#I'm printing this shit out and putting it on my wall

[cas-theghostking]

All my love to when he was on steroids for a minuet

[lyxchen]

SOMETHING JUST HEALED IN ME BECAUSE CHARLEY AND YURI KISSED AND IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND THIS IS GOING TO FUEL ME FOR MONTHS!!!!!!!!

[joyfulness03]

THIS GOES SO HARD!!!! OH MY GOD!!

Over 6 months in the making (mostly bc procrastination) but I finally compiled my Kanto Gym Leader Magazine series. I love the idea of an in-universe style fashion publication where they all do interviews about their hobbies and stuff

Want something like this for your own OC? My commissions are open!!

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤEASTER SPECIAL: PAW PRINTS * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where Matt and Y/N spend the early hours of Easter creating baby powder bunny prints on the living room floor and biting into carrots, just to make sure their daughter has the best Easter morning.

FEATURING　dad!Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: Happy easter to everyone who commemorates it 🤍✨️

1:07 AM - Sunday, April 20th

The house was finally quiet.

Well... mostly.

Y/N slowly tiptoed down the stairs, one hand on the wall to steady herself in the dim, cozy glow of the hallway nightlight. Her sock-covered feet barely made a sound on the steps, the wood creaking only the tiniest bit under her weight.

She took it slow - real slow - because she’d just spent the last thirty minutes doing the most exhausting, soul-sucking, patience-testing thing known to parents, putting a toddler to sleep.

And not just any toddler. Their toddler. Three years old. Full of personality. With curls that never stay tamed and a voice that could rival a megaphone at bedtime.

But she was finally asleep.

After four stories, two songs, a stuffed bunny hunt, and one mini meltdown about how she "NEEDED her sparkly Easter socks or the bunny would skip their house".

Y/N was drained.

But as she reached the last step, her tired eyes blinked, adjusting to the soft light of the living room, and what she saw instantly erased all of her exhaustion.

There, standing on the hardwood floor, was Matt.

Messy brown curls flopping down into his eyes. His favorite red sweater - that she was 99% sure had been balled up on the laundry chair an hour ago - now pulled over his tall frame, wrinkled and crooked at the collar like he’d thrown it on in the dark. His black sweatpants hung low on his hips, one leg slightly tucked into his sock without him even noticing.

He looked so sleepy.

Like, painfully sleepy. Eyes heavy. Shoulders low. But he was moving around with purpose, his hands busy with a bottle of their daughter’s baby powder, a half-eaten carrot, and the softest little bunny ear headband looped around his wrist.

Y/N squinted.

"Matt?" She whispered, barely above a breath.

He jumped a little and spun around with big blue eyes like he’d been caught breaking into his own house.

"Shit- you scared me, angel." He whispered back, his voice all raspy and deep and tired.

"What... what are you doing?" She asked, tiptoeing closer, trying not to laugh.

Matt looked down at his hands, then at the floor in front of him. There was a perfect trail of tiny powdery bunny prints starting at the kitchen door, leading all the way toward the couch. Some were tilted like the bunny had hopped, some overlapped like it got excited. He had obviously made them with his own feet and hands, dipped in powder.

"I’m... making evidence." He shrugged.

Y/N tilted her head.

"Evidence?"

"That the bunny was here." Matt said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, holding up the carrot like a prop. "She’s gonna freak out when she sees it. You think it looks real?"

Y/N blinked at the mess on the floor. The powdery mess. His hands were literally coated in white. So were his feet. His sweater had smudges, too. His hair was sticking up in four directions. And yet, she felt her heart melt right into the floor.

"You stayed up for this?"

Matt nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I mean... she’s been talking about it all week. I told her the Easter Bunny leaves footprints. You should’ve seen her face when I said that. I couldn’t-" He yawned mid-sentence. "I couldn’t let her wake up and not find anything."

Y/N smiled, her eyes softening. She walked over and gently grabbed the carrot from his hand, inspecting the bite marks in it.

"Did you really nibble it?"

Matt looked mildly offended.

"Duh. You think the bunny would leave a full carrot behind?"

She snorted, covering her mouth to avoid waking their daughter.

"You’re such a dork."

"You married this dork." He mumbled sleepily, stepping in baby powder again and crouching down to press another bunny paw onto the floor.

"I did." She whispered, crouching beside him. "And I’d do it again. Especially if I knew you’d look this cute at 1am while preparing our house for Easter morning."

He glanced at her sideways.

"You think this is cute?"

Y/N reached up and gently brushed some powder off his cheek, smiling with the little scrunch his nose instantly created.

"Absolutely. You look like the world's most exhausted Easter Bunny."

Matt leaned in closer, nose almost brushing hers.

"Might be. Definitely the hottest one, though."

She giggled, giving him a quick kiss on the tip of his nose before sitting back on her heels.

"Okay, lemmd help. Gimme the powder."

It didn't take any second thought from Matt. The next minute, they were both sitting cross-legged on the floor, whispering quietly about their day, dipping their hands and feet into the baby powder and making more tracks. Matt would press one paw down, and Y/N would do the next.

At one point, Matt reached over and smeared powder across her forearm, and she gasped like she'd always do when he threw snowballs at her on winter mornings.

"You wanna start a war?" She whispered playfully.

"Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time." He grinned.

They were careful. Matching the spacing, tilting the paws slightly, even leaving a few little white "fur" smudges on the baseboards like the bunny had rubbed against them.

They placed her Easter basket beside the couch, overflowing with chocolate, candy, plushies, and one little sparkly egg with a note tucked inside that read:

"Thanks for the socks. I love them.

Hoppy Easter!

- Mr. Bunny"

By the time they were done, Matt had powder on his neck, Y/N’s black leggings were speckled white, and the kitchen smelled like baby lotion. They stood in the middle of their living room at 1:38am, looking down at the chaos they created like two kids who just got away with something.

"She’s gonna scream when she sees this." Y/N whispered.

Matt wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side.

"She definitely will."

Y/N looked up at him, and he looked down at her with the most soft eyes, a sleepy smile taking over him pink lips.

Matt reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You did good today." He murmured.

"So did you."

He pressed a kiss to her lips, heavy eyelashes brushing against her cheekbone.

"Let’s go to bed before she wakes up at 6am and demands chocolate for breakfast."

Y/N groaned, already dreading it.

"Please, no. I need, like, five more hours of sleep, or I’ll turn into a ficking villain bunny."

"Too late." Matt grinned, guiding her toward the stairs. "You already married me. That makes you the main character and the villain."

"Shut up, Easter Bunny."

They walked up the stairs holding hands, powdery footprints behind them, and carrot crumbs on the floor.

7:12 AM - Easter Morning

"Mommy!"

"Daddy!!"

"MOMMY DADDY COME LOOK!!"

Y/N jolted awake first, instinctively reaching across the bed to Matt, who was already halfway sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Was that her?" He mumbled, voice thick and scratchy with sleep, fingernails scratching his beard covered jaw.

Y/N blinked.

"She’s... shouting?"

Before either of them could fully process it, their daughter burst through the bedroom door with a slam, her tiny pink pajama set covered in glittery bunnies and one sock halfway off her foot. Her curls were a disaster. Her face was glowing.

"HE CAME!" She screamed, full volume, absolutely breathless.

Matt sat up straighter.

"Who came?!"

"THE BUNNY!" She shrieked, bouncing in place like her little body couldn’t physically contain the excitement. "THE EASTER BUNNY! HE WAS HERE! HE WAS HERE, DADDY!"

Y/N pressed a hand to her chest, trying not to laugh, feeling her heart melt with the genuine smile on her daughter's face.

"What?? Baby, what do you mean?"

"There’s FOOTPRINTS!!" She gasped, eyes so wide they barely blinked. "And a carrot with BITES! And a note! And he said thank you for my socks! HE KNEW I gave him the socks! He actually KNEW!"

Matt dramatically gasped.

"No way."

"Yes way! Come see! Come see right now! I didn’t even open my basket yet ‘cause I needed you to see the proof first!" She yelled like it was an emergency.

Matt threw the blanket off with fake panic.

"Okay, okay, okay! We’re coming!"

Y/N was already getting out of bed, tying her soft beige robe around her waist, trying not to laugh as their daughter literally sprinted out of the room again. Her little feet slapped the floor with speed that didn’t match her size.

"IT’S REAL! I TOLD YOU IT’S REAL! I’M GONNA DIE!!"

Matt looked at Y/N, eyes half-closed, hair a mess.

"She said she’s gonna die."

Y/N bit her lip, grinning.

"You made her whole universe."

Matt walked to her with gentle steps and kissed her cheek, his beard tickling her soft skin.

"We made it."

They followed the giggles and gasps downstairs.

And there she was. Standing in the middle of the living room. Hands in the air. Eyes sparkling. One finger pointing at the powdery footprints and the messy trail leading to the half-nibbled carrot beside the basket.

"LOOK!" She shouted, turning to face them with her arms out like she had just discovered treasure. "LOOK WHAT HE DID! HE HOPPED RIGHT THROUGH OUR HOUSE! AND THEN HE ATE THE CARROT! DADDY, HE ATE IT!!"

Matt gasped again and dropped to his knees beside the scene, his legs cracking with the movement.

"This is some serious bunny activity."

"I know!!" She yelled, practically vibrating. "He even LET IT ON THE WALLS! That means he was REAL FLUFFY!"

Y/N knelt beside them both, brushing hair out of her daughter’s face and smiling so big her cheeks hurt.

"And he left you something too, huh?"

Her daughter’s eyes widened all over again, and she spun toward the basket.

"MY BASKET!!"

She tore into it like her life depended on it, candy flying, plushies squeaked, glitter eggs cracked open. But the loudest gasp came when she saw the note inside the shiny sparkly egg.

She clutched it like it was a signed autograph.

"He WROTE TO ME! With his paw-hands! Bunnies don’t even write, but he DID!"

Matt dramatically leaned in.

"He must’ve learned just for you."

Her eyes filled with wonder.

And then, with her curls bouncing and her whole body shaking with joy, she launched herself at Matt, wrapping her arms around his neck so tight he almost tipped backward.

"Thank you, daddy." She whispered.

Matt blinked.

"What?"

She looked up at him with a shy, soft smile.

"I know you helped him create this big, big plan. You're his bestest friend, right?"

Y/N's heart squeezed.

Matt pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Bunnies never tell."

Y/N scooted close and wrapped her arms around both of them.

"We need to call uncle Nick and uncle Chris!"

© vanteguccir

[sturnlsstuff]

imagine ghostface!chris fucking you with the handle of his knife

you are completely on another planet, your legs shaking from the amount of orgasms you have had in the past minutes. you didn't think that what was happening could turn you on so much, but it did - now chris knew it too, his smirk never leaving his face, watching your reactions and hearing the increasingly louder moans leaving your mouth.

"looook at that, how you're creamin' around my fuckin' knife, holyyyy shit—" he licks his lips, watching as your pussy perfectly sucks the handle of his knife in, the wet squelching echoes through the room. "how does it feel, hm? good?" his tone was dripping with mockery, obviously knowing that it must feel amazing. you just nod, words stucking in your throat when chris puts more pressure against your clit, circling it harder with his thumb. "feelin' it deep?"

"y-yes—" your grip on the sheets tightens, back arching upwards as you try to get more friction. chris watches as the handle of his knife slides in and out your sensitive cunt, soaked in your arousal, some even dripping on his hand. his relentless pace makes your toes curl.

"open your eyes, y'know i love seeing you when you 'bout to cum—" his tone low, hoarse with his own desire. you're fully aware that when you do it, you'll be gone for. though you obey anyway, your eyes fluttering open and glancing at the ghostface mask he had on. chris was between your legs, spreading them apart with his body, his hand fucking his knife into you while the other one keeps playing with your swollen bud. "--theeere you go, such a good fuckin' girl."

every thrust overwhelms you with pleasure, mouth slack opened as you let out more sweet noises, that were already printed in chris's brain. your walls clench around the thing as you weakly try to warn him, "c-chris, i'm so— close— mmmh, oh— right... there--"

"fuck, so pretty when you're like this-" he groans, his thumb rubbing more desperately around your clit. "come alllll over my knife, princess— so fuckin' naughty, jesus--"

he overstimulates you, hitting your g-spot so good with each movement that tears were running down your cheeks, broken cries leaving your mouth. "shittt, look at you..." he admires your little expressions, the way you're not able to keep looking at him and at some point your eyes roll back, body starts to shake even more and he can only see your hole leaking cum around the handle of his knife.

"fuck, i could do this all night long—" he looks back at your face, pleasure written all over it. he doesn't even slow down as you ride out your orgasm, gasping for air. "what you think, princess? can gimme a little more?"

[doggrowth]

Arcane art prints!!

(guess who's my favourite)

Below will have all the info on the artists/where to buy/reviews

The Gay People Bookmarks - These are from @peachesobviously on Etsy. The quality of these are amazing. They're thick and like... soft. They feel so so nice and look great.

This gorgeous print is from @kingcael from their Ko-fi shop :) This came super fast and is so so pretty. Nice, glossy paper. I love staring at it and finding more and more details.

This masterpiece is from @petitesieste aka Arcanescribbles :) Check out her Instagram to see this art in HQ. I'm so happy to own her work now. This is a gorgeous piece from inprnt. The colours and details are amazing. (Scribs, you should post this art on here)

I have some miscellaneous stuff from inprnt. This is my second time purchasing from inprnt. Their shipping can get expensive and I'm not a huge fan of the texture of the paper on my fingers. But they look gorgeous. The colours are so vibrant and the image quality is great.

"Please don't let them see me" is from Pob Pob's carrd

"Blonde Viktor" is from @minherald (inprnt link)

The two screencap studies are from Bishipls on Instagram.

Mel is from @hansoeii (inprnt link)

Timebomb is from Kaapicino (gorgeous work)

(sorry for the shit screenshot but you'll just have to go to their page to see it in HQ :)

From @cerealism on Etsy. I fucking love this. The colours of it are gorgeous. The embossing is incredible. Such high quality. They've got some jayvik art (and BG3 if that's your thing) on there too!

Works from Dandy Angelica. These are beautiful prints. Such care was put into my package. I got a personalized email saying my order was on it's way (rather than an automated one). Truly so sweet. If my shrine wasn't already too big, I'd gladly order again. Here's their Instagram for more stunning work! Tons more Viktor art (and more! Like BG3) (also the eye art is a holographic sticker :D)

Prints from ohmsnwattsonart on Etsy. These are just incredible. The texture on these prints are amazing. They're not smooth or glossy like other prints, but they're just delectable. I fucking love them. They look so good too. Check out their Etsy for other cool art (Arcane, Marvel, SW, etc) <3

Acrylic coasters from jjolee. Here's her carrd to get to her socials and Etsy! These are very nice and not a single cup has touched them because they're too pretty to use! So they sit on my shelf :)

And last, but not least:

This stupid fucking shirt from Etsy. Which I was hesitant to buy from in case the quality would be shit. But it's pretty nice! Let's hope it holds up in the wash :)

I didn't wanna buy the Glorious Ovulation/Jesus/Hozier one. They're too obscure and I'm already too socially awkward to confidently wear this one outside. But. I'm so happy with it. It's so dumb. Plus the shirt will fold over or crinkle and then he'll look ssilly or scared.

That's all! Support artists however you can. RIP my credit card and my wall space. Especially because I still want. So much more. Please pray for me that I don't lose the hyperfixation now that I've got my shrine all sorted.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 30

part 1 | part 29 | ao3

cw: Steve Harrington committing unforgivable thought crimes (besmirching LotR)

"Uh," Steve stammers as Eddie tugs him off the couch, because he just propositioned the guy while covered in snot and tears and wearing a blanket as a cape, and now that guy is holding his hand.

Eddie doesn't let go after he gets him to his feet. Their fingers lace together, and his palm is soft and warm, his fingers slightly callused. Steve can feel his own pulse pounding in his wrist.

"Simmer down," Eddie teases, "I'm not having sex with you. Yet," he adds with a lewd waggle of his brows when Steve puppy-dog pouts at him. "This is better than sex, anyway."

"If you're having shit sex, maybe.” Steve rolls his eyes and lets himself be dragged past a messy counter, where Eddie stops to grab a black lunch box and a cassette tape, a tissue for Steve’s face, then down the hall to Eddie's bedroom.

"My kingdom," he grins as he shoves the door open and waves Steve through with a bow.

His room is amazing. Awesome and terrible all at once: awesome, because it looks like someone put Eddie’s essence in a blender and ran the blades without a lid, and terrible, because the place is a fucking pigsty. There’s a bag of bread on the floor.

Eddie tells him to make himself at home, so Steve plops down on the edge of his bed, takes in the explosion of artwork tacked to the walls while Eddie buzzes around the room — swoops and swoons like a drunken bee, kicking shit into messy piles, sticking a cig in his mouth and forgetting to find the lighter, turning on the stereo. He pops in the cassette, and Steve lets out a surprised laugh when he hears the upbeat strumming.

"Rumours? Really? That's your 'better than sex' cure?"

Eddie cranks the volume. "It's workin’, ain't it?" he mumbles around the unlit cig.

Steve tries to frown and fails. "…Shut up."

Eddie snickers at him; gives him the cutest smile he's ever seen, nose scrunched up, eyes crinkled at the corners, then he tucks the cigarette behind his ear and shakes his hair out with a grimace. “Christ, it’s hot in here." His hands move to the hem of his shirt. "Look away or don’t, baby, I’m changin’!”

Steve smiles and averts his gaze, falling back on Eddie’s bed and looking at the ceiling with his legs dangled over the edge. In his periphery he can see Eddie hopping gracelessly around the dresser, trying to tug his foot out of the end of his skinny jeans, cursing under his breath; dropping all the ‘g’s off the ends of his words.

"I like your Southern accent."

"Do ya now?" Eddie throws it on thick, really hamming it up, "Well then, I reckon it's plum near the most attractive dad-gum thing y’ever did hear 'round these here pawrts."

Steve honks a mortifyingly stupid laugh, which makes Eddie laugh like a chime in a windstorm, which just makes Steve laugh even more, and maybe Eddie was right.

Maybe this is better than sex.

He wipes at his eyes, misty for a good reason for the first time all night, and when he looks up again Eddie’s dressed in his pajamas. Dark gray gym shorts, a black cut-off tank, the arm holes deep and loose to expose his armpit hair, his ribs.

Steve’s mouth goes dry.

Eddie’s wiry and pale, firm muscle wrapped around his string-bean frame, and he's covered in tattoos — black line art and gray shading, fantastical beasts and staffs and swords, a crazily-detailed set of serpent scales snaking up his side. But it's his legs that catch Steve's eye.

His legs are covered in words. Words and doodles everywhere, from his calves to his thighs, the lines wobbly and thick like Eddie put them there himself. There are quotes in sloppy cursive, longer ones in blocky print; a few stylized to look like comic book dialog, the words POW! and DANGER outlined in spiky bubbles above his knee. Steve wants to trace the lines; rehearse him like a poem, learn each ink stroke with his fingers until he can recite them all by heart.

Eddie catches him staring and gives a small, pleased grin. “Like what you see?”

Steve’s tongue feels too big for his mouth. “Yeah. I really do.”

The smile widens. Eddie clambers onto the bed, stepping over Steve’s head and plopping down beside him with his back against the wall, one leg drawn up, the other stretched out long and loose.

Steve shifts to lay the same direction, and his shoulder brushes Eddie’s leg, his wrist ghosting against his ankle bone. He doesn’t pull away; likes the look of their skin tones side by side — the smooth desert landscape of his inner arm, accented only by a few veins and moles; the riot of ink and art all along Eddie’s shin. Eddie’s feet are bare, and they’re wide, a little hairy (reminds Steve of Dustin’s nerdy ring book, and he almost says as much, but he knows Eddie’s even more obsessed with that shit than the kids are. He really doesn’t want the dude to pop a brain boner and spend the next four hours lecturing Steve about jewelry lore.)

“What are you giggling at down there?” Eddie nudges at his elbow.

“Nothing,” Steve says, and Eddie responds “All right then, keep your secrets” in a silly character voice. He stretches to the side and grabs a joint off the bedside table.

“Now,” he says, voice slipping into that deep, slow sing-song thing he does — his sales pitch tone, Steve realizes. “This part is, of course, completely optional, but. In my humble, expert opinion—”

“So humble,” Steve teases under his breath.

“—It really enhances the whole experience.”

“The Stevie Nicks Therapeu- thera-” Oh, screw it. “Un-saddening Experience?”

“That is correct.” He holds it out over Steve’s face, wiggling it in offering, and Steve thinks about his conversation with Robin over brunch:

"I can't believe you did coke.” "I can't believe you smoked weed." "I know." "Was it okay?" He hasn't tried weed since... "Yeah," she answers seriously. "Yeah, it was okay. It was nice, actually."

“Okay,” he decides. I trust you. “Let’s do it.”

Eddie puts the joint between his lips and lights it up.

—

part 31

listen i know it’s a quote from a movie that will not exist for another 16 years just let me have this. tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[luveline]

jade i don't know if you're taking requests, this could be something super short if you want it to be! i am just dying to see rockstar!eddie and reader at a halloween party. i think he'd look so dreamy

rockstar eddie forever <3 fem, 1k

cw friendly use of the word harlot, rough kisses mdni

"Nice costume." 

You pick your head up where you've draped yourself across the pouffe and smile when you realise who it is. "Thanks, Munson. Yours is better. Super brave." 

"Fuck off." Eddie, very much not in costume, puts a knee between your thighs and bends over the pouffe and your splayed body, careful not to drive the stake in deeper. "Superglue?" he asks, hitting the stake in your chest lightly before putting his hands behind your head like a net to lift you up. "Come on, you'll give yourself a migraine." 

"My hero," you croon, sitting up at his insistence. "I have fake blood in my bag, if you want to be my slayer. Or I can just give you a hickey." 

"I'm good, sweetheart. Vampire wasn't outlandish enough for you?" 

"You know I don't stop at what's already been done." 

He snorts and drops your hands, not without kindness. "Where have you been?" your bandmate asks, the curls of his hair dark like oil slick in the red lighting. His pale skin is blushed with blood. 

"Around. Waiting for the hiatus to be well and truly over." 

"Well, you got your wish." He bends down to kiss your cheek. "Missed you, babe. Had a nice vacation?" 

"I did! Saw the 'rents, saw the world." 

"Don't tell me you stayed here?" he asks, gesturing to the walls of Jamison's lavish house with disgust. "The point was to get away from each other." 

"I like his company." 

"You let him fuck your brains out," Eddie corrects. 

"Come on, Edward, you know I only have eyes for you." You bring his hand to your lips and kiss the bone of his wrist, leaving behind a dark lipstick print and a more syrupy splodge of fake blood. "Your refusal to commit the sin of interband relationships is bumming me out." 

"Well, we can't have that," he says, knee again between your thighs, unafraid to rough you up a little as his hands get acquainted with the slopes of your cheeks, pressing your skin back to get an unfettered look at your blood-splattered face. "Once I kiss you, that's it. Not turning back." 

You beam. "Holy shit," you say, breathless, chest heaving in your tight corset and eyes like hearts as he smirks at you. "I don't wanna turn back." 

"You really didn't fuck Jamison?" he asks, eyes heady as they pour into yours. It's hard to distinguish the irises of his eyes from his pupils, the dark of them like dimes in the red-light. 

Eddie has a talent for removing the rest of the room. Whenever you're together, on stage, behind a camera, you have eyes for him and only him, and he's known that for a while. This will they won't they flirting has been a fun pregame but you're ready for the climax, the culmination, the bite of his rings digging in as he bites your lip. Your breath hitches as you think it, giving a wordless nod. "Of course I didn't fuck Jamison," you say, fighting to keep your voice smooth, soft. 

"I know," he says, leaning down. 

The wood of your stake aches between your sternum as his chest hits it, digging in, the kiss of a new bruise as his lips inch closer and closer. You can't close your eyes; you don't believe him. He won't really kiss you. 

"What?" he asks, blinking at your still-open eyes in milk confusion. "Don't want me to?" 

"You're stabbing my heart." 

Eddie rolls his eyes, yanking the stake off of your corset with a cropped ripping sound. "You're always so dramatic." 

"There's gonna be a real bruise there, I'll show you–" 

You lose your sentence as he kisses you. You truly aren't expecting it. Here, now? At some lame party in the Hills, where the biggest celebrities are literally him and the lesser known members of Cat's Club? You always thought Eddie would kiss you on stage in a throw of passion, or slammed up against a wall, a tour bus, a hotel bathroom door. This kiss is tame in comparison, though his knee juts between your legs and the grip he has on your face is as biting as you imagined, lines of rings embedding themselves in your soft cheeks, his lips stickied by the glucose blood and your wet lipstick. You grab a handful of his curls and there, as you've always imagined, is the scratch of his teeth as he pulls the flesh of your top lip between them and pulls. 

You're startled as he kisses it better. Dizzied as he sighs into your lips, a sound that feels like praise. You give into the pressure of his kiss and let your lips part under his, heat like nothing you've ever felt passed between you. His nose digs into yours, the bridge sliding hard as he turns his head this way and that, like he's trying to kiss you dumb. 

"Is it the costume?" you ask as he pulls away for breath, wide-eyed, startled and wanting and needing him closer. 

He tugs at your corset strings teasingly. "It's fucking everything. We were on a hiatus for two weeks and the whole time I'm wishing I kissed you before I left. You're gonna let me do it again, right?" 

"Uh, duh." 

Eddie practically rags you up off of the pouffe to the couch just behind it, "Think we can make everybody else leave?" 

"No–" He cuts you off again with a kiss, two rough kisses, a third, hands at your waist and pressing into you hard, lips pressing harder as he wades in, a laugh humming between your lips. White hot delight and the stupid delirium of giving in, no more than four kisses before he's being pulled off of you by the collar. 

"We have one fucking rule," Jeff says, Jamison with a handful of Eddie's shirt at his side having broken through the partygoers. 

You smile lazily and lay back in the couch cushions, a picture of ardency, fake blood smeared by kisses across your face and up one cheek, your corset ripped.

"Fucking look at her, man, what was I supposed to do? I'm but a mere human," Eddie says. He's whining, but he's grinning at you like he usually does when you conspire against the others, like you're his very favourite person on earth. "Fuck. Let me at 'er." 

You laugh more at his ridiculous overplay. Gareth stomps on his foot as Jamison chucks a pillow at your chest. 

"Harlot. You're a fucking siren." 

"I really don't get why you're all so mad," you say, delighted at finally having gotten what you wanted. 

Eddie winks at you. "Jealousy, babe. S'all it is. Jamie, man, unhand me. Me and Y/N have unfinished business. She has a bruise she wants to show me." 

"I'm sure she does. Idiots." 

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The Cardinal Who Lifts Weight

Featuring Cardinal Joseph W. Tobin

For about a year, us guys at the gym just called him Joe. He would get his reps in during his early morning workouts a few feet from me under or close to the wall clock. When I would glance at the clock, his eyes would often meet mine. I began to notice his entrancing eyes, and I would find myself admiring his stocky 6' 3”, 70-year-old figure. His graying brown hair covered by a skull-printed do-rag, which I found oddly appealing. He was friendly and would greet me by name when we walked past each other.

Meanwhile, while I suspected he might be interested, I would resolve to not convey any gay vibe to encourage him. The tension I was feeling was distracting and unwelcome.

One day when he was finishing up and getting dressed, I commented that I'd always wanted to have thicker thighs like his. He seemed flustered at first, then I elaborated its only men who ever develop nice legs like that and stared at his crotch. He smiled and we shot the shit for a bit before I swallowed all my fears and just asked him if he wanted to "fool around." lol I still can't believe I fucking said that.

“I'm a priest,” Joe quickly answered. “In fact,” He said, his voice growing quieter so no one could hear in earshot, “I’m the archbishop of Newark.”

Apparently, Joe was also known as Cardinal Joseph W. Tobin. A prelate of the Catholic Church and he has been the Archbishop of Newark since 2017. I was surprised as I never would have thought he was a priest. I mean this guy is benching two and a quarter! Still sensing interest as we talked, I moved closer to him until I could easily reach out and touch his leg, which I did. He was still wearing his gym shorts and I got a thrill out of rubbing my hand against his hairy leg.

“I could use some action, but I don’t have a place to go.” He told me.

“Me neither.” I said, not wanting to take him to my apartment.

“You want to come out to the car with me.” The old man leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“Sure.” I said.

“Let me go first. I’ll meet you on the street behind the gym.” The old man said and then got up from his sit.

I watched as he walked out of the gym. God! Did he look wonderful! I got up after I figured he had time to get to his car and quickly followed him out. I found him waiting for me just around the corner of the gym.

“Here’s my car.” He said pointing to a black Chevy Tahoe and proceeded to unlock the door, getting inside the backseat. I hurried around to the other side of the SUV and got in.

Almost immediately, he fished his slightly weathered fingers inside his shorts and pulled out first his short cut dick and then after much struggling his huge set of bull sized balls. I nearly nutted. Something about seeing someone you were lusting after for a year with his dick out tends to do that to you. Joe was surprisingly already hard, stroking his boner while waiting for me to get my cock out. As I did, Joe moved his hand over to grasp my cock and began a gentle massage. I responded in kind and held his hard dick, feeling the warm prong in my grasp. Looking back, I can laugh at the almost hysterical grabbing and fondling of this frantic first encounter.

“I’ll watch out.” He said in a stern voice charged with sexual excitement. Fortunately, the place was deserted, and we were so off the beaten path that I didn't even know where we were, and I knew the place pretty well.

Joe's dick was throbbing when I put my mouth over it and began to suck this old priest off. He hadn't received many blowjobs and seemed delighted to have me pumping up and down on his dick. Joe was so excited that he made me stop a couple of times so he wouldn't cum, even having me stop jiggling his balls as well. He apologized for being so excited, but in the end he lost control anyway as without warning he grabbed me by the hair and forced my head down on it as far as I could take it. He began spurting his musky load into my mouth while groaning loudly as he ran his hands through my hair.

I took it all as he screamed in ecstasy. It was fantastic to know I could give him so much pleasure. He gently released me, still hissing through his teeth and breathing frantically.

"Oh god that felt good." He said as I sat upright.

With that, Joe leaned over and took my 7” cock straight down his throat, right up to my balls, which were aching by this time. The sight of my cock entering his mouth still is, to this day, one of my favorite sights in the world. The sensation was indescribable as he sucked excitedly and gently on my cock. Thankfully, I’ve always taken a long time to cum, so I knew I’d be fine as he went down on me. Joe pushed his head down on my cock as far as he could without gagging. So far in fact, I felt the head rubbing the back of his throat.

After that, I couldn't last with all the pent up sexual tension and I squirmed to let him know I was about to cum and he just said, "I want to taste your cum."

Joe got what he wanted, because he was such a skilled cocksucker that my orgasm raced through my loins in a rush, and my cock spurted what seemed like an ungodly amount of cum into the throat of my gym buddy. And he took it all effortlessly. And when my cock stopped ejaculating, he did his best to empty my nuts, sucking eagerly on my deflating dick while he massaged my balls. I finally had to gently pry him off me, and even after my dick left his mouth he kept licking and flicking the tip of my cock with his tongue while my cum trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

When Joe finally finished, he pulled his head up and looked at me. I know he was wondering how it was so I told him it was fantastic before he could ask.

That's how I got to plowing a straight older guy from my gym in the back seat of my truck. Before any of that, on several occasions we'd exchanged glances. That was my first indication he might be curious.

[fernslivers]

Hello! I don't normally send asks to people, but I wanted to let you know that Modern Mizu au is, I'm pretty sure, the only reason that I am surviving writing my final papers for college, and anytime I get too stressed I reread your fics!

I'm going to print this out and put it on my wall, I'm SOBBING 😭😭😭 THANK YOU ANON ❤️

I have a total of, like 12k words in unfinished fics coming so I promise there's more in the works, both canon and modern.

BUT, in the meantime, here are a few random ones that I've had saved, but didn't have a place to fit into a post yet. Just for you!! 🫰

Holy shit is she clean

This is actually the only source of annoyance to you during the early days of rooming, before you've gotten to know her

Let me leave some junk mail on the table, woman, please

Sword-father was very strict about everything in its place

So now any clutter needs to be organized, no stray bits lying around

She never says anything, but you can see her visibly twitch every time you casually leave a fork lying on the counter

She likes to feed birds on the windowsill, and really tries to keep you from finding out

But that fails when you come home to find her frozen in the act of catching a pigeon that has flown past her through the open window

They both look at you with the same wide-eyed expression when you walk in

You really, really try not to laugh.

No dice, that shit is hilarious

She sulks in her room for the full day, embarrassed, but when she next ventures out, she finds a bag of birdseed sitting outside her door.

Feeding the birds is the first you ever really see her smile.

Turns out she can identify a lot of birds

For all that she's generally fairly neat and economical in her behavior, the exception is food

She eats like she's dying, every time.

At first you thought it was flattering when she housed your dinners, but after a while you've realized that's just her way with everything edible

Delicious full course meal from Ringo? DEVOUR.

Instant ramen while cramming for a test? CHOMP.

Mumbling answers to Ringo's questions through a mouthful of food, trying to stuff in another dumpling while still working on the first, just chow-hounding as fast as she can without caring what she looks like

She isn't chewing with her mouth open or anything gross, like that, just half-choking herself with speed

Once, Ringo reached for a napkin near her plate and you genuinely thought for a moment that she was going to bite him

One of the facts Ringo lets slip is that Mizu is a secret horse girl

“Oh, Mizu loooooves ponies, don't you, Mizu?”

Mizu looks up from her food with an expression that says Ringo’s death will be slow and painful if he doesn't shut up now.

BEST OF LUCK ON YOUR PAPERS ANON!

[strangerxperv]

Something I've had sitting in my notes since October but the people want more Billy. I have other stuff for him but it's not ready so I hope you enjoy this snack.

Mean Dom Billy Hargrove x Cow Reader

Moo

Imagine putting on a cow (moo not yeehaw) girl costume from an obscure shop. The shop is full of costumes, "spells", and "potions" but you suspect nothing because it's October. You hide the costume in the back of your closet and forget about it until Halloween. You never could have expected things to get like this after putting it on.

Your tits were heavier and leaked constantly through the cow print bikini top squares (really only hiding your pretty nipples). Small black and white shorts pulled over your squishy tummy and leaving your plush thighs bare. Atop your head are little fluffy cow ears and gone are your own. Leaky tits aside, why are you this horny and where is Billy you're supposed to leave hours ago for the party.

Not that you'll be able to leave for the party now that you're in this state. You let out a huff and pout at your reflection as tears well up. Your tits are sore and you're desperately in need of relief.

"Mmmm-!" You squeak out when your own soft hands cup a swollen tit, "I-I can't!" You sob and quickly remove your hand causing your breast to jiggle.

"Can't what? What's wrong?" Billy's voice calls out to you as he rounds into your bathroom from the bedroom. You're in his sights in no time and he freezes before, "You are not going to the party dressed like that. Absolutely fucking not!"

His yelling makes you jump then back away as he advances on you one long stride after another. Soon Billy has you against the wall so close your noses are nearly touching, breath mingling.

"No one gets to see you like this." His voice is eerily quiet like he's the calm before a storm. Billy is tense and ready to strike glaring into your eyes. "You're my breeding cow and I don't need anyone seeing your fat tits. If those losers see these then they'll think they can have you." One of his hot calloused hands grip onto your breast and squeezes causing you to cry out.

"Billy!" Tears roll down your pretty chubby cheeks as your makeup smears with them, "T-too much!" You sob and clench your thighs while you squirm under him.

Billy expects this kind of reaction from you but not the sopping wet cloth. Nor does he know how to react to the warm white liquid that spills between his fingers. His blue eyes are wide as he watches it collect then drip onto the bathroom floor.

"What-" His hand plays with your full tit experimentally, "Is that milk?" Billy looks at you expectantly.

"Yeah, I think it's the costume. I can't take the ears off either-" You moan and grab Billy's wrist as your own eyes widen in desperation, "Gently, please! I'm sensitive!"

"Shit, you really are my little breeding cow."

"Bil-" SMACK! His hand lands on your tit with a resounding slap and you squeal.

"Who?"

"Daddy!"

"Good cow. Keep being good and I'll be gentle."

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

thinking about tattoo artist!draken giving me you a tattoo in between and under my your tits im so unwell i want him to suck on my titties so bad HNSKSGDJKHGK okaybye

Hi Mack! Thank you for entrusting me with this awesome ask! I hope you like it! Proofed as much as I could.

WC ::: 2230 (HEY! It was 8 pages and I got it down to 5. So, you're WELCOME!)

C/W ::: MDNI, TattooArtist!Draken x F.reader, unprotected P->V and some other funsies.

You sat in the booth waiting for the artist to come in and start working on you. You'd met him a few times before while going over the finalized print of your design but why hadn't you noticed how sexy he was? He was like some mythological creature.

He walked in backwards and slid the screen all the way to the edge so the small booth was completely shut off from the rest of the shop. "Ok, ready when you are." Draken said as he turned to start getting the ink ready.

"Oh! O-ok, yeah. So, like," you hesitated with your words not wanting to seem like you were too inexperienced. You have tattoos, just not on this part of your body.

"Take your shirt and bra off and lean back and enjoy the ride." He is so fucking cool, you thought.

"Right, enjoy ... enjoy the ride." You began lifting your shirt over your head, watching yourself in the full-length mirror the whole time. Kicking yourself for wearing such a shitty bra (but really what else were you going to do? Wear your best one only for it to get ruined with blood and ink? No. Absolutely not.)

You put your clothes on the extra stool in the corner and wrapped your arms over your chest waiting for his next instructions.

"It's ... heh ... you gonna enjoy the ride or do I have to tat you up while you're standing by the wall? Come on, I'm gentle, I promise.

"Yes! Right right right. Sorry. I'm just a little shy I guess."

I've tattooed much stranger things than tits, trust me. Now sit down."

You moved to sit on the tattoo chair and leaned back. The cool leather made you shiver. Draken placed a paper towel on your chest and told you to relax. He leaned over you to grab the ink and needles. He was so close you could smell him. He smelled like leather, cologne and cigarettes. It made you feel high, breathing him in like that.

He pressed the needle into your skin, making you wince in pain. He pulled away for a second to apply more ink and then went back to work.

After a while, he was about halfway done with the outline. "You doin' ok, y/n? Needa break or anything?" You had zoned out so much that he had to nudge your arm to get your full attention. "Hey! You good?" He laughed.

"Oh shit. Yeah, I guess I just kinda got into a trance. You're very ... rhythmic. It's oddly soothing." You blushed.

"Told you I was good." He beamed. "So you want me to keep going?"

You nodded and put your arms back to your sides where they'd been.

"For this next part, I need you to put your arms above your head. Can you hold them there for a while while I work on the underside of your chest?"

"How long are we talkin' here? 30 minutes? 45?" You couldn't read his face because you didn't know him well enough to. But the look he had was less than comforting.

"Ish? I don't know, honestly. But it's going to be a while. I have a lot of detail to do here. Look, don't ask. Ok? But I can - *aheh* - fuck. I can tie your arms up if this is going to be a problem?" He made a point to look away when he suggested that to you.

And good thing too because the expression that washed over your face would have embarrassed a porn director. You're so proud of yourself for not moaning at the offer.

"YES! Yes. My arms get tired easily. Tie me up, Draken." Your eyes fell to his crotch and the bulge that was presenting itself was nothing short of delicious. You don't know what came over you but you let them roam the length of his chest and met his gaze.

He walked over to a cabinet in the corner and grabbed a few ties. "Which one do you want?" he asked, holding up a few options. You pointed to a soft-looking black one and he tied your arms above the chair. "How's that? Not too tight?"

You shook your head. "No, it's good. Just tight enough." He walked back over to the counter to get the ink and needle ready again. And you know he adjusted his dick. You've seen enough men do that to know what that little dance looks like.

He pressed the needle back into your skin and started on the underside of your tits. He was close enough that you could hear his breath hitch every time he accidentally touched your nipple. And you were certain he was doing it on purpose.

You don't know if it was the drilling of the needle into one of the most sensitive expanses of your body, if it was Draken being so close to you that he could stick his tongue out and flick your nipple with the tip of it. His shallow, labored breathing. His big hands doing such delicate work. But you were getting so fucking wet. And you couldn't help but imagine him sticking his fingers into you. Fucking you with them.

"You're um, doing great. Almost done with this side, are you hot? Do you want some water or something? Want me to crack the window?" he said, breaking the silence.

You nodded, not sure how to respond. "No, I'm uh, I'm doing great, thanks."

He walked over to the window and opened it just a sliver. The air was still warm but it was better than before.

"Thank you." You sighed.

"You're welcome. It's fuckin' hotter than hell in here." He took off his jacket and tossed it over onto your clothes.

You couldn't help but stare at the way his arm muscles flexed as he moved. The tattoos on his right bicep were beautiful and you wanted to trace every inch of them with your tongue.

"SO!" He shouted, startling even himself, he pulled the gun away from you. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that so loud." His cheeks were burning. You wanted to reach out and smooth your fingers over his face. You wanted to sit on it. But that's just crazy, you thought. Draken continued, much quieter this time, "You got a boyfriend? Or ... or girlfriend. Sorry. I forget about that shit sometimes." He chuckled.

"Nope, no boyfriend. No girlfriend either." You said, looking down at his crotch again. You were so horny you could hardly stand it. "So, just me, my shitty bra, and my soon-to-be tatted tits."

He laughed and leaned over you to start on the other side. He was close enough that his breath was hot on your ear. You closed your eyes and let yourself just enjoy the feeling of his weight pressing against you. You were so close that you could have turned your head and kissed him.

But he beat you to it. He stopped what he was doing, sitting the gun down on the tray next to him and he trailed his fingers up over your belly. Lifting them up long enough to skip over your freshly inked skin and he put them down at your collarbone, skimming them to your chin and tilting your face toward him. You tried to put your arms around his neck but you forgot you were all tied up. Literally.

He smiled at the new light of this situation. "You're tied up." Draken's demeanor changed.

You looked into his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"You wanna be free or do you like it?" He said, tracing his fingers up and down your jawline.

"I like it." You blushed. "But I can't touch you. And that's kinda bumming me out." You laughed.

He leaned back, grabbed the scissors from the counter, and cut the ties, but he left them around your wrists. "You wanna touch me, y/n? You wanna play with my hair? My dick?"

You nodded and reached down to his pants. You cupped your hand around his bulge and squeezed it lightly. He moaned and you loved the sound of his voice. "I wanna do so much more than that, Draken. But … am I crazy for wanting this?" You laughed.

"Oh, you're definitely crazy, baby. An' that's just how I like it." He pushed you back against the chair and softly wrapped his lips around your pointed nipple and dragged his tongue over it.

You shifted in the seat and let out a small whimper. "Fuck that feels so good. I don't know if it's because you've been drilling on me all day or if I just really - I really want you, Draken." You pulled on his hair and he moaned again. He moved his hand up your leg and slipped it into your jeans, feeling how wet you were.

"Well, I guess I was right about something today, huh?" He laughed and unbuttoned your pants. He pulled them down just enough so he could get his fingers inside of you. "You wanna fuck me, y/n? Right here in my booth? You gonna let me fill you up - make you cum all over my cock."

You nodded, unable to form words.

He pulled his fingers out of you and unzipped his pants, pulling them down and sitting back on the edge of the table. He stroked himself a few times and looked back at you. "C'mon kitten, need this dick?"

You sat up and straddled him, holding your weight up enough so that he could slide himself into you. You let out a low moan as he filled you up, your pussy clenching around him. "Holy shit, you feel so fucking good," you moaned. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your breath all but stopped it's exchange with the space around you.

He started to move his hips and you rode him, rolling them and bouncing up and down on his cock. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, feeling him moan into your mouth. His hands were at your waist, guiding you up and down and you felt so fucking good.

"Fuck, y/n, arch your back, stick your tits up, wan' 'em in my mouth." He said, his voice muffled by your chest. You leaned back, he pushed your breasts together and he latched onto them. Massaging them, sucking and biting on your nipples. You felt like you were in a dream, your body humming with pleasure and pain from the abused inches of your skin.

You slowed your movements to feel him better. His cock was hot and dragging against your walls so perfectly that you almost didn't want to cum. You didn't want this to ever stop. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and he moaned, his body tensing up as he came inside of you.

"Fuck, y/n, cum for me, cum all over this dick, baby." He moaned as you ground your hips against his, rubbing your clit against his abdomen. You let yourself go, your body tightening and releasing with the orgasm that washed over you.

You breathed heavily and leaned forward to rest your head on his shoulder. "Wow, Draken. I ... that was..." you trailed off.

He laughed, "It was, huh?"

You nodded, smiling. "Yeah. It was. But I really like your work." 

Your work? You thought. Why did you say that.

"My 'work'? That's what you like? Heh, well, I'm glad?" He chuckled, shaking his head softly. "I'd say the same for you but, I think that'd be weird since I just fucked you and you're still sitting on my dick." He pushed your hair away from your face and kissed you gently on the forehead. "But, you know, I do like your ‘work’, too. It's beautiful. And you're beautiful. And I can't wait to see the finished product." He said, smiling.

You smiled back and leaned in to kiss him again, this time on the lips. "Me too. I'm excited to see it." You blushed and slowly lifted yourself off of him, wincing as he slipped out of you. "God. I hate this part." You pouted.

"Me too, but I think I can make it better. I wanna take you out, y/n. Let me take you out?" He asked, getting up to put his pants back on.

You nodded, smiling. "I'd love that." You grabbed your bra and shirt and held them against your chest as you watched him walk back to the sink and start washing his hands.

"Deal. We should wait a few days after your tattoo has healed up before we go out. Don't wanna get it infected or anything." He laughed, drying his hands on a paper towel.

You laughed too and nodded in agreement. "Sounds good. I guess that gives me time to plan what I'm gonna do next." 

“Do next?” he asked zipping his black jeans and fastening his belt.

“Tattoo ideas … orrr …?” He spun you around by your shoulders and tipped your face up with his fingers.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got more ideas.” You turned your back to him and he helped you fasten your bra around the wrapping.

“Would you laugh if I said both?” 

“No. I wouldn’t laugh. I’d say ‘when’?”

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

CBS Ghosts 4x22 Live Reaction!

It's the finale!!

WOOHOO!

I tried to go in as blind as possible but the name of the episode tells us quite a bit...

But I did my best. And I'm excited.

Let's do this!

Previously on GHOSTS?? Nice. The TWO face palms!

Oh shit Elias...

The Zoo????

They have to go to the CAR? FOR PRIVATE CONVOS??

LOL - Jay and Sam.

Oh Jay. Putting the cart before the horse.

Pete's hanging out with Kyle. He's making a new friend.

And he ruined Sam's lies.

Because Jay told Bela, who's clearly into Kyle. LOL.

Oh, Bela. ... Push Eric in front of a bus! Please!

Damn Isaac.

House hunters? Alberta checking him out!!!

Oh shit.

Alberta is HOT FOR PETE - Face Palm 2, Peter's revenge.

OMFG.

Don't remind her of that.

I was so waiting for someone to pop up behind the couch. - Sadly, no. (would've been funny though).

Ohhhh Whyyyy. You deserve a party for yourself, Sam!!

Kinda sad they did this.

It's Thor's fault. crippling agoraphobia.

PATIENCE!!!

Smell the devil's presence???

SHIT.

The basement ghosts are just like ....WTF.

LOL Isaac, I doubt it.

Go away, Isaac.

LOL SASS, really? You just had to go there, from ONE TIME (That I'm still HCing was fake)

I love them jumping.

How are things in the dirt?

Don't help, Flower.

OMG.

"We're ghosts maybe don't throw stones" - I love you.

Sam's being smart about this bring Bela!

The Devil Eggs.

BELA - WALL BLOOD THING???

LOL Patience.

They're trying to figure out how to get rid of her. LOL.

Oh shit.

Another soul saved.

THEYRE TALKING ABOUT DIRTY DREAMS!!

LOL - Patience arriving and they're jumping in the lies.

I love it!

OMFG. Hetty!

I LOVE THAT SHE WENT THERE to help Sam.

LMAO reminded him about the dirt being her fault.

OH SHIT - ELIAS!

GUYS!!!!

MOST IMPURE THOUGHTS??

OMFG She brought EVERYONE HERE???

Creepy dirk getting called out.

LOL. I'm laughing so hard.

She loves the bad boy.

OH SHIT OH SHIT.

PETE WALKING IN!!!

OMFG.

OH SHIT. OH SHIT. He just walks out.

Patience: SHAME SHAME SHAME.

Bela talking to Kyle. Bela/Kyle. New Dream.

OH SHIT - PATIENCE HATH BEEN TRICKED!

AHHHH

"I had impure thoughts about Catherine" - "Don't do this Stuart"

Shit, Nigel's face at this.

The red coats are werewolves.

OH GOD OH GOD.

THE BLOOD WALL.

Ohhhh Jay, you're so cute. Like they planned it.

"Where does the blood come from?" - "We don't ask, they're not good answers"

Oh shit, Nancy & Alberta.

Oh, Alberta's looking for Pete.

HAVING TO GET OUT OF HERE???

Damn Nancy. She's right.

LOL "There, there"

Creepy Dirk very empathic Listener.

Oh really? 'cause you just had no money.

That's great - cover story!

PUBLICIST???

OH SHIT HE SIGNED.

OH FUCK.

ELIAS! Sam didn't know about this!

THEY DIDNT SHARE THAT STORY!

Jay is just like "no....."

Trevor "Read the fine print"

Ohhhhhh Jay.... "Little time you have left to live????"

"We have ways of speeding things along???"

OH FUCK.

"Thought I'd get him on the first try?????"

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Final minute!

And it's dedicated to Alberta/Pete.

Anddddd she's lying.

2 days???

PETE LEFT TO BREAK UP WITH Donna????

And so he could kiss Alberta????

Oh Shit, Jay......

Jesus. that was intense. I thought Jay never signed, I thought they told Sam.

Some thoughts - I loved the A plot, though Isaac annoyed me a bit, it's nice to see Sam have a win and tie in the primere with the finale of the season - very full circle, and that they brought in the deal they left us hanging on with Jay. Even if Jay's soul is now sentenced to Hell.

I loved that the ghosts were doing something FOR SAM. Like to help her!

Not sure I'm crazy about the Pete/Alberta plot though. It'll be interesting where they go from here. I did love the Hetty/Alberta friendship though! So cute and different to S2 end.

I wanted Elias to secretly be Joan just to mess with Sass, but you know, you can't have everything.

Trevor was awesome all episode.

Solid A.

thoughts?

[fangphobia]

Just a small announcement to the the people that keep uploading my art and even personal images to pinterest: PLEASE STOP!

Instead, I encourage you to draw your own art and take your own photos and upload those instead. :3

I love fandom. I love being part of fandoms and sharing things within fandoms, but what I don't like is people taking my images and putting them in places I did not put them.

"But Fang, it's the Internet, people will just do this."

I don't care. I share my art/images so that other people can enjoy them where I put them. That doesn't mean I'm okay with people editing them, re-upload them, or using them for their ai character (i mean wtf).

I also do not care if you credit me because I don't want you re-uploading them in the first place!

I'm cool with people using them for wallpapers on your phone or PC or sharing them among your friends. If you wanna print them out and stick em on your wall, I'm also cool with that, too. I'm not drawing these for money, I'm drawing them because I like drawing and sharing my silly pictures with people! And I like to see people enjoy them too!

But what kills people's creativity and engagement within fandom spaces is people not respecting the people who make content for the fandom. The content you are not making yourself. Otherwise, you wouldn't be re-uploading other people's stuff.

In conclusion, please be more mindful of what you're doing with other peoples stuff because we see you. We are part of the fandom, too.

Also, you can ask for permission if you're unsure if I'd be okay with something. I'm not gonna jump through your screen and hurt you. And I really appreciate people who do ask because it shows me you care as much as I do about my things. But if you're happy not giving a shit about my feelings, then don't expect me to give a shit about yours.

✌️&❤️

[thescarlettbitch]

If you're in an area that doesn't support your practice, such as literally any place in America, I am begging you to document your practice

Yes it can be dangerous depending on your specific living situation, and obviously don't put yourself in danger, but when it is safe and you have a space to do it, do it.

Not to be needlessly dramatic but the only reason we know about the Gods from ancient Civilizations is because they were written about. We have written documents about them. Even then so many have been lost to time. Even if your journal consists of "today I prayed to Lady Artemis for a sign and then I found a deer antler on the ground on my way to work" people a hundred years from now will be able to figure out that deer are associated with Artemis, and that Artemis was a female presenting deity. Even if you're just printing out your pinterest collages and sticking them on your wall or talking in detail about every aspect of your day— write it down. Physically. Hell, type it up and print it out. Use a type-writer, etch it in clay tablets, carve it into a tree— I do not care just make it physical.

Document your practice. Make a recipe book. Ellis Grey that shit and write a hundred tiny journals full of every intricate boring detail of your life.

We don't know where the hell Punt is but we know it existed because Ancient Egyptians traded with them.

Document your practice.

Edit to clarify: I'm not saying that digital offerings and such aren't valid, I'm building a temple to Inanna in the Sims 4, I have devotional pinterest boards, the gods are as modern as they are ancient and other such things. This is just me saying that the we have no reason to believe that in hundreds of years from now the internet will still be around the way we know it.

[midsummer-semantics]

Schoolyard Crush

[This is originally posted to twt as threads, but I'm posting the parts here as a full bit and will update as it updates]

Preschool teacher Steve/Single Dad Eddie

Threads: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

[Part 1]

Steve knows he's not allowed to play favorites. All of his kids are amazing (except Daniel, that kid is a rabid chipmunk in a human suit). But most of them are fantastic.

Minnie, though. She's probably his favorite. Big eyes and thousand-watt smile every time Steve comes in the building. He's only been at the job a few months, but every day reminds him why he took the job in the first place. Especially with kids like Minnie, who always grabs "Mr. Steve's" hand and drags him over to do puzzles or read one of the Dr. Seuss books in the little corner library.

As Mother's Day approaches, the other teachers in his pod get the kids set up to make hand-flower bouquets for their mother-figures. Some do it for their grandmother, others for older siblings, some do two for both mom's.

Minnie tugs on Steve's pant leg while he's helping Braden with his hand prints.

"What's up, Minnie-moo?"

"How do I spell 'daddy'?" she asks, a D and A already written on her vase. She's always been so smart.

Steve helps her spell it out, not even questioning it.

He doesn't know a lot about her home life, but maybe she has a dad she considers a mom as well. Kids are always figuring things out as much as their limited experiences can help them understand.

He's not entirely incorrect. At some point, Minnie wants to show off her dad, grabbing Steve by the hand and taking him over to the wall of family photos in the room that he hasn't actually looked at too closely before.

"That's my daddy!" Minnie says excitedly, pointing to a picture of a curly-haired blast-from-the-past smiling at the camera, Minnie clutched in his arms. Steve's not sure how he didn't put two and two together before. Minnie's hair is the same wild curly brown, her eyes too big in an adorable doll-like way, and her clothes a mix of baby band t-shirts and tutus.

"That's your dad?" he asks to clarify.

"Yep!" Minnie says proudly before walking away, leaving Steve staring at the smiling face of his high school crush like it's not the revelation it really is.

Eddie Munson, notorious metalhead shit-stirrer — who Steve was pretty sure was as gay as he is — is the father of his favorite kid. Somehow, that figures. Steve's always had poor judgement.

It's not until a couple of days later that Steve gets the reality check.

It's recess, Minnie running around the playground with her friends when Eddie shows up, in the flesh. He doesn't stop Steve right away, leaning against the gate to watch his daughter screech and giggle with her friends. He looks good, because of course he does, he always has. But it's been 8 years since Steve's seen him and he's a man now, not the awkward, table-top-rant nerd he was in high school.

Steve takes a chance.

"Mr. Munson," he greets with faux happiness, his heart rabbiting in his chest. He keeps his body turned toward the playground, as per protocol, but mostly so he doesn't have to look in Eddie's stupidly beautiful eyes. He wants to look, but he fights it.

It doesn't matter, though, because as soon as Eddie mutters a shocked but quiet, "Steve?" he knows he's done for.

[Part 2]

Before Steve can respond, Minnie comes running up to the gate screeching excitedly.

“Daddy! Daddy! This is Mr. Steve!”

Steve watches Eddie’s eyes soften so quickly at the presence of his daughter that it makes Steve’s teeth ache.

“I know, sweetie,” Eddie says, turning those same soft eyes on Steve now. “I’ve known Mr. Steve a very long time.”

Minnie’s head tilts like a puppy and Steve has the sudden urge to squeeze her until she pops. “What? But Mr. Steve is new here. And you’re too old for him to be your teacher.”

Steve slaps a hand over his mouth to cut off the cackle that nearly escapes. Yep, that’s Eddie’s kid alright.

Eddie, meanwhile, has gone ruby in the face, sputtering at his daughter’s lack of a social filter.

Steve takes pity on him, though he’s still snickering a little as he swings Minnie up into his arms. She giggles delightedly and boops Steve on the nose.

“I wasn’t your daddy’s teacher, Minnie-moo. I was his classmate. Kind of like how you have classmates here,” he explains.

Minnie’s eyes go wide at that. “Were you best friends like me and Grace?!”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to blush. He looks at Eddie for help, finding his own confusion about how to answer her reflected back at him.

“Uh, not exactly,” Steve starts. “But maybe… we could be?”

The last part is said directly to Eddie, who looks a little shocked at the question.

“Oh, uh. Yeah.” Eddie nods, curls bouncing. “Best friends who… maybe get dinner together? Friday?”

Steve can feel his blush deepen. He hasn’t seen heads or tails of Eddie in 8 years and the man is just… asking him out on a date? While Steve’s holding his child? How does Eddie even know Steve might be into that?

Then, Eddie’s eyes dart down to Steve’s work polo, and Steve puts it together. Eddie’s eying the rainbow pin there. Steve’s suddenly grateful for his boss that lets him wear it. The kids just think it’s pretty, but it’s really coming in handy right now.

“Yeah, Friday,” Steve agrees.

“Seven?”

“Seven is perfect.”

Suddenly, Minnie makes an indignant noise, a pout on her lips. “But I’ll be with Grampa on Friday.”

‘Grampa’ must be the older gentleman that normally picks Minnie up, Steve supposes.

“That’s the idea, kiddo. Time to go,” Eddie says, shooting a subtle wink Steve’s way.

Steve gets her passed off to the front office girl, still standing near the gate as Eddie and Minnie take their leave. Eddie stops by the gate once more, Minnie’s head resting on his shoulder while she fiddles with a band pin on his jacket, still looking put out.

“Seven on Friday.”

“Seven on Friday,” Steve confirms. Then, much lower: “You can tell me how you became a daddy.”

Eddie’s smile turns a little wicked, a flash of high-school Eddie rushing to the front of Steve’s mind.

“Well, Mr. Steve, if we’re 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 friends, I can show you as well.”

Steve inhales sharply, listening to Eddie’s responding cackle as he starts walking away.

Friday it is.

[Part 3]

Steve's not sure he's ever been so nervous for a date before. Which is ridiculous because he knows Eddie. He's known Eddie since he was 15. Surely that has to count for something? But no, the moment he sees Eddie at the table, everything Steve knows leaves his brain in a rush.

Dinner is nice. Great food, better company, but the biggest question is still harping on him.

"Go ahead," Eddie prompts after a time, "Ask."

Steve blushes, knowing he's been clocked. "Sure, yeah. Um... so... Minnie."

Eddie snorts, clearing his throat with a drink of his wine, like he's lubricating his throat for the answer.

Okay, bad thought.

DOWN BOY.

"Minnie is mine, in case you're wondering."

Steve blinks, taken aback.

"Yeah, clearly. Same—" he gestures to Eddie, "everything."

Eddie grins, nodding. "Yeah, clearly. Her other dad is..." Eddie pauses, visibly recalibrating several explanations. "His IUD failed," he settles on. "We weren't dating, just casual, but he got pregnant anyway. And I'm the idiot who didn't wrap it before I tapped it."

Steve waits on baited breath, knowing there's more.

"He wanted to... terminate," Eddie continues. "Even made a couple of appointments, but never went through with them. He never wanted kids and I respected that! It's not my body, ya know? But I think part of me always hoped. And then he made me a deal: he would go through with the pregnancy in exchange for relinquishing all parental rights. No child support, no contact, total single parent life."

Eddie shrugs, like that's just the way the cookie crumbles and not like it was a drastic life decision.

"And I got Minnie out of it," he says, pride clear in his voice. Steve melts, seeing the obvious love in Eddie's voice. "And I wouldn't change a thing about it."

Steve nods, not getting it personally, but empathetic nonetheless. "She's a fantastic person. You've done an amazing job raising her," he says, reaching across to take Eddie's hand. It feels over-familiar, but Eddie doesn't pull away, just turns his hand to interlace their fingers together.

"And you've taught her so much since you started. Every day she comes home and it's 'Mr. Steve' this and

'Mr. Steve' that. I swear, I don't know how I didn't put it together sooner." Steve chuckles despite the way his face heats at the praise. He takes another drink, just to steel himself before he says, "Well, now you've told me how you became a daddy... Still up to show me?"

[Part 4]

They barely make it back to Steve's fully clothed. Eddie had offered up his place, but Steve didn't want the first time he's in Eddie and Minnie's house to be marked by sex they're apparently both eager to engage in.

Plus he really hopes this isn't the only time this will happen, or be the only date they go on, so he can wait to see the more domestic parts of Eddie's life until they have the "what are we?" talk.

Steve nearly leaves his cardigan in the Uber after it was yanked off by Eddie who apparently has no qualms about exhibitionism (Steve leaves a hefty tip in apology), but they managed to stumble into his apartment still mostly in-tact.

Eddie backs him against the front door the moment they're inside, his lips planted against Steve's throat.

"Tell me what you want, sweet boy," Eddie murmurs, seemingly careful not to leave any damning marks on him. Steve would let him if he knew it wouldn't subject him to a world of shit at work on Monday. His coworkers are nosey, and the kids are likely to ask how he got a bruise on his neck without realizing what it is.

"I already told you what I wanted," Steve groans, his hands fisted in Eddie's shirt, contemplating the merits of ripping it off entirely.

Eddie chuckles, a dark thing, and pulls back to look at Steve with dangerous clarity. His thigh is wedged between Steve's, right up against his rapidly growing erection, and Steve's practically vibrating with need.

"Remind me again what that was, sweetheart," Eddie prompts, grinding his hips forward and his thigh up, knocking a shaky moan from Steve's panting lips.

"Ah! Want- want you to show me—" he chokes out, rutting down against Eddie's leg, cursing the layers between them.

"Gonna have to be more specific," Eddie teases, even though he's already working on the buttons of Steve's shirt.

Steve's brain is already fuzzy, rutting mindlessly against Eddie's thigh while Eddie works his shirt open enough to attach his lips to his collarbone. There he finally sucks a mark in the safe zone, the first of many, Steve hopes.

“I w-want you to show me how you became a daddy,” Steve stutters out, fully yanking on Eddie’s shirt at this point. He needs him naked and inside him yesterday.

“Good boy.”

It’s a flurry of rushed movements after that. Clothes go flying, Steve trips on his way to the bedroom like he doesn’t know where he’s going, and Eddie’s laugh lights him up inside.

Eddie pins him to the bed, staring down with stars in his eyes.

“You want me to be your daddy, baby?” he asks, running his hands up Steve’s sides in a way that’s too ticklish for the words he’s saying. “Fuck you raw and keep you full ‘til it takes?”

Steve whimpers, reaching for Eddie’s arms to tug him down.

“Yes, daddy. Please,” Steve pants. Eddie’s cock brushes against his own every time Steve’s hips jump, needing to feel him. “Want it. Want your baby. Give your daughter a sibling.”

Eddie groans and captures his mouth in a filthy kiss before reaching for the lube.

Steve’s mind — and mouth — run through all kinds of scenarios while Eddie opens him up. If only he could get pregnant. Steve’s always wanted kids, a big family, a partner to love and kids to spoil. Maybe 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 could do that for him. It’s way too soon, but —

“Fuck, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦,” Eddie moans, sucking another mark into the crease where’s Steves hip meets his thigh, three-fingers deep already. “You gotta shut up before I tie you down and keep you forever.”

“Want it, want it,” Steve repeats, past the point of caring that he’s a pathetic begging mess. “Please, daddy. Give it to me!”

And he does. Eddie’s careful when he finally presses in, but Steve’s having none of it. He wants this fast and dirty. They can make love later. He needs Eddie to breed him over and over until nature and the universe rewrites itself.

Eddie’s hammering at his insides, one hand jerking Steve off, the other holding himself up as he sucks another mark right over Steve’s heart. 

"𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺!" is all the warning Steve gets out before he’s cumming hard, back bowing and blood boiling.

“Steve, baby, 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬!" Eddie grunts, finding his own end deep inside Steve.

It won’t take, but Steve can pretend it does. He can hold Eddie close like they’ve been doing this all their life and will keep doing it forever.

“God, I hope so, baby,” Eddie breathes against his neck.

Oops, apparently Steve was thinking out loud again.

“Me too, daddy,” he says nonsensically.

Eddie snorts and kisses the side of his sweaty throat. He leaves his face buried there while they attempt to come back down, just breathing together.

After a moment, Eddie mumbles, almost too quietly for Steve’s ears to pick up: “How many dates do I have to take you on until we can tell Minnie?”

Steve’s heart stops and restarts. Eddie wants to do that? Roleplaying was one thing, but he actually wants his daughter to know they’re… what? Dating? Officially together? Trying to get pregnant even though that’s not going to work?

Okay, maybe not the last part. She’s only 4. 

“Um,” Steve hesitates, swallowing around a dry lump. “It’s your call, Eddie. You already know I love her.”

Eddie nods against his shoulder and tucks in tighter against him.

They don’t have to figure it out yet. They have time.

[Part 5]

Steve’s pretty sure he has a perpetual blush every time he sees Minnie now. Never mind that his coworkers seem to know exactly how close he is with her dad just by looking at him. It’s like he has “Daddy’s Boy” written across his forehead now.

The Friday before Father’s day, Steve and his co-teachers are helping the children make hand-print awards that say things like “# 1 dad” or “# 1 papa”.

“Mr. Steve,” Minnie says from across the little table that he and several of her classmates are sitting around.

It takes all of his self control not to keep her plastered to his side at all times. Eddie desperately wants to tell her about them, but Steve’s worried about confusing her.

He’s also worried that Eddie will change his mind, but he’s terrified to say that out loud, like it’ll manifest immediately if he gives it breath. The fact Eddie is so adamant means the world to him, but his own history with flighty parents means he doesn’t want to risk being that in Minnie’s life. She means as much to him as Eddie does, possibly more because she’s such an angel and he would be lucky to be there for her, however Eddie wants him to be.

So when she says his name in her little voice, his heart flutters and his focus is 100% on her -- a dangerous task when he has Daniel next to him with paint all over his hands.

“Yes, Minnie-moo?” Steve asks, the nickname still making her giggle.

“How do you spell rockstar?” she asks. She has her pencil poised and ready to let him list off the letters. Steve does, doing his best to not let Daniel run amok with gold fingers while helping Minnie create a # 1 Rockstar award for her dad.

“Thank you!” Minnie says excitedly before grabbing her art and running over to Robin. Steve just knows Eddie’s going to cry when he sees it. Hell, Steve can feel the burning of tears behind his own eyes as he thinks about the two of them. They’re a perfect family, and the fact that Eddie wants him to be part of that, even so soon, is something Steve still can’t wrap his head around.

Instead, he tries to refocus on helping the other kids who are making gifts for their parents, and probably doing a terrible job at pretending he’s not always half-watching Minnie.

At the end of the day, while Steve’s chasing the kids around during recess, a gorgeous swath of dark curls catches his eye. He spins toward the gate, spotting Eddie among the other eager parents waiting for their children.

“Happy Father’s day,” Steve says when he approaches the gate, once again keeping his attention mostly on the children playing.

“Thank you again, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, sending him a wink.

Again, meaning after Steve texted him first thing that morning. Steve feels his entire face heat up because what he actually told him that morning was “happy father’s day daddy.”

“Minnie has a gift for you,” he deflects.

“I’ll grab it!” Robin pipes up, nearly scaring the shit out of Steve in the process.

“Oh! Uh… thank you, Ms. Robin,” Steve stammers, before dropping low to scoop a giggly Minnie into his arms. “You ready to give your daddy a happy father’s day?”

“We made cards!” she tells him, proud as anything.

“Yeah?” Eddie chuckles. “Is it gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,” she states, suddenly very serious. Steve and Eddie both glance at each other, nervous smiles on their faces.

As Robin reappears from the classroom, arms held behind her back, Minnie wiggles in Steve’s arms. “Ms. Robin, I can give them to them, right?”

“Of course you can, Minnie,” Robin replies with a megawatt smile.

“Mr. Steve, can you put me down please?”

Steve blinks a few times, thoroughly confused. “Oh! Sure, of course, Miss Minnie.”

He sets her on the ground, looking over to find the overly fond look on Eddie’s face at the entire interaction.

“Thank you,” Minnie chimes, smoothing her My Little Pony dress out immediately.

“You can walk her out, dingus,” Robin mutters as Minnie walks toward the door to the office.

“But--” he starts, cut off by his boss who opens the door and waves him inside. Steve hesitates only for a moment before chasing after Minnie, scooping her back into his arms before carrying her out to the parking lot. Eddie has moved toward the front door, already waiting for them both with open arms. Steve just steps into them, melting immediately into a group hug with two of his favorite people.

“I missed you both so much,” Eddie coos, planting a smacking kiss to Minnie’s cheek while surreptitiously squeezing Steve’s hip. 

Minnie kisses him back before turning dangerously in Steve’s grasp to call out: “Ms. Robin! My awards!”

“Of course, Minnie, darling,” Robin says with over-inflated grandeur, bowing and then holding several pieces of paper between the bars. Steve shuffles them close enough for Minnie to grab, confused as to why there’s more than one.

“Here,” Minnie says, immediately holding them out for Eddie to take without explanation. Eddie’s eyebrows raise as he accepts them, turning them over to see.

The first is the one Steve helped her with, her hand the centerpiece of an award with # 1 Rockstar written on a would-be plaque.

“Oh, Minnie,” Eddie whispers, tears gathering in his eyes. Steve wants to gather him back up in his arms, but refrains in public.

“There’s more,” Minnie states proudly, and Steve watches Eddie shuffle the top award to the back.

The second says “# 1 grampa” spelled exactly as she pronounces it. Steve’s eyes burn and he’s not able to wipe away the tear that escapes since he has his arms full of the thoughtful 4-year-old.

“It’s for Grampa Wayne,” she explains, like Eddie might be confused.

Eddie sniffles, pressing the award stack to his chest as he says, “He’s gonna love it, sweet pea.”

Minnie looks proud, which makes Steve feel proud too, even if he knows Robin helped her with it. He’s so proud of Minnie for being the amazing little girl she is, but also so proud of Eddie for being the incredible father that she needs.

Eddie moves in to wrap them both back in a hug when Minnie cries: “Wait there’s one more!”

“Oh! Of course, I’m sorry,” Eddie says, his voice a little strained despite the breathtaking smile on his face.

He shuffles the pages once more, freezing when the last one is revealed. 

Steve only helped with the first one; he had no idea she made three of them.

He stands there with Minnie in his arms, watching Eddie’s eyebrows draw together and then up, the tears in his eyes pooling even more. It’s all incredibly worrying because Steve’s never seen Eddie cry this much, and now he’s terrified about what the final one says.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asks after a moment, glancing at Robin for a second, who looks on the verge of tears herself despite the smile on her face.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, and then turns the pages over for Steve to see.

There, on the would-be plaque under Minnie’s tiny hand print, says “#1 Steve.”

Steve gasps, eyes raking over the scribbly handwriting again and again.

“Oh no,” Minnie mumbles, her smile falling and big brown eyes tearing up, “It makes you sad.”

Steve chuckles around a sob and holds Minnie tighter, burying his face in her familiar curly hair. “No, baby girl. I’m so happy.”

“Happy tears?” she asks when he pulls back.

“Very happy tears. My number one Minnie,” he replies. Her face lights up once more as she throws her arms around Steve’s neck and attempts to squeeze the life out of him.

Steve looks to Eddie, making sure everything about this is okay. The man looks elated, tears flowing freely. Steve almost forgets they’re standing in the parking lot of his job.

“Now?” Eddie mouths. Steve, blinking back more tears, nods definitively. “Hey Minnie-moo,” Eddie says, running his fingers through his daughter’s hair to get her attention. “What do you think of Mr. Steve being around outside of school? Like, as daddy’s boyfriend?”