#be sure to hit those like and subscribe buttons

[ashykneecaps6]

Yuichi on the hunt

CW : BLOOD.

You guys think the big guy put up much of a fight? :]

FUN FACT : The bounties only need one piece of proof for the kill, so it's understandable he'd take the hand because of the identifying tattoo !!!

[edenspoem]

requesting fluffy period sex with Jackson Ellie!!

i’ve been thinking about this for ages lol but just imagine Ellie hearing that orgasms can help period cramps, maybe she randomly reads it in an old trashy magazine or she overhears two other girls talking about it while in town. anyway, she wants to help her gf of course, wants to make you feel better. you’re apprehensive at first and a little shy/embarrassed but Ellie’s like “do u really think i care about a little blood?” because obviously that girl does NOT care abt blood. maybe she even likes it a little…

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. ★

note from author: you know i will use any excuse to write jackson!ellie + period sex. especially fluffy sex. with a hint of freak. make sure to hit that like button and subscribe. for more gay sex. drabble length. wrote this in a day (and on my period) so excuse the simpler style. oral + fingering (if you have a problem, keep it to yourself. nobody gaf). not a lot of plot. 18+ interactions please. mdni. wc: 1k. join the discord!

To think, that you were brought a dream.

In the hands of a girl.

You must be blacking in and out. It rushes over your skin: the exhilaration, the sensation, the indent of fingers squeezing your bra-padded breasts, the sweat sticking to her lilac bedsheets. She traverses you like written text. Wrists, shoulders, hips, thighs, the beginnings to a place you feel the need to hide. When the shape of her head intrudes itself there, her intrepid fingers—they follow, and spread the pages for a translation tender and filling. Something she can't put down; you scoot your hips away, and she pulls you right back in.

She reads you.

You feel sedate lengths of softness tread through the channels under your abdomen, where it cramps—and the pain fleets. You forget all about it, until a finger eases inside, and you yelp with all the breath hitched in your throat. “Wait, Ellie!” You shut the heart of your thighs, enclosing her wrist. The ever-so soft junction.

She cocks her head. “What's the matter, babe?”

“You'll get blood on your fingers.”

She read about it in a grayed-out, faded Cosmo; it roped in the young generations, for generations, concerning them with relationships and the sex life of women—menstruation. It fucking sucks, but it sure doesn't have to; she can soothe you right here on the bed you're burrowed up in.

The Jackson local library has an answer for everything.

Ellie promised that after a serenade on her guitar, a hundred kisses, and a whisper of strawberry wine, she would help you out. Tongue and hands.

The practiced grooves on her face snap when she laughs, and she slides up your crotch to have a more face-to-face, respectable consolation. Don't get her wrong: muzzling something incoherent into the plush of your thighs is exciting—and it lets those embarrassing, inhibition-numbing sentiments trickle out until she gets as red as her hair—but she wants you to hear her this time. Cold fingertips melt into your waist.

Your skin is on fire.

“Do you really think I care about a little blood?” She questions, with a voice cornered and hoarse and teasing, tracing mindless circles into your belly. Your reason isn't reason enough to Ellie, it seems.

You glance around for something to convice her. “Well—I don't want to get blood on..”

Ellie disregards you with a head shake and reburies her shoulders under the open perspective of you. Arms entangle you again. “Mh-mm, don't worry about that.” And she, being clever with her peach lips, kisses you here, there, in those self-same distracting places that make you trance out and miss a couple beats, then tense up when she invites her tongue, slips it down and..

Die. For a breath.

Strands of her hair crumple under your grip. Catch under your fingernails.

“Fuck, right there.. right there, Ellie.”

It felt more alight than usual; thick, hot, catalytic presses with her tongue pushing your folds and pinching that bud of nerves—you almost tug her down harder. She can tell you wanted to. It elicits an affirming, quickened pace of her tongue and squeeze of your thighs. Her eyes are fluttered shut, and she looks like a quiet, satisfied heaven.

Her thumb enters below her mouth.

She pulls back—like a vampiric portrait—and cleans her lips, and you bear down for it to return. The thumb inside stills you with a slow pumping.

“See, babe?”

Ellie slides out that thumb. Sucks it, lips pulling over the tip, for you. Humming at your taste like she's about to come herself.

“I don't care. I fuckin' love it.”

Not a second ticks, where you get to process the overwhelming tingle up your nape—or the numbing sound of your heart pounding, and Ellie is already stuffing her face right where it was. She takes you without question. Spreading your thighs apart, she lines up her wet tongue with your wetter entrance and laps your clit, making the swollen bud catch, drag and flick into place: an addicting loop. It feels so perfect against her heart-shaped mouth. Soon, you forget that cramps were the thing that initiated this and delight pours from your throat.

You catch her groping herself to the sound.

She managed a clean job. Blood stains the swell of her chin, to the tip of her nose in lithe blotches, but you knew that would happen. Of course, with her pressing her entire mouth against your hole to wag her face in your mess—you had laughed through a moan when she did—who could guess differently?

It's Ellie: so, of course.

She was smiling when your cries of release came crashing. You shuddered, rode it out on her mouth, and the corner of her lips just curled into your heat.

Fucking idiot.

When you glance down, the little ligatures of humiliation poke at you again; you begin to close your legs. But the indents on your hips from her hold grow deeper. It inches you back open.

She steals the opportuinity to slot herself in that space.

Ellie swipes hair from your face with the backs of her fingers, lingering. “You did so fuckin' good, babe. That's all you needed, huh? I know, I know. You can thank me later,” she boasts. But all you can focus on is her jean-covered thigh against you.

Quiet as the room, you gasp, but it still prompts her to look in the same spot and nudge off you.

She scoffs. “Psh—it'll come right out. Nothin' to sweat over.”

She is too nonchalant for your heart.

You shift in your pool of sudation, rolling out little grunts. Her touch coheres your movements. “Where did you even learn this from?”

“Uh,” she sounds, gaping open mouth. Ellie would nick herself in the knee if you figured how devoted to you she is in passing time. It takes up more than that, if were being honest. She feels better when you perceive her as your genius and generous girlfriend—so she'll keep it that way. “Just, kinda.. thought that I should do it. Yeah.”

You would refute if you were half as awake as you were before Ellie sapped your whole stamina bank out. Thanks, babe.

“Totally.”

“Mhm, I'm the best.” Sarcasm manages to seep through regardless, even when she tries. You laugh at it.

Ellie blacked out within the hour—before you could—sound asleep in the repository your sprawling lap provides, halfway down the bed in an entanglement. You followed in syrup-like tandem—but not without your fingers in her scalp, and a whisper of words. Sleep fought you for this moment.

“You're the best, idiot.”

[miabbh]

The Bet 🎮

Live Streamer!Baekhyun x reader

Synopsis: Joining Baekhyun's live-streams was just a coincidence, but it quickluy became a tradition to friday nights. You grew closer at each session and the constant teasing and back and forth were, together with good gameplay, what kept the chat going. Tonight, however, a bet: whoever of the two lost would have to kneel for the other. And perhaps in both meanings.

Genre: a tiny bit of comedy and playfull banter, friends to lovers, semi-explicit! (Implicit oral sex – fem!receiving)

a gift to @baekhyunsbestie

You weren't sure how it had come to this—streaming regularly with Baekhyun, sharing late-night gaming sessions that stretched until dawn, even meeting up for coffee and arcade sessions when time allowed.

It all started with that one game where you, just a regular viewer back then, joined his lobby on a whim and ended up taking him by surprise with your skills.

Since that night, he'd insisted on playing with you more often, and his viewers couldn't get enough of your dynamic.

You still remember those early streams, the way your voice trembled as you spoke, heart pounding every time he said your name. But week after week, you grew bolder. It helped that Baekhyun was just as supportive off-stream as he was playful on-screen, sending you gifts—new gear, accessories, even a figure of your favourite character—as "thank-yous" for the hours you put into streaming together.

And when you finally gave in to his fans' demands to start your own channel, things quickly escalated. The teasing had become something of a tradition, and now, with your face on camera, it added a whole new layer to the back-and-forth.

Tonight was no different. You settled into your chair, slipped on your headset, and adjusted the pillows behind your back before taking a sip of water. A familiar thrill coursed through you as you hit the "Go Live" button.

Baekhyun's voice greeted you as soon as you entered the voice chat, casual but edged with a challenge.

"Ah, there you are! I was starting to think you were too scared to show up." he teased.

The moment he spoke, your chat buzzed with activity.

[Chat]

dorimo63: it's going down tonight

daniudean: Baekhyun sounds cocky as always

inautop: betting 20 she wins. hes overdue for some humility

His smirk practically radiated through the screen, an insufferable yet irresistible look that made something in your chest tighten. And then there was the hair—dark, tousled curls that were new, different. You blinked, momentarily distracted.

"Scared?" you shot back, recovering quickly. "Of what—letting you lose again?" You paused, letting your gaze flick over his disheveled hair and black t-shirt, a teasing grin curling your lips. "Got a whole new look just to kneel for me?"

Baekhyun chuckled, his fingers tapping on his mouse.

"Someone sounds confident tonight. Did you finally get some practice in?" He glanced at his second monitor, where chat comments were flying by. 'Or did you spend all your time thinking up what to say when you’re on your knees?"

He reads a donation out loud.

[Donation Notification: 15 from peteisbetter]

baekhyunie prepare to kneel. we all know shes got you beat

"Got me beat? Oh chat, I thought you loved me!"

You rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh.

"Oh, please. They're just worried about your knees, Baek. I don’t think they've bent for anyone in a while."

The subscribe alerts appears on your screen; the chat picking up on the tension like a spark to dry tinder.

someonion4: OMG DID SHE JUST SAY THAT?!

mistahneg: OUR QUEEN DOESN'T HOLD BACK

lunatishroom: are they flirting already

someonion4: @lunatishroom they are

Baekhyun's grin widened, his tone dropping lower as he leaned closer to his mic.

"You'd be surprised how flexible I can be. But I guess you'll need to work hard to find out."

There was a hint of something darker behind his playful tone, a glint in his eyes that made your breath hitch.

Heat flushed your cheeks at the innuendo, and you quickly cleared your throat, praying the mic didn’t catch the change in your breathing.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." you said, voice steady despite the racing of your pulse. "I'll make sure you have plenty of time to think about what went wrong while you’re down there."

His eyes drifted back to the game screen, and he hummed, almost as if you’d piqued his curiosity.

"I like it when you talk tough. It's cute.'

The game loaded, and you both focused on the first match, fingers flying over the keys as the tension built. The rounds were close, but you could already predict his moves, that aggressive style you'd come to know so well. He always pushed too far, always assumed you’d fall for his tricks.

It was all about patience, waiting for that moment when he'd leave himself vulnerable. It was his downfall before, and it would be again if you timed your moves right.

Your viewers could sense the shift in the air, the tension mounting as you traded kills and comebacks. The chat erupted after each close call, donations rolling in with messages that only added to the pressure.

At the end of the round, you grabbed your water bottle quickly, looking at the comments during the 10 second countdown.

inautop: that last shot was insane!

dalidalidoo: if he loses, I'm clipping his reaction

someonion4: Baekhyun's sweating, I can see it

You smirk.

"He's sweating already?" You ask to chat, but obviously he heard.

"Who's sweating?" You hear him ask. "Certainly not me. I'm not going to give that pleasure of a view to so many people…" he pauses. "My skin is hydrated, chat, it's not sweat."

[cutepuppy05 subscribed for 4 months]

he says that but he's been sweating since he started the live and went to play with Channie. you got him nervous, you are at an advantage

The rounds flew by, each one bringing you closer to the final score.

You could hear Baekhyun's breaths on the mic, steady but quickening, and it felt almost as if he were sitting right there with you—so close you could feel the heat from his body. The tension wasn't just about the game anymore; it was a thread pulled tight between the two of you, with every playful taunt and low laugh sending a spark up your spine.

You've been physically close a few times. For some reason, there really is this thing where some people just emanate significant heat despite being still. And the times you were by Baekhyun's side, warmth radiated from him, along with the mature perfume he wore. And when you still managed to carry that scent home, you spent a little more time with your coat on.

Imagining him, by your side, playing with you in such a frenetic way made something to you.

You almost lost, the screen corners in red as you came back to reality. You had the special attack available and you just used it.

You managed to catch him overextending, the same mistake he always made. With a precise shot, the victory flashed across your screen. You grinned, unable to hold back the satisfaction in your voice.

"Looks like someone is getting on his kneeeesss~!"

The chat exploded as you exit the game and opened the discord call.

Baekhyun groaned. You could see him leaning back in his chair and dragging a hand through his hair.

"Alright, alright." he conceded, a playful grin curling at his lips. "You win. A deal's a deal. Are you seeing me?"

"Yes! Go ahead!"

With exaggerated slowness, he pushed his chair back. He pulled his shorts up a little and dropped to one knee, his gaze fixed on the camera as if staring straight at you through the screen.

"What is your command, oh victorious one?"

His tone sent a shiver through you, a reminder that even when he lost, he somehow still held the upper hand in the way he made you feel.

You were momentarily at a loss for words, the sight of him kneeling before you—not just in the screen, but almost in the intimacy of your shared space—catching you off guard.

"I think you owe me a meal." you managed to say, though your voice sounded softer than you intended. "Next time we meet, you're treating."

Baekhyun's eyes flicked to the chat, his smile widening.

"That's all? I was expecting something more… demanding." The way he said the last word, voice dipping low, made your skin flush.

[Donation Notification: 4.99 from someonion4]

damn Baekhyun on his knees???? looks like someones living out their wildest dreams tonight! 😂👀 You got him, queen

You cleared your throat, forcing a steady reply despite the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Oh, don't worry, Baek. I'll save the real demands for when you're actually at my feet."

The chat lost it.

marihop: OMG SHE WENT THERE

snwmoveme: baekhyun's face is priceless

smarterbb: this is the best stream ever

He let out a laugh, rising to his feet with an amused glint in his eyes.

"I guess I'll just have to win the rematch, then." he said, his gaze lingering on the camera a beat longer before shifting back to the game. "And when I do, you better be ready to keep your promises."

You could hear the playful threat in his tone, and it sent a thrill through you.

"We'll see, Baekhyun. We’ll see."

The conversation drifted back to safer topics, but the electric undercurrent between you lingered. As you logged off and the live stream ended, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen the next time you saw him—when there were no cameras, no chat, just the two of you, and all the things left unsaid.

The silence that settled between you after the stream felt different, more intimate. Without the buzz of the chat and the flood of notifications, there was just the two of you and the quiet, steady sound of his breathing on the other end.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, his voice softer now, like he was speaking just for you.

"Huh?" You blinked, glancing up at the screen. He was looking at you with that calm expression, his beautiful perm hair still slightly tousled from the last few hours, eyes warm with the lingering glow of your victory.

He chuckled, the sound low and easy.

"You know… food. I could pick something up. It's kind of late, but I'm sure I can find a place that's still open. It's not the dinner. Or lunch. Whatever you want. I'm just hungry, you must be too.'

Your stomach growled at the thought of food. It would even be nice to eat anything.

The idea was tempting—him showing up with takeout, eating together... The thought of seeing him in person again, especially after that charged bet, sent a thrill through you. But you know you wouldn't hold back if you see him now.

"You don’t have to…" you started, but the words died on your lips. Your heart wins pretty often. Biting your lower lip, a suggestion spilled out. "Or… you could come over. We could eat together, if you want."

There was a beat of silence, then you saw his lips twitch into a small smile, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

"Are you inviting me to your place, sweetheart?" He dragged out your name in that playful tone he used whenever he was trying to get a rise out of you.

You felt your cheeks warm, but there was no point in backing down now.

“I mean, I did win tonight." you said with a little tilt to your head. "It's only fair you deliver my victory dinner in person, right?"

Baekhyun let out a breathy laugh.

"Fair enough." He leaned closer to the screen, his eyes darkening with something unspoken. 'Send me your adress, I know the building but I don't wanna ring on someone else's door."

You nodded, your heart picking up speed as you sent him the directions.

"Be careful, a few of my neighbours watch your live streams."

"Uhhhh! Fans?"

"Viewers."

"Yeah, yeah! See you soon!"

When you finally ended the call, the reality of what you'd just invited him to do sank in. You glanced around your apartment, quickly tidying up, your mind racing with anticipation and a slight twinge of nerves.

It wasn't the first time you'd hung out with him in person, but something about tonight felt different. Maybe it was the bet. Maybe it was the way his voice dropped when he accepted your invitation. Whatever it was, you couldn't ignore the spark that had been growing between you for weeks.

But it was about the bet. You can't lie. Kneeling down always had the second intention on your mind. And seeing him and hearing him today made something to you. You were weak this last few days…

Twenty minutes later, there was a message, telling you he arrived. You opened the building's door, and soon after you heard a knock at your door. You opened it to find Baekhyun standing there, a bag of takeout in one hand and that same amused, knowing look in his brown eyes.

"Victory delivery, as requested." he said, his voice carrying a touch of humor. "I bought a little bit of everything of side dishes, there was only one dose of ramen by this hour so I need to compensate."

You smiled soflty, noticing him. A ladder jacket, the black t-shirt and that white pants he wore the first time you joined his lobby, replacing the short from earlier. Damn.

He stepped inside as you moved to the side, glancing around your place as he slipped off his shoes.

"Nice setup you've got here."

"Thanks." you replied, shutting the door behind him. Your voice got a bit more quiet. Maybe it was a bit too much…

The air between you felt charged, even as you made small talk while setting out the food. He took off his jacket, strong arms in contrast to the black t-shirt.

It was as if the bet hadn't really ended, just shifted into another form—one with softer words, quieter looks, but no less intense.

You took a seat on the couch after picking a few drinks from the fridge, with Baekhyun settling in beside you. He began opening the paper bags, his features more serious than usual, illuminated by the light from the TV and the lamps that you used to leave on so as not to leave the apartment completely dark. The silence was heavy and thick with the kind of tension you'd been dancing around for months.

You turned your head slightly to find him already looking at you, his gaze tracing the curve of your face, lingering on your lips.

"You know…" he said softly, setting the food boxes on the coffee table. "I don't think I've ever thought we would be here. Especially because I asked for a bet... honestly, I've never been so... happy about losing either."

You felt your breath catch.

"Yeah?" you replied, your voice coming out quieter than you intended.

He nods, still looking into your face. You couldn't look away either, even if you wanted to. Your mouth betrayed you again.

"So, you don't mind kneeling to me again?"

His smile was slow, his eyes dark as he leaned in closer, his hand grabbing one another as if to contain himself.

"You want to see me on my knees so bad?" he asked, his hoarse. "For you?" He steps out of the couch, kneeling in front of you.

Your eyes wide and you swallow dry.

The space between you seemed to disappear, and before you knew it, his hands were on your tights, just above the knee. A shiver runned down your spine.

"Baekhyun…" and he lifted himself, his lips brushed against yours, a soft, tentative touch that sparked into something more.

You closed the distance, pressing deeper into the kiss, and felt his hand slide up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as he tilted your head slightly to deepen the connection.

Your own hands moved to his head, holding it, your thumbs tapping where his jaw meets his cheeks. His lips were much better than you ever thought: soft, a bit swollen, so, so truly kissable.

The kiss was a slow burn, a mix of months of flirtation and nights spent just inches from where you were now. When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless, the tension that had been simmering between you finally spilling over.

"You know…" he murmured, his hands again playing with your skin, fingertips tracing a line along your arm, sending shivers down your spine. "If you let me… really get on my knees for you…"

The way he said it—low, teasing, but with an undercurrent of heat—sent a rush of warmth through your entire body, settling deep between your legs. You gasped softly, caught off guard by the intensity of it, your breath hitching as you locked eyes with him. His gaze was dark, his expression far more serious than the playful tone of his voice suggested.

He wasn't joking.

The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with tension. You could feel the steady thrum of your pulse in your ears, your body responding to the unspoken invitation in his words. You swallowed, unsure whether to laugh off his comment or let it hang between you, tempting you further.

Baekhyun's fingers slid down to your wrist, brushing over your pulse point before his hand slipped lower, gently resting on your thigh. His touch was light but deliberate, testing the waters, waiting to see how you'd respond. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he whispered.

"I've been thinking about it for a while now, you know? Losing to you. Kneeling for you." His lips brushed your ear, and your whole body tensed, anticipation tightening your chest. "I probably wouldn't have had the balls to ask you this if I had won."

You couldn't deny the pull between you anymore, the way it had been growing with every game, every late-night conversation. What had started as teasing had evolved into something deeper, more intense. You had felt it the moment he walked into your apartment tonight—the way his eyes lingered a little longer, the way his voice dropped when he spoke just for you.

"Baek" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. You weren't sure what you were asking him for—for him to stop, to go on, to push you further into this moment.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering just over yours, his hand tightening on your thigh.

"Just say the word." he murmured, his breath ghosting over your mouth. "And I'll do it."

Your heart raced, the warmth between your legs now a steady ache, and you found yourself leaning into him, closing the last sliver of space between you. Your lips brushed against his, hesitant at first, but then he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding higher on your thigh, fingers grazing the hem of your shirt.

The kiss turned urgent, your hands finding his shoulders, pulling him closer as the tension that had been building for so long finally snapped. His fingers slipped under your shirt, warm against your skin, and you gasped into his mouth, pressing your body against his.

Baekhyun groaned softly, breaking the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath ragged.

"Tell me to stop if we're crossing a line you don't want to be crossed." he whispered, his voice strained, his hand stilling on your waist. But the way his lips hovered near yours, the way his body pressed against you, made it clear he didn't want to keep this as they were.

Neither do you.

Instead, you cupped his face, guiding him back to you, your lips crashing against his with a hunger that mirrored his own. His hands moved with purpose now, sliding under your shirt, pulling you closer until you were practically straddling him. The weight of his body beneath yours, the feel of his hands roaming over your skin, sent waves of heat through you, every nerve alight with sensation.

Baekhyun's lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer to the edge of the couch. The soft moan that escaped your lips only seemed to spur him on, his fingers digging into your waist as his lips returned to yours, kissing you with a desperation that matched your own.

"I want to see you lose that control you always have." he whispered against your lips, his hands sliding under the waistband of your pants. His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting instinctively to the command in his voice, the heat of his touch.

You felt yourself sinking further into him, giving in to the moment as he shifted beneath you, his eyes dark with desire.

And as his fingers tightened their grip, pulling you closer, you realized that you didn't mind losing to him either—not like this, not tonight.

Your pants disappeared in an instant. The sound of denim sliding down your legs was the only thing you noticed before grabbing him by his brown hair and guiding him where you wanted him.

He chuckled, but then looked to where you guided him; the expression became almost ethereal—he licked his lips, exhaled exasperatedly, and his eyes nearly closed. Each sound more like a quiet groan, as though he was just barely holding back.

Baekhyun's tongue darted out to wet his lips, his chest rising and falling as his breath came quicker. His gaze swept back up to meet yours, and you saw the hunger there—raw and unrestrained, like he was teetering on the edge of something he could no longer control. The weight of his desire crashed over you, your own breath catching in your throat as heat pooled between your legs, leaving you with a yearning ache.

His hand slid up your thigh, trembling just slightly as his fingertips grazed your skin.

"God, you're…" he murmured, his voice trailing off, lost in the moment. It was as if words had failed him, the intensity of his reaction leaving him almost dazed. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if to steady himself, before his gaze locked onto yours again—this time filled with a fire that sent another wave of heat through you.

You gasped softly, the sound escaping before you could contain it, and his eyes flashed in response. The corner of his mouth curled into a slow, knowing smile, his hand tightening ever so slightly as if grounding himself.

"You like that?" he whispered, his voice dropping to a gravelly tone that made your pulse quicken. "The way I'm looking at you? To the most beautiful and mesmerizing and sexy creature I've ever seen, so comfortable for me?"

Your throat tightened as you struggled to find your voice, your skin prickling under the intensity of his stare. You didn't trust yourself to speak, so you nodded instead, the motion small and almost tentative. The way he looked at you made you feel bare and exposed, like he could see every inch of you, every hidden desire you’d tried to keep at bay.

His other hand trailed along your jaw, tilting your head up just enough to bring your lips closer again, teasingly.

"I'm not just going to look, you know. I've done it enough already." he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "I'm going to taste. Touch." He leaned in, and his next words were a low, heated promise. "And you're going to feel every bit of it, love it, and drown in pleasure because of me."

The anticipation made you tremble, your body already reacting to his touch. His hand slipped further up, pressing firmly against you in a way that drew a sharp, breathless moan from your throat.

He grinned, clearly pleased with the effect he had on you, his fingers moving with an agonizing slowness that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

"Don't tease." You say, holding his hair between your finger.

"I don't want to take too big a step." He replies quietly, but his head moves closer as you pull him.

"Strange. You're always the impatient one." you managed to say, your voice coming out as a breathy taunt as you shifted, one of your legs lifting and settling onto his left shoulder. The movement was deliberate, even yourself was surprised how natural it seemed.

His gaze flickered down to where your leg rested, then back up to your eyes, his smile turning wickedly playful.

"Maybe I'm savoring the moment." he murmured, his hand sliding up your thigh, fingers curling around the curve of your leg as he steadied you. "After all, there is only one first time." He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin, trailing a path up your inner thigh, the closeness of his lips making you shiver with anticipation.

His free hand moved to grip your hip, keeping you firmly in place as he tilted his head to brush his lips against the sensitive skin just above your knee, his gaze never leaving yours. The contrast of his gentleness and the intensity in his eyes sent a shudder through you, your pulse quickening with each teasing touch.

"Ah…" he murmured, voice roughened with desire "I could take my time. Make you beg for it." His lips brushed over your skin again, the heat of his breath making you gasp. He glanced up, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and hunger. "But you won, I need to give you what you want."

Your fingers threaded through his hair, urging him closer, your breaths coming quicker.

"Or maybe I want to see you take your time with me and try to keep it together." you shot back, a defiant smile curling your lips. The words seemed to ignite something in him, his grip tightening on your thigh.

"Careful what you wish for." he said, his tone dark and laced with promise. Then he dipped his head lower, and the slow burn of his touch quickly became a consuming flame. "I may be more patient than you think."

His tongue played with you softly, making a loud, wet sound. He took your right leg, placing it on his shoulder as he pulled you by the hip, burying his face in you like a starved man, kneeling down, on your living room, with those white pants hugging his thighs.

[lilyrayaya]

Hi I'm lilyray and this is my podcast and I'm gonna talk a small amount because I have no idea where else to talk about smilk

personal hc I had as to what smilk looked like before corruption before the official look was revealed

I think shadow milk with all his grandiose facade and mischief is really just driven by sheer hatred. For what ? Mortal cookies probably. Crk has given us hints on what he was like before but never a definite answer and from what I know he had followers and at some point started lying to those followers because he realised they'll just eat it up and accept it as their truth because ooohhh, Shadow Milk Cookie said so! Shadow Milk Cookie is the fount of knowledge! Oooohhh! And I don't think smilk was a big fan of that. Or rather the fact that they didn't seek out knowledge as he did but moreso just a fun story they can retell to others.

I think Shadow Milk is once a yapper always a yapper and he was always talking about the things he learned and while he found all the knowledge exciting and fun most of the things he would talk about bored his followers. So. Most never listened. Because his stories were just never enough for anyone to actually engage. So he started giving cookies what they want and making things up. At first those were subtle lies, where he'd just talk about unconfirmed theories as factual knowledge, but the more he saw that his cookies listened the more he made things up and that's what started his spiral into madness.

He blames mortal cookies for his imprisonment because he gave them what they wanted and this is how they repaid him. He sacrificed so much only for them to end up hating him in the end? That really isn't doing it for him.

Because of that he's also really envious of Pure Vanilla I feel because. Huh ? You're telling them the truth? And they still like you and want you around? He half pities half extremely envies him. Smilk both wants to ruin pv and make pv like himself so pv can see how lies are so much more entertaining. That loneliness bs isn't cutting it for me I'm sorry, like, yeah, sure, he would get a little lonely sometimes but for that to be the reason he turns pure vanilla into another being of deceit? Hell no.

Anyway. Hi thanks for watching remember to hit that like and subscribe button and click on the bell for more notifications

[koisuko]

Reader with an OF, but for mw husbands

*blush*

Tw: OF stuff, mdni, gn reader, OF is only fans for those confused, no use of y/n

Ft: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price

Simon “Ghost” Riley…

Is against it, 100%. This man has killed, blood on his hands in the name of war. He would be damned if he shared you with anyone. He’s possessive, broken and maybe a little insecure on the inside. He doesn’t want others even having the chance to look at you.

He’s definitely punishing you. He’d have your face buried into the bed, back arched so much it’s almost painful. His fingers gripping on a handful of your hair, tugging back to force your half lidded gaze up towards the ceiling. Ghost would watch from behind his skull mask. His deep brown eyes, burning with fury, stare into the screen of your phone. “Delete it,” he’d demand, “I want to see you do it.” He’d feel your walls clench around him, only to stop his thrusts abruptly. “I said,” his masked face lowered down to the shell of your ear, “delete it.” Any sign of hesitation would earn a swift spank to your backside. Youd whimper, tears of overstimulation prick at the corner of your eyes. Your shaky fingers would hit the delete button. Ghost would rub soothing circles over the now reddening skin of your ass, “good job, pet,” he’d praise.

Before you even ask, no, he’s not joining. No matter what you said or do, it’s a definite no. This man thrives in the mystery he creates around his identity. Plus, doing lewd acts for the pleasure of others seems so pointless in his mind.

John “Soap” MacTavish…

Is not against it, but not for it either. He’s a bit torn between whether he likes it, and whether he wants to be possessive. He definitely wouldn’t be as strict as Ghost. He’s more lenient about the idea of you doing only fans. If it’s something that pleases you, than go for it.

Yes, with enough convincing, he would join you. He’d even put his face in it, this man would probably smirk at the camera. He’d like to take some photos for you. Have you pose in the perfect positions, barely able to contain himself. Than after, he’d rip that lace covering your body and ravage you for hours.

Eventually though, you’d come across his insecurities in having you do this. He’s supportive sure, but he doesn’t entirely like the idea of having something so private shared with strangers. You’d sit down and have a talk, figure out what you two would like to do going forword. Eventually agreeing on leaving the app entirely.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick…

Is against it, lightly. He wants you to himself, and prefers if your body is kept private for just the two of you. He wants to worship your beauty, without the prying eyes of strangers. He’d support you, of course, if you truly only want this as a career. But he wouldn’t seem to want to stay if you aren’t willing to compromise.

No, he’s not joining you, at all. He won’t be the camera man either. Just the thought of it, you posed in lewd positions and sharing it to your subscribers, makes his skin crawl. His lips would form a frown, and he’d avoid the situation entirely. His mind would run wild with insecurities. He’d wonder why he isn’t good enough, and why you’d prefer others attention over his.

You love him, of course, so you’d delete it entirely. And to make up for it, you’d wear the lingerie. You’d pose for him, let him take photos for private moments at the base. A wild night sure to come shortly after.

John Price…

Is neutral on it. He doesn’t mind what you do for work, a paycheck is a paycheck. If you were to tell him how much money you make, his eyes would go wide with surprise. “Might need to make one of my own,” he’d jokingly say.

He’d be intrigued by the app when you’d explain how it works. He’d even offer a strategy to rack in more subscribers and money. If you are happy, so is he.

Yes, he’d join, but only on occasion. Even when he does, it’s only parts of him in the camera. He avoids showing his face entirely. He prefers to watch from the sidelines, smirking at your pretty little poses. When he does join, it’s mostly his lower body, his chest is preferred. He loves the photos of you sat, his cock sunken inside you, and your fingers tangled in the hairs of his chest. Or the photos from his angle, your face red and lips glossy while you fuck yourself on his tip.

[taelonsamada]

I practically went into a fugue state when writing this 🤣 it is fully unedited, all but vomited up, but @dawnofiight got this into my head and I had to get it onto paper as soon as I could 🤣 (paper being figurative in this case) I’m sorry if it feels a bit rushed or out of character, I just had to get it out!! So have livestreamer/blogger Sam on his homestead he lovingly tends with horror gamer Darlin 😁

~~~~~~~~~

“I’m particularly excited about this one, we just finished renovating the chicken coop, so now—Ah! George! Knock it off! Hey!”

Sam did a quick side step to dodge the goat head that had snaked out at his ankles, stopping in his tracks to point a warning finger at the brown and white beast that barely came past his knees. The two of them locked in a standoff with Sam’s work boots as the prize for the victor. Never mind that they were still on Sam’s damned feet, or that the entire thing was being captured by the phone currently in Sam’s hand, which was of course being livestreamed to the twenty thousand followers he’d managed to amass the last couple months.

Because that was absolutely Sam’s luck.

The stare down lasted a moment longer before ‘George’ decided the boots weren’t quite worth what the glint in Sam’s eyes meant, plodding off to likely find something else to chew on. Sam shook his head with a heavy sigh and a crooked grin, raking his fingers through his hair before resuming his walk. “I swear, I’d have made that bastard into a stew ages ago if he didn’t give his some of the best damned babies I’ve ever seen in my life. Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, this is the chicken coop we just finished redoing.”

Flipping the livestream to the front camera, Sam began panning the phone across the large chicken run he and Darlin’ had just finished yesterday, pride heavy in his voice. “It’s got twice the floorspace now, so they got a proper run they can explore while still havin’ a roof over their head, which’ll keep ‘em safe from the hawks and eagles. And we got this thick wood along the base to keep the coyotes from gettin’ too nosy as well. Still gotta watch for ‘em cause they’re tricky bastards, but at least we’re making their job harder on em.”

The phone turned a bit more, revealing Darlin’ crouched down inside the actual coop itself, cooing at some freshly hatched chicks as they changed out their feed and water. Their head popped up to smile and wave at Sam, who immediately waved back, a fond, warm look in his eyes. His chest aching with happiness at seeing how well they’d taken to the ‘homesteading’ life.

Knowing how drastic a change it was from the city life they were used to, the fact that they seemed to be thriving in the countryside with him only had him even more convinced he must have done something damned impressive in a previous life to be rewarded like this.

Of course, one could also argue he was equally punished for whatever he did whenever they asked him to join him on on of those horror games they would play on their own stream. Darlin’s fans loved it when he showed up, mainly because of all the cursing and yelling he’d let out during said games. He wasn’t sure what it was; horror movies were a delight for him, but there was just something about the games that had him sweating up a storm. His own subscribers also loved it when he joined in, though it was moreso to see a different side of him, since he was usually more reserved on his own channel.

That thought had him glancing to his phone to check on his livesteam, and he cursed as he saw his thumb had hit the camera flip button at some point while he was staring at Darlin’. The entire chat was losing its mind over the look he’d had on his face while he was watching Darlin’. Countless messages about being ‘moony-eyed’, ‘starstruck’, ‘down bad’ and ‘the ultimate simp’.

Instantly his face took on his usual stern, furrowed huff, shaking his head with a dramatic sigh. “Y’all are bigger fuckin’ animals than the ones I feed, I swear. Keep that up and I won’t show you Moonpie,” he warned, referring to the newly born calf that the chat demanded daily updates on. He smirked crookedly at seeing all the panicked gif reactions, pleas for forgiveness and accusations of being a bully. “Mm… lucky for y’all, Moonpie is a huge diva and loves the attention, so—Dammit, George!”

The camera swung wildly, dropping to show an angled view of the brown and white goat with his teeth locked around the tongue of Sam’s boot, tugging and yanking in an attempt to tear a hunk of the expensive leather free. “I swear, I’m cookin’ you tonight!”

[rainydayandmondays]

Thanksgiving Potluck

Summary: It’s time for the annual Thanksgiving potluck at work. Andy wants to make sure that he brings something special for you. You worked so hard, you deserve it.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, slight non-con

Author's Note: This came about after seeing a challenge to write a spicy Thanksgiving story. With the blessing of @georgiapeach30513 to use Andy Barber, this is what I got.

You had been planning the department’s Thanksgiving potluck for weeks. Running around, trying to get everyone to sign up to bring in something, even if it was just silverware and napkins. Andy never participated in these get-togethers. They were some weird kind of team building bullshit that he had never really subscribed to. Why play nice that one day, while all the remaining days everyone was trying to one up each other. Comparing their win-loss ratios like they were some goddamn a-list athletes. The fucking Red Sox, they were not.

But you had started earlier this year, right around Valentine’s day. He remembered your first day, you wore your pink button down shirt the first two buttons undone and your simple gold necklace nestled in the crux of your shirt. Your pencil skirt was knee-length but seemed to hug from your waist to your hips. He imagined his hands could skim down the sides of it as if it was a second skin. Then your sensible flats, all that up top and did you finish with three-inch heels? No, just sensible flats. The red nail polish on your fingers with a small heart decals on each ring finger, let him know that you enjoyed celebrating holidays.

He watched you as you grew into the department, quickly planting roots and befriending each person you met. You were easy to get along with, never really asked for much, but always willing to give. He had spent most of October working with you. You were assisting on the research for his latest case, spending nights in the conference room with law books spread out in front of the two of you and boxes of half-eaten Chinese in each of your laps. You had asked about his story as you took a break from the mind-numbing reading of passage after passage. He had given you the cliff-notes version. The “everything is pretty on the outside” story. Loving wife at home and kid excelling in school. It was easier that way. Even if he could tell you didn’t totally buy it, you let him lie.

You on the other hand, were open. Told him everything. You were a paralegal, barely starting out with dreams of making it to law school one day. A sick mother at home had meant your law school dreams had taken the back burner. Your mom had been part of the last of the baby boomers and their idealized version of marriage. She had taken care of the household, you and your dad. With her bedbound, your dad was completely lost. You took over and everything else had been pushed aside. No sign of any romantic partners or life outside of work and home. But the glint in your eye talking about becoming lawyer, let him know you had more to offer. You had told him how you had aced your LSATS, spent every night up until 4 in the morning studying for them. You were younger then, could handle the late nights. Shit, you are younger now. Just barely hitting your late 20s, if he had to guess.

After those nights spent over cold takeaway dinners and finishing the McDonald v. City of Newton case, he realized that family dinners with little more than polite conversation paled in contrast to those talks and stale fast food. He had tried to get you on his next case, but Neal had snatched you up the moment you were free. He remembered the apologetic look you gave him when he swung by your desk with some briefs to review.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. I’m already working with Mr. Longudice. But you can leave those here and I’ll look at them when I get a chance.” You fidgeted with your pen, twirling it between your fingers. It was your nervous tick, he had noticed it the first night when you had found a passage that completely derailed his current case plan.

He nodded and walked away, noticing Neal looking on from the corner smirking. Fuck him, he wasn’t going to just use you to improve his standing in the department. He watched as the month progressed and Neal worked you into the ground. He found you more and more frequently in the break room, loading up on coffee. You were up to four glasses a day. That couldn’t be good for you. Not if you still had to go home and get your mom ready for bed.

He started to stay later and later, just to make sure someone was still here when you left. Neal took most of his case work home, leaving you with a list of readings to cover and present the next day. He watched as you flipped through pages, making notes in the growing stack of legal pads, and only the small desk lamp providing any light. He told Laurie that he had a big case he was finishing up. It was easier to keep working at his desk, instead of making the trip home, only to end up in his study. It didn’t take much to persuade her. He was pretty sure she preferred having the time to herself, she barely moved when he finally made it home to bed.

One night, he had timed it just right to meet you at the elevators at the end of the night. He walked up behind you, watching as you raised your right foot to scratch at the back of your left calf. Your pencil skirt rippled around your hips as you ran your foot down your leg. The sensible flats, the same ones you had worn that first day skimmed down the back of your left calf and he wondered what it would be like to have you run those sensible flats down his pant leg. He could feel himself twitch in his dress pants. This was a first. Up until this point, he had found you endearing, wanting to help you as much as you helped everyone else. But now, right now, he could imagine grabbing onto your hips, dipping his head into the crook of you neck as he ground against your pert ass. He felt his cock harden that bit more at the image, starting to push against the fly of his dress pants. Using his overcoat from that day’s chilly morning, he covertly covered the front of his slacks.

It wasn’t until the chime announced the elevator’s arrival and you turned around, that he came out of his brief stupor. You smiled and waved him into the waiting lift. That smile did nothing to help him, he shoved his hand into pocket to discreetly adjust himself before walking towards you. Standing next to you, he could smell those last remnants of your perfume. Was it your perfume? It had been a 12 hour work day, maybe that smell was just you. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? You chatted with him, promising that you were going to get to those briefs he left. It would be the first thing you would work on the next day. He listened and tried his best to feign interest, but you then looked up at him as you made your promise to him, and all his brainpower was immediately redirected to willing away his excitement. His hand still in his pocket, it brushed against his tip and he cleared his throat to cover the small groan that wanted to escape.

Reaching the garage, he offered to walk you to your car. You had gestured to the nearly empty lot, but he only uttered, “Better to be safe.”

You only nodded, leading him to your small late 2000s sedan. Reaching the car, you opened the squeaky driver’s door and threw in your workbag and handbag, before easing yourself into the seat. Andy held the door open for you, only to close it once you had settled. Lowering your window, you gave him a smile, thanking him for the escort, “You really didn’t have to do that. You’re a good man, Mr. Barber.”

He leaned down into your window, sighing before bidding you a good night, “You get home safe, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to let the term of endearment slip, but your bashful smile was all it took to let him know he would be using that name again. Watching as you drove off, he made his way to his car. Popping the trunk on the Audi and throwing in the coat and briefcase, he hustled back to front of the car. Giving one more look around the lot, he noticed the security cam pointed at the opposite corner of the garage. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he only took a second to think through his next action. Closing his eyes, he remembered your big eyes looking up at him in the elevator, promising him something and his hand reached down to his pants.

He hadn’t gone down, no matter how he tried to calm himself, his coat had been his only saving grace, hiding away his reaction to you. Wrestling with his belt and button of his pants, he shoved his fly open, grabbing onto himself through his boxer briefs. He had already been steadily growing a nice wet spot on the front side of his briefs. Admittedly, bumping against himself with his hand in his pocket as he walked with you, might have gone a long way to making that spot. A couple of strokes, he reached in and pulled himself out.

Fuck, his hands were still cold from outside. It made his cock jump in his hold and he imagined your little hand taking him. You would apologize to him about your cold hands.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. Let me warm up my hands.”  The imaginary you whispered to him.

“Andy. Call me Andy, sweetheart.” He mumbled into the empty car.

He spit into the palm of his hand, before wrapping it around himself. He could feel you next to him, cuddling as much as possible against him, reaching across the console. Your hand stoking up and down, making sure to twist around the head of his cock. He dribbled onto your fingers and you took your thumb rubbing it along the tip urging more to come out.

“Fuck sweetheart. That feels so good. You’re making me feel so good.” He grunted, his head falling back against the headrest.

He could hear you giggle at that, pressing hard against the vein on the underside of his cock, causing it to throb in your hold.

“Ah shit, sweetheart, squeeze me. I know your hand is so little but try my sweet girl. Come on, try for me.” You would hum at that, reaching between his legs and grabbing onto his sack. Rolling his balls in one hand as you steadily stroked him with the other, giving a squeeze to his cock before a squeeze to his sack.

“What do you need Andy? Whatever you need, I promise I’ll give it to you. Please Andy, tell me what you need.” The imaginary you nipped at his neck, murmuring another promise into his neck.

“Fuck me, sweet girl. Look at me, watch me cum for you. Just for you, sweet girl. Just for you…” He reached for the empty coffee tumbler in his console, placing it under the tip of his cock as he let go. Groaning he pulsed a couple times, continuing to stroke himself until he drained himself fully, because that’s what you would do. You would never do a half ass job.

Sitting back, he looked into the tumbler, seeing a layer of his cum coating the bottom of the cup. He hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. But he supposed a sexless marriage would leave him with a lot of pent-up energy. Remembering Laurie, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the glove compartment, wiping himself before shoving them into the tumbler. After buckling his pants, he started the car, backing out lot and turning onto the freeway for home.

That night had been a couple of weeks ago and he found himself hovering around your desk as much as possible, asking for help finding a text. He would time your coffee breaks and bump into you in the breakroom to make small talk with you. Each time he saw you, he tried to get you to smile. Even on your most stressful days, your shoulders hunch, he would make quick jabs at Neal which would inevitably cause a small giggle to pass your lips. He liked those times, the sound of your laugh would get stored away in his mind, coming out only in the shower as he painted the walls for you.

When you came by with the potluck sign up sheet earlier this week, you mentioned that there were still a few sides left that no one had chosen. Looking at the list, he saw the mashed potatoes listed and quickly jotted his name down beside it. He could probably get Laurie to make it for him. She had been in a better mood recently. Had waited up for him when he worked late. She would welcome him to bed and curl into his side, rubbing circles along his chest. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but if it meant not having to deal with a moody Laurie daily, he would take it.

The day of the potluck, he walked in finding most of the office milling about. It didn’t look like much would be getting done today. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, most had spent the last few days easing into their vacation. He looked at the conference room to see the spread already laid out, you were flitting around making sure everything was set up just right.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you jumped a little as he came up behind you, placing the dish of mashed potatoes in front of you.

“This will be perfect,” you took the dish moving it next to someone’s version of cornbread stuffing.

Turning around, you smiled at him. He thought about stepping back from you, but instead stood still. Reaching up to his arm, you grabbed his elbow and let out small breath, “I should let everyone know it’s ready.”

Slipping from around him, you walked out to the bull pin area, inviting everyone to come and dig in. He watched as everyone hustled to the conference room as he stepped out of the other door. Making his way towards his desk, he settled down, starting up his computer to check some late correspondence. He needed to spend time with you but not with everyone around. He placed his coffee tumbler on the clay coaster that Jacob had made him back in 4th grade. Sighing, he would wait to talk with you later.

The din in the conference room started to slowly die down and looking at the clock he saw that it was nearly half past 2. Most of the office should be heading out for their holiday and he figured, now would be his best bet. Grabbing his stuff together, he headed back out to find the room mostly empty. He couldn’t possibly have missed you, could he? Staring out to the row of desks, he spotted your workbag and handbag still on your desk. So, you were here, just not in the conference room.

Walking into the breakroom, he saw you at the sink scrapping off food into the trash and rinsing off dishes. Standing in the doorway, he watched this small glimpse into the domestic side of you and fuck, if it didn’t do something for him. Imagining coming home to you in the kitchen, prepping dinner for the two of you. You would still have your work clothes on but only now you would be barefoot. You would relax into him as he came up behind you, arms circling your waist.

He let out a quick breath, shaking himself from his daydream, before setting down his bag on the small table in the room. Coffee tumbler in hand, he approached you, quietly interrupting your dishwashing, “I bet you haven’t even made yourself a plate.”

Looking down, followed by a small bashful smile, you nodded, “There was so much to do.”

Grabbing onto his mashed potatoes, he looked for a spoon before starting to serve a portion onto a plate, “Come on. It’s your potluck too. You should get to enjoy it too. Besides, you got to at least try these mashed potatoes. A lot of effort went into making them. Go on now, sit down.”

Watching you sit down, he turns back to the counter, grabbing the gravy boat beside the sink. Taking the coffee tumbler, he had set down, he carefully removed the lid before emptying the contents into the remaining gravy. He stared as the viscous liquid drizzled out. With the spoon, he quickly mixed the gravy with the new ingredient together before pouring out the mixture on the mashed potatoes.

Turning back towards you, you sat at the table patiently waiting for him as he set the plate in front you. Quickly thanking him, you dug in, spooning a generous amount, gravy and all, onto your utensil and bringing to your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s really good Mr. Barber. Kind of earthy tasting. Are there mushrooms in the gravy?” You looked at him, a small amount of gravy stuck to the side of your mouth.

“Something like that,” he whispered, eyeing that speck of gravy and reaching out to clean it from your lip.

“Oh, I’m a mess,” your cheeks heated as you grabbed a napkin to clean the corner of your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, taking his thumb with gravy still on it and licking it clean, “Go ahead, finish it all.”

You followed his direction, cleaning your plate, your spoon making a sound as you laid it down. You had eaten it all. Enjoying it, if he were to go by the little happy noises you made as you ate. He knew you would love it.

“Here, let me put this up for you,” he took the plate and spoon back the sink and as he rinsed the plate, he asked over his shoulder, “Did you like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mr. Barber. I promise.”

He gulped, steadying himself against the counter at your promise.

“You know, what, why don’t you take the rest home? There’s still a little bit of mashed potatoes and gravy left,” he asked already reaching for the lid of the Tupperware Laurie had used when packing it this morning.

“I couldn’t do that. You made it, you should take it home,” you answered next to him, and he realized that you must have gotten up from the table.

Locking the lid on the dish, he turned to you, already handing over the remaining potatoes covered in his gravy, “I insist.”

He had made that gravy just for you. After stroking another one out in the front seat of his car in the courthouse parking garage, he had sprayed another load into his tumbler. Looking at the cup again, he swore each session’s load was getting bigger even though this was a daily occurrence at this point. It had ended with a particularly bountiful finish, as he imagined you between his legs. Head bobbing on this cock, tits hanging from your top, before you had spit onto his cock, trapping it between your breasts and finishing him with a hard snuck to just the mushroom head of his cock.

It hit him then what a waste it was to rinse out his tumbler every night when he got home. You would love the taste of him. He knew would. Over the next few days, he collected each load, storing it in his coffee tumbler on the top shelf of his fridge at home. He had a couple of close calls when Laurie asked why he was keeping his coffee cold. He brushed it off, saying it was just water. He was trying to stop drinking so much coffee. Bad for his health. She had just nodded, leaving the tumbler alone.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you nodded taking the dish with a smile.

“You can call me Andy. Promise you will?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, giving himself room in the suddenly tight pants.

“I promise. Thank you, Andy,” smiling up at him, he swore you could feel what he did. He swore you knew exactly what he had given you. Swore that you were happy and willing to take it. His sweet girl would take anything he gave her.

“You almost done, Ace?”

Andy was interrupted from his trance, hearing a male voice enter the room.

“Jake!” You called to the blonde man walking into the room. His shirt was untucked and his tie not quite knotted straight.

“I’m supposed to take you out for a Friendsgiving dinner today, remember?” Jake moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Who in the ever-loving fuck is this guy? Andy watched as you hugged Jake around the waist, shaking your head, ready to apologize, “I’m sorry Jake. My day got away from me. Oh, this my kind of boss, Andy. Andy Barber.”

Jake reached out a hand to him to shake while his other still stayed slung along your waist, “Jake. Nice to meet you.”

Andy looked at the hand in front of him, before nodding and giving this fucker a firm handshake. If he squeezed a little harder than he should, well that wasn’t on him.

“Go get your stuff together and then we’ll head out,” Jake whispered down at you, to which you just nodded and flitted out the room.

Stuck with just Jake in the room, Andy leaning back against the sink giving this other guy a once over. He wouldn’t be an issue. No way did this guy have the prowess or charm to lure you away. You were his sweet girl. This fucker wouldn’t change that.

“I’m only going to say this once, leave her alone.”

Andy looked back at Jake, eyebrow raised, before scoffing, “And who are you exactly?”

“I’m guy who knows how to download the feed from the parking garage’s cameras.” Andy swallowed hard as Jake stared him down. He refused to nod, instead crossing his arms and looking down.

“I’m ready Jake!” You came back in, your handbag slung over your shoulder and the mashed potatoes in your arms as Jake took your workbag from you.

“Let’s shake a leg then, Ace,” you giggled at Jake and Andy frowned. When did that giggle change from just being his?

“Bye Andy. I’ll see you next week. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Waving goodbye to the two of you, Andy waited to hear the ding of the elevator before grabbing the tumbler and throwing it across the room. It clanked against the wall before rolling back towards his feet.

Hands on hips, he looked down at the cup. It was okay. Jake couldn’t do anything to him. He had checked to make sure the cameras were never pointed at him. But you, his sweet girl, he needed a new plan. Grabbing the cup from the floor, he rinsed it before setting it next to the empty coffee maker.

It hit Andy then. You did love your coffee. And you always made sure to have cream with it.

@buckybarnesisdaddy, @theinheriteddutchess, @sarahdonald87

[insaneplane]

“We need to bring back the punk movement!!” “We need to bring back the riot grrrl movement!! :(“

guys those movements are still here 💀 punks and riot grrrls have not gone anywhere the reason why you think they’re gone is because your not gonna find a lot of them on tiktok bruh punk scenes especially are still everywhere

if you do find punks on tiktok they most likely sure as hell don’t know what punk is because they dress the part yes but they do NOTTTT have the ideals

oh shit im abt to go on a tangent abt punks i could talk about this for hours

so many people dont understand is you cant be punk if you dont have the ideals you cant be a “conservative punk” or whatever the hell

you can dress like a total nerd but still believe in their ideologies and you can call yourself punk PUNK IS NOT ABT THE CLOTHES!!!!! ISTAHQGW same thing with goths because goths originated from punks so political shit is also important with goths

but yah no basically to what I was originally saying they still exist just like go to local punk or riot grrrl shows n shit they prob aren’t that hard to find especially with the help of google

anyways uhm im gonna stop myself before I go on another tangent about punks because I know way to much abt these mfs hit that subscribe button if you want another rant from yours truly

[vidding]

VidRecs.com

The first rule of the Rec Club is that you talk about VidRecs.com.

The second rule of the Rec Club is that you hit the reblog button "as hard as you can."

The third rule of the Rec Club is that if you become member you have to rec.

VidRecs.com is a fan created project one stop shop for all your vid recs. Yeah, I got the domain. The passion didn't stop there. Vid Recs deserve a better place than our selective memories and random bookmarks on the internet. "What kind of features should a site called VidRecs.com have?" Remember, you wanted this.

A spot to put a blurb about why you recced/love the vid.

A recs page to showcase both You Tube & Vimeo recs in one spot.

The ability to rec vids with just the Video URL

A way to give proper credit to the original uploader & their description.

A profile page with my avatar and cover image

A profile page with my social network links if I want others to find elsewhere.

A way to find vid recs site-wide by fandom.

Had enough? No?

If the rec is on AO3 a comment button can be added to redirect viewers to the AO3 Comment page

On request you can get your own VidRecs.com profile URL (i.e. "VidRecs.com/yourfandomname" so viewers go directly to your rec page.

Everything you rec is automatically added to an automatically generated profile playlist so viewers can view it as a playlist.

You can create playlists using both your recs and recs of any other members on site.

You can sign up using Tumblr, Discord, Google or the regular email password combo.

Still not impressed. Gee, you're a tough cookie

You can rec vids directly from You Tube or Vimeo.

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You need a video overview? There is one below.

It's nearing the end of the year. It's so easy to forget vids you've enjoyed without a reliable place not only to reference but also share them with others. This can be what you want it to be. The groundwork has been done and it's still a work in progress but a lot closer to the ideal than most. All that's missing is a whole bunch of people willing the rec things and the site. Yeah, go ahead and rec the site. 😀

Membership is currently by approval. If you would like to speed things up just contact us at contactus@vidrecs.com. We are working on a way to make the registration process a lot more streamlined. Enough works now about the site to begin using it and if you run into any issues let us know. Thank you! Rec often. Rec hard. Our memories can fail us, and the internet is not reliable.

Additionally, there is also a greater chance vids recced here will be archived in case something happens to them in the future, but I am sure you are ll familiar with that. Reccing can be a democratic process that raises awareness about what should be archived or at least we hope.

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The last vidder friendly hosting & streaming site?

[updatingranboo]

hello boobers of tumblr! because it seems like our streamer never does it, i wanted to give you all a refresher on twitch prime !

if you're unaware, if you (or a family member) pays for an amazon prime account you have access to one free twitch subscription a month! all you have to do is link your amazon account that has those prime benefits to your twitch account, and then select "prime gaming" when you subscribe. its easy!

this is a tutorial for my desktop friends, but its fairly similar in the apps i assume!)

first, go to https://gaming.amazon.com/home and log into your amazon account

once signed in, open the drop down menu and here you'll have the ability to sign into your twitch account! i don't know if it will say "manage twitch accounts" or "add twitch accounts", because mine is already linked here, but it should be in around the same spot.

(i don't want to go through the process of unlinking and relinking mine so i'm pretty sure this is how it looks, sorry if not!)

once linked, go to the streamer you want to sub to! (this is for ranboo fans, but if you want to sub to someone else the process is the same!)

the purple button here will say "subscribe" ! click on it, and open the menu. once in the menu, there will be a small box to tick to use your prime gaming subscription (sorry for no screenshot, again i cant undo my sub so i cant give an example sadly)

tick that box, scroll down and hit subscribe!

its completely free, and gives money from amazon to ranboo every time you use it! just remember after a month, you have to resubscribe manually. benefits include not getting pre-roll ads and using sub-exclusive emotes!

if you go on to link your twitch account to your discord account, you can even access ranboo's sub-exclusive "ranmail" discord channels in his server, where he occasionally posts!

if you don't have an account that pays for amazon prime, ask a friend or family member if they do, and if they would mind if you linked your account! its a benefit that many people don't know they have, and using it costs nothing!

that's all. happy boobing!

[mjonthetrack]

shine

Chapter 7: “Growing Up With Ciara” — ft. Janelle Harris

Janelle adjusted the tripod, made sure the frame was hitting just right, then flopped back on the velvet couch in her sister’s oversized sunroom. The natural lighting was giving model glow, and the Skims two-piece she was wearing didn’t hurt either. Ink peeked out from her shoulder, snaked down her thigh, and glittered across her side — and that tiny belly button ring? Yeah, it sparkled every time she threw her head back laughing.

Ciara walked in like she was about to accept a Grammy — slick ponytail, luxury loungewear that probably cost someone’s rent, and lashes longer than a CVS receipt.

“You really gon’ record looking like that?” Ciara asked, lifting a brow and smirking.

“Looking like what? Like somebody’s fine ass blessing?” Janelle shot back, posing with one knee up and a dramatic wink to the camera. “Sis, they not ready.”

Ciara chuckled, sitting beside her and already sipping on a green juice. “Alright, let’s do this before your subscribers start threatening me in your comments.”

The camera light blinked red. They were live.

“Hey besties!” Janelle greeted, all sunshine smile and glossy lips. “Y’all been asking for this for like… months. And I finally pinned big sis down.”

Ciara leaned into the frame. “Wassup y’all, it’s C!”

Tagline overlay: GROWING UP WITH CIARA — ft. Janelle Harris[15 minutes of chaos incoming]

The video cut between laughter, storytimes, and mini roast sessions.

“So tell them how you used to rehearse in the mirror talking ‘bout some ‘Goodies not my goodies’ and snatch my hairbrush for a mic!” Janelle teased, snorting as Ciara side-eyed her.

“I was building a brand!” Ciara said defensively, fake hairbrush-mic in hand again.

“Girl you was building a delusion!”

Then came the dance break. "1, 2 Step" hit, and they both popped up — Ciara dancing like it was 2004 again, all clean and choreo-ready. Janelle? She immediately dropped into a squat, started throwing it back in her Skims like her rent depended on it.

“DON’T HURT ‘EM NOW, SIS!” Ciara hollered, nearly choking on her juice. “THEY AIN’T READY FOR ALL THAT!”

The two collapsed on the couch, screaming laughing, Janelle clutching her stomach and wheezing while Ciara wiped her tears.

Janelle’s laugh echoed through the house — loud, raw, contagious. The kind of laugh that made strangers smile. Her dimples popped. Her curls bounced. The comments? Already going feral.

“Wait that’s Ciara’s SISTER?!” “WHY Y’ALL AIN’T TELL US CIARA HAD A HOT YOUNGER SISTER??” “Not her being fine, funny AND she can dance?? Nah this gotta be AI.” “I see why that wide receiver dude been liking her posts every two days 👀”

The vlog hit 3 million views in under 24 hours.

Her following? +500K overnight.

The blogs? Eating it UP.

"Ciara’s Curvy Baby Sis Has the Internet in a Chokehold." "Janelle Harris Is the Sister You Didn’t Know You Needed." "From Madden Queen to Viral Meme — Who Is Janelle Ashanti Harris?"

And somewhere in Carolina, Xavier Legette watched that video at least four times in a row.

The first time? For laughs.

The second? To clock that belly ring.

The third? To confirm yes, she was really doing that dance in those shorts.

The fourth?

He didn���t even realize he’d hit replay.

Chapter 8: Baddies Up Indefinitely

It was 9:07 a.m. when the internet lost its mind. Again.

Janelle had barely brushed her curls, still in bed with one sock on and a pineapple bun holding on for dear life. But her phone? Already overheating.

The Insta story was up for exactly two minutes before the DMs started flooding in.

📸 [Photo: Janelle standing in her sister’s hallway mirror, one leg popped slightly forward. The Nutty Professor tee hung just low enough to tease thigh, her tattoo peeking beneath the hem. Her lip was glossed, her eyes half-lidded like she hadn’t even tried — because she hadn’t. The flash hit just right. No pants. Just vibes.] Caption: “Who’s tryna lose at Madden? Catch me on Twitch tonight. Baddies up indefinitely 🔒♥️💪🏽”

Boom.

Twitter retweeted the screenshot like gospel. IG comments? Unhinged. Her Twitch chat? Already pre-buzzin’ and she hadn’t even logged on yet.

“She really said pants? For what??” “That shirt big enough to hold the trauma of every man she’s beaten at 2K.” “I love when she disrespects us so casually 😍” “Baddies UP. Madden players DOWN.”

In Carolina, Xavier Legette saw it while eating protein pancakes in his kitchen. Fork halfway to his mouth, paused mid-scroll. The pic loaded and he blinked like the screen had glitched.

Tee hanging off her shoulder. Brown thighs out. That lil caption?

“Who’s tryna lose at Madden…”

He leaned back in his chair, a slow grin crawling across his face.

“Oh she talkin’ to me.”

Bryce, across the table, didn’t even look up from his phone. “Bruh you already tryna slide?”

“I ain’t never stopped,” Xavier replied, standing up. “But now she invited the smoke.”

He cracked his knuckles, grabbed his controller, and opened the Twitch app.

Her stream countdown was already live.

Chapter 9: Who’s Tryna Lose at Madden?

The stream had only been live for five minutes, and Janelle was already chewing someone out.

“BOY if you don’t get your lil Wi-Fi McDonald’s signal OFF this game—what is this lag??!”

Her face was bare but glowing, curls in a puff under her headset, that oversized Nutty Professor tee drooping off one shoulder. A half-empty bag of Hot Cheetos sat next to her keyboard. She had the PS5 controller in one hand and a pink Stanley cup in the other. It was pure chaos energy, and her followers lived for it.

Chat was moving faster than a quarterback blitz:

“She ain’t even tryin and still got 3 touchdowns 💀” “NOT THE CROTCH CAM ANGLE—GIRL WE SEE YOU 😭” “‘Baddies up indefinitely’ is the new national motto.” “The only L she’s taking tonight is in her lashes box.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you BLITZING ME again?” she said sweetly into the mic, leaning forward with a grin. “You real brave for somebody that just got moss’d by my created player. You got beat by a 5'3" tight end named Big Bertha, sir.Please reflect.”

She hit a nasty juke. Touchdown.

The stream ERUPTED.

Janelle sat back, took a long sip from her cup, and looked dead into the camera. “Another one bites the dust. Who next? Don’t be shy. Come get folded.”

Her sub count jumped by 2K in real time.

She glanced at her phone buzzing off to the side. Mentions going dumb on Twitter. A few verified checks sliding into her Insta DMs—including a blue check from you know who. 👀

But she wasn’t checking those. Not yet.

This was her time.

She queued up another match, popped a handful of gummy bears, and flipped her camera to show the scoreboard. 34–3. Somebody in the chat made a TikTok edit before the final whistle even blew.

And the girlie still looked unbothered.

“See, this the thing,” she said, stretching. “Y’all come here thinking I’m just vibes and booty shorts. And I am—but I’m also gonna drag your ass in Madden. Respectfully.”

She winked at the cam, then clicked back to the main menu.

“Next victim.”

Chapter 10: You Got a Mic, Country?

Janelle was mid-stretch, her camera catching a tiny peek of the “thick thigh, soft life” tattoo running up the side of her leg when her mod suddenly typed in all caps:

MOD: YO. YO. Y’ALL. LOOK AT WHO JUST JOINED.

The chat slowed for a half second like the collective internet blinked. Then it exploded.

“IS THAT XAVIER LEGETTE???” “Not THE Xavier. Like. NFL Xavier???” “I KNOW THAT COUNTRY DRAWL AIN’T BOUT TO HIT MY EARS RN” “omg he finna get COOKED on live”

Janelle blinked at the sudden flood of attention, then looked at her screen. A new username had popped up in the voice chat.

XLegette_17: “Y’all talkin' all that noise in here. Thought I’d see for myself.”

OH.

That slow Southern baritone slid through her headset like warm butter on cornbread. Rich. Thick. Swagger-drenched.

Janelle’s jaw dropped. Then she busted out laughing, leaning all the way back in her gamer chair, knees up, nearly knocking her damn headset off.

“AYOOOOO, WHO THE FUCK LET FARMER BROWN IN CHAT?!”

The chat lost it.

“BROOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭” “Not Farmer Brown 😭 she VIOLATED off top” “He sound like a sexier Bubba Gump 🫠” “THIS THE BEST STREAM OF ALL TIME”

Xavier chuckled low in his mic, the kind of laugh that made your stomach flip like a TikTok thirst trap.

“Don’t play wit me, li’l girl,” he said, slow and smooth. “I been hearin’ you talk all that smack all night. You gon’ call me Farmer Brown, but you the one out here plowin’ fields in Madden like it’s harvest season.”

Janelle wheezed. “I know you not tryin’ to flirt and threaten me in the same breath like that’s gone work.”

“Who sayin’ it ain’t workin’?” he shot back.

Dead. Gone. Stream over. Bury her with the pink headset.

The chat was unhinged:

“NAH HE TOO SMOOTH WTF 😭” “JANELLE DON’T FOLD STAY STRONG SIS” “He said ‘lil girl’ I’m pregnant now???”

Janelle sat up, composure coming back… kinda. She tilted her head at the screen like she was unimpressed, even though her dimples were fighting to show.

“Aight, country. You really wanna run a game?”

Xavier: “I ain’t come in here for decoration.”

“Oh okay then,” she smirked, queuing up a new match. “Let me whoop you real quick before you gotta ice your hamstrings or whatever.”

He laughed again, deeper this time.

Xavier: “You sure you can handle me, lil mama?”

Janelle: “Boy I dragged Future off a barstool once. You just play football.”

GAME ON.

Chapter 11: The Southern Wide Receiver vs. The Loudmouth On Twitch

Xavier should’ve been chilling.

Game film was playing in the background. Protein shake half full. Ice pack on his quad. Real low-key vibes. But no… his dumb ass was on Twitch.

Watching her.

That same girl who called him a “country muhfucka” at the game. The one who had literally tackled her brother-in-law on the sideline in a pair of heels and a Chanel mini bag. The one with thighs thick enough to start a stampede and a mouth slicker than a wet field.

Yeah. Her.

He’d found her Twitch through a clip that had gone viral on Twitter—her dropping some poor soul off in Madden with a one-handed interception and yelling, “PUT SOME RESPECT ON THICK WOMEN WITH GOOD WIFI!”

He didn’t even hesitate.

Clicked the link. Logged in.

And now? He was sitting there on mute, headset over his braids, staring at the screen like he’d never seen a woman before.

She was sprawled in her gamer chair, one knee tucked up, a t-shirt hanging off her shoulder with a gold chain glinting against her collarbone. Laughing with her whole body. Munching on Hot Cheetos. Saying shit like “who next, bitch?” and daring folks to challenge her like she wasn’t fine as hell with controller skills to match.

It was a wrap.

He finally hit the request to join her party chat. Heart kinda beatin’ hard. Not even gon’ lie.

Her voice came through loud and clear.

“AYOOOOO, WHO THE FUCK LET FARMER BROWN IN CHAT?!”

He laughed so hard he leaned off the damn couch.

“Don’t play wit me, lil girl,” he said into the mic, trying to keep his voice calm—low. He could hear his accent thickening just trying to keep up with her energy. “I been hearin’ you talk all that smack all night. You gon’ call me Farmer Brown, but you the one out here plowin’ fields in Madden like it’s harvest season.”

God, she laughed again.

That loud, contagious, dimple-deep laugh that made his whole chest tighten.

“I know you not tryin’ to flirt and threaten me in the same breath like that’s gone work.”

“Who sayin’ it ain’t workin’?”

She wavered—just a beat. He heard it. She tried to hide it, but he caught the way her tone flipped when she called him “country.”

He liked that.

He liked her.

This was bad.

The more they played, the worse it got. She was loud, and fast with the jokes, calling plays like she’d been on the sticks since the womb. When she beat him in the second quarter with a pick-six and yelled, “GET HIS COUNTRY ASS OUT MY GAME!”—he smiled.

Like… real smile. Hard. Lip bitten. Head back.

“She got me bad,” he muttered to himself, muted.

And the chat? Oh they were no help:

“Oh he wanna bite her kneecaps so bad rn” “Look at how he let her talk to him… you can tell he into her 😭” “Xavier blink twice if you wanna be her baby daddy”

He should’ve tapped out.

Should’ve logged off. Saved his pride.

But the way she looked in that oversized shirt, hair in a puff, yelling into her mic like she wasn’t breaking the internet with every new clip? Yeah.

He was done for.

And when she ended the game with a final touchdown and said, “That’s how you end it, baby. Baddies always win.” with a wink?

He didn’t even hear the buzzer.

He just sat there, headset in his lap, starin’ at her face on the screen like a simp.

Yeah… he was in trouble now.

Chapter 12: Twitch Stream Over, But That Grip on His Soul? Still Active.

He was still in the chat.

Still watching her.

Like a fool.

Like a 6’3”, cleats-wearing, country-drawlin’, whipped fool.

Janelle leaned into the mic, her voice smooth with mischief and a sprinkle of disrespect that made his jaw clench just right.

“Aight Bubba Gump, maybe you should stick to the real thing. Not too bad with them hands the other day, country.”

Xavier blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Did she just…?

He sat up straighter, heartbeat thudding loud enough to drown out his boy Bryce yellin’ at the game in the background.

The other day?

Oh, she was talking about the game. The one where she stood on the sidelines yelling at her brother-in-law, snatched the football like it was her birthright, and called Xavier a “country muhfucka” on live TV in front of half the nation. And now she was bringing that up? With that little smirk on her lips and her voice all sugar and venom?

Oh, he liked her bad.

And she knew it.

That’s what killed him.

She leaned forward again, reaching for a bottle of Gatorade on her desk, her top dipping low—cleavage soft, glistening a little under the ring light, gold chain sitting right there like it was trying to test his soul.

She sipped slow.

Unbothered.

Like she wasn’t pulling this grown man into full cardiac arrest from three states away.

“Aight y’all,” she said with a grin, that dimple poking so hard it might’ve bruised the screen. “That’s it for ya girl. I gotta go bless my sister with my presence. Bye bitches!”

She tossed a peace sign at the camera, tongue poking between her teeth in that cocky little “yeah, I know I’m fine” way.

Click.

Stream off.

Chat exploded:

NOT HER CALLIN’ HIM BUBBA GUMP 😭😭😭 She really just logged off like that and left this man on the ropes lmaoooo That “not bad with them hands” line?? She want him fr yall just don’t get it

Xavier sat there, blinking at his now black screen, headset halfway off.

He scratched the back of his neck, smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Aight… Janelle.”

He stood up, walking away from the desk, already grabbing his phone.

He opened her IG. Her newest story was still up—her grinning in a Nutty Professor tee, captioned “who’s tryna lose at Madden, catch me on twitch tonight, baddies up indefinitely 🔒♥️💪🏽”

He laughed low to himself.

She was too much.

But he liked that.

She had him grinning like a middle schooler with a crush and a PS5 controller.

“Ima see about you,” he muttered, low. “Keep playin’ with me if you want to.”

Text pending.

Or maybe a DM.

Either way?

The chase officially started.

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part one) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: innuendos, mention of pet death (briefly in chat), cursing, child neglect, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: Was scrolling through some old reblogs and found this gold mine. It is perfect for Reddie, so... Also, in terms of vibes, I think Richie's content is rivaling Game Grumps vibes, random games with funny commentary. Also, was this supposed to be a oneshot? Yes. Is it? No. This universe is just so 👌👌👌. Anyway. Enjoy :))]]

Richie Tozier was not lucky.

He grew up in the middle of nowhere in a shitty small town that was perpetually stuck in the 80s. And he was gay. So, that, in itself, spoke a lot about his shitty luck.

On top of that, Richie's parents, Maggie and Wentworth Tozier, really didn't give a shit about what he did. Ever. (He remembers telling them about being an official Twitch partner, and he got the equivalent of a 'yeah, yeah, whatever you say' text.) So, he was kinda alone. Since he was like 5 years old.

To be fair, Richie wasn't really the easiest person to be around. His therapist would probably say: "Because you never received much attention at home, you became a physical representation of 'LOOK AT ME'." And he was usually right, so there was some merit to that.

The thing was, Richie always knew he was destined for the public eye (maybe because he felt so insignificant), he wanted to make a difference. Do something so that people would see him, for once-

Streaming wasn't initially anything special, not really. Richie was just bored, which was honestly how most things he did started, and decided to make an account. Cruising over the app for awhile, he doesn't know exactly what made him do it, but he just decided to go in balls deep.

He bought a webcam, a mic, a better gaming chair, and a way fucking better PC. One good thing about his parents, they were rich. (Not the megamansion kind but definitely the healthy retirement kind). And he doesn't know if they felt guilt about how they raised him, but they were pretty lenient with 'allowances'. If you could even call them that.

And then, one day, he just pressed that fancy button.

And the rest is history.

Richie's life was kind of built around streaming at this point. He didn't really have an internal clock, so he'd wake up to stream in the mornings if he was responsible, and if he wasn't he'd do them when he was bored at 3 am. (His subs had taken to calling those streams "Richy hours" like the witch thing. Richie just rolled with it.) In the beginning, his chat and subscribers felt a little like his friends.

With college far out of his mind, he focused solely on content creation. Which, at this point was mainly streaming (not that he hasn't tried other things, there is an old YouTube channel his chat will never let down). That being said, he focused on that a lot -maybe too much, by some of his friend's standards.

That's where he was now, tapping out a rhythm on his desk as he readied up everything for the stream. This one was an actual scheduled one, which was a win for Richie's responsibility. Skimming over his monitors, he made sure to put some cursed picture on the greenscreen behind him (and made sure his shirt didn't have green on it). Making sure all his little special things were in order, like the subscriber notifications and little visuals. (They were all his own renditions, handmade. Meaning they were disfigured stick figures that chat now adored.)

And with that, Richie hit the button.

He waited a moment for people to flood in, always did -humming along with some song he had stuck in his head for the 400th time.

"Hey, all you motherfuckers," he chimed (yes, that is what he called his fans), "-how are we doing today?"

Richie skimmed over the chat through his glasses, trying to catch a few of them.

"My cat died," he read, shifting a hand through his hair (it was probably too long now, but he didn’t care), "-Fuck, dude, you're ruining the vibes. But, seriously, rest in peace."

He saluted, like Richie would do.

Skimming through chat again, he caught on another.

"Where did you get your name? Funny story actually," he began, "-it's what bullies used to call me in middle school."

The name being 'trashmouth.tozier', that is.

"No, chat, I'm not trauma dumping-"

His eyes caught on a checkmark, stan.the.man, Richie grinned big. 'What the hell are you doing up this early?'

"Staniel! Good to see you today," he clapped his hands, fidgeting with something else (he physically could not stop moving), "-And I am streaming, fucking duh."

He saw the chat waft through with a few 'STANLEY!!!'s, and maybe grinned a little brighter. Stanley was one of the Losers Club members, or this group of streamers who played together. It was Stanley, Bev, Ben, Mike, Bill, and well... Richie.

Stanley did a lot of calm games, the kinds like Stardew Valley where there's only a little combat. And even then, he just mostly did those like cheap puzzle games where you digitally built a puzzle. How he had an audience, Richie doesn't know. Sometimes he wonders how Stan even befriended him, so he was a little clueless in general.

Bev did a lot of things on stream honestly. Her biggest stuff was sewing, making outfits, and trying them on. Her chat would tell her what to fix or give her ideas on what to do next; it was pretty fun and unique. Richie popped in a few times and gave his two cents; Beverly usually just flipped him off wordlessly, but still. She did game though, obviously.

Ben came actually as one of her subscribers (unsurprisingly, Richie would find out). Bev dug into him once, watched a stream, and recruited him. He was actually the newest of the crew (it went Stanley, Richie, Bill, Mike, Bev, and Ben), and did a sort of mix of streams. He did book reviews and would take chat's suggestions on what to read next, for one. Sometimes, they'd all submit poems for him to read (Richie would send one in and Ben wouldn't even read it out loud, he was too soft for that). If not anything book-related (snore), Ben did mystery games. Like half those ones where you find things on certain screens, and half like story-driven ones. Otherwise, his channel was pretty quiet, closer to Stanley's in vibes.

Mike was the epitome of calm. EPITOME. Mostly, he did story games, the kind where characters die (Richie had seen him cry on camera at least twice), and your choices impact everything else. He did dabble in horror games though, a little because it was funny to watch scary stuff happen and Mike be completely centered with himself. And if his chat felt like it, they'd play like a cozy game. It was just the right vibes for Mike as a person.

Bill was a fun one, he fully played horror games (mostly). And yeah, he got scared, just like any normal person would, but then he'd beat the shit out of the game. Richie has watched him clear full games in 2 hours, whole games. God made him fucking determined, and Bill took that to the max. Richie was good at certain games in particular, but Bill? He could easily figure out a game in minutes and do pretty fucking good in it in, tops, an hour. He was the kind of streamer who sometimes did speedruns. It was pretty impressive, Richie will admit.

Now, Richie?

Trashmouth Tozier was total utter chaos, his chat usually reeled him in, which was kind of the opposite of what Twitch was. But it's how it worked.

Any game was, well, fair game. An obscure NES title that is shitty because of how hard it is? Done. Barbie Horse Adventures? Let's do it. A dating game about pigeons? Yeah, been there, done that. (He dated every single pigeon, every single one, and unlocked all the story available.) Story game where you can control your path? He was going villain every time, but yeah. If he wasn't doing chat's recommendations, he was showing off in some arcade-style game or maybe an RPG. Not to brag, but he was pretty fucking good at them; the Losers Club hated that, mostly because it blew up his ego.

"What are we doing today?" Richie read out, and then grinned big and wide, "-Well, well, chat. We're tackling something you guys have begged for, almost as much as your mom was last ni-"

Beep! Beep! A clown horn echoed through the air.

The little visual of a clown (with an obnoxiously big red nose) popped up, along with a name and message.

mike.me.up donated $1: took one for the team guys

Right, Richie had a physical button people could use to shut him up. Every time someone donated, they could choose to 'beep' him. His friends had picked up on saying it to him verbally: "Beep, beep, Richie."

"C'mon, Mikey," he groaned, eyes dipping over the chat (which was still flooded with horn emojis and 'beep, beep' in all caps), "-that one wasn't even that bad-"

stan.the.man: thanks mike

"Guys," he whined, throwing his head back,"-stop ganging up on me. Chat, defend me."

The chat blew up (mostly those like huffing out air emojis and soldier salutes), and Richie thought he saw a request for a Barbie game (again), and he ignored it.

big.bill: are you going to tell us the game or not, rich?

"Billy, you always have to ruin the fun, don't you?" Richie pursed his lips with no bite. He never really had any bite, "-But okay, fine. Let's fucking do this-"

With a grin, he unmuted the audio that was playing from the game's main screen, which chat couldn't see yet.

"Dream Daddy~"

reddy.bevvy: FINALLYYY, our prayers have been answered

"Bevvy, baby!" Richie called out, smiling again, before asking, "-What the fuck are you all doing? Shouldn't you be streaming? Or am I the only one who has my shit together today? For once?"

Before anyone could answer, another notification flew across his screen.

benny.boy raided you with 2,645 viewers

"Benny," he called out with a grin, before pausing, "-Wait, when the fuck did your stream start? It's like nine in the morning-"

Richie paused a moment, waiting for the chat to answer his question, Which it did.

"6?!" he spoke in disbelief, eyes wide through the lens of his glasses, "-What the fuck, Ben? What are you doing-"

They went back and forth a few times, Richie rambling about a few different things. Today, it was a little about how he went to get a coffee and the barista put expired milk into it. He really couldn't make this shit up. After that though, he decided to focus in on the game.

Shifting the screen to gameplay with his little camera in the corner, Richie skimmed through the chat again.

"Isn't this game gay?" he read out aloud, "-Yes, it is, and so am I, while we're talking about it."

The chat flooded with rainbow flags and hearts, something in Richie's heart twinkled. He really had a good community, somehow. He had no fucking clue how, actually-

"Wait," Richie gasped, looking at the game, "-I can make my fucking character?! My gay dad? Chat-"

stan.the.man: we're going to be here forever guys, thanks

"Stan," he held his hands over his heart, dramatically, "-you wound me. I thought we were friends. It's always the closest ones who hurt you the worst-"

stan.the.man donated $1: shut the fuck up richard

"Awe," Richie switched his tone, "-Stanley, thanks for the donation. Time for more important matters though-"

He leveled a serious gaze into the camera.

"What do we think, chat? Twink or bear?"

His mods were pretty quick to set up a poll, and actually, it was a twink sweep. And to be fair, Richie did love him a twink. So, he wasn't super surprised. By the time he got to the clothes, chat was slower, calmer, and maybe that's why he saw the message. Or maybe it was fate, Richie could believe it.

eddie.kaspbrak: just don't give him a shitty shirt like yours

eddie.kaspbrak: i can't handle both of them on my screen at the same time

Richie stopped what he was doing, pulling on his shirt at the shoulders (it was white with flamingos wearing fedoras), "What, Eddie Spaghetti? You don't like it?"

He had a tendency to talk to chat like he knew them personally (which he decidedly did not know this person). It was part of the appeal of his streams. Or he thinks so anyway.

eddie.kaspbrak: what the fuck did you just call me?

"Eddie Spaghetti," he repeated, plainly, but with a little bit of a shit-eating grin.

eddie.kaspbrak: that's the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard and I watch your streams so that's saying something

Richie laughed out loud and pinned the comment himself (it stayed there until the stream ended), "Eds gets off on a good one! Chat, let's applaud-"

Chat was filled with clapping emojis, and that was that.

The next time Richie heard from Eddie was about a day later (he had a break day between streams), where he was picking up Dream Daddy again. In the end, he didn't seem to get past meeting every Dad, so he had quite the way to go.

A little after he started the stream, maybe even minutes, he caught Eddie in chat.

eddie.kaspbrak: dream daddy again?

"Eddie!" he exclaimed with a grin, "-Yes, we are romancing the Dads, yet again."

eddie.kaspbrak: you didn't even get to that last time

eddie.kaspbrak: you were spending too much time picking out shitty facial hair

Richie laughed a little, watching as more chats filled the space and he maybe felt a little disappointed that Eddie was washed away in it. Which was fucking weird, but that was just between Richie and himself, so who cares.

"Hey, motherfuckers," he chimed, raising his hands -routinely, "-how are we doing today?"

They got into the game pretty early this time, and Richie took it upon himself to voice every character differently -flawlessly he will add.

"Wait," he spoke, suddenly, "-we can fuck Robert?"

Richie stared at the screen a second, before flashing over to chat, "Guys, should we fuck Robert?"

Clown horn.

geez.zee donated $5: fuck robert

"Thank you, Zee," he chimed, instinctively, before taking on a more heroic (dramatic really) voice, "-For you, I shall fuck Robert!"

They were finally at the portion where you could pick dates, and Richie was exaggeratively rubbing his chin. Eyes darting over the list, they hovered over a few of them.

"This is the café guy, right?" Richie questioned, reading out the name -mouse ontop of him, "-Mat? The one we chose the pun for?"

The chat told him yes.

"Okay," he acknowledged, biting at his lip, "-Chat, I think I want to be a monsterfucker."

reddy.bevvy: you could also be a homewrecker

"Bev," he clicked his tongue, eyes moving over to Joseph (the married Dad), "-you do have a point."

benny.boy: neither of them is your type though, rich

"Ben, Benny, my beloved," Richie responded, "-It's about the fantasy of it. It's fucking boring if I do that."

Before he could say much else, a horn interrupted it.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $1: what is your type?

Richie grinned, big and bright, batting his eyelashes, "Eds, my oh my, are you flirting with lil' ole me?"

He got a few more clown honks for that, and yeah, he expected it. Respected it, even.

"If you're not a dude though," he added, "-sorry, it won't work out. I'm into strictly dicks. If I wasn't, I'd be married to Bev."

reddy.bevvy: 😘😘😘

eddie.kaspbrak: fuck you trashmouth

There was a pause.

eddie.kaspbrak: and I am a dude for the record, obviously

eddie.kaspbrak: why would I watch your shitty fucking gameplay if I wasn't

"I'm getting mixed signals here, Spaghetti," Richie commented, mimicking picking petals off a flower, "-He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not-"

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $1: i asked you a question dipshit

"I dunno, Eds," he laughed, "-if you keep paying me, I might just put it off forever. Plus," he motioned to his monitor, "-Chat already knows."

itty.bitty-mettle: Robert

cryingandscreaming: Robert fs

toziers-trash: he's fucked up so probably Robert

jiggy.saws: Robert hands down

letdown-urhair: he always goes for brunettes and he's a freak so Robert

too.tough.to.cry: screaming why is everyone saying the same thing

the_girls.girl: Robert but like a twink

your._.mom: you'd think it was Joseph but it's Robert

bouncing-baby-boy: Robert bc he's a dick

Richie motioned to chat again, dramatically making prayer hands with a melodic tone, "The chat has spoken."

He took a second like that, before switching back to normal -answering genuinely, "But yeah, Spaghetti, teeny little brunettes who are mean to me."

stan.the.man: he is being 100% honest by the way believe me

Eddie decidedly didn't say anything else. Not that Richie was waiting or anything. Because he wasn't.

"Well," he cleared his throat, strictly not disappointed, "-mods, let's run a poll. Monsterfucker or homewrecker, chat?"

[andizzlethesimmaofficial]

Happy Grad SZN! Shoutout to all the graduates out there. Whether you graduated from college, high school, pre-k, or a life experience, I'm proud of you.

This post correlates with the Graduation Gameplay Ideas Video I did on my YouTube channel (AndizzleTheSimma).

Check it out Here!

In that video, I showcased some of the fun things I love to do with my graduating sims, sparking some creativity and gameplay activities for the simmers out there who would love to add some pizzazz to their sim's graduation celebrations and festivities.

This post links you to different mods, cc, and gameplay concepts that I discussed/showcased in the video.

If you haven't already, make sure you check out that video. I had a grand time making it, and it's so fun to watch!

Also, while you're on my channel, hit that subscribe button! You'll be subscribed to the Andizzle The Simma crew, and you can get notifications for when I post more awesome Sims content! I genuinely appreciate your support. Shout out to you!!!!!

Alright, let's get into these mods and stuff like that.

Here you go and enjoy!

*some of these items come from packs, but you may be able to find cc to replace them if you don't have those packs!*

*Some of these mods may require different mods according to the creators standards. Be sure to read the full descriptions of the mods on their page to ensure you have everything you need for them to function properly!

*Download mods with your own discernment. Some mods may need updating as time passes. Check-in on the mod's page for messages and updates from the mod's creator as needed.

Graduation Pictures

RVSN ISO Camera

Backdrop and Tripod: Moschino Stuff

Graduation Outfit

Posing

Pose Player

Teleporter Mod (if it's not at the top of the page, scroll down)

Here's a video to help you learn how to use the pose player and teleporter mod [x].

Pose Packs Used 1 and 2

Photo Gifts and Displays

RVSN Photographic Memory

Photo Frames [1] & [2]

Graduation Party

Activities

Card Table: Base Game

Water Balloon Tub: Seasons

Gift Pile: Seasons

Keg Stand: University

Decorations

Balloons and Party Streamers from Party Essentials Kit

Food

Littlbowbub

Littlbowbub Cookbook

Beef Patty and Coco Bread

Ubrite Cake

Insimnia

Lays Chips (subscribe to be a free member! Also, consider paying for their Patreon, if you'd like. They are an awesome creator!)

Somik and Severinka

The Hennyyyy

Drink Tray Mod

LittleMsSam

Improved Drink Tray Mod

TianaSims

Deviled Eggs

Extras

Facepaint: I think it came from Discover University, or I used the sunscreen from the base game and changed the hues of the face paint.

Mod for fewer credits needed to graduate: https://www.patreon.com/posts/41632608

MC Command Center: https://deaderpool-mccc.com

Instructions for Instant Degree: click the sim you want to give a degree to, select MC Command Center> MC Cheats> Cheat Sim Info> Expansion Cheats> Discover University> award specific degree.

Thanks, lovely! Enjoy!

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals: Jack's Lament

Can you feel me practically vibrating out of my skin???

On one hand, I'm a little sad because this is the last video I'll probably be making a post about for a while (though by the time you see this, Geoff might have uploaded a new video that I can actually talk about the visuals for (EDIT from future me: he did!), and if so, you'll be seeing a post for that one tomorrow), but on the other hand, this is my third (though in no particular order/ranking) favourite Geoff video on his channel so far, and I am so excited to finally be able to make a post for it!

Geoff's cover of Jack's Lament debuted on the 8th of October, 2023, though I didn't see it pop up in my YouTube recommended until the 29th (if you remember from my Hellfire post, I wasn't initially subscribed to Geoff or Voiceplay, and both channels somehow ended up dropping off my radar for a while. Jack's Lament was the first from either channel that I had seen in at least a year, and as soon as I saw that thumbnail, I knew it was going to be amazing, but oh my GOD it was even better (and with me stumbling upon Hellfire the very next day, well let's just say I was pulled even deeper down the Geoff/Voiceplay rabbithole than I had been the first time around 😅).

Anyway, I'm not sure if I'll hit image limit on this one, or how much actual commentary I may have, but regardless, let's freaking go!

One hell of an opening shot, not gonna lie. Geoff's very-skeletal-looking hands playing the piano (in a beautiful way, might I add), immediately sets a very spooky/eerie vibe!

And this is one hell of an establishing shot! I mean goddamn there is a lot to take in here! Though one thing I will point out (that I actually only just noticed myself ^^;) is the Haunted Mansion headstone on the left, memorialising Madame Leota!

(Also shoutout to Pattycake Production Studios where this was filmed!)

I of course have to give a MASSIVE shoutout and kudos to Rick Underwood for the makeup job in this one, like holy christ he really outdid himself here! (and I can't thank him enough)

Ngl, if I don't come up with any other ideas between now and October, then I kinda wanna dress as "Jack Skellington Geoff" (Geoff Caskellington? 🤔), makeup and all (or just attempt the face makeup at least)

And seriously take a look at his hands! If it weren't for the super-high-definition closeup of his hands on the piano at the start, you'd be forgiven for thinking those are just really well-fitting gloves, but nope! An amazing airbrush job from Mr Underwood!

Also, if you look at his neck and chest in both this image and the previous one, you'll notice that he's got airbrushing going on there too, highlighting (or more accurately, shading) his ribs and other bones!

Finally, on the subject of the body paint job, if you've been paying attention to some of my other Geoff posts (and some of my Voiceplay posts), you might notice what's missing...

No necklace, and no rings! Had to remove them for costume/makeup/character purposes, rip. Must have felt a bit weird without them, but all that paint must have felt weird too, so maybe the weird feelings cancelled each other out? 😅

(His acting in this is of course 10/10 👌)

This video is one that I do actually know involved Geoff deliberately colouring his hair to make it grey, and it still looks as lovely as ever!

(Also this picture is a better one to check out the airbrushed detailing on his chest! (if you're gonna leave a couple of shirt buttons undone and your chest exposed, might as well take advantage of it! 😁))

The "moon" in this video is apparently just some big spotlight with a moon cover on it or something? Apparently you can fairly easily find them online or something, and you can in fact see the pole it's attached to underneath in this image here, but you likely wouldn't notice the pole if you weren't looking for it, and the usage of the moon is 100% perfect! (I've seen/heard one or two people wishing the moon was yellow like in the movie, but eh, it probably wouldn't have fitted the overall colour scheme of the video as much)

I had to include the "jumpscare" of course I had to! 😁

Also I can't get any good screencaps of it, but the way Geoff shifts from sombre on "a longing that I've never known," to more theatric/dramatic on "I'm a master of fright, and a demon of light" is so good, and the acting/choreography is absolute chefs kiss

"Bonjour!"

(For those of you not familiar with the original, the line "and I'm know throughout England and France" is part of the original song, but the "bonjour!" bit is not 😆)

A Geoff head not connected to the body! It's happened again! 😂

Also it's cool the way Geoff is quickly jumping/flashing from one point to another, reminds me of his Headless Horseman video

"No animal, nor man, can SCREAM like I can!"

What can I say, it's a very cool effect! Really ups the "oomph" factor of the little belt moment!

Tiny pumpkins/jack-o-lanterns in his eyes!!

"But who here, would ever understand..."

(I'm not even at half the maximum image limit yet, so I'm 100% just throwing in an extra screencap (or two) just because 😁)

Geoff pats the side of his leg to call for Zero the ghost dog, just in in the scene in the movie! (Also shoutout to Kathy, who I believe helped with puppeteering for this bit?)

"...that the pumpkin king, with the skeleton grin,"

(Freaking obsessed with this video, I tell ya!)

"The fame and praise, come year after year, does nothing for these empty tears"

This is the last shot before we see the gramophone logo (a very gorgeous shot btw), but there's a little bit of a bonus bit for those who stick around for the Patron credits!!

It starts to snow! Like at the end of the movie! It's a sign of hope and good things to come! <3

The original song is good for the movie, sure, but Geoff's cover feels like it has so much more depth (in more ways than one!) and emotion! And his vocal range is ugh god absolutely stunning and mindblowing! I cannot get enough, can never get enough!

But anyway, I hope you've been enjoying my Voiceplay/Voiceplay-adjacent posts! If there are any videos I've skipped over that you actually would like me to make a post on, please let me know! (And don't worry, I am planning to do all the 2017-onwards Christmas videos for both channels eventually - maybe as a Christmas In July thing?) I'm typing this on the 22nd of February, and if Voiceplay uploads a video in March that I wanna make a post on (nope), well you reading this will have already seen that post, and if Geoff uploads something in March that I wanna talk about (he did), then you'll see that post tomorrow (you will!). But otherwise, thanks for reading!

[stacksandkicks]

MUSIC: NEW #BOWWOW "BOWARD WOWARD" FREESTYLE

A legend for sure Bow Wow gives those that may have forgot a reminder of who he is where he’s from and that yes he can deliver them bars. With his “Boward Woward” freestyle the Ohio native sets the record straight on his influence impact and what he’s done in the business for over 20 plus years from tv screens to silver screens. Hit the like and subscribe button to stay tapped in enjoy the flow…

[monsterkong]

The Importance of Detail in Business Success

Have you ever felt like something was off in your business, but you just couldn’t pinpoint what? You might be overlooking those small, tedious details that seem insignificant but can have a huge impact. In my experience, the small things are often the biggest game-changers. Ignore them, and you’ll see things start to slip. Tackle them head-on, and you’ll sleep soundly at night knowing your foundation is rock-solid. 🏗️

The Unsexy, But Essential Work

A recent conversation with a highly successful client reaffirmed this idea for me. This guy runs multiple businesses across the UAE and the U.S., and he thrives on structure and foundations. In fact, he loves focusing on the details that most people shy away from. It’s a mindset shift, really: the things you avoid today might be the very things that will save you tomorrow.

Whether it’s a loose bolt in your car or a small issue in your business infrastructure, it’s often the overlooked components that can bring everything crashing down.

🛑 Quick Tip: If you’re constantly pushing something to the bottom of your to-do list, ask yourself why. Is it because it feels tedious? Because you don’t fully understand it? Identifying and tackling those tasks will make a world of difference.

What This Means for You

In our agency, we prioritize the details. We’ve learned that dissecting the things nobody else wants to look at is what separates us from the competition. That’s why we offer a full suite of services designed to take the stress out of your business operations. From content creation to advertising and even web design, we do the work that allows you to focus on the bigger picture.

💼 Ready to Get Started? If you're interested in how we can help you secure your business’s foundation, reach out to us at Syslo Ventures. Whether you need content creation, social media management, or a new website, we’ve got you covered.

Thanks for tuning in, and if you haven’t yet, be sure to hit that subscribe button for more tips, insights, and strategies to take your business to the next level!