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#absolutely ridiculous how lovely of it to do so
paperclipninja · 2 days
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I'm gonna sound very old person yells at cloud but I don't care, I feel like I need to say this. We all (well most of us) know that messaging Neil with any headcanons/theories/wishes/hopes/dreams to do with the show is a no-go because it could potentially compromise the story he wants to tell or ends up telling. And yes, he is a grown up who chooses what to respond to etc and I think it's wonderful he engages with fans and answers a lot of lovely and interesting questions about his process, writing and journey etc.
However, there is another reason not to send theories and ideas about how the show should go to the show creator in the hope of a response: it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter whether a theory is correct, or a speculation may or may not play out. That is why fandom exists.
Online fandom is where we all come together to yell and cry and throw around weird-ass ideas and theories and look at art and read fanfic and unite in our love of characters and a show. A huge part of being in fandom, is the way fandom theories become like an understood little bit of fanon lore that some people attach to, others disregard. But it doesn't matter. And part of the fun of fandom, is when a new season or a new episode of the show comes out, you have this collective catalogue of ideas and theories and headcanons and you get to yell and scream, "omg it happened1" or "lol that that thing was ever talked about" or "thank god that theory didn't come to pass".
Wanting to know now (not that we ever will) and not wanting to wait until the next season to find out the answers diminishes the fandom experience. I cannot stress enough how much we are in the absolute peak of the fandom experience right now. The between seasons time is the ultimate time to be a part of a fandom (as I'm sure many people are well aware), knowing there's another season coming energises everyone to create and connect and speculate and it's glorious! I know it feels like it'll be like this forever, but it won't. Next season is the last and yes, there will be a flurry and uptick of all the energy and excitement once again, and I absolutely believe Good Omens fandom will live on and remain active and thrumming. But there won't be theories and what ifs and hunting for clues for the next season, and over time it will dwindle a little and plateau and some people will fall into other fandoms, and while it will probably bubble away, there won't be the anticipation that sits with us now.
My point is, fandom is where we get to throw around ideas and flail and be ridiculous and also serious sometimes, but it's all for us. For the fans. Showing Neil theories or getting in a flap about a particular speculation and asking if x, y, or z might happen isn't just about putting the creator in an awkward spot, it takes away what fandom is about. Just let this time be ours. If you haven't been in fandom before, enjoy it! Don't be in a hurry to seek definitive answers or know things either way.
It doesn't matter if any or none or all of the things that float around end up being correct or incorrect. Fandom isn't about being right. It's about being a part of a community and being able to share ideas and it's about it being FUN.
So TL;DR Stop sending Neil fan ideas because that is for fandom, not for the creator.
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You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.
Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!
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༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
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— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader
— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?
— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!
— wc: 3136
⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)
masterlist | AO3
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As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.
“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 
You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 
You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.
“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.
“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”
“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.
“Absolutely not -”
“What? No -”
Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.
“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”
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“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.
You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.
His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 
It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.
Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.
“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 
“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 
Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 
“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.
Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.
“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.
Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.
“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”
Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.
He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 
Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 
Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.
Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.
But you were going to.
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You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.
The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.
“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 
Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.
The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”
“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.
Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.
“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”
“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 
“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.
“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”
You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”
“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”
And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.
Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.
“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”
“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”
His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”
When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.
“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 
His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.
“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 
The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.
After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.
“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.
He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”
He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.
You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.
“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.
His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.
“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 
“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.
“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 
Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.
“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.
“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.
“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 
“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”
“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”
He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.
But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.
“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 
You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.
He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.
You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.
You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 
Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.
Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.
“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 
The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.
“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.
“Mphm! More - I need more.”
“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.
“I - I’m gonna cum.” 
It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.
Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.
It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.
“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”
“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.
There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”
“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 
“How about ice cream?”
“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”
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ginnsbaker · 21 hours
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)
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Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII
-
The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.
You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh. 
But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.
[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.
[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?
You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.
[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?
As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.
[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆
You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.
[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.
Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.
[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.
Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.
[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?
Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?
Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.
It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.
[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂
You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text. 
And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.
-
[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.
-
As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter. 
It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.
And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.
So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a  simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.
[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌
You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.
[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?
Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.
-
You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.
Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”
Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”
You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny. 
Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you. 
She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”
You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.
Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”
“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.
Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.
“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”
Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.
“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.
“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly. 
You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.
“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.
“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”
“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.
“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in. 
“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.
“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”
You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”
“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”
“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Just meet someone.”
“You make it sound like it’s easy.”
“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”
-
Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her. 
So, she does what she does best: Pretend.
Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.
Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to. 
Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.
And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.
She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.
Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.
Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.
[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.
Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.
[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.
Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?
As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.
[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️
It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.
[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.
[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊
Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.
-
Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him. 
Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.
Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.
And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend. 
-
The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home. 
They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.
“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.
Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”
“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”
If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.
“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away. 
“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.
“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly. 
Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.
“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.
“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.
“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”
Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.
“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?” 
Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?
Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?
But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.
“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.
“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal. 
Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.
“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”
Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.
Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood: 
“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”
Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.
A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?
Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.
She's with Danny now.
-
Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.
It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.
When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.
Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.
It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.
-
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.
She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.
“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.
“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.
“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.
“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”
“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”
Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.
“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.
“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”
You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”
You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”
“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.
“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place. 
You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.
“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.
Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.
Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?
And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.
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'Intro'
[STUDIO; WHITE BACKGROUND, YN & CAITLIN SITTING BEHIND A TABLE WITH TWO DUFFLE BAGS IN FRONT OF THEM - YN LEANING BACK, LAUGHING - CAITLIN LEANING ONTO YN LAUGHING]
YN FOORD (LAUGHING); Give me that! (PULLING OUT A SIGNED 'CAITLIN FOORD, NUMBER NINE' MATILDAS JERSEY OUT OF CAITLIN'S DUFFLE BAG) Oh my God. (SHOWING THE CAMERA, BEFORE THROWING IT BACK AT CAITLIN) Put it on.
CAITLIN FOORD (LAUGHING, TAKING THE JERSEY OFF YN); I don't know who put this in my bag because-
YN FOORD; -You did! Bloody love ya self don't ya.
(CAITLIN LAUGHING, AS SHE SHAKES HER HEAD AND HER RIGHT HAND)
YN FOORD (LOOKS DIRECTLY AT THE CAMERA); Can you believe what I have to put up with (POINTING AT CAITLIN, SHAKING HER HEAD) Bloody ridiculous.
[SCREEN, YN AND CAITLIN FOORD, SITTING BEHIND A TABLE WITH TWO DUFFLE BAGS IN FRONT OF THEM AND LOOKING AT THE CAMERA]
YN FOORD; Hello, I'm Yn Foord (LOOKS RIGHT, AT CAITLIN)
CAITLIN FOORD; I'm Caitlin Foord
YN FOORD & CAITLIN FOORD; And this is our kit bag.
(TURNING TO EACH OTHER, CLAPPING EACH OTHERS HAND)
YN FOORD; Look at us go!
CAITLIN FOORD; Absolute animals.
'Shoes'
[SCREEN, PLAYING CLIPS OF YN AND CAITLIN FOORD AT CAMP FOR THE MATILDAS - SCREEN, YN PULLING OUT SHOES FROM HER DUFFLE BAG]
YN FOORD; Shoes.
[CAITLIN PULLS SHOES OUT OF HER DUFFLE BAG]
CAITLIN FOORD; Shoes.
YN FOORD; Love me some great shoes.
CAITLIN FOORD; Oh yeah. Definitely.
YN FOORD (NODDING TOWARDS CAITLIN'S SHOES IN HER HAND); I see you've copied me with the white shoes.
CAITLIN FOORD; I- (LAUGHING) What? God, you're annoying.
YN FOORD (RAISING HER EYEBROWS, SHRUGGING HER SHOULDERS); I'm telling mum you said that.
(CAITLIN FOORD LOOKING AT THE SCREEN WITH HER MOUTH OPEN, 'SHOCKED')
YN FOORD; ANYWAY. Moving on. Shoes, can't really go wrong I guess. I have about five pairs that I just rotate, (LOOKING AT CAITLIN) How many pairs of shoes would you say you have Miss Foord?
CAITLIN FOORD; Um. I don't really know if I wanna say that out loud. Too many. Too many to remember.
YN FOORD; Come on. We all know you know how many you have.
(CAITLIN SHAKING HER HEAD)
YN FOORD (HER HANDS HITTING THE TABLE IN A RYTHME); Tell us. Tell us. Tell us.
CAITLIN FOORD; Ugh! Fine. Like thirty? Forty? I don't know.
(YN LOOKING AT CAITLIN WITH WIDE EYES AND HER MOUTH OEPN, BEFORE SLOWLY TURNING TOWARDS THE CAMERA)
YN FOORD; Forty pairs of shoes?! What on earth do you need forty pairs of shoes for? (CAITLIN OPENS HER MOUTH TO TALK BUT YN CUTS HER OFF) -Nah, nah. I actually can't believe that. That's wild man. Absolutely wild.
'Headphones'
[SCREEN, CAITLIN PULLING OUT HEADPHONES FROM HER DUFFLE BAG]
CAITLIN FOORD; Headphones.
(YN FOORD PULLING HEADPHONES FROM HER DUFFLE BAG)
YN FOORD (SINGING); Headphones!
CAITLIN FOORD (LOOKING AT YN'S HEADPHONES); Yours are so dirty.
YN FOORD (LOOKING OFFENDED); You're dirty. Shut up.
CAITLIN FOORD; Real mature. And you're meant to be the older one out of the two of us?
YN FOORD (MIMICKING); And you're meant to be the older one. Shut up. No one likes you.
CAITLIN FOORD (CAITLIN LAUGHING BEFORE TURNING HER ATTENTION BACK TO THE SCREEN); Headphones. A definite must on camp (SHOWING THE SCREEN, AND THAN YN HER HEADPHONES) I thought I bought noise-cancelling ones, but I didn't so. Guess that's that.
YN FOORD (MUTTERING UNDER HER BREATH); Ha. Loser. (MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH CAITLIN, BEFORE BOTH BURST INTO LAUGHTER)
(OFF SCREEN) UNKNOWN VOICE; What kind of music is normally played in camps?
YN FOORD (LOOKING AT CAITLIN, BEFORE LOOKING PAST THE CAMERA); Um, kinda depends on who has the speaker.
CAITLIN FOORD; Yeah. I feel like we mostly all have the same kind of music, but sometimes when we lose Lydia will put on like 'saddest songs mix' and we all just kinda sit in the bus staring at the window contemplating all our live choices.
YN FOORD (LAUGHING); Oh god. Bloody Lydia and her sad songs. We'll be like turn it off and she just turns the volume up louder. (YN MIMICKING LYDIA TURNING THE SPEAKER VOLUME UP, PRETENDING TO LOOK OUT A WINDOW WITH A SORROW LOOK ON HER FACE) And we're all just sitting there watching her in her feels.
CAITLIN FOORD; In her feels?
YN FOORD (SHRUGGING HER SHOULDERS); Yeah I don't know Kyra taught me that.
CAITLIN FOORD; Of course she did.
(OFF SCREEN) UNKNOWN VOICE; What's the fan favourite song currently?
YN FOORD; Ooo. Good question. Um, Strawberry Kisses has been making its way up the ranks lately. Steph loves loves loves that song.
CAITLIN FOORD; You know she never plays it at arsenal
YN FOORD (LAUGHING); It's only allowed at the matildas. Nowhere else.
'Caitlin's Secret Item'
[SCREEN, YN LOOKING INTO CAITLIN'S DUFFLE BAG - YN LEANING BACK, LAUGHING - CAITLIN LEANING ONTO YN LAUGHING]
YN FOORD (LAUGHING); Give me that! (PULLING OUT A SIGNED 'CAITLIN FOORD, NUMBER NINE' MATILDAS JERSEY OUT OF CAITLIN'S DUFFLE BAG) Oh my God. (SHOWING THE CAMERA, BEFORE THROWING IT BACK AT CAITLIN) Put it on.
CAITLIN FOORD (LAUGHING, TAKING THE JERSEY OFF YN); I don't know who put this in my bag because-
YN FOORD; -You did! Bloody love ya self don't ya.
(CAITLIN LAUGHING, AS SHE SHAKES HER HEAD AND HER RIGHT HAND)
YN FOORD (LOOKS DIRECTLY AT THE CAMERA); Can you believe what I have to put up with (POINTING AT CAITLIN, SHAKING HER HEAD) Bloody ridiculous.
(CAITLIN PUTS THE JERSEY ON, PUFFING HER CHEST WHILST LOOKING AT THE CAMERA WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE)
YN FOORD (LAUGHING, PUSHING CAITLIN'S ARM); Oh my god. She loves herself.
CAITLIN FOORD (SMOOTHING HER JERSEY); This one is actually for my mum. I know how much she likes to wear jerseys of good football players.
YN FOORD (CHOKING); Excuse you. Mum won't have time to wear that junk when she's too busy wearing MY jersey.
CAITLIN FOORD: You're dreaming mate. No chance.
YN FOORD: Oh yeah. You wanna know how confident I am that she'll wear my jersey.
CAITLIN FOORD; Tell us then. How confident are you?
YN FOORD (PULLING OUT HER PHONE FROM HER POCKET, THE DIAL TONE STARTING TO RING). Imma call her.
(PHONE RINGS FOR THREE DIALS BEFORE PICKING UP)
SIMONE FOORD (THROUGH THE PHONE); Hello Lovie?
YN FOORD (SMILING); Hi mum, how you going?
SIMONE FOORD; Nothing much, can't complain. How'd the media day go with Cait?
CAITLIN FOORD; We're in the middle of one now, hi mum!
SIMONE FOORD; Hi sweetheart, how are yo- (YN FOORD CUTTING HER OFF)
YN FOORD; -yeah mum, she's fine. Question. At the World Cup who's jersey are you going to wear? Mine or adopted over here?
SIMONE FOORD; My Alanna Kennedy jersey just arrived in the mail this morning. I tried to get one for Mackenzie but they don't sell hers. How ridiculous.
YN & CAITLIN FOORD (WHINING); Mum!
SIMONE FOORD; Anyway I'll leave you two girls to it. Love you both lots and lots. Be nice to each other. Bye! (PHONE CLICKS OFF)
'Boots'
[SCREEN, YN LOOKING AT CAITLIN PULL OUT HER BOOTS FROM HER DUFFLE BAG]
CAITLIN FOORD; Boots.
YN FOORD; Yeah, we got some new boots for the World Cup. Very exciting. (LOOKING AT CAITLIN'S BOOTS, BEFORE PICKING ONE UP) I like yours, they're really nice.
CAITLIN FOORD; Thank you.
YN FOORD (LAUGHING, SHAKING HER HEAD); Thank you? Bloody hell. You are such a dork sometimes, you know that right?
CAITLIN FOORD; Um. (BOTH GIRLS BREAKING INTO LAUGHTER AGAIN)
'Notebook'
[SCREEN, YN PULLING A NOTEBOOK OUT OF HER DUFFLE BAG]
CAITLIN FOORD (SPEAKING AT THE SAME TIME AS YN); Oop. Look at you, you nerd. YN FOORD (SPEAKING AT THE SAME TIME AS CAITLIN); This is my notebook for learning Spanish.
YN FOORD (LAUGHING WITH CAITLIN, SHAKING HER HEAD); Shut up. (CAITLIN PICKING THE NOTEBOOK OUT OF YN'S HANDS). But yeah, that's my notebook that I used to learn Spanish because I'm supposed to be able to speak it.
CAITLIN FOORD (FLIPPING THROUGH THE NOTEBOOK, SHOWING YN A PAGE, AS THEY BOTH LAUGH); Didn't realise it was art class too?
YN FOORD; Yeah, sometimes I get bored, (LAUGHING) so I just kinda draw instead. It's really bad, actually. I should probably stop doing that so much.
CAITLIN FOORD (TRYING TO READ ONE OF THE PAGES); Hola, my. my. (LOOKS AT YN, BOTH LAUGHING) mi nombre es Caitlin?
YN FOORD; Good! (CLAPPING HER HANDS) Hola, mi nombre es Yn. es muy bonito conocerte. 'Hello, my name is YN. it's very nice to meet you'.
CAITLIN FOORD; Hola, mi nombre es Caitlin. (BEAMING AT THE CAMERA ONCE SHE FINISHES)
YN FOORD; There you go! Maybe I can teach you some Spanish during the World Cup.
'Goodbyes!'
[SCREEN, YN AND CAITLIN FOORD, SITTING BEHIND A TABLE WITH TWO DUFFLE BAGS IN FRONT OF THEM AND LOOKING AT THE CAMERA]
YN FOORD; Well there you have it, that's our World Cup kit bag essentials. (YN FOORD GRABBING THE DISCARDED 'CAITLIN FOORD JERSEY' AND THROWING IT AT CAITLIN) Some of us packing absolutely rubbish, but hey. It's a no-judgment zone down under so.
CAITLIN FOORD (SNORTING); no-judgement my ass.
YN FOORD; and with that, it's time to say goodbye! (WAVING AT THE CAMERA) Bye!
CAITLIN FOORD; Bye! (TURNING TO YN, SLAPPING HER ARM) um. oh. adiós! 'goodbye'.
YN FOORD (LOOKING OVER, SMILE ON HER FACE); Hey! Look at you go. (LOOKING BACK AT THE CAMERA WAVING, CAITLIN JOINING IN) adiós! 'goodbye'.
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inspired by; lucy bronze & jordan nobbs reveal their world cup kit bag essentials
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hotluncheddie · 17 hours
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Day 4: Edging
"Bi Freak"
wc: 3.5 | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, bisexual Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington, mean dom Steve Harrington (kinda), degradation, sub top Eddie
written for @subeddieweek <3
📸 📸 📸 📸 📸
‘Jesus, are you hard?’ Steve asks, incredulous at how fucking ridiculous Eddie’s cock can be at times. Even walking just behind him Steve must spot how Eddie’s hands shift to tug at his belt buckle, the way his gait is a little more awkward than usual.  
Eddie freezes, readjusting again as Steve saunters past. Cheeks feeling a little hot over being caught. He was Subtle, or so he thought, but his jeans must just not be tight enough to hide his boner. 
They're walking back to the beamer after eating at the diner in town. A few familiar faces around since its summer. The two of them included, back over from Indi for a visit to see Wayne for his birthday. 
Unfortunately, seeing Wayne means staying with Wayne and while that is wonderful, the walls of the trailer are still, absolutely, the width of paper mache. So, Steve had decided the concept of sex was much too mortifying in those conditions. A different consensus from when they first got together, Eddie had pointed out. But, Steve had just laughed and kissed him, in that condescending way that just made the whole situation so so much harder, figuratively and literally.
Its been a week, basically, and Eddie’s getting desperate, and Steve is getting mean. 
Eddie jogs to catch up to Steve's long strides. ‘Did you see her though? Christ Steve she, she's a vision. A fucking goddess dude.’ 
‘I saw I saw.’ Steve shoves his hands in his jacket, Eddie looming in close at his side.
‘Like she was something then, but now? Bigger and better, did you see? You saw them right?’ Eddie moves his arms around, cups his hands, clenches his fingers. A horny interpretive dance. 
Steve sighs, faux wistfully. ‘Every day I almost forget how much of a tits guy you are, and everyday you just gotta remind me, huh? Munson? What's up with that?’ Steve jabs his elbow into Eddie’s side. Grins at the cackle it elicits. 
‘You know I fundamentally disagree with that question, Stevie. No one should be subjected to a choice like that.’ Eddie laughs, swooping in close to Steve's neck for a moment, in that way he loves. Steve’s elbow coming out to make him back away. 
Steve pulls his keys out of his pocket, the car coming into view, parked in the furthest corner. 
‘Your tits are amazing by the way.’
Steve laughs again. ‘Thanks dude, I know. Lucky for you my ego is big enough to handle your crazy libido.’ 
Eddie grumbles, kicking at a can. ‘Only crazy because of the damn “no touching” rule you set.’ 
‘Aww’ Steve coos, ‘baby cant handle a little teasing anymore?’ He smirks at Eddie, unlocking the car but not opening the door, instead watching Eddie slump over, pouting. 
Steve stalks around to the passenger side, opening the door for him and pulling his arm, shoving Eddie down onto the seat with a hand on his head. 
Eddie whimpers, feels pre-cum leak out of his tip and soak into his boxers. Fuck, he’s hard - worse now. Steve’s not let him have more than a peck, more than a nighttime spoon, for days. 
‘Wanna know a secret?’ Steve asks. 
Eddie’s slumped on the passenger seat, feet still on concrete. He rubs his hands over his burning cheeks and peeks up at the sunshine being blocked from above. Steve leaning a forearm in the car hood, looming over Eddie, caging him in. 
Steve steps right up into Eddie space, shoving his knee onto the seat right between Eddies thighs. crushing his cock. Steve leans in even closer, breath ghosting over Eddie's ear, making him shiver. 
‘I know how she tastes.’ 
Eddie feels like all his air gets gut punched out of him, feels his fucking pupils dilate so much his vision goes blurry. He makes a strangled sort of moan. His boxers flooding with cum.
‘…Did? Did you just?’
Eddies panting so hard all he can really do is nod his head. 
‘You’re so pretty.’ He slurs, staring up at Steve, haloed and lovely and how did Eddie get so lucky?
Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, but he smiles down at him, strokes his cheek and looks at him with eyes full of stars. ‘You can go again through right?’ He asks. 
Eddie beams. ‘Fuck yeah!’ 
Steve laughs, shaking his head. He closes Eddie’s door and gets behind the wheel. Puts on his sunglasses and lays his hand on Eddie’s thigh. ‘No touching while I’m driving. Let's go break into my parents house.’ 
Eddie leans back in the headrest, grinning. ‘By break in, do you mean use the spare key?’
‘Sure do baby. They won't even be there.’ Steve says, and pulls out of the diner parking lot. 
-
Back at Steves Eddie sprawls out in his bedroom, familiar in its ugliness but the mattress has always been to die for.
Eddie listens to the sound of Steve moving through the house, not sure what he’s doing. But they’ve fallen into routines like this before, Eddie waiting upstairs while Steve did whatever it was that made a big empty house like this run smooth. He works the same magic on their apartment; structuring Eddie enough to not get overwhelmed by chores and eventually listening to Eddie’s please to not do it all himself. Steve could work himself to the bone and still ask if Eddie needed a glass of water. But now they have a chart, and Eddie’s always had a knack for laundry. 
But, at times like these, brain directly attached to his dick and almost nowhere else, Eddie wants to be directed.He wants Steve to do exactly as much as he wants, do so exactly as he pleases, Eddie almost an afterthought. 
Yeah, Eddie wants that. He shivers, hears Steves footsteps on the staircase. 
‘Unzip your jeans but don’t take them off.’ Steve says, coming into the room, searching for something. 
Eddie complies quickly, standing. Steve walks out of the room.
Steve walks back in with his shirt off. Looking Eddie up and down, face blank. 
He lifts the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt and shoves it in his mouth, saliva soaking the fabric between his teeth, cool air hitting his exposed nipples. ‘Show me.’ Steve says, calm and neutral, like Eddie is his doll to play with.
He pulls at the waistband of his boxers and his eyes burn as he watches Steve. Refusing to blink, refusing to miss the look on his face once he sees the mess. 
Steve’s eyes roam Eddie’s face for a moment, steely and almost cold. He looks down, raises his eyebrows. Eddie feels his cock twitch at the attention, at the judgment. 
Steve looks back up. ‘Look at it.’ And Eddie glances down, breath hitching at the sight of his cock covered in his own cum, some of it starting to crust but the tip still shiny and wet, leaning against the sodden fabric of his boxers. 
Eddie looks back up at Steve, sees that he watched his whole reaction. Pupils blown wide and Steve's hand has migrated up to tweak at his own nipple. Jealousy burns in Eddie’s gut; that he’s not allowed to touch Steve like that, not yet. 
Eddie whimpers again, he wants to kiss him, wants to eat him. 
‘Fuck’ Steve murmurs, like he can read Eddie’s mind. Maybe he can, or it’s just how good Steve has gotten at reading Eddie’s face.
‘Colour?’ Steve asks.
‘Super fuckin’ green.’ Eddie says around the fabric, grinning, watching Steves smile bloom right back 
‘Good’ Steve pecs his top lip. Eddie surging forward, chasing, letting the wet hem fall. 
Steve stops him with a finger on his chest. His expression smoothing back into one of mild disgust. ‘So needy.’ Steve drawls. ‘Take off everything but your boxers.’ And he’s gone again, leaving Eddie to struggle out of his clothes in a rush. 
Steve walks back in, now only in his boxers too, Eddie can see the outline of his cock through the material and it makes his mouth water. It takes him a second to register that Steve’s holding the Polaroid camera now too. 
‘Show me, like you did before.’ Steve says, fiddling with the camera, waiting. 
Eddie does as he’s told and he feels goosebumps dabble over his skin, heat rushing south so fast it makes his nipples hard. 
Steve takes a photo of eddies cock covered in his own, slightly crusted, cum. The flash taking Eddie’s breath away. 
But Steve just leaves again, without a word. Eddie stands stock still and hears the shower turn on, the faint sound of the camera again. 
Steve comes back in flapping the polaroids. He sets the camera down and walks back over to Eddie, handing him a damp wash cloth. 
‘Clean yourself off.’ He says, leaning on one hip, looking board. ‘And fold your clothes on the desk, boxers on top, they need washing.’ Eyes flashing to Eddie’s, bitchy and judgmental. Eddie moans, even more heat rushing south, his gut churning. 
But Eddie does as he’s told, ignoring the heat between his thighs, Steve’s eyes on him as he settles the clothes in a neat pile. ‘Good. Now grab a pillow and kneel down. You’re gonna watch my photos develop while I shower. That sound okay?’ He asks, condensing, but the question is laced with sweetness, infused with the knowledge that Steve knows Eddie loves him like this, loves being talked to like this. But he can end it any time. Any time either of them want. 
Eddie just nods, bites his lip, turning to the bed to grab a pillow and situate himself on the floor. 
Steve bends and lays the photos in front of where Eddie’s kneeled. Then strokes his cheek with a thumb, making Eddie preen, blinking his eyes closed slowly. 
The crack of the slap registers after the feeling, Eddie’s head turned slightly to the side. Low moan distant to his own ears. 
He blinks his eyes back open, looking up at Steve’s and his pretty face. He thinks there must be spit sliding down his chin, because Steve’s thumb comes to wipe something away, dipping into Eddie’s parted lips gently, for a moment. 
And then Steve turns swiftly for the door, stopping just at the threshold. Eddie eyes snapping back up from where they were looking at his ass and Steve’s stifles a smile. Eddie’s own growing slow and dopey on his face. 
‘You can touch, I want you hard once I’m back. But if you cum again I’m not doing anything with you for a week.’ He says and Eddie blinks at him. Nodding as the words filter through his brain. 
He closes his eyes once Steve leaves and the water turns on. Lets his fingers dance towards his cock, cheek hot and tight and he moves it at the same time he wraps around himself, shoulders hunching around another guttural moan. 
Then he remembers the photos. 
He looks down and laying in front of his bent knees there’s two polaroids. The one of Eddie is almost fully developed, his dark thatch of hair speckled with globs of his own cum, white in contrast and just as noticeable in half crusted patches over the pink flush of his cock. It’s a mess. 
Eddie works himself at the sight, getting to full hardness with a strangled gasp. Remembering Steve eyeing it, remembering what he’d said that caused Eddie to finish so quick. 
The other is still only half developed. But the photos edges are rendering sections of the familiar Harrington bathroom, white tiles and blue walls, shower curtain and the edge of the large ornate mirror. Tan skin starts to become clear, Steve’s big hand holding the camera aloft, taking his own photo using the mirrors reflection, the back of his head. 
Eddie’s hand speeds up and he watches, wide eyed, as Steve’s broad shoulders come into view, the arch and strong length of his back. Eddie bites his lip again, harder, as Steve’s back ends in his bare ass perched on the counter.
The dark ring of a plug just visible between his cheeks. 
Eddie strangles a cry, gripping himself hard at the base, stifling his orgasm and feeling tears spring at his eyes. Steve’s must’ve been wearing that all through their time at the diner, all through the day. Stretched and wet and Eddie clenches his thighs together, covers his mouth with his palm and squeezes his eyes shut. 
‘Fuck. Fuck!’ He mumbles behind his hand, breathing shakily through his nose. Steve is something else.
Finally the shower shuts off and Steve returns. Eddie still kneeling, panting heavily, cock hard and leaking between his thighs. Still coming down from the brink. Steve just smirks at him, running a towel through his hair. 
He lays down on the bed, settling against the headboard. He trails his fingers over himself, tracing his nipple and stomach before giving his cock a few tugs, getting it hard. 
Eddie watches the whole thing, hands still gripping his thighs. 
Eventually Steve’s eyes slide open, that little smirk on his face. He opens his arms for Eddie, motioning him in. 
Eddie scrambles up and into them, kissing and sucking at Steve’s neck and shoulders. Cock already grinding desperately between Steve’s damp cheeks. 
‘You liked the pictures baby?’ Steve whispers, smile in his voice, mouth hot on Eddie’s ear. 
Eddie shivers and pulls back, disbelief on his face. ‘I can’t believe you.’ He gushes. 
Steve smiles at him and his cheeks are flush from the shower, his damp hair is falling into his forehead. ‘Fuck, you’re so pretty.’ Eddie says, always always amazed by Steve. He needs him, wants to be inside. 
He grinds again, catching Steve’s hole, relishing in Steve’s eyes rolling slightly. ‘Get me wet first.’ Steve demands pulling at Eddie’s hair, shoving his head away. 
Eddie bites his lip, cock twitching, he pulls at Steve’s thighs, bending him in half. Dips low to lick a long wet stripe across his ass. Tongue pressing at Steves hole, breaching the already stretched muscle and fucking his tongue in until there’s spit sliding down Steve’s crack. 
Eventually Steve pulls Eddie off by his hair, chest all flushed and nipples hard. 
Reaching over Steve gets the condom and lube from his bedside table. He doesn’t live here anymore, hasn’t for years. But the remnants of their sneaking around before Steve up and left with Eddie and Robin are still there. He never completely fell out with his parents, but he didn’t really tell them where he was going either. They continue to essentially ignore Steve and Steve continues to sneak into their house whenever he’s in Hawkins and fuck his boyfriend in whichever room he pleases. It’s not ideal, but it works. 
‘Gonna show me what that useless cock can do?’ Steve goads, sitting up to roll the condom onto Eddie and slicking him with lube. 
Eddie whines. 
He hitches Steve’s thighs up, forcing him Back flat, hands beneath his knees. Steve sighs into the touch and Eddie watches his length get slowly swallowed by Steve’s tight, wet heat. 
Eddie bottoms out, watching his length disappear. He feels his balls draw up, ears ringing and he’s so close. He’s so close. 
The slap makes him stutter, eye wide as he stare at Steve. ‘Do not cum.’ Steve seethes, finger in eddies face, like he’s a misbehaving child. Eddie moans, gripping Steves thighs to hold himself still, breathing deeply through his nose to stave off his orgasm. 
He stays buried in Steve, willing himself back down. Panting, he feels tears prickle at his eyes again. ‘That’s it.’ Steve soothes, hand coming up to stroke over the red mark he left on Eddie’s face. 
Eddie breaths, eyes closed, feels the tendrils in his gut uncoil slightly. No longer right on the brink. 
Eventually he opens them, Steve’s eyes on him. Eddie leans down, hands either side of Steve’s face. He starts moving his hips again, building a steady pace. 
‘You should’ve touched yourself in front of her today.’ Steve says, looking up at Eddie with that closed off look again, haughty and judgmental. Eddie moans. ‘What do you think she would’ve done? If you got your stupid needy cock out in the diner, you think she would’ve laughed?’ Steve asks, voice mean and even, the only sign of arousal the flutter of his eyelashes as Eddie thrusts especially deep. 
‘Fuck Steve.’ Eddie pants, thinking about it. ‘I used to think about that while you were at Scoops’ He admits, eyes watching Steve, watching his smirk broaden. 
‘Yeah? You would’ve got your big dumb cock out on the counter for me while I scooped ice cream?’ 
Eddie’s hips stutter, he’s getting close again. ‘Yeah, used, u-used to go jack off in the bathrooms after seeing you at that mall. In that outfit. Fuck Steve, wanted you so bad.’ Eddie whines. 
Steve coos, finger trailing up Eddie’s sweaty neck. ‘Who knew the freak would be so needy’
Eddie whimpers feeling a blush spread down his chest. He moves his hips faster, wanting to get in deeper. 
Steve cracks, moaning. ‘Fuck, make me cum baby, get me there.’ Steve says, gripping his own cock now. Other hand holding him in place with the headboard. Eddie going faster, deeper, grazing that spot he knows so well inside Steve. 
Steve throws his head back, releasing all over himself with a shout, soft hair splayed across the pillow and cheeks flushed pink. Eddie slows, grinding. He’s so close again, so achingly hard he can feel his pre dripping out, filling the condom. 
‘I think I would’ve let you. Maybe Played with your cock while I worked.’ Steve pants. ‘But only if you cleaned up after yourself.’ And he scoops up some of the cum from his stomach and chest, feeding it into Eddie’s slack mouth. 
Eddie sucks, swallowing and tasting salt, flooding his mouth with saliva, some slipping out down his chin. ‘’Teve.’ He pleads, garbled. Begging for permission. His eyes wide and wet, hips unable to stop. 
‘You wanna cum baby?’ Steve asks, holding Eddie’s jaw with his spit slick fingers, fucking his own hips down onto Eddie’s cock. 
Eddie nods, whining, digging his fingers into the sheets, trying not to think about what will happen if he comes too soon. 
‘What are you baby? Are you my little freak, my little perv?’ Steve teases. 
Eddie shivers, nodding, his whole body shaking in an attempt to stave off his orgasm. Shame writhing filthily in his gut, threatening to spill. 
Steve pulls Eddie closer, kissing his cheek and letting him burrow his face in Steve’s neck. Eddie licks over his moles, wants to mark him, burrow his cock inside and never leave. ‘Thats it, my dumb thing, fucking me so good.’ Steve pets over Eddie’s hair as his hips speed up, thrusting into Steve harder, the sounds of skin slapping echoing through the house. 
‘Cum for me.’ Steve whispers, hot breath sending shivers down his back. Eddie’s rhythm turning sloppy and desperate as he thrusts deep one last time. Cumming and crying out into Steve’s neck, tears slipping onto Steve’s skin and Eddie clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks. 
He cums for so long he’s almost numb, shaky and boneless as he falls on top of Steve. 
Steve holds him close, threading his fingers through Eddie’s sweaty hair and whispering praise in his ear. 
Eventually Eddie moves slightly from on top of Steve, letting his softening cock slip out and his head rest on Steve’s chest. Listening to his heart beat. ‘Good boy, you’re my good boy Eddie.’ Steve says softly, threading his fingers into Eddie’s curls to massage his scalp. 
Eddie groans, boneless and satiated. ‘Was I too mean?’ Steve asks from above him. 
‘Fuck no. Made me cum my whole brain out.’ Eddie slurs, pressing his forehead between Steve’s hairy pecs. 
Steve tsks him, tugging at Eddie’s hair. The sharp pain making Eddie hiss and he sucks one of Steve’s nipples into his mouth, clamping down on top of him so he can’t wriggle away. 
‘Okay, okay! Quit it, you monster.’ Steve laughs, shoving Eddie’s face off. 
Eddie sits back in his heels, laughing, finally taking the condom off and tossing it onto the floor. ‘You want another shower before we head back to Wayne’s?’ He asks, petting distractedly at Steve’s pink hole, still shiny with lube. 
‘Ye just gimme a sec.’ Steve says, stretching, making Eddie’s fingertip slip inside. ‘And quit playing with that, what are you, a perv?’ He asks, smirking up at him. 
Eddie grins, lunging back on top of Steve and biting his shoulder. 
Steve yelps and Eddie scoops him up, carrying him bridal style to the bathroom. 
‘Oh! Stevie, remind me to put those polaroids in my wallet. I think I’ll get a lot of use out of ‘em.’ Eddie says, dumping Steve on the closed toilet and turning the shower on. 
📸 📸 📸 📸 📸
Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m
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korlkorl · 14 hours
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things that get azul, ruggie & sebek flustered
fic vomit uwu
azul
nothing. absolutely nothing. don't get him wrong, there are many things that you do to get him all flushed and embarrassed like the sweet cherry tomato you pop in your mouth. it's just that azul has never loved someone so much before, there is no way he can have a favourite, when you as a whole is his favourite thing in the entire world.
the way your eyelashes flutter when you blink; the slow motion of your chest heaving up and down— he finds all of them so loveable. he's on his knees for you, please be merciful, jade and floyd will never let him see the end of it. he already knows how shamefully he acts when he's around you, the inexplainable desire to want to see you gasp in surprise, impressed with whatever new thing azul wanted to show off. give him a kiss after and watch him freeze and heat up.
ruggie
oddly enough, what gets him flustered about you is when he does something. ruggie is someone who values his hard work and sufficiency. because of this, he doesn’t believe people do favors simply because of their nature. like him, he thinks everyone has a motive. somehow, that mindset is slowly starting to alter.
it wasn't much to begin with— he'd sometimes find himself swiping a little extra than usual, risking the possibility of being caught because he stole more than he should. for some reason, that little extra amount wasn't for himself as a cheeky reward, no. it was actually for you.
he'd casually hand some food to you on his way and sometimes, if he doesn't manage to get enough for the both of you, he'd always split it half if possible, much to his classmate's horror. (ruggie bucchi? THE ruggie bucchi?? sharing??? is this heaven????)
at a point, he realized what he was doing. it's completely out of character for him, what in the world was he thinking? but he was too deep now, he couldn't seem to live day by day without giving you a little gift at least once anymore.
eventually, ruggie went from nonchalantly giving you half of his donuts or letting you copy some of his work that you forgot to do to instead turning a deep hue of multiple reds (in the span of 0.2 seconds!) as he sheepishly handed you things. oh well, there's no turning back now.
sebek
he’d always found it off putting on how this magically gifted mother ever found herself in love with his average father, who was much more soft spoken and loving. He couldn’t seem to fully grasp how his mother ever saw any appeal in his father.
it was a ridiculous notion. someone as talented as her stooping for someone as low as him?! that's crazy! don't worry, sebek loves his father very much. but he's also strongly opinionated.
for someone who claims his opinions and ideals hardly change, they seem to sway as easily as they came when you entered his life. you were much sweeter, kinder and caring than sebek could ever be. he was hardly a spec of dust in your presence. maybe that's what tugged at his heart. you were average. there was nothing inherently special about you, just a normal human. to him, you were his god.
sometimes, when you cage his fingers against yours, lean your head against his shoulder and smile, sebek starts to wonder what has ever had happen for this to ever happen.
sebek is a lot of things. he's human, he's fae, he's a wizard and he's yours. he flushes in embarassment when he thinks about this. what did you do to him for him to be so hopeless around you? he turns red when he thinks about how easily you managed to change him.
a.n: hihi hope u enjoy... also dont forget to put some requests in my inbox!! i am running out of ideas... i just started working on a request and i think it's gonna be very long so im gonna let my inbox marinate so i can binge write all of them... i love writing...
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beatrixstonehill2 · 15 hours
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"I don't know why I was so worried when my doctor put me on fertility drugs. I feel so stupid! I hear these drugs make you dumber, but I think that's an urban legend, just another ridiculous thing the old me worried about! I was a stuck-up attorney who never dated, who woke up at 4 every morning, went jogging, and ate grapefruit for breakfast with black coffee. I was mean, and rolled my eyes whenever men flirted with me. I was literally the worst! But ever since my doctor gave me these new prescriptions, my life has gotten a bajillion times better.
First of all, my appetite and libido came back. I told him I barely ate, didn't even masturbate, I was too focused on work. He seemed to know exactly what my body needed..... I was obviously skeptical about taking this stuff but look at me now! This is my second pregnancy, last one was quadruplets, I think this might be at least sextuplets? Holy fuck, I'm gonna get SO big, isn't that hot as hell? I won't fit into anything! I hope my boss is OK with my huge baby-filled belly sticking out. I'll look so ripe and ready to fuck all the time! After all, what better signal can a woman give to men that she's free to fuck, but a belly full of kids?
Oh yeah, did I mention? I'm not an attorney anymore. My libido got way too distracting to worry about all that dumb work I was so concerned about for, like, no reason! So I'm a secretary now for this lawyer I used to butt heads with all the time. He used to love harassing me and flirting aggressively with me, even smacking my ass. I used to get so angry with him; now, when he spanks me or grabs my breasts I just giggle and get turned on. I love working for him, and when I do extra well he rewards me by letting me suck his cock, or if he's in the mood he'll fuck me when he's in a meeting in front of all my old colleagues. The looks on their faces watching me full of kids, with a massive pair of udders, getting railed by HIM is just priceless!
On the subject of my breasts, I hope everyone here on my OnlyFans likes them. I've gone up six cup sizes since starting these pills! Isn't that crazy? I bet they're small compared to how gigantic they'll get a few pregnancies from now. I'm soooo excited to see how big they're gonna get, or if they're even gonna stop growing. Men absolutely drool over them, and when they see these huge boobs paired with a belly brimming with more kids than I can count, they know it's a free invitation to fuck me. Whether we're on the subway, the bus, or I'm at the bank, depositing my boss's checks..... Guys will take me by the hips and pump me so full of cum it'll be drooling down my legs all day--as all women should be, far as I'm concerned. Full to the point of bursting with cum. I used to be so grossed out when I saw college girls in sundresses, super pregnant, their big breasts falling out, cum hanging from their asses and pussies, drooling down their legs, just gushing with it, cum of their faces or tits as they happily talk on their phones or with their equally pregnant friends. Now I see they were the lucky ones.... And I definitely wasted my time in college not being like them, but it's never too late to be a good girl and show men I know what my true purpose really is. ❤️"
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capn-twitchery · 2 days
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I love your ocs but I fear I am a bit out of touch with some of their lore. how much does Grace know about the red honey fuckery?
thank you sm!! :D♥︎ don't worry--i'm not sure i've actually spoken about this a whole lot!! (plus my lore is scattered around random posts like a ransom note. imagine being organised, couldn't be me)
for context: the two of them are a ridiculously slow slowburn bc neither of them know how to talk about feelings, they go in different directions a lot, twitch's response to Having Feelings (or anything) is to disappear to zee. everything takes forever. there's a summary of their timeline here if you want it !!
ANYWAY to answer:
tl;dr summary: most of the time, nothing! eventually, more than anybody else.
so, for most of the time, grace knows absolutely nothing. nobody does, really--twitch doesn't tell anybody, they don't want to talk about it, nobody sees their face at all.
as far as anyone knows, including grace, twitch's bad memory, lying & inconsistent stories are just a personality quirk. and they get sick sometimes, they just need bedrest & won't be available for a few hours, a day, a couple of days. nobody is allowed to see them.
grace remains mostly unaware for a long time--he has inklings that something is up. once he gets to know twitch better, he can tell they're not themself sometimes. but prying would push twitch away, so he just offers help, if they want company, for their headaches the surgeon mentioned. he'll leave the cabin door unlocked, just in case.
he has no idea how bad the "headaches" are until it's happening right in front of him, once they're close enough for twitch to trust him to that degree. he has no idea why it's happening, but he knows twitch doesn't want to tell him, either. and when they're sobbing in his lap, pleading for something he doesn't understand to stop, begging him to help them tie a blindfold because they don't want him to see their face, it's not exactly the time to pry.
it happens a few times. it never gets easier, and it never gets any clearer. it's not til after grace leaves for the new sequence and comes back that he finally sees their face uncovered. he doesn't connect any dots-whether that's because he genuinely just doesn't make the connection, or because twitch doesn't want him to make a big deal about it, who knows!
while he was gone, twitch starts connecting some dots: something's weird with their memories. they don't know how to process it. they bring it up subtly, ask grace if he knows anything about red honey, and maybe he can figure it out himself. he tells them he does, he learned about it during nemesis, in the palace cage gardens. it still haunts him, sometimes, the prisoners with their crying, the suffering the hollow looking eyes-
the eyes.
everything clicks all at once-twitch's eyes, their headaches, the memory issues, the inconsistencies, the lies. it only gets worse when twitch tells him they're starting to wonder if the memories are all theirs.
oh, god. how could anybody do that to them? who did that to them? but twitch doesn't want him on any kind of revenge mission, they don't even think they remember where the cage garden was, and they don't want to try either. he settles for comforting them the best he can-but what can anyone do to help, really?
at the very least, trusting someone enough to talk about it is a huge weight off twitch's shoulders. grace can help them try to figure out what's going on with their memories, it makes them better at talking to each other. it's not easy, but it helps twitch to move forward-slowly, but surely
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momowritings · 2 days
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Love Bites pt. 2
When two worlds collide…
Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro
word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters
Preview: “I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”
“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“
“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Two: Chimayo Chai
Much to your dismay Toji visited the shop at least once a week with the same order. He always wanted to eat two of everything and a new drink to try, a drink that you had to choose for him. Your routine was set to where you had his boxes already waiting for him by the time he came in. 
“Can I ask you a question?” Toji stops and stares down at you. You roll the ties of your apron around your fingers to try to calm yourself. 
“Why do you order so much? I mean, you come in every week, but you don’t strike me as someone who has a sweet tooth.”
Once again Toji didn’t respond right away but you were used to it by now. Toji seemed to talk more when he was annoyed, so him being quiet was actually a good sign. 
“I give them to my son and… coworkers.”
“You have a son?” you perk up. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“I’m not.”
You cringe at his response. You didn’t mean to bring up an unpleasant memory for him but you could never seem to talk to him normally. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I- Here’s your drink,” you sigh and hand him the latest fall drink on their menu, which is a Chimayo Chai. You hold the drink out and he takes it, lingering for a moment before speaking again. “He doesn’t like sweets either. My son.”
Your eyebrows knit together at his confession. “So it’s mainly just your coworkers who like sweets?”
Toji nods and finally takes the tea from over the counter. “They won’t shut up about them.”
“I love to hear that. I’ve been meaning to try more sugar and gluten free recipes. Maybe then you can enjoy them too.” You gave him a soft smile and the word “cute” flashed in Toji’s mind. He couldn’t even remember the last time he used that word willingly. “Oh, one more thing,” you say. “Next week on this day I won’t be here. The shop will be closed actually,” you mutter quietly. The words make Toji’s grip tighten around his cup and he waits for her to continue.
“It’s just for one day! I’m telling you because you always come in on Thursdays so I wanted to give you a heads up. I’ll close earlier on Wednesday but Friday will be open during normal store hours,” you smile and push your glasses up. 
“Why?”
You were hoping he wouldn’t ask that question. You really didn’t want to lie to him, but at the same time you didn’t have any idea who this man was, even if your interest in him piqued every time he walked in with his tieless suit and emotionless face. 
“I’m… visiting family,” you acquiesce. 
“For only a day?”
“Yes, that’s all I need.” 
Thankfully another customer broke their conversation with an announcement of their own. “Hey you, feeling old yet?” You smile at your tall friend who reaches over the counter to give you a tight hug. 
“My birthday’s next week, jackass. How have you been, Rina?” 
“Now I have to be more creative with my learning plans to keep the kids focused on their school work,” Rina dramatically sighs and her eyes trails over to the man she brushed past to say hello to you and her eyes widens.
“Oh Mr. Fushiguro! Funny seeing you here!”
“You know him, Rina?” This was getting ridiculous. How could an elementary teacher know a man like Toji?
“I teach his son, Megumi. He’s an absolute sweetheart. Quiet, but smart. He also loves all things related to frogs. Did I interrupt your conversation?”
“No, not at all. I’m sure Mr. Toji has other things to attend to. I’ll see you next week? Or maybe not, but soon?” 
“What drink is this again?” Toji looks down into the cup. 
“Chimayo Chai. You’re the first person I’ve made it for so far since it’s new on the menu,” you beam. “Let me know what you think when I see you again, okay?”
Toji nods and leaves without another word and Rina slowly turns to you with a smile pulling at her lips. 
“He’s single you know.”
“Rina.”
“And quite a catch. He shows up to all of Megumi’s events and the other PTA moms drool over him from a distance.” 
“Rina…”
“I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”
“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“
“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal,” Rina smirks and pops a piece of a muffin that she grabbed off of a rack into her mouth.
“Shut up. And I'm charging you for that.”
“Yeah yeah. Anyway, be sure to get ready for the school’s fall festival. Who knows, maybe Mr. Fushiguro will be there too.”
<<<Chapter One
Chapter Three>>>
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missatan · 2 days
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Who's your biggest inspiration/s on Simblr? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!
oh god, i have so many and i know i am missing some! i sat on this for a min so i could remember!
@gleamer: Their renders are fucking gorgeous, but I also LOVE how their sims interact with each other! I love how much depth and emotion they put into their faces! They have inspired me to do that for my sims just to show who they are as people. Also, their sims are so beautiful!!
@crsentfairy: INDIE!! Gods, where do I start? Her sim style is beautiful and instantly recognizable. I don't need to see Indie's username up above to know that she made them! I love her way of storytelling instantly grabs you at the heart and I love how in depth each oc is! I LOVE how she writes dialogue. Each character SOUNDS like their character if you get what I mean.
@diactrl: MY WIFE!!!! ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS!! MY POOKIE!!! <3333 Dia is ridiculously talented with how she creates renders and sims. The way she styles her sims and it adds so much personality to them too!! Not only does she make the hot ass sims, but just her presence forces me to finish my own shit!
@rosymiel: JESUS CHRIST THEY ARE SO GOOD AT EDITING!!! I remember years ago when I first followed how much I was in awe with how they render then paint over it. Their edits are pure art and so beautiful!! I have always wanted to get to that level!!!
@yngblkarawak: THEY ARE SO MUCH TO SAY!!!! THE WAY THEY STYLE SIMS! THE WAY THEY MAKE SIMS! THE WAY THEY RENDER! THE WAY THEY PUT TOGETHER IDEAS I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO CAPTURE! THE WAY THEY CAN MAKE A SIM LOOK EXACTLY LIKE A PERSON! THE WAY THEY PUT 2+ HAIRS TOGETHER! JUST EVERYTHING!!!! ABSOLUTELY STUNNING ALWAYS!
@vampiremilfs: Nez was one of the first people I came across on tumblr that made me want to get into renders and editing! Their renders feel as if they're from a movie or a video game! I am ALWAYS in awe when they post a render of their sims. they're also so fucking hot and get me foaming at the mouth!!!
@blackskorpi0n: JAKLFJFSKJ STORM!!! They are my blender queen!!! I am always in awe when they create a render and how they put together ideas. I truly feel as if I'm part of their sim's words. The way they do textures, their editing skills, how they move hair perfectly to go with the motion (does that sentence even make sense?? idEK!)
there is so much more and i know I'm blanking. But so many people on this app inspire me SO much!!!! it's a lil art gallery here
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vodika-vibes · 3 days
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May I, please and thank you, ask ruby in autumn at dusk with Tech and Crosshair and a female jedi? (Maybe in the clone wars or an au where Cross came back in Kamino and we are blatanty ignoring end s2-s3)
Beloved
Summary: For all that your former Master used to claim that relationships were hard, you can’t help but think that it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done in your life.
Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Jedi F!Reader x TBB Tech
Word Count: 976
Prompt: Ruby - Passionate Love
Warnings: Order 66 happens at the very end, but reader survives
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: I need you to understand I could have written 5k words of this. Involving smut and a proper plot. I barely, just barely, managed to keep this under my self imposed word limit. Anyway! I hope you like it!
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Autumn on Kamino is just like every other season, wet. Although, you think it’s a little more wet than other seasons. Not that you mind, you get to hear the sound of the rain pounding against the window as the sun sets.
“I have to go back to Coruscant,” You announce into the quiet of the room that you share with Crosshair and Tech. Both men, absorbed in their own work, jolt up. Identical eyes snapping to your face.
“What?” Crosshair demands, his brow furrowing.
“Why do you need to return to Coruscant? You are the Jedi General of Clone Force 99. And we are not going to Coruscant.” Tech points out, his brow furrowed as well.
Crosshair, you know, is scowling because he doesn’t like it when you’re away from him. Tech, however, is puzzled because he can’t figure out why you would need to go to Coruscant when your Squad isn’t going to Coruscant.
They really are so cute.
You feel your heart swell with affection. 
You sit up from where you’re lounging in the bed, stretching your arms over your head with a groan, “Well, you’re both aware that I’m a very young Jedi General, right?”
Crosshair’s gaze, which had fallen to your stomach when your tank top rose as you stretched, snaps back to your face, “You were Knighted.”
“I was! At 18, when the war began.” You smile at him knowingly, “And, because of said war, I never finished my education. Which, apparently, is a problem.” Tech releases a choking noise, and you turn your patient smile onto the other man.
“You never finished your education?!”
He would be offended by that, wouldn’t he?
“I finished the important ones. First aid, diplomacy, bladework, investigations. I just never finished my astronav class.” You shrug, “So, I have to go back to Coruscant and sit the exam for that.”
A squeak falls from your lips as Crosshair moves and coils himself around you, “Absolutely not.”
You giggle as his lips find your pulse point, and your giggle morphs into a startled gasp as he bites down and leaves a dark mark blooming on your skin. “That wasn’t me asking, Cross.”
Another squeak falls from your lips as Tech wraps his fingers around one of your ankles, and he presses a lazy, lingering kiss against your calf, “And what are we meant to do while you are gone?” He asks, his lips still pressed against your calf.
“I’m sure they’ll find something for you all to do-” A yelp falls from your lips this time as Crosshair’s lips move to your shoulder, and he bites down, “Are you trying to stake your claim, Cross?” You ask with an amused smile.
“Too many Regs on Coruscant.” He grumbles, “They might try something.”
You roll your eyes, “It’s not like I’m going clubbing, Cross. I’m going to the temple.” You shift and squirm slightly so you’re able to reach up and comb your fingers through his short hair, “Besides, it’s not like I’m pretty enough to snag anyone’s attention-”
Tech, who has shifted so that his lips are hovering just over your lower thigh, releases an explosive sigh and bites a mark into your thigh, “Ridiculous. You are ridiculous.”
“Rude.”
“How do you think you managed to catch us, kitten?” Crosshair points out as he shifts so he’s able to look in your eyes.
“Kinda just assumed that you both shared incredibly poor taste-” You squeak when both Tech and Crosshair bite down at the same time, leaving nearly identical marks on your skin. 
“Try again.” Crosshair growls against your throat.
You pout at him, though even if he could see it, he’d ignore it, “Fine. Because, for some reason, you both love me.”
“Better.” Tech murmurs from somewhere around your thigh, and you shiver at the feel of his warm breath against your sensitive skin.
You swallow hard, and steel your will, “I still have to go to Coruscant.”
There’s silence for a moment, and then Crosshair curses and drops his forehead to your chest, while Tech just releases a sigh and lays his cheek against your thigh.
“I am sorry.” You murmur, “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to.”
“When do you have to leave?” Tech asks.
“Day after tomorrow.” You reply, lifting your head to look at him.
“That’s plenty of time, I suppose.” Crosshair murmurs.
“For what?” You ask, dropping your head back to the pillow to stare at him, bewildered.
Crosshair just smirks at you and lazily drags the strap of your tank top down your shoulder, “Take a wild guess, kitten.”
And your face burns with slightly flustered embarrassment, pulling laughter from both men. 
“Do not worry, cyare.” Tech murmurs as his fingers glide up your outer thighs to hook around the waist of your shorts, “We will take good care of you.” He adds as his gaze locks with yours.
And, in spite of your burning face, you smile, “I’m not worried. You always do.”
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One week later, four days after you leave Kamino and a day before you land on Coruscant, your boys are ordered to help Jedi Master Depa Billaba and her Battalion with their mission on Kaller.
10 days after you left Kamino, the Batch arrives on Kaller to help Master Billaba.
10 days and 2 hours after you left Kamino, the 501 marches on the Jedi temple, while you’re in the middle of your AstroNav exam.
10 days and 5 hours after you left Kamino, you’ve taken shelter with Senator Riyo Chuchi, and you’re missing an arm and an eye. 
But you’re alive, which is more than can be said for the majority of your brethren.
And all you can do is hope that Crosshair and Tech are okay, and hope that they wouldn’t turn on you if, and when, you see them again.
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silly-little-gooses · 8 hours
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your hc for jameson as a girls dad are so cute 😭💗💗 could you pls make hc about averyjameson as parents together? have the nicest day!!!
ofc I’d love to you’re so sweet! <3
avery and jameson have three kids - two daughters and one son.
jameson claims he can understand the language of baby talk. strangely enough, whenever his toddlers babble about something, he can always get it right what they need.
jameson cried harder then avery when he found out she was pregnant. same thing with their births.
jameson and avery got to every single one of their kids sports games and scream their head offs supporting them.
nash, xander, and grayson are the best uncles ever and are always trying to spend time with their nieces and nephews and help whenever they can.
avery can make her babies laugh with just about anything. she could make silly faces, talk to them, drop a pan on the floor, and the little kids would burst out laughing and find everything amusing.
avery and jameson hire a very large security team for their kids, like ten to twenty people. they’ve experienced first hand the affects of paparazzi and social media and they really want to keep their kids safe from that.
avery absolutely adores dressing up their toddlers in the cutest little outfits ever. boy, girl, doesn’t matter, she will find the most adorable clothing and accessories.
jameson loves to embarrass his kids in front of their friends/crushes. he never goes too far but he always likes to add in a teasing comment or dad joke or riddle.
their son looks just like jameson, the resemblance is a bit frightening. the same green eyes, sarcastic smirk, fluffy brown hair, etc.
this one is obvious but avery and jameson’s child is the most beautiful, gorgeous, majestic, ethereal being in the history of man. two gorgeous parents, how could you not?
avery and jameson have witnessed how pressuring and stressful it can be to be a hawthorne and live up to all those expectations. so, they don’t force their kids to win world records or start their own business or anything like that. they let them be kids.
I mentioned this before but jameson is not allowed to help name children. he would pick the most unserious, ridiculous names ever. fortunately, avery picks the prettiest names for their kids, with the help of max and libby ofc.
avery and jameson want their kids to feel like normal kids. they read a picture book before bed, treat their kids to ice cream, talk to their teddy bears, etc. anything to make their kids feel happy.
road trips with the hawthorne-grambs family is always absolutely crazy. there’s music blasting, snacks being eaten, sing-alongs, a bit of arguing, all the fun of road trips.
also here’s a bit of an update! six of crows content won my poll by a landslide so, please please please send in any requests you have for both the inheritance games content or six of crows content bc I do all of this for you lovely people! byeee! <3
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cooliogirl101 · 9 hours
Text
WTL Deleted Scene
The bar had been closed for an hour and Mitsuo was in the process of cleaning up when he noticed the woman standing by the door. It was raining hard outside but she didn’t seem to notice or care, looking completely lost in thought.
Mitsuo hesitated for a moment before making his way towards the front.
“Can I help you?” He asked politely. The woman jolted slightly, before staring up at him with wide, startled eyes.
“No,” she said after a brief pause. “No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have come. Sorry for disturbing you.”
She turned to walk away and before he could think better of it, Mitsuo reached out one hand to grab her shoulder. She went alarmingly stiff under his touch and he hastily let her go.
“I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that, well.” He took in her drenched clothes, the lack of umbrella, the water droplets running down her face. “You look like you could use a place to warm up.”
She glanced at the very blatant ‘Closed’ sign on the door before looking back at him.
“I think we have time for one more customer,” he said, answering her unspoken question, and stepped aside to allow her in.
~~
“So that bad, huh?” The woman, who had introduced herself as ‘Hana,’ asked casually. Mitsuo raised an eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean?” He asked, sliding a cup of tea over to her.
“The way I look.” Her lips quirked up slightly, a touch of humor entering her eyes. “I figure it has to be bad if strangers are taking pity on me and allowing me to take shelter for free after hours. Be honest, on a scale of drowned rat to drenched owl, how bad are we talking?”
He took in her shoulder length sopping-wet brown hair, brown eyes, brown coat. She did look a bit like a bedraggled animal, actually.
“Hmm, more along the lines of wet cat, to be frank,” Mitsuo said, smiling. “How’s the tea?”
She took a sip, then drew back, surprised. “This-- ”
“Not bad, right?” Mitsuo chuckled.
“Well. The standards of tea have certainly improved since the last time I’ve been in Inuzuri,” Hana remarked. “Must mean this place is doing pretty well, right?”
“You could say that.” They certainly weren’t lacking money anyway. “I think we have some food leftover in the back. Let me see if I can scrounge up something.”
“You don’t have to,” Hana protested. “Seriously, you’ve done more than enough.”
“It’s no trouble.” Mitsuo smiled briefly. “Besides, it’d hardly be polite to let a lady go hungry. Why don’t you take a look at a menu and see if anything catches your eye?”
“Absolutely not, I’m not going to—wait, who came up with the names of these drinks?” She asked incredulously.
“Ah yes, I’m afraid my brother had quite a bit of fun coming up with them.” Mitsuo grinned, suppressing a chuckle. “My sister, she was of the belief that we should be trying to attract a more diverse clientele and suggested that creating cocktails designed to cater to both men and women might be a good idea. Kazuki—my brother—thought it was ridiculous and was deeply upset at the idea of serving ‘girly’ drinks in his bar. Unfortunately for him, he was unanimously outvoted. The compromise was that he would be allowed to name the drinks.”
“And K—and they approved these?” Hana’s lips twitched as she scanned the list. “The Red-Hot Pineapple Monkey? Oh dear, the person who inspired that one must be a…character.”
Mitsuo hummed his agreement, hiding his surprise. It wasn’t often that newcomers guessed the cocktail names were inspired by actual people, and that one was a comparatively less obvious one.
“Maybe I’ll try something after all. This one sounds promising—the Flower Power Glower.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that one…I mean, I would have loved to—” Her voice trailed off, shoulders slumping slightly. “But I guess that’s not possible anymore.”
Hana glanced up at Mitsuo, a wry twist to her mouth.
“Maybe alcohol isn’t such a good idea tonight.”
“Maybe not,” Mitsuo agreed gently. “And for what it’s worth, I understand. I’ve lost people too. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d be glad to give it a try.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” She hesitated. “There is one thing. I just—your family.” Hana looked down at her hands, fiddling with her mug. “They sound like…like an amazing group of people. Would you tell me about them?” There was an odd urgency to her voice now, words coming out just a touch too fast. “Please?”
Mitsuo paused. By all means, he should decline her request. It wasn’t exactly a secret that two highly-ranked Shinigami came from their household and although neither Rukia nor Renji visited frequently these days, it wasn’t unfeasible that someone could come seeking information to use against them. And yet, he couldn’t help but instinctively trust that this woman meant him and his family no harm.
He hadn’t lived this long by ignoring his instincts.
“What do you want to know?” He asked.
~~
They ended up talking for hours. Honestly, they probably could have ended up talking for longer had Kazuki not stormed in, shaking droplets of rain out of his hair.
“There you are! The bar closed hours ago, where the hell have you—who the hell is she?” Kazuki drew up short at the sight of Hana and Mitsuo sitting across from each other at the bar, halfway through their second pot of tea. Hana looked at him with the same wide-eyed look she’d greeted Mitsuo with.
“Manners, Kazuki,” Mitsuo said dryly.
“Shut up, this ain’t the goddamned Seireitei,” Kazuki retorted without taking his eyes off Hana. “So who is she?”
“She is able to hear you,” Hana said, a touch sardonically. “You can call me Hana.”
“Just Hana, huh? No last name?” Kazuki asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
“You’re hardly one to talk, given that you haven’t provided either of yours,” she retorted without missing a beat. He blinked, then grinned.
“Fair enough. You can call me Kazuki then.” His eyes fell onto the mostly-empty plate of gyoza on the table. “Aw man, I was hoping to eat those later.”
“Don’t worry, we saved the smallest one for you,” she replied, tongue-in-cheek. Mitsuo blinked. That had almost sounded like—
“I mean, thank you for the drinks and the food,” Hana said hastily, interrupting his thoughts. “How much do I owe you? And don’t tell me it’s on the house again, I mean the real cost.”
“How much do you want to pay?” At her uncomprehending look, Kazuki smirked. “We operate on a donation-only system here. You pay what you want, and if you don’t want to pay anything, that’s perfectly fine too.” He looked her over. “Actually on second thought, I second what Mitsuo said. It’s on the house—please use any money you have to buy an umbrella.”
“That doesn’t seem like a viable way to run a business,” Hana pointed out.
“Don’t worry about that. Anything that isn’t covered by donations just gets added to Hisana’s tab,” Kazuki shrugged.
There was a pause.
“Hisana’s tab?” Hana questioned. Her voice was very small.
“It’s a system we set up in honor of our late sister,” Mitsuo explained quietly. “Well, us and her fiancé at the time. Anyone who comes to this bar only needs to ask in order to be fed.”
It had been Kuchiki Byakuya’s idea. The amount of money he donated on a yearly basis could feed more hungry orphans than existed in all of Inuzuri.
“Oh.” Hana swallowed. “That’s—that’s a really nice thing to do. I’m sure your sister would have loved that.” She stood up and bowed. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for your kindness—I can’t tell you how much it means to me.” 
“You have a place to stay?” Mitsuo asked, concerned.
“Of course. You don’t have to worry about me,” she smiled. “I’ll be fine.”
Mitsuo pursed his lips, studying her closely. There was something oddly familiar about her, something that had been bothering him all evening. Not her features—no, Mitsuo was quite certain he’d never seen this woman before in his life—but in her tone of voice, the way she tilted her chin up—
He shook off the sense of déjà vu and smiled at her.
“In that case, please feel free to come back at any time. You’re always welcome,” he said sincerely. “I hope to see you again.” 
Her smile softened into something a little more genuine.
“As do I,” she murmured. “Take care, Mitsuo, Kazuki.”
“So. Hana, huh?” Kazuki commented as soon as the door shut behind her. “Someone you know?”
“Not at all. I’ve never seen her before tonight,” Mitsuo replied honestly. “Why?”
He shrugged, staring off into the same direction Hana had left.
“Nothing. Just feel like I’ve met her before.”
~~
Hisana: “You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine” while very much the opposite of fine
Mitsuo and Kazuki, immediately: wait why does this girl seem so familiar
Deleted this scene because I decided Hisana wouldn't risk going back to her family until Aizen was no longer a threat, no matter how much she missed them. But I figured I'd share this snippet anyway, hope you guys enjoy!
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rottenbrainstuff · 22 hours
Text
BG3 playthrough - House of Hope
Man I’m getting legit sad I’m getting so close to being done.
Unpopular (?) opinion - I have read people explaining up and down and back and forth about how pressed they are that Haarlep says Raphael is bad in bed, how Haarlep is unreliable because he hates Raphael, how he’s an incubus so his standards must be very high, how Raphael is probably purposefully doing this or that because Haarlep is a spy keeping an eye on him for daddy so of course he’s not going to appear vulnerable in any way, even how sad and conflicted Raphael must be, being a cambian…
Honestly - I have zero trouble taking Haarlep at his literal word. 100%. Raphael’s house is literally full of paintings and statues of himself. He wrote an entire book that’s nothing but descriptions of different scenarios of him being crowned with the crown of Karsus. His diary entries are absolutely insufferable. He is the textbook definition of hubris and vanity. I have zero problem believing Haarlep literally. And I say all this affectionately, by the way: Raphael is one of my favourite characters in the entire game. But it’s kind of like how everyone wants to soften out all the rough edges on Astarion - I like him like this. I think it’s hilarious that he’s so vain. His hubris is so funny. His opinion of himself is so high and his confidence in his victory is so complete, but his personal incubus is sitting here lounging in his bed absolutely roasting his ass to complete strangers with very little prompting. I think he’s a great devil character and I don’t want to make up excuses for his behaviour in order to humanize him. I definitely do love complicated antagonists who have more to them than it first appears, but honestly I just do not get that vibe from him. And I love him for it.
Haarlep was so funny btw. I just love it when actors are having fun. That must have been so funny to come in and voice the character, like, ok so for today, you’re doing the same voice as before, except make it slutty and bitchy this time. It makes sense I guess that Haarlep can change into a female form if you want, of course he can, and I think it’s funny that even when Raphael wants to shake things up a bit, it’s still with a version of himself, but myeh, that whole thing felt to me like a “hey don’t worry if you’re icked out, we have a girl option too that we can totally switch to if you want.” Maybe I’ve just read too many forum arguments about how there’s too many gay people in this game and people are crying to have a toggle to turn it off, and it makes me hostile to anything that smacks of trying to soothe people’s hurt heterosexuality. (because like, theoretically there could be lesbians who object to the scene as well?) Oh well. Still funny in the end. I was going to go through with just sleeping with Haarlep to avoid a fight, because that’s the direction my tav generally likes to go, but then Astarion got very concerned and made me feel bad, so I changed my mind.
Well this whole area was fun. I loved Raphael’s house. I loved all the details. I loved the debtors, the tacky ostentatious bullshit in every corner, I loved the rotten banquet. Is that its natural state and he charmed it to look fresh when I arrived? (disgusting, I love it) Or has he just been so pissy about whatever went wrong with the skeleton folks at the table that he’s never bothered to have it cleared and has left it there in a temper tantrum as a lesson? (ridiculous, I also love it) I love how absolutely, singularly obsessed Raphael is with my party. I know it’s because we are the means by which he thinks he is going to get that crown, but it also feels personal and weird and uncomfortable. I love that my contract has this place of honour in his archive. It’s almost touching, if it wasn’t my fucking soul. I love how absolutely self-assured Raphael is, how confident he is that his plan is going to work, how the possibility of a failure or a trick, like, he doesn’t even have the capacity to consider that a possibility. It SO GODAMNED FUNNY to kick his ego-inflated ass when he was SO FUCKING SURE that he would win. Raphael you are such an insufferable idiot. I love him. I’m so glad the VA won a Bafta.
The Raphael fight is tricky, but honestly, half of the trick is that before you even get there, you have to fight your way to the foyer past the most annoying enemies. I guess Hope’s divine intervention which can restore your spells and HP helps to balance that out though.
It was surprising to see I was able to get Yurgir to side with me in the fight - I had assumed he’d be SO fucking pissed after I tricked him in the Shar gauntlet. Now I have an additional ally in the big brain fight! …except he really wasn’t all that helpful in the Raphael fight, not at all. He’d go invisible, pop out of invisibility, knife someone for maybe 7 HP, then pop invisible again. I guess every little bit helps but…? Come on dude. At least stay visible so you can soak some hits.
Apparently it’s possible to make Korilla survive the fight? I was… NOT able to do that. You get some extra dialogue if you do, but the fight is hard enough to win even without trying to manage a hostile NPC who is usually the first one Yurgir targets. Sorry Hope, sorry Korilla. How come you can cast Otto’s Irresistible Dance on Raphael, and it will incapacitate him, but it won’t make him actually boogie? I was so excited to see him dance, and then he didn’t, he just stands there.
It doesn’t even need to be said - Raphael’s fight song is of course amazing, chef’s kiss, perfection.
Anyway, bard vs bard fight, very fun, when you kill him Raphael crumples dramatically to the ground, I love the big boss fights in this game.
Coming back, I got a stupid lecture from the Emperor about how naughty naughty I was being. Sure asshole, lecture me about trust, that’s really rich coming from the guy who didn’t trust ME with anything, and I had to pry the truth out, unwillingly, in stages. I can’t fucking wait to doublecross that guy.
If you attack Helsik, Raphael’s boss song also plays? That was… a little bit strange! I wanted to see what was in her basement, but the fight with all the gilded imps and Minotaurs and whatnot was such a pain I didn’t bother. Apparently you can access the basement through Dammon’s basement anyways, if you really want to see it, so. I DID make sure to pickpocket those gauntlets back off her cause I want them.
Mannnn. I’m almost done the game. WTF. All I have left to do is go give Mol her contract, talk to Voss in the undercity and piss off the Emperor, get my poop in a group and… that’s it. I’m off to fight the brain. I’ve been playing this playthrough for six months, and I’m almost done.
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kaladinkholins · 4 months
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mizutaigen is literally like. the first "toxic" m/f ship i've ever cared for. cuz like usually my taste in m/f ships is basically "unhinged baddie" x "badass wifeguy" *
* (see:yen/geralt. trevor/sypha. adolin/shallan. kataang but katara is sane and they're literally so wholesome like theyre traumatised kids in love who are each other's emblem of hope in a war-torn world! so basically they don't count. anyway. i'm rambling.)
and to that end my friend called mizutaigen yaoi-adjacent and im like. yeah you're right actually cuz like hell yeah non-binary mizu and bisexual taigen rights and all the gender fuckery in the show in general
but also like.
theres just SOMETHING else about mizutaigen that just GETS me. like there's a special secret sauce like the pheromones in that one sephora lotion attracting spiders and i am the silly spider!!! there's just something about it!!! it's not even the enemies to lovers trope cuz i personally am not even usually into that (obv it's fine if you are. but yk.)
so as i keep rotating these thoughts around i thiiink it's the fact that, yknow, theyre so similar. like i honestly truly think they could be besties in another universe: a kinder universe where taigen was not taught to hate. a universe where mizu was not born a girl in a deeply misogynistic society or half-white in a xenophobic homogeneous society.
yeah now that i think about it that really just might be THE secret sauce!!! like the fact that they COULD be perfect and happy together, if only things were different, if only they werent themselves.
smth v bittersweet about that's just driving me insane and makes me want to root for them to overcome all those obstacles, to say "fuck all that" (re:the world and all its fucked up shit) and find each other in the end. to eventually become each other's fav person and confidant. who obv still bicker and tease and insult each other all the time but they dont really mean any of it and over time it just becomes a running gag between them and no one else has to get it because it's just between the two of them.
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alinelie · 10 months
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just him
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