absolutely ruin your perception of this guy after the first ten minutes of talking to him. you look to your watch, showing it had been only two hours since your date started.

cursing out shiu in your head, you cautiously look out the window to the sky. it wasn't that dark yet, but it felt like your night had been taken away. your mind wanders to yesterday to your conversation with shiu.

shoe

you're getting picked up at 5 tomorrow

y/n

am or pm?

shoe

???

shoe

don't show him how stupid you are, he's a rich guy. maybe he'll bring you to a yacht

y/n

why would i want to be on a yacht for our first date? is he nice?

shoe

he's rich, y/n. that's all that matters.

sometimes, you wonder how he managed to meet all these people. but then you remember that assholes attract assholes. they move together in flocks.

you stare at your red wine and tap your finger on your cheek.

"what do you think about it?" he questions, getting your attention again. you look up to see his smug face. did he really want to know?

"oh, me?" you asks, sitting up straight. you had no idea what he had been saying for the past 15 minutes.

"well, who else would i be talking to, silly?" he says in this mocking tone.

'yourself, it's who you've been talking to all night', you internally say. you had wasted such a nice outfit too. it was such a shame.

"mmm, well, it's a bit—" you begin, only to get interrupted.

"it's insane, isn't it? how could you lose so much money in only a year?" he barks out a laugh, as obnoxious as he was. the table shakes as he bangs his fist against it, waiters and guests looking towards you two. "it's absolutely preposterous! i would never make such a decision like that."

you chew out an awkward laugh before turning to your wine, sipping it.

unknowingly to you, toji was waiting in the car outside the building, getting a good view of you and your new date. he cursed shiu in a huff; not only did he set you up with someone, but the guy was a total prick. he couldn't have done a worse job, and he was broke. he pulled his seat back, watching him with pointed eyes. that guy's mouth hadn't stopped moving ever since you entered the restaurant.

and you? you looked gorgeous, your dress hugged you just right, so much so that he was jealous. toji knows it should've been him to go and take you somewhere like this.

he snaps when the guy calls the waiter over, complaining about his half-eaten food and causing a scene. you looked so uncomfortable. standing up, you excused yourself to the bathroom. and toji is quick to get out of the car.

"he's such an asshole." toji claims as you exit the ladies room. you freeze, pressing out the creases of your dress before walking closer to him at the end of the hall.

"when did you get here?" you ask, hand on your hip, "and how do you know he's an asshole?"

"been watchin' the whole time from the car," he tells you, watching as you widen your eyes and tilt your head at him, "what? couldn't help myself. shiu said you were on a date with some rich guy, 'n i had to see it."

"yeah, well, remind me to kill shiu. he's got the worst taste in men." you sigh out, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall with him. he peers at you. "you know he asked to try every single wine they had before we ordered? and he complained about the merlot not being darker. not only that, he saw my plate and said 'are you gonna' eat all of that?'. the dickhead!"

"that shit looked good." he commented, shaking his head, "who wouldn't finish that food."

"right? ugh, i hate him so much. and he hasn't even asked me about myself other than my name. he explained to me his 'entrepreneurship' and dropshipping. wanted to clock him in the face." you complained more, only fueling toji's own hate for the man.

he lifts himself off the wall, grabbing your arm and dragging you with him. "go 'n get your things. we're gettin' out of here."

"what? what am i supposed to say to him?" you mumble, stumbling behind him, "where are we going?"

"don't say anything to him. if ya' feel bad, pay for your own food." he explains to you, hand moving to rest on your back, "i'm not lettin' you waste that pretty little dress on someone like that guy."

you stare at the back of his head before falling into step with him, stopping at the table with your date. he does a double take once he sees toji, slowly standing up.

"who's he?" he asks, scanning him up and down.

"none of your business." toji retorts, looking down at him.

you begin to grab your purse when he holds out his hand to you. "where the hell are you going?" your date asks you.

"here. for my food." you say, handing him a fifty. the note flutters onto the table in front of him, which he stares at in awe. tugging on your jacket, you stare back at him with furrowed brows. "good luck in life."

with that, you turn around and begin to walk to the exit. behind you, toji sticks his tongue out at the other man and follows after. his hand finds your back once more and you wait to cross the road, sighing out to him, "thank you, toji. saved me."

"no problem." he replies, opening the door for you.

"how did you get in my car?" you ask, sitting in the driver's seat.

"don't ask." he tosses you the keys, making you wonder even more. he gets into the other side, looking back at you. “we’ll hit up that restaurant downtown. the one you always talk about wanting to go to.”

“but you said you don’t like their cuisine.” you claim, starting the car.

“it’s the only place i know that’s fancy.” he explains, looking out the window.

“sweetheart, i wouldn’t say that’s fancy—”

“do you want to go out or not?”

you laugh, reaching out a hand and holding his. he gives a small smile before looking back at you. “thank you, toji.” you say, stopping at a red light. you glance at him, sincere look in your eyes. “it means a lot that you care.”

“jus’ saving you from being stupid as fuck.” he tells you, making you roll your eyes and snatch your hand back, “could ya’ not tell he was a tool when he didn’t knock at your door? motherfucker waited in his car.”

“my god, you’ve been watching since then? toji!” you jokingly reprimand, looking at him for a split second, "i should've known from the start though... he was on his phone the whole time, in the car ride. on bluetooth speaker too."

"i woulda' jumped out the car." he retorts, shaking his head, "we should jump shiu."

"we really should." you laugh, smiling at him, "maybe for our next date."

toji can't help but roll his eyes. he knows deep down that you were hoping shiu was going to set you up with him instead. he can see it on your face, a smile that is pushing through on your lips. you're secretly happy that it was toji who 'ruined' your 'date'.

"i say that because i know you can't pay for dinner."

"did you think i was paying for this one?"

you scoff back, elbowing him, "you leech."

"you know you love me." he says it teasingly, but he knows better than anyone that you actually do.

[vampyrial]

Sugar

summary: cooking for someone is the sweetest expression of love.

pairing: mark grayson x gn!reader

content warnings: soft yan!reader, poisoning, gaslighting, caretaking, fluffy if you ignore that reader is a lil crazy

author’s note: I never posted this here but in honor of s2 of invincible, here’s this fic I wrote after s1 😵‍💫 my first mark fic

Mark remembered his mom making pancakes on the weekends. It was his favorite breakfast when he was a kid. There was less time for sit down breakfasts as he grew older and spent more time outside the house working, going to school or hanging out with William, it remained a nostalgic thing for him. The smell of butter, the sizzle of the batter hitting the hot pan, he hadn’t realized he missed it.

Not until he woke up to the clattering of pans downstairs. Debbie was out for the day already, busying herself with work. As of late, the house had become stifling and she felt ill at ease. Mark was mostly left to his own devices for food and Mark being Mark, mostly subsisted on take out.

You had slept over (in the guest room, per Debbie’s request) and woken up early to make breakfast. Into the dry ingredients, you added a vial of powder as white as flour. You sprinkled it all in, hand inside the bowl, careful not to let it spill anywhere. You mixed carefully. With a focus as complete as ever, batter dropped onto the pan, sizzling. 

“Making breakfast?” His voice almost made you jump. You thought you were used to him sneaking up on you.

“Good morning to you too, Mark” You smiled to yourself, not looking up at him. “And yes, I’m making you pancakes.”

You didn’t look up but you could tell he was surprised by the pause and the awkward shift of his silhouette.

“I didn't…I know I only eat out these days but I don’t need you to cook for me, I feel kind of like an asshole watching you cook for me in my own house” He mumbled, looking away.

“I know I don’t need to, I want to. I’d feel better if you didn’t eat pizza everyday for breakfast.” 

“It’s not everyday, just…most of the time” He was embarrassed you’d noticed. “Are you not gonna have some?” He changed the topic. 

“I had four bowls of captain crunch at 5am, I’m not exactly sure more sugar is a good idea for me right now.”

You flipped the pancakes onto a plate, sliced a pat of butter onto the top and poured the syrup. Mark, even in his quest to be somewhat gentlemanly, could not resist. The first bite of the buttery pancakes drenched in the syrup evoked strong feelings. Longing, gratitude and love. The yearning for an innocence abandoned and the feeling of being loved was so strong he could cry.

Mark, like most teenage boys, could eat. You silently kept cooking pancakes and he kept eating them. It was a lovely morning, the air was sweet and the sky was a vibrant blue. You spent the day in Mark’s room, in pajamas, tracing shapes over his skin with your fingertips as you watched a marathon of movies he liked. He eagerly explained every gag and bit of trivia. But as the sky began to darken with the day’s end, Mark’s energy declined.

He was sluggish and he felt a bit warm. When he insisted he was alright, you still stayed by his side. A comfort he was secretly grateful for. Even when Debbie came home, fatigued, you kindly asserted that you would stay up with Mark and watch over him. It was only right, Debbie already had enough to deal with and she fussed over Mark until the early hours. If there was anyone she could trust Mark to, it would be you, just while she got some sleep at least.

You wiped the sweat from Mark’s brow with a gentle hand. You brought him water and aspirin, you rubbed his tender muscles, you changed his sheets soaked by sweat. Mark felt like shit but knowing you were there, unperturbed by his frequent vomiting, was a comfort beyond words. You even slept in the same bed as him now, holding his hand, rubbing over it with your fingers. He felt like a kid again, cared for and safe.

Even though after more than a week, Debbie wanted to bring him to the hospital, you waved away her concerns. “Part of this might be coming from Mark’s emotional state after what happened, maybe we have grief to blame for this, in part. Mark doesn’t need a hospital, his symptoms aren’t worse than the stomach flu, he just needs to be cared for” you had said, so convincingly, so knowingly, that it made her hesitate. You only had his best interests at heart. Mark even spoke up and said he didn’t need to go to the hospital. He had been in the hospital so often, he was sick of it. Even the memory of the strong antiseptic smell brought a sense of dread. He would rather be with you, at home being touched by your familiar, healing, hands.

He loved you so much, and told you as much very often. When you were showering with him, washing him because he was too winded; your wet, warm skin carefully cleaning his, he murmured ‘I love you.’ He was vulnerable, tender, worn and tired but he was certain of one thing. He couldn’t live without your warmth. Everyone else counted on him, they needed something from him and if he failed to deliver he’d be letting them down. It’d be another fuck up to add to the roster and yet another time someone he loved would look at him like a loser. But with you, he felt the closest thing to unconditional love he had ever experienced from anyone besides his mom. You didn’t care who he decided to help or what he messed up, you would always accept him. Even if you weren’t always pleased with what he did, you never judged him harshly for his mistakes. For his wins or his fails, you loved him. Mark thought it was way more than he deserved and part of him really did regret his actions more in the face of your forgiveness. He did feel like such an asshole when he found comfort in your acceptance, when you consoled him as if he really deserved it. But fuck if he didn’t need it.

He obviously couldn’t rush off saving people like he had, so he stayed safely inside. His world was small and manageable. His body was whole, if aching and feverish. That was what you intended. For Mark to be safe. He was always putting himself in danger like it didn’t matter, running off to save the world like no one else. Sometimes he would come back intact and sometimes he wouldn’t. Sometimes he was a hair’s breadth away from death. But Mark didn’t want to stay put, you weren’t strong enough to protect him directly and you couldn’t order him to. What were you to do?

A bit of poison wouldn’t do him in, in fact, you were certain it wouldn’t even keep him down very long. But buying even this amount of time was a blessing. You wanted to keep him safe, keep him inside forever if that’s what it took but that wouldn’t work. For now, you were just buying a little time and some peace of mind. You tell yourself you were driven to this.

A few days later, Mark’s strength had recovered somewhat. You fed him soup and he kept all of it down. He was relieved to be recovering even though he would miss being babied by you and Debbie’s worries eased meaning you were safe from her suspicion. He went back to school, back to saving the world eventually. You waited until enough time passed. Until you could return things to how they should be.

The moment came six months later, the previous night you two had been out with William and Eve. He’d rushed off to the city with Eve while you were in the middle of eating at some greasy pizza joint. Your heart fluttered as you gazed at the empty space next to you in the booth. At least Eve was with him, though it was a poor consolation. They were fighting the same aliens they were overwhelmed by a few weeks ago. He came home in one piece, thankfully, but he had been fighting so much lately. Cecil asked so much of him, he’d been flying off to this and that attack. He was bound to be hurt again soon, even just that month there had been threats he’d barely escaped from. It was your misfortune to fall in love with a hero, it meant that he would never really be safe and neither would you.

You called Mark to sleep over at yours when he came back that night. Your mother worked late or sometimes, simply didn’t want to come home so the house was yours. The two of you watched mafia movies, argued about whether the godfather was overrated or not and ate an ungodly amount of popcorn. The following morning, you cooked a big breakfast, muffins, bacon, omelets. Pancakes. 

He ate so hungrily it hurt your heart. He truly did love your cooking. Even though Debbie had gradually started making dinner for him again months ago, he had really missed your cooking. It wasn’t that her’s wasn't delicious, it was just…there was something that made him warm inside about the idea that you should make something for him. That you thought about him, cared about him enough. That much effort wasn’t necessarily a given in a high school relationship. It was new and nice to be with someone who showed their love for him so frankly.

You watched him eat with such a sweet look on your face. You ate with him, an omelette and bacon, for the sake of appearance. Planned out in anticipation of Mark’s tastes and in the interest of keeping suspicion to a minimum, you added your remedy to both the muffins and the pancakes. The muffins had less of it, as you knew Mark would be likely to eat more pancakes than muffins but if he chose to forgo that for the opposite, he would still be made ill. You even had plans for the unlikely event that he chose to eat neither. But Mark wasn’t rude enough to pass up food made for him by someone he loves.

Shortly after breakfast, Mark was in the bathroom vomiting. It seemed far more likely that the pizza joint with the sticky seats and chain smoking cooks gave him food poisoning than anything having been wrong with your food. In his head, it didn’t even occur to him. When you helped him into bed, he felt grateful that he was with you. It was such a relief not to say that he was fine, not to have to be brave. Nobody cared for him as gently as you did. 

Your sheets and your pillows smelled like you. Mark felt weird smelling your things but it was nice to be surrounded by comfort. You washed him in your soap so he smelled like you too. He couldn’t have wanted you more in that moment, he wanted your skin against yours. He wanted your voice, the brush of your fingertips against his. When he was well, he wanted to be someone you would be proud to be with. To be that hero you deserve. When he was this sick, he still had that desire lingering somewhere in the background but he melted down into the barest of wants. And what remained was a need for you, an uncomplicated desire. He felt as if he’d dissolve into your mattress if he couldn’t feel you.

“I’m right here, Mark” You murmured, cleaning the sweat from his chest with a cloth. You have such gentle hands, your eyes stay on his to make sure you’re not hurting him. Under your loving attention, a few tears roll down Mark’s cheek. He can’t help it, you’re always there for him. Without you, who does he have to lean on like this? His mom was already a wreck, Eve had her own problems, William had no idea how to deal with something as big as what he went through — he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. He cannot live without you, who doesn’t understand what he went through but understands what he needs better than anyone.

“What’s the matter? Does something hurt?” You asked, panicked at his tears. Mark didn’t cry easily, you hadn’t meant to put him in so much pain he’d cry. You had added just enough, you always operated on that balance. Just enough pain, just enough sickness, just enough time.

“No, it’s just-” Mark’s voice was raw. “I’m glad I’m with you, that’s all.”

You softened. Hearing him say that made you melt into a puddle of sticky sweet syrup. It only strengthened your resolve and you were overcome with the need to keep him safe. And with the knowledge that if something happened to him, you would die. When the savage, gruesome fight happened, your stomach was in knots for days while you heard no news. Your heart squeezed painfully as if you were going to have a heart attack and it went on for days. When you slept to escape the constant anxiety, you had nightmares. You didn’t even go to school, you couldn’t get out of bed for anything other than checking whether or not he’d come home. For weeks you lived in hell, thinking you would lose him. And although he was alright that time, a piece of that moment lived in you every time he flew off toward danger. 

“I love you so much, Mark” You bowed your head and rested it against his chest, hearing his strong heart beating. You pressed a kiss there, along the contours of his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you too” He mumbled weakly. There couldn’t be anything sweeter than you.

Your love was falling over him like powdered sugar. These moments, without knowing it, he had come to need them. Being sick was the only time he was allowed to fully be human. No one needed or expected anything of him. Under your care, he could be briefly vulnerable. 

That was all you needed to ease that inkling of guilt that rose in the back of your mind. Who was protecting him like he protected everyone else? No one but you. It was why you had to resort to using underhanded methods, if everyone was trying to protect him, if they only cared — you wouldn’t need to. That was what you reasoned, anyway.

Mark needed you, anyone with eyes could see that. And you had no intention of abandoning him. Whatever you had to do, in your eyes it was all the desperation of a powerless human trying to save the man they love. It was romantic, even. You anticipated the moment where Mark might put two and two together. It made you anxious and you had practiced the speech you’d give him a thousand times. “I love you and I’m scared. I’m so scared for you. I always am." But you soothed yourself with the knowledge that Mark would understand, above anyone else, you’d earned the benefit of the doubt.

Because Mark knew what he needed, even if it was something he couldn’t have expressed on his own. Even if it was something that he shouldn’t. He was only human — even if he was half viltrumite — could he really deny your feelings and his own? No. Not when you were his saving grace. How could he not understand what you were trying to do when his sentiments were nearly the same?

You were watching Mark sleep, laying next to him, his arm around you. His skin was warm and his breaths were labored. You reassured yourself as you pulled the blanket up to his chest. You would take good care of him, he knew that. He had to, he had to know. He just had to.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: why am I so anxious all the time?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

If Peggy’s party promised everything would change, the ‘yes’ you give to Arturo pays on that promise. Almost at once, everything is different. Your boring, orderly life is suddenly thrown into chaos. You have a hundred worries at once and not enough times; passport, visa, packing, flights. Not too mention all that you’re leaving behind; apartment, furniture, and... friends. 

It’ll be good. You keep telling yourself that, just like Arturo, just like Sam. They seem more excited than you are. You struggle to see past the grief of saying goodbye to the life you built there; the life you built around Steve and false hopes. It’s foolish and naive but it still hurts. 

And you’re scared. Norway. It’s far away. And you’ll be all alone. You survived college because you found Steve; you could stomach the furor of the city for Sam and Bucky, but on your own, what could you do? You’re not brave or bold or anything like that. 

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to work. To forget. Focus on the dig, don’t think about everything else. 

You’ve already lost so much. Steve’s busy, you are too. Maybe that’s good. You have to condition yourself for the trip. For a new life. A year is a long time. You feel like the newly graduated teen heading off to college, the one who walked into the wrong lecture hall on that fated day, the one he picked out and put firmly in her place; a friend, just a friend. 

As you sort through your closet, tossing fabric into one pile or the other, your music stops playing and your phone buzzes loudly against your nightstand. You hurry to pick it up as that noise makes your neck bristle. You hate it. 

You pick up without checking the display. You hope it’s the visa office. No, it’s Sam. 

“Hey, chicky poo,” he chirps from the other end. 

“Chicky poo?” You echo flatly. 

“Hm, you’re right, I’ll keep workshopping,” he chuckles, “so you’re leaving in a week?” 

“As long as my paperwork shows up,” you sighs and cross your arm over your middle. You sway as you look around at the clutter of your bedroom. “And I can get all this shit out of my place.” 

“When’s your flight?” He asks pointedly. He’s not subtle. Men never are. For years, you’d hoped Steve was being subtle and look how that turned out. You know now he was so obviously not into you.  

“Thursday, 5am,” you answer. 

“Ah, that’s pretty early to be hungover but it will be worth it.” 

“Hungover?” You wonder as you slowly sit on your bed, “why?” 

“You’re leaving us so obviously, you need a final hurrah,” he insists, “I’m throwing you a going away party. Just the four of us, unless you have any plus ones?” 

“Going away party?” 

“Neither of the other jerks are gonna do it,” he scoffs, “nothing fancy, promise. Just some drinks.” 

“What about Tuesday? Give me a day to recover?” 

“Wednesday works. Steve’ll be back by then.” 

“Back by then?” You must sound like a parrot. 

“Oh, yeah, the lovers went up north to look at venues for the engagement party. Too bad you won’t make it. I’ll have to drink myself into a stupour all by myself,” he intones. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you grumble and pick at a wrinkle in your pants. 

“Don’t be sorry. You deserve this. I’m so fucking excited for you,” he chimes, “you have to tell me everything. I want pictures of vikings and castles and stuff. All of it.” 

“Sam, I’m just going to be digging,” you mutter. 

“And? You can’t just go over there an put your head down. Go sightseeing, go out on the town, have a wild one-night stand--” 

“Sam,” you drone. 

“You need it,” he cackles, “it’ll be a story to bring home with ya. Make us all jealous with your wild Norwegian adventure. Hey,” he pauses and sucks his teeth, “you’re like Uno reversing a whole country. Vikings used to invade others, this is your chance to go right in there and raise hell.” 

“You’re stupid,” you laugh and shake your head. 

“Never said otherwise.” 

“Hm, fine, Wednesday,” you agree, “if I'm gonna be there, I gotta get all this shit packed.” 

“Did I not say if you need anything? I can help,” he offers. 

“No, no, I got it,” you say, “really, it’s not that much.” 

“Right, well, I should get back to it and let you do the same,” he says in a resigned tone. 

You hang up and heave. You put the phone down and drop your head into your hands. You feel like you should cry. You’ve felt that tide of tears pushing on your eyes since the party but they just won’t come. All that tension is driving you mad but you just can’t dislodge the nail driven deep into your chest. 

💟

Your life is hectic but you’re not surprised Steve isn’t part of the whirlwind. Why would he be? He has so much going on. A wedding is much more important than what could possibly be the most spontaneous and naive decision of your life. Impulsive more than anything. Cowardly when you think about it. You’re running away because you can’t face the truth. Because it’s just easy to leave your emotions in New York. 

Still, you thought you’d hear more than this. More than a thumbs up emoji or hearsay from Sam. Even after your conversation on the balcony and his reassurances, you still feel his discontent. Will he really miss you that much or is he just upset you won’t be there to celebrate the love of his life? 

It doesn’t matter, does it? 

It’s gone so fast and you hope the next year goes just as quickly. That all this passes. Not just the trip but everything else. The sadness, the pain, the fear. You try to be positive. You thought college was scary and look how that turned out. 

Ugh, you’re really doing this. You're leaving is all behind. You’re leaving your friends and your family and your home. You have no one to blame but yourself. You could’ve gotten over Steve Rogers a decade ago. More than that. You couldn’t rip the band-aid off, you had to pull it slow so ever hair rends painfully from the flesh. 

The GPS guides you between the shining marquee. You can see the pulsing dot of your destination on the screen. You don’t drive towards it, instead hunting for a parking spot among the cramped lots and lined curbs. You should’ve taken a cab but you’re only having one drink and you’re saving for the inevitable expense of hurling yourself halfway across the world. 

You get out and grab your phone, your purse hooked over your elbow. You raise the small screen and get your bearings, squinting as you set yourself in the right direction. Just across and at the end. 

As you approach the bar, you stop short. This isn’t exactly the flavour. Well, not for them. You peer up at the neon light in the shape of a martini, a bright pink beacon, under which a large group of women cluster. Whoops and hollers go up as they enter and leave you standing out in the technicolour-tinted night. Did you get the address wrong? 

You check your messages with Sam. No, it’s correct. Strange. Maybe he didn’t know. 

You pull open the violet-shaded glass door and peer around as you step out of the way of the patrons behind you. You text Sam to check if he’s there already. You can’t seem to keep up with the clock hands these days.  

As you wait for a response, you glance around. It’s like a Sex and the City reenactment. The guys always teased you for your rants about Carrie Bradshaw’s selfishness. They weren’t much for the genre. With them, it’s sports bars and beers and what ball game is in season. They never notice your cute new earrings or your efforts to spruce up your work clothes with a flashy belt. 

‘Here. You’re looking cute.’ Sam’s response comes.  

You narrow your eyes and stand on your toes to look around. He’s sitting at a tall table with Bucky, the two of them looking out of place before the feathered centerpiece and glitzy wall art of high heels. You can’t help a grin. This is absolutely ridiculous. 

You weave through the tables and bodies, past the bar of gabbing girl groups and a few men mixed in. You near your friends and claim one of the tall stools around the round table. You use the bottom bar to haul yourself up onto the seat and hang your purse from your knee. 

“Hey, this place is... sparkly,” you look around with a dumb smile. You can’t help it! You never get a girls’ night. 

“It is,” Bucky agrees in a grit. 

You stop short. You look at him then at Sam. You didn’t notice before. They’re wearing bows on their heads. Sam has a head band with a gregariously big pink ribbon, whereas Bucky has a glittering purple bow pinned into his thick locks. You laugh and smother it behind your hands. 

“What is this?” You snicker. 

“We are your ladies tonight!” Sam announces and shifts to stand, bending under the table, “and you get to be queen bee!” He reaches to the floor and you lean to see the huge tote underneath, “here is your tiara!” 

He pulls out the plastic tiara with fake pink gems and white feathers. You giggle again as he places it on your head. This is too much. 

“Sam! How—this is so stupid. You didn’t have to do all this.” 

“What? It’s about time. Don’t worry about us. It’s all about you,” he snaps his finger and points at you, “we’re going to order girly cocktails and dish on the cute dudes.” 

Bucky shakes his head as he fixes the bow in his hair, “I wanted a flower.” 

You bring your hands down to your next and wiggle on the seat giddily. This is amazing. Your eyes sting and your throat locks up. You’re going to miss these idiots. 

“You guys,” you breathe. 

“No crying!” Sam claps his hand, “I already got this guy moping around.” 

“I’m not moping,” Bucky sniffs. 

“We have to decide who’s who. I know you hate Carrie so we’ll save that for Steve. He is the stuck up blond, after all,” Sam smirks, “I’m definitely Samantha, it’s already in my name. And you,” he points at you, “Miranda. The level-headed one who has to put up with our BS. That means Bucky--” 

“Charlotte?” Bucky frowns, “can’t I be Stanford?” 

You nearly gasp, “Bucky, are you a stan?” 

“I’ve seen some episodes,” he shrugs. 

“Well, that’s decided,” Sam checks his watch, “where’s that bozo?” 

You frown and look around. You look at your phone. You were just on the cusp but Steve is late. Bucky takes out his cell too and all three of you scroll through your screens. 

“Whatever, we don’t have to wait for him, drinks,” Sam blacks the screen and sets down his phone. He reaches for the pink pleather drink menu, “I was looking at the Paradise Punch. Sounds interesting.” 

“Mm, I’m just having one,” you state, “I gotta drive home.” 

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. You can get your car tomorrow.” 

“Sam, I leave at five in the morning.” 

“Fine, I’ll take care of the car. You’re storing it, aren’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t expect--” 

“Tonight is going to be fun. No arguing,” he points a long finger at you. 

The phone jitters and his phone lights up. He picks it up as your cell remains lifeless in a rare moment of peace, though it’s fraught nonetheless. You peek over at the empty fourth stool. 

“He’s not coming,” you utter. 

Sam huffs and puts his phone down, “he’s not. Peggy has a work dinner and he’s invited.” 

“Oh,” you nod and try not to deflate entirely, “that’s... that’s fine. He said he’d come to the airport but I wasn’t counting on that either.” 

“Asshole,” Sam sneers. 

“Hey, no,” you shake your head, “he’s busy. He has a wedding and all that--” 

“You’re going away,” Bucky surprises you with the emotion in his tone, “and he can’t be here.” 

“Really, it’s not--” 

“It is,” Sam insists. “How long are you gonna let him walk all over you? Isn’t that why you’re leaving?” 

“It’s work, it’s nothing to do with Steve.” 

“Sure,” Sam accepts hotly, “keep telling yourself that.” He cringes and swallows, “tonight isn’t about him. For once. It’s about you. Us. Having fun. Saying goodbye. It’s gonna be terrible without you. I hope you know that.” 

You could laugh at his rebuke. The conflict between celebratory and reproachful is amusing. You exhale and put your hands up. 

“Alright, I got it.” 

“Buck,” he gestures to the other man, “go.” 

You turn to the Bucky and he slides off his stool. He reaches down under the table and brings up a gift bag. Your mouth falls open. Your chest tweaks, a mixture of glee and guilt. You’re happy to have friends with them but you feel so bad for not seeing it earlier. For being so tunnel-visioned that you couldn’t appreciate them fully. 

“This is so—you didn’t have to,” you say. 

“We did. Obviously,” Sam scoffs, “don’t worry, my gift is the grand finale.” 

“Right,” you smile and accept the bag from Bucky. You push through the tissue paper and pull out the heavy shape inside. You reveal it and just as quickly hide it back in the polka dot bag, “Bucky!” 

You let go of the taser and retract your hand. Sam guffaws and Bucky gives a confused grimace, “you need it.” 

“What?” You hiss. 

“You’re going to be all alone over there. You should be safe.” 

“I... appreciate the thought but it’s a bit extreme.” 

“He’s right,” Sam adds, “you know, going to the land of the vikings, you can never be too safe. I’ve heard they like to carry women off in their boats.” 

“You two,” you roll your eyes. 

“My turn,” Sam says, “you’ll love this.” 

He once more searches under the table and the tote crinkle. He pulls out an envelope and you tilt your head. Really? 

“Money?” You wonder. 

“What am I? Your grandma?” He snorts, “here.” 

You take the envelope and turn it over. You pull the flap open and reveal a pamphlet within, along with a second slip of paper. A reservation... 

“I found this place over there. It’s at some coastal castle, there’s a spa and all that. They do like ancient types of treatments, hot rocks or whatever,” he explains, “I made sure you can adjust the dates too if you need. You just have to call.” 

“Wow, that’s... Sam, I’m going to be so busy--” 

“I told you not to work yourself too hard. That’s a good excuse for you to get your head out of the dirt. Literally. Just think of me when you’re in a mud bath with a glass of champagne.” 

You put the envelope next to the gift bag and drop off the stool. You open your arms to them. Sam is up first and Bucky drags himself to his feet. You wrap them in a hug and they do the same in turn. It must be an absolutely ridiculous sight but you don’t care. You tuck your head against Sam’s arm and feel a rumble in Bucky’s chest. 

“Sam, that’s my ass,” Bucky snarls. 

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget your wallet,” Sam chuckles. 

“You’re a moron,” Bucky pulls away and shoves him. 

“Peas in a pod, bud,” Sam lets you go as the hug breaks up, “now, I need a drink and you...” he points in your direction, “need a double.” 

[bunnivez]

Modern! Zoya…

Her first job was as a tattoo artist. Most of her costumers were women, they would specifically ask for her to do their tattoos; both because of her amazing work and the other… to get a close look at her. Whats better? Zoya is aware of the many women she is pulling (๑>؂•̀๑)

Imagine you two meet randomly bumping against each other and turns out you work at the shop right next to the one she works at!

Or you got recomendad by your friend to go to a certain shop to get your tattoo done, telling you to specifically ask for a woman named Zoya since her work is more professional and she is more trusted to give you great results.

She used to live in an apartment until she got a husky… I mean she it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford an average house but damn, she now has to pay more…

Has a love-hate relationship with her dog TRUST. Often complains of their sudden howling and the amount of hair they shed.

“It’s 1:30AM why the fuck are you howling like that!? You sound like you’re dying!” “Oh my f… You know i’m tempted in leaving you bald so I don’t have to deal with having your hair on the couch.”

At the same time however, they are also her best buddy and friend. There are times where she even lets them sleep with her on bed… For at least an hour before Zoya falls asleep and accidentally pushes s them off the bed in the middle of the night.

Yes she is a messy sleeper, god knows how the heck she ends up with on leg on the headboard and the other hanging on the bed. She snores like a dad…

Like even her huskey got scared for a second and kept barking until she woke up.

Listen, when going out she has this whole badass outfit, rings on her fingers, chains, unbuttoned blouse, a whole ass fit that screams “DADDY”

And then there are times where she just pulls up to the grocery store with an “Idgaf” outfit… Yet somehow she still looks hot. Jorts, a black baggy shirt, socks with the damn sandals or crocs combo (ಠ_ಠ)

Has a tongue piercing and you cannot tell me otherwise. If not, it is definitely her nipples.

Dark or alcohol filled chocolates girly. She isn’t a fan of overly sweet stuff.

Once choked on boba balls.

Honestly she can be romantic at times. She takes you to dates often— if not she plans something you two can do at home. Like cook, watch movies, play games or something.

Motorcycle rides with her are very common, more so with the fact that she doesn’t really own a car… Which she did confess that she may or may not be the best at driving.

Who knows how the heck she managed to stay alive with the many incidents she’s had while driving.. I guess she’s immortal.

Has an electric guitar, she posts videos on TikTok playing it and they get pretty high views! Like 406.1k views or something.

Her reposts mainly contain of two things; brain rots, lesbian.

Takes the most silly pictures of you and posts them on her story.

Source ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

HAHAHSGSBSGAVAWHABE, IMAGINE HER LAYING DOWN WHILE YOU SIT ON TOP OF HER TO DO HER MAKEUP.

Holds you like a stuffed animal when sleeping. It’s actually so cute but it’s kinda hard to break free from her hold.

YOU GUYS PLAY ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, AND WHOEVER LOSES IS IN CHARGE OF COOKING.

Her cooking is actually pretty damn good! I feel like she is especially a specialist when it comes to cooking meat.

If you are too shy to order your food whenever you two are out, or pay, DO NOT WORRY, SHE LITERALLY IS YOUR SAVIOR, NO KIDDING. This woman gives no fucks at all, too shy to order? She’ll do it, hot your order wrong? She’ll go up and tell them.

Have I mentioned she gets up at 5AM just to do pushups?…

The type to randomly smack or grab your ass, she doesn’t care about the size.

I don’t recommend watching romance movies with her… she will cringe at any kissing scenes acting like she wouldn’t or doesn’t do that with you 24/7.

Not the best at dancing… Girl is STIFF.

I have the feeling she is the type to not admit that she is in pain during her period. She will act all tough and all until she can’t anymore.

(We need more comforting the ptn women on their period instead of the other way around, they also need comfort 😔)

Oh yeah did I also mention she was close to breaking your phone once? It all happened when you were scrolling through TikTok and saw a thirst trap (*cough* Rhea Ripley *cough*) and when I tell you grabbed your phone and threw it… IT HAPPENED.

Says she hates kids but has a soft spot for them actually. They remind her of Horo when she was wayyy younger.

Randomly sends you weird TikToks…. Like it’s so random and she says nothing about it.

She isn’t a fan of dresses, but she once tried it for you and it was a sight. It hugged her curves right and she kept flexing her muscles. If you take any pictures she seriously will kill you. (Especially if you send them to her friends).

If you are out she WILL text and call you every 36 minutes if she can’t come with you. And if she is too busy to pick you up she will face time you on your way home.

Has like so many posters of her favorite bands, korn, kiss, Deftones, ect.

Randomly gives you kisses when you least expect it. They are so random, you could be distracted and she will kiss your cheek, or your forehead, or the top of your head.

If she sees anyone eyeing you while in public she will pull you close and give the person a nasty look.

[djarins-cyare]

Front Covers for Fics and WIPs + Fic Titles Ask Game

(Yes, it’s two games for the price of one, folks!)

Thank you for the tags, @burntheedges and @nerdieforpedro; your covers are so gorgeous! In fact, every single cover that’s come across my dash so far has been so well thought out and perfect for the fics – I just love getting a visual peek into how authors envision their own work! And a huuuge thank you to the amazingly talented @saradika for making these cool templates to help us share our visions for our fics 💙

Work is so busy rn, but I really wanna write and play fun games like this, so I sacrificed sleep and made most of these at like 5am 😫

Published works…

I had already made a cover for Be-All. A massive thank you to @djarin-desires for allowing me to crop and use one of her super-sexy brooding Din pics for Never Look Down. There’s a disappointing lack of Din crotch shots in the actual show, so this was perfect for the subject matter. Check out the uncropped shot and more brooding Din here!

And my upcoming fics…

I should also credit Svetlana from KamuiCosplay, who is holding Din's Amban phase-pulse rifle on the cover of TSATT. See her YouTube tutorial on how to build your own.

Meanwhile, I was also tagged by @sixhours, @burntheedges and @ishabull in a ✨ Fic Titles Ask Game ✨ (thank you all!), and since there’s a certain amount of crossover, I’m combining these games into one post.

Send me an ask with the title of one of my fics and I’ll tell you why I chose it, the song/poem/quote it’s from, the line in the fic that inspired it, and (if it’s a WIP) maybe share a snip!

Published works…

🔷 Be-All And Endor [406.6k words - Din x f!reader - slow burn love n' smut]

🔷 Never Look Down [13.2k words - Din x OFC/f!reader - angsty fluff]

🔷 Din Djarin: The Contractor [1k words - Din x gn!reader - silly imagine]

🔷 The Long Goodbye [45 words - sentimental!Din - flash fic]

And my upcoming fics…

🔷 Hush [Din x OFC/f!reader - secret relationship spice - *COMING SOON*]

🔷 Held Is The Seed [Din x f!reader - smut city]

🔷 To See A Thousand Things [Din x f!reader - angsty smut]

🔷 Aruetiise [Din x gn!reader - a helmet reveal one-shot]

🔷 Final Sanctuary [Din x OFC - smutty one-shot]

🔷 Din Djarin In Jarringly Domestic Situations [Din x OFC - space romcom]

I’m super-late to both these games, and as I was trying to decide who to tag, I noticed the same people kept being tagged in the fic covers one over and over. So I spent some time this weekend going through my list of writer mutuals and checking to see who hadn’t already been tagged and/or hadn’t posted any Canva designs yet. I’m hoping this will help the book cover design one reach beyond just the Pedro fandom, too, and even if you’re not up for participating in that, maybe the fic titles one is more your style. No pressure either way, of course 😌💙

@againstacecilia @always-andromeda @alwaysmicado @amywritesthings @auntie-venom

@avastrasposts @bitchesuntitled @burningfieldof-clover @cas-readsandwrites @chiriwritesstuff

@chronically-ghosted @classaysstuff @corazondebeskar @covetyou @davnittbraes

@desert-fern @din-cognito @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @fhatbhabiee

@for-a-longlongtime @fromthedeskoftheraven @hc-geralt-23 @idungoofed @joelalorian

@lahooozaherr @moeswriting @nervoushottee @novemberrain-writes @papurgaatika

@quicksilvermad @soft-persephone @stardusthuntress @strawberri-blonde @syd-djarin

@the-mandawhor1an @tightjeansjavi @wannab-urs @whxtedreams @wrathkitty

[petalruesimblr]

Hi everyone! I'm excited to share my latest part-time career with you all - the Army Reserve - Military Working Dog (MWD) Handler! I remembered reading a Criminal Minds fanfic where one of the characters joined the Army Reserve so I thought 'yeah that could work' and I wanted to do something different hence working with dogs! It's been fun creating this one as I had to dig out a cc I created a year ago for the uniform of this career.

If you are interested, click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the Army Reserve - MWD Handler Part-time Career.

Army Reserve - MWD Handler

Individual files: Career - Sim File Share | Army Shirt Male - Sim File Share | Army Shirt Female - Sim File Share Bulk Download: Sim File Share

Join the Army Reserve as a Military Working Dog (MWD) Handler! Dive into a rewarding role working alongside brave military dogs from securing bases to detecting threats. Unleash your potential and serve your country with pawsitive impact, apply today - no experience necessary and embark on a unique adventure!

Career Type: Part-Time Available for: Young Adults and Adults Available Languages: English Levels: 3 Rabbit Hole: Military Base Work Days: M, T, W, F Work Hours: 7AM - 10AM (Downtown 5AM - 8AM) Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes (details under Final Notes) File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3 📣All descriptions for the levels, tones and metrics as well as skills required, salary, uniforms and other details are provided on the pictures above.

NRAAS Careers Mod Male and Female Uniforms CC

I decided to stick with Athletic skill only for this part-time because this branch of the military mostly focuses on training with military dogs. As much as I wanted to include dog training skills, unfortunately that is locked to pets in the game. It may be possible but it is outside of my current skillset as it would require delving into scripting or modding. You can adopt a dog and train it, though training sessions will only occur outside of work hours. However, if you enjoy roleplaying like I do, I typically adopt a dog and train with them in the park after work. Regarding the custom content I mentioned earlier, I have included two files in the Download section above: Army Shirt Male and Army Shirt Female. These should be placed in the Mods folder like any other cc and are required for the level 1 uniforms to appear in your game. The shirts are simple t-shirts with the word 'ARMY' written on the front, and I owe huge thanks to the tutorials and references I found (links provided below in the Credits) for helping me complete them. The Army Shirts are exclusively available for the Army Reserve - MWD Handler career and are disabled for random outfits as well as maternity wear. I have included both individual files and a bulk download option depending on your preference. RAR files can be opened by third-party applications such as WinRAR or 7-Zip. If you do not have these applications yet, you can refer to this link for the download links. As stated above, you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for these careers to show up in the game and as long as you have the latest version of it, it should work for higher patches. You can also read my #psa regarding these careers, click here. I’m not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don’t hesitate to send me a message here, comment on this post or let me know in my Ask/Contact form (if you don't have a Tumblr account) and will let you know the details. I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. All feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.

MissyHissy step-by-step tutorial Twallan for the Career Mod S3pe Simlish alphabet LGR Video Tutorial CAS Texture Unitool (CTU)

[formulateez]

1:32am | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

genre: literal pwp, except there is minimal plot, random horny hour drabble prompt(s): "i'm going to fill you up so good and make you mine." and "someone's going to hear us!" summary: classic fwb troupe where y/n and oscar try to fit in a quickie during a sleepover with their mutual friends asleep in the rooms next door word count: ~520

requested?: no, teehee, but i got faded than a hoe a few nights ago and wrote this at like 5am and it's been sitting in my drafts for a little bit because i've been too scared to post it LMFAO there also isn't enough op81 content so i wanted to add to it :) but, please reblog and leave feedback !! (but pls be nice otherwise i will cry)

extras: banners made using template by @/cafekitsune !!

"Oh-fuck, Oscar-" You choke out, your hands running through Oscar's hair as his lips found all the spots that draw out heavenly sounds from you. “Please, Oscar, someone’s going to hear us!” You fail to sound stern as the Australian continues to ravage your neck.

“Fine with me, ‘cuz I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.” he mutters out in between each kiss that he trails down your front.

It had been a couple weeks since you and Oscar originally made a special friendship agreement. You had invited him over one night to watch a movie or two, and the night ended with his face lodged between your thighs.

Oscar’s mouth and free hand occupy themselves with your nipples, while you buck your hips up to grind against him. “Oh shit, please.” Your plead leaves your lips softly as you ache for him to give you more.

“Please what, baby? Am I making you feel good, hmm?” Oscar hums as he continues to suck on your nipple, while he’s flicking your other nub between his fingertips. “Wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.“

“Yes, yes- fuck, yes. Please, Oscar, more-“ your pleads earn you a slight chuckle out of the guy above you as his fingers find their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Quite talkative for someone who’s worried about being heard, don’t you think?” His lips are leaving faint marks along your collarbone and the tops of your boobs. Man, does he love seeing the very faint marks peek through the lower cut tops that you often wear during the summer. “You want more? Tell me what else you want, doll.”

As his fingers dip into your waistband, they start to lightly brush over your core as another soft, yet sharp, moans leaves your lips. You grab what you can of his hair and lightly tug him upwards to meet face to face with him. “Fuck- please fuck me, Oscar.”

“Yeah?” Oscar draws his hand out of your shorts as he starts to tug them down, along with your underwear before he throws them off to the side. “You want me to fuck you, hm? Is that what my pretty girl wants?”

“Yes, Oscar, please,” you breathe out, lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt, wanting less barriers between the two of you. “Want you inside me, so bad.”

It doesn’t take long before both of you finish undressing each other, and his lips are finding themselves attaching to your neck once again. His tip is just barely teasing your entrance and he continues to work his way all over your neck and chest.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good and make you mine, princess.” Oscar groans into your ear as he slowly starts to push himself into you, enticing the sweetest of moans from your lips as you savor the feeling of Oscar filling you up as promised.

You both were, in fact, not quiet enough, as Lando was tortured with faintly hearing both of you moan. He quickly threw on his noise-canceling headphones, making a mental note to clown the both of you the next morning.

[dreaminofu]

Hei I need help sense checking some facts. Please do you know the exact days and circumstances in which Bojan went to see Jere last year? Like when did he go, what happened then etc. I remember the first time it was sometime in June 2023 after they played in Ireland is that right? I need a detailed timeline please help

Yes, Bojan flew to Finland straight from Ireland and the trip took place on 9.6-13.6.

9.6. We had Tavastia 1.0. In addition to the gig content, we had Bojan’s ig story of him shouting his first ”Peliä!” and all the backstage content like resuscitating Frank in Tavastia’s bathroom and Bojan serving Jere some wine.

10.6. Jere had an overnight gig in the middle of nowhere, so he left Bojan in the care of his friends. Bojan hung out with Sonny (he ate some soup, went to a techno party somewhere…) either on this day or on the 11th, I’m not sure. Maybe someone else knows??

11.6(-12.6). Jere and Bojan went to a club together. We had those Pokémon ”hi baby boos” ig stories, the og ”onks kellään denssii?”, dueting on karaoke (probably My heart will go on…) and drunk Cha cha cha in the parking lot like 5am in the morning.

13.6. Bojan left in the early morning hours, we had that My heart will go on farewell video from that morning. Also, they watched Twilight before that and Bojan posted the ”airport vibez” photo of Jere with his hair ruffled (which was obviously taken on their night out the day before, Bojan’s obsession with posting random photos of Jere’s face needs to be studied)

I think this is fairly accurate, but anyone feel free to correct me if I got something wrong 🫶🏻

[eyelessjackspuppyshark]

“Becoming the very thing he swore he'd never be.”

Characters: Toby Rogers

TW: Abuse, Alcohol

Summary: Toby’s nearly eight and doesn’t understand why his Daddy is mad at him. all he knows is he doesn’t want to end up like his Father.

Note: I think this is a one shot? I haven’t posted my writing online since around 2014 during my Wattpad days. I’m new to Tumblr and really want to post some writings!! I mainly muse Toby due to projecting a lot of my childhood onto him!! Also I may take requests, and questions about my Toby!! Oh also I write at 5AM while I’m passing out so…

Also!! Big Thanks to my Best friend @p1gsbl00d for editing this for me!! :)

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“He didn’t mean what he said, he doesn’t want to hurt us…”

The words spilled put of his mother’s mouth as Toby sobbed hysterically. His golden eyes consistently darting towards the door as his body violently twitched. Fear overwhelming him as he pictured his father walking through the door; only to continue his drunken violence.

“Your Father still loves you.”

He knew his Father loved him; but deep down Toby couldn’t help but feel hatred towards the man.

“But Mama… He….” Toby sobbed. Bringing his little hands up to his face in a desperate attempt to wipe away his tears. He knew his Daddy hated when he cried. Men didn’t cry. He was a pussy for crying.

He was nearly eight years old, He should've known better.

“It’s okay, Come here.” His mother interrupted, wrapping Toby’s frail body in a comforting hug.

But Toby couldn’t calm down. His Daddy had hurt his Mama, and had nearly hurt him.

As Toby hyperventilated he tried to comprehend the situation that had unwravelled before him.

All he had wanted was his Daddy’s help. He wanted his Daddy to help him with his homework.

He had been watching TV, drinking from a brown bottle with a silver label. He could still smell the sour scent on his father’s breath as he shouted at the boy, the stench of his body odour overwhelming his nostrils even after leaving the room.

Why did his Father smell so foul? What did he do that set his Father off?

“Get out of here, you little Fucker!” His Father had shouted at him shortly before an argument between his Mama and Daddy began. The entire time, he stood near a wall, frozen and unable to move while his body jerked and contorted in ways he never knew was possible. During his parent’s argument he couldn’t make out a single word, his ears ringing as his head went fuzzy.

Though Toby had been snapped back into reality as an object slammed against the wall behind him. His body subconsciously turned to look at the hole in the wall, the TV remote on the floor, its batteries laid out on the floor.

His Father had thrown the TV remote at his mother, and it had just barely missed his head, leaving a hole in the wall.

“Mama?…” Toby sobbed, his puffy golden eyes looking up to her.

“Yes, Toby?”

“I don’t wanna be like Daddy, I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

Now he’s twenty-two.

Becoming the very thing he swore he'd never be.

[cosmicdream222]

have you entered the void before?

I'm asking cause I've seen you post about it a bunch times with different methods to enter

Also, thank you for introducing me to the phase method! I'm using it and another method (one I created) to enter

Hey! Glad to hear the Phase has been helpful for you! Happy to answer your question, but it’s a bit more complicated than a yes/no answer and I’m feeling rambly today so you’re gonna get a whole backstory on how this blog came to be 😂

Backstory about me & this blog

I’d been in the personal development manifestation community since around 2016, and it was my life for a long time. But the kind of manifesting these people taught was basically like… wake up at 5am, work out, journal, meditate, shadow work, tarot cards, affirmations, cold showers, start a business, post no less than 10 times a day across your 5+ social media channels, and maybe if you hustle hard enough and cleared enough past life karma and Mercury isn’t retrograde, then the universe might grant your wishes... (if you don’t die of exhaustion first. 😅)

It really was a mess and realize now despite the facade of positive thinking and good vibes, the whole community really just keeps themselves identifying with lack & victim mentality so the coaches at the top profit off everyone else’s misery.

I believed in manifesting and had faith I would achieve my goals, but despite years of trying a million different things, only saw small or short-term successes and never seemed to get anywhere. I was feeling pretty burnt out and miserable, so summer 2023 I decided to stop trying so hard and just spend some time focused on myself and what I wanted. I went back to the two methods that I’ve always loved and had success with: affirmations and tapping.

I tapped every day and started making affirmation art and lockscreen wallpaper for fun. I posted the affirmations on Pinterest, which eventually lead me to finding affirmations pinned from tumblr. I think it was a screenshot from blushydior I saw at first, but her blog was deactivated by then. So I started stumbling around tumblr (around Aug-Sept 2023 at this point), where I eventually came across loa, the void, and shifting.

I was surprised because despite my extreme research into all things personal development & spiritual, I’d never heard of it. Although I’d read about quantum physics and more supernatural things, every coach/teacher had major limits. “Manifesting” only meant getting logical earth things like making 6 figures in your business through hard work and hustle so you can afford to travel and buy luxury cars & Chanel bags. Stuff like changing the past, waking up with all your desires, etc was absolutely impossible and not even talked about except “you can’t change the past”.

So having only heard about these incredible overnight life-changing manifestations from tumblr, I was skeptical and wanted more information. I basically started this blog to collect information from outside tumblr to prove it to myself and share with others. Which of course sent me down a rabbit hole of research and overconsumption and overcomplicating the void 😅

I did get kinda obsessed and throw myself into trying every shifting & void method I saw right away, which just left me frustrated with “failed” attempts. But I see now I was just repeating the same victim mentality from the old community - that everything had to be hard and a struggle, that I was a victim of circumstance and limited by a higher power. (This is also a really commonly held limiting belief in religion and society in general that affects many people.)

It took me more than a few months to realize, but I’m finally switching my default programming to that of a creator instead of a victim. Because I don’t want to be obsessed and put the void on a pedestal, I’m currently just working on my self concept that I am in control of my reality and can manifest whatever I want - with or without the void. I still do want to experience it of course, just want to make sure I’m going at it with a healthy mindset.

However!

About a week or two ago I read someone’s void success story that triggered a memory from many years ago: I realized I actually did wake up in the void and manifested something, long before I even knew what manifesting or the void was 😭 Because I’d always believed in supernatural things, I thought I had a “psychic dream” but now I know it was the void! (If anyone wants storytime I can make another post with more detail).

And since at the time, I entered without even knowing about the void’s existence, I realize we here or tumblr really do overcomplicate it. Like the video I posted where the void is described as the midway point between wake and sleep - it really is that simple!

I’ve noticed now that whenever I wake up naturally (not getting woken up by an alarm, outside noise, or cat jumping on me) I do always seem to wake up in the void. It’s the same kind of experience, and I don’t hear anything, but my first natural instinct when I wake up is to wonder where the sounds of my environment are. So I end up tuning in to my room and snapping out of the void.

I guess I just have to train myself to make my first thought an affirmation for my desires instead of just wondering where the sounds are 😅 But regardless, now I know it’s absolutely real and possible for me, I know it’s only a matter of time until I figure it out!

[hypnofur1]

The Thanksgiving Problem

By Hypnofur

I laughed when I got the picture from my wife on my phone. I texted back, asking her who took it, as it was a picture of her and her friend Paulina strolling down the street together. It was clear that someone had taken it for them, as it wasn’t a selfie.

My wife Alison texted back that Paulina had some girl on the street take it for her. She said that she liked the pictures she posted to look ‘authentic’, and that meant ‘candid’ shots taken by someone else, not selfie. Had I been with Alison, I would have gone on a rant about how not only did this picture not look authentic, but there was nothing authentic about Paulina at all. I hadn’t been a fan since college, and Alison knew that. However, that rant was a lot to type, so I just let it go, and instead asked Alison if she had forgotten her coat.

She texted back that indeed she did, as she had been in Houston too long, and totally forgot that Chicago would be cold in late November. Paulina let her borrow one of her little fur jackets. Despite that, the two of them still looked so different in this picture. Paulina also had a little fur jacket on, but with leather pants and leather boots. Her hair and make up was done to perfection, and she had a “I’m not even aware my photo is being taken” look on her face that she had clearly practiced many times.

Alison, in contrast, was in jeans and sneakers and looked out of place in a fur jacket. She looked right at the camera and laughed, likely a bit embarrassed about how silly it all was. As had been the case since college, despite all of Paulina’s glam, Alison was just prettier. Her looks were natural. I had pointed out many times that she was the prettier of the two, but she never believed it. She just thought it was the husband in me talking.

What the husband in me was actually doing was killing time “babysitting” the kids. Yes, I know it is not actually babysitting if they kids are your own. But, whatever, there was one of me and two of them and they were energetic as all hell. I was actually at the trampoline park at the time of this exchange.

I was annoyed that Alison had to fly to Chicago on the weekend before Thanksgiving to be with Paulina to help her though her (latest) divorce. With that said, the original ‘ask’ was for Alison to come spend the actual Thanksgiving in Chicago with her. We were hosting this year, so luckily that was out right from the get go. So, when that didn’t pan out, the weekend before Thanksgiving was the consolation. It was only really for a night, since there was a Saturday morning flight out, and a Sunday night flight back.

Alison kept texting me though out the evening. Telling me about the fancy restaurant, etc. Paulina was loaded. I was trying to keep up with the texts, but I had baths, dinner, bed times, etc. It was busy, and I was exhausted. Again, I know I shouldn’t admit that taking care of my own kids by myself for one day was exhausting, but damn… it was. I conked out on the couch shortly after getting them to sleep.

I awoke at close to 5am. I decided I would head up to my actual bed, as the kids typically woke up around 7. I checked my phone, and saw a ton of texts and a few emails from Alison.

The first few were about a group of guys they met while out. Alison said they were the typical dumb 40 somethings out on the town. Probably all divorcees. Then she wrote how Paulina was eating up the attention. No surprise there, that was her typical behavior. Then again, I would think most women going through a divorce would try to get some attention to feel better for a little bit. No biggie.

I scanned through a bunch of the other texts, they were mostly describing the dudes. I imagined Alison was more comfortable looking at her phone than talking to these guys, so the play by play made sense to me.

She started talking about how this one guy named Joe was a hypnotist. Pretty soon, most of the texts and play by play became about that.

She texted how Paulina was teasing him, and there was going to be a demonstration right there at the bar.

The next text seemed to be fifteen or so minutes later. Alison said that she couldn’t believe it, but Paulina was actually hypnotized. Apparently, she thought she was a cat, and climbed up into Joe’s lap.

I would have actually loved to have seen that. It would have been fun to see Ms. SuperCool Paulina do something embarrassing with a nerdy dude. Fortunately, a picture of her on the guy’s lap was next. Damn, she was really on him. This was crazy.

A few minutes later, there was a text that said, heading back to Paulina’s, and a complaint that the hypnotist guy got Paulina to invite them all back. I could tell that despite the fact that this text was now like 6 hours old, Alison was nervous. This wasn’t her scene. I didn’t like it either. She (we) didn’t know these guys. What if one of them was an axe murderer or something?

The next text was like an hour later. Paulina had taken her phone, and at least announced herself via text, so I knew who was typing. She asked if I wanted to see my wife get hypnotized. It was a rhetorical question, not only because it was asked hours ago, but also because it was immediately followed by a link.

I looked at the text of the link. It appeared to be some type of dark web youtube for people that were into hypnosis in a sexy way? Hypno-fetishists, I guess? My stomach flip flopped as I realized that this Joe guy must be some sort of hypno porn producer or something. Oh fuck.

However, this was my wife, and I had to figure out what kind of danger she (and we) were in, so I had no choice but to click the link.

In the video, Alison was standing in Paulina’s kitchen. She didn’t look comfortable. She still had Paulina’s fur jacket on, as if she was going to leave at any moment. Now, I knew that she was staying at Paulina’s condo, so she really didn’t have anywhere else to go, but she was clearly trying to give off a closed vibe. Two other guys were just standing there, and the Joe guy came up to her. I assumed the third guy was now holding the camera. Meanwhile, Paulina was just standing there, staring at this little, fat, Joe dude like he was the most interesting man in the world. This all looked so unsafe.

I became wracked with guilt. How could I have fallen asleep? I should have been texting with her. I should have been there to keep her safe!

“Well, Alison,” Joe said. “Earlier, at the bar, you seemed to think this was all nonsense. I’ve got to ask, do you believe in hypnosis now, after seeing your friend fall under my spell?”

“Maybe,” Alison said. “I guess, on the right person. On someone like Paulina at least.” She said. I know she never thought of Paulina as being that bright. I agreed with that assessment.

“That’s true, that’s true,” Joe said, nodding. “Though I would argue that more people are actually in that ‘right person to be hypnotized’ group than one would think”

Alison shrugged. She looked like she so desperately did not want to be there.

“And you don’t think you are one of those people, I’m guessing. You know, from your body language and stuff” Joe asked.

“I have to travel tomorrow. I think we should wrap all of this up. Don’t you Paulina?,” Alison said to her friend.

“Paulina wants me to stay. She wants to see if you can be hypnotized. Paulina, tell her that.” Joe interrupted, without breaking his gaze on Alison.

“I want him to stay. You should try to be hypnotized Al” Paulina said, similarly not breaking her gaze on Joe.

“See? We are all friends here Alison. I’d like to be your friend. Here,” Joe said, extending his hand. “Let’s shake on it.”

Warily, Alison took his hand and he shook it, up and down, slower than a casual handshake, rhythmic, like an undulating wave through her whole arm. She clearly wasn’t sure if she should pull it away or not.

“Just follow my lead and relax,” Joe said. “Focus on the swaying sensation. Pretend it’s a soothing wave. Like laying back in a waterbed. Feeling the sensation all around you, and letting it move your body. Very good.

“As I raise and lower your arm, I want you just to focus your eyes on me. If you don’t know where to look, that’s okay. Most people look at my eyes. They say they’re sky-blue. Or like sapphires. Focus on the blue in my eyes.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Joe said, his voice deepening into a soothing tone. “All you have to do is relax and focus on my eyes. On the sensation of drifting with the waves. You may notice by now that as you continue to look into my eyes, there is a heavy, drowsy feeling occurring in your eyes. Like staying up all night and trying to keep them open the next day. So difficult to do.

“In fact, each time I raise your arm upward, like this,” Joe said, as he raised her arm, before lowering it. “That heaviness in your eyes will become stronger. That’s fine. That means you’re doing it right and everything’s okay.”

I watched my phone as Alison’s eyes hooded, closing more with each time her arm rose.This can’t really be working, I thought as I watched the video from a couple hours ago.

“As your eyes begin to close,” Joe continued. “You feel the desire to let them close get stronger. It’s perfectly safe. Like slipping into a warm bed after a long, hard day’s work. All your body wants to do is relax and drift. Your eyes are closing all the way now. You want this relaxation. You feel it, warm and heavy, floating through your body. Feel it happening, Alison.”

Joe pulled on my wife’s hand, making her fall into him, head pressed against his shoulder. I couldn’t believe she was that… close… to a stranger.

Then Joe whispered into her ear, as I turned up the volume on my phone to max, desperate to hear what he was telling her. I couldn’t get anything though. Then, he put his hands on her shoulders and placed her in a standing position, like a limp doll. She stood straight, her hands at her sides, head down, and eyes closed.

“My friends,” Joe announced to the guys in the room, and to a degree, Paulina. “Our new friend Alison is now in a deep hypnotic trance.”

I was absolutely scared shitless. I had no fucking clue what I should do.

On the video, Joe stood close to Alison, whispering deep into her ear, and his hands wrapping her lower waist. “Alison,” he said, the microphone picking him up again, “You are deeply hypnotized right now. It feels absolutely wonderful. You’ve never felt better in your life. So relaxed, so happy. You’re in a safe place and trust me completely. In fact, you can only hear my voice.

“And because you trust me completely, you know it’s safe to believe everything that I tell you. You follow all of my instructions without question. You are completely under my hypnotic control, and you are no longer in control. Do you understand? If so, repeat it back to me now.”

“I am no longer in control,” my wife said to this stranger.

“Very good,” Joe said. “And it feels amazing. Better than anything you can remember. You love this feeling more than anything, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Alison said enthusiastically.

I saw Joe the asshole glance over at his buddies with a mischievous look. That video ended there. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I frantically went to the next text in the chain. This time I could tell it was Alison texting and not Paulina. She told me how she tried smoking ‘Hypno Weed’ and she loved it. There was also a quick clip of her holding a regular Aquafina water bottle that she must have been told was some kind of bong. Fuck. That was the last text, and this sure as hell wasn’t heading to a good place.

Now frantic, I tried calling several times before I received a text saying that was clearly from Joe. He callously told me how beautiful my wife was and what a lucky guy I am. He then asked if I had watched all of the linked videos.

Shit! What did this fucker do?

I quickly went into my email and clicked the first link; Alison was lying on her back naked and the phone was zoomed in on her, she had a huge smile on her face as she was getting fingered and moaning really loud. Alison then asked Joe to “put your cock back in my mouth please.” I couldn’t fucking believe it.

He quickly spun up next to her and started feeling her tits with one hand while videoing her naked body, my wife then reached out to his cock and started to jerk him off saying “I love your cock Master Chicago HypnoJoe”…

30 seconds went by before she took his cock in her mouth. He started to moan as she blew him, this lasted about two minutes before she pulled his dick out and licked it bottom to top. While he was fingering her pussy, I heard him say “who do you belong to?”

"I belong to you, Master Chicago HypnoJoe" she moaned loudly. My heart broke.

Alison played with his dick for about a full minute while he touched her all over and she moaned, grunted and started begging “Fuck me, fuck me please!” In all our years together, she had never, ever been that needy for sex. It was almost unfathomable to me. Seeing her so… wanton… affected me, I’m ashamed to say.

I realized I had started playing with my own incredibly rock hard dick, but to state I was pissed and shocked is an understatement. I could not believe what I was seeing after 12 years together, was this the mother of my children? The girl I loved dearly, so deeply under this creep’s hypnotic control? The video went black.

As sweat dripped down my brow, I clicked to the next video and Alison was on all fours as he was giving it to her from behind, her ass cheeks were spread wide open and sticking up in the air. I heard her begging for it harder, telling him to go deeper and faster. He was grunting that he was about to cum.

Alison started moaning back at him that she wanted to taste him. Out of breath, he told her to get on her knees. She quickly rolled off his cock and spun to the side of the bed, he dropped the phone and I heard moans as the video ended.

The next video again had my precious wife on her knees as Joe was sitting on the bed. I heard female moans from the person holding the iphone, and I realized it must have been Paulina. Alison was blowing Joe while he held the back of her head, she was sucking, licking, moaning and begging for more of his “hypno cock”.

I heard her mutter “I wanna taste your cum again”. He was shifting side to the side as she was clearly taking him deep, using her tongue like a pro and working towards a climax. That’s when I realized this must have been a fair amount of time after the previous video. Enough for fucking Joe to be able to get hard again.

I'm lucky to get one blow job a year, but here she was begging for him to cum in her mouth for a second time in one night! Soon I watched as she appeared to swallow his cum and he fell back, in orgasmic bliss as she worshipfully cleaned his cock.

When that video ended, I realized I had to hope and pray that this doesn't end up on some amateur porn website. But from the looks of his Chicago HypnoJoe site, things did not bode well. We are well known in our suburban community here. It could be really bad if this got out.

The fourth video was aimed at the two of them as Alison bounced up and down on top of him, they were embraced in a chair kissing passionately as she rode him. They went hard and fast for a few minutes before she started to orgasm, she let out some of the loudest cries of pleasure I have ever heard.

I texted back some swears to Joe, telling him I was going to the police. He texted back, and I could just tell he was laughing at me. He was rather confident that I would not go to the police.

He then texted me a picture of Alison using the Aquafina water bottle as a bong again. A text followed that she ‘looooves’ hitting the hypno weed.

I responded with more swears. They didn’t seem to rattle him. He just told me that she wouldn’t miss her plane, but for me to expect responses to be very limited until she arrives back in Houston. He was right, as that was the last text I got from her all day.

I was freaking out all day. I dealt with the kids, etc, but I was losing my shit internally. We were waiting at Hobby International airport at 8:30 as planned. That’s when I finally got another text.

She just said that she had landed, and she couldn’t wait to see us. Then she gave information about what departure door she’d be at so we could pick her up. She got in the car, so happy to see the kids. She gave me a warm kiss and thanked me for taking care of everything over the weekend. It all seemed so… regular.

She was talking to the kids the whole ride home. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I began to wonder if she even knew what happened. Could the hypnotist have made her forget? Not impossible.

We put the kids to bed as soon as we got in, as it was pretty late for them. She then said she wanted to hop in the shower real quick. I always do that when I get off a plane, so that made perfect sense to me. I sat on the bed while she was in there. Images of what I saw her doing flashed through my mind. I hated them so much, but they were hot. Her begging to be fucked, etc. I couldn’t help but get lost in those thoughts, and hard.

I didn’t even hear her get out of the shower. When she did, she saw my hand on my dick.

“Were you looking at porn while I was gone?” she half joked and half admonished. I jumped when she said that, as she startled me.

“I-I, well, I” I stumbled. In some ways, I had been watching porn. By this point though, I was convinced she knew nothing of it. I just admitted to watching some ‘conventional’ porn.

“Mmmmm. Well, I’m not mad. You did a great job with the kids while I was gone. You deserve a little dalliance…” she said as she squirted some moisturizer on her hand. She then came next to me, freed my dick from my pants and started giving me a handjob.

“Why don’t you tell me about what you were watching?” she said, likely assuming it was girl on girl or something. I didn’t speak. Her hand on my dick felt really good. Of course, it wasn’t lost on my that I was getting a hand job, and she was begging for Chicago HypnoJoe’s dick 24 hours earlier.

“Did you ever imagine me doing some of the things that you were watching?” She said sexily. Again, she was completely oblivious to the truth. However, that question did me in, and I came hard. My cum shot straight up in the air. She gave a little yelp and dodged it like it was lava.

With that, I fell asleep, hard. I had been on such an emotional roller coaster over the last 18 hours. So, I’m ashamed to admit, this, but I didn’t do anything about this situation for the next three days. This is partly because they were three very busy days. We were hosting Thanksgiving, and Alison had lost the weekend to visiting Paulina. So, as the hostesss, she was behind the eight ball all week. I helped where I could, but that was largely just getting pizza for dinner. The other reason I avoided it was because I had no fucking clue what to do. I had no idea if she had any idea about this. If she did – how do I handle that? If she didn’t – would it cause some sort of trauma? I was at a loss.

Soon enough, it was Thanksgiving. My brother and his wife were over, as were her parents and her brother’s family. As always, Alison pulled it off and everything was perfect. She is an incredible wife, mother, and hostess. She did amazing job.

I had just finished carving the turkey, and we were just a few minutes into eating when the doorbell rang. As all of our scheduled guests had arrived, I had no idea who it could be. I got up to answer the door, and there was a small, private courier van in the drive way. This was not UPS or FedEx, this was a specially hired courier. I opened the door, a guy gave me a beautifully wrapped, very big square box with a tag that said, from Paulina with love. FUCK. I signed for the package to get the guy out of here, but I knew I had to get rid of this box. I figured if I could dash up to the attic, I could hide it there until Alison went to sleep. I turned to make my play… and she was right behind me.

“What’s that?” She said, taking the box out of my hand. I had no idea how she was going to react. She looked at the tag, she gave me a quizzical look. I could tell she had no idea what it was as she brought it to the kitchen counter, which was still cluttered with supplies from our Thanksgiving feast, which was now getting cold in the other room.

She quikly unwrapped the bow on the box and opened the lid. Inside, there was a big, stuffed animal turkey, and what could only be described as a ‘sexy pilgrim costume’.

“What the fuck is that?” I yell whispered. I didn’t want to attract attention from our guests, but still… what the fuck was that?

Alison held it up. There was a bonnet, and a dark brown velvet corset with a big, white cotton collar. There were brown knee high velvet boots in there too. There was a note from Paulina inside, “for some sexy fun later xoxxo”

Alison laughed. “She’s crazy – you know that” she said to me with a smile. “Maybe she thinks you have a Pilgrim fetish?” she laughed.

“Alison darling, can you be a dear…” my Mother in law called out from the dining room. It was like the woman had a sixth sense of when to best interrupt. Alison gave me a wink and went back into the dinning room. I followed, but only after putting the costume back in the box and tying the lid back on. We didn’t need her father or someone seeing that, thank you very much. We finished dinner, which was fantastic. I had a couple beers, and was soon watching the Lions with the guys. I actually forgot about the weirdo stuff going on for a while.

Early in the fourth quarter, I went to go grab another round of beers. The ladies were still in the dining room, well, all the ladies except Alison. I looked in the kitchen, and she wasn’t in there either. I glanced over to the bathroom, and the door was open, no one was in there. That was odd. I asked where she was.

“I don’t know. She got a phone call on her cellular telephone, then she just up and walked away. Rather rude. Not how I raised her.” Her mother said.

Fuck.

I doubled back into the kitchen, the box was gone. I started to panic, I ran into the bedroom. Inside, Alison was kneeling on the edge of the bed wearing the sexy pilgrim costume, with the big stuffed animal turkey between her legs. Across from her, on our bureau was her phone, she was recording herself.

“I am deeply hypnotized by Chicago HypnoJoe” she said, over and over again as she rhythmically grinded on the stuffed turkey. Her breathing got more ragged as she got more and more turned on. My own breathing was very labored as well, as I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I couldn’t believe it. I was also getting hard.

“Alison, you are ignoring your guests, this is very rude!” I heard her mother yell. In what was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my life, I closed the door and went back down to distract her mom.

Alison came out about 25 minutes later, and she was just chatting with the ladies as if nothing had happened.

When everyone left that night, I looked up Chicago HypnoJoe’s website. Sure enough, new offering on his pay side. There was a promo video of Hypnotized Thanksgiving MILFs. I saw a quick teaser clip of Alison in the Pilgrim Costume grinding on the turkey on our bed. Next to her on a split screen was Paulina in a sexy (albeit culturally inappropriate) Native American costume doing the same thing, also saying “I am deeply hypnotized by Chicago HypnoJoe” while grinding on a stuffed turkey.

Oh Shit. (But yes, I put in my credit card)

[wintersera]

stupid fucking tumblr didnt let me post on here so i had to press down onto the damn app and press post on there 😭

ANYWAYS! i’m dying to write something rn and i just woke up from a small nap yes, it is almost 5am for me LEAVE ME ALONE

[un-pearable]

y’all know not of the deep and complex world of early s2 i have built within my head that will never see the light of day. you simply can never beat the sitcom premise of literal prophesied heroes fucked up what they thought was their Big MomentTM and now are training the actual prophesied baby protagonist in a tiny apartment with normal ass jobs while their big villain gloats about beating the other big bad/is beloved by civilians/is mourning the inevitablity of fighting his son. and is also financially extorting their new loser pal whose dojo they borrow. comedy gold

lloyd dareth hoodie real