#i would put a caption in this but it's almost time and i can't think of anything to say so

[vegancas]

[toxicanonymity]

ring doorbell 🚪

5400 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master

Summary: Joel holds it together at a Christmas party, only to show up at your apartment later. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, toxic fluff, f masturbation, party-typical alcohol, angst, reader dacryphilia, grinding, unsafe P in V INTERCOURSE FINALLY ❤️‍🔥 (he's clean, I tested him myself), pulling out (this time), big mess of cum. A/N: dedicated to @gracieispunk 🤍 (bc he's always been her #1) and all of stepdad's fans ✊💦

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Note: not a big deal but white elephant gift /party explanation if you don't know

This is the wk before Xmas week like 12/16/23 yes the whole fic is mildly in the future lmao the exorcist comes out this October.

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You still haven't snapchatted Joel back. After he sends nothing one day, you think about it a lot. You want to send him your own, but you can't decide what to send. You never used to overthink it, but after all this, whatever you send feels like a big deal. The next day, you're lounging on your bed thinking about it when you get a notification.  

[Snapchat: J. has shared a photo with you] 

You've gotten yourself off to Joel's snaps so many times  that as soon as you get the notification, you're throbbing.  You’re also relieved–after going a whole day with nothing from him, you were getting anxious.  It's a rainy day and you're doing nothing, so you get out your silicone Joel but it’s dead.  You change the batteries, silently thanking Joel for his foresight, and fold a towel under you.  Before you open his Snapchat, you get yourself close with nothing but your imagination. 

You imagine him showing up at your door, eyelids red, cheeks still wet with tears, unable to speak he's so desperate for you. Latching onto your lips as he barges into your apartment, hands cradling your head, pulling your face into his. Kissing you like he's starving.  Taking off each other's clothes on the way to your room without a single word spoken until he's on your bed and rasps "I fuckin' need you right now" as he gets between your legs. Tangling your fingers in his hair as his bare chest hovers over yours and his cock hangs heavily onto your mound until he reaches down and puts it where you need it.  His lips on yours again. His tongue pushing into your mouth as he pushes his cock into you.  Your legs wrapping around him as your body swallows his length. Joel pounding into you, moaning that moan you've heard so many times now, his skin against yours, thrusting into you, approaching that moment where he'll give you the biggest load you could imagine. 

At this point, you open the snap, and it's not what you expect. 

Photo: Close-up selfie of his face and bare shoulders. His shoulders are so muscular and tan that it takes you a moment to realize his head is resting on your pillow, in your room (at their house). His eyes are large and his brow is furrowed. He looks tired. Caption: Hope this is okay.  

A lewd snap could follow any minute, but the first one makes you cum.  Just the sight of his face, the face that would be right up against yours with that big, hard, beautiful cock finally inside you. Fuck. You keep staring at his face the whole time you cum.  You almost kiss your fucking phone.  This has gotten that out of hand.  You leave it on read.  It's sweet how he's being careful, almost timid.  But at the same time, bold to go into your room.  Hope this is ok.  You fall asleep, and when you wake up, there's another photo from him, just four minutes earlier. 

Photo (82 min after the first one): Close-up selfie on his side, hair is tousled. Arm looking huge. Eyes weak. Hugging one of your pillows.  The corner is covering his chin and mouth. Caption: Good nap.  

He just wanted to take a nap in your room? Your heart flutters, which is a little uncomfortable, like it's easier when he's just nasty. But you can't deny you like this sweet side of him. He doesn't know it, but you basically just took a nap together.

—------

The next morning, Joel sends another Snapchat.

Video: He's in your bed again, laying on his side shirtless with strong shoulders, muscle cleavage, and sleepy eyes as if he slept there all night. His voice is hushed. "Mornin', beautiful” (he yawns) “So about tonight . . .I'm not gonna make it weird, ok? I'll act normal."

Video (less than a minute later): He's in the same position but holding his phone further out and at an angle and your covers are pulled down so you can see a lot more of his torso. He says, "Hope you're still comin'." 

Later that day

Photo: Mirror selfie in a red and white fair isle sweater and a mostly straight face but his eyes are a little sad. Caption: See? Normal. 

There's a family Christmas party, and you're anxious despite Joel's assurances. Can you act normal? You haven't tried in person since that night with Jacques. If Joel is finally as willing as he seems, for some reason, that makes you nervous. For months now, you've been trying to break him down, often thinking it might never happen. Even with his dick pressed right up against your leggings on Thanksgiving, it felt far away. Now after weeks of no physical contact, it feels closer than ever. And as much as you wanna make your move on Mr. Cant-believe-he-ever-turned-you-down, you're unexpectedly anxious. 

—------

When you get to your cousin's house, both Joel’s SUV and your Mom's car are there.  A small mob greets you at the door.  One of your aunts takes your white elephant gift off your hands. Joel is nearby, quietly sipping a drink.  Looking over another aunt's shoulder as she hugs you, you can see how the sweater hugs Joel's biceps and has polar bears in the pattern.  Does he have to be so cute? As you finish hugging them hello, Joel puts down his drink and tacks himself onto the end of the hug train. 

He looks you in the eye with a subtle smile – sad but hopeful.  He lifts both his arms, meaning this is a full hug and your arms will go around his waist. As you get closer, his scent hits you and you have to physically stop your eyes from closing in pleasure as you inhale through your nose. When you first touch, there's a literal spark. Static electricity. You gasp and he chuckles. Not to be deterred, his scruff brushes your cheek as his big arms wrap around you and squeeze.  This brief moment might be the coziest you've felt all winter. You loosely embrace his waist, and when you pull back, he lets you go. You share a loaded glance, his eyes falling to your mouth as he wets his lips. An aunt comes to beckon you to the kitchen. 

When you glance back over your shoulder, Joel adjusts his glasses and awkwardly hovers near the door. He’s wearing khakis, and his sweater is bunched up above his ass.  Your aunt turns to say something to you and you whip your head back around and say "sorry."  

In the kitchen, your Mom says she feels like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “Sorry I didn’t get to meet Jacques. Joel said I just missed him.”  Joel comes and stands in the door frame, drinking out of his solo cup. 

“That was weeks ago,” you say, not feigning warmth.  

She asks if Jacques is still in the picture, and you shake your head no.  When you glance at Joel, he looks about as satisfied as you expect. He helps change the subject by asking your uncle about golf.  

One of the kids yells from the other room, "Uncle Joel! play Mario Kart with us!" And Joel leaves.

You overhear Joel say, "No cryin' when I beat ya this time." 

Followed by an outraged, "YOU DIDN'T BEAT ME!"

Then Joel says, "Oww!" 

—------

About an hour and a half later, you go outside alone to the deck for some air. The yard is dark. There's a trampoline and a treehouse. You’re leaning back against the wood railing, facing the house.  A lot of the adults are drunk now and the kids are being put to bed.  You want to leave, but the white elephant exchange hasn’t happened and you don’t need everyone asking after you, wondering what happened, whether you’re okay.  You’d rather serve the time at the party. Preferably without being social.

You figure no one will notice if you go up into the treehouse meanwhile. You climb up and use your phone light. There’s a lantern up there.  You turn it on.  There are papers scattered on the floor with crayon drawings of monsters and people including a stick figure with what appears to be a huge dick pointing straight toward the ground and he's urinating on a crowd of smaller stick people.  On another sheet, there’s a snowman with stick people for arms and they don’t look happy. 

The treehouse smells like cedar chips and melted crayons. You can hear the murmur of the party which grows louder as someone opens the door. You sit and scroll your phone, confident no one saw you go up there. You think about snapchatting or texting Joel but wouldn’t want anyone to see it if he’s too drunk to be discreet. 

—--

A twig snaps in the yard.  A few seconds later, the ladder to the treehouse shakes under weighty footsteps and Joel appears in the little door frame. 

"Thought I might find ya here." Fair enough–you weren’t anywhere else. He seems only a little tipsy. "It's almost white elephant time."

You look at each other in silence. His hair is messy. He’s so hot. You can't help but smile. He stays there in the doorframe with his big hands gripping the top of the ladder. 

You break the silence with crude teasing about how he stopped sending you lewd snaps. "What happened yesterday, you didn't nut?" 

He chuckles and looks down shyly.  "Takin'' a break, I guess.  And, uh. Wasn't sure you wanted that stuff.” He looks at you again. “Cause you never reply, so." It doesn’t sound like a complaint, it just sounds a little sad. “Guess I got in my head.”

You nod in understanding then rest your head against the wall again. “Guess I didn’t know what to say.”  

He asks, "But you like it?"

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, and slowly nod.  You say, "I guess practice makes perfect, 'cause damn." You take a deep breath and spread your legs, a symbolic gesture since you're wearing pants. 

He groans softly, making you tingle.  "Christ . .Don't get me hard while I'm on this fuckin' ladder." 

You reach forward and extend your hand to bring him in and out of view of the door. His hand engulfs yours for balance, but he holds his own weight as he crouches into the small structure. Unable to stand, he gets down on his hands and knees and looks around and asks,"Think this thing is stable?" 

"You're the expert." 

He laughs, then it fades and you both seem to realize he's on all fours between your legs. He clears his throat and sits back on his heels. He looks at his watch. 

"Do you, uh, wanna talk? We've got a minute." 

You shake your head. 

"I mean, we prolly should," he says softly,  then clenches his jaw and his eyes seem to weaken when you break eye contact. Ugh, he's so hot and pitiful. You rise to your knees and knee-walk toward him. He lowers his voice, "But we don't have to talk . . .right now." When you've closed the short distance, you watch his eyes glisten and smell the egg nog on his breath. “Maybe later,” he says even softer.  He swallows then cups your face in his hand and looks at your mouth.

After a final glance to your eyes, Joel softly presses his lips into yours and you meet him with the same softness. It makes you lightheaded.  You’ve never kissed each other tenderly before, but it turns you on just as much as if he had ravished you. Because it’s real. He’s really into this, and he’s stayed into it for weeks without taking out any of his self loathing on you, IF he even still hates himself for this. 

Joel's tongue brushes your lips, then you hear the sliding door to the house open in the distance. Your uncle yells "JOEL???" and you pull away.  Joel pulls you back in for a few seconds with one hand behind your ear and another hand on your ass. His khakis press into your jeans and your heart jumps when you feel his cock begin to harden. 

"JOEL! YOU FIND HER?"

You pull away again. He takes a deep breath, looks you over, and adjusts himself as he turns away. The uncle goes back inside.  Joel exits the treehouse first then helps you down the ladder.  As you brush off your knees and butt, he says, "shoulda told me you were comin' out here." 

“Why?” you ask and he brushes himself off as well. 

He hesitates and his face falls.  “I dunno.”  His eyes look more like his sad videos, like his cool facade is cracking.  “I was lookin’ for ya.”  His Adams Apple catches your eye as he swallows.  He puts his massive hand on your back for a moment, ushering you toward the house. 

—---

Your Mom gets too drunk and goes to sleep in a guest bedroom halfway through the white elephant game. Not the first time this has happened. 

You're in a chair and Joel is sitting across the room on a sofa, manspreading. He rests his hand on his inner thigh and your breath hitches. You cross your legs, clench your thighs, and try not to stare, but you feel him looking at you from time to time.

Your cousin’s husband Barry opens the gift you brought.  It’s a sweatshirt that says Cutie. He holds it up to himself and spins around for laughs. Joel glowers. Joel steals it when it's his turn and smiles when everyone laughs. No one steals it from Joel. At the end of the game, you hug everyone goodbye. Your hug with Joel is brief. 

—----

In the middle of the night, your phone wakes you up with a Ring doorbell alert. It’s Joel. He’s wearing the stupid cutie sweatshirt. He adjusts his glasses. He rakes his hand into his hair and looks around in a way that makes you wonder if he might regret coming. You lie there for a minute or two watching the Ring feed, but he just stands there waiting.  He braces his arm on the doorframe. His biceps stretch the sleeves.  You turn your lamp on the dimmest setting and get out of bed. 

You open the front door silently and he steps back as you open it.  His eyes are a little red.  He looks dead serious.  He puts his hand back on the doorframe and the sweatshirt rides up enough to expose a sliver of skin.  His Adam's Apple bobs and he asks hoarsely, “can I come in?”

You look around outside then step back and let him in. 

“I can’t sleep,” he says as he walks into your dark kitchen.  He shakes his head. “can’t sleep after seein’ you.”  His eyes glisten. “Can we talk?” 

You feel your heart rate rising and wonder if he can tell how nervous you are. You’d prefer to break the tension physically, but apparently he has something to say and you’re gonna have to hear it sooner or later.  You turn and walk into your bedroom.  You stack pillows and lie down face up.  If he's not willing to get on your bed at this point, you're not sure if you wanna hear what he has to say after all. 

At first, he stands at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his head, elbows bent forward in distress. Your eyes drift to his exposed happy trail and the way his joggers hug his groin.  “I dunno what the hell’s wrong with me.” He looks toward your window and chokes back tears. Then he kneels on your bed. “You’re never gonna know how sorry I am.” 

“Joel, I know,” you say softly. “C’mere.” You offer space next to you. Instead, he gets between your legs and your heart skips a beat. He lies face-down, with his feet hanging off the bed. His armpits rest on your upper thighs with his elbows and forearms on either side of your hips and torso.  It turns you on of course, yet he doesn't seem to be making a move sexually. 

“I am so, so sorry,” he says. 

“I know,” you say again. “We can move on. I don't wanna keep talk–”

“But,” he says, then pauses and swallows.  His eyes are big and watery.  “I dunno if you get it. How sorry I am.” a tear rolls down his cheek. He wipes it and takes his glasses off.  You reach out your hand to take them and put them on your nightstand. He whispers, “thanks,” as he dabs his eyes with his fingers which only sends the tears to his cheeks.  

“I know you’re sorry, Joel, I get it.” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think you get-” He puts his face down on you for a second like he’s dabbing his cheeks on your PJs, then he lifts his head again. While choking back tears, he blurts out, “I’m SO fucked up over you." He blinks and looks away and another tear escapes his eye. "can't even fuckin' sleep except in your bed." He buries his face in your thin cotton PJs.

Now you’re turned all the way on. You take a deep breath as your ache for him deepens.  When you don’t respond, he whispers, “I’m sorry,” then puts the other side of his face down on you, his mouth below your belly button. His tears are dampening your PJs. “I dunno why I’m here,” he mumbles into the bottom hem of your tank top.  Your hips lift into his upper chest once, as though adjusting your position.  He ignores it and continues, “FUCK, i’ve been tryin’ to give ya time.” He looks up at you. “Tried to act normal tonight.” He shakes his head and his brow furrows.

He presses his eyes into your tank top one by one to dry them without using his hands.  “Then i show up in the middle of the fuckin’ night,” he laughs softly at how pathetic this is. It’s taking all your restraint not to rock your hips into him. You’re wet, so wet. 

—-

“Stop. Just c’mere,” you say quietly and open your arms. You lift your hips again. He looks up at you and the distress on his face dissolves.  As he crawls up your body, his big, sweet eyes begin to darken.  He puts his forearms down on the bed on either side of your chest and your eyes connect for a moment. Your lips part.

“You’re so. . .fuck,” he sighs, then presses his lips into yours. Your mouth warmly accepts him. His lips move against yours and he licks into your mouth slowly at first, like he’s savoring every brush of his tongue against yours. Then it becomes needy at a sensual rhythm. 

With your mouths still connected, he shifts his body. The warm bulge in his joggers meets your clothed heat, and then, oh god,  his cock hardens against you.  He softly hums, "mmm" as your mouths move together and he swells harder against you. You're throbbing, aching.  For a second, you wonder if you're having a wet dream (you're not).

There's a different electricity between you now. You can both feel it – He breaks away for a moment and looks at you, breathing heavily, and you can see it in his eyes. He's not crying anymore.  He looks at peace.  He rests his weight on one arm, and his opposite hand slides onto your breast, slowly palming it as his lips move with yours and his growing arousal digs into you. It’s the first time you’ve had his whole body against yours. And fuck, he feels good. It’s the first time you’ve been on a bed together.  That one time on your couch, he said it was dangerous being alone.  This time, he's not stopping, not even slowing down.

He didn’t regret it last time you hooked up, but now there’s a different buzz inside you now. If he ends up regretting it this time, you could get hurt. His rejection never deterred you before, but this time, you feel like it could crush you. You're not even sure why, but you have to somehow acknowledge it before he puts his head between your legs, or whatever he has in mind. 

“You’re sure you wanna. . . do stuff,” you begrudgingly say and inwardly shame yourself for the tremble in your voice. 

“I’m so fuckin’ sure, sweetheart.” 

—--

That's all you need, because you can feel it in his body, too. There’s no part of him that doesn’t want you. Your mouths embrace again and only come apart for heavy breaths and moans as your hips and lips move in rhythm.  His cock grows even stiffer and his hand moves from your breast, down your side. His hands are so big and masculine, but gentle. There’s nothing hesitant about his movements. He grabs your thigh, and you bend your knee. He hikes up your leg and pushes himself harder against you where it counts.   

He slides his hand down your thigh and into your soft sleep shorts, his fingers getting closer and closer to the pool of desire that's begging for him. When his fingertips reach your cunt, you arch your back and whine, pulling your lips away as your head tilts up toward the ceiling. His mouth comes to your breast and dampens your cotton tank top as he tongues your nipple through it. 

"Fuck," you say between heavy breaths.  You've never wanted anyone–or anything–so bad in your life. It's a need. 

You run your hands over his hulking back, feeling the muscles flex on either side of his spine, and curl your fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt.  He takes it off in a flash, his white t-shirt coming with it. He takes off your tank top, then his lips return to yours, his cock grinds into you, and you sigh.  

He breaks the kiss and pauses. His tan shoulders look huge the way he's hovering there over you. 

His voice is weak and hoarse. "Don't want ya to think I came here just to–"

"Shhhh," your hips lift and you moan at his hardness. 

"Ohhh, God," he rolls his hips into yours and sighs your name. He dips his head and noses your neck, then murmurs into your skin, "didn't come here to fuck ya, baby."  His scruff brushes your cheek on his way to look at you again. 

"I know," you say.  God, you need him so bad. 

"Okay," he whispers, then covers your mouth with his again, kissing you hungrily. 

Your lips break away, then you meet his eyes and tell him, "but that's what you're gonna do."

Joel reads your eyes for a moment, breathing heavily.  Then he nods silently and a surge of arousal runs through you.  "Yeah," he nods again. "I am."   

You pull him down so his bare chest is against yours. He kisses you hard with a little bit of tooth, making your lips buzz and your nipples harden against him. He sucks your neck, and his rock-hard cock presses against your clit rhythmically. You throb violently.  Then he whispers in your ear, "'m'gonna fuck ya, sweetheart," drawing a moan from you. 

"Now," you beg. You lift your shoulder blades off the bed, pressing him up with your breasts and stomach.  You reach around to his back and hook your thumbs into the waistband of his joggers. 

"Yeah," he breathes.  You tug down his joggers. He kicks out of them and you observe the massive tent in his boxers with a pang of need from your core through your heart.  He urgently pulls off your sleep shorts, then says "fuck," and takes his boxers off, too. 

You take a deep breath as you stroke your clit and spread yourself open for him. He moans softly at the sight of your fingers at your glistening cunt. He wets his lips as he reaches between your legs. His hand replaces yours, and he sharply inhales.  He spreads your slick around your folds and gently rubs your clit. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

He gets in position and hikes up your leg again. His head falls, putting his messy head of hair in your view.  He watches himself align his cock with your entrance, and your breath hitches at the first touch of the smooth head of his cock.  He begins to push inside with a moan, opening you up with his swollen tip.  Your clit twitches. His hips push forward, giving you more of him, and his mouth falls open as he watches it happen.  You both moan as his cock parts your insides. It’s happening smoothly, without effort, and the stretch is delicious.

Joel pries his gaze away from where your bodies are joined. He locks eyes with you, then plunges to the hilt and shudders as he bottoms out. God, the way his cock fills you up. His eyes glisten and his face looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not.  You catch yourself holding your breath, and you exhale with a whimper. Joel stays all the way inside with his swollen balls against you and closes his eyes, his chest expanding with air. “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers. His chest is heaving.  He opens his eyes and tries to speak. “You feel – god damn. . . you're. . .(a vocal sigh). . you–" 

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He twitches inside you and you both moan. 

After a moment, he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. "Mmmm" he moans into your mouth. All the times you’ve imagined this, you never counted on the contact of your bodies and faces together.  You could never have dreamed how full you’d feel. Even after having him in your hand. In your mouth. This feeling is new for you. It’s like he’s shaped just for you. He pulls back, then bottoms out again and groans against your cheek. How is it already the best you’ve ever had? He retreats, then slides all the way in with a punch of his cock as he bottoms out. 

"That okay?" he asks like he doesn't wanna hurt you. 

You nod urgently, "Give it to me."

He thrusts into you harder, working up to about once per second, at first. Breathing heavily, grunting, moaning, vocalizing constantly in one way or another. He kisses your lips, sucks your neck, and lightly bites you as your cunt hugs his cock just right.  He steals downward glances at your body and groans as he watches his glistening cock disappear into you again and again. He gradually ups the pace and intensity until you're whining.  

"Fuck," he sighs, and you whimper. "Too much?"

"Don't hold back," you shake your head. "Don't you dare hold back."

"Oh, baby," he says, then slams into you with all his weight. You asked for it, but you're really not prepared for the other realm he sends you to.  "Fuck MEee," he moans. He pounds into you, grunting each time he buries his cock in your dripping core.   He snaps his hips and kisses you sloppily. Your mouths are half connected and half moaning into each other's cheeks. 

You moan, “Jo–” but stop yourself. 

“S'okay," he pants. "You can say it.”

“Fuck, I–”

“Say it, sweetheart”

“Joel,” you whine.

"Oh, Christ," he pants.

"Fuck, Joel, uggggh–your--"

"Oh, Fuck"

"Feel so–"

"Yeah," he breathes, slamming into you with his weight behind it. “Fuck, baby–yeahhh”.

You feel the pleasure building in your gut and core as he fucks you.  Your sounds must seem increasingly distressed, and so do his. They tumble out of the back of his throat. The tension in your belly tightens. He lowers his chest against yours again. Your arms are around his neck and his forearms squeeze your sides. He manages to fuck you so deep and good, even while he's flat against you. His hips move like a mating animal. 

It hits you like a ton of bricks: This is it. Every other man is ruined for you. How could anything compare? Your own eyes prickle with tears.

Joel tries a few times to say things, but every time it devolves into a moan or guttural sigh. He makes sounds you haven't heard before. 

"Ohhh, fuck," he moans. "I dunno if I can–" 

You open your eyes and the agonized look on his face puts you all the way on the edge. He must be close. 

"Give it to me, Joel."

He pistons into you harder, all his muscles flexing.  You whimper as your thighs tremble. 

"C'mon, baby," he whispers, then he grunts. He growls, "Soak me, baby–ohh–Just fuckin'––nnngh"

You sigh vocally and start to clench around him.  You moan his name, long and drawn out as pleasure seizes you. 

You flutter around his cock and he gasps, "oh, fuck." You gush and groan, your hips lifting into him, mouth hanging open, breathing and whining at once.  

He pants, "Fuck–(a low moan), I wanna fill–ohhhhh, god (heavy breaths). Sweetheart, i really wanna–ahh, shit." He bites his lips together, his cheeks puff out, and his neck vein flexes. You’re still cumming. He grunts from the back of his throat as he pulls out and slaps cock down on your mound. He presses his body against you so his cock rubs your still pulsing clit. 

His cock is nestled between your bodies, and he’s grinding into you when he erupts massively with a shudder from deep in his chest.  His pulsations drag yours out as his cum coats your mound and lower belly. He groans as he slowly, wetly grinds against you. He breathes and gasps for air, still cumming. His cock pulses so powerfully, a hot rope every couple of seconds. 

With the movement of his hips and sliding of his cock, the warmth of his cum spreads around your skin, settling into your navel, and he’s still cumming. The obscene mess between you is sticky and growing.  Then, even after his balls have emptied, he stays on top of you, hard cock pressed against you, empty pulsations waning for what feels like minutes.  He's so warm and wet and hard. He lies there with his weight on you and dips his forehead to your pillow, resting his temple against yours. You both have aftershocks against each other as you try to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," you pant softly. Once he rolls off you, you're already sticking to each other near the edges of the mess where it's drying. 

—--

All you can do is breathe heavily. His lips find yours. He kisses you deeply, then pulls back and hovers over you. He brushes tears you don't realize you're crying off your cheeks and his brow furrows.  

"Shit," he says as his thumb brushes your cheek. His eyes are wide. "You okay?" He swallows and studies your face. 

You nod confidently and look him in the eyes. He bows his head with relief, then gently kisses you again. You're terrified he's gonna come down and regret it. Your wet skin begins to feel cold. You look down. "Oh my god." It's so much cum. You're covered in it. It's all the way up to your breasts, at least. It's all over him, too.

"Oh shit," he says with a small laugh. "Gimme a sec." He gets out of bed. 

-----

Cleaning both of you up takes multiple warm washcloths. You really need a full shower, but you're so tired and just want to be held. 

You move to  the dry side of the bed. You'll deal with it all in the morning. He turns off the lamp and gets under the sheets with you. You face each other, and he wraps his arms around you. 

You ask, "What time do you have to leave?" 

"I'm not worried about it," he says. 

There's a long silence, during which he strokes your shoulder with his thumb.

Then you whisper, "What now?"

"Mmm….We do it again, and again, and again. . ." 

You look up at him. "Are you mocking me?" 

He kisses you.

"I'm trying to have an adult conversation," you mock back.  

Then he whispers, "let's go to sleep" and kisses you good night. 

—-------

His Xmas party look 😍😍😍

Distressed stepdad art 🥹🥹🥹

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Your comments and reblogs mean a lot!!!! I love you guys. You can follow @toxicfics to turn on notifications. make sure your phone has push notifs enabled for tumblr.

If this is the first one you've read, I strongly recommend reading the series (it's not long like prob <15k total). there are references to it in this.

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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

[itsjustaninchident]

playdate 🐾

Mick Schumacher x Fem!reader

summary: where people are trying to connect two posts from mick and yn showing off their dogs👀🐾

warning/s: none

author's note/s: this is really just cute fun little concept 😅 running out of ideas (inbox is open if you want to request!<3)

yourusername

liked by tuckerbudzyn, good.boy.ollie, and 74,329 others

yourusername playdate with my boy🐾

view 6,540 comments...

user1 he's such a good boy!

user2 what a distinguished gentleman 🥰

tuckerbudzyn maybe we can play sometimes?

theolastname mum says yes!

user3 OMG I'D LOVE TO SEE THEO AND TUCKER IN ONE VIDEO

mickschumacher

liked by lewishamilton, estebanocon, and 456, 789 others

mickschumacher playdate with my girl

view 23,567 comments...

user1 I love you angie!!

user2 this is so suspicious...

user3 why?

user2 well, he doesn't usually post angie anymore 🤔

user3 how is that suspicious

user2 we'll see 😉

roscoelovescoco can i come's next time's?

user4 I LOVE ROSCOE SM😭

estebanocon hmmm 🤐

user5 estie bestie what do you know???? 🤨

user6 am i thinking what y'all are thinking

user7 no stop being delusional

user8 the caption is so similar with my favorite vlogger and her dog...

user9 yourusername???? Right...

user10 you're reaching babe

user11 let's get you to bed grandma

yourusername

liked by tuckerbudzyn, mickschumacher, and 123,456 others

yourusername Theo's zooming through the streets of Switzerland 🥰

view 1,456 comments...

user1 theo is so cute!😭

user2 I wish in another life that im a dog and yn's my mom and im zooming through Switzerland

user3 must not pass the opportunity to zoom!

user4 suspicious 🤔 why is mick here?

user5 probably finding angie a date?😄

user6 imagine if angie and theo meet each other?!

user7 that would be cute🥺

roscoelovescoco you look's good's my friend's !

theolastname all thanks to mum😄

user8 WHAT THIS IS SO CUTE

user9 THEY KNOW EACH OTHER?

user10 not me literally gushing over two celebrity dogs😭

user11 CAN WE SEE THEM BOTH IN THE PADDOCK

user11 am I the only one who thinks that mick is somehow involved in this and why'd he liked the post...

user12 i see... you're onto something

user13 now he can't even like a post without all of you assuming anything

user11 why is yn suddenly in Switzerland? Who lives in Switzerland?

user12 no no you're onto something

user11 also the post mick made with his dog angie with the caption almost sounding like a response to yn's post before this🤔

user14 take your delusions elsewhere babes

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton, and 32,456 others

yourusername beach trips and new paw friend!

view 10,238 comments...

user1 uhm,,, that dog is familiar

user2 omg cute!!!

user3 is that Angie???

user4 I'm assuming it is her given that Mick liked the post

user3 right...

lewishamilton maybe roscoe can stop by sometime?

theolastname of course uncle lewis!

user4 UNCLE LEWIS?!😭🥺

user5 THIS IS THE CUTEST CROSSOVER EVER

mickschumacher miss you three!

*this comment has been deleted*

user6 AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THE COMMENT FROM MICK?!

user7 maybe some of you weren't delusional at all

user8 I KNEW IT

user9 WAR IS OVER

user10 not my girl yn!!!😭

user11 WE'VE LOST ANOTHER BADDIE

user12 patiently waiting for the Twitter fans

via twitter...

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, estebanocon, and 345,430 others

mickschumacher with my lovely girls❤️

view 32,569 comments...

roscoelovescoco please don't's steal's my teacher's !

user1 turns out yn works in a doggie daycare?!

user2 it all makes sense now!

user3 THIS IS SO CUTE

user4 I KNEW IT

user5 do i need to buy a dog now so i can find myself a yn???

mickschumacher 10/10 would recommend but adopt not shop though

yourusername i taught you well 😄

user6 THIS IS SO WHOLESOME

user7 what i learned from this is that dogs are not only stress relievers but also put you out of being single

user8 i think my dog is doing it wrong happy for you though

user9 how do i send this to my dog so he can find me my lover

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, mickschumacher, and 102, 789 others

yourusername dogs' out of the bag?

view 12,789 comments...

yourusername should I say I have two goldies now? 🤭

user1 omg so this means mick's been her boyfriend since theo was young?!

user2 how old is theo tho?

user1 he's 1!

user2 1 YEAR AND NO ONE SUSPECTED ANYTHING?

user3 they're pretty good in hiding soo

user4 the pun in the caption?😭

user5 I LOVE YN (I've only met her today)

user6 oh to be yn with my golden retriever boyfriend and my two dogs

mickschumacher i always have to share you with theo

theoschumacher but you still love me dad!

user7 THE LAST NAME CHANGE

user8 SO CUTE OMG

user9 I LOVE THIS FAMILY SO MUCH

user10 lewishamilton i have an idea for u and roscoe

[droopycoquette]

WAG Life || Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: Lucy’s obsessed with the idea of you being her WAG

Warnings: established relationship, smut, strap-on, lucy having a domestic kink

Word Count: 2.6k

|*|

The plane rocked back and forth due to turbulence as Lucy scrolled through her Instagram feed and her heart stopped when she saw her girlfriend. Instantly liking it, she thumbed through the photos of the recent post. It was mainly pictures of you at the women’s World Cup but she felt herself pause when she saw one; a photo of you cooking. She could feel herself heating up but it all came to a point when she read your caption: 

Living my best WAG life.

She had always liked the idea of you being her little wife in the stands cheering her on and not having to work for anything. Only taking care of her, never wanting for anything, and relying solely on her. It was enough to make Lucy combust. You had no idea what you were doing to her, playing right into her fantasy without even realizing it.

"Fuck," she mumbled to herself.

As she scrolled through your posts, she noticed that you had posted a lot more homemaking content. Pictures of you cooking, cleaning, or rearranging things. If she didn't know better, she would think you were doing these things on purpose.

"Lucy, we're touching down soon," Millie called.

"Okay," Lucy mutters, not taking her eyes off her phone, off of you.

Lucy's need to see you doubled. She couldn't wait to get to your shared apartment and just be with you. You were all she could think about when the plane touched down. You were all she could think about when she was driving to the apartment. And you were all she could think about as she walked up the stairs.

Her insides tingled as she approached the door, unlocking it quietly and entering the space. She could hear footsteps on the hardwood floors before she could see the person they belonged to.

"Lucy!"

"Darling!"

You flew into her arms without a second thought, forcing her to drop her luggage to be able to catch you. Lucy automatically brought her hands under your butt to support you, groaning when she realized you weren't wearing pants

"You're home," you sighed into her neck.

"Damn right, I am."

"I missed you," you mumbled into her skin.

"I missed you," Lucy grinned, making her way over to the kitchen counter. "You know what else I missed?"

She could feel you shake your head.

"Your kisses."

You brought your face out of her neck finally and looked at her.

"I missed kissing you," you confessed, bringing your lips closer to hers.

Lucy couldn't take it anymore, softly placing her lips onto yours. The kiss was sweet and gentle as if you both were afraid to break the other. Lucy softly set you on the counter, the cold marble against your bare skin causing you to shiver.

As the footballer breaks the kiss, she looks around the apartment.

The last time Lucy had been in the apartment, you both had just bought it. It was empty save for a TV, a sofa, and a queen bed in the shared room. Now, it looked completely different. It looked like a home.

"You've been working," Lucy gawks.

"Do you like it," you ask shyly. "I wanted you to come home to something nice. You've worked so har-

She cut you off as she connected your lips once more, not being able to be away from you for long. Lucy could feel her insides melting at your words. This is everything she ever wanted.

"Everything is perfect," Lucy whispered in between kisses, rubbing your bare thighs. "It's beautiful."

Lucy watched as you beamed at the praise, a smile gracing your features.

"I was about to get started on dinner," you began. "Is there anything specific you want?"

Lucy almost moans at your question, "No, anything you make will be good."

You nod, giving her one more peck before getting to work and shooing her off to put her luggage away.

When Lucy returns, she can't keep her eyes off of you. The raven-haired woman was forced to watch as you hummed and twirled around the kitchen, cooking for her. You were cooking for her. It was enough to drive her mad.

"Luce, do you want to help me," you ask with a smile.

"No. I enjoy watching you," Lucy says simply.

"Okay."

As she watched you it dawned on her, you were wearing her old kit, the number 2 and the name "Bronze" showing proudly on the back. You really did have no idea what you were doing. Completely out of touch with how much you were turning your girlfriend on. Lucy could feel herself growing wetter and wetter by the minute.

"I think I'm going to go take a shower, love."

"Okay, I think everything should be in the shower caddy on the side. And the towels are in the cupboard under the sink," you explain, turning around and wiping your hands on a towel.

Everything you were doing was doing something to Lucy and it kind of annoyed her. She needed you so bad.

"O-okay," she stuttered walking off to the bathroom.

As she undressed, Lucy couldn't help but continue to think about you. Your words, your actions, your touch, all of it made her want you more and more. She turned the water on and stepped under the warm spray, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh. It felt amazing to be home and with you again.

She can't help but replay the scene in her head. You were cooking for her, taking care of her. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have you in her life. The steam filled up the bathroom as she lathered her body with soap. After a little bit, she hops out and quickly dresses in a sports bra and sweatpants.

She rounds the corner with her hands in her pockets and is greeted with a set table and you doing the dishes. She leans against the wall and watches you for a bit, nipping at her bottom lip and adjusting her glasses as she thinks. You hadn't noticed her yet, your attention focused on cleaning. So focused that you didn't notice her coming up behind you until you felt her hand around your waist and the other around your throat.

"Hello," you smile, the hand around your neck forcing you into an arch to face her.

"Hello," she smirked back, pecking your lips. "I was hoping you would join me in the shower."

"I'm sorry," you frown. "How about we take one tomorrow morning."

If you can walk, Lucy thought to herself.

"I love you being like this," Lucy sighs, releasing your neck and allowing you to turn and face her.

"Like what," you asked confused, loving the feeling of her arms around your waist.

"Like my little housewife," she sighs. "I love that you don't have to work and that you can just be home, taking care of me."

"I love doing it," you reply, wrapping your arms loosely around her neck.

After a beat of silence, you ask, "What are you thinking about?"

"You," Lucy whispers.

Her eyes stayed on yours as your breath hitched. You raised yourself up on your toes to shyly peck her lips, your hands loosely playing with strands of her hair Her hands trail from your waist to her shoulder blades.

"Jump."

You obey and wrap your legs around her waist, your lips automatically finding hers in a rough heated kiss. She devoured you, her tongue intermingling with yours as she did. She carried you to your shared bedroom, setting you down against the wall.

"What are you doing to me," Lucy asked, her accent thick.

You stared at her with doe eyes, confusion clouding them.

"Fuck, you've ruined me. I can't describe it. But, you've ruined me for anyone else."

You groan as she kisses your neck, her body pressed against yours firmly. Your moans only fueled her as she descended down to your core. Glancing up at you, she smirks as your brain begins to fizzle out, she can see it.

"What's got you so worked up, love," Lucy asks, her nose rubbing against your clothed slit. "Tell me."

"Fuck," you whimpered, your back pressing against the wall.

"I won't do anything until you tell me."

You gasp as her thumbs press against your hip bones, her hands holding the small of your back.

"Fuck," you whimpered. "I love being your housewife. It makes me feel really good."

Lucy moans into your thighs at your confession, her own thighs pressing together. Still kneeling, she raises herself up to kiss your stomach. Placing little pecks on your skin causing you to buck forward.

"Yeah? What else?"

"And, I love," you gasp as Lucy's tongue drags against your clothed core. "I love how you take care of me and how I don't have to think when you're around."

Lucy watched as you began to grind yourself onto her tongue, your hips shaking as your clit caught on the ridge of her wet muscle. She couldn't move as she watched in pure shock and awe. How were you so perfect? It was as if you were reading her mind.

Lucy's fingers hooked on your underwear as her eyes found yours. A smirk found its way onto her lips as your eyes quickly looked somewhere else, unable to handle the intensity. Cute.

Lucy slowly pulled your underwear down your legs, flinging them somewhere over her shoulder. You began to take your shirt off.

"No, love. Keep it on. Please keep it on," Lucy begged.

Your hands dropped the hem of the kit immediately.

"Love seeing you in this, baby," Lucy breathed, lifting one of your legs onto her shoulder. "Can't wait to fucking make you a Bronze."

You shuddered against her as her nose rubbed against your clit, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. Your hands moved to her hair, gripping it, keeping your girlfriend in place as her tongue lapped at your clit. You couldn't stop the sounds coming from your mouth, your head falling back against the wall.

You whimpered as your hips bucked up into her face. Lucy cooed at your embarrassment, smirking as you brought your hands up to your face.

You were the cutest little thing ever, your mouth open as you threw your head back against the wall. Lucy's fingers finally entered you, stroking your walls in a way that had your juices running down her arm.

"Look at that," Lucy groaned, lips still coated in you. "Did you need me that bad?"

"Please," you whimpered, hips bucking into her face.

"Please what," Lucy panted. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you baby. But you have to tell me."

"Hm? I can't hear you, love. You're gonna have to speak up."

"Fuck me, please," you gasped, as Lucy tapped on your clit.

Her muscles bulged as she stood, now towering over you.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

She lifted you up, wrapping your legs around her waist before connecting your lips. She was sure you felt it, the bulge in her sweats. Just to be sure, she began to grind her hips into you, loving the way you moaned into the kiss.

You knew Lucy loved wearing her strap around the apartment so you don't know why it shocked you. You had missed this feeling. Her tongue entered your mouth, wrapping around yours and deepening the kiss. You didn't know whose breath was who's.

You whimpered as she sat you down on the edge of the bed.

"Get on all fours for me," she commanded her accent coming out even more. "Don't fucking make me wait."

You're breath hitches at her roughness, immediately complying. Slowly moving to your knees in the the center of the bed. Your chest rose and fell rapidly from the anticipation as you felt the bed dip from Lucy's weight.

Lucy couldn't stop the warmth that spread through her chest at the sight of your eager submission to her. The way you slightly wiggled your hips in need, you didn't even realize you were doing it.

The older woman stroked the black silicone toy, groaning as if she could feel it. Tapping it on your entrance, she watched as a string of your juices connected the toy and your core.

"You don't even know how fucking hot you are, love."

You both groaned as Lucy pushed into you slowly, your back arching.

She began to pump into you, her hips grinding into you at a pace that was slow, yet deep. She loved watching your head hang and your hips push back against her in ecstasy at her slow but hard thrusts.

The defender leaned down to kiss your nape, her skin burning yours. She could hear your sharp and breathy whimpers and it drove her to pound into you.

She had missed this dearly. Your sounds and need for her. She missed her ability to touch you whenever she wanted, claiming you as hers.

"I don't know how I went this long without you," she groaned into your ear, her fingers reaching down to your clit.

You bucked up against her at the sensation, your stomach beginning to tighten. Lucy watched you with fervor, gazing as you took what she gave you. You were perfect, just for her.

Her fingers continued to rub against you and her hips rocked slowly.

"Please cum," she begged. "I want it so bad."

Your back arched as her fingers got rougher.

"Fuck," you groaned, throwing your head back.

Lucy's thrusts began to quicken, becoming harsher. She needed your pleasure and wanted to see you come undone. Lucy had always put your pleasure above anything else and right now was no different.

"Give it to me, my love."

Her begging continued to spur you on, your gut reaching its boiling point. You came harshly, Lucy's hips milking your bliss and lengthening your orgasm.

Her movements didn't stop. Instead, she flipped you over, your body slamming into the bed. She clasped her hands with yours and brought them over your head.

"I'll never get over watching you cum," she moaned, her clit catching on the strap.

Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you down to meet her thrusts. Her fingertips dug into the fat of your hips, loving the flesh between them.

You watched her arms flex as she held you down, her triceps on display. Sweat rolled down her quivering abdomen as she continued to pleasure you.

"Please," you groaned out, your body still spasming.

"Please what, sweetheart," Lucy smiled, her hips continuing to slam into you, leaving a burning sensation on the back of your thighs. "Tell me what you want. Do you want me here?"

She held both your wrists with one hand and allowed her fingers to return to your clit, tapping gently against the small nub. You gasped out at the overstimulation.

"You always were so needy," she grinned. "And I've always loved it."

"Lucy, please," you babbled, your body writhing beneath her. "A break, please."

She pouted mockingly and continued to thrust in and out of you.

"You want to be my little WAG in the stand, right? My little trophy wife?"

You nod, your cheeks heating, "Yes."

"Well, then you have to keep me happy. And what would make me really happy, baby, is for you to keep taking this cock."

[octuscle]

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

There are holidays that I'm convinced the world doesn't need… St. Patrick's Day, for example. I think it's perfectly fine to be proud of your heritage. I mean, I have an Italian grandmother. I'm totally proud of that. She makes the best pasta in the world. Hehehe, if you look at my belly, you can tell.

You see St. Patrick's Day parades on every channel. It's pure brainwashing! I look at my stomach again… Maybe I'll use the day to do something for my fitness. The streets are full of happy people. Intrusively cheerful people with funny green hats.

The guy at reception is wearing a green T-shirt. And has a shamrock painted on his cheek. I could puke. "Hi mate, nice to see you. Not much going on today. But we'd like to take a few pictures for social media later. Something along the lines of today-we've-trained-in-green. Would you wear this tank top for training?" He holds something green out to me. Fortunately without a shamrock or a funny gnome. It looks like a rugby jersey. Maybe a little big. I smile painfully. "Mate, give yourself a jolt! I'll give you a protein flat rate and free training for three months!" You don't care about the protein flat rate. But free training for three months… You'll save a good 150 dollars. Then it won't be so bad that you come here so rarely.

"Come on, give it to me!" you say and give him a fist bump. Fist bump? What's wrong with you today? All right… Put on your jersey, half an hour on the cross trainer, then maybe a bit of chest training. And then that should be it. And if you absolutely have to post pictures of it. You go to the changing area. Yawning emptiness. Exactly to your taste, actually! You undress, put on the sweatpants and then the jersey. You take a quick look in the mirror. An overweight quarter-Italian in a green rugby jersey. You doubt that this will bring the gym even one new follower, let alone a customer.

You usually start on the cross trainer with low resistance. Today you can try something new. It's empty, no one is watching, you can't embarrass yourself. So you go to the rowing machine. You have no experience with that. So you hit the maximum resistance. And off you go! After half an hour, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. Your jersey sticks to your chest, soaked with sweat. The gym employee stands in front of you with a grin. "Bro, those were some really awesome shots! What are you up to now?" You grumble that rowing is a good base for lat training. And that you're currently doing antagonist training. So combine it with chest training. "Nice, that should make for great pictures." You don't give a damn that the camera is following you the whole time. Focus on the training. And finally, no consideration for others. Moan and grunt when you feel like it. And today you're lifting the heavy weights. That requires a loud scream or two.

Shit, you've been here for almost three hours. You're done. You shout to your gym's social media representative that it's time for the final show. You take off your slightly too tight jersey with some difficulty. And wring out the sweat. You smile at the camera and say "Happy St. Patrick's Day, bros! Stay focused and train hard!" Your buddy gives you a fist bump and says it was a lot of fun with you again. You hand him your cell phone and ask him for a photo. For your own account.

Caption: "Is as Éirinn a thagann fir réadúla i gcónaí! Buailigí, a chairde, agus go raibh Lá Fhéile Pádraig iontach agaibh!"

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob ends up on thin ice with Molly after Bradley ends up on thin ice with her sister. But all he can think about is the perfect night he spent with her and how he'd be crushed if he didn't get a chance to do it all again. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob was trying his best to be in the moment at the Hard Deck, since he was the one who invited Molly's sister out for a drink. He wanted to say thank you for all the hard work she put in while Bradley was away. But he was so distracted. 

Molly had spent the entire day sending him selfies while she was at work, and some of them were definitely rated mature. Bob had almost broken his phone earlier trying to minimize a photo of Molly's pierced nipples when Coyote walked over to him. She had snapped the photo of herself in the bathroom at the hospital when she was on break along with the caption I miss you, Bobby <3

The little heart at the end reminded him that he had already said he loved her. He assumed she hadn't heard him, but it made him blush just the same. And now he was at the bar with her sister and Bradley, which should have been fun, but he just wanted to get home and see Molly. 

Bob watched Nat and Jake both relentlessly flirt with Team Mom, but there was no way she had eyes for anyone except Bradley. And then he wondered what it would be like if he brought Molly here. He wanted to, because he already wanted to be with her all the time. But...Bob looked around at all the guys, and that feeling of self doubt was back. Jake was handsome and charming, and probably the kind of guy Molly was used to being with. 

When Nat offered to buy a drink for Team Mom, Bob cut her off, glad for the distraction. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?" And while he was up at the bar, waiting patiently for Penny to fill his order, Molly's sister ran out of the bar, followed closely by Bradley. 

"What happened?" Bob asked, holding two beers while Jake rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He mumbled a response and walked away, but when Bradley finally came back inside, he looked like he was ready to kill Jake. 

And then the barrage of text messages from Molly came through. Bob's eyes went wide as he read them.

Are you aware that your buddy Bradley is actually a fucking dickhead? I can't BELIEVE what he did to my sister! 

Seriously, Bob. Why didn't you warn my sister about him?! What the fuck! He called Everett baggage!

Please tell me you're not like him!

You know what? Maybe I don't want to find out. 

Bob called her immediately, but she didn't answer. When he got her voicemail, he said, "Mo, please call me back so we can talk, okay? I don't think Bradley meant any of what he said. He's not a bad guy. And I... don't think I could ever do anything to hurt you." He contemplated telling her he loved her again, but he ended the call before he could. 

He was already home for the night when he got one last text from her.

I'm not coming over. 

Bob collapsed in his bed, raking his fingers through his hair, wondering if this, of all things, was what would cost him his chance with her.

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

Molly was having a wonderful evening with Everett. They painted huge masterpieces on poster boards and left all the messy brushes in the kitchen sink. Molly secretly loved leaving an innocuous mess for her sister to clean up in her otherwise spotless house. It kept her on her toes. 

"Movie time? With ice cream?" she asked Everett, checking the time. Of course she'd let him stay up late. That's just what aunts did. 

"There's ice cream?!" he shouted, sprinting back into the kitchen.

"Of course there's ice cream," she replied, kneeling in front of the freezer. "I know all of your mom's secrets. She thinks she's so sneaky, but you can't get anything past me." After removing all the healthy, pre portioned frozen dinners, Molly hit the jackpot. There was a gallon of fudge ripple and a gallon of vanilla raspberry. "See?" she asked Everett, holding them both up.

"Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple!" he chanted, and soon they were watching a PG-13 movie with two spoons stuck in the ice cream carton. 

"Want some more?" she asked, passing the carton to him.

He took a bite and said, "I don't think my mom wanted me to watch this movie."

Molly sighed and shook her head. "I'll cover your eyes for the scary parts, okay?"

"Okay!" he agreed.

Molly took a few more bites before she asked him, "You like Coach Bob, right?"

"Oh yeah, like a whole lot," he replied. "Almost as much as I like Coach Bradley."

"That's a lot," Molly muttered. "I like him, too." She was smiling as Everett looked at her. 

"You should probably marry him," he said seriously. "I heard my mom say that Coach Bob is smart and nice and that she never thought you could do so well."

Molly scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That sounds exactly like something your mom would say, and that's exactly why we are eating her overpriced ice cream without her. Now close your eyes for the scary part."

About twenty minutes later, Everett was sound asleep on her lap while she finished the ice cream. Then she carried him up to bed, starting to get a little nervous that her sister would be back soon. She tucked him in, turned on his nightlight, and then hightailed it back to the kitchen to hide the evidence of the empty ice cream carton. 

But when she got home, Molly could tell something was wrong and went right into protective jungle cat mode. "What happened?" she asked softly as soon as she saw her sister's tear streaked cheeks and quivering lips.

After a few minutes of being held in Molly's arms, she was able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

"That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," she said softly against Molly's shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said vehemently. 

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

It had been more than a makeout session, but Molly wasn't going to correct her. She was so into Bob after being intimate with him, that she was devastated now. Because Molly knew she would ditch him in an instant, even if it would hurt, in order to support her family. 

Molly kissed her sister's cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

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

Bob barely slept, and he was wide awake before his alarm went off on Saturday morning for the tee ball game. He hadn't heard another word from Molly. Even if she wanted to yell over the phone, he would have loved to hear her voice. 

When he arrived at the ballfield, Bradley was already there. "You look like shit," Bob told him, and he could hear the disappointment in his own voice. 

Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."

"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley didn't hang around at the bar last night after things blew up, so Bob really wasn't sure exactly how bad it was.

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."

Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday."

Now Bradley looked sincerely upset on Bob's behalf. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."

"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."

Then Bob felt his heart lurch as he looked up toward the parking lot and saw Molly and Everett headed his way. "I'll be right back," he mumbled and headed for her immediately. 

Everett ran past him, calling out, "Hi, Coach Bob!" before continuing on to Bradley. But Bob had his sights set on Molly and her beautiful face filled with indignant anger.

"Molly," he gasped, wanting to reach for her as she came stomping to a halt in front of him. She was glorious. God, he was in love with her.

"Tell me you knew," she demanded. "Tell me you knew Bradley was trying to play my sister." She was practically vibrating with concealed rage now. "Tell me you fucking knew he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as them."

Bob swallowed hard, and her eyes flashed. "Molly, he loves them. I don't think he would do or say anything to intentionally hurt either of them." 

"He has a sick way of showing it," she spat. "He called Everett baggage."

Bob held his forehead in his hands. "I think Bradley just needs to talk to her. He's so crazy about them, he's really beating himself up."

Bob watched Molly glance past him to glare at Bradley while he helped Everett get ready for the game. "He can rot," she said, but her voice was softer now. "And so can you if you agree with what he said." 

"I don't," he promised. "Please, Molly. I...I missed you yesterday as soon as I dropped you off at your car. I missed you all night. I missed texting with you until one of us fell asleep."

She looked up at him, eyes searching his face. She muttered, "I missed you, too," and then she was heading toward the bleachers. 

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

Molly was finding it hard to keep giving Bob the cold shoulder after another day. She was spending a lot of her time with her sister and nephew, sleeping over there and taking Everett out to keep him entertained.

She didn't feel any better after she blew up at Bradley. In fact Molly felt worse, because she sensed that Bradley really was sincere in the way he just wanted to apologize. And he clearly doted on Everett. Maybe he really did just want a chance to apologize, but Molly knew her sister wasn't ready to listen yet.

Her phone went off, and she reached for it while she was making coffee at her place late on Sunday morning. 

Coach Cute Glasses: I miss you, Molly. 

She groaned; the gas station flowers were in the vase right next to her, and she was trying not to look at them. Casey never did anything like give Molly flowers. He'd given her some hickeys and exactly two orgasms. But he also hadn't been friends with anyone who hurt her sister. 

She moaned helplessly. Her body was betraying her. She wanted to spend another night curled up with Bob, all warm and protected. She wanted to feel his even breathing and listen to his soft voice as she fell asleep. "Damn it," she whined, typing out a message to him.

Miss you, too. Any chance I'm still invited to your place? 

Molly was weak for Bob. She knew that already. Just one night with him, and she was constantly daydreaming about him at work. His rough hands. And how sweet he was. And how he wanted to be exclusive with her already. And his big cock. 

Coach Cute Glasses: You are always invited. Please, Molly, anytime. Do you want to spend the night with me? 

Molly snorted as she read the text, but another one was already coming through.  

Coach Cute Glasses: I didn't mean that the way it probably sounded! I'd just love to see you. I would be so happy if you wanted to come by, and even happier if you wanted to stay with me all night. I liked how it felt to wake up in bed with you. 

Molly tucked her phone into the pocket of her scrubs. He could wait it out for a bit. That sort of thing was good for a man. Especially one who was that eager to see you. But by the time she parked at the hospital, she texted him back. 

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

Bob was in such a panic. Molly was coming over. And he wasn't sure if she was upset with him or just Bradley. He wasn't sure if she was planning on staying over. 

"I'm sorry," Bradley told him for the hundredth time when he called him. "I'm sorry if I blew it for you."

"I'm going to talk to Molly in a few hours," Bob said, rushing through the parking lot to his truck. He was running around, grocery shopping, trying to distract himself. 

"Can you tell her I miss her sister and Ev?" Bradley asked.

"I'll try," Bob promised as he got into his truck and ended the call.

Molly worked until 8 o'clock. He had a few hours to kill before he'd see her, so he wasn't quite sure why he was rushing. Then he stopped for more gas station flowers and cleaned his already spotless condo. He tried to eat dinner, but he couldn't stomach anything except toast. And when he finally heard her ringing the intercom button, he ran to answer it.

"It's Molly," she said softly, and he quickly let her into the building. He stood with his front door open, and a minute later, there she was. She had changed after work, and she looked stunning. No make-up at all and just some jeans and a crop top, but Bob felt suddenly short of breath. He wanted to run his hand along the flower tattoos on her side, and kiss her there too. 

"Molly," he whispered, fighting the urge to blurt out another I love you. He needed to keep it together right now. "Come in."

She walked past him and looked slowly around his living room and dining room while he closed and locked his door. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and suddenly he felt a little ridiculous that his place was so sparse. 

"Very clean," she muttered, her voice and clothing filling the space with so much color and warmth as she examined the gas station flowers. "I wouldn't know how to keep up with it," she said, turning and smiling softly at him. 

"I missed you," he blurted out, and her smile grew.

"Tell me more," she demanded, turning to fully face him. 

Bob swallowed and took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He was afraid he was going to stutter or say something stupid, but Molly just smiled at him, her all-knowing eyes gentle on his face as she waited.

"I...can't get you out of my mind. I called the runway attendant Molly by accident earlier, because I was thinking about you. Phoenix, my pilot, will never let me live it down."

Molly's laughter had him taking a step closer. "Tell me more," she said, also taking a step toward him. 

"I can't stand the thought of you being upset with me," he said sincerely. He ducked his head and added, "Thursday evening was one of the best nights of my life. Because I spent it with you." He paused, finally daring to meet her eyes.

"Oh, keep going," she said with a nod. "You're doing great."

"I want you to believe I'd never be friends with Bradley if I didn't think he was a good person. And I think he just got a little mixed up. Your sister and nephew really threw him for a loop, you know? But he really loves them."

Molly hummed and shrugged. "I guess I could relay that message to my sister. But I also have a message from me to you."

Bob took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I missed you, too. I can't stop thinking about you either. And Thursday night and Friday morning, you were so sweet to me, I just want more." Then she kissed his chin and took his hands in hers. "I want you to touch me."

Bob pulled her close as she placed his hands at her waist. He would never get used to being around her, not as easily as she seemed to already know how he operated. She looked up at him, gaze open and earnest. Soft fingers gliding up his arms, tucking into the short sleeves of his tee shirt and gently squeezing his biceps. She placed three soft kisses to the corner of his lips, and he was done. He had to fight the invading thoughts of her nipple piercings and the way her body feels and looks when she's whining for him in her bed beneath him.

"Molly," he begged, but he wasn't sure what he was begging for. 

"Bobby?" she asked softly, pushing one hand through his hair and keeping his gaze focused on her. "I think I need you to fuck me."

"Oh," he groaned, turning her and pushing her back against the wall. He caged her in, and she looked absolutely delighted. 

"If you want to." Her voice was soft and sweet, and her gaze was anything but.

"Honey," Bob managed between ragged breaths as she let her hands come to rest on his abs. She was messing with him. Messing him up completely. She knew exactly what she was doing, but meanwhile, Bob was new to this game. But he was a quick study. A fast learner. 

So when Molly licked her lips and pouted, saying, "You don't want me Bobby? I thought you wanted to be the only one," he was ready for her. 

He wedged one thigh up between her legs, and she gasped. Then his mouth was on hers, rough and demanding. She was grabbing for his shoulders, rubbing herself all over him. He could feel her teeth, digging into his bottom lip, not hard, but definitely not soft. When she released him, she licked his lips until her tongue was in his mouth. 

Bob was rock hard, and try as he may to keep control in this moment, he couldn't. Because Molly was stroking him through his pants and tasting his mouth. Her nose was rubbing along his as she whispered, "Do you want me, Bobby?"

He reached down, wrapping both of his hands around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up into his arms. Then her lips were on his neck and her arms were wrapped around him as he took her to his bedroom. She was on her back on his bed, kicking her shoes off while her little top rode up so Bob could see the soft undersides of her breasts. There was too much to admire here, and he froze up. 

When Molly's hands found the zipper of her jeans, she whispered. "I want you to say it, Bobby. I want you to tell me everything you plan to do to me." And then her hand was slipping inside her underwear, and she was stroking herself as he watched. 

"Mo," his voice was hoarse. He pushed her knees apart and settled between her legs, bending to kiss her wrist before pulling her hand free of her jeans. "I want to put my mouth on you."

The smile that curled along her lips as she started to shimmy out of her jeans and underwear should have made him a little nervous, but he was beyond help. Her bare pussy was right there, and she smelled so good. As soon as her jeans hit his floor, Bob's face was buried in her. 

"Alright, Lieutenant Floyd," she moaned softly. "Okay." And to Bob's delight and dismay, Molly's hands were on her own breasts, pushing her shirt up and playing with her piercings. She tasted so good as he ran his tongue through her wetness and sucked on her clit. But soon he was rutting into the bed, the sight of her fingers on those little barbells spurring him on. 

When Bob slipped his tongue inside her, Molly's back arched off the bed as she started whining for him. "Bobby, I want your big cock." He grunted in response, willing to give her anything in this moment, and shocked by how much he liked her dirty talk. 

He worked the zipper over his painfully hard erection and scrambled to get himself free. And then he was rocking into her at the same time he got his mouth on her nipples. 

"Yes," she hissed softly, head tipped back with a soft giggle on her lips. He was fucking her, and it felt just as perfect as it had a few days previously. Like her whole body was made for him. Like every response from her perfect lips was just what he needed to hear. "So fucking big."

He pushed those little, silver barbells around with his teeth and tongue, tugging a little bit until Molly was gasping his name. When he sucked harder on her nipples, she was screaming for him. And when she came on his cock, holding his face against her breasts and shaking beneath him, Bob could hardly believe he'd been able to make her orgasm again. 

"Molly," he gasped. "I love the way you shake."

"Oh my god," she moaned as he fucked her through her little tremors. But then she was sitting up, kissing his face, and Bob slipped out of her perfect warmth as she moved to kneel on his floor.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as she guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. She pulled her shirt over her head, and ran her hands up over his thighs. Bob's pants were pulled down to his knees, and Molly pushed them to his ankles before wrapping her pretty lips around his cock. She settled in between his legs, and Bob could only stare at her and try to memorize the obscene sounds they made together. 

Molly was good at this. She was good at everything. Bob tried to keep up, but her mouth felt too perfect. And then she popped up onto her knees and started running the tip of his cock along those pretty piercings. "Molly!"

"You like that?" she asked coyly, but Bob was hypnotized by the look and feel of the barbells on his erection. With a soft groan, Molly squeezed her perfect breasts together, sandwiching Bob between them. He thrust himself up closer to her mouth, and sure enough, she parted her pretty lips and licked him. Bob continued to do this until he was grunting and Molly's saliva was dripping down her chest, making the sensations even more spectacular for him. 

Slick saliva, wet breasts and Molly's mouth. "Oh!" he grunted, stroking her cheek with his knuckles as she sucked on him. But when she took his tightening balls in her soft hand and gave him a little squeeze, Bob came hard, without any warning. He watched in alarm as his cum spurted all over her lips and cheeks while she giggled. Molly jerked him off until he was gasping for air and wishing he had enough in him to coat her whole body, because it looked that pretty.

She licked her lips and opened her eyes, and Bob watched as his cum dripped down from her eyelashes, along her cheek and landed on her nipple piercing. Molly took his hand in hers and ran his fingers through the mess before guiding his hand up to her lips. She tasted him there and ran her tongue between his long fingers and across his palm. 

"You made the mess," she whispered before sucking on his thumb for a beat. "Now you have to help me clean up."

"Gladly," he promised, nearly rocketing off the bed as she set his hand on her breast. Bob used his wet thumb to collect his cum from her piercing and then he let her take his hand between her lips again. But then he was on the floor with her, pushing her gently onto her back as she laughed. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, but the words died on her lips when Bob licked his own cum off of her chest before kissing her and letting her taste it. He held both of her wrists in his hands above her head, and he was treated to the sights and sounds of Molly. She was rubbing her pussy along his soft length as she licked his cum from his mouth, and Bob just enjoyed making out with her on the floor. Everything tasted like him and smelled like Molly, and he listened to her soft laughter. 

His hands and shirt were a mess of cum, and Molly's pretty face absolutely lit up for him when he whispered, "I like the way I taste on your skin."

"Bobby. You fucking deviant," she moaned, taking his face between her slightly sticky palms and leaning up to kiss his lips. She wrapped one leg around his waist to keep his body against hers, and Bob let his cheek come to rest on her chest. He'd never been called anything close to that before, but he could tell he'd lose himself in the moment with Molly over and over again like this if she'd keep letting him. 

And then he blurted out, "You're not mad at me then?" while she combed her fingers through his hair. 

She hummed in contemplation. "No, I'm not mad at you, Coach Bob. I'm pissed off at Bradley, and I'm trying to protect my family. But I'm not mad at you."

Bob sighed in relief and ran his fingers along her pretty tattoo. He had found it actually painful the way she'd been avoiding talking to him, but he could see where she was coming from. 

"That makes me happy. And I can understand you wanting to protect them. They are where your loyalty lies."

"Don't fuck with my family," she whispered softly as she turned her head, and Bob glanced up at her as she swiped at her eyes. "I hardly have any left."

Bob could sense that she wanted him to change the subject, so he kissed her soft skin and said, "I like your tattoos."

She laughed sardonically and said, "Thanks."

"Did you get the carnation tattoos because it's your favorite flower?" he asked, running his index finger along the colorful ink.

"No," she told him. She was quiet for a moment, and Bob started sweating before she asked, "Did you know that there are different flowers that coordinate with your birth month?" 

Bob had heard of this before. "Sure," he told her, wondering where she was going with this. 

Her voice sounded a little rough, but her fingers were still soft in his hair as she said, "My parents were both born in January. Carnations were their birth flowers. That's why I have the tattoo. And kind of why I love the gas station flowers."

"Oh," Bob said, about to add that she didn't need to talk about it if she didn't want to. But then she rolled a little closer to him as he sat up, and she pointed to the other three flowers mixed in.

"The morning glory is for my sister's birthday. The chrysanthemum is mine. And the pretty red rose is for Everett's birthday in June. I got that one the day after he was born. It's actually my favorite one."

"It's beautiful," Bob told her, running his thumb along the chrysanthemum and meeting her eyes. 

"Listen," she told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I'm protective of my sister. She took care of me when our parents both died. I moved in with her while she finished college. She shared her bed with me and made sure I ate. She sold my parent's house and gave me most of the money to pay for nursing school and a new, reliable car. And the fact that I can occasionally help her out a little bit now is really important to me. So if you think I need to castrate Bradley, you should probably just tell me now, okay?"

Bob laughed in spite of himself. "Maybe a kick to the nuts, but castration is probably not necessary, Honey. He's beating himself up enough, I can tell you that much. And I honestly think Bradley would jump in front of a moving car for Everett." 

"See, now that's what I like to hear," she told him, sitting up and draping her arms around him. Her skin was a little sticky from his cum, and Bob let her push him back until he was laying on the floor underneath her this time. She settled her chin in his chest and looked up at him. "Now tell me when your birthday is, Lieutenant Cute Glasses. I want to know how your flower would look in my tattoo bouquet."

Bob could feel his cheeks warming up. She wanted to know what a tattoo in his honor would look like on her perfect skin. And now she was just lounging right there on him, naked as the day she was born and just completely flawless. And she was waiting, just like she always did. Waiting until he was ready to say what he was thinking, but never rushing him.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I have the most embarrassing birthday," he told her, and she cocked her head to the side. 

"Oh," she sighed. "April twentieth?" 

"No," he told her. "Worse. Leap day. February 29th."

"Oh! No, that's such a good one, Bob!" she insisted. "And your flower would be a violet. So pretty!"

But he just kept shaking his head. "Mo, you don't understand, Honey."

"Then explain it to me," she whispered, kissing his chest and stroking his skin. 

"My name is Bob. B O B. Bob. I got the nickname Baby On Board during flight training a decade ago, because I was technically five years old...."

She blinked at him a few times before she burst into laughter. Bob waited while Molly rolled around on the floor, gripping her sides and gasping for air. "And technically how old are you now?" she managed to ask through her laughter.

Bob waited until she calmed down a bit more. "Eight."

"Eight!" she screeched. "Don't say that to me! We've had sex!" Her laughter had Bob chuckling too now. "How old would you be if you had a birthday every year?" she asked, eyes wide as she giggled.

"Thirty two."

"Thirty two! Perfect," she sighed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I'm not going to get arrested then."

Bob rolled his eyes and whispered, "I think a new flower would look pretty good in your bouquet."

And now Bob was thinking about a violet tattoo on her skin next to the other pretty flowers as Molly curled up on his bedroom floor with her arm wrapped around him. 

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

Bob without Molly....it just doesn't make sense. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 5

@theamuz

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@bradshawsbitch

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@t-nd-rfoot

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@the-fever-of-mankind

@yanna-banana

@lovingperfectionsblog

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@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@shrimping-for-all

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@mannsachds

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@greatszu

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@chicomonks

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@wolfquake23

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@toobouquet

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@seitmai

@tigermoon3

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@amiets2

[tf-lover]

Caption Series - Empty Bets

"You kidding? Nah faggot I ain't giving you this back. This body was meant to fuck pussy and pass on its godlike genes, not be wasted on a fairy like you." Marcus sneered as he flexed.

Brad had a worried look in his eyes as he looked up at his own body. "Please Marcus, you can't just steal my body like that! It's not right! I put 10 years of work into looking like that, not you!"

Marcus strode up to Brad and grabbed the front of the now smaller man's clothes. He lifted him off the ground with ease, almost a foot off the floor because of their height difference. "Listen here. I'm Brad Manning now, not you. You were wasting this on being a faggot, so I'm putting shit right." He spat out. "Can't believe I was friends with a closet homo this whole goddamn time, makes me sick."

"But..." Brad could barely get a word out as he was forced to dangle off the floor. "What about us? I'm your best friend Marcus, are you really going to throw that all away over this?? I've told you so many times I'll help you workout and you always said no!"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Well I guess you ruined that by being a fag didn't you?" There was a little flicker of sadness in his eyes, but that was soon replaced by anger. "I'm gonna miss you man, but I can't be seen around a cocksucker. Unless that cocksucker has a pair of tits!" Marcus laughed.

"Would you at least put me fucking down then asshole?" Brad scowled, too angry at Marcus to mourn the loss of their friendship.

Marcus' eyes flicked down to the front of Brad's shirt as the cogs in his mind started to turn. He still had a little lingering magic from what he used to switch them, just enough for what he was thinking of doing. "Now I'm on the outside, my old body really was a piece of crap. It would be much better with a couple of additions.."

Without any warning, Brad let out an involuntary moan as he felt his chest begin to swell outwards. Softer and larger as his nipples tingled and grew, whilst at the same time he felt his cock start to pull inwards. He wasn't an idiot, he knew what was happening to him. The long hair that flicked down in the edges of his vision all but confirmed it; Marcus was turning his old body female.

"Now, if you looked like this on the other hand... Then I could see us definitely staying friends." Marcus pulled the newly female Brad closer. "Way more than friends, if you catch my drift..."

Brad gulped. There were so many alien sensations going on in his body at the moment he barely knew how to process any of them. Least of all the sensitive tits that had his new pussy wet with every shift of his now too small t-shirt against his nipples.

"My old body you're in looks far better female, and I bet a fag like you has always wanted to know what riding your own cock would be like..." Marcus whispered. "What'd you say? Get your old friend back, and a hot boyfriend? All you gotta do is give in baby..."

"Fuck... This is such a bad idea...." Brad said as he glanced down at Marcus' bulge. The bugle that five minutes ago had been his. The bulge that he was heavily considering letting Marcus fuck the new hole between his legs with.

"That ain't a no..."

Brad's fragile willpower snapped. He reached down and started to rub his clit whilst the other hand squeezed his new sensitive chest. "Fuck me Brad, before I change my mind. If you don't make me believe we're better like this we're switching back, okay?"

Marcus, now officially Brad, grinned. "Deal baby. But you know how good this body can fuck, especially now it's straight like it was always supposed to be!"

[20dollarlolita]

Steal this look:

Recently, I've been feeling the need to build a few more easy and cheap lolita tutorials. In the interest of getting back to the budget lolita roots, I thought it was time to give this old post a remake:

[image caption: Family came over and I didn't want to leave my room so I made a headband with hot glue. Posted 8 years ago on Jan 3, 2015]

So, today I made a headband with hot glue. I didn't take pictures, but here's a rough run through of what I used, so you can make one too:

a 2" wide headband, which seem to run about $8, which is a lot more than I expected. Inflation's a bitch. Going to have to change the blog to 50dollarlolita to keep up.

This project did not remotely take 54 yards of cluny lace, but honestly if you're going to make handmade lolita, you should buy 54 yards of cluny lace. (I have not bought from this listing, but it looks pretty legit). If we math it out per yard, it used about 40 cents worth of lace.

I have actually bought this ribbon in multiple colors. Once again, it's a really good thing to have on hand if you make lolita. If you only buy one color, I recommend buying the color that you can use for the back lacing of most of the dresses you own. Those ribbons always seem to get lost when I do laundry, and it's also an easy way to pick a color that you'll use for accessories. $6 for 100 yards comes out to about 12 cents worth of ribbon.

I can't begin to fully articulate how valuable having trims available is for making handmade lolita. Lolita fashion is all about putting as many details into a garment as you can tastefully add, and being able to "Oh, this would be nice to have a ribbon! Oh, this would be nice with a line of lace!" can really help you push your designs to the right level of detail.

Fake flower heads and leaf ribbon. I almost didn't include the leaf ribbon in this list, but I think it really added something. I don't find a ton of need for this in lolita fashion, but it seems the smallest amount you can buy is like 20 yards. (I actually got my flowers and leaf ribbon from a cheap flower crown, but it seems you have to buy the flower crowns in packs of 10, making it more expensive than getting the components).

The flowers that I have on my headband came with a little felt tab on the back, which made them easier to glue. It might be worth it to glue a felt strip onto the plastic stem, and then glue that onto the headband.

I'm not going to count the selvedge edge of the fabric that i had lying around. You probably also have fabric scraps lying around.

Assembly strategy is a little bit up to you, but here's my thoughts:

I wrapped the headband with a scrap of fabric, and then wrapped ribbon around that in the other direction. In addition to looking nice, I think that wrapping in opposite directions is going to make the fabric wrap stronger. The front ruffle is just a 1.5-2" wide lace (I didn't measure) that was sloppily pleated. Each pleat was tacked down with hot glue.

To cover the sloppy pleats, I stuck a piece of lace over the pleated edge. This smoothed things out, and I believe that will also help reduce damage to the ruffle. The lace here is beading lace, which is intended for you to weave a ribbon through. The only ribbon I had was too wide, so I just glued the beading on top and hoped no one would notice. Spoiler alert: no one did.

What I've noticed on these kinds of accessories is that they need two things to feel complete: they need some kind of element to frame the face and make the headband visible from the front, and they need a large accessory at each ear. This isn't universally true for all substyles, but I've found that in general, it's what I shoot for.

I had an old flower crown from a party, so i just cut some roses and leaves off that crown and stuck them on the sides. I added some little ribbon bows to help sell the "this is not me cheating at beading lace" illusion.

(If you're looking for inspiration for doing this without a ruffle or a side focus, and you don't know where to start looking, I'd start with Innocent World and Moi Meme Moitie).

If you're buying ALL the components listed here, so buying all 50+ yards of lace and 100 yards of ribbon, it's going to be $37. This is a lot, but it's cheaper than a taobao headdress once you factor in shipping. If we only count the cost of what will be used in the headband, it comes out to about $13. I really cannot express enough how much having lace and ribbon on hand will improve your handmade lolita life, so if you're looking for an excuse to buy a lot of lace, here's your excuse.

And that's it! Put it on your head and you're good to go out into the world!

I think this is a great improvement over the one I made 8 years ago, although the other one did a better job at avoiding my family.

Just a quick note about building with hot glue: less is more. It's easier to hid small dots than to hide big long lines. Get a silicone thimble and really push your glued material into the glue (note: i live on the edge and just lick my finger and smooth it down, and I get burned a lot). The more texture an item has, the more likely it'll glue well. How your piece is structured will impact its longevity, so think about the strongest possible way to construct something. And if you don't like hot glue, but still want to make this, my suggestion would be to use Aleen's Super Fabric Adhesive and letting it cure between steps. My other hot glue advice is that if your design is a mess, good construction won't save you, and if your glue is a mess, good design won't save you. So this is a case where hot glue is already saving you 96 hours of cure time, so respect it and be careful.

I made this to coordinate with this dress, because the dress has some pretty modern elements like the rose trim and the sleeves, that want to push it into being a very extravagant dress, but it also don't have enough room to be very poofy (not that I'm wearing a petticoat anyway, but y'all know what I mean). I don't know how to articulate the difference between silky polyester lolita dresses and old cotton twill lolita dresses, but this is definitely better with the silky poly than the cotton twill.

[r0-boat]

Random Emmet hcs

Just a collection of random thoughts I had about him every once when I had various thoughts about him. Or things I've changed my mind about when I made posts like this similar in the past. Anyways enjoy! ( I miss writing Submas :( )

Sfw below cut for length

Follow me on this blog for multifandom writing content (mostly Pokemon)

He's very competitive when it comes to anything with competition although he's very good at Pokemon battles, because to him winning a battle not only means better in skill and raising your Pokemon but also a bigger Bond with trainer and companion he is actually happy when he loses because it still means he has a lot to learn and grow which he is always happy to know more, and he gets to see a happy trainer and happy Pokemon celebrate their victory is there a greater reward than that? But for some reason video games he becomes a sore loser no yelling no Tantrums just silent anger stowing in his Petty thoughts he'll never act out.

He was lying on his living room floor with a blanket topped over him in a T-shirt and sweatpants when he was sick because, for some reason, the floor felt better than his own bed.

Hangs up memes around the office or sends his friends semi cursed images / memes for no reason with little too no explanation. And has a whole folder in his phone just for joltik/other bug pokemon image memes, just in case he needs to react to anything he can't put into words.

I still think he likes to play scary games but his favorite ones are the ones he gets to play with his friends and laugh at their deaths. Skyla and Emmet give each other Petty nicknames and fight with each other on the regular especially over text online and in games. They fight like siblings which is funny because image is actually really close with his brother and doesn't understand why a lot of people aren't packed with their siblings. Sometimes, your sibling's actions can get on your nerves, but their family are sometimes the only ones who can understand you.

He takes self degradation even if they're jokes very seriously.

If Emmet could he would be a full-time joltik breeder I mean don't get me wrong he probably has dozens of them but I mean those breeders that have cool morphs of like certain lizards, snake and insects. Because I refuse to believe in the world of Pokémon that they are no Pokemon that are the same species but with different patterns/ fur or scale color/ breeds etc. He tried to do it himself, but he was stopped by a certain someone

Emmet cannot have TikTok downloaded as much as he loves the app; he will spend hours and hours on it and flood his poor brother and Friends with 99+ notifications. One of the depot agent managers runs the official TikTok account, and before they post anything, both brothers have to check for inappropriate content.

Emmet is either very photogenic or takes very cursed blurry photos there is no between. They'll either be a photo that looks almost professionally done with perfect lighting with his loose tie and shirt half buttoned while another one will have the lighting making it look like his eyes are glowing while the entire photo is dark with his hand coming down on the camera with a caption that says "POV: you're a bug Pokemon"

Still trying to win Nimbasa's hottest Bachelor after his brother who had one the last 3 years in a row😔

Genshin player/bias

[sunshinekindof]

I trust you, silly

Timothee and I have been married for several months. Of course, I knew what I was getting into when I said yes to him. Crazy schedule, long breakups, his fame, sidelong glances in my direction. And also rumors. Of course, I knew that all this would happen, and I was completely ready for anything. To be completely honest, I was prone to overthinking, but I honestly tried to control myself. Sometimes it seemed to me that Timothee was going through just as much as I did. He knows that I love him, but, as he sometimes tells me, "I'm just afraid that I'm not worthy of you." To which I usually laugh at the stupidity of this thought. He is everything I wanted and more.

Timothee was filming a new movie in another state. He called me every time he had a free minute. I was happy to hear his voice, but I wanted him to take care of himself and get some sleep. Sometimes he may forget that he needs to do things like sleep and eat. To which he always replied that he was fine and asked how my day went.

Today is my day off, Timothee won't be back any time soon, and our apartment has long needed a thorough cleaning. It seems that I have found something to do with myself.

We didn't get to talk yesterday. In the morning I sent him a message wishing good morning and a good day, to which he has not yet answered. While I was having breakfast, I decided to scroll through the Twitter feed. When I was scrolling through the news, photos of Timothee with his co-star, female co-star began to appear to me. Kristen, if I'm not mistaken. For my taste, she stood too close to him. The photo was accompanied by the caption “Problems in Paradise?”. Then there was a photo in which Kristen put her hand on my husband's shoulder. Timothee was standing with his back to the camera in the photo, so I couldn't see his face. Fans have been waiting for the release of this movie. There were a lot of fanarts that showed Timothee and Kristen together. Like together. Then I saw a short video of Kristen putting her hand on Timothy's chest and laughing. There were more photos, but I refuse to look at them. Ok, that`s enough. Enough Twitter for today. I am not a masochist.

I have no doubts about Timothee, but nevertheless I felt my blood boil involuntarily. Kristen may be the star of this movie, but Timothee is mine. I could not resist and called him, but he did not answer. Okay, enough thinking. He will call back as soon as he can. As always.

Leaving my phone on the table, I turned on the music at full volume and went to clean up. Organizing things helps you relax. After cleaning, I went to the farmers' market. Our refrigerator was empty. While I was away, my phone died. After 4 hours (oops), I finally went home and almost dropped my grocery bags. Timothee was walking towards me, holding a telephone in his hands, and traces of panic on his face.

- How ..., - I began, but he did not let me finish and wrapped his arms tightly around me. Along with packages.

- Timothee! Packages…can't hold…” I started, feeling the groceries drop from my hands onto the floor. In response, he only pulled away from me for a moment, put away his purchases, and clung to me again.

“Hey baby…don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to have you here, but you weren’t supposed to be back for another month. Baby, are you okay?”

"I couldn't get through to you all day and I panicked," he muttered into my neck.

- Timothee...

I pulled back to look into his eyes and to my horror saw unshed tears there.

- Tim, what are you doing? I was just at the market and my phone died. I didn't mean to scare you. Sorry.

I pressed my lips to his. I wanted to stop the kiss, but he didn't let me do it, but only deepened it. Instinctively, I ran my fingers through his hair and moaned.

- Babe…

Why didn't you answer me?

- Did not answer? You didn't call me

- I did! Look! - he began to show me his phone

- Maybe a bad connection or something. And then my phone died. Look, - I smiled and showed him my phone

“I thought you left me,” he suddenly said and looked away from me.

- What? Timothee! Why did you think so?

- Have you seen the photo?

- You and Kristen? Yes, but...

- That's not what it looks like! Honestly! She just got too close... and I immediately said no... and that if this happens again, then I will leave the film...

- Timothee!" I interrupted.

- No, its true. So, and then I couldn’t contact you and I panicked and immediately came…

- Baby, you are so silly, - I laughed and this time I hugged myself tightly, - I told you a thousand times that I trust you.

- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.

- You didn`t! Oh baby, I can't believe you came all this way just because I didn't answer you for a couple of hours, - I smiled and kissed his nose

- Not a couple of hours! Almost 24 hours!

-Timothee … what am I gonna do with you?

- Never let me go. And love me,” he said embarrassedly.

"Always," I replied, and kissed him again.

[savventeen]

hmm savv what would u do with mutual pining and woozi? :3c

daisy,,, beloved,,,,,,,,,, how dare you make me think about mutual pining w/ woozi ( /hj ) (i am already pining for him and thinking abt MUTUAL pining is going to drive me actually insane methinks g o d sdkjflskjdf)

ok so. SO. after vibrating in my seat and fantasizing abt lying down in the middle of the floor for the rest of time as i think about this concept, i have come to the following conclusion: mixtapes. and i mean in the classic "hey i made you this mixtape" sense

reader and jihoon are both producers for the same label and don't really interact that much at first. in fact, they don't actually even meet for the first time until soonyoung invites them both to his birthday party and they start talking shop, bonding over teasing soonyoung, and then ending the night with a promise to grab lunch together sometime.

fast forward a couple of months and they are officially Friends. they've managed to start a tradition of getting lunch together once a week and bitching about various work bullshit, and they've also started to hang out together in group settings after realizing they have more mutual friends as well

reader is the first one to send jihoon a song. it's a few hours after their weekly vent session, jihoon having taken up most of the time complaining about shitty higher-ups giving ridiculous deadlines and stuck-up idol wannabes trying to tell him how to do his job without having a clue about what his job actually is, and he gets a message from reader that says "i feel like this fits ur current mood" with a link to a song. [cw the song linked has a somewhat startling gun sound] he clicks on the link, curious, and then bursts out laughing after a few confused moments of listening bc that was NOT what he was expecting, at all

and that's how it starts, really. a few days later, he sends reader a song with the caption "how much u wanna bet soonyoung would choreograph something to this just bc it has the word 'tiger' in the title" / "no bet he absolutely would" / "ur no fun :P" / "sorry can't hear you i'm sending it to soonyoung as we speak"

pretty soon they're sending songs back and forth almost daily "what are ur thoughts on this" / "?? i don't speak french" / "and?" / "...ok yeah this is p good" "is this kinda close to the vibe you're trying to get for that one group you're working with?" / "not quite. but that's ok bc IM Vibin with this one" "i need u to stop whatever ur doing and listen to this with the bassist bass you can get with w/ ur setup" / "ok??" ... "holy shit" / "RIGHT?"

fast forward another couple of months, and reader shows up to jihoon's studio with a can of coke zero and a flash drive. "what's this?" / "this, my dear woozi-ssi, is going to be the solution to our creative blocks" and then reader goes on to explain their idea: they both have tracks that they're stuck on (personal, professional, or otherwise), and so they're gonna 'sisterhood of the traveling pants this shit' ('i literally have no idea what you're talking about'). aka: reader put some files they're having trouble with on this flash drive, and jihoon's gonna add any notes/ideas he has and then give it back with some of his own trouble files on it. rinse and repeat

and not only does it work ("ohmygod i've been trying to figure out that bridge transition for DAYS THANK YOU") but it also becomes Their Thing. like, they're used to collaborating with other writers/producers/etc bc it comes with the job, but something about this silly little flash drive... feels Special. [*cough*it's because they're catching Feelings*cough*]

tHIS IS GETTING SO LONG FUCK OKAY other things i would include in this fic: - one noticing the other has been working on a lot more love songs lately (or maybe a lot more Sad (read: pining) love songs) - reader has a bad day at some point and they end up losing the flash drive and they have a breakdown over it (jihoon comforts them and also helps them find it we love emotional hurt/comfort in this household) - scenes where they're individually waxing poetic about the other to different friends and the friends are like "bro. ur in love with them" "uh, no? they just have a great work ethic and a great taste in music also their lyricism is just—" "you. are. in. love." "i admire them professionally!

AND THEN THE CONCLUSION!! one of them decides to bite the metaphorical bullet and confess their Feelings. this could be either of them, but i'm gonna go with jihoon bc i can. so of course he can't just say "hey i love you" like a normal person, he has to confess through music. so he goes out and buys a new flash drive (with a really cute cover bc he knows they'd like it) and puts two folders on there. the first folder is full of instrumental files and is titled "all the times i couldn't find the words". and the second folder is titled "and all the times i could" and it's all love songs he's written inspired by/for reader

he sneaks into their studio and leaves the flash drive on your desk while you're in a meeting, and then he Waits and waits and waits some more until it's time to go home and it's been total radio silence and his heart feels like it's been crushed. so he starts to head home in the rain (bc i am a cheesy bastard and love rainy confession scenes) but after a few minutes of walking he hears shouting behind him and he turns to see you sprinting at him while screaming his name and before he can get a word out you're clutching his shoulders, soaked to the bone and asking "do you mean it? the songs, did— do you really mean it?"

and all he can do is nod because his heart still hasn't quite found its way back to his chest yet, and then he can't nod anymore because you're kissing him. you're kissing him, and he drops the umbrella he was holding and you're both kissing in the rain bc you're both obnoxious helpless romantics and "y/n-ah, i mean it— i mean it. i love you"

"i love you too, you stupid romantic bastard oh my god"

"hey, you're the one who started kissing me in the rain"

and it ends like the cheesy romcom this turned into bc i couldn't help myself and i need to lie down in a puddle of feelings now k thx

[send me a person and a trope/au and i'll tell you what kind of plot i'd write for them]

[jjaylove27]

True Love

This story is about Killian Jones. Him and Emma are together but he has a past with a girl from the Enchanted Forest that he long forgot about.

Y/N POV

I grew up in the Enchanted Forest when the curse was cast I was left in the forest. But I got separated from my husband I don't know if he went where everyone else did but I'm determined to find him again.

It was like any other day in the forest I was at a tavern drinking rum before I had to get back to the ship. Yes, I'm a pirate the sea is my second love. That is when I seen him walk in. It can't be true. I must be seeing things. I've been looking for him for so long and here he is in front of me.

HOOK POV

"Luv you must be crazy! You can't just walk into a tavern wearing the clothes from the other world. People will think you are crazy."

"Hook I'm going to look crazy regardless! I'm looking for the pirate who is Jack Sparrows daughter and ask her for her blood so we can get home."

Then she just walks in though the doors. I just grit my teeth and follow her. No matter how much I love her she just loves putting her self in danger.

As I walk in I see a girl at the bar with y/h/c and y/e/c. She looks like she's seen a ghost. She looks very familiar to me but I just can't put my hook on why.

"Excuse me we are looking for Jack Sparrows daughter. We need her help with something."

Then I see her stand up and walk towards us. "It's Caption Jack Sparrow. I'm his daughter how can I help you?"

That voice it sounds so familiar almost like I know her. Made it's Because I was on her dads ship when I was young lad. She just keeps looking at me.

"Hi my lady, My name is Hook we-"

"Yes, Killian I know your name. Do you not remember me?"

"I'm sorry lass. I assume I know you from your fathers ship."

Y/N POV

H-he doesn't remember me. My own husband the man I grew up with doesn't know me. I've have been searching for him and I finally have him in front of me and he just looks though me.

"What do you need my help with?"

"Emma here needs your blood to take us back home to Story Brook."

Emma that's her name. The women he showed up with. The women he is staring at so fondly. I found him and I already lost him.

EMMA POV

I've seen her in Henry's book. A lot of the pages was ripped out about her. Almost like someone didn't want anyone knowing about her.

"All we need is a drop of your blood to open the portal."

She finally looked at me and all I seen was sadness in her eye's.

"I'll help you. Just give me something to put my blood in."

"Well we need you to come with us."

She nodded her head and threw out her hand for us to start walking.

"So luv tell me about the time I was on the Black Pearl my memories are foggy."

I watched a light come into her eye's. Like she just got asked to see the Queen of England.

"Well you and my dad use to get into a lot of trouble. He taught you how to sail and what loving the ocean was about. But to never trust anyone but your right hand man Mr. Smee."

"Sounds like I owe your father a thank you."

We finally reached where we was going. All we needed was her blood.

Y/N POV

"Do you think I can come with you?"

They both look at me and then look at each other before nodding. I pricked my finger and the portal opened. We closed our eyes and jumped in. When I opened them up I see that I'm standing on a road.

"Well I have things to do. Hook do you mind showing her around?"

"Sure I don't mind love." Then he leaned in and kissed her. That hurt but he is with her. I just hope he remembers me. He turned around to me and flashed me his famous smile. It made me melt inside. He offered me his arm.

"So I never actually got your name Miss. Sparrow."

"It's Y/n."

He showed me Granny's Dinner and helped me get a room. He intruded me to several people.

"So luv why did you want to come with us?"

"Well I'm looking for someone and I was hoping I would find some leads here."

"Well there is a whole book of our story's that someone wrote. Maybe we can look and see if your story is in it?"

"What do you mean-"

"Well if it isn't Hook and Sparrow. Mrs. Sparrow I wondered what happened to you."

"Leave her alone Gold." Then he grabbed my arm and kept walking.

"Who was that Kill?"

"Huh? Oh that was Rumpelstiltskin he goes by Gold here."

I just nodded my head. So he remembers me I'll have to talk to him. He must know something. We walked around for a little longer before he took me back to Granny's.

"Well that ends our tour my lady. Maybe tomorrow I can take you to my friend and we can look at the book."

"Sounds like a plan. Noon?"

"Sounds like a plan."

He walked away. As I watched him I seen Emma come around the corner they talked for a minute before walking away. I walked into Granny's and sat down. Ruby walked up to me.

"You hungry or thirst?"

"No, I think I'm gonna go lay down."

I got up and went into my room. I took off my boots and pulled my necklace out from under my shirt and looked at Killian's wedding ring. Tomorrow I'm gonna talk to Gold. Then I laid down and went to sleep.

I know this doesn't follow OUAT story line. I hope you like it! Thank you for reading.

[mementoboni]

[part 3/4] DIR EN GREY WOWOW Interview & Document (2020)

"But looking at these, seeing Diru's behind-the-scenes production process, I still feel it's not easy, DIR EN GREY is really amazing." — Shinya

Notes before reading:

The whole interview is divided into 8 topics, and the translation is divided into 4 parts. This is the third part, including the 5th topic. The details of all topics and time markers are 👉 here.

I have added Chinese subtitles for this video in 2021. The whole interview was very meaningful, and I hope that with the English translation, more people can understand what they're talking about.

The five members were interviewed separately and then edited into a video, so the words spoken by each of them are not necessarily coherent.

Repost and share are welcome.🙌 I translated it all by my ears, so please feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts.☺️

— — —

05. Member Feature

[ 薫 Kaoru ]

►Memories of the Band Formation

Kaoru: Even ONE MAN LIVE, we still didn't have the budget to decorate the stage. But we still wanted it, so we went to TOKYU HANDS* and bought Styrofoam, flower decorations, and wire or something like that. It's fun that we all made  stage decorations in the house together. (*Note: "TOKYU HANDS" is a Japanese chain of home-based department stores specializing in selling DIY products.)

►Something of Recent Interest

Kaoru: I am often asked, but I can't think of anything. I don't want to do anything when I get home.  This month, in June, "Neon Genesis Evangelion" (the movie) will be released, and I really like it. Kaoru: It's almost over, of course I also want to see it earlier, but after watching it is really over. I'm a little happy that it's going to be postponed, that it won't be released this year (2020), and that I won't be able to watch it. (Staff: Emotionally, you still can't accept it.) Kaoru: Yeah, yeah, it will feel like it's not the end yet.

►Opportunity for Solo Exhibition

(*Screen caption: Kaoru held a solo exhibition”ノウテイカラノ”in 2019.) Kaoru: The reason for the exhibition is that a few years ago my hands started to become a bit uncomfortable and I couldn't hold the pick properly to play the guitar, so I had to put the pick on my fingers with tape*.  As a kind of rehabilitation, I started to draw and try to show some random things, but the story is not yet that rich. (*Note: Around 2014, Kaoru's hands began to show signs of abnormalities, which were diagnosed to be the occupational disease, caused by relaxation of the ligaments of the muscles or joints.)

►The Origin of「ノウテイカラノ」("nouteikarano”)

Kaoru: When I was a child, I often had a dream. I don't know if it was the sky or the ground, but there was a pure white place, and from far away, I could see a lot of dots, as if there was a large group of things coming closer and closer, and in an instant, they all swarmed towards me. Kaoru: Every night I would dream about it, and then I woke up with a start.�� I wake up every time I dream about it, and what happens after that? I imagine what happens after that, try to draw a picture like this, go back to my mind at that time and imagine it. (*Note: According to Kaoru’s scend book “Dokugen ni” (published in 2018) P.85, "ノウテイカラノ" means "脳底からの" (born from inside the head), just written in katakana.

►Influence on the Band

Kaoru: At first, I wanted to draw with a different feeling, and I felt that my creative power was stimulated, so I thought I could compose with a different feeling. But, rather, it seems to be more difficult to make a song. (laughs)

...

[ Shinya ]

►The Person You Admire

Shinya: I've been in a band since my first year of middle school. X was very popular in the class, and YOSHIKI-san's presence was very strong.  At that time I decided to become a drummer like him, and I've always looked up to YOSHIKI-san since then.

►Memories of the Band Formation

Shinya: We used to compose in a studio in Osaka. There was a container-like studio, and I remember we stayed there for 3 or 4 days, composing the song together.  The studio was rented, and we slept there under the blankets. Shinya: I never understood why we had to share a room*. The studio was in Osaka and we could just go home, so why did we have to spend the night there?  I guess other members might have felt the same way. (*Shinya used the word "gashuku, 合宿")

►Reason for Not Changing the Style

Shinya: There are people who have liked me for a long time. Also, I can feel the beauty by keeping my old look, and that's why (I don't change my look).

►Opportunity to Start Solo Project

(*Screen caption: Shinya established the music group "SERAPH" in 2017.) Shinya: The concept was already there many years ago, but I felt that it was a bit taboo to have other band activities, so I didn't do anything.  But around 2012 or 2013, I started to think that it was okay, so I went into it with the intention of trying it out.

►The Concept of "SERAPH"

Shinya: The theme is the various things that I see from heaven, about human beings, and that's what I'm expressing.

►Influence on the Band

Shinya: The drum part is the same as DIR EN GREY. After all, it's an expression of my own creation.  In this respect, when I think of the drums of DIR EN GREY, there may still be some influence.

►Things learned from "SERAPH"

Shinya: I have to do a lot of things by myself in SERAPH, booking all kinds of things and so on.  I'm quite happy to do it myself, or maybe I'm doing it because I like it. But looking at these, seeing Diru's behind-the-scenes production process, I still feel it's not easy, DIR EN GREY is really amazing.

...

[ Die ]

►Opportunity to Go into the Band

Die: I wasn't that interested in music itself before. I like listening to music, but I don't know anything about the bands. After entering high school, I saw the performance of senpais' copy band at the cultural festival. I was dragged there by my friends, and it was a shock to me. The first time I saw a live performance, I realized that it's the band. Die: Although I had no interest in it, I wanted to do something while watching it, and I formed a band with my friend immediately after the show was over. There was no one else (in the band). I was a drummer at first. (laughs)  But it's boring to play rhythm all the time at home.  After all, guitar is a melodic instrument, and there is an amplifier. I guess the guitar is more attractive to me.

►Memories of the Band Formation

Die: When we first debuted, we spent the whole day in the conference room of the record company, signing posters, changing signatures, and so on. Filming also started at 6 a.m., and it took about 3 hours for a person to put on makeup, it's usually over time at the end. I remember these things very well.

►Something of Recent Interest

Die: In my daily life, I naturally see and hear things like the Japanese music industry, and it feels really peaceful.

►Opportunity to Start Solo Project

(*Screen caption: Die founded the rock band "DECAYS" in 2015.) Die: As far as music is concerned, it's something I can't do at DIR EN GREY. I wanted to try and see how far I could go without the DIR EN GREY label. There is a part of me that wants to do it myself, or to challenge it.

►Things learned from "DECAYS"

Die: At first I felt like I had to make some changes, but instead, I felt like I was losing myself. In the end, I found that it is best to be myself, in the next process.

...

[ Toshiya ]

►Opportunity to Start Playing Bass

Toshiya: Originally, I just wanted to be a guitarist, but I didn't think I could play very well. At that time, I was thinking about what to do, and then I was attracted to the bass. I felt like I could see my future. Toshiya: There are many people who are called "Guitar Heroes", but few people remember "Bass Heroes". That means there is still room for me to develop, so I thought I would play bass.

►Memories of the Band Formation

Toshiya: When our band first formed, four members came to my hometown. It was winter and there was still snow on the ground. They all came from Kansai and rarely saw snow*. I was very impressed by how excited they were to see snow. (*Toshiya's hometown is Nagano. It is said that Toshiya's mother took the picture at the time and still keeps it at home in Nagano :D → TOSHIYA AT JOE YOKOMIZO CHANNEL 4th FEB TRANSLATION/NOTES 2/4)

►Favorite Artists

Toshiya: I like painting. Vincent van Gogh and Francis Bacon, I like both of them very much.  The world of painting is usually a mixture of truth and fiction.

►Opportunity to Start the Apparel Brand

(*Screen caption: Fashion brand with Toshiya as creative director - DIRT) Toshiya: I think music and fashion are inseparable and both are very attractive. Music should be free to express itself, and in the same way, fashion should be free, too. Toshiya: When it comes to expressing oneself, everyone chooses what is acceptable to most people*. I don't like that, I think we should listen to our own thoughts more. (*Toshiya used the word "migimuke migi, 右向け右")

►Influence on the Band

Toshiya: Even if I'm designing clothes, I end up having something to do with music. Although this is a completely different field, it will eventually return to music and bands.

...

[ 京 Kyo ]

►The Person You Admire

Kyo: There are a lot of them.  Now I'm not just targeting one person. When I was young, there were a lot of senpais that I wanted to become like them.  But it's been more than 20 years, so now I don't take them as a target, just be myself.

►Interested Artists

Kyo: Haven't there "Kimetsu no Yaiba (鬼滅の刃)" recently?  I haven't read it yet, it's super popular, isn't it?  Generally speaking, if the sales are so good, it is difficult to end the series, right? There will be a variety of entanglements, such as the life afterwards, there are many to consider. Kyo: I think it's great to end the series like this, to end it at this time, with a sense of strength and determination. So if there is a follow-up manga in the future, I would like to read it.

►Opportunity to Start Solo Project

(*Screen caption: Kyo founded the rock band "sukekiyo" in 2013.) Kyo: The things I want to do often keep popping up. I think it's a shame not to do it, and I don't want to regret it.

►Influence on the Band

Kyo: I don't think so, but I feel less stressed (after the solo project).  People who like DIR EN GREY say to me, "Don't bring sukekiyo to DIR EN GREY!" Sometimes people say that, and I'm not going to do that. Kyo: I was asked why (I want to form a sukekiyo), "Diru can do it, right?" It's because I can't do it (in Diru) that I want to do it!  I don't know what criteria they used to say that Diru can do it, but I didn't do what I could do (in Diru).  If you finish what you want to do one by one, you will be less stressed out.

(To be continued…)

--- --- ---

part 1. & part 2. & part4.

topics & time marks

中文翻譯 (My Blogger) part 1. & part 2. & part 3.

[rainbowolfe]

A Deep Observation of the Daycare Attendant

Because I am very, very normal about them.

Were you saddened or otherwise put off by sassy, mean Sun? Then rejoice, you're gonna like this post.

Because as funny as it is, it's a sharp turn for this character to make. Even the cookbook calls out how "nice and helpful" Sun is (according to Freddy). While we don't know when it is, I think if Sun was super impatient and a perfectionist deep down, even with years of training him to tolerate children, it would still show subtly.

TLDR: The Sun we interact with in the Arts and Crafts section isn't "Sun" at all. It's Moon.

Overall

It's interesting how much Help Wanted 2 goes out of its way not to acknowledge Moon. And it's unlikely to be an oversight on Steel Wool's end, this game was being made at the same time as the Ruin DLC. Really, it's so blatant it has to be intentional.

The Carousel levels make no mention of how to keep him at bay in the tutorial. And in the Arts and Crafts Loft tutorial, the instructions are just "Use the flashlight if it gets too scary." When on every other level, it's upfront about what threats you'll encounter and how to handle them.

Speech Pattern

Half of Moon's dialogue in every game he's been in so far has been laughter. So we know he's a giggly, goofy little guy. But one of his new lines is captioned: "The merry-go-round broke down. (snickers)"

Which, not only reads like he's the one who caused it to break down (he doesn't bother you until you touch it after all), but that little snicker dotting the end of his sentence is a verbal quirk Sun's never had before. And yet, we hear it constantly during Arts and Crafts.

Something we also get to hear is his beloved "You're gonna get us in trouble" line. I wouldn't expect the exact same delivery, but it's significantly different. Gregory going behind the security desk is a far more severe infraction than eating crafts, and yet "Sun" sounds far less flustered. Nervous, because it actually is against the rules (and he physically can't go back there if something were to happen) but not so worked up he's stumbling over his words.

Body Language

A lot of thought is put into the movement of all the animatronics, not just Sun and Moon. And they each have a distinct way of moving.

Of the two of them, Moon has always been the acrobatic one. And when he's not doing flips or swimming through the air, he's contorting himself (like that weird helicopter thing he does) or miming.

Even the little details. Sun's limbs tend to flow together in big fluid motions. Moon's movements are jerky and fast (unless he's in the air). And his body parts move more erratically. His fingers twitch. His knees, waist, and elbows all bounce at different times like a cascade. He also spins his head completely around, something Sun almost never does.

Many of Moon's animations were cut, but you can see them all here.

Now, what's the first thing 'Sun' does when you do Arts and Crafts for the first time? The mfer cartwheels in.

Designs

The in-game models we're awarded give us a good look at the differences between Sun and Moon. Most notably is their eyes. Sun has completely white eyes without pupil-holes (they seem almost glassy). Moon not only has pupils, but has one white eye and one black eye (and both glow red).

When you trigger darkness too many times, naturally you're jumpscared by Moon. But when you simply run out of time, Sun jumpscares you... but he has Moon's eyes. Suspicious? Very.

Another odd detail is that in the Artist's Loft level, Sun is there in their Eclipse form. But when the lights go off, they fully transform into Moon.

Jumpscares

Honestly, Steel Wool made it easy for me. If I had started with this, it would've been the only evidence I needed! But alas, I already wrote the above when I noticed this. In Security Breach, Moon's jumpscare is the "menacing tickle-fingers". Sun doesn't have a jumpscare. Moon will do the same jumpscare whether in the daycare or doing the top-of-the-hour shutdowns.

[The mechanism of how these two actually switch is a bit unclear, so this covers my bases if there actually are two physical Daycare Attendant bodies]

In Help Wanted, he keeps this jumpscare, even when he's ruined. 'Sun' with Moon's eyes also does this jumpscare. Their jumpscare doesn't become an actual attack until the Cinder Carousel level with Jack-O-Moon. It's very similar to the way he attacks Cassie in Ruin.

Personality

Sun only has one rule. And it's to keep the lights on. (And to stay out of restricted areas). So he's the type to do whatever will keep the kids entertained. He even encourages chaotic, hyper behavior right off the bat, suggesting they "drink Fizzy Faz until we explode". A hyper child isn't a child that's going to sit still and perfectly do crafts.

But during Arts and Crafts, there are clearly a lot of rules. Do the Paint-By-Numbers in order. Do it exactly as the guidelines say. Don't eat the crafts. Don't move. Don't shoot him with the dart gun. Don't throw things at him. Don't make mistakes. Don't come into his loft while he's malfunctioning. Be creative on your own time. The rules are endless!

So why would Moon be averse to nap time/the lights being off? Well, he actually tells us outright. "You'll... hurt your eyes." Be it an intentional feature or a bug, but when Moon is the one in control of the body, being in the dark makes them hypersensitive to light. And it hurts. As we see in Ruin, enough exposure will make them lock up.

Plus if Sun is still in there (I suspect he's not during the first Arts and Crafts), it could just be that Moon doesn't want to switch at all. Something fucky had to have happened for him to suddenly be the one active during the day. That's probably why they're attempting to train him using Arts and Crafts. It clearly didn't work out and he lost speaking rights. Plus "switching" seems to forcibly put the inactive one to sleep (aka "in a nap").

It seems like the way they're programmed, one of them gets to use the "Sun" voice and one of them gets to use the "Moon" voice, and they can't just swap back and forth.

And that's my post! Can you believe I'm not even done? Next time I'll talk about how Eclipse isn't the combination of Sun and Moon, but the combination of Moon and Jack-O-Moon.

[poupeesdecirque]

Posting by Queue, or: why I need some distance from my crafts

It has been some time since my last hobby meta blog entry, it had different reasons and one is that I need distance. Like, yes I of course enjoy crafting and sometimes I am like a little child that runs everywhere to show off things.

But it got ... less intense. And I learned I do better when I keep projects or at least details to myself to sit on them for longer. That the first euphoria is purely mine and not to be shared.

Like for my photos I have a buffer of several weeks now. Yes, I know past-me would have kind of hated that. But I learned I do better when I have a time buffer. I do take photos weekly but sometimes they don't feel special enough to get the weekly photo feature?

Friday & yesterday I went out for photos and while I like the ones from yesterday way more than the ones from friday I am not sure if the set from yesterday will get the feature or not as it's only a hand full of photos giving me that certain spark.

Other than that I am a very emotional artist, I sometimes really fuck up my art and hate it at the moment I worked on it, but then, sometimes, after a few days or weeks I can look at it and just wonder about what was my problem the day I made it.

Another thing is that I, myself, enjoy my art. The process of it. And I like to see my blog updating, sometimes I forget what post will go online and then I check the blog and think "ah yes, this was that thing!", and it reminds me why I made the blog overall, to show myself I had progress and that every tiny step counts.

Which leads to another reason why I hold back in regards of posting. Yes, I do share some snippets in my stories over on insta but not always and not all. I sit on over 300 drawings from the last two years alone nobody ever will see, I enjoyed drawing but it's nothing for the public eye. I will maybe go back and redraw some and share the redraws then, who knows?

But wait, there is actually more reasons.

The biggest or main reason is ... i sometimes go really wild on projects. In January I finished so many dolls it was insane, I worked on Cosplays and other crafts in an incredible speed, I have literally no idea where I found the time but I somehow did and doll parts arriving every week did the rest.

I keep the blog running with partially 2 month old stuff but .... to be honest I don't have doll stuff aside photos to do anymore. All I can do is wait for bodies to be shipped (or dolls even) and arrive. There has been no movement since January. Aside Iza getting the shipping notice for our Split, might take a while until its at her place and I can't really start on the Akuma until I got the body (which I at least have finally ordered this month) as colors need to be matched and mods to be made.

I am truly itchy to do something else than sewing all the time, I do enjoy cosplay but you know how much I like sewing (hint: not at all). So to remind myself of the fun I had in the past weeks I have mixed my blog to bless me with some progress I had which was maybe not sewing all the time. And well, the Cosplays have deadlines and I do get some ideas aside purely sewing while doing them, so that keeps me going for now.

Yes, I could start redoing dolls like Alastor or Erwin. But you know what? IT'S ALMOST ALL SEWING. Urgh.

Aside that real life is pretty good at eating me up and I just want to enjoy crafting. Right now drawing feels like stress relief but I hate the results and just scan the pieces and put them away to never look at them again, I have a bunch of posts queued up without any captions, a wip entry of a current project only has two photos but I lack the spoons to actually get them done. But since those posts are so far back it's fine (yes I know drafts are a thing).

In general I enjoy having my art to myself to get used to it before I put it out into the wild as I just recently got reminded I do bad with direct comparisons still and it hits some triggerpoints from the past and makes everything harder, I don't need that.

I literally have no idea if this blog makes sense even, lol. I just am tired of sewing and stopped working on my current project around lunch time and have drawn so much today and I walked way too much the whole week my friends urged me to stay the ef home and at least try to relax. But I'm restless as my body is too stressed (I know it all I'm a certified relaxation trainer so eh), so, have an over the place blog entry.

[katsukikitten]

continuation of a selfship drabble master list here

The leaves on the ground give him pause, brow furrowing as he notices you haven't posted anything for a solid two weeks now, not even a status. Almost a month since he spoke to you last.

He sighs, berates himself for doing it but he has to know that you're at least still alive. Checking your location first and he's thankful you still haven't turned it off. Looks like you're either headed back to your apartment or out. Sees that Taro is with you and closes the app.

Tells himself that's good enough, that at least he knows you're living, that you were in the hands of someone he trusted dearly. So he pockets his phone only to pull it right back out.

Is she okay?

Sky blue eyes stare down at the message, chancing a glance at you who's driving as if he could get into trouble. Slander thumbs make quick work of a response.

I reckon

makin me sing all the fuckin songs on the radio

especially TOD

Kaza feels conflicted, tongue running along his teeth as he rereads the rapid messages. Before he can reply another comes on.

Your singles've been playing a lot. not while I'm in the car but shit is obvious.

Fuck, fuck he shouldn't have even fuckin recorded them. Soft sad melodies that played in his head during the witching hour. Shouldn't have ever put your voice memos layered to sound like background barely audibly just for him to call out to you before the next verse. Text me when you get home, I love you. Something he said to you over and over again.

that vent song we made together that Muzan fuckin released anyway.

and this sad ass song I can't stomach

we ain't strangers to them right

pretty girl think that? that we're fuckin strangers?

Attached is a link to the song that he clicks quickly to listen to, lyrics solemn and sad. Just his single, just like the vent song he and taro made, still unable to capture the well of sadness and anger in his chest. Glaring down at his phone, trying to calm his breath, Akaza was the main reason why the band had to take a hiatus in the first place.

Punching band members, punching aggressive fans that asked about you, punching Muzan when he tried to offer up his niece as someone that he or Gyutaro could date. He would have broken his jaw if it wasn't for the other three band members trying to pull him off.

Like pulling a wild dog off a bone.

A wolf off a carcass.

He did break Koku's orbital bone with his elbow when he tried throwing them off. It was Gyutaro who thought quickly enough to shout "She'll be pissed if ya get jail time."

But the threat of that died the next day when he found himself smiling down at four men in a four v one that he instigated. Running his hand through his fading pink hair. Biting the inside of his already raw cheek.

He reassures his bandmate easily

your pretty girl always thinks the world of ya. tell her the truth she'll believe ya

To which the dark haired man replies quickly

fuck off you first

"Stubborn bastard." He growls to no one but himself before his phone pings, not a message but a notification.

Clicking on it way too quickly to see a selfie of you and Taro both flicking off the camera. The man is smoking, cigarette hanging from his lips, phone in his other hand screen still aglow as if he was in the middle of a reply.

Clearly at a stop light, your hair wind blown and the two of you are in your car, the one he helped you fix up and by helped he asked you to "sit and look pretty princess" while he did all of the work because he wanted to.Still does.

But he can't, not anymore. No way to explain what happened and maybe he doesn't think he deserves to even attempt to tell you a truth you won't believe anyway.

The caption reads still livin, still hate the end of summer

He pats himself down for his smokes, debates if he should vague, cupping his hand around the end of the stick before the flame flickers to life and catches. Burning as he breathes in and exhales slowly leaving a gray cloud in its wake.

Deciding against it when another selfie comes through, you with your eyes closed and peace sign up, oversized hoodie, his hoodie, making the neckline a bit lower, seeing something circular and black on a dainty chain, like a ring or band. A necklace he doesn't recognize, at least at first, eyes going to the caption.

we'll go back to strangers

Stomach dropping as the lyrics match up to the song he listens to now. Although she wasn't musically inclined she's always been drawn to it, he knew that. Knew her music reflected her moods more often than not.

Knew that when he released his single. The one that made her go radio silent to the entire group, even if she wasn't angry with them, for an entire two months before Gyutaro showed up at her door.

Another text comes in pulling him from his thoughts only to fan the flames.

she still has that fuckin ring

And then it hits him, the circular band too small for his inked digits burns against his skin under his shirt hanging from a chain. Fingers flying to it to feel the smoothness of the rose gold and the embedded onyx gem and black diamonds surrounding it. The same ring you flung back at him when everything happened so fast.

Looking at the photo you posted again and finally seeing the 'pendant' for what it really was. A black wedding band meant to match a black gemmed wedding ring.

The revelation makes him see red, makes a clotting mix of deep sorrow and anger twist and knot in his chest, losing when one starts and the other ends. Just how he sees you and him. Quick to start his bike, to abandon his half finished cigarette and skid out of his parking spot before he heads back inside to bloody his knuckles again. He was the cause of this, of your sorry.

Your pain.

Heart beating way too fast and yet slowing as he starts to become numb. Grip tight on his bike's handle and phone making it glitch. Snapping pictures, opening apps from feeling his skin, the sensors not knowing what to register and trying to pinpoint the most pressure.

Meanwhile his speedometer climbs higher and higher.

190

200

220

250

Slowly creeping higher as his bike whines from exertion. Weaving between cars that barely register as a blur as he navigates the highway this late at night.

His phone vibrates excessively before his headphones interrupt the looped song to signify he had an incoming call before picking up for him. Wind from no helmet going to to make it near impossible for him to say anything back unless he screamed.

"Slow down and delete that fuckin picture before she sees it. Right the fuck NOW!" Gravely voice rarely raised, especially when aimed at family.

But Akaza can't be fucking bothered, barely audible as he growls "Shut the fuck up." With that he hangs up and when it rings again he doesn't bother answering it, launching it into the concrete guard unable to watch it explode into a million pieces from his speed.

Part of him thinks he should let go, just finally let the ride take him like it was always supposed to.

Fitting that a violent life would lead to a violent end.

Until the ghost of you curls around his back, static before your pretty voice would ring through his ear pods because you called him on his way home from work.

"Careful Jiji, I just want you home in one piece."

Making him grip his brakes as fast as possible without flinging himself over the handlebars, stopped on the side of the shoulder as a few cars past by him.

He walks back the handful of miles to where he threw his phone, whistling lowly when he sees nothing but a star shower of glittering glass and smashed innards.

Kneeling down and determining that nothing was salvageable. Running his broad palm through his hair slowly.

God could he be anymore of a fuck up?

He was sure he couldn't.

But he'd be proved otherwise, when he turns on his new phone the next afternoon sees several missed calls from his foxy sister, from Taro and one from you at 3am.

Not a vague, not a message, a phone call. Voicemail flashing at the top of the fresh screen. Inked fingers fumbling over the glass as he goes to listen, your voice filling him with absolute dread.

How you try to force the venom into your tone, how you can't hide how you've been crying, how you're still shaking. Pouty lip wobbling from the weight he put on you by giving in to his anger.

"You better be fuckin dead."

Before the line goes as dead as he feels inside.

He really truly was a demon.