#i've lost all my 50/50s since playing

[myntrose]

my luck:

last year, pulls zhongli's rerun banner: gets diluc at 90 pity, losses 50/50 not enough primo left to wish

this year, zhongli rerun: gets jean, had 0 pity, losses 50/50, no primogems left

zhongli pls come home next year T-T

[lesenbyan]

Jingliu came home!! On pull like 78. But she came home!! Now I gotta save up to build her

[trying-harder-then-u]

Johnny's Daddy

Johnny has been my friend since forever, and while we grew apart in High school, we would always make sure to comfort each other through all the tough times. He helped me with my breakup, and I helped him when he lost his job.

Johnny was always on the smaller side; Puberty Hit never really got to him, and while he never got the muscles he wanted, he eventually became quite happy with his body and my numerous numerous offers to wing man him and help him get a girl were always turned down.

Earlier today, my phone pinged while I was at work. Johnny had messaged me:

"Hey man, could you come to my place after work?"

"Sure? What do you need?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

Me and Johnny had always been open and clear without ever really needing to talk outside of texts, so I thought this must be something big if he wanted to talk about it at his place, so after work finished up, I got in my car and drove to his apartment in the city. After a good 50 minutes of driving through the winding roads, I finally arrived.

As I opened the door, he came and hugged me. "How was the drive?" "Nothing special, just some traffic jams and that stuff," I responded. For the first few hours, we just hung out talking about life and playing games before I finally asked why he wanted me here: "Well, I wanted to tell you I was gay." he blushed as he said it, "Damn man, thanks for telling me; I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me, do you want to go to a gay bar or  something?"He shook his head at my question: "You don't understand; I've been trying to get a boyfriend for awhile now, but it never works out, and I wanted to ask you if...." "I'm sorry, man," I interjected. "I love you like a brother, but I don't feel the same way about you." "Okay, sorry, I hope we can still be friends," Both of us laughed awkwardly at the incident, but decided to hang out some more. At about 6, we were both getting hungry, so he ordered a pizza, and he got up to grab us a drink. I heard what sounded like pills rattling in the kitchen before he returned with some beers, caps removed. "Thanks, man," I said as he handed me one. Taking a sip, I thought it tasted funny, but I just shrugged it off as the pizzas had just arrived and i was starving.

As we ate and played video games, it became latter and latter, and the beers piled up, each tasting stranger, then the last. At some point, my mind started to became fuzzy. "Ugh, I don't feel good," i said. "You don't look good either. Maybe you should just sleep here for the  night."Johnny commented, Too tired to argue, I ended up on his couch and fell asleep quickly as he went back to the room. "You'll be fine; I bet you feel like a new man tomorrow morning," he called as he closed the door.

That night, as I shuddered in my sleep, my body began to change, moving around as my stature grew, stretching from 5 feet 8 to 6,2. My flab melted away as my skin tightened around new abs that began to push out one by one, and calves became strengthened along with arm muscles. My round face gained structure as a square jaw and clear skin gave my face a new, more attractive look. But it wasn't just my body changing; my dreams began to shift; thoughts that I used to have about women became directed towards Johnny; as I dreamed of dominating and using him, the apartments that we each had eventually became one, just as my place had his boyfriend cemented, and soon I was picturing him submitting to me every night. As these dreams peaked, I felt my dick pulse, lines of cum shooting out as my rock-hard cock lengthened, growing longer and longer inside my underwear from it's normal 4 inches to a monstrous 9, and my boxers turning to briefs as they were soaked in my semen. The transformation was over, and my new place in the world was confirmed.

The next morning, Johnny smirked as he walked in to be greeted by me staring at him in nothing but my briefs. "I have a job for you, boy; I need some services," I commanded, His dick jumped up, and his body shuddered as he moved towards me. All memories of my past life disappeared as he wrapped his lips around my dick; all that mattered was teaching my boyfriend his place.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Bros, Bros, and more Bros

I made a mistake! My cousin told me about this fortune teller that cast a spell on him. Apparently, it made every man he ran into act like a fatherly figure in his life. I had an awesome dad, but I've always struggled to connect with guys my own age, so I tracked the witch down and begged her for another spell. She eventually came around, but the effects aren't quite what I expected...

"Sup, dude! Wanna skip and hit the park?"

My eyes stretch wide to take in the sight of my own father, carrying a skateboard over his shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's been acting like this for weeks; not washing his hair, barely even washing himself, and constantly wearing that stupid cap backwards. He's lost any sense of his old self!

"Dad, it's Monday. You've got work," I reply, not wanting him to piss his boss off.

"Work blows!" he sneers, "I hate wearing this stupid tie, and I'd rather hang with you, bro."

I sigh as my father tosses down his skateboard and extends a palm, pulling me into a cliche bro-hug where he claps me on the back. My dad used to give out hugs all the time, but it was never as performatively masculine as this. All this stupid curse did was turn my father into an 40 year-old frat guy.

"You're going to work," I say firmly, "And I'm going to school. We can play videogames or whatever when we get back later tonight."

"Bruuhhh!" he groans, "Fine. I'll catch you later, dude. There's pizza in the fridge if you want."

The idea of leftover pizza this early in the morning makes my stomach ache. My dad used to cook an entire meal every morning, complete with fruits and veggies. Now, he'd probably settle for a bag of chips.

The man leaves the skateboard behind and grabs his suit jacket, pulling it on with an attitude. He gives me one last head nod before bounding out of the house, hair flowing behind him. I imagine it's only a matter of time before my dad's boss is fed up with his new persona. I can't imagine a bro-personality is very conducive to getting work done in a corporate office. Hopefully, he'll mature soon.

With an empty stomach, I saunter out of the kitchen and walk to campus. I'm grateful to live close to the university. Hopefully, my curse won't get in the way of my day.

"Hey, how's my favorite student doing, bro?"

My professor yells and breaks into a goofy grin at the sight of me. I close the door to his office to give us a bit of privacy. Mr. Carlton only acts like this when I stop by, so his colleagues would be shocked to see such a drastic shift in his usually stoic personality.

"I'm good, Professor Carlton," I say, "I wanted to check on my grade for this course."

"No need to be so formal, dude," he smiles, clapping me on the back, "You can call me Daniel. Want a drink? I have some bourbon."

"I'm good. I really just-"

"Relax, bro," my professor says, shoving a glass in my hand, filled to the brim, "This is good stuff. I save it for special occasions, so sit down! Kick your shoes off! I don't care!"

The department head pulls off his suit jacket and leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and stretching his arms behind his head. I'd never seen the man act so unprofessional, but ever since the curse, he's started treating me like his closest buddy.

"Professor...sorry...Daniel, I just wanted to hear about my grade."

"I got you, bro!" he laughed, "Just keep doing what you're doing. I don't care if you don't show up!"

My shoulders relax. That's what I want to hear. It's not that I don't want to attend his lectures, but the last time I did, he started acting like a jackass in front of the entire class of 50 students. His presentation went from ancient monetary systems to ratings of best celebrity nip-slips. It's a miracle he didn't get fired!

"Ok, good. I have to go," I say checking the time, "And you have class in 20 minutes."

"Shit, I know," he groans and gulps down the rest of his booze, "Another day another dollar, I guess. When can we hang out, man? Tonight? I really wanna hang out with my guy."

"Nope, sorry!" I tense up and grab my backpack, "Good luck with the lecture."

"Right on, bro," he holds a sad hand up for a high-five, swallowing the rest of the drink he poured me.

I give my tipsy professor a halfhearted clap and scamper out of the office as quickly as possible. These interactions make me cringe so hard when a grown man acts young and cool for me. It's especially awkward to see such a respected individual sink to such a low level. What would we even do if he came over?

"Dude! Long time, no see!"

In the hallway, I run into the football coach and two of the team's best players. The three of them look like they're getting back from an early morning conditioning session. They're all sweaty, panting, and happy to see me.

"Oh, hey," I muster, feeling increasingly less cool around these jocks. I hate to admit it, but guys like this wouldn't give me the time of day before I got that bro-curse.

"Hey, man! You gotta come hang out with us," the brunette grins, "The team's still changing, but you're cool to come in the locker room!"

"Yeah, bro!" the blonde quickly adds, "We'd love to have you in there!"

My heart pounds faster and faster. This is why I've never been able to connect with guys my own age. I find myself boning up every time they look in my direction. Now that these two athletes are practically begging for me to join them in the locker room, my erection is bursting out of my pants!

"We can take care of that too," the coach suddenly mentions, pointing a finger at the tent I'm trying to hide in my crotch.

"What?" I stammer with a dry mouth.

"What do you think bros are for?" the coach continues, clapping his two players on the back, "My boys would be happy to help a brother out!"

The two football jocks nod. It feels like I'm dreaming, and I don't know what to do. Before I can decide, the two athletes have approached and grabbed me by the arm. Their grips are firm, and I realize I'm being escorted into the changing room whether I like it or not!

"Who's this guy?"

My stomach drops as I enter the locker room, finding an array of footballers in different states of dress. They all glance up at me with confusion, like I'm not supposed to be there, but then their faces soften. The gypsy's magic sets in, and they don't see a stranger when they look at me. They see their bro.

"Oh, it's you, bro," the same jock says, letting down his guard. I think I recognize him as the quarterback.

"Oh yeah, dude!" the massive lineman stands up and pulls me into a sweaty hug, "Glad you're here!"

"That's right guys," the brunette at my side says, still holding me tightly in place, "Our best bud is here, and he needs some attention."

My face flushes as I suddenly remember the problem poking out between my legs. By now, the entire football team is staring at it. If anything, it's only become more rock solid.

"Let me take care of that for you, bro," the quarterback says, grabbing my crotch without any hesitation.

"Move, I'll do it," says the lineman, pushing the quarterback out of the way and getting on his knees. He opens his mouth wide and-

"Shut up, all of you!" the coach suddenly roars! The locker room falls silent: these athletes are really well trained. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. Line up!"

"Yes, coach!"

The jocks back up and form a line in front of the lockers. Even the blonde and brunette that were holding me, release and join the rest of the team on the bench. Suddenly, I'm standing with the coach, looking at an entire team of well-disciplined football players. My throbbing erection is very apparent and pointing right at the small crowd of muscular men.

"Our bro deserves to be kept satisfied, right?" the coach slams a hand on my back.

"Yes, coach!" they shout back.

"So we don't just want to get our boy off once and move on, now do we?" he punctuates his question with another slap, this time lower on my back.

"No, coach!"

"We're going to set up a system for us to get him off whenever he needs it!"

"Yes, coach!"

The broad-shouldered and balding coach gives me one more slap, clapping me on the ass this time while staring into my eyes. "I'm gonna have my boys take turns sucking you off, bro. You just tell me which one's your favorite. Sound cool?"

I manage to mumble my assent, and with one look from coach, the quarterback is on his knees crawling towards my crotch. He pulls down my pants and unleashes my aching hard-on. "I got you, bro," he says, before putting his mouth to work.

After a few minutes, the coach pulls the jock off my pole and orders the linebacker to get busy. Before long, it's the brunette's turn, then the blonde's. I cycle through all 30 of the team's exceptional players, and I've gotten off more than just a few times. It's impossible to choose a favorite.

At the end of it all, the coach pushes the last player aside and says, "My turn, bro," before opening his mouth as wide as he can.

The entire football team watches as I spend the next 15 minutes just filling their coach's eager throat. When I'm finally done, I feel completely spent. I swap numbers with each jock and am repeatedly promised that they will be available whenever I call, but it isn't enough. They want to hang out with me now. They want to go out and party. I find it too difficult to say 'no' to a group of 30 eager athletes, so I let them sweep me up and take me to the nearest bar.

Needless to say, we end up causing a bit too rowdy of a scene.

"I got a complaint about a bunch of college idiots causing a ruckus. Would that be you?"

The officer was all business when he first walked in the bar. My football bros were dancing and yelling, barely even paying attention to the policeman scowling at the wild scene in front of him. He looked pissed, and his glare only softened when it found me.

"Woah, didn't know you were here, man," the cop says, cracking a slight grin on his hardened face.

"Well, I am!" I cry, feeling the effects of all the drinks my bros had been buying for me, "You should forget about work and party with us!"

"You got it, dude! Screw this badge!" the officer yells, pulling me into a tight embrace. I guess the bro-curse even works on law-enforcement!

Just like that, I'm dancing with a policeman in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn't have any moves, but he loosens up after we get some beer down his throat. The football team loves watching the cop party right alongside them. Apparently, this guy has broken up many of their parties in the past.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

The officer gulps down his seventh beer and slams the glass on the floor. It breaks, but the shattering is largely drowned out by the music. His onlookers go wild, but I can see the intoxication on his face. Beer is plastered around his mouth and dripping down his neck to soak into his uniform. I doubt this man has ever been this drunk in uniform before.

He stumbles over and throws a muscled arm over my shoulder, "Come here, bro. Let's do some shots or something!"

"I think it might be time to call it a night, officer," I yell in his ear.

"Oh, screw that!" he whines, "And don't call me officer! It's so formal!"

"Ok, what should I call you?"

"I dunno..." he mutters, "Buck! Call me Buck. That's what my wife calls me."

I roll my eyes at the mention of his wife. Of course this guy is taken. He's a complete stud of man. I've always liked a guy in uniform.

"How'd you like to come home with me tonight, Buck?" I ask sheepishly.

He lights up, "Bro, I thought you'd never ask!"

The cop grabs my arm with a wicked grin and stomps his way towards the door, dragging me along like I'm the prize he won at a fair. The players on the football team all stare at him with envy, mad that he's stealing their new best friend away for the night. I could see how badly each one of the jocks wished they were the one having a sleepover with me tonight.

"Hop in, I'll drive," officer Buck slurs his words and gestures to the police cruiser with his free hand.

"I think I'll handle the driving, if that's alright," I say, "Just hand over the keys."

"Anything for you, bro."

"Looks like someone got lucky!"

"Oh my God. Dad you're still up?"

"Bro, you said you'd play videogames tonight and then you never showed! What was I supposed to do?" he retorts, unbothered by the late hour or the cop hanging on my arm.

"You have to go to work in 4 hours!" I scream, "And you haven't even changed out of today's work clothes! What are you thinking?"

"Chill, bro," my dad says, turning to the drunk policeman holding my hand, "Take him to the bedroom and show him a good time. I'm sure you were going to, but the dude could use some extra help relaxing tonight."

The sound of my own father encouraging the man I brought home to 'show me a good time' makes me question everything again. My dad just witnessed his son bringing home a cop that's the same age as him. He doesn't even care! I want to tell him to grow up and be the man I used to know, but Buck is already jerking on my arm.

"Let's go, bro," he mumbles lowly, using his strong arms to drag me into the bedroom.

"Enjoy your new cop friend, bro!" my father calls and I hear the sounds of his videogames start back up.

I barely have time to worry about any of it. Has this curse gone too far? Will my dad make it to work tomorrow? Does Buck have a wife I need to worry about!?

It all goes away when I'm thrown on the bed. The intoxicated officer flips the lights down low, and stumbles in front of me. He may be drunk, but he is certainly not a disappointment. The cop stares down at me as he rips his state-issued hat off and unbuttons his dark uniform shirt, all the while moving his hips to the beat of gunfire from dad's videogame in the living room.

With his hairy chest exposed, he crawls on top of me and whispers in my ear, "Where do you want me to start? Us bros gotta look out for each other, don't we?"

[allysunny]

(You're) My Antidote Pt. 2 | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵐᶦᵍᵘᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᴷ⁵ⱽᵉʳˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷᶦᵗᵗᵉʳ

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: It has been a few weeks ever since Miguel saw you glitch due to the antidote he'd given you. He's far too afraid to face you, and hasn't seen you in a while. Peter B. Parker talks some sense into his head, reminding him of what's truly important.

Words: 2.6k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, exhausted-Miguel, but also very soft-Miguel, Peter B. being a great father and having actually good advice, pain and screaming, syringes, blood, untranslated Spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong!). Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! So, I've finally gotten around to write Part 2 of this fic (I had nearly forgotten about it, so I'm very, very sorry for the delay), but here it is! I hope you all enjoy it, and I hope it was worth the wait!

“Miguel?”

The voice that called out to him was gentle, soft. The one voice he could listen to for hours and hours without ever getting tired.

Yours.

“Miggy… Wake up, my love…” He could feel your soft, deft fingers brushing his brown locks away from his face. You liked to get a good view of him at all times. You played with his hair for a while, and he hummed in satisfaction. He’d stay like this forever if he could, lost in your embrace and your touch, time suspended just for the two of you.

“Miggy, wake up… C’mon, we have things to do…”

No, all he had to do was stay in bed with you, while you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and making him forget about all his problems.

And then you tugged on his hair harder.

“Miguel?”

No Miggy? And why were you tugging on his hair so harshly? What was happening?

Ouch – that’d been a particularly hard tug. What the shock were you up to? It was far too early for you to be playing these sorts of games with him.

“Miguel? Miguel!”

Miguel’s eyes flashed open, and he blinked away the sleep.

Before him, was a red-haired baby, staring curiously at him, and back at her hand. Peter B. Parker quickly scooped her in his arms, talking to her in a soothing voice.

“C’mon Mayday, you’ve played with his hair enough. Let’s not hurt dad’s boss, alright? Give him a break.”

“¿Que coños estás haciendo aqui?” Miguel grumbled, running a hand through his now messy hair. It was bad enough he was asleep and not actually next to you but having mistaken Peter B.’s voice for yours annoyed him to no end.

“Jessica asked me to check up on you. According to her, you weren’t even supposed to be here.” Peter replied as his child climbed all over him and pointed her tiny web-shooters at the wall. “

“Yeah, well, I’m working. Not sure if you’re familiar with the concept,” he grumbled again, facing the monitors in front of him. Files and files and files on you, your health, your life, your family tree, his family tree, his DNA, just anything he could get his hands on. He’d fallen asleep on top of papers, each with a different combination of chemicals and elements, all of them experiments on a new antidote for you.

Failed experiments.

“I am familiar with the concept of work, Miguel, but it’d never occur to me to work myself to exhaustion while my wife suffered by herself at home.”

This seemed to get Miguel’s attention. Every single Spider-Person in the Society had warned Peter not to bother Miguel, and most importantly, to keep you off his mouth. Everyone knew what was happening to you at this point.

Pregnant with Miguel’s child, who was slowly killing you from the inside with 50% of his Spider DNA.

And everyone also knew that Miguel had been spending unhealthy amounts of time inside his office instead of at home, by your side. They were, of course, all far too scared to say something. He didn’t seem to budge, not to subtle pleas, not to direct asking. He was hellbent on finding a cure.

Miguel’s nostrils flared and he huffed, raising a finger, and pointing right at Peter’s face.

“This is none of your business, Parker.” He said through gritted teeth, anger evident in his eyes.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t care. You might not care about anyone’s lives other than hers, but I am a husband too. And I would ditch everything – and I mean everything – to be with her at a time like this. Especially if I knew… If I knew she might…”

Miguel slammed his hands down on his desk, the sound echoing through his office.

“Do not finish that sentence. Don’t you dare.” Although he was furious, his voice was nothing but a whisper, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

“Alright, I won’t. And then what, Miguel? Forget this. Go home to [Y/N]. She needs you right now.” Mayday crawled on her father’s arms once again, and he rocked her gently. “Think about how she must be feeling. Terrified, all by herself, without her husband by her side.”

Miguel’s shoulders hunched. He was usually a tower of a man. But right now? He felt as small as possible.

“I can’t go back home,” he whispered, shoulders shaking. “I can’t go back home without an antidote. How am I supposed to face her? How am I supposed to look her in the eyes and tell her, her supposed genius of a husband can’t find a cure to the child that’s killing her?” When Miguel turned to face Peter, he was crying, and his eyes were drowning in sorrow. “Her screams, Peter… No man should hear such screams come from his wife… And I’m failing her… I don’t know what to do…”

Peter was stumped.

He’d never seen the cold, apathetic, always professional leader of the Spider Society behave like this. Sure, he seemed to be heartless and a jerk, but he knew that when it came to you, Miguel was willing to hold the weight of the world in his shoulders.

And it seemed like right now, he was.

Peter placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Go home, Miguel. Go to her. You really think you’ll ever disappoint her? She knows how hard you’ve been working for her. Just… Go to her, alright? Before you can’t and you blame yourself for the rest of your life.”

Peter’s words did something to Miguel, and he felt his heart ache. Slowly he nodded.

“Thank you.” Nothing else needed to be said. Miguel wasn’t one for words, but Peter recognised the weight behind the ones he had just uttered.

Within seconds, a portal had been opened, and Mayday was happily waving at the man that walked through it.

The house was quiet. Almost too quiet, but he quickly picked up on the sound of the TV coming from your shared bedroom. He took off his shoes and made his way to the source of the noise.

If Miguel were speaking the truth, he’d say he was terrified. He had spent the past two weeks working non-stop to find a cure and had only checked on you three times.

He was dealing with a bunch of different emotions, all gut-wrenching in nature and far too difficult to understand. He didn’t want to see you like this, feeble, weak, laying down in bed as the baby growing inside of you sucked what little was left of your life. He wanted to remember you vibrant and full of life, full of colour and smiles.

He didn’t want you to see him like this either. Tired, exhausted, dishevelled. Dark bags under his eyes, oily hair that had seen better days. He’d been working non-stop for you.

He didn’t want to come home only to tell you he couldn’t find an antidote yet, that you’d have to suffer more. Couldn’t deal with the failure.

But (as much as he hated to admit it), Peter was right.

Although he wasn’t ready to accept defeat, he didn’t want to take the time he had with you for granted. Shock, he’d been doing far too much of that.

He approached your bedroom and his gaze settled on you, neatly tucked in your bed, hands rubbing soothing circles on your belly.

You looked pale. Fragile, He was afraid to even speak, should the quietest whisper tear you apart.

And still, you turned your head to face him, and the whole world lit up within your smile.

“MIggy!” You exclaimed and tried your best to sit up even straighter. You opened your arms for him, and, just like a moth to a flame, he was instantly drawn to you. He kneeled by your side and laid his head near your hands. Your fingers reached into his hair and massaged his scalp, just like you knew he liked.

“Lo siento…” he sobbed into the mattress, afraid to meet your eyes. “Lo siento tanto, cariño…”

“Shhhh…” you tutted, hands reaching to his jaw, so you could cup it and force him to look up. When he tries to look away, you grip his chin with whatever strength you have left, and he finally meets your eyes. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“No, my love, I’m so sorry, I’ve been so focused – ”

“I know,” there were tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Miguel was always so strong for you. It was your turn to be the strong one. How ironic. “But you’re here. You’re with me. With him.”

“Him?” Miguel asked, looking at your belly.

“I just feel it.” You offered him a smile, and he tried his hardest to reciprocate, ignoring the ache in his chest. Ever since he’d seen you glitch, Miguel had been afraid to show even the smallest of smiles. He was afraid the smallest of joy he felt around you would be taken away just as quickly.

After the first time, he’d refused to give you any more of that godforsaken antidote. Still, there’d been aftershocks. The following days, he’d seen you glitch once or twice, but it eventually faded away with time. On one hand, he was glad.

On the other, it only made him worry more. The glitching was over.

But you were still in pain.

“Mind if I sit next to you?” he asked, taking your hand in his and kissing it.

“Only if you shower first. You reek of Spider Society, Miggy, and the sheets are clean.”

He smiled once again and did as you asked, hopping in the shower, and washing the exhaustion and grime of the day off him. When he was ready, he put on a pair of sweatpants and walked into the bedroom, relishing in the way your breath hitched as you looked at his bare torso.

“Necessitas algo, mi amor?” he asked, raising an eyebrow comically. You looked away, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. You’d been married for years, and he still had this effect on you.

“Yeah, for you to get under the covers with me right now. But put a shirt on - you’re distracting me from my show!” Miguel chuckled, and he was surprised at how long it’d been since he’d last heard it.

“What’re you watching?” he asked, lifting the covers so he could sit next to you. He did so gently, afraid to disturb your peace – and the baby inside of you that thank heavens was giving you some rest.

“Pasiones Entrelazadas,” you replied, leaning into him. His touch had you melting, and you pointed at the television in front of you. “Isabella was getting married to Luis, but his evil twin Diego kidnapped him and took his place, and now Isabella thinks Diego is Luis.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, and Marisol, their mom, well, she’s totally on Diego’s side, because if it weren’t for Luis, Diego would be the heir to her ex-husband’s money.”

“And why doesn’t she like Luis? Isn’t he her son as well?” Miguel shook his head, trying to keep up with the plot of another of your wacky shows.

“Well, Luis is actually the son of another man.”

“¿Qué?!”

“So, Marisol actually slept with two men when she was younger. She was married to Xavier, this big CEO guy, but she’s a little slut so she was fooling around with Antonio on the side. Xavier found out and divorced her. She found out she was pregnant shortly after. Luis is Antonio’s son, but Diego is Xavier’s. And if it weren’t for Luis, Diego would be entitled to his father’s fortune.”

Miguel was too stunned to speak.

“[Y/N], mi amor, that makes no sense.”

“Shhhh – Isabella is about to sleep with Diego!” You shushed him again, gesturing with your hands to keep him quiet.

“How can they be twins and still – “

“Shhhhhhhh!”

Miguel sighed.

“Fine, fine. Let’s watch.”

And you did.

For about ten minutes, before you fell asleep on his shoulder – not a rare thing to happen.

With all the care in the world, Miguel eased you down, fetching your pillow and propping it against your belly in the way he knew provided most comfort. He leaned over your body and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Perhaps all would be right. Perhaps you could endure this together, as long as you had each other. Perhaps, all would be okay.

These were Miguel’s thoughts as he drifted to sleep.

And then they were promptly interrupted by a loud, shrill scream, and the body next to him contorting in pain.

“Honey? Honey, I’m here!” He yelled, turning on the lights and sitting up to get a good look at you. You were sitting up as well, hands instinctively wrapped around your stomach. It’d become your priority after you got pregnant – the baby came first. Even if it was the very thing that was killing you.

Miguel could see you convulsing, limbs twitching and twitching, and you kept on screaming. He quickly sprinted towards his home office, opened a drawer on his desk and removed the (original) antidote and its gun, returning to your bedroom in the blink of an eye.

He basically threw himself on his knees next to you and grabbed your arm.

Once you realised what he was about to you, you tried prying your arm from him, crying loudly.

“No!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “P-Please! Don’t – Miggy, don –” your words were interrupted as another scream was ripped out of you. You fell flat on the bed as your body twitched, and Miguel had to try his best to keep himself under control. The woman he loved the most was suffering. She was convulsing and screaming some of the most blood-curdling, truly horrifying screams he’d ever heard. And yet, she was begging him not to use the antidote on her.

“My love, I’m so sorry… I have to…” he said, grabbing hold of your arm once again.

“No!” You sobbed, thrashing around the bed, silk sheets flying in every direction. “You’ll hurt him! God – no, please! Miggy, it hurts! Miggy, no –“ Another scream.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Miguel had two choices. He could stand by and watch as whatever was inside of you killed you. He could simply wait it out and watch as unimaginable pain consumed your every limb. He could wait and see what happens.

He could wait. And it’d be too late.

Shock it.

He did not need to think it twice. Miguel grabbed your arm and injected the antidote in your veins.

You were still in a matter of seconds, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling with tears in your eyes.

“Miggy?” you whispered; voice nearly broken.

Miguel looked at you and slowly brushed the hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“I’m here, mi amor. I’m here,” he repeated these words over and over again, reassuring you with his voice.

“Miggy… I think…” your eyes teared up once more. “Miggy I… I peed myself…” You closed your eyes and cried silently, looking away from him, which made Miguel’s heart break. You’d gone through thick and thin together, and peeing yourself was going to make him think less of you?

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Miguel got up and slowly peeled the bedsheets from you to reveal your exposed legs.

That’s when all the air was sucked out of his lungs.

You hadn’t peed your pants. Not at all.

That was blood.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you've all liked it, hehehe. I'm sorry if the show seemed real shitty - I used to watch telenovelas with my nana when I was younger, and I swear their plots were all like this. We'd then sit on her porch and discuss whatever wacky plot was going on this time. It was fun.

Anyways, I hope you all have an amazing day ahead!

Taglist

@tarjapearce , @estella-satn , @meganswife , @cold-blooded-girls , @marcswife21 , @edgycatx

I'm not very sure how to tag people, so in case this doesn't work, I'm sorry!!!

[cherrychilli]

18+

Steve Harrington x AFAB reader, lots of shameless teasing by reader, slight exhibitionism, allusions to sex, teeniest tiniest smidge of perv! Steve

A/N: Inspired by the only scene of Cool Hand Luke I've seen. And that one short scene from Elvira: Mistress of the Dark. Just wanted to write something fun and a lil bit silly.

"C'mon sugar, chop chop - 's not gonna clean itself", he sing songs from the driver's seat of the BMW where he's been toying with the radio, scratchy static fading into a chorus of Scorpions' No one like you when he tunes into a station that suits his liking.

On a regular day a quip like that would have had you pinching one of his triceps, twisting the skin until he crumbled to his knees with a litany of pleas and apologies tumbling past his lips. But today was different because you both knew he was exempted from any retaliation. And boy, was he enjoying it.

Steve had been like this all morning, painfully smug, grin stretched Cheshire cat wide ever since you'd come over to make good on the card game you'd lost the night before.

It began as a casual game of poker over a few beers to make the lazy evening more interesting. You never played for much. The white chips were always worth 25 cents, the reds 50 cents and the greens were a dollar but he had you perking up when he suggested sweetening the pot that night.

"Oh yeah? what do you have in mind?", you'd asked this with subdued interest, munching down another mouthful of sea salt and vinegar chips, half expecting him to float the idea of strip poker as influenced by your viewing of The Wanderers earlier that night.

It wasn't unlike Steve to suggest something like that after he's had a few drinks and it wasn't unlike you to happily go along with whatever he's proposed after you've had a few drinks of your own. The two of you made quite a pair that way.

The last time it was skinny dipping down at Lovers Lake. A shared bottle of Gin bore the blame for the idea but by some miracle of intervention (or was it interruption?) Jim Hopper happened to be cruising by to put a stop to it before things could go any further. Nothing like the fuzz rolling up on you in your underwear to dampen the mood.

But last evening didn't take that kind of a turn and you didn't have to sit there cursing yourself for not having the foresight to wear sexier underwear for very long.

This time you laid blame on the beers and that one swig of sickeningly saccharine Pineapple Schnapps left over from a party the week before for impacting your judgement, agreeing to raise the stakes to include the winner getting to delegate their weekend chores to the loser.

Steve went all in, chips tossed into the middle of his mother's new and perfectly lacquered walnut table, too buzzed and wound up in the competitive tension in the room to worry about accidentally scuffing it.

You considered your cards for a few short seconds, poker face perfectly unreadable. A full house, Queens over Jacks sat burning hot in your hands, making you call, pushing your chips over into the pile with more care than Steve had shown his own.

For a moment, you thought you had it and he let you think as much, his pink lips drooping into a frown with his head bowed, hand carding through his hair to mimic defeat when you slid your cards over.

But the thrill of not having to spend half the day mowing your lawn and weeding the garden was extinguished after three glorious seconds. He placed his cards down quietly though when you read them, the impact felt more like a gavel coming down, sentencing you to a day of doing his bidding.

Four of a kind. Kings.

Shit.

The Schnapps and the beer picked that moment to start sparring in your belly, adding to the bitter flavor of defeat washing over your tongue like an oil spill.

And then came that smirk which hasn't left his lips since. "I'll see you in my driveway tomorrow bright and early, sunshine", he winked at you in that way that had you torn between wanting to flip his mother's stupid table and climbing over it to kiss her stupid smarmy son.

And now here you were, greeted by the same insufferable smirk as you trudged up to his driveway on a Saturday morning to wash his car, hangover thankfully averted and with a fresh outlook on the situation since sobering up. He doesn't know it yet but you're not as sore about the loss as you seem.

Strangely, you had Steve's porno collection to thank for that.

You figured him to be kind of guy who preferred a dirty VHS over the classic skin mag especially now that he had an employee discount to abuse but a few months ago you'd found out that you'd guessed wrong.

You hadn't let on about the time you went looking to borrow a pair of spare socks one nippy evening from one of his drawers and found a busty, definitely not a licensed nurse despite the uniform, smoldering back at you instead.

Unearthing the magazine from beneath the pile of tube socks it'd been partially shoved under, you quietly acquainted yourself with the ladies of Genesis Magazine's Girls/Girls Fall 1987 issue. Recalling one page that had been dog eared, you learned the nurse had friends who liked to get naked and soaked when it came time to hose down their cherry red Chevy Camaro.

Suddenly, having you out in the sweltering heat, working up a sweat and scrubbing down his beamer while he watched didn't seem like innocent happenstance anymore. In fact the whole thing made you feel a little inspired.

So you thought to yourself, why not have a little fun?

Granted, you weren't planning on losing your top and straddling the hood like the redhead on page seven. Not in Steve's white picket fence neighborhood of all places, but you did still have something less than savory in mind.

He didn't even suspect anything when you asked to go change into something more comfortable to hose down his precious car, your jeans already feeling more than a little uncomfortable since you'd left your house in this heat.

Another perfectly cloudless azure sky hung over the neighborhood. Too sunny and muggy and at that hour of the morning where everyone else was still inside. Some slept in because it was Saturday while others slept off their Friday night. Those who were awake were already in their pools or in the kitchen, cracking ice cubes out of trays into big, dewy glasses of lemonade, intermittently sipping and holding the chilly glass up to soothe their sweaty temples.

If the heat bothered Steve he didn't show it, one hand resting on the steering wheel, fingers tapping along to the radio awaiting your return. He'd been looking forward to this all night since his winning hand and nothing could sour his anticipation now.

But he couldn't have anticipated what he saw when he catches sight of you through the rear view mirror, his fingers fumbling, losing his composure quicker than if he'd slipped on ice.

You strolled out like something ripped out of one of his wet dreams, shoes swapped for flip flops, snug denim cut offs replacing your jeans, white tee instead of the teal blue you'd shown up in and hips swaying.

His mouth was agape as you walked up to him. "What are you up to?", he spoke in a voice thick with suspicion, stare heavy and darting all over you like there was too much or you on display and not nearly enough at the same time.

"I'm washing your car like you we agreed. Changed your mind?", you challenged him with a hand on your hip, eyes narrowed into a look as sharp as a knife's edge, daring him to question you again.

"No..."

"Alright then", you eased into a smile, more roguish than your usual chaste, bumping your hip against the driver's side door which up until now had been ajar, closing Steve inside. He lets you do this, something about the new clothes coupled with your 'don't fuck with me' vibe making him feel strangely obedient.

Everything you needed was already left out for you. A bucket, a half full bottle of car wash soap, a sponge and the hose nearby.

You start with the hose first, making sure to bend over to pick it up rather than crouch beside it as you turned it on, legs straight, back arched nice and pretty, ass popped out. You didn't spend that extra fifteen minutes stretching at home for nothing!

It's vastly different from all the other times he's stared at your ass. Used to doing it in sneaky glances in the past, Steve can hardly believe the obvious way you flaunt yourself for him now, afraid if you keep it up he might fog up the windshield all on his own.

Running water spouts out the hose and you're not the least bit careful with how you aim the stream into the bucket to fill it up, splashing your thighs and forearms, the sun making your wet skin glow glossy under its rays.

Number 8 on Billboard's top ten singles of the month starts to play on the radio but it goes unheard by Steve over the sound of his own heartbeat thumping in his ears, watching you wrap your fingers around the thick, cylindrical bottle and squeezing it to squirt soap into the bucket.

It's all so calculated and deliberately dirty, even though you try to play it off all innocent. You even plaster on a faux look of surprise when you stand too close to the BMW to rinse it, water splashing back onto your clothes, denim turning dark, white tee turning transparent...

Steve nearly chokes on the saliva pooling in his mouth when he notices that you're not wearing a bra. No swimsuit or even a bikini on underneath. He tears his eyes away long enough to quickly survey the neighborhood and when he doesn't find any of his neighbors in sight he fixes them back on you.

He should stop you, right?

He shouldn't just sit there and watch, right?

It wouldn't be correct to let you parade yourself in front of him like this...

Right?

Turning off the hose, you grasp the sponge and dunk it into the soapy water, pulling it out all sopping and heavy to wring it out over the bucket, purposely holding it close to your chest so the excess water can cascade down your front.

Nothing could have stolen his attention away from the way your tits jiggle in your soaking, skin tight tee as you lean over and put some elbow grease into running the sponge over the hood of his car in soapy circles. Peeking up through your lashes you catch the way his cheeks blend from a subtle mauve to a pretty fuchsia from behind the windshield, deciding you'd like to get a closer look.

He thinks he might flatline when you saunter closer and lean over the side of the hood. Reaching as far as you can to sponge the windshield, you're certain the poor boy's probably straining against his zipper by now as your wet tits press up against the glass.

It's so obvious and indecent. And fun. Getting to dangle yourself in front of Steve like this so unabashedly out here in the open, sticking a pin in that irritating, albeit harmless, cocksure attitude he'd shown you at the start, watching it deflate with a wicked smile.

It was the sweetest torture, watching your body clad in soaked clothes, skin glistening, the contours of your breasts and nipples so evident now that you might as well be topless.

"Can't fucking take this anymore", you hear him mutter when he reaches his limit and exits the car, hand finding your waist to spin you around. He uses the other to snatch the soapy sponge out of your fingers and toss it out of sight, letting it land with a wet plop on the driveway.

"I'm taking you inside", he groans when you lean into him, wet tits pressing against his chest, turning the front of his blue polo a dark navy, thigh grazing his bulge.

"Why?" you ask all coy, not ready to retire the innocent act without batting your lashes at him first, your lips only a breath apart from his.

"Because I don't think they'd let me live here anymore if they came outside and found me bending you over the hood, darling", he replies, a second before his lips come down on yours.

[tash-sho-sho]

Now thinking about it, if it were really Self-Aware AU HSR... I did that anual-event thing, and I had done like... 4,678 or so of battles since I started playing, and like 2,804 or so had Blade in it. Like... imagine an Au where you are so down-bad for them that you use them even against enemies with a high resistance with their element.

Let me tell ya, Cocolia is REALLY resistant agains wind, and I love Blade so much that I still use him... even if I see like 20k with crits and all 🤧🤧

Imagine a Blade (or any character) that since the day he came home, he barely leaves the team.

That you tried to give them the best of the best, and is the only character you completely maxed all their talents.

Anyway, I see this and I feel proud as a Blade enjoyer that WILL make him E6 someday, but as a SAHSR AU... unless they really like you... I'm not sure how happy they would be.... although Blade sees himself as a blade, so he wouldn't mind? At least him.

How would your favorite character feel to be shown so much love?

Blade has was my first limited-5 star. It was supposed to be Jing Yuan, but I lose the 50/50 with Bailu, and I decided that I would save the rest when I saw Blade. I'm soo weak against these characters and I wouldn't risk not having him and his lightcone.

Now imagine how would the rest that didn't came "home" would feel after seeing how much love you give your love one. They are more powerful, and loved.

If you are someone like me, who does not spend in many characters, imagine the jealous stares of the rest that were not chosen. (I've been playing for like 11 months now, and I only have 34 characters, my wants are very specific and I do not tend to fall into temptation!)

I would go into more details but I have nothing going on in my brain, if someone had an idea... you are free to share it, or do a post about it.

Just me showing off my love for Blade(+)

I HAVE PROOF of MY DEVOTION

Hehe... Blade☆♡♡~

Blade set don't like me, I've been farming for months and no luck, I think it's time to give up... but pride is strong and faith is the last thing is lost! Although, I do need to farm for other characters, because no dps is as strong as a dps with a harmony character by their side!

BTW, the abundance path with Blade goes REALLY well, and that 3-star Blessing Path of the Abundance: Becoming One Being goes REALLY well with him, he can become a lil-healer himself! Such a good boy, healing himself and his teammates~♡

[mirai-e-jump]

TV Guide Dan Vol.50, January 2024 Issue ft. Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Cast Members Sakai Taisei x Masato Yano Interview (translations below)

Publication: January 26, 2024

"Please introduce the character the other is playing in Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger."

Sakai: Yano-san plays Racules Husty, the big brother of Gira Husty, who I play. At first, we were led to believe that he was a bad guy who hurt his citizens, but unknown to Gira, he was carrying a huge burden on his shoulders, and was deliberately behaving in a way that made him look like that. Gira may have lost his childhood memories, but I think he respected Racules in those days, and even now is of great importance to Gira.

Yano: Gira is the younger brother of Racules, but at the same time, he's a mysterious being. Somehow, he can communicate with the Shugods…For the rest of the story, it felt like he was moving forward with innocence, but gradually, he gained leadership, moved the hearts of those around him, and became the driving force for the previously broken up Royal Sentai to become one. Furthermore, he's also been gaining more and more dignity as the new king, and now he and Racules have resolved their differences and are fighting together.

"Outside of your roles as brothers, what's the relationship between you two like?"

Yano: (with a solemn expression) We normally don't get along very well.

Sakai: (with a straight face) We fight alot.

Sakai & Yano: (laughs).

Yano: No, we're just joking. That's not the case at all.

Sakai: Yano-san takes very good care of me. He cares about me, asking, "Are you eating properly?," and also gives me advice on acting.

Yano: I'm not offering anything major. I just say, "Here's what I'm doing."

Sakai: For example, in running scenes, Yano-san breathes loudly with, "Haa, haa" to make the sound easier to pick up. Since Gira has many running scenes, I try to incorporate this in my own way.

Yano: I believe that each actor has their own way of creating emotion, so I often talk about the technical aspects. For example, it's better not to blink during important scenes, as it could distract the viewers. If there's no dialogue in a scene where you're close to a character's face, I'd suggest that you express your feelings by clenching your teeth or swallowing saliva.

Sakai: He teaches me these things in a way that's easy to understand. Furthermore, Yano-san has so many variations to his performance! He's always been a great help.

"Speaking of, what do you usually call each other?"

Sakai: I call him "Aniki."

Yano:…You've never called me that once though.

Sakai: Ahaha! Just now, I got scared~.

Yano: I immediately started thinking about the best way to respond to your joke.

Sakai: Actually, it's "Yano-san."

Yano: For me, it's "Sakai". Sometimes I call him "Taisei." Like when we go out to eat.

Sakai: It makes me happy to be called Taisei by Yano-san. From now on, I want you to call me Taisei!

Yano: You prefer Taisei?

Sakai: Yeah, but Sakai is fine too. I've been called that since I worked together with Yano-san in the drama "Shinyu wa Akujo."

Yano: Everyone called him Taisei, but I intentionally chose Sakai.

Sakai: Eh? Was it to make me feel special?! I'm so happy~!

Yano: Well…that's right! (laughs). What does Ikeda Masashi call you by?

Sakai: You mean by everyone?

Yano: Why'd you respond like that? (laughs). Sakai is like this, and sometimes I can't get through to him. The other day he asked, "What did you eat for dinner?" and when I answered, about 3 minutes later, he asked me the same question again.

Sakai: I wanted him to respond with, "How many times have you asked that?!" (*he wanted to do a bit with Yano)

Yano: Absolutely not. I could tell by your face. Sakai has a different kind of expression when he's like that.

Sakai: Eh? So you can understand such subtle changes! Yano-san is the mood maker on set. When he's on standby in front of the cameras for a monologue scene, he makes strange faces right up until the actual performance (laughs).

Yano: Hey, hey, that makes it seem like I don't take my job seriously! Well, it is true that I make strange faces (laughs).

"We've heard from your co stars that Yano-kun is lonely, and that he posts the most in the King-Ohger cast's group LINE…"

Yano: It's a misunderstanding. There's a reason for that. It's a common occurrence among actors, but even if you create a group LINE with your co stars, after filming begins or after some time passes, no one says anything. I don't like it, so I post frequently, but no one ever responds…

Sakai: I often have trouble speaking up because I'm too considerate of my seniors.

Yano: Sakai doesn't really say anything. Rather, he doesn't return private LINE messages.

Sakai: That's not true. I reply as soon as I see them!

Yano: You didn't reply the other day.

Sakai: I might've been working.

Yano: Let's just leave it at that (laughs).

"Since you play brothers in this work, we'd like to ask what kind of household chores you'd share if the two of you were to live together."

Sakai: Leave the toilet and bathtub cleaning to me!

Yano: Are you good at it?

Sakai: I'm the type of person who makes things beautiful when my "switch" is turned on. However, folding clothes and vacuuming…I don't feel like doing that.

Yano: Well then, guess I'll do it.

Sakai: Please also take care of the cooking!

Yano: How strange! (laughs). Because, Sakai, you have a rice cooker at your house, and yet you eat precooked rice packs, right?

Sakai: Cooking rice is a pain…

Yano: I really don't understand that feeling.

Sakai: Everything depends on my mood (laughs). If I feel like cooking rice, I'll cook it.

Yano: So, on days when Sakai feels like it and cooks rice for me, I'll have to say "Thank you~!" out of consideration. How annoying~ (laughs).

"(laughs). In the future, if you were to work together again as actors, what kind of production would you like to work on?"

Sakai: I'd like to play a yakuza role.

Yano: I see. Your role would be something like, "Even though his face is cute, his face is calm when he kills," does that sound good?

Sakai: That's good!

Yano: Well then, I'll play the role of the detective who hunts him down. There was a drama like that, right? It was…"Informa," featuring Morita Go-san and Kiritani Kenta-san!

Sakai: Ah!

Yano: Sakai would be in Kiritani-san's position in that drama. Or, I'll be in Kiritani-san's position and Sakai will be in Yokohama Ryusei-san's position.

Sakai: That's really good!

Yano: Personally, I'm looking forward to it. What kind of work will Sakai first appear in after he graduates from King-Ohger? I think it's really important to make that first step. What kind of production do you want to be in?

Sakai: I have almost no experience in acting, so I'd like to play any kind of role.

Yano: Then, if you had to choose between comedy, romance, or serious, which one would you prefer?

Sakai: Are they genres I can do? In that case, I'll do it.

Yano: No, don't just say "I'll do it." I just gave you choices.

Sakai: I see, my bad (laughs). If I had to pick, I'd like to do a serious one. Also, comedy.

Yano: You chose two (laughs). And they're completely opposite genres.

Sakai: I'm greedy (laughs).

[respectthepetty]

I don’t think Jin had to do anything worse than the other boys. Just turning his back on Non or not saving him would be enough of a betrayal since he seems to be the only one who cares about Non.

Anons, I'm gonna answer both your asks with one post because they are connected since, to me, Jin is the main character and White is the final gay, but first, remember this:

I'm watching the same show as y'all, so my Wild Ass Theories are based on vibes and vibes alone, but even though I don't believe in the supernatural aspect of it at all, the boys within the show do, which leads me to constantly question if the boys were willing to sacrifice one boy for all their dreams to come true when it seemed like all hope was lost for their futures?

In the past, the boys went out to shoot the film in episode six with Tee playing the killer, and Non being a victim.

I think there are two killers (Phi and Tan) in the present because there were two killers in the past, Non and Tee.

Yet, in episode six, we only saw Tee as the killer before everything blew up and the boys were called into the police station, but Por was determined to continue filming.

They may have filmed a lot more than what we saw, and we'll get even more flashbacks of that, but I think they hadn't filmed anything else, and what footage we know exists is filmed AFTER this entire police incident.

These boys were already vicious to Non before that, so am I supposed to believe they went back out to that forest with Non and the best intentions of finishing the film?

NO!

Episode two, 12:50-15:00. These boy did something even bigger to Non, and Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Was. Involved! Up until this point, we haven't seen Fluke or Jin actively do anything to Non, but at that table, every boy acknowledges they, collectively, did one really bad thing to him three years ago.

Jin cared the most about Non and he keeps insisting that Non isn't dead, just missing, while the others are convinced Non is dead, so if they had killed him, they would know he is dead, but if they deserted him out there in the forest as some sort of prank or wishful sacrifice, Non's whereabouts would be fuzzy.

Which finally brings me to the asks:

Jin has to be the one to convince Non that all is well for Non to go along with this second trip since he is the kindest one, and the one who convinced Non to work with them on this movie in the first place. Jin has to be an active participant in Non's downfall. He is the main character, and it demands he not be passive in his role .

And that would make sense why Phi and New, Non's brother, are out for blood, specifically Jin's.

We don't know if New is an older brother or a younger brother.

So if the brother is even present at this House of Horrors, it could be intelligent and kind White who is in computer engineering and dating Tee, or it could be asthmatic Tan.

Who needs to smoke to control himself and his nerves.

Both boys joined the group AFTER Non disappeared, so both could be the brother since Non's parents would likely bring their other son back home if his brother went missing, but since I think Tan is the second killer and therefore the brother, that leaves White . . . who I've mentioned wasn't supposed to be there.

Unlike Phi, who hasn't heard any of the noises or seen any of the figures, Tan thinks he saw something in the house, and White has seen a rash on his skin, heard a noise in the forest, and seems genuinely confused by everything that is happening like finding out his boyfriend's uncle is being convicted of money laundering, but he could be acting.

Which makes me doubt his adorable little face sometimes, but it's also why I think he will be the Final Gay.

He may be small but he is mighty and he has proven several times that he will survive by connecting the walkie-talkie, finding the gun and the cord to watch the footage, and by being kind and caring.

Which are the perfect characteristics for the lead role because the script needs a new main character once all the other characters are killed off, including the original main one.

Therefore, in my Wild Ass Theory, White has to be the Final Gay because once the current main character is dead,

he'll be the new main character.

In order to be the last man standing, a few sacrifices have to be made.

And the boys already proved that.

[theguyinthemathexamples]

been a long while since I've been back, so here's something before i disappear again ✌️

so here and now, i would like to introduce to you all,

The Levels Of Self Awareness in SAGAU

(aka, the ones I've seen so far)

Warning(s): Cursing(probs), possible misinformation?, not really accurate?, my opinions, my humour and experience, and more.

Not proofread, we die like Guizhong in the Archon War.

1. None. Just- Just none.

As the name suggests, none. Just your average game.

No, literally, there's nothing to worry about here.

No worrying about getting sucked in while you're sleeping or anything of the like.

Nothing strange happens (for now) while you're playing, nothing like that.

No extra items, no extra friendship exp, no extra anything.

It's best to savour it while you still can.

2. "Since when did i get that??"

This is when the "getting extra stuff" and/or "extra luck" happens.

Either your characters have been doing some offcam grinding themselves, or you've just been collecting stuff for a while now and haven't really looked into your bag other than to switch gadgets.

Normally, you probably just caught one crystalfly, and yea it shows that, but either 1. it shows you got multiple, or 2. you have a tiny bit/alot more crystalflies in ur bag the last time you checked.

Maybe that's what they want you to think, who knows.

You'd also probably get lucky with a pull or more - usually nothing more than ten or so.

Your characters would also glitch a lil. Things like the sudden cancelling of idle animations, not switching onto the character you want/need, accidental skill/burst activation, and more.

Though, those only happen on occasion. It's not common enough for you to notice and just interpret as misclicks, but also rare enough to set off a raised eyebrow or red flag inside of you.

Nothing happens out of the ordinary outside of your phone.

Apps like Youtube, Google, Chrome, Photos/Gallery, etc. aren't tampered with.

You're good ... As long as the characters don't break through the 636f6465, that is.

3. "Yo," - Kaeya, 2022

It's probably time to delete and redownload Genshin at this point.

You might see hints of you - i.e statues, your favorite color/thing appearing here and there, characters mentioning someone by "Their/His/Her Grace" or some other title, etc.

Your Gallery might be affected, a few photos of a character and/or a view from Genshin.

Getting extra stuff also (probably) gets more frequent

Either you get them through mail or it just gets sent to your storage/bag directly.

The character glitches also happen a lil more frequently.

Oh, you wanted [thing] but didn't have the chance to do so? Don't worry, we'll get it for you, Your Grace. Just occupy yourself with some other miscellaneous tasks and you'll have it in no time.

Your luck also increases a lil more.

The character you've wanted for some time now but didn't get the chance to get them before? Yep, you guessed it, you lost your 50/50 atleast 4 times now.

Lmao I'm kidding

But seriously, if it's what you've been wanting for some time now, you're at least bound for one or a few 50/50 losses (unless you're guaranteed)

It's also why you (probably) get that one unwanted 5* because you wanted to try your luck/build pity.

Jealousy runs in the family, as they say. It's almost unavoidable, really. (looks at my lost 50/50s)

Hey, don't blame them! They were just... excited that you wanted to even pull on their banner, y'know?

Level them up and ascend them to level 20. I dare you.

I mean hey, atleast you'll get a free acquiant fate after you ascended them.

It only takes 7 Hero's Wit, 1 Wanderer's Advice, and their ascension mats.

It's basically a win/win, is it not?

You get a free fate, they get strength. It's fair for everyone.

You don't even have to give them a new weapon or any artifacts! Just leveling them up will do the job, will it not?

4. Caught You Slippin'

Oh, and if the Barbatos statue at Mondstadt actually changed into you, it's best if you just, yk, just look at the first • on this #.

It's too late to turn back now.

This is the "isekai" part of SAGAU, aka, where most fics take place.

This might be a major jump from the previous #, but hey, i started making this at 5AM.

But besides that, what AU you end up is all based on chance.

I'm sure you get the gist of this #. If you don't, i don't blame you.

Remember that one machine in Albedo's cave? That big rectangle/oval one? You don't? Good cuz neither do i.

Either you got sucked in and woke up somewhere in Teyvat, or you woke up to a bunch of hot people staring at you.

This part of the post is very sensitive to change, so I can't really say much here.

Just know that if you manage to find yourself at this point, you probably don't have a chance in getting back to your normal life without getting atleast a tiny bit of trauma.

C/N: Yea, it's me Your broy, chips ahoy, Cake.

Didn't expect me to post, did you? Well, you probably did, but hey, i like imagining nonexistent things

Anyways, have this while u still can cause i'm going back to nap again

Oh wait right i just remembered i haven't done my commissions

Nevertheless, thank you for all of your patience.

Peace — ★

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for kicking someone out of my D&D campaign for reasons not entirely related to the game?

This is long but the context is important I swear.

About a year ago, I (30X) tried to assemble a D&D group with my coworkers. After a whole lot of fucking around, the guy who was going to DM moving across the country, and a bunch of people quitting or getting fired, it ended up being me as the DM, my brother, a few other people who I met through a different campaign, and one guy who used to work with me.

This guy, J (23M), had a lot of personal problems when he worked for us, most of which contributed to him being let go. He had a lot of family issues that led to him missing a lot of work (and I mean A Lot. We have a Very good PTO system for the US that basically amounts to accruing one day off for every 50 hours you work, earning more the longer you stay with the company, and more allowance for attendance infractions than any company I've ever heard of in the states). He also had a lot of interpersonal issues with some of the employees, one in particular, K (21F), with whom he had some kind of situationship. I try not to get involved in work drama, so I don't know all the details.

J also has issues with money, transportation, and depression/suicidal tendencies. I'm not judging him for any of those, as I have experience with them as well, but he has been leaning on me pretty heavily around every time we hang out to play D&D. I would cover his 120$+ Uber rides home, which he would sometimes pay me back but sometimes not (if I couldn't afford it once a month, I wouldn't do it, but he insists he's going to pay me back; since he has lost yet another job I am not expecting it at all and don't hold it against him really, but I do think it's kind of shitty to insist you're going to when you clearly won't be able to), pay for his food, work with my family members to get him home, and let him crash at my house to avoid ordering an Uber. He also messaged me when he was feeling suicidal - bad enough to be institutionalized after I sent him the number for the suicide hotline. Again, no judgement, but it made me uncomfortable because I struggle with the same things. He seemed bothered that I told him I wasn't able to talk him through it, but that may have just been the crisis talking.

After all that, we come to a game session that involves more than just navigating dangerous spaces and fighting off wild animals. The rest of the party does fine, but J really botches the social interaction part, despite everyone telling him what he's doing is a bad idea and me doing my best as a DM to communicate that he should change tactics. He does not change tactics and instead doubles down and goes full murderhobo, which is not the kind of player I'm interested in playing with, something I thought J understood from previous conversations.

My original plan was to say something to the table at our next session about removing themselves from the game if the themes weren't something they were interested in engaging with, but then I get some additional info today about J and K.

Apparently J has been incredibly possessive towards K - someone who, again, he was not dating in any meaningful capacity - for weeks or months, to the point that she has blocked him on social media off and on. And then this past week, J has sent her screenshots of her location, contacted her ex who she still lives with for logistical reasons, made him upset to the point that K thought he was going to kick her out of his apartment, and harassed K's brother to try to get her to talk to him again. K is seriously considering taking out a restraining order against him at this point. J has also been updating his social media to imply that he is going to kill himself.

To say this behavior raises some red flags is an understatement. Clearly J needs help, but as a regular guy, that's really not something I'm able to provide beyond sending mental health hotlines, and I don't feel comfortable being his support system in the way he obviously needs.

All that said, I feel like I might be an asshole for kicking him out of the campaign full stop, because he's been really excited to play this whole time. But the combination of all this really worrisome, potentially dangerous behavior and the mundane reality of him just being a really annoying player kind of has me at my wits end, so, WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[deadsnothere]

Hi!! Could I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader fic where it is dark in the evening and the reader and lockwood are cuddling on the couch and its pouring raining and just like enjoying each others presence. Like stealing kisses and just whispering sweet nothings to each other. I would love that!!!! Please take your time!! Thank you so much!!!!

"One love, One lifetime."

Synopsis - Lockwood & Co finally get a rainy day off! but what happens when a blanket gets stolen from its rightful owner?

Request - YES!!

Word Count - 1.8k

Speak Ali! - I'm not dead, I have a theater competition soon so i probably won't be posting may anymore this week other than me ranting. but you can still definitely request shit!!!

Masterlist

We’d finally had a real day off! Whenever Anthony says we’ll have a day off I'm not sure if I can believe him. I mean we’ll have a few hours off at most but then another case comes in urgently and we’ll deal with that. So we almost never have a real day off.

Until today.

It was 8 o'clock on the dot. I finished the dishes after dinner, since I was the one to cook tonight. Wiping down the water from the counter and my hands. I've spent all day doing nothing but reading. It's amazing. I have this adventurous sort of romance book i'm reading right now, I have only 50 pages left of the 430. I got to the part where the main character finds her long lost girlfriend in this big haunted library where she's been under a sleep spell for years. I'm so excited to see how their reunion plays out!

I folded the kitchen towel up and threw it in the small hamper George put out for the kitchen wash. Passing the library, I opened the front door looking out on the rain and “gloom” outside. Lucy was ‘stuck’ at Norries in all the rain, while George was upstairs in his room. Anthony was doing the same, I’d gone up and visited them both a few times, George to make sure he wasn't stressing over our case tomorrow, and Anthony just to say “Hi”. I closed the door and backtracked to the library to finish my book.

I sat down on the chair in front of the desk, reaching back to pull the blanket I had on me earlier back to its rightful spot on my shoulders. But it wasn't there- Who moved my blanket?- no one else had been downstairs!- I stood up looking around the room, almost jumping when I noticed Mr. Anthony Lockwood himself sleeping on the long side chair. He looked kinda uncomfortable, one leg was on top of his knee, while his head was tilted back. My blanket is laying on top of him. I sighed, rolling my eyes lovingly, he is cute. I can't deny it.

“Baby, you have my blanket-” I poked him softly, but he just whispered incoherently back at me. Scrunching his face up and moving away. Oh my god, he is so fucking cute. I kissed his cheek softly, when he didn't move then I went to drastic measures. Attacking his face with kisses, leaving them all over his forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, temples. He woke up very quickly, laughing when I continued to kiss him. “A-Alias what are you doing!” I pulled back from my attack to talk to him. “You have my blanket.” Smiling at him slyly. “Is that really why you woke me up?” He groaned, pulling me into a kiss. I raised an eyebrow back, giggling when he pushed me into his lap. “Are you really that mad about me waking you up how I did?” He thought about it for a second, just shrugging.

I stood up once again to go back to my book but he didn't let go of my hand. “We could always share your blanket.” Anthony made a fair point, with his real genuine smile. Smiling back at him, I softly pulled my hand away. I think his body physically deflated when we let go of contact. but he was quick to reflate when I picked up my book striding back to him. “If you want you can lay your head in my lap while I read- Or I can lay on you.” He was quick to lean against the side of the chair, letting his legs finally stretch out on top of the soft fabric, patting his lap for me to lay down as well. “Well eager, are we?” Giggling, I finally laid down on top of him, my waist in between his legs and arms holding up my book.

We’d stayed like this for a while, Anthony was reading along with me but half way through a paragraph he’d fallen asleep. He always looked so peaceful when sleeping. No matter how stressed he was when he fell asleep there was nothing to worry about, not a care to be shown on his face. He said he used to have bad nightmares, but with me they were always “better” whatever that meant. I guess it either means I make his dreams better or I've stopped the nightmares.

He’s definitely helped me to...After the night of the Fairfax incident he came to my room to sleep, I planned to go to him but he’d beat me to it. Nothing was better than feeling his arms wrap around me (tighter than normal) He confessed the next morning that he was scared, about what happened with Fairfax threatening me, and I ended up giving them more information about my past and what Fairfax had to do with it.

Once I'd finished the book I set it down on the floor turning around to put my face into Anthony's chest. Humming the tune of “All i ask of you” from Phantom of the opera, A Musical I performed in, for a case and for fun. “My words will warm and calm you.” I placed a hand on his cheek rubbing softly, while singing to him and to me. “Let me be your freedom.” I started to hum again when he stirred abit. mumbling my name softly, and going right back to his deep sleep. “Let daylight dry your tears.” When I placed a kiss on his jaw it wasn't meant to wake him this time, more just a soft reminder I was still with him. “I'm here, with you, beside you.” I kissed his jaw again in a different place. “To guard you, and to guide you.”

I still remember how jealous he was when I was first put in the role of Christine daae. He was there every practice and every show being careful to watch how genuinely my reactions were. He's always been protective of me. But he shows it differently, protective in a silent way.

“Say you love me every waking moment.” I closed my eyes humming the song. “Say you need me with you now and always.” I felt a hand slowly lift my head up, pulling me into a kiss. It was passionate and caring, all the love in the world was behind it. “I need you with me, you're my shelter, my light.”

“One love, one lifetime.”

“One love, one lifetime.”

“I could make out with you right now, that was so romantic..” Anthony laughed at my lack of filter rubbing my cheeks with his hands pulling me into a kiss but pulling away before I could keep my words to my mouth. “Your voice is absolutely breathtaking darling.” “You're an idiot.” He smiled at me trying to keep his romantic words going. “You know you’re only saying that because you can't take a compliment.” I gasped, almost offended. (if it weren't so true). “I can take a compliment! I took the compliment show night!” Anthony looked a little too proud of himself. We both knew why he was so touchy that night, him watching me “flow, flawlessly” with another man made his blood boil but instead of getting mad at me for something I couldn't control. He just simply showed the man who’s I was. whether that meant hickeys in more than obvious places, or getting caught kissing in my dressing room. The poor actor always knew who’s I was, and Anthony was always beaming at that fact.

“Show night was different.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “What because you were jealous I danced in another man's arms so you just had to show me off.” He scoffed next, looking away from me with an obvious hint of “I can't protect myself” or I like to think it was that anyway. “I did not show you off. You were on the news and they asked me, how I thought of your performance. When they asked how I was close to you I just don't think they were expecting me to say boyfriend and kiss you…on live tv.” I nodded sarcastically. “My parents called me later that night asking why my shade of burgundy lipstick was being snogged off onto yours on live tv.” He laughed knowing exactly where this was going. “You're lucky they like bold people! you would be dead if it weren't for the fact.”

He swelled with pride. My parents loved him, If it weren't for quill i'm sure they would've loved him even more. “That even got me a few points with your brother.” And in Anthony's position as his “enemy” that's hard. “You don't need points with my brother, idiot.” He knew that better than anyone, if I knew my brother didn't like him for a good reason I wouldn't have joined his company or started dating him. “Alias, Darling, I know. I just feel like maybe earning his respect is still in line here, you are his little sister so I can understand why he would be protective.” He was so sweet when he wasn't wishing my brother dead after saving our asses on a case. “Well baby, I know he definitely respects you after the locket case.”

“The locket case.” During the locket case we were miss informed again. A woman showed up at our door at three am, said she was struggling with a ghost problem. As it was 3 am, George had no time to research, so we all got dressed and went to work on the case. It ended up with me in the hospital, with Anthony in the bed on the other side of the room. He was always an idiot, jumping in front of us and never caring for himself first.

“Those nurses hated us.” The nurses always got mad at us because we were never in our own beds. But we were too nervous to let the other go. Apparently my brother showed up while I was passed out. He said

“Tony sat there bleeding out refusing to room with anyone but you. I thought he was actually going to die on his statement. He was saying all the romantic shit about ‘I can't leave them alone’ and ‘I have to know their ok’. It was disgustingly sweet.”

Quill didn't say it but he respected Anthony for that, I was glad to know they could sort of get along when needed.

Wow I get lost in my thoughts easily, when being pulled out of my head, Anthony had already fallen back to sleep. His heart beat going back to a slow pace, his hands were intertwined at the back of my neck, and his head seemed to be in a much more comfortable position. He's so peaceful. This reminds me of a scene in my book but instead of me finding him in a sleep curse in a giant haunted library, he dragged me down with him.

I kissed his cheek one more time before finally laying my head down to take a nap too. George is going to be pissed in the morning when he finds us, especially since my book is on the floor.

[nostalgicamerica]

My Weight-Loss Journey

Over the last three decades, despite a relatively active lifestyle, my weight has steadily increased a pound or two per year. I could see it was becoming a problem every morning in my foggy bathroom mirror.

I finally realized that I had to do something about it last fall when I walked out onto my porch one morning. The neighbor's kitten came over to say good morning and got caught up in my gravitational field and went into orbit around my waistline.

It was then I started looking into different diets. Keto, Caveman, high fat, low carb, lima bean, Atkins. Holy crap! The number of different diet choices were staggering. Greater still were the numbers of dieticians and nutritionists shrieking that this diet is best and only a booger-eater would choose that diet.

After a bit of cogitation, I started researching the Carnivore diet.

It sounded right up my alley: eating nothing but meat, cheese, eggs, and dairy products, and drinking water. And I could eat bacon. Basically, I could eat anything that is animal-based.

The bacon thing sold it for me.

The week before Thanksgiving 2023 I started my new diet plan. You might think that dieting during the holidays wasn't a grand idea, and you'd be right. Eating nothing but meat while watching my family chowing down on traditional holiday meals (turkey and all the fixings for Thanksgiving, and ham and all the fixings for Christmas) and stuffing their faces with cookies and candy and pie and everything else associated with the holidays was as much fun as stuffing a cactus up my rectum.

But I stuck to it.

To this point in my life I had never been disciplined about anything related to food, but somewhere along the way I found the strength to keep anything not indicated by the diet out of my pie hole. (except coffee - I'll be cold, dead, and buried before I stop drinking coffee.)

And the weight came off. 3,4,5 pounds a week. It seemed to literally melting off me. My initial goal was 50 pounds by the end of February and then I'd transition to something more sustainable.

It wasn't easy, at times, especially during the first 2 or 3 weeks. I bought some bite-size sugar free candy to take the edge off for the times when I was jonesing for sugar. And I ate a ton of bacon.

By Christmas Eve I had lost 20.5 pounds. By January's close I had dropped 34 pounds. On January 8th, 2024 I got out of the shower and looked down and saw my penis without a mirror for the first time since about 2003. Also, I could see a six-pack peeking from behind what remains of my belly fat. As of this writing I'm down 39 Pounds. I have a few more days to go, but I don't think I will hit 50. But that's okay.

On March 1st I will start introducing fruits and veggies and whole grains to my diet. I intend to stay away from cane sugar and continue drinking only water.

There have been some negatives along the way. 1. I now abhor the sight of steak. 2. My dog won't stop licking my legs. 3. I have had to go out and buy essentially a new wardrobe.

What I've learned - coupled with portion control - is that 90% of weight loss happens in the kitchen, and the plain fact that bacon makes everything better.

Even though I didn't meet my first goal of 50, I intend to keep going until I've met my ultimate goal of 60. I know I can do it by the end of this year.

I don't know if this will work for everyone; I only relate what I did and what happened. Overall I feel great, I am sleeping great, and my spousal unit says I look better than I have since the beginning of the Clinton administration, although she wants to buy a new car so she may be playing me...

There is enough info about the carnivore diet on the interweb-thingee so I won't add anything else except to say if I can do it, anyone can.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Who are you? I love you | {UzuRen}

Theme: Fluff

Note: The wheel originally chose death angst but I re-rolled it bc the last UzuRen I wrotewas death angst so.. here's some fluff (this is if Kyojuro lived, and Tengen was never a Hashira (this is an AU please don't kill me I'm just doing what the wheel said-))

Tengen wasn't a Hashira bc he stayed as the Shinobi (ninja thingy i forget) for longer and when he became a demon slayer, he'd not gotten a chance to come across a 12 kizuki/didn't have enough time to kill 50(?) demons (I'm aware that Tengen is rlly strong and shit so he would've risen in ranks faster if he had more time :>)

Kyojuro was there, when Muzan was defeated. He was there and he was alive. He looked around at all the people around him. He smiled in a sort of sad way because they'd lost so many people. 

He moved through the crowds, finding himself admist a group of demon slayers. He smiled at them nodding as they asked if he was okay—he had wounds that definitely needed tending to, but they weren't the worst acquired by everyone else and he wanted other people to be helped first. The group of demon slayers seemed in awe of him, knowing he was a Hashira. 

Eventually they had to go to help the other people around since they hadn't been injured as much, but one of them stayed, curious of Kyojuro. 

"What's your name?" the demon slayer asked. He was taller than Kyojuro with a bandage over his eye—presumably where he'd acquired a wound. 

"Rengoku Kyojuro," the Hashira informed him, the smile still playing on his face. "And you? Don't you want to go off with your friends?"

"Eh," the demon slayer said, shrugging. "I'll go to them in a minute. I'm Uzui Tengen. Former Shinobi. I honestly wish I'd had more time to become a Hashira, you know?"

"You look like you might," Kyojuro pointed out. "When did you get into the demon slayer corps?"

"Not long ago," Tengen said, sighing. "Well, at least now my wives won't worry about me. They've worried ever since I've become a demon slayer—as if being a ninja was any better," he said with a short laugh.

"Yeah. Wait—wives? Ninja?" Kyojuro asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yes, why?"

"How old are you?!" Kyojuro said, then quickly apologized.

Tengen grinned. "I'm only 23, why?"

"You.. You said wives. Plural." Kyojuro crossed his arms, confused.

"Tradition," Tengen waved off. "Doesn't matter."

"..Okay. Well, I'm 20," Kyojuro said, changing the subject. 

"Nice, when did you become Hashira? Or, uh, demon slayer?"

"Don't know, age become a blur when your focus is on making sure no one dies because you made a mistake," he said. He said it in a light tone, but it really wasn't anything 'light.' 

"True."

They stared at each other for a beat, then someone called out Tengen's name and he turned. A woman was waving him over and he shouted back her name—at least that's what Kyojuro assumed—and told her he'd be there in a minute. 

"Right, got to go," Tengen said, sighing. 

"Mhm! See you around," Kyojuro smiled.

He watched Tengen run up to the woman and hug her, before they went off to find someone, it seemed. Kyojuro kept his eyes on the man for a moment, then turned away to help the others with bringing people to safety. 

"God, why does he have to be married," Kyojuro muttered, pushing his hair back. He weaved through the rubble and found an injured demon slayer. He picked her up and carried her to the place where the wounded lay. 

Giyuu walked up beside him, looking defeated. 

"Oh, hello, Tomioka," Kyojuro said brightly. 

"Hi."

"Are you okay? Did you get any more injured than you were before Kamado?" he asked, concerned. 

"No." 

"You lost an arm? I'm sorry.." Kyojuro said, noticing the bandage wrapped around the end of what was left of Giyuu's arm. 

"It's okay. Are you alright? The other Hashira are.. not. Shinazugawa is unconscious but the Kakushi are tending to him. They say if he was a regular person he would've died, but because he's a Hashira he will have a chance to survive," Giyuu informed him, his expression remaining in it's usual impassive state, though a tone of tiredness clouded it. 

"Ah.." 

Both Hashira looked out in the crowd of people, bustling about. It almost could've looked normal if there was not a great amount of fallen demon slayers and blood and broken down buildings. 

Kyojuro turned back to Giyuu, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I met this demon slayer! His name is Uzui." 

"Uzui? Sounds familiar," Giyuu murmured, his eyes still scanning the people around him. 

"Oh?"

"This woman was crying because she couldn't find her husband, I think. Said her name was, uh," Giyuu paused, thinking. "Uzui something. Started with an 's'? Sumi? Suma? Something like that."

"Oh, well, Uzui said he had several wives. And he's only 23," Kyojuro remarked.

"Really? Who has the time to marry?" Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Dunno."

The lapsed back into silence and continued watching around, helping the occasional Kakushi who walked past them. Then Kyojuro pointed off to a person who was surrounded by a group of people, all of them talking. 

"The one in the midde? White hair? That's Uzui," he said to Giyuu.

"Ah. Are the women his wives?"

"I don't know, he never said who they were. Or how many."

"You sound disappointed," the Water Hashira said, turning to Kyojuro. 

"Disappointed?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I'm not," Kyojuro said, a nervous laugh tracing his words.

"No?"

"No, no, I'm not."

"Suit yourself." Giyuu paused. "If you like him, best tell his wives first." Then he left, walking towards the direction the Kamado siblings sat. 

If you like him, best tell his wives first. 

Kyojuro sighed and leaned against a particularily large piece of concrete. He supposed he shouldn't fall for someone he just met. What was the point? 

And of course, the person just had to be married. To several people. Just great.

~~~

Tengen grinned as his wives explained how Suma had dropped her plate and had caused the whole restaurant to erupt in chaos somehow. 

By now, it was the demon slayer corps all healing from the losses and celebrating Muzan's defeat. About a month had gone by and Tengen and his wives had gotten into helping everyone with the excuses and the rebuilding and the burying and healing. 

And though it had been so long, Tengen's mind constantly wandered back to the Hashira. The Flame Hashira with hair like fire whose smile seemed to brighten everyone. He'd seen Kyojuro around when he'd been helping and they talked every now and then. 

But not enough to sooth Tengen's terrible want. 

Which he hated himself for. He didn't want to want. He had three wives for fuck's sake! He turned where he stood and Hinatsuru, startled, stumbled back.

"Oh shit, sorry," he mumbled. "I'm going to go buy some food, alright?"

His wives nodded, confused. "Okay, bye!" Suma said cheerfully, glad for the change of subject.

"Bye," he agreed, smiling and grabbing his bag. 

~~~

Kyojuro walked silently down the street, tired. He'd had a long day today, pushing himself to the limits to help as much around as he could. He probably shouldn't have done that much but he needed to take his mind off of Tengen.

And it didn't work. Unfortunately.

He turned the corner, his eyes on the ground. Then he realized he was about to bump into someone and looked up just in time before he nearly crashed right into Tengen who was holding a bag and apparently rushing somewhere.

"Uzui?" Kyojuro asked, startled. "Sorry, are you going somewhere?"

"Well, I said I would be so I probably should. You?"

"Nope. Mostly on my way home, but I don't think I'm needed there at the moment so I was just walking. You know?"

"Ah, right." Tengen nodded, smoothing his hair. "Uhh, want to go to the store with me?"

Yes, yes he did. He should say no, but.. "Sure, why not?"

Kyojuro smiled and Tengen smiled back. 

"Great!"

~~~

Tengen couldn't believe his luck. Which, at the moment, he was unsure if that was meant negatively or positively. He loved being with Kyojuro for one thing, but he needed something to stop him from being so focused on the Hashira. He shouldn't be falling in love with someone when he already had wives..

He took his time as he walked side by side Kyojuro. They talked a bit as they headed to the store, finding themselves at peace. 

"Have anything to do this weekend?" Tengen asked, changing the subject.

"No, why?"

"Want to come over to my house? I need something to do. Too much time to think and thinking is boring," Tengen said, shrugging.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Which day? When?" Kyojuro asked.

Tengen shook his head. "What day do you want? I'm free both, from what I know."

"Alright! What about, uh, saturday? Sunday, if I manage it, I'm planning to convince Senjuro and my father to go somewhere with me. Is that okay?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Yes! I mean, uh, yep. So in two days. Cool. Where should I pick you up at?"

"What about the park? The one a block away from here?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Alright."

Tengen smiled, happy with this. 

Kyojuro smiled back, not knowing what was going through Tengen's mind right now.

~~~

He seemed take longer to get ready this time, as Kyojuro fixed his hair. It was saturday and he was going to see Tengen. He honestly couldn't wait, couldn't help day dreaming about what it might be like to spend the day with Tengen and not just mindless conversations while they worked. 

He left the house with a smile and made his way to the park happily. Tengen was there waiting for him and he took him to his house. 

Tengen introduced Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio to Kyojuro more properly and Kyojuro found that they were really sweet women. They didn't seem to mind at all when Tengen had hugged him. They had snacks ready for Kyojuro who took it gratefully—finding that it was Tengen's wives who had made it. It had been "UMAI!" as he'd declared. 

As time passed on and they were having fun, Kyojuro went to the bathroom. When he came back, he paused in front of the door, hearing Tengen and his wives speaking in hushed tones.

"Tengen, we don't mind that you like him too! He's really nice," Hinatsuru assured the man. 

"Really?" Tengen asked, sounding surprised. 

"Of course!" Suma decided. "He also said our cooking was delicious. He's so sweettt!!"

Tengen laughed softly. "Yes, he's amazing!" 

Kyojuro smiled to himself. 

Makio paused. "Just don't forget about us and you can date him," she ordered, putting her hands on her hips. 

"Deal," Tengen said, smiling. Then he flinched and his wives surrounded him, worried. "No, no, I'm fine. Just.. Kyojuro?" 

Makio nodded. "Yes, that's who we've been talking about, right..?"

"Yeah. I meant, uh, Kyojuro. I think he just heard what we said," Tengen murmured.

Kyojuro jolted, surprised. He opened the door sheepishly, looking guilty. "Yes, I did.. Sorry.."

{Word count: 1829}

I'M EVILLL 

imma do a part 2 MAYBE 😊

The wheel's choice: Eavesdropping, Future AU, Strangers to lovers

[illiana-mystery]

This fic, which will have a part 1, part 2, and part 3 goes out to @braindead94, @lost-in-the-forest-again, and @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky

One Thumb Down (Pt. 1)

*This is a prequel to He Won't Hurt You*

Plot: On a seemingly normal, but eerily quiet Thursday afternoon at The Magic Castle, Neveah (reader) is disrupted from said odd quiet by an unruly lodger named Destiny Montoya. After a long back and forth, Neveah soon finds herself helping Bobby complete a maintenence request for her. But during this request, Neveah sustains a small, yet very painful injury. Good thing, she has the strong and sweet Bobby to help her.

⚠️ This is an 18+ fic with mild NSFW content. Minors do not engage. 🔞 Thank you. 🙂

Taglist: @ghnaim24 ​, @dreamlikedesires @iobsessoverfictionalmen ​, @emily-ella-nightshade89​, @goodoldcharley, @writingkitten

---

It seemed like such a normal, summertime Thursday afternoon at The Magic Castle.

The birds were still chirping loudly, the sun was beaming over all of Orlando, and the children were out playing despite the heat.

And for a moment in time, you just stood by the front door happily watching the children play while enjoying the burning sunlight.

It was a sight and feeling that reminded you of better days from your childhood. A time where you had not a care in the world and no responsibilities.

But you were soon taken out of your daydream and forced back into reality when you heard familiar footsteps.

Quickly, you made your way back inside and behind the front desk before he could see you.

Because though he liked you, he was still a stickler for rules.

It didn't bother you though.

You did like to keep him happy and impressed with you, since despite your large age gap, you had a massive crush on the motel manager you called your boss…

Robert William Hicks.

But everyone called him Bobby.

He was well within his 50s, but he still oozed sex appeal and he knew it. He dressed as a younger man all the time and wasn't afraid to wear tight short sleeves and muscle shirts during the summer.

You couldn't help but stare.

You always liked older men, but Bobby really took the cake.

The door soon swung open a few minutes after you got settled back to your post. And in walked the manager himself.

He was red from head to toe, his face sweating profusely.

But yet, he still looked like a snack and a half.

It was a muscle shirt day and the sweat covered cotton clung to his abs while his cargo shorts tightly clung onto his junk. His nose freckles looked exceptionally pronounced and his sandy brunette hair was damp and curled like you liked.

He was a sight to behold, but you had to stay calm. You had to be professional, so you immediately looked him in his beautiful cyan eyes as he approached you.

“Any lodgers give you trouble while I was working on our A/C unit?” he asked, concern dripping in his tone.

“No, it's been quiet,” you reply, pretending to start typing since looking into his eyes made your knees weak. “I have been trying to watch those kids though. Ever since you caught that creep, I've been worried about them.”

He warmly smiled before he put his hand on your shoulder.

“Neveah, I appreciate your big heart but watching over those kids is my responsibility not yours. You're my intern. You don't have to worry about the wellbeing of the lodgers.”

“I know. But still,” you moaned, before admitting, “I was almost taken advantage of by a predator when I was around their age. I wish I had you to save me. Luckily he was arrested before he could molest me.”

Bobby looked horrified as he slowly took his hand from your shoulder. His action worried you a little, until he walked behind you and hugged you.

Swiftly, you turned around in his grasp and hugged him back, trying to hold in your tears.

“It's okay, Nev. I had no idea. I'm so sorry that happened to you. I hope that bastard is still rotting in prison.”

“He is,” you assured him.

“Good. I'm glad Sheriff Rugg is tough on predators like that jackass,” he huffed. “You okay though? I didn't mean to open an old wounds.”

“I'm okay, Bobby,” you replied as he let you go.

“Good,” he said with a warm smile. “Now I'm gonna go back into my office. But feel free to knock if you need anything.”

“I will,” you responded immediately.

He chuckled before leaving you alone at the desk.

For about an hour, the lobby was peaceful and the only sound was the static from the old Toshiba black TV hanging from the ceiling.

An old DVD copy of Old Yeller was playing, but you drowned it out with your 90s Britpop Playlist as you quietly scrolled your phone.

You did yawn a couple of times, but you did enjoy the peace and quiet. Usually the lobby was bustling with new guests or angry residents no matter the day of the week.

So it was a nice change of pace.

But your peace was short-lived because at The Magic Castle, you can't have nice things.

Before you could even blink, the front doors to the lobby swung open and in came one of the more unruly residents of the motel,

Destiny Montoya.

The young woman smelled like Marijuana from head to toe and was dressed in nothing but a tattered lingerie set underneath a rob.

Her curly brunette hair was unkempt and all over her head while her tattooed sleeved arms seemed purpled from bruising.

That caused some concern to you, but you were never able to get a word in when it came to Destiny.

No, she would say what she wanted to say and then expect you to do as she said.

“Hello, can I help you?” you reluctantly asked.

The woman rolled her brown eyes before taking a puff of her newly lit cigarette.

“Where's Bobby?” she rudely asked. “This is a matter for him not a silly intern.”

“He's in his office working on paperwork,” you replied. “I was told not to disturb him.”

She rolled her eyes before saying,

“I don't care what he told you. It's an emergency. I have a john coming over and I can't host him with a broken mini fridge.”

“Why does it matter if your mini fridge is broken? He's not coming over for a snack,” you remarked.

“I store my water in there for after our sessions,” she huffed. “They have to get their energy back up after a few rounds with me.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Wait, I don't have to explain anything to you. Get Bobby now. I don't have time to wait around.”

“I told you he's busy.”

“Well, I told you it's an emergency. Either get him or I'll drag him out myself.”

You rolled your eyes again, but finally relented. You knew how Bobby was when it came to Destiny.

It was no secret that he was a former john of hers. It was a fact made you want to throw up, but it wasn't like you could admit your crush to him.

So softly you knocked on his office door before he told you to come in. You did and told him what was going on outside.

He grimaced, but followed you back to the desk to talk it over with Destiny.

“Finally,” the woman huffed, clutching her cigarette.

“Destiny, you know the rules,” he sternly told her. “No smoking in the lobby.”

“You smoke all the time, Bobby. Why are you lecturing me? Don't I have rights as a lodger?”

“I smoke outside, Destiny. You know that,” he said before he snatched her cigarette and put it out on the ash tray on the counter. “Now how can I help you?”

“You can help me by buying me another pack of cigarettes,” she huffed, making Bobby groan. “And I need a new mini fridge. Mine just broke and I need to have cold water for my john that's coming tonight.”

“What time is he coming?”

“Eight,” she proudly answered. “Why do you want to know? Would you like me to pencil you in for a session soon after?”

“I'm gonna have to take a raincheck, Ms. Montoya,” he responded. “But no. I only asked so I know my window of time to complete this service. Juan is on call today, but I can ring him up to help me if I need to.”

“I can help,” you quickly volunteered. Bobby looked at you with pure shock, before asking,

“What? Neveah, no. I can call Juan. It's his job to help me around the property.”

“Oh come on. Please? I can just put up the out of office sign on the door. I used to do manual labor with my dad and older brothers. Please?! I won't let you down. I'd be great help.”

Destiny frowned at you, before asking Bobby,

“You're not actually thinking about letting her help you, right?”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “What the heck? Neveah has yet to disappoint me. And I'm curious to see your manual labor skills.”

“I won't let you down,” you promised.

“I know you won't,” he proudly said.

“So can you handle this now…or?,” Destiny rudely asked, ruining the moment.

“Yes, we can handle it now. Go on ahead to your room. We'll be right there.”

She cheered.

“Thank you, Bobby,” she said before attacking him with a hug. “You can get one session on the house for doing this for me. I know you miss all of this.”

He blushed.

“Like I said. Raincheck,” he replied before she huffed and left the lobby.

“She's really hung up on you,” you observed.

“Yeah, well, I have that effect on women,” he bragged, winking at you.

You blushed, but just took it as a joke from him. And luckily, he didn't even notice you blushing.

“Alright,” he started as he gathered his utility belt, “Let me just get all of my tools together. I just had to unplug the fridge and unbolt it from the wall. Then you can help me bring it down to the dumpster.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan,” you chirped eagerly. Bobby just chuckled in response.

You two left the lobby after, but not before you put the out of office sign up in the window and locked the door.

Once you did that, you both made your way up to the second floor where Destiny's room was.

Her door was right in front of the stairwell too, which meant it wouldn't take too long to get the old fridge to the dumpster and bring the new one in the storage closer up.

Bobby went ahead and knocked on the door once you were in front before Destiny called out,

“Who is it?”

“Your handyman,” Bobby bluntly answered.

“Oh, right. Coming,” she chirped before she answered the door.

The contrast between her red lit up room and the bright sunlight was the first thing you noticed. But that was before you saw the lingerie she was wearing more clearly.

It was sheer and black, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her labia lips and nipples were on full display and even Bobby couldn't play off his clear arousal.

It was evident on his blushed out face and the tent in his pants. You were more than angry now.

She knew you had a crush on him.

“Finally,” she said before she hugged him. “I was starting to get really thirsty myself. Come in, come in.”

You rolled your eyes, but followed Bobby into her little sex den. Even in the red lighting, you could make out the little plants, the shag rugs, the bohemian tapestries, and the beaded curtains separating the bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchenette storing the microwave and mini fridge.

It looked like a time capsule of the 70s, highlighted by the smell of patchouli, eucalyptus, and Sex on the Beach incense in the air.

“I'm glad you cleaned up a bit before we arrived,” Bobby chuckled, observing how clean the space was.

“Of course, Bobby,” she said before she picked up the blunt she was nursing before you arrived. “I've been taking your advice about cleaning. Want a puff?”

“No, no. You know I haven't had a blunt since my military days,” he softly rejected her.

“Oh come on, Bobby. It'll help calm your nerves.”

You wanted to step in and tell her no means no, but Bobby rebutted before you could.

“I'm good. I promise, Destiny. But thank you,” he said before he took out his pack of cigarettes in his utility belt. “But here, I'll spot you my pack of utility cigarettes to make up for earlier.”

“Thank you, Bobby,” she chirped, taking the pack from him. Surprisingly, she opened it and handed him one back.

“What are you…”

“You're gonna need one after the job is done,” she assured with a wink.

“Right,” he replied, putting the one cigarette back in his belt next to his lighter. He smiled at her before he finally noticed the bruising on her arms that you saw before.

“You alright, Des?” he softly asked.

She looked at him dumbfounded before she caught his eyes moving back to her arms.

“Yeah, I'm fine, Bobby. No need to be alarmed,” she assured him with a snicker and arm punch. “You know I like it rough.”

“I've never caused bruises like that on you.”

“That's because you're a gentleman. I practically had to beg you to be rough our first session,” she admitted, smirking as she noticed your discomfort. “It's all part of the job, Bobby, and I like it that way.”

You could tell Bobby didn't believe her for one second, but he didn't have the energy to try to get the truth out of her.

He came to her room to finish a maintenance request, not be her therapist.

“What ever you say, Des,” he relented. “Just know that Sergeant Robert William Hicks is always armed and well within his rights to rough up any john that goes too far. Sheriff Rugg is a dear friend and he'll always let me off with self defense.”

“I know, Bobby,” she assured him before she went back to her blunt and sat on her bed. “I'll leave you to your work now. I hope Neveah will actually be helpful.”

Bobby stopped you before you could give a rebuttal. Instead he replied,

“She will be. I trust her.”

“You're so sweet, Bobby,” she responded, as she began to look through the magazine she left on her nightstand.

You grumbled to yourself after their exchange, before Bobby gently touched your hand to get your attention.

That sudden touch made your heart beat so fast and your face red. Sure it wasn't the first time you touched hands, but damn did it feel nice again.

“Don't worry about her,” he whispered after. “Let's get to work.”

“Aye, Aye captain,” you cooed before he chuckled.

You were practically skipping as you followed him into the kitchenette, but quickly regained your composure before he could notice.

Although the smile he gave you made you think he did notice your walk and the way you reacted to his hand touch minutes prior.

“Someone's excited about their first maintenance request,” he joked.

“It’s only because she’s doing it with you,” Destiny remarked, still looking through her tabloid.

You wanted to punch her, but resisted since you saw Bobby trying to hide his clearly blushed face after she put you on blast.

“Well, I’m flattered, Nev,” he said, nonchalantly, before he got on his knees and took a good look at how the fridge was bolted into the wall.

“Ugh. I really hate how Miguel bolted these fridges to the wall. I know he meant well but there was a better way to go about this. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to deal with this and bolt the new one better.”

“How can I help make this easier for you?” you happily asked.

“Calm down, eager beaver,” Destiny snidely said.

You rolled your eyes.

“I just need you to hand me my screwdriver on my belt,” he kindly replied. “Otherwise, you can just keep standing pretty. But you can unplug it if you want once I'm done.”

“Okay!,” you chirped before you moved to his belt.

You did feel weird being that close to his naughty bits, but you managed to still get the screwdriver and give it to him with no issue.

Although your brain was going a mile a minute about how your fingers slightly grazed his bare skin near the belt due to his muscle shirt going up a bit after he knelt down.

Which also made you realize that the top of his ass was showing too. And when you glanced, you almost fainted.

You could tell he had a nice ass just by how his cargo shorts hugged his lower half very nicely. But getting a glimpse was a different thing entirely.

But you shook your head and did a little silent deep breathing, just trying to focus on the humming of the screwdriver.

Until the humming turned into a loud, obnoxious screeching sound.

“Oh, damnit!,” he cursed. “Blasted screw. Nev, can you reach in my pocket and get a flathead for me? This Phillips is worthless.”

“Okay,” you said as he unhooked the Phillips head and handed it to you to put in the pocket next to where the screwdriver was.

You put it back, quickly grabbed the flathead, and then handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said. “Looks like I’m going to have to do the Sergeant Mitchum Maneuver on these last two screws.”

“The Sergeant Mitchum Maneuver?”

“It’s a trick I learned from my fellow Sergeant on the front lines. Works like a charm when it came to fixing our planes and such.”

“Oh, okay,” you said before the humming rang again in your ears.

A few minutes later, the fridge was completely unbolted and he handed you all of the old screws to dispose of in the trash can nearby.

You obeyed, but still watched as he got up. He always did a long stretch after a job, and today was no different.

But he stretched even more dramatically, showing off his aged abdomen muscles and the sweat beads that decorated it.

“Okay, Nev, I need you again now,” he said before you hurried back over to him.

“Go ahead and unplug it, so we can take it to the dumpster.”

You nodded and got on your knees to do as he instructed, totally unaware that he was staring at your ass too.

However, disaster struck as soon as you moved your hand to clasp the plug. Before you could even pull it out, the unbolted fridge tilted towards you and ended up crushing your thumb before you could fully pull your hand away.

You screamed in pain, startling the quiet rentor who was still smoking her blunt.

Bobby then immediately went into action, distraught to see you in pain.

Quickly, he pulled the fridge away and chucked it to the side gently before he looked at your thumb.

It was swollen, purpled, and the nail had fallen off causing blood to ooze out of your nail bed.

Bobby looked horrified, but quickly asked Destiny if she had a bandage to stop the bleeding.

She relented, although she glared at you, before she went to the bathroom to get said bandage.

“I was afraid this was gonna happen,” she remarked after Bobby wrapped up your thumb.

“Not now, Destiny,” he huffed, making her pout. “Look, I'll call Juan to dispose of the old fridge and install the new one. I need to get Neveah to urgent care to make sure her thumb isn't infected.”

“But Bobby…”

“No buts, Destiny. If you want your john to have water, you're gonna have to let Juan finish the job. It's my fault that Neveah is hurt so I'm gonna take care of this. Got it?”

“Yes, Bobby,” she groaned before she glared at you again. “I hope you feel better.”

You didn't thank her though, since you knew she didn't mean it. She just didn't want to upset Bobby.

“Thanks, Destiny. I'll come back soon to make sure the fridge is working like it should.”

“And to cash in your raincheck?” she excitedly asked.

“We’ll see,” he said with a wink before he grabbed your uninjured hand in his own. “Let’s go, Nev.”

[mylittleredgirl]

Hi! I'm so excited you're finally watching MASH! I hope you enjoy it and I selfishly hope you grow to like Margaret who starts off as not great and then becomes great and my fav.

i am having a great time!! i started at the beginning of season one and just finished season two. some of the discs in the complete series set i got as a gift last year don't play right or cut out mid-episode, which is driving me a little nuts, but i guess i'm having the classic syndicated tv experience of randomly missing stuff and always having some episode i've never seen floating out there forever.

my long form thoughts so far for those interested:

it's such a great collection of characters for comedy, because they are all pathetic and terrible in their own unique way, but are so charming and funny and easy to watch while they commit their little crimes against common sense.

i really like the mix of episodes -- the We're Having A Caper episodes and then the ones where it's like we're just kind of living here and things happen in some kind of order, but the things aren't necessarily related, which feels very appropriate for the setting.

i'm watching without the laugh track, which highlights one of my favorite things, which is that the main and background characters laugh out loud at what's happening. it gives the show such a lived-in and messy feeling. i just came off of watching the good place 5 times in a row, where the dialogue and plot are especially tightly packed, so this feels especially like it has a lot of just hanging out.

i keep thinking about how i'm watching this show fifty years later, not knowing what is the 70s lampooning itself, what is the 70s lampooning the 50s, and what is actually being played straight but i assume is a joke because of my perspective. some scenes are hard to watch on purpose and some are hard to watch by accident.

i wish i were watching it with my dad so he could keep pausing it to explain things to me, even if they don't need explaining, because i think that would add to the experience.

character feelings after two seasons:

hawkeye: alan alda being so charming and having such great timing really makes this an easy get. of course i'm going to love him equally in both success and failure (mostly failure).

trapper: my bestie!!! there's something about his face that makes me feel like i know him personally. i just love his physical acting choices. it's always funny. my fave i think.

margaret: i definitely enjoy her!!! how can you not?? they introduce her as being both highly capable and The Sexiest American Woman In Korea, who either can have or has had every high ranking officer in the army, and then she's soooo horny for the most pathetic man alive that she can't function.

frank: the narrative requires him to suck sooooo much every minute of every episode, because everyone else also sucks, so he really needs to put his back into it. he's gotta be there and he does it well, idk what more to say.

henry: he fascinated me in season one because i was like... clearly he's supposed to be A Caricature, but i couldn't figure out which one, and then he turned out to be A Character instead. i love his complexity and his serious moments, but i don't tend to find drunk acting that funny, so a lot of his shtick is lost on me. i wonder if he's the only character (and maybe klinger?) where the laugh track would actually serve him.

radar: as a former assistant yeah bro i get it, you keep on keeping on.

father mulcahey: the only one who is not terrible at all so far even once. Protect Him. i am so happy every time he comes on screen.

klinger: i'm still warming up to him as a character since he's mostly a sight gag still.

the parade of nurses: i have decided to take it at face value that 1) they are all here at war because they're super horny, 2) they are playing hard to get for fun, and 3) the pill was somehow invented before 1950, and under those conditions GET IT GIRLSSSSS.

my largest outstanding question: were they all actually functioning people before the war? i assume war did this to them but it's also possible they were like this before and their wives are all like THANK GOD they're overseas cheating on me because imagine how much worse it would be if they were like this but in my house.

on to season three!!!