#I did this instead of learning French

[ihateswansmorethananything]

Wild horses from The Rolling Stones blasting on full volume in the distance ‼️💥

A cowboy jack drawing for the soul

[linnea-ancalime]

D.Nd: Poisoned text walkthroughs

hello meronia community. if any of you would like text walkthroughs for all endings in D.Nd: Poisoned (the MelloNear visual novel by Akane), you can find them here :3 (with tickable checkboxes for each step! and an ugly but serviceable PDF you can easily print if so inclined)

[svtskneecaps]

today may be a weird day for this bc i'm HOPING there won't be much of a trash fire in the tag, comparatively, but if discourse, neg, or server happenings get you stressed, pro tip!! THAT MEANS IT'S DUOLINGO TIME!!!!! channel your gamer rage and viewer stress into SICK NASTY LANGUAGE LEARNING

[allthepandasintheworld]

I just realized I can’t say Rene and Alois live in my head rent free. Like, they do pay rent.

The rent is emotional support

[giantkillerjack]

Latin: THE CARRIAGE IS STUCK IN A DITCH (raeda in fossum est)

i’m obsessed with these…

(From DepthOfWikipedia on Instagram)

[serenhob]

[ID: Woman standing with her back to us in front of a window. Her hair is visible to us, long and brown, half tied in a rose shaped bun. She wears a puffy cobalt blue gown, pushing back curtains of a similar colour END ID]

Art I made for a thing I wrote. Shes kinda funky looking but I like it better than first attempt (rip my confidence in drawing faces)

[booasaur]

Something really amazing happened in France, and I think it'd help us in the US to learn about it. Forgive the long read, but I think this is genuinely great both because of what happened and how.

So as some of you might have seen, in a decision historians will debate for years (mostly to figure out just WTF he was thinking, even though he is alive right now and can be asked), the French president, Emmanuel Macron, currently in power and THREE YEARS before the scheduled election, seeing the far right rise in popularity decided to dissolve the assembly and hold snap elections.

577 seats were up for grabs. Remember that number. Since half of that is 288.5, 289 seats are needed for a majority.

The first round happened last week and boy, was it bad. The far right made HUGE gains. It won or was in first place in so many races. And Macron's party ended up third!

Overall, this is how things ended up after the first round:

Far right bloc: 33%

Left bloc: 28%

Macron's centrist party: 20%

Conservatives: 7%

The way the French system works is that if a candidate gets over 50% of the vote, they win outright, and some of the far right did manage that. But, many races went to a runoff.

Immediate projections after were that the far right bloc might win anywhere from 240 to 310 seats, a catastrophe.

A shameful swing to the far right leading to the first time they'll be in power since the 1940s? Yes, but maybe not??

This is where things get interesting.

Unusually, a lot of these runoffs are 3-way, instead of a simpler 2-way choice. And in pretty much every case, that helps the far right.

So on June 30th, the night of the first round, this is how things went down:

Immediately, the left parties put out the call: anywhere they were third, they withdrew and their voters would go over to whoever was running against the far right candidate. Their goal: form a "republican front" to block the far right. The far right cannot get 289 seats.

Macron's bloc was not so...motivated. Different people put out different instructions: in some places, if they were third, they should drop out, but only to help the center left, not far left, in other places, see how far you are, only then drop out, that kind of thing.

The conservative party simply said they won't drop out and won't give their voters instruction either way in races they're not involved in.

Late night developments:

More people in Macron's party are now beginning to realize the situation and starting to coalesce around whichever candidate can beat the far right one. Prime Minister Gabriel Attal, from Macron's party, says clearly the priority is to block the far right. BUT, some Macron spokespeople on TV say they'll form a coalition only with the center left and conservatives, splitting the left bloc if needed. Some individual Macronists still saying they won't drop out, even if there's no hope of winning.

Lol.

So, now July 1st:

Only half so far. In one race, where the sister of Marine Le Pen (the far right leader and the face of their movement) was leading, the third place Macronist refused to bow out.

Excellent quote from another Macronist:

Perhaps realizing the same thing, that Macronist in the race against the Le Pen sister now drops out.

In some places, third place Macronists are dropping out DESPITE Macron bewilderingly telling them NOT to?

Halfway through the day:

Of the 311 3-way or 4-way runoffs, the number is down to 135 because of these candidates dropping out: 121 Left, 56 Macronists, 1 conservative.

Oh, there was this, in case people had any doubts about how terrible the far right are:

And to show the selflessness of the left:

July 2:

The deadline to decide if they want to stay in a runoff is today.

A dozen new third place Macronists who said they'd stay in have now dropped out. One got a call from both the PM Attal AND Macron to drop out, signalling the dawning understanding of the importance of this moment.

Even some conservative party members are now backing the left candidate who faces the far right.

A Macronist who had 30.55% of the vote in the first round and came in third to the far right's 33.11% and left's 32.73% and who would have been tempted to stay has dropped out.

The deadline to stay in or not has now passed.

Look at these far right shenanigans!

Macron still being a freaking loser:

July 3rd:

In the end, of the 311 3- or 4-way run offs, only 91 left. Some polls come out that have the far right getting between 190 to 220 seats.

July 4th:

New polls say the balance of the voting itself isn't transferring between the left and center and predictions have risen for the far right, now predicted to get between 210 and 250 seats.

July 5th:

New polls again, left voters now predicted to do better transferring vote to the centrists, decreasing the far right projections again.

However, scandalous reporting emerges: while Attal was trying to fend off the far right, Macron was not only NOT taking the far right seriously, he was undermining efforts to defeat them. His team shrugged off the first round results and celebrated a BIRTHDAY as the results were still coming in?

July 6th:

A few runoffs happened yesterday, nothing much unexpected, some left and center wins.

July 7th:

The day of reckoning. At this point, the expectations are that the far right won't come close to that 289 number but could still easily have the most seats.

GUYS.

It's over and the left are in the lead!

A LOT of cases where a leftist or centrist was 2nd in the first round and now won.

Amazing:

SO many lessons to take from this.

First, you have to vote! You have to. You can't do anything without voting. The freaking French, who'll protest for anything, are showing up to vote. If you're trying to achieve any kind of result and it's not going to happen by January 2025, you have to vote now.

But just as importantly, the left and center (and even conservative) parties made very key decisions. They were all lucky that Attal, who Macron chose, saw the big picture, bigger than indeed Macron could. A stupid selfish centrist leader could have still ruined everything if it were up to him.

TL;DR: After a disastrous first round in the national French elections where the far right was on the cusp of taking power, the left and center formed a strong coalition and through the power of voting and unity, overcame the far right AND their selfish centrist president to win.

[bi-writes]

ok reverse the TROPE !!!!!! sugar-mommy!f!reader x retired!simon <333 (18+)

he got discharged on a medical injury. his knee flares up now, phantom pains that shoot up his leg and pinch his spine. he feels like a failure--a lieutenant in his prime, and now he has to acclimate to civilian life and grit his teeth instead of drown the voices in his head out with gunfire.

he's been deployed as much as he could be just to stay away from this kind of place. so he didn't have to get on a train, or take the tube. so he didn't have to think about looking over his shoulder in the shops or learn how to pay a wifi bill. he hates going to the doctor's office, and he hates learning how to properly open his bank account, just to learn that there's nearly nothing in it.

the numbers just dwindle before his very eyes. the rent is too high, even in his shitty studio. when did cable cost that much? why can't he go to the pub for just a few pounds anymore? where is the compensation for giving more than a decade of his life in service of his country just to have to wait in fucking lines to get his medication and argue over the phone about where all his fucking money went.

maybe he never had any. maybe it's all lost somewhere. he'd ask his former captain, but he's halfway across the world, and over his dead body would he hold a hand out and ask for charity when he's 36 years old.

"don't get that one."

simon turns his head, a snarl caught in his throat. there's a pretty thing standing beside him, also staring at the array of ramen packages in focus. you take the orange package out of his hand and put it back on the shelf before reaching for a different package. it's got japanese characters on it, so he can't read the label, but you smile up at him.

"this one is way better. good price for it, too."

"'s more expensive."

"yeah, but you get eight packets in this one. that one only gives you five."

at the till, you notice him subtly counting the notes in his wallet. you pretend not to notice, rocking back and forth on your heels, but just as he picks up his bag to leave, you speak up.

"you wanna get a drink? on me."

and fuck, he could use a bourbon. on the first one, he thought your presence was pleasantly tolerable. by the fourth, he's staring down your shirt, dark eyes mapping out what the curves of your breasts might look like in the palm of his big hand. by the sixth, you're pressed up against a sticky bathroom wall and holding on for dear life as he pounds into you from behind, knickers in his back pocket, manicured nails digging slits into his tattooed forearm.

you sink those claws in that night; and you do not let go.

the third night you ask him out, he sees your flat for the first time. in a nice building downtown, doorman holding the door open for you. the elevator ride is long enough for him to see the tops of buildings, and when you step inside your flat, he swallows hard when he realizes you are way out of his league.

gorgeous leather seats and couch. large tv with surround sound. a french kitchen with a gas stove. your flat is filled with knickknacks and candles, low yellow lights and wonderful collections of art and little glass vases and sculptures. your home is filled with warmth, and you don't belong with him.

just as he thinks about backing out of the place, you turn and grip the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. you touch your nose to his over his mask, smiling, and you push the door closed behind him and press him up against it.

"so, which room do you wanna christen first? i thought we could start in the kitchen."

you're a woman that knows what she wants, he'll give you that; and he doesn't have it in him to say no.

the sun wakes him up in the morning. he doesn't remember falling asleep--he doesn't like to make staying over a habit. when he sits up on his elbows, he takes a deep breath, realizing his back hurts a lot less. the mattress of your bed is wonderful, much more supportive than the flat mess he has on the floor in his own place, and he blinks himself awake when you come out of the bathroom.

you're freshly dressed, makeup on, and you're putting on your jewelry when you see him. you smile at him, coming towards the bed, and you bend down to kiss where his mouth would be under the mask.

"good morning, simon. sleep well?"

"mmm..."

you take that as a yes, cupping his jaw, and you kiss him over his mask again before going to get some shoes from your closet. he doesn't comment on the fact that when you open it, he realizes the closet there is only for shoes...

"you hungry, baby? want some breakfast?"

"i--oh..." simon lays back down when his back tweaks, and you reach for him when you see him fall back in the mirror. you smooth a hand down the side of his body, frowning.

"why don't you stay in bed? i'll have my assistant bring you something."

"no, tha's--"

"i'm not asking, simon, i'm telling you," you coo. you pick up one of his hands and trace one of his scars with your finger. you have long, almond-shaped nails. there's pretty chrome nail art over the wine red color you wear, and he focuses on it as you kiss his knuckles gently. "will you wait for me to come home?"

"where y'goin'?"

"gotta work, honey," you wink down at him. "and i want you to be here when i get back."

"tha' so?"

"mhm," you smile. "right here. in my bed--" you lift the covers a little and peek, giggling as you put it back down after getting a glimpse at his cock resting against his lower stomach. "just like this, simon."

he doesn't remember if he ever goes back to his flat. he thinks he went one more time, to grab a few bottles of his medication, but the tick in his knee hadn't been so bad with the great physical therapy you started paying for and the warm massages you gave him every night.

and his back--your bed always contours perfectly against the muscles of his back, and he finds himself sleeping a full seven hours every single night.

not to mention his new work outs. simon hadn't been to the gym much since coming home, but he knows he must be burning hundreds of calories with you. you test his limits. as soon as you're home, you jump on him, and the stress relief your pussy brings him is just what he needs to get the edge off. you're a fiend, especially after a rough day, and the way you bounce on his cock in every room of your flat keeps him up at night sometimes with the most glorious wet dreams.

you're up late that night. you're curled up on the couch in one of simon's shirts and a glass of red wine, and there's a mountain of papers around you that you're focusing on reading. you have a huge presentation tomorrow, and everything needs to be perfect. simon comes into the living room, shirtless, and you smile when you see him standing there. he's wearing the new sweats you got him, but you can't focus on that too much when you're staring at his pudgy, toned stomach and his nice pecs. you bite your lip, taking a long sip of your wine, and simon hikes up his mask to take a bite out of his bowl of ice cream.

"gonna be up late tonight?" he asks, and you nod. "want me to sit with ya?" you nod again, lifting up your legs, and when he takes a seat next to you, you drape them across his lap. you lean over to give his scarred cheek a kiss, and when you turn back to your paperwork, a thought comes across your mind.

"we should get married," you say softly, circling a note over something. simon keeps eating, as if what you said doesn't phase him.

"why's tha', love?"

"tax benefits."

"mmm..." simon drops one of his hands and thumbs against your ankle. the flat is warm. his stomach is full. his body hurts less, and his heart aches with something nice. "olright then."

you smile.

"good. cause i already bought the ring."

NEXT

[3liza]

i said this YEARS ago when the 'vibes based literacy" discussion started because i had been reading about dyslexia to try to help my partner at the time, who was undiagnosed: the book about dyslexia that i was reading described precisely the techniques used in the "contextual guessing" reading education system, but as dysfunctional adaptations by dyslexic children. the contect guessing and memorization thing is a way of teaching entire generations of children to be functionally dyslexic, a profound and devastating disability, when they do not have dyslexia and do not need to have it. it's horrifying. it was how my partner read things, and watching him try to read something out loud was extremely demonstrative of the struggle he was having.

ken goodman probably had dyslexia and didn't know it, it's the most common learning disability in the world, an estimated 20% of all humans on earth have some degree of it.

In the paper, Goodman rejected the idea that reading is a precise process that involves exact or detailed perception of letters or words. Instead, he argued that as people read, they make predictions about the words on the page using these three cues: 1. graphic cues (what do the letters tell you about what the word might be?) 2. syntactic cues (what kind of word could it be, for example, a noun or a verb?) 3. semantic cues (what word would make sense here, based on the context?) Goodman concluded that: Skill in reading involves not greater precision, but more accurate first guesses based on better sampling techniques, greater control over language structure, broadened experiences and increased conceptual development. As the child develops reading skill and speed, he uses increasingly fewer graphic cues.

he's completely wrong, this not how fully literate people read. this is how dyslexic people read. fully literate people are using phonics and the alphabet all the time, that's how we read so fast and so easily, even texts that we're unfamiliar with or that aren't in our native language. i can scan a page of italian, french or norwegian and get the gist of it even though i don't speak the languages. i can sound out those words and pronounce them, even if im pronouncing them incorrectly, just by reading the actual letters and phonemes.

relying on context to predict which word comes next is what leads to the kind of aphasia dyslexics often exhibit not only while reading, but when speaking aloud. my partner would swap words that were contextually correct but not what he actually meant all the time. for example if he wanted me to hand him a blue comb lying nearby on a table, he would say "could you please hand me the green brush?" or if he was describing a cat he saw, he would often swap in another contextually-related word, one that sounded the same, like "bat", or one that was conceptually related but incorrect, like "dog". as a result i had to ask him to clarify or repeat himself many times to figure out what he was trying to say. it created profound problems for him and separated him from me and everyone else. the worst part is that he was barely aware of this. when he was driving it was extremely difficult for him to follow or give directions because he would swap out "left" and 'right" randomly.

you cant actually read like this.

She thinks the students who learned three cueing were actually harmed by the approach. "I did lasting damage to these kids. It was so hard to ever get them to stop looking at a picture to guess what a word would be. It was so hard to ever get them to slow down and sound a word out because they had had this experience of knowing that you predict what you read before you read it."

[aninipanin1]

Some ideas for Manager are them accidentally getting hit with an off course ball, learning how to play football so they can help out a bit or perhaps, for old manager (but ig young manager could work too), them having used to play football before and having the world five/the coaches help them brush up on their rusty skills so they can help the boys with overtime practice, perhaps?

Sorry, I can't say I have any more ideas beyond this

KICKED TO THE HEAD

Notes: This req is lowkey so cute! I chose young manager instead if youre fine with it hehehe, but I will try to make another one to answer the other two req because I lowkey like them.

"Hmm, next on my to-do list is to check up on each stratum. Hmm, since the closest to where I am is the German Stratum, I'll head there first!"

You found yourself skipping away to where the training field was, where you know the players were currently training. It was a not-so regular day in the Blue Lock Facility due to the fact that the continuation of the Neo-Egoist League matches will be held in 3 days time.

Hence, all players, masters and even staff were busy, slaving away in their training or jobs. You decided to just give a small peek to each stratum, wanting to ask anyone if all are alright and well-taken cared off.

As the manager, you always found yourself feeling unsatisfied if even one of the players are not very comfortable with whatever it is that is under the guise of your job. Their cleats are a bit too uncomfortable? Your bad, you didn't pick the right cleats for them! Was the bedsheets a bit itchy? Oops, you did not di your job well to make it clean and spotless.

Sure, it was a lot of pressure, but you liked it. It made you feel useful, made you feel motivated, made you smile. Were you a masochist? Maybe, but if its for the betterment of the players, you were ready to do it. After all, the Blue Lockers, Ego and Anri were not the only ones dreaming for Japan to win the World Cup.

Putting your hair in a comfortable hairstyle, you entered the training field where you can see the Bastard Munchen players were running around the field, doing simulations and other strategical work that you could not help but be impressed with.

'Wow...the places where the players are are so fitting for their playstyles! That's Bastard Munchen for you! Very logical!'

A smile was on your face as your eyes followed where the ball was passed from player to player. Watching matches, practice or not, is always entertaining for you. The cogs in your mind spinning and turning, trying to connect and make sense with all the details and information your eyes can take in.

It always feels entertaining and freeing to do this. To spectate, to watch each player. Like you were the audience of an orchestra or a mastermind behind the pieces of a chessboard. Everything and everyone felt like they were within arm's reach, like you were a puppeteer choosing not to move the strings and instead, let your dolls move themselves.

But, you know that if you so much as wish to affect the game, you can.

"Do you see anything, Y/n?"

Almost jumping due to the shock, you turned to face the French master, Noel Noa, who looked at you curiously. You have been quite close with the master strikers in the facility, especially Noel Noa, who seemed to be quite fond of you, too, finding your nature and aura quite adorable. Maybe it was because you were quite young and still naive, or maybe it was because you were always so happy and excited to learn more about the sport, he did not know.

But, what he does know is you were a very precious kid he would like to take under his wing.

"Um, its just the usual I see, Noa-san. Nothing too big! Maybe its because its just practice..?"

You tilted your head, looking down on your notebook that had many doodles and notes you made throughout the week. There were doodles of the players and what they need to improve on. And well, you were more than happy to add more to the things you already totted down.

However, due to this, you did not really see the missed shot Kaiser did, while he trained his infamous Kaiser Impact again and again. Nor did you hear the shouts of some of the players about the incoming ball, or hell, even the shwip sound of the ball as it rushed through the air and went to where your head was.

So, to your surprise, when you find yourself blacking out for a second due to a hard force impacting on your forehead, that it made you sit on the floor. It hurt, yes, and you can feel the blood dripping from your nose, but the most dominant reaction you can feel is shock.

Meanwhile, the rest of the players, were not as calm as you were.

"Oi, Kaiser, you bastard! I'm gonna punt you!" Isagi shouted from the other side of the field as he stood up, ready to fight the German striker.

"Y/n-chan!! Are you okay?!" Hiori and Ness were the first ones to run to where you are, worried about your dazed expression.

"Kaiser. Laps around the field." Noa's eyes were slanted like a hawk, as he kneeled beside you, patting your head softly to comfort you a bit.

Kaiser, on the other hand, was the most petrified of all. He knows how much force his kick had, from experience and, of course, his own knowledge of his strength. And he was very much worried and shocked, blinking his blue eyes like he saw something very traumatising.

He didn't mean to. He knows he did nof. But that did not make him feel less bad. Especially since he hurt you of all people. The only person who was not rude to him, but also did not patronise him like a certain someone (ahem, Ness), even if he acted like a douche to you in the beginning of the Neo-Egoist League.

And also the fact that you weren't like him and the other players, who were used to receiving any loose ball that had hard and forceful impacts. But even then, he couldn't move fast enough to be the first one to make sure you were okay.

"Y/n-chan, where are you right now? What team and stratum are you in?" Yukimiya also was beside you, asking questions to make sure you didn't have a concussion or any brain damage. Thankfully, you answered all his questions quite well, and you didn't seem to be hurt at all. Just shocked and a bit sore from the impact, but nothing major.

"I'm fine, everyone. I wasn't just paying attention. Sorry, everyone. Sorry, Kaiser-"

"Why the fuck are you the one apologising? You were the one hurt!" Kaiser said out of nowhere, holding your shoulder as you blinked at the mini outburst he had. The blonde-haired man was panting, although not too heavily, it was still noticeable that he was heaving due to the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders.

At first, you thought it was because of the practice, but the worried look beneath the usual nonchalance in his eyes told you otherwise.

"U-uh...sorry- um no wait- I meant, its just because you got blamed for all of it when it was an accident and now you're in trouble."

"I don't give a crap about that. Just...just go to the damn clinic...make sure...you're not having a concussion or whatever."

Like a drunkard being poured cold water, Kaiser realized that you two were not the only people in the field, and that many eyes were watching. So, he retracted his arms and turned around, trying his best to hide the confusing mixture of worry and self-disappointment as he walked back to the field.

"Are you sure you're okay, Y/n-chan?" Isagi asked as he sat beside you, Kurona sitting on your other side ontop of the clinic bed as some of the Bastard Munchen players stood infront of you, also wanting to make sure you were okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine. This is nothing."

"If you say so, but if you feel dizzy or just if anything is wrong, tell us immediately." Yukimiya said he held the ice pack to where the ball hit, while you wiped the excess blood from your nose.

"Yeah, yeah! Its bad to hold back what you're feeling." Kurona added, while Hiori was just quiet as he gave you your stuff, placing it on the desk beside the bed.

Meanwhile, Kaiser and Ness also stood beside you, Ness, along the worried ones as he patted your head softly, hopeful that it might help in some way, shape or form. Meanwhile, Kaiser and Isagi were already starting to argue, Isagi telling Kaiser to becareful next time and Kaiser being on the defensive as the two threw roast upon roast against each other.

"Your blindass is so rich, you can't even buy sports glasses? Even Yukimiya is responsible enough to do that!"

"Oh, please. I'm blind? You're fucking senseless."

The rest of players, well except for Ness who was fully supporting and backing up Kaiser, just watched with done and dotted eyes.

"Jesus, they never shut up, huh?" Hiori rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Theyre too, too intense sometimes." Kurona added as finally, Yukimiya sighed and gave his polite smile.

"I think thats enough for today, you two. Y/n-chan needs her peace and quiet to recover."

ADDITIONAL TIME!

BARCHA

"Bachira!! We can't!!" Kitsunezato said as he tried to stop the said striker from walking out.

"Yeah, you know that Lavinho-san won't like it." Hayate added, but Bachira was far from listening.

"NO! I need to see if Y/n-chan's okay!! I'll beat that German up the next time I see him!!"

"Please, don't- C'mon Otoya! Help us out here!" But, unfortunately for them, Otoya was somewhat agreeing to what the brown and blonde haired striker was saying and Kitsunezato sensing this, immediately prayed to whatever god there was, and even better plead to Otoya, himself.

"Oh god, please don't! We have enough with Bachira here! It was an accident!"

"But there is no accident when it comes to Y/n-chan being hurt!!" Bachira fought back.

"I agree-"

"Shut the hell up, Otoya!"

MANSHINE CITY

"WHAT?! Is she okay?!" Reo panicked when he heard the news.

"I swear, its always those from Bastard. What the hell is even happening in that stratum?" Chigiri said with annoyance and worry. Why does chaos always happen in that stratum he wondered.

"Y/n-chan...is she better now?" Nagi, commented from his bed, eyes abnormally wide, like a cat roused from its sleep by a predator.

"Yeah, I heard she's fine. She didn't have any serious concussion anything, which is lucky for all of us! She just needs to rest earlier today, but she will still be able to do her duties tomorrow!" The red-haired said, repeating what he heard from Isagi.

"Good. I kind of feel bad but happy at the same time. I want her to rest, but at the same time I want her to keep working so we can see her again tomorrow." Reo admitted, his back plopping on his bed, purple eyes looking up at the ceiling lights.

"I don't want Y/n-chan to be replaced as our manager, ever..."

"I don't think anyone in here wants that to happen at all, Nagi."

UBERS

"I should've kicked a ball straight to that Kaiser's face when I had the chance."

"That is a red card, Barou, but I don't even think I would stop you. Go wild." Niko sighed. The Ubers players just heard of the news and most of them were not happu with what they heard.

"Poor Y/n-chan, that has to hurt. I remember the first time I got hit on the face, and I'm a defender so I'm used to that! But she isn't even a player." Oliver said, cringing at the thought of being hit by a ball, much less from someone of Kaiser's calibre.

"Damn straight! And those useless peasants couldn't even protect her from those guys. Those damn donkeys." Barou said, his mind towards a specific raven-haired striker that he knew was not only his main rival, but also the main rival of Kaiser and hence why, he believed he was the most responsible for you not managing to avoid the ball in time.

PXG

"Charles! We're training that new move we're planning to make it better and make it hurt for our match with those Germans!" Shidou said, clearly pissed off at the news. The French midfielder only nodded his head, cheering along with the pink-haired striker.

"Fucking lukewarms, you should do it secretly not infront of the many cameras around this damned facility." Rin rolled his eyes, even he wasn't impressed when he heard that you got injured, much less bleeding!

"For the first time, you didn't say anything dumb, Rin-rin. You heard him Charles! We're going to meet up with that German bastard!"

"Yay! Yay! We're gonna avenge Y/n!"

But unfortunately for them, and fortunately for everyone else, Karasu was there to stop the two, holding the scruff of their uniforms immediately.

"Now, now. As much as I also want to square up on that guy, we can't go monster against his ass or do you wanna be electrocuted again, Shidou?"

The blonde and pink haired striker blinked at that and finally shrugged.

"We'll just have to beat them in the upcoming games. So, ya'll better train hard." Karasu said with finality as he headed to his room with the other Blue Lock players, and that idea did not sound bad at all in Rin, Shidou and even Charles' ears.

I hope you guys liked this one! This was supposed to be fun but it turned into some sort of twisted Kaiser angst piece lolol

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[hairmetal666]

Scandal follows Eddie Munson wherever he goes. He doesn't mean for it to, it just does. And, like, sure, he should've known that cavorting with a bunch of topless models in a hot tub in a chalet in the Swiss Alps was a bad idea, but 1) he's gay and 2) even if he wasn't, does anyone really care if a rockstar has an orgy these days?

Well, it turns out that they do. They do so much, in fact, that he hasn't known a moment's peace since the photos leaked. Every time they go outside, they're mobbed. Their socials are a disaster zone.

Chrissy, Jeff, Gareth, and Freak are sick of his shit, worried that this will ruin the world tour, which doesn't make any sense. All publicity is good publicity, right?

Anyway, he's not surprised when he, Chrissy, and the rest of the band are whisked away in a fancy car with dark-tinted windows, thinks they're about to fly home for a break. And honestly? Good riddance to Europe.

Imagine his surprise when he exits the car mere feet away from the sun soaked Mediterranean.

"Oh no. No, no, no." He says, trying to force his way back into the sedan.

"Oh, yes." Chrissy links her arm with his. "You need to lay low for a few days and this was the best I could manage on short notice."

He glares. "You know I hate boats."

"You do not," Gareth accuses.

"You're just mad at facing consequences for your actions," Jeff adds.

"I didn't do anything!" He wails.

Freak pulls out his phone, reads, "Munson, 26, has always been open about being gay, out of the closet since Corroded Coffin's first gig. Now, though, his sexuality is in question. Multiple women have come forward to claim they slept with the rockstar. And, while many of the women in the photo have said that Munson was 'deeply uninterested' in them, the fact remains that his antics are more Motley Crue than Troye Sivan."

Eddie groans up at the sky. "Why would I be anything like Troye Sivan!? I'm in a heavy metal band! And he's around boobies all the time! Honestly, has no one been to a rave?"

"Not since the 90's." Chrissy smiles brightly, continues up the dock.

"I'm never forgiving any of you for this."

"It's a luxury yacht, Eddie. You'll survive," Gareth says.

He very bravely does not point out that he's wearing black jeans and an over-sized black hoodie and black platform Doc Martens, so obviously he's not the type of person equipped for any kind of boat.

The conversation ends but only because, when they get up to the main deck and the crew waiting for them, he sees the most beautiful man in the world. Artfully messy sun-bronzed hair, strong jaw, classic nose, skin dotted with freckles. Aviators hide his eyes, but even the sunglasses look good on him. Not to mention the little white uniform that shows off all of his many many muscles.

Eddie stares at him, blatantly, unabashedly, totally missing the introduction to the rest of the crew.

As soon as he's left to his own devices, he locks himself in his cabin. Not even the chance to gawk at that hot guy can draw him out of his pout. They can force him onto a boat, but they can't make him enjoy it.

He lasts until afternoon the next day, when Jeff barges in, surprising him enough that the throws his phone with a very un-rockstar yelp.

"You have to come out." Jeff's arms are crossed over his chest.

"Nope." Eddie relaxes back into his pillows. "Not until this is over."

"So, you're going to stay in your room for a week?"

"Guess so."

"Orr, you could come out and enjoy yourself instead of pouting over what your own actions caused."

"My actions!" He shrieks. "My actions! I stumbled on a bunch of topless French models in a hot tub, and I'm at fault?"

"No, you being drunk enough to get in with them was the problem."

"I wasn't even that drunk! I just thought it was funny. They did too!"

Jeff sighs. "You get yourself into a situation more than any person I've ever met."

"See? It's not my fault."

"I mean. It kind of is. I suspect any other guy would learn how to avoid this."

"I'm not leaving."

"Man, Chrissy isn't going to let you stay in here."

"Too bad."

"She told me to carry you out, if I had to."

"You wouldn't."

"If you come out, you can chat up the cute bosun."

"The bos-what?"

"Bosun. The guy you were ogling when we boarded. His name is Steve. He's really nice. He--"

"I was not ogling him."

"Eddie. You looked like you wanted to eat him for dinner."

"I'm not leaving the room." He sing-songs.

Look, would he have fought so hard if he'd known that Jeff was strong enough to toss him over his shoulders and fireman-carry him out of the room and up the stairs? He would not.

Instead, he screams the whole way from his cabin to the deck, where he's unceremoniously deposited into a lounge chair next to Chrissy. She's in a hot pink bikini, sipping a cocktail.

"Good to see you." She deadpans.

He glares. "Et tu, Chrissy?"

From behind him, a rich voice calls out, "Glad you could join us." It is, of course, the hot bosun. He waves when he catches Eddie looking in his direction.

Eddie sinks down in the lounger, Chrissy stifling giggles against her elbow.

---

The thing is, Steve is nice. He's nice and he's funny and he's hardworking. He's good with the other deckhands, Dustin, Max, and Lucas; strict but fair and good at keeping everyone on task. The stewards, Nancy, Robin, and El, all love him. Sometimes, he'll be down on all fours scrubbing the deck, and his t-shirt will bunch up, reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his taunt stomach that makes Eddie feel like a feral dog.

He's out on the top deck reading a copy of The Hobbit that Dustin loaned him, when Steve comes around the corner.

"Oh! Eddie, hey." Steve smiles. "Didn't realize there were any guests still up here."

"Do you need me to move?" He asks. He swings his feet over the side of the lounger.

"Not at all. Just wasn't expecting you." Steve's puttering around, picking up the detritus of the day. "I'm glad we've been able to overcome your expectations of boats."

His squeak is indignant. "It wasn't about the boat! I was brought here against my will!"

Steve smiles at him, eyes glittering. "Yeah, what a horrible punishment, boarding a luxury yacht for a Mediterranean cruise."

Eddie grabs at his chest, mimes being shot in the heart. "Stevie, how could you? All this time I thought you were on my side."

"Eh," he shrugs. "You were kind of being a baby."

He falls off the lounger at this. "The killing blow," he wails.

Laughing, Steve extends a hand, helps him to his feet. Their eyes meet and Eddie's struck, once again, by the way the hazel shines so gold, even at twilight.

"I'm being punished," he says, looking away.

"Again, getting on a chartered yacht for a week is not much of a punishment."

"I have a tendency to find myself involved in shenanigans."

"The topless women," Steve says.

Eddie groans. "You know about that?"

Steve does a real bitchy thing with his eyebrows that makes Eddie very warm in places it shouldn't. "Everyone knows about it."

"Okay. I'll have you know those boobs meant nothing to me, which is why it was fine! We had fun! Also, I am very, very gay. Like. The gayest."

"Oh, I know." Steve grins.

He doesn't know what to do with that. Changes the subject instead. "I hadn't clocked you for someone who listened to our stuff."

"I don't. Or well. Not really. No offense. The kids love you guys. And Robin. It's just--it's really loud? Not really my thing. Some good lyrics, though."

"No, I get it." He nods, licks his lips. "I write most of our songs." He's not sure why he says it, what he hopes to get from it.

"I know," Steve says.

"Oh." Eddie smiles down at his hands, The Hobbit. Before he can say more, Chrissy calls him down for dinner.

---

It's no secret that the Corroded Coffin boys are diehard dnd fans. They've done interviews about it, posted video of their sessions on YouTube and TikTok. Everyone knows they play, everyone knows Eddie DMs, so, he supposes, it's only a matter of time before Dustin and Lucas asks if he would DM for them.

The band, Chrissy, Lucas, Dustin, Max, Nancy, El, and Robin all agree to play. When asked, Captain Hopper snorts, doesn't take his eyes off the horizon, and Steve tells Dustin, "You know nothing in the world will make me play that game, kid. I'll try to stop by, though."

Eddie is totally in his element, everyone is having a blast, even Captain Hopper stops by. And Steve--he shows up after fifteen minutes, stays the whole time, can't keep his eyes off Eddie. He's not sure if it spurs him on, makes him more wild and dramatic, but the game is electric, the mood high.

It's an amazing night, one of the best of Eddie's life, and that's really saying something. They go late, well into the morning, but he's too hyped to sleep. He's pacing across the deck when Steve appears.

"You were great tonight." He says.

Eddie feels like he's effervescing. "You should think about playing sometime."

"Nah." Steve ducks his head a little. "Wouldn't be the same without you leading."

There's not a ton of space separating them, but he closes the distance anyway. "That could be arranged," he says, voice low.

"Yeah?" Steve meets his eyes, doesn't look away.

"If you want."

The air between them goes heavy, tightens, the silence lengthens.

"I can't," Steve breathes. "I'm working."

"No, yeah," Eddie nods. He steps back, runs his hand through his hair. He's never said no to something like this, never to someone like Steve. "I'm avoiding--"

"Situations." Steve finishes.

"Oh, but, Stevie, you're a situation I want very much."

"Take me on a date tomorrow."

"It would be my pleasure," he says.

He should leave but--he does love an occurrence, so he lets the impulsivity fly-- leans forward, places a soft kiss at the corner of Steve's mouth.

"Tomorrow, sweetheart."

[withahappyrefrain]

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 

It also brought up many questions. 

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 

At least that's what the other thought. 

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 

“Been awhile?” 

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 

“Try never.” 

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 

Darn those long limbs. 

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 

You rubbed your thighs together. 

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 

“You…like doing it?” 

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 

“You don't have to wait.” 

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 

You heard me. 

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 

For what, you couldn't tell. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you want it to be different?” 

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 

He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 

How could he do that so quickly? 

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 

Thank god your parents were on vacation. 

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  

He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 

Good. 

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 

And he had just gotten started. 

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Robby.” 

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 

Why did either of you wait this long? 

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 

Jesus Christ, he was huge. 

“Fuck, she was right.” 

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 

“I….we can unpack this later-” 

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 

Darlin. You were his darlin. 

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 

Even he didn't know when he would return home. 

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 

“I don't want you to go.” 

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 

He was going to need it for the next few months. 

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 

You’d be a damn fool to. 

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

---------------------------------------------------------

@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

[gunsandspaceships]

Which of the OG6 Avengers can cook?

Based on the evidence from the films, I divided our six into three groups.

Group 1: Don't cook and don't try

Clint

Throughout his journey in the MCU, Clint has shown no signs of cooking skills, only eating skills.

We've seen him eating Laura's food, obviously, Grills' cooking, restaurant food and takeout. But he's never cooked on screen, and hasn't shown any willingness to do so.

Nat

No evidence of culinary skills, despite the assumption that it would be wise for the Red Room to teach Black Widows to be good housewives. The Red Room did not, as we can observe in this illustration:

And in this scene:

Nat was never seen cooking, and even when it made sense to cook, she chose ready-to-eat foods or simply made a sandwich.

But she knows how to make cocktails, so that's a plus.

Group 2: Do try, but they better not

Steve

Self-admitted that he sucks at cooking, but at least he tries.

It makes sense that he knows the basics, but he learned them during a time of not-so-great taste. It doesn't look like he was trying to take it to the next level, but it does look like others have had some experience with his cooking, and now it's an entertaining topic.

Tony

Eggs.

He can cook eggs. With varying success. What else he can do (with more consistent success) is start fires and experiments.

For which he ends up being kicked out of the kitchen of his own house.

By the way, the kitchen is officially Pepper's, which already says something.

Group 3: Cook and do it well

Bruce

Bruce can cook. But despite the fanon that he is a super chef who can cook dishes from all the cuisines of the world, there is no evidence of this in the films.

Instead, we are shown him preparing very simple dishes, and he is not always confident in his skills.

Perhaps between his solo film and She-Hulk he's gotten better in that regard.

What he definitely knows how to do is prepare different cocktails.

Thor

If this post can be considered a top list, then Thor will most likely be our winner.

He cooks food from different cuisines (apparently from different planets), serves it skillfully, learns quickly and shows enthusiasm.

And we can see this already in his first film. When he first arrived on Earth, he was already using the toaster oven and making French toasts, which he had probably never tried before.

He then cooked for Jane and learned to make excellent pancakes, judging by her reaction.

And even though his food doesn't always look appetizing to Midgardians, he knows what he's doing.

He can also make you a Bloody Mary for breakfast.

Thus, once again we come to the destruction of stereotypes. This time the stereotype that since Thor had servants for most of his long life, he cannot have the desire to cook and cannot learn and do it well. In fact, he turns out to be the closest thing on the team to a professional chef.

[kiwicopia]

🔞 Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Fem!Reader (blurb) 🔞

CW: Remy being soft, spooning, neck kisses, cock warming, hints of sex at the end.

Note: I haven't seen Deadpool & Wolverine yet, but spoilers let me know that Gambit girlies ate well. That being said, I'm basing this around 97's Gambit. Pardon if my French is poorly written.

Rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains of his room, illuminating your sleeping figure beside him. The sheets were draped over your hips, allowing for his fingers to gently dance along your side. Remy wasn’t a pious man, but moments like this seemed like a small slice of heaven for him. Moments that he could selfishly cherish every morning. His body scooted forward a little, the added warmth of his chest against your back causing you to stir slightly. 

“Ma chérie,” he whispered. His lips pressed against your bare shoulder, trailing soft kisses up to the sweet spot behind your ear. He heard you chuckle in response, the sound causing his lips to curl as he pressed another kiss behind your ear. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“It’s fine,” you told him. “I have to get up, anyway.” Your body shifted as you tried to roll over and face him, but he slid an arm around you, keeping your back flush against his chest. “Remy—.” 

“Stay,” he said. His arm tightened around you while he adjusted himself, moving so that your head now rested on his outstretched arm. “Drills can wait, mon amour.” Remy was a stubborn man and lover—something you had learned the more time spent with him—and you knew how much he disliked your morning drills in the Danger Room. They were mornings in which he deemed could be better spent with him instead. 

A small sigh fell from your lips. “Fine, morning drills can wait a bit longer.” He smirked a little before letting a hand drift down your stomach, relishing in the way your thighs parted, as if expecting his touch. Instead, his hand slid under your thigh, fingers curling around the plump flesh before lifting your leg up a little. It was just enough for the head of his cock to push through your folds before letting himself rest in your warm, gummy walls. The feeling of being filled caused your body to squirm a little against him. “What are you doing?” You asked. It was a rhetorical question, really. You already knew what he was planning. 

“Stayin’ warm,” Remy answered. His eyes closed while his lips trailed kisses from the spot behind your ear and down to your bare shoulder. You wanted to roll your eyes, but all you did was moan when his dick twitched, causing your walls to squeeze him just enough to make him groan in satisfaction at the feeling. “Makin’ it difficult to stay warm, chérie.” Remy’s fingers dug into your thigh a little. “We can have a little morning drill of our own, yeah?” 

The suggestion he tossed out was too good to pass up—as if he’d ever let you in the first place—and your head gave a small nod. “Okay,” you agreed. A little workout before morning drills never hurt anyone, right? Your lover smirked against your skin, soon peppering a few more kisses to your shoulder before trailing up to your neck. Unbeknownst to you, however, the Cajun man had no plans on letting you go for drills. Not for a while, anyway. 

[writingwisterias]

Belonging

Single Dad!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, MNDI, Needy Dom!Leon, Touched-Starved, DILF!Leon, Unprotected Sex, Fluff, Comfort, Edging, Oral, Overstimulation, Orgasm-Denial, Praise Kink,

Summary: Maybe sometimes it's worth being a bit selfish

I hope you enjoy, it's inspired by all my anons Headcanons over DILF!Leon !! Also I read somewhere on Reddit that his favorite film was French connections so his daughter is named after a character in that

Words: 7.6k

Thank you Eva for beta reader @clitorphosis 😘

Mornings like this were always his favourite, where the breeze flowed through that gap in the window that he never shut. His soft sheets wrapped around his body encasing himself in warmth that the fabric provided and let's not forget the small breaths that fanned over his chest as he tugged the little body closer. Her blond hair spewn out across his arm and chest as she clinged onto him for dear life. He’d ignore the pain that rose as her fingers dug into his flesh, the action feeling somewhat familiar to others in his past. Leon was never sure how his life gave him these moments, how despite all the shit he has gone through his little angel shines brightly in it. Marie Kennedy, the guardian angel that saved her father from himself. 

He would now never come to regret the decisions that led him to this point. All of his years of self torture wondering where his life was going and what his true purpose was meant to be; came crashing down as soon as her little finger held onto his when she was finally in his arms. It didn’t matter that her mother wasn’t a part of the picture, not when he promised himself to fill that role as much as he could for her. For now it was easy, listening to the 4 year old ramble about the disney princess’. Half the words coming out as a babbled mess with a few he could understand mixed in. 

The harder parts he was sure would soon come, but he now has an army of people who would help him.There was little point in him thinking about her older years, not when she was still so clingy that he couldn't do the reports at home without her sitting in his lap. Her pink crayons always end up scribbling a few lines in the corner of his reports. Thank god it wasn’t unusual for Hunnigan to proofread them before she handed them in, there was now an eraser on her desk stained pink as she tried to scrub them away for him. 

Leon’s work attitude improved, he no longer felt the never ending doom within his service. Instead, he focused on working hard to make the world a better place for his angel. 

Leon worked his fingers through the blonde stands of her hair, detangling them before she's even woken up. He watched her as she snuggled further into his chest, as if she could get any closer without being completely on top of him. He wasn’t sure when she had snuck her way into his bed last night but he wasn’t going to argue or tell her off. He never did – not when his body instantly reacted everytime, pulling her into his safe embrace. The action was his favourite, the most soothing to him; after all it was the only place in the world he could ensure nothing would get to her. Not without the lack of trying anyway. 

It was surprising that even with the sun periodically lighting up the room when the curtains would blow with the breeze that she still didn't wake. Leon no longer needed an alarm clock, not when Marie would come running in jumping on the bed excitedly begging for him to take her to the cafe. 

Leon knew he couldn’t cook for shit; he never really had to learn, not when he barely had the time to sit in his apartment before being called on another mission again. Most of the meals she ate were frozen foods, something quick and easy for him in case he did have to leave quickly. So it came to no surprise that her favourite meal of the day was breakfast. He wouldn’t blame her either when you delivered the food, always with a large and welcoming smile.

Leon only ever tried his best for her. Everyone that had met the pair could see it. There wasn’t anything that man wouldn’t do for his little girl. He was never late to collect her or drop her off from kindergarten. Never bought his work home besides a few non-descriptive reports. Leon made sure that the home was filled with everything she needed; it was her little palace not his. It went as far as him even choosing to eat off the pink princess plates instead of boring ‘adult’ ones. Of course his angel made sure to get him his favourite character, Mulan always staring back at him once he finished. 

Leon kissed the crown of her head, smiling at the waft of apple shampoo that filled his nose. In terms of waking up your energetic 4 year old, that's at least a pleasant way to do it. He chuckled as he felt her head shaking against his skin as she slowly rose, her tiny fists rubbing at her eyes before the smile came. The one that was always brighter than any star, sun or flash bang he’s seen. His favourite sight in the morning. “Morning sleepy head” He soothed as she finally looked at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck giggling as she peppered his face with her small kisses. 

He couldn’t help but laugh along with her holding her body close. “Morning Daddy” she replied, pulling back to look at him with nothing but love. He often found himself wondering if she would do the same as she grew up, if she would keep looking at him like the stars shined out of his ass. There was no hiding her from his past when she was older, the horrors were still too present in his mind and with technology advancing, who knows how long he would still be doing this. 

However, he was forever thankful that he had people that looked after her a year ago. The world beat him too hard but for her…he had to pull through. That situation now left her with an army of uncles and aunties, all willing to step in for him. To make sure that no matter what happened he could rest easy knowing she was taken care of.  

Leon didn’t get a chance to sit up before she bounced off the bed, her excited feet going in the motion to drag him awake. He smiled as she tried with all her might, just like every morning, to get him up. “Alright alright, I’m getting up” He laughed, his hand falling on her head stroking the hairs lovingly one more time before standing up. His body popped and cracked as he stretched it out, the abuse it's been through for many years now catching up to him.

Once dressed, Leon turned to see her playing silently with her rabbit, blabbering god knows what to the well loved toy. Her blond hair messy on one side, her cheek still red from where it was pressed against his warm chest. Once he was situated it was her turn, he practically chased her to the room. Following the sounds of playful giggles as she ran away. The pink walls were a form of comfort for him, the fairy stickers he remembered being a nightmare to place now made it feel magical. He always let her choose what she wanted to wear, only reminding her the items of clothing that she needed to find. 

Outfit situated Marie sat in front of him, playing quietly with her toys as he worked on her hair. Carefully detangling it with the brush before braiding, silently reminding himself of the steps that Claire taught him. It was only a basic braid, nothing too complicated for him but it was enough to ensure her hair never got tangled and he didn’t have to deal with nits when they broke out in her class. Leon cringed at the memory of the only time it happened, shuddering at her little sniffles as Claire and Jill worked the combs through the hair as gently as they could, whilst he stood there helpless. Only being able to offer her cuddles once the ‘torture’ was over.  

“Breakfast?” She asked him, looking at him with her version of puppy dog eyes. Not that she needed them with him. Leon grinned as she tried to contain her excitement, wiggling on the spot as he zipped up her coat. “Stay still or I’ll get you angel” He chuckled. It was a repeated phrase, her excitement and enthusiasm was one of the things he treasured most as she grew up. Sure she got in a few cupboards she shouldn’t have when she began crawling and silence always unnerved this household. Ending up being the most common signal that she was up to something. 

“Do you think she’ll be there today?” Her small voice asked as she watched him secure her mittens. He knew she was talking about you, her favorite person in the world. A title bribed with your seemingly endless knowledge on the princess’ she cared so much about and the tiny pancakes you forced the chefs to make for an infamous bunny. None of the other staff members seemed to care about them as he walked in there with her. Maybe it was because he had to deal with her mini meltdowns over it being your day off.

“I’m sure she will be Angel, she was there last saturday” He chuckled, watching as she paused, her features scrunching as she thought about it. Trying to determine if her dad was cruel enough to lie again. 

There was a possibility that he should put more thought into you being her favorite person. Having to explain the connection and routine he’s created for his little one where her mood for the rest of the day is determined by your presence would be a tricky one. Even more so if it was to someone he was trying to date, not that he was trying to find someone. His love life had run dry since the screaming baby was introduced, the welfare of his toddler was more important than any woman he bought home. The drinking had slowed as soon as she was born, he can't drink himself to sleep every night if a newborn cries every 2 hours.  

Her fingers clenched around his hand, holding tightly as he guided her to the car. The Disney CD started playing once he began to drive; he never really had the heart to turn it off and put something that he would have preferred instead. Even when she wasn’t in the car. His Dad Rock days were on a pause for now. 

The car was filled with the sound of his humming. Occasionally broken by half hearted responses to Marie as she babbled about the things they passed. Her sticky fingers left marks on the window, that he never would clean off, as she pointed at them. It didn’t matter that they passed the same sights everyday or spoke about the same tree that was sprouting flowers now spring was around the corner. These moments are what made everything worth it. 

Your body turned towards the entrance of the cafe, the sound of the bell above the door signalling someone had entered. The smile you wore was bright but it was still the fake one that was reserved for the customers you weren’t familiar with. However, it was quick to change when you saw the familiar mop of brown hair and heard mummers of the deep voice you had grown familiar with, whispering a small curse as he tried to stop the toddler from colliding into your legs. You didn’t care, he knew that but at least this time you had warning. You crouched to her level, arms open wide as she collided with you. 

“There's my favorite customer! You’re later than normal, I thought I missed you” you chuckled, holding her tight as she giggled. Leon stood to the side a smile forming on his lips as he watched over the interaction. He was holding her little pink backpack over his shoulder, His leather jacket was done up tightly around him, a black scarf laying uneven around his neck. “She finally decided to have a lay in,” he chuckled, his hand soothing the girl's head once again as you pulled away from her. The interaction had gained the attention of the other customers, all of them smiling at the poor 4 year old who now cowered behind her daddy's leg. “You guys just want the usual?” You asked him, holding your hand out for her to take as you began guiding them to the closest booth. 

Leon watched as his angel sprinted to your hand, grasping it tightly before her rambles began again. No longer scared thanks to your distraction. “Please, though a latte instead of the usual black coffee today” Leon replied as he took off her coat and helped her slide in the booth. “Finally get some sleep?” You asked with a sweet smile. You always gave him one of those, it was his little treat in the morning. One of the reasons he even came back here, seeing you interact with his daughter whilst he nursed the headache. You didn't care if your shift just started or you were about to finish, you always slid into the booth and spoke to him. Gave him the sense of normalcy he needed when stress ate away at him, when he would return from a mission the horrors still haunting him every time he blinked. You were there. Always there.

“Enough that the coffee doesn't need to be strong” he chuckled. You smiled again, a silent encouragement towards him that he needed. You didn't know what he did for work, you didn't care. That's why you were loved here, sitting with anyone that looked like they needed it. The interactions give a sense of community to the lonely souls that washed up here. He was proud that he and his little girl got all of it when they came in. She needed a bond like this, maybe someday she would be able to turn to you for things she couldn’t talk to him about. It was a dangerous line to think about, it often left him thinking about what things could be if he took it further. If maybe you were a part of her life in a way that was more than just the kind lady that gave her extra pancakes. 

“I mean it's an improvement at least. Do we have Bunny with us today?” You asked, turning towards the girl that finally got herself situated. You laughed as Marie proudly showed it off, her small fingers wrapped tightly around the droopy ears. “What flavour pancakes are we both having today?” 

Leon couldn’t help but flash another smile at the way you were talking to her…and the rabbit toy. Watching these interactions didn’t stop the yearning for you he felt. However, Marie was still so young, introducing someone in her life that could possibly fill the role he couldn’t might end badly. Having to explain why they aren’t there anymore if things didn’t work out was something that always lingered in the back of his mind. When it comes to the relationship that she had with you he doesn’t want to ruin it because of a small blooming crush. It wouldn’t be fair for her or you. 

He watched you disappear to the kitchen, Marie finally turning to him again with the colouring activities you had placed on the table. Just like everyday he found himself colouring neatly in the lines of the silly cartoons on the paper. Whilst she scribbled blue over the top. She was lucky it was his favorite colour, so he could pardon her for ruining his neat lines. The vibrations in his pocket broke the bubble of peace he has created, a reminder of his responsibilities. The world didn’t care if it was a saturday. 

You watched from the coffee machine his brows pinch in frustrations, heard his tone become short as he looked down at his angel. You knew it wasn’t a good phone call, likely him being called into work again. When you finally placed his drink next to the crayons that were chaotically laid around the table. The phone call ended and Leon was now laid back against the seat in defeat. “Is there anything I can help you with?” You asked him, sitting across from him in the booth. Your knee bumped against his, drawing his attention from the rather boring ceiling lights back to you. You offered him a tight lipped smile whilst he thought about your question. 

“Work called me in…something about…important reports” He groaned, his hand reaching for the latte. It was funny watching his brows pinch at confusion as the latte art that stared back at him. A funny idea at the time, a cute smiley face. “You always order a black coffee so I never get to do my infamous art” You laughed. Leon smiled a soft chuckle escaping his lips, his frustrations momentarily on hold as he looked at the smiley face that stared back at him. You watched his adam's apple bob as he sipped the hot beverage. The burn of the liquid is a more favourable one compared to the other drinks he was used to. “There's no one to watch her. Everyone I trust is busy” He sighed, leaning back against the chair in defeat. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Leon paused, his whole body stiffened at your question. His gaze was intense as he scanned you contemplating your words. “I do” He nodded, “But whilst you’re at work? I can’t ask you to watch her as you do that” 

“Leon, I promise you it’s fine. I go off shift in a few minutes anyway. You both came in later remember” 

You watched him think it over again, his eyes flicking between you and his angel. It wasn’t about her this time, he knew she would be in good hands with you. The time you spend bonding over the years he’s visited didn’t account for nothing. He was just…thankful you would do this for him. To change the plans of your day to help him, it was a strange feeling in his chest. Perhaps his weakness is his little girl, if any woman showed an ounce of love towards her he would fall to his knees it would appear. “If it’s not too much trouble, I can drop you off at mine or yours…I don’t know which is easiest” He sighed, his hands grasping the mug tightly. 

You didn’t miss how tight his grip was, his nerves put on a back pedal for her. A wall that he held proudly and strongly to ensure Marie never knew what was happening. “Your place is fine. Besides, watching Movies all day with this little sweetheart sounds much better than laundry” You joked, looking over at the young girl that finally perked her head up at your sentence. Her blond hair swished rapidly as she nodded excitedly at the idea of a playdate with you. 

Marie’s reaction sold him. She was never this excited when the others looked at her, it was like she had forgotten about him entirely. He watched as she scooted around to your side of the table, the scribbled mess being dragged with her. “Thank you” He sighed, his posture finally relaxed again. “You don’t have to thank me” 

“I do” 

The car ride lacked any awkwardness. It felt almost like you belonged in the passenger seat, belting out the songs with your favourite duo. Despite the fact you were the only person in tune and singing the correct words. You didn’t miss his smile or the twinkle in his eyes. Leon had his arm propped up on the door of the car, his eyes remained on the road. You almost wanted to reach over the center console and lay your hand on his thigh but that would be wrong. You weren’t doing this to get in his pants. 

You did it because despite the way he hid behind a wall of cringey dad jokes and his care for others…for his daughter, you saw his longing for a complete family. So he didn’t have to explain why every kid had a mommy and she didn’t, to have a conversation as to why she wasn’t wanted by someone in that way. He craved for someone to fill the gap that was so glaringly obvious in this house– you could see it despite the fact he never mentioned it. Never asked for it either, he dealt with the hand he was given just as he always did. 

It wasn’t wrong for you to think it could be you. To hope it could be you. You loved them both, they created a sense of safety just as you did for them. It was clear that you would be a perfect match with how natural this felt. You understood why he was cautious, you knew he was a man with a dark past – a closet full of skeletons. It didn’t stop you from wanting him to dive head first into his arms without caring about what happens after. You needed them as much as they needed you. 

Leon gave you a quick tour as well as a scribbled note of her evening routine in fear he couldn’t escape early enough. Until eventually with enough reassurance from you and slobbery kisses from his toddler he left. Leaving you both to a house stocked with enough blankets to build a fort. 

“So…how about we build a palace?” You asked the girl, looking down at where she was standing next to you. Her face covered in a small pout, her bunny clutched tightly in her arms as she waited for her dad to come back. It was adorable to see this side of her because normally you would only catch the energetic side where she would talk to you for hours over pancakes. You didn’t see the quiet toddler, the shy one that needed her daddy to feel safe.  Marie looked up at you, her brain considering the idea before shyly nodding a grin slowly replacing the frown. You knelt before her, taking one of her small hands in your own. A large grin plastered on your face when you asked “Where are all the blankets?” 

Some would call it a mess but you would call the perfect palace for the perfect little princess. At least she was treated as such in this house. The floor was covered in the couch cushions, Leon’s duvet laid over the top creating a layer of comfort. Trust the man to not cheap out on his bedding, the feather duvet felt heavenly as you both tested out beforehand. You tried to ignore the butterflies that became persistent as you became surrounded by the scent of him. The Cedarwood and musk instantly calms the two of you. 

She helped you hold the blankets as you pinned them in place. Running around giggling as she collected her favorite stuffed toys to add inside, the giant squishmellows worked as the perfect cushions. As you were setting up her star projector for ambience she appeared at the door of the fort in her onesie. The perfect slumber party, it was a shame you didn't have your PJs.

 “Looking cute” you smiled at the girl, watching her spin around to show it off. The unicorn onesie was a clash of bright pinks and purples, but it suited her perfectly. You couldn't have picked out a better one for her yourself. “Do you not have one?” She asked, walking closer to you for help with the zipper. You watched her brain contort as you helped her. Seeing the adorable comparison between her and her father's micro expressions, the way her brows pinched together as she thought. Her toothy grin now replaced with a tight lipped smile, almost like she was thinking of a solution that didn't involve you just cuddling in your work uniform. “It's okay, sweetheart. You're so cosy that it's enough for the both of us” you grinned hoping it will wipe away the slight frown on her face. 

You held out your hand offering it to her so she could follow you to the kitchen as you prepared her dinner. She sat on the counter watching you from a safe distance, rambling about anything that came into her mind. You tried to ignore the rising baby fever in the situation. Tried to ignore how natural this felt…how domestic it felt. 

The two of you were so engrossed in the domestic atmosphere that you missed the slam of the front door. As well as missing the muttered ‘what the fuck’ as the intruder approached the living room and was met with the cosy fort. Leon was home earlier than he thought, not that he was going to argue anyway. He was grateful for it, not wanting to keep you any longer than he needed. He also knew first hand how hard bath and bedtime was with his girl. However when he turned around, naturally following the sound of laughter his heart stuttered at the sight. It was everything he wanted for her…for himself. 

After putting the dinner in the oven you were now dancing around with the young girl to some random disney song you chose on your phone. Her small hands in yours, her blond hair whipping around with her. Laughter filled his home, it warmed the space up, ignited the home feeling he always craved for her. Leon wanted nothing more than to move and press himself against the sway of your hips. His eyes flicked between the enjoyment of the moment and you. There was no denying his attraction anymore, not when he wanted nothing more than to finally claim you as part of this family…as his. You slotted so perfectly – there was no other option than you belonging here. 

“So was I not invited to this party?” Leon chuckled, his voice cutting through the enjoyment of swaying and jumping. Marie let go of your hands, her small frame bolting it to him, the laughter following her. Was it wrong to think about how good it would feel to join in their hug? To have him press a kiss against your temple as you both welcomed him home. The more you stayed the more you wanted it. Wanted him. “Well, we set up a movie night for the two of you to enjoy” You spoke, smiling at him softly before gathering your things. You needed to leave, they didn’t need you here. He had told you countless times he wanted to focus on her and not a woman…not until she was old enough. 

“You’re leaving?” Leon questioned, placing Marie back on her feet before guiding her gently to her toys. She didn’t argue, not with him. “Uh…yeah, you are back right? I don’t want to intrude or anything” You replied standing awkwardly at the doorway of the hall. Leon looked between you and the fort, his brows furrowing as he fought with himself to let the question slip between his lips. The invitation to stay the night. He would be more than happy to sleep on the couch…or what remained of the couch. If it meant that you stayed, that you could keep the happiness you bought in the home he wanted you in and not the booth. “Please stay, I hate for you to waste all your time making a cool fort and not use it” He invited, a small smirk placed on his lips. 

There was no argument that would be valid, not when he looked at you like that. When his eyes spoke louder than his mouth, his silent admission that he wanted you here. “I suppose it would be pretty lame to miss out after all that effort” You smiled, setting your bag back down on the kitchen table. Your coat was forgotten from where it was draped along the dining chair. You couldn’t help but blush as the intensity of his expression increased, for once he looked relaxed and happy. 

It was hard not to admire him in the dim light of the laptop screen, to see the way his arm held the now sleeping toddler against him. He knew he should have carried her to bed a while ago but she was the only thing keeping you separate from him, a barrier he didn’t realise he needed until he looked at your content face. Watch the rise and fall of your chest as you laughed at the movie. “Guess I’ll put her to bed” He whispered, adjusting the girl onto his lap so he could carefully carry her. It was hard not to notice the muscles move, his arms on display now his jacket had been discarded. 

It was cute seeing him struggle to manoeuvre himself out of the door, silently fighting with the blanket you used. Leon froze when your fingers brushed past him, his breath catching in his throat as he caught the smell of your perfume as you leaned forwards to pull the blanket aside. “Thanks,” He muttered. He couldn’t look at the soft smile on your face, not when you were this close. The few loose strands of your hair tickling his cheek as you nodded. 

He took the time to steady himself as he put Marie to bed.He sat in the silence of the room watching the slow rise and fall of her chest; a sign that she was okay as always. It reminded him of when she was first born and he would sit and watch her newborn chest rise and fall not quite believing that she was okay, that she was really there. He was so alone in those moments, spending so many nights wondering if he was really cut out for this shit. Yet, when he texted you, late at night begging for someone to talk to after she wouldn’t stop crying, you always replied. Then when morning came and the tired father made his appearance at the cafe, a baby finally asleep in the car seat still, you soothed him and her. 

It was only then he realised that you integrated yourself in their life, helped them in the role they both needed…a mother and a partner. With one more kiss to her head Leon left the room finally deciding to be a little selfish for once. 

He had to admit it felt pretty stupid crawling back into the tent, the lack of his child changing the atmosphere now there wasn’t a barrier in between the two of you. “Did she wake up?” You asked him, his thigh pressed against yours. It felt childish sitting in this fort, like no one was going to hear the admissions you both clearly wanted to release. “She didn’t” 

The silence wasn’t awkward, that much Leon was thankful for. He just had so much to say, so many things to thank you for. This was too much, helping him out, looking after her like this. Marie never argued whilst you looked after her, he didn’t have a text to inform him of a tantrum she had. “I need to thank you” He whispered, his attention solely remaining on his hands, picking at the skin nervously. You didn’t respond, instead you watched him. Watched as the slow creep of blush bloomed upon his cheeks under your gaze. His eyes flicking to the side and back to you. Leon always oozes confidence, never once showing you the person behind the front. Now his daughter wasn’t here…he didn’t have to pretend he was strong. That he didn’t need validation of his efforts in her life. 

“You’re a good dad, Leon. The best I’ve seen” You spoke softly. He jumped as your hand slid into his, squeezing it gently.

 “You think so?” 

When he turned to look at you, you finally broke. His eyes were soft  as if he couldn't believe the words you spoke, the small praises that left your lips. It was foreign to him. He gasped when your lips pressed against his, his hands instantly pulling you onto his lap holding you tightly. “I know so” You whispered when you pulled away, your foreheads touching. The longer you sat on him like this, relishing in the feel of his hands – his cock hardened. He couldn’t help it, not when your lips learned his quickly already tugging on the bottom one with your teeth. The harder he got, the more greedy he became. 

Leon’s tongue ran along the bottom of your lips, prodding gently between them demanding access before slipping in. He whimpered as you moved, the subtle attempt at getting closer dragging along his throbbing dick. You heard his breaths as you pulled away, your hands slipping underneath your shirt. Dragging the fabric above your head slowly. “Fucking hell” He groaned, his hands already moving up your waist. You moaned as his lips attacked your sides, kissing and biting his way along them. You threw your head back, breathing heavily at his affection. Each pinch of pain adds to your now throbbing core. 

The more he tasted, the more he wanted. You didn’t care how he pulled you to the side, manoeuvring you so he was above. You watched his abs clench as he pulled his shirt off, you were sure he was flexing them but you weren’t one to judge. Not when he was so pretty like this and it wasn’t because of the stars that projected over his skin. “That thing is so bright” He laughed, lowering his head to nip at the nape of your neck, sucking softly at the skin, whilst he hid away from the projector. “I mean it’s sort of romantic, we are under the stars I guess” 

It was only fitting that as he removed your final layers you were both enclosed in the fort, that this little moment was for the both of you and not the outside world. He wouldn’t let his horrors taint you or Marie. Not in this apartment. His mouth attached itself to your pussy, his tongue working on thick stripes between your folds. Leon needed to worship you, to taste the sweetness you allowed him too. No amount of orgasms he could give you would even make up the slow burn of this moment. Of all the time you listened to both him and his daughter crying down the phone offering only your kindness. 

He nipped at your sensitive bud, sucking the whines out of your body. He loved the way your thighs squeezed around his head, muffling his senses. His hands pried your thighs apart, keeping you open for him as he continued his assault. “Don’t close up on me now” He mumbled against your lips, each breath cooling the arousal and saliva that collected on your skin. 

Leon got lost in you, the taste, feel, scent of you. Nothing else mattered. It wasn’t fair you couldn’t please him; give him the pleasure and relaxation he needed. Leon wasn’t sure he was going to be able to look you in the eyes and take your love, the pleasure and attention he needed from someone that wasn’t his little girl or his friends. For now he allowed himself to get drunk on the taste of you. 

Your hands tugged at his brown hair, pulling him closer to your core. You could feel his breaths against your skin, sucking in harshly against your twitching clit. “Leon-” 

He moaned at the plea of his name, wanting to draw it from you again and again. He worked harder, his tongue prodding against your entrance entering you briefly before continuing its sloppy attack on your clit. He could feel you buck against this face, your thighs shaking as they tried to close around him. He needed to give this to you, to allow you one orgasm before his own. It had been so long since he experienced this, the love was suffocating, making him dizzy. He wasn’t sure how long he would last when he was finally able to sink into you. 

Leon smirked as he felt your body relax and slump against the bed. It was only then he lifted away from you, spit and arousal coating his puffy lips. His eyes were hazy as they stared down at your form. You watched his cock twitch above you in the dim light, the heat you were both creating causing a light layer of sweat to form over the two of you. When you finally met his eyes again you smiled, so sweetly at him he felt his arms buckle. “I want you Leon…I want to be a part of your life, this home…please” You begged. 

It was different than anything he wanted, you weren’t begging for the pleasure he could give you but instead for the love. The stability of a family. You were begging to intricate yourself in this home, in their life deeper than you already have. Who was he to deny you? Leon didn’t respond when he hitched your thighs on his, aiming his leaking tip towards your entrance. You felt his fingertips run along your hips, his eyes watching for your approval. “I want you to be too” He groaned as his tip notched at your entrance. 

Your eyes flicked down waiting to watch as he sunk himself deep inside of you, but he didn’t move. Leon’s eyes were shut tights, his breaths coming out short and sweet as he felt your entrance twitch around his hip. Your intense gaze begging for him to move silently. Instead, once he had collected himself he moved. Sliding his cock throughout your folds, the tip making its appearance before sliding back out of view. You felt every one of his veins then ran along the underside of his dick, his pre-cum smearing with the arousal that dripped out of you. 

Leon smirked as he watched you whimper each time he pressed himself against your clit. The sharp bolts of pleasure had you arching into him, wriggling in an attempt to notch himself inside you. Just like the both of you needed. To your credit it worked, his lubricated cock slid in with ease, a moan of his filling the tent. It was loud, of course he was going to be loud…it had been so long since he felt this. Poor guy was so selfless. 

Your breath hitched as you stretched to accommodate his size. He filled you perfectly. There was no stopping him, not when he felt you like this. Not when he sunk so perfectly in your warmth, your body doing nothing but love him back. Your body arched into him, your hips angled perfectly to add the friction you needed from his happy trail. His arms flexed next to your head as he hovered above you further. You hadn’t expected him to be so vocal, to be so demanding with your pleasure before his. 

“Fuck-” He grunted, the restraint snapping as he craved more, craved to be deeper. To bury himself to the hilt inside you. You didn’t object, you wouldn’t - not when it felt so fucking good. The wet sounds of your pussy and his low grunts filled your ears. It was too much, you lost yourself in the sounds, drooling and begging for more. His hips snapped harder, his hand grasping as the sheets near your head. You were suffocated in the feel of him, the scent that lingers the duvet beneath you, his lips that dragged across your breasts. 

“Come on, you’re so close for me baby…I can feel it” He begged. “Please…baby…” 

He felt his balls tighten, he was too close…far too close. He wanted the release, to feel his cum spill inside of you but it’s been so long. So long since he’s felt this, buried his cock in something that wasn’t a cheap flesh light or his lubed hand. You whined when he stopped moving, instead sat his cock so far inside you. It now twitched as your walls clenched around him, his eyes screwing shut as he willed his orgasm away for just a little longer. Edging himself like he’s done many times before. 

Leon’s grip was tight on your hips as you attempted to writhe against him, to draw the pleasure that was fading away back. “Stop…I don’t want to cum yet” He grunted, his grip was bruising as he desperately commanded you to stop. “Leon – Please..I was so close” 

“I know…christ woman be patient please” 

You waited, your hips stilled but the whimpers still escaped your lips. His fingers toyed with your clit, pulling the hood back to expose the erect nerve. Your whimpers turned into moans, your hands grasping at his wrist leaving small crescent marks as you dug them “Please…yes…” You begged as he continued his assault. Your walls clenched around his stiff length that was still buried inside you, stuffed so far inside it made your eyes water. He didn’t stop the squirm of your hips, not when they loosely circled around his cock. Giving him some form of pleasure as he throbbed inside of you. 

He knew you were close, the volume now being replaced with breathless whimpers. “Come on baby…I know you’re there” He mumbled against the skin of your breast. His teeth tugging and sucking on the peaked buds, devouring the flesh as you pressed it further into his mouth. The pleasure was searing hot throughout your system, your brain lingering on the edge of too much and not enough. You needed him to pump everything he could inside you, to feel his cock drag in and out of your walls in a desperate speed. 

“Leon please…move…There’s going to be more times we can do this” 

You were right, he knew you were but it didn’t stop him from wanting to take his time. To worship you at the same time he got to sink himself into you. He knew a few thrusts is all it would take to send him over the edge, his pleasure too close to guarantee the feeling of yours first. “No baby…you can do it like this, I’m filling you up nice” He groaned, his lips detaching themselves from your swollen nipple. His attention already moved to your other one whilst his finger flicked and circled around your sensitive buds. “Leon–” 

He ignored you, his hips never moving. His cock twitching inside you, his fingers and tongue working on your nerves was all you were going to get. Leon eventually smiled when he started to feel your body tighten up around him. Your thighs twitching over his, hips grinding against him no matter how hard he tries to stop it. With a whine you came, gushing around his cock as it twitched painful like it was begging for him to finally move. 

Leon whimpered as he began to drag his cock out of your walls fucking you to overstimulation. His head falling into the crevice of your neck kissing the soft skin of your collarbone. “Fuck…you are so good” He whined. He focused on himself, his balls tightening, preparing to release himself deep inside of you for the first time. “I love you Leon” You breathed against his hair, kissing the crown of his head. His thrust was sharp as he finally spilled himself inside of you. You smiled at the warmth it gave off, the feeling of him filling you. 

Leon didn’t move away, he remained where he was, in this small bubble of safety – comfort – love. 

“I love you too” He mumbled against your skin. With a small tug on his hair he lifted his head. The kiss you shared was nothing short of perfection, the unspoken words you both had to say pouring into it softly. Not like before. The two of you settled, exhaustion lingering as you watched the stars move around on the blankets. The silence felt right, his heart beating steadily lulled you to sleep. He pulled one of the many blankets around the two of you, holding you close as the tiredness crept in for him as well. 

The sound of giggles awoke you, the soft music filling the room. You spotted his shirt next to you, folded neatly with a clean pair of his boxers placed on top. The blanket closed, giving you the privacy you needed to change. As you pulled back the blanket you faltered observing the scene in front of you. Marie was propped against his hip, her head tucked against his shoulder as the scent of bacon welcomed you. Soft rock filtered around the kitchen, different to the usual disney songs. “Morning” You greeted him, your hand encircling his waist on the other side. He jolted at your touch, still not used to someone other than his daughter wanting to be close. 

His unease faded as he smiled, brighter than any you have seen in the years you have known him. This is what he wanted, what he needed. You smelled of him, the slight musk that lingered on his shirt permating your skin. You looked adorable, comfortable, happy. 

“We were just making you breakfast, someone was excited to see you stayed the night” He laughed. Adjusting Marie on his hip as he tried to prepare the breakfast. “Lucky me” You spoke, holding your hands out for his daughter. The small girl smiled, happily moving from Leon to you. Her arms wrapped tightly around your neck as you both watched him finish off. You truly did belong here. 

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

girl dad geto

the moment you and geto found out that your first baby is a girl, geto was more proactive than you in picking out all the baby items - all pastel colored in pretty girly colors like pink, peach, purple, etc.

and the nursery room - goodness, it was like a strategic battle planning as he was standing in the doorway, holding different pastel colored strips, picking out what will be the prettiest one for his baby girl.

"she won't even see them," you said as you caressed your swollen belly, "their eyesight can only recognize black or white."

but he wouldn't listen, instead, he kissed your temple lovingly and ushered you out of the nursery room.

"you go worry about getting a lot of rest. go watch your favorite series, i'll bring you to the spa later after i pick a color," he said while making sure you get to the living room safely, putting a cashmere blanket over your thighs after he placed your swollen legs on top of an ottoman, "just relax and be your beautiful self there, okay?"

you shook your head in defeat, smiling thoughtfully on your doting husband, "fine. just don't go overboard," but you already knew that he definitely will go overboard.

and when she was born, geto was over the moon, couldn't take his eyes off your tiny newborn with a proud, thoughtful smile on his lips, humming a soft nursery rhyme that he deliberately learned while you were pregnant.

on her first birthday, geto made sure that everything is complete - balloons, three-layered cake, food, design (which he did on his own, refusing your help even if you insisted hard), everything. it was beautiful and your toddler enjoyed the mascots dancing, family, friends and kids playing around her, cooing and making her laugh.

and when she wanted to learn how to dance ballet, geto was there, learning everything as he watched every session, ignoring the other moms who dared flirt with him by simply putting up your wedding ring on his finger with a polite smile.

at home, he would practice - yes, practice with your daughter to prepare for the upcoming recital, calming her nerves, telling her that she is the prettiest ballerina princess in her class. and he is the proudest dad during the day of recital, making sure that your daughter sees where you are both seated, and made sure it was all caught on video.

when your daughter turned ten, she became curious about make-up. guess who she practiced her skills on - of course her papa. you arrived from work, expecting to find your two favorite people lounging in the pool area, instead you find them in your daughter's princess room - geto's long hair in french-braid, face painted with thick make-up and uneven eyeliners on his eyelids.

"this is not what i imagined you guys would be doing," you tried to stifle a laugh and geto just looked at you with a resigned smile, shrugging as if he doesn't look ridiculous.

"as long as my princess is happy," he simply said, while your daughter scolds him for moving too much.

after the very long day, you and geto sat on the living room, his arms around you while you nestled on his side, your hands splayed on his torso.

"do you think she is happy?" he said in deep thought

you looked at him lovingly, thinking how you got lucky for marrying a husband like geto suguru who is handsome, hot-rocking body, hardworking, doting, loving and totally girl-dad coded. then you kissed his jaw and rested on head on his chest, "baby, i think our girl is the happiest for having you as her dad and i am the luckiest for marrying a husband like you. thank you for everything that you do for our family."

he hummed softly and kissed your temple, needing to hear what you just said. comfortable silence filled the air as you just sat there, relaxing in each other's presence.

then, he asked, "so how do you make those moist cookies again? she wanted to bring some for her slumber party in three days."

you chuckled and hugged him tighter, "don't worry, i'll teach you tomorrow."