#linda hemming

[glennmillerorchestra]

feel so accomplished finishing one out of the mountains of sewing projects i have to finish

[talaok]

The carpet

pairing: Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

Summary: You and your husband Pedro prepare for a red carpet, but once you're there you have a wardrobe malfunction, luckily, he's there to help.

Warnings: just so much fluff for no reason

a/n: i havent written something for Pedro that wasnt a request in literally 9 months, but guess what the hyperfixation is hyperfixating lately and I just needed to write down what i've been daydreaming about all day.

"wow" he exhaled, closing the door behind him, his eyes trained on you.

You chuckled, looking at him from the mirror, as a choked "aww" escaped Linda, your make-up artist's, lips at the reaction.

You gave her a look and she just grinned, checking her work one final time before whispering "Seeing you two is better than watching any rom-com, I can't even remember the last time my Mark looked at me like that", making you laugh once more with a playful roll of your eyes.

"you look stunning sweetheart" Pedro breathed, right behind you now, his hands already on your waist

Another dreamy sigh fell out of Linda's lips before she decided it was time for her to go.

"i'll go wait downstairs then... leave you two lovebirds some time alone," she said, excitement piercing through her tone as if she was watching her daughter walk down the aisle.

"thank you Linda, we'll be down in a moment" You nodded, smiling sincerely at her as she started for the door.

But just when a foot was already out into the hallway, she turned around, a serious expression on her all of a sudden.

"And Pedro" she shot him a look "Just this once, try not to mess her lipstick up too much, will ya?" 

You couldn't help but laugh, loudly, wholeheartedly, but Pedro, ever so honest only answered with a "I can't make any promises Linda", before the poor woman groaned and shut the door behind her.

Just as the soft thud of the motion bumped from wall to wall, Pedro turned you around in one swift motion, getting to see your pretty face better.

"hi there" you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, softly playing with the hem of his tuxedo's jacket.

"hello sugar" he grinned, letting his eyes drink in all of you.

"You look handsome" you murmured, your right hand going to his face, feeling the soft stubble of his beard graze your palm.

"mhhh" he hummed, leaning closer already, much to Linda's disappointment "Well you know how it is... if my lady's gonna be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet I gotta step up my game"

You huffed out a laugh 

"'s that right?"

"need to at least try and look like you're not miles out of my league" he cocked an eyebrow, his hands on your waist pushing you flush against him.

"You're a bad man Pedo Pascal" you stifled a smirk "A bad, bad man" you whispered as his lips finally met with yours.

They were softer than usual, but heavenly just the same. 

His hold tightened on you and you melted right into his arms, whimpering weakly into his mouth, before after what was probably a good two minutes, he pulled away.

"we gotta go" you murmured

"I know" he groaned, half-heartedly leaning away.

And as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, you couldn't help but chuckle, as your gaze fell to your lips.

"Oh Linda's gonna be pissed"

__ __ __

the carpet was booming tonight,

celebrities filled every inch of the crimson rug, and the flashes of the countless cameras pointed at you were so strong you swore they would have blinded you if you weren't so used to them.

You were posing to show off the gorgeous dress you were lucky enough to be wearing, and once you had exhausted all the poses you knew, you turned to your husband on the left as he offered you his hand, which you took with a smile, walking to his spot and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek the photographers seemed more than a little enthusiastic about.

But as you posed together, his arm on your back drawing soothing circles, an almost inaudible pop made its way to your ears, and all the sudden some pressure was gone from your chest, and when you looked down... when you looked down the button that was holding the two pieces of fabric covering your boobs had popped, and said fabric was starting to fall.

"oh my god" you blurted, but before you could do anything, your reflexes slowed down by the shock, Pedro's hand found your chest, salvaging the falling pieces of the dress.

"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to say, or do as he moved in front of you, his broad build doing a hell of a good job of shielding you from the photographers

"I was about to flash so many people" you finally breathed, your voice faint.

"yeah" he said, trying, really trying to suppress the chuckle down his throat, but failing miserably "Yeah you were sweetheart" he laughed softly, his hand still holding your dress.

"are you- don't laugh!" you gasped, although with one look at your face, you could feel a bubble of laughter making its way up your thoat "It's not funny" you smiled, chuckling too now.

"no" he shook his head, sarcasm spilling out of his every pore " there's nothing remotely funny about this sugar, absolutely" he smiled, making you want to roll your eyes

"hold the dress for a sec" he said, having you do just that as he took his jacket off and instead, put it on you.

"thank you" you smiled, looking up at him.

"you just worry about keeping that jacket closed" he murmured, kissing your cheek "I've already seen too many men's eyes wondering a bit too much"

"oh shut up" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he escorted you off what must have been the worst red carpet of your life.

"Whatever you say flash" he laughed, obviously very proud of his own joke

"god I hate you so much" you sighed, smiling widely into his chest nonetheless.

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

::Download:: (Patreon - Available for everyone from 25th June 2023)

Summer in the 60s - June 2023 CC Set

A fun, summery 60s-inspired set, perfect for your sims' upcoming vacations!

Item information below the cut:

Karolina Dress - Short-sleeved shift-dress in a variety of colours, styles and patterns.

Linda Dress - Sleeveless mini-dress with lace trim on the collar and hem.

Valerian Sweater - Short-sleeved summer sweater. Perfect for those 60s villains in your life, that love a high neck in all seasons.

Francie Hair - Sleek updo with a sharp, Sassoon-style bang.

Finella Hairs V1-V3 - Half-up hair with feathered, face-framing layers at three different heights depending on how tall you want to be on any given day!

Casey Hat - A traditional bakerboy hat in a variety of colours and combinations.

Pamela Earrings - Chunky bakelite earrings in a variety of colours and combinations.

Dionne Earrings - Metal and acrylic earrings in a variety of combinations.

Bullseye Earrings - Quintessential mod-style target earrings in a variety of colours, combinations and materials.

[taurussbabe]

would you right joao smut???

notes: yes, i would🫡 tw: smut wordcount: 0,6 k

The room was filled with the morning sunrays, a warm energy filling the room, illuminating your face as João played with your hair.

“I’ll make you breakfast” he got up but you pulled him down, sitting him down.

You chuckled, watching his face twitch in confusion, turning him around and sitting on his lap, rolling your hips. “I want another kind of breakfast”

“oh” his eyebrows visibly lift, a smile plastered on his face “we can definitely do that”

His hands playing with the hem of his your shirt, making a quick work of taking it off. His lips met with your boobs, watching as your head fell back, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“god, I’m damn lucky” his hands moves to your panties, removing them quickly, as you did with his boxers.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck as you sunk down on his dick, leaving wet kisses on the area, making him moan.

You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could think of was how big he felt inside of you, too big, you could fell him on your stomach, and he knew it, he knew it because in that exact moment he placed his hand on your stomach and groaned quietly. You leaned back to take a good look at his face and were met with his dilated pupils and swollen lips.

You didn’t get to look much because he pulled you closer and kissed you, roughly but with passion, to remind himself that you were real and you were his.

You rolled your hips forward, earning a gasp from both of you.

“oh, merda, do that again” he asked and you felt his hands on your hips guiding your movements.

He connected his lips with yours in a hot kiss, slightly sucking on your bottom lip, making you go insane. Your hands gripped his shoulder harder, leaving little marks of your nails, but right now, that wasn’t a concern for either of you.

You felt him turn you around, laying himself on top of you, his lips immediately on yours. He thrusted deep into you, his skin smashing against yours, you could feel everywhere, his hands roaming your body, leaving kisses along your jaw.

“shit, João, I’m –”

“I know, I’m there with you”

He connected his lips with yours and you felt his movements getting sloppier.

“fuck –” was the only thing you managed to say as you felt yourself come undone, João following you shortly after, collapsing on top of you.

You felt his hand on your cheek as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face

“tu és linda” you are beautiful he said in a low voice

“I have no idea what that means but right back at you” he threw his head back and chuckled while you enjoyed the view in front of you, you were so close to him you could see all of his little acne marks on the face, but somehow that just made him more attractive to you.

“I said you’re beautiful”

“oh-” you hid your face in your hands trying to hide the way you were blushing

He softly held your wrists and pulled them down “No, don’t, don’t hide”

“Well, for the record, you’re really pretty too, I love you”

“I love you too, baby” he pulled himself up, coming out of you with a soft groan, leaving you alone in bed.

He came back a few seconds later, bringing a little towel and cleaning you, pressing a soft kiss, causing you to let out a little whine, a smirk immediately plastered on his face.

“well, good morning I guess” he kissed your thigh

“good morning indeed” you pulled him, a hand on his hair, the other on his abs.

[usedtobecooler]

dropping monday 14/08…

this must be the place

eddie munson x steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: the summer of 1985 is only just beginning when a trip to scoops ahoy! unlocks some deeply hidden feelings you have swirling in your stomach for steve harrington. eddie munson won't let you live it down, and maybe that’s due to his own feelings too, but a chance encounter on a hot night at lovers lake sends you all down a rabbit hole you could never of prepared for.

content warnings: 18+ only minors dni, sexual content (threesome, piv sex, oral sex, dirty talk, van sex), porn with plot, eddie and reader are fwbs with feelings, gentle bullying and banter, eddie is canonically queer, mentions of past king!steve, brief homophobia mentions, a heartfelt conversation. feelings are felt on all three sides, if you don't like it look away <3 reader isn't explicitly described as alt/goth but it's implied.

sneak peek below the cut

You watch curiously as the Harrington charm working it’s magic right in front of your very eyes, Steve steps in close to Linda, brushes a loose curl back — Jesus Christ, why was that doing something for you — and says something you can’t make out, but it’s enough to have Linda blushing and pulling nervously on the hem of her denim shorts.

Why were you jealous?

The telltale noise of an obnoxiously loud horn beeping lets you — and probably the entire neighbourhood — know Eddie had arrived to pick you up, snapping you completely out of your daydream. Your lips curl up into a smirk when both Linda and Steve jump ten feet at the sound, Steve rolling his eyes and scoffing.

What a bitch.

Eddie catches you looking from your window and lets out an obnoxious laugh, grinning up at you with his annoyingly perfect teeth. You wanted to punch him, maybe, but Friday nights were for one thing and one thing only, and that was getting high at Lovers Lake in the flatbed of the van.

So it’d have to wait until you didn’t need him for the weed or the ride.

Summer meant the pretty sunset as a backdrop whilst you smoked the day's events away — it somehow made everything that little bit more relaxing, watching the swirls of orange, pink and purple melt together as your brain fogged with the drugs, a nice settling in your tummy as your high took over.

It was second only to the heavy September rain that you loved so much, you found yourself yearning for it all year around. The loud patter of the large droplets clinking on the tin roof of Eddie’s van, buried under a nest of blankets to keep the cool chill off your arms and legs. Eddie’s hot breath fanning over your neck as he kissed it, chest heavy against your back. Warm, solid and comforting.

Maybe you were in love with him, or maybe you weren’t. You didn’t want to think too much about that.

You glide out of the house as quietly as you can muster, not wanting to arouse suspicion about where you were going. Even in your twenties, your parents would still have a few choice words for you in regards to Eddie Munson, and you were in no mood for the lecture. You’d heard it too many times in the years you’d known him, since fifth grade when he pushed you in the playground and you pulled his hair in retaliation.

From that moment on you were inseparable, to the dismay of your parents.

You’re aware of two other sets of eyes watching you from across the street as you bounce down the driveway, all smiles as excitement thrums through your entire body. Eddie’s maybe looking at you like you hung the fucking moon or something, but that’s probably to do with the fact you’re wearing his shirt and looking the epitome of hot.

Okay, maybe you had a complex.

“So that’s where my shirt went,” Eddie hums, giving you an appreciative once-over as you wrench the passenger door open with a horrific sounding crunch of metal, “looks better on you, I’ve gotta say.”

You clamber into the van with a huff, laughter spilling into it, “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to woo me, Munson. We’re gonna fuck anyway, don’t worry.”

Eddie laughs loud and so fucking obnoxious, as if for somebody else’s entertainment, and it does catch the attention of the lovebirds on the other side of the road. You look over just as Steve catches your eyes, and suddenly your chest feels kind of heavy as he stares at you with a kind of intensity that you can’t put a finger on.

“Take a fuckin’ picture, Harrington,” Eddie cackles, head basically out the fucking window and he’s grinning at them both, snapping you completely out of it, “that’s as close as you’re getting to her, count your lucky stars.”

Eddie and Steve weren’t friends. In fact quite the opposite. Steve and Tommy were miserable assholes for years, made Eddie’s life hell at any given turn unless they needed him for drugs.

You think back, and truthfully the turning point was during Junior year. Steve had tripped Eddie in the hall, called him ‘queer’. Eddie didn’t stand for that, sucker punched Steve right in the jaw, hard enough that his skull hit the locker adjacent to him.

“That shit might hurt you when your daddy calls you it, but you’ve gotta do a lot worse than call me exactly what I am as an insult, Harrington.” Eddie had grinned, vicious and seething, as he watched Steve clutch desperately at his bruised jaw, wide eyed and hair askew from the force.

Steve never bothered Eddie again after that.

In fact, not long after, Steve never bothered anybody again. Maybe the knock to the head had quite literally knocked some sense into him, or something.

“You good?” Eddie’s voice, his large hand gripping your thigh knocks you back into reality, out of the daydream, and the grounding is enough to have your entire body melting into the simple touch.

[tainted-red]

Lingering - Patrick Hockstetter

Summary: Rumours that Patrick is stalking Y/n. Are they true?

TWS: Vouyerism, Masterbation, Stalking.

"Y/n" A short boy shouted at the older girl, Y/n froze in her tracks and turned to face the prepubescent boy. "I heard Hockstetter is stalking you! Be careful?" Eddie told the girl. She chuckled and responded with "Why is everyone so scared of him? I'll call the cops if it's ever concerning- plus I told you not to listen to rumours anymore Eddie" Y/n disclosed.

"I know-" Eddie tried to reason with Y/n. He wanted to warn her how dangerous Patrick could be. That one time he allegedly "took" Liah Carmen's dog for not letting him play under her skirt.

"Then let it go Eddie" Y/n cut off Eddie.

Eddie was about to speak again but his friend whom Y/n didn't like too much came around. "Hey, Bunny" Richie exclaimed, standing beside Eddie. Checking Y/n out.

"Hey Sweet-cheeks" Y/n teased.

Y/n and Eddie had no clue how they became close friends. Maybe it was because Eddie gave Y/n his sweater after Greta had slapped a jam sandwich on her shirt.

"Heard Cocksucker is stalking you... every night" Richie appealed,  Y/n groaned "Seriously? Have you heard that shit as well? How did that dumb rumour even start?" Y/n questioned.

"Well Linda told her mother she saw Patrick lurking around your house, So Linda's mother told your mom, your mom told the neighbours so maybe one of your neighbours has a big mouth" Eddie rambled, Playing with the hem of his shorts.

Y/n rolled her eyes "I don't think he even knows who I am. Anyways kids I got to go. See ya later" Y/n dismissed. Walking off, with an uncomfortable feeling lingering on her.

Were the rumours true or was just another one of Greta's friends being a shit-talker?

1

Y/n arrived home very late, Walking a couple of miles wasn't worth it. Just so she wouldn't get a couple of skepticalal looks.

She definitely felt a bit strange to hear people talking about Patrick like that. Creeping around her house. Apparently having a gun or something like that. It gave Y/n the chills. She thought she was an absolute nobody in this small town, now she plays a big role in a rumour.

Y/n decided a hot shower would relieve her from all this pressure and panic.

Stripping her clothes off her sticky and sweaty body that felt like it was overheating. Once she got her clothes all of she felt like she was freezing.

She grabbed a towel and placed it on her toilet. She then turned on the water for the shower.

2

Patrick was in-fact stalking Y/n, it was what he was doing right now.

Standing outside of her bedroom window. He was lucky she lived in a one-story house that wasn't very tall.

Every day she would take a shower, Walk into her room with only a towel on. Find an outfit then go back to the washroom to change. Patrick felt like it was the universe teasing him, waiting for him to make a move.

Y/n finished getting changed and walked into her room with only panties and a baggy shirt that covered most of her bottom.

Patrick felt his heart pound faster. The way the shirt would show off one of her soft-looking shoulders. She jumped into her bed, She never used the covers. but today she did.

Patrick could see her throw her underwear across the room, It was very dark in her room but Patrick could see her blanket faintly move around. Y/n gripped onto her sheets as she (Patrick assuming) played with herself.

Her mouth fell open. Patrick loved that. Her plump lips have moans and whimpers escape her mouth.

The blanket's movements now fastened. Patrick felt the blood go straight down to his dick. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down slightly, pulling his dick out of his pants.

Slowly pumping it, Seeing Y/n bite her bottom lip in pleasure. He stroked faster. He wanted them to climax at the same time. Although Y/n had a head start.

"Fuck Y/n" Patrick groaned, one hand on his shaft and the other attempting to pull his pants lower so it would be easier and quicker.

Y/n was clearly about to climax. One hand was now on her boob, squeezing it for more pleasure than she needed. Gosh Patrick wanted to be in both of her hands right now.

Patrick could picture Y/n underneath of him. Moaning and begging for more, His dick would fit perfectly.

Patrick saw Y/n's legs now shaking the blanket slightly, it was obvious she was about to finish. Patrick gripped onto his dick harder and stroked even faster than before.

The only time he ever felt this amount of excitement is when he was at his fridge in the middle of the woods. With a lifeless animal in his hand. Or when he "innocently" killed his little bother, Avery.

If Y/n could make him feel this excited could she really exist and not be a figment of his imagination?

Patrick felt his balls tighten, His legs and arms shiver and go numb as he came. Directly on Y/n's house, outside of her room.

If this wasn't a giveaway, Patrick didn't know what was.

He felt his crotch and spine tingle then go slightly numb. He loved whenever that happened just from a little bit of release.

Y/n was now sitting up, putting back on the underwear and wandering off to the washroom. She probably to go clean herself up

Patrick smirked. With all the rumours and gossip about Patrick stalking her, wouldn't she at least close the blinds? Yet she still left them wide open.

Even when she decided to have a fun time.

Patrick pulled up his pants and wiped his hand on his thigh. Buttoning his pants and smiling when he saw Y/n come back with a glass of water.

Sweat shimmered on her body. She looks beautiful.

Y/n sipped on the water and placed it on her bed stand. Getting back into bed with a smile. Patrick swore she looked directly at him, but maybe he was just wishing she did.

3

Patrick decided today he was going to ask Y/n out. He built up enough courage and confidence from seeing Y/n do something so secretive.

Patrick saw Y/n exit school and go to her younger friends. They seemed to be the only ones that didn't care that Patrick was stalking her. Patrick hated those fucking kids. But put on a nice act.

Approaching the group like a creep, "Hey Eddie. It's been a while, huh?" Patrick taunted, wrapping an arm around the squirming boy.

"Y-yeah" Was all Eddie let out. The biggest hypochondriac being touched by a guy who was speculated to have more diseases than hairs on his head.

Patrick let go of Eddie and turned his attention to Y/n "Hey Y/n. Heard the rumours." Patrick joked, letting out a deep chuckle.

Y/n blushed and started fidgeting with the hem of her skirt "Yeah, I- I have" Y/n stuttered. Patrick usually had that effect on people. intimidating them so much that the person he was talking to stuttered.

He adored it when Y/n did. Her voice was so soft and airy. She had the voice of a kitten, an angel didn't even speak but if it did it would sound like Y/n.

"Sucks. Hope that didn't scare you away" Patrick asked theoretically. Leaning down on his knees so he could be face-to-face with her.

"N-no of course not"  Y/n giggled. Patrick felt the blood rush down to his dick. He's gonna have to ask quickly or else someone will notice and ruin his chance.

"Good. I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie or maybe go for a drive with me and my friends" Patrick wondered. Anticipating for a response.

Y/n's eyes opened wide, quickly looking away from Patrick's stare. She felt like she was about to explode in embarrassment for no reason.

"Yeah, sure. A ride sounds fun- not like that- I meant with your friends as well... Like in a car," Y/n stammered on her words, trying to save herself from her dirty-sounding remark.

It got worse each time she added more words to her sentence. Patrick chuckled at this, and so did Richie.

"Great. Sounds like a date? I'll pick you up tonight" Patrick preached, standing back up straight "Do you need my address or my phone number?" Y/n asked softly. Doe eyes batting at him.

He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth "I think I can manage" Patrick said slyly with a light chuckle.

[apoemaday]

Spring

by Linda Pastan

Just as we lose hope she ambles in, a late guest dragging her hem of wildflowers, her torn veil of mist, of light rain, blowing her dandelion breath in our ears; and we forgive her, turning from chilly winter ways, we throw off our faithful sweaters and open our arms.

[jimmypesto]

in honor of boblin week being two weeks away, I wrote this little oneshot about them! ❤️ this one’s rated mature so read at your own risk, and don’t forget to participate in boblin week may 27th-31st :)

As she dashes by Bob to get to the register, the hem of Linda’s dress brushes his thigh.

“Oops! Sorry.” She says.

Bob only grunts in response. Today has been one problem after another, between burning the toast at breakfast and a cluster headache that started at noon.

Linda, as usual, is immune to his foul moods. She’s been singing all morning, so now Bob has a made up tune about lettuce in his head. Seconds after her dress hits him, his brain catches up with the oddity.

“Wait. Lin.”

Stopping on his way to the kitchen, he turns to the register where she’s standing.

“Do you have plans today? You only wear dresses when you’re going out.”

Even then, Linda’s usual dresses don’t look like this one. They’re typically tight, accentuating her hips in a way that occasionally gets her free drinks. Today, the one she’s got on is light purple and flowy. It looks much comfier than the normal attire, granting room for her body to breathe.

It’s also short. Very short. If Bob was just her boss, and not also her husband, he’d probably have her change on the grounds that the dress isn’t workplace appropriate. As it stands, however, the risk of her flashing a glimpse of skin is too exciting a prospect to pass up.

“This old thing?” Linda asks. “It’s basically the only piece of clean clothing that still fits me! Everything good’s in the laundry. Blech.”

Bob nods. If he’d woken up on the right side of the bed this morning, it’s very possible that this would be of more interest to him. Today, he’s too grumpy to fully appreciate the way the fabric of Linda’s dress stops above her mid-thigh.

“I’m washing your lazy pants, too.” She adds. “And my good nightgown, so we’ll both be nice and cozy tonight!”

She leans over the counter, cheek resting in the palm of one hand, and smiles to herself about the comfy evening ahead of them. The pose is so typical for late afternoons in the restaurant that it almost goes unnoticed by Bob.

Almost. Most days, when Linda leans on the counter and sighs with boredom, her ass only serves as a minor distraction. It looks nice in jeans, great even, but she wears them so frequently that Bob’s become accustomed to it.

“Oh my God. Lin.” He says now, pure astonishment winning out over his bad mood.

Still bent forward, Linda only turns her head slightly. She’s reached a point in the day where a countdown begins in her head: one hour til the kids get home, three before dinner, and five before she finally gets to rest her eyes.

“Hm? What is it, Bobby?” She asks, exhausted.

He stares at her ass, surprised by just how much skin her dress is showing at this angle.

“Are you wearing a thong?” He wonders.

This makes Linda laugh. The sound is airy and exhausted, like she’s long since forgotten putting on anything sexy.

“I am, aren’t I?” She says wryly. “Yeah. Like I told you, Bob! Laundry day. All my regular underwear’s in the wash.”

All of Bob’s previous worries disappear, whizzing suddenly from his memory as though they never existed in the first place.

“Laundry day, right.”

He steps forward slightly, ready to grope her exposed skin. Something stops him at the last second, his heels falling back to the same place they started.

“Yup.” Linda says, words wrapped around a yawn. “You’d think more customers’d be comin’ on such a nice day! It’s all bright and sunny out.”

Bob just blinks. As the subject of her ass soars past him, he stands paralyzed staring at it. Somehow, eighteen years into marriage, Linda’s managing to fluster him without even trying.

“Bobby?” She asks, when a few seconds pass with no response. “I said it’s nice out, don’t you think? I’m surprised there aren’t more people around.”

Concerned by his silence, she stands up straight and turns to face him. With her dress hanging modestly again, Bob is able to produce a coherent sentence.

“Oh. The weather, yeah. It is nice. Uh…you know what else is nice?”

Slipping a hand beneath her dress, he gives her ass a squeeze. Linda laughs, finally catching on to the effect she’s having.

“Oh boy. Is that what’s got you all tongue-tied? It’s just underwear, Bobby!”

He squeezes again, a little in awe every time he touches her. Maybe he takes Linda for granted sometimes. Not about the big stuff, like parenting or being his business partner, but he’s been feeling sorry for himself all day and forgetting that the oldest pick-me-up in the book is right here at his fingertips.

“It’s not just underwear.” He argues, his thumb rubbing a circle on her ass. “It’s really…nice. Your ass looks like a big, juicy…sorry. I don’t know where I was going with that.”

As always, whatever charm he has crumbles in the face of Linda and her effortless hotness.

She crosses her arms, resting her back against the counter, and pokes a finger at Bob’s chest. The simple gesture flusters him enough that he draws his hand back.

“You feelin’ alright, Bobby?” She teases. “You’re lookin’ a little flushed there.”

When she points out the blush creeping up his neck, it only makes Bob go redder. He feels like he’s back in high school, hitting on a pretty cheerleader and getting rejected. Not that he ever actually did that, but it did cross his mind once or twice.

“I’m feeling good.” He says, injecting false confidence into his voice. “I’m so good. You think we should take a late lunch break? Close the restaurant for a while?”

As he speaks, he leans his face toward hers. Then, in a stroke of terrible timing, the bell above the entrance rings suddenly throughout the room. Bob startles.

Linda smirks, leaning in for a split second before ducking out of his way. Sidestepping him, she shrugs and walks backward in the direction of their customers.

“Welcome in!” She calls out, not breaking eye contact with Bob.

Then, in a whisper meant just for him, she tosses out one last teasing remark.

“Think I should pretend to drop my pen and bend over? Might get a big tip out of it.”

Bob’s mind goes completely blank. By the time he’s processed what Linda just said, she’s already halfway toward the group of men who have just come in.

Shooting one last smile at Bob, she flashes him a wink that says their conversation isn’t over yet.

[crowtrobotx]

Happy Father's Day only to Karl Heisenberg. I wrote a little oc x canon ficlet this morning to deal with some ~feelings~ and I thought maybe someone might also enjoy it. This can be considered a Check Engine-AU-AU, lol, otherwise known as "Mechanic!Karl no Village." Word Count: 2166 Warnings: Nothing significant but if the subject of pregnancy isn't your thing you probably won't have a good time. ~~~~~~~~ Come on. Where are you, jackass? Kris’s fingers fidgeted nervously with a loose thread at the hem of her dress, eyes laser focused on the empty driveway from her perch on the living room couch. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck beneath the wild tangle of curls in spite of the air conditioning, cranked a rebellious one degree lower than normal out of desperation. She winced. That singular digit might have been the only thing that was preventing her from hurling onto the freshly cleaned hardwood floor.

It was a deceptively lovely summer day outside, the only hint of how truly unpleasant the weather was buried somewhere in the incessant screaming of the cicadas crawling all over the trees that enveloped their property. The heat waves radiating from the asphalt made her feel lightheaded just looking at it - how Karl worked in that stuffy garage all day, in those frustratingly attractive coveralls, without passing out was a mystery to her even after all these years. Maybe he finally did die of heatstroke. Would explain why he’s late, today of all days. Her stomach churned miserably.

She knew she was taking this all far too seriously. It didn’t have to be perfect - she could just tell him outright, like a sane person, but unfortunately she’d gone on Pinterest one too many times over the last couple of days in an attempt to quell her bubbling anxiety and it had all gone to shit from there.

Maybe it was how unexpectedly long it had taken. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d finally convinced herself it wasn’t actually a dream, that it was really happening and she wasn’t going to wake up in a cold sweat. Regardless, she’d put a silly amount of effort into this already - and spent her coffee money at the dollar store - so dammit, it had to turn out cute at the very least. She smoothed out the black linen fabric over her belly, hand lingering a moment longer than normal.

The glint of a windshield from the road had her sitting up like an excited dog. Sturm, snoring away on his well-chewed pet bed to her side, didn’t react at all. She’d been faked out by a school bus once already, but the harsh rattle of the perpetually fucked muffler on Karl’s impossibly old pick-up was, for once, like music to her ears. The truck rolled into view, prompting Kris to shakily rise to her feet and make for the kitchen.

“Okay,” she exhaled slowly, trying to steady the flutter in her chest. “It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s going to be fine.”

The outfit: adorable. The setup: in place. The lines she’d rehearsed in the lukewarm bath this morning until she’d gone hoarse: memorized. She could not fuck this up - if she did, she might simply melt into a puddle with all that remained of her being a pair of cartoon blinking eyes.

Get your shit together. These things never go as planned. He’s going to know something is up because you’ve been home alone all day and you did your hair and makeup instead of embracing the slug girl aesthetic, anyway.

Kris grimaced at her own inner voice, ceding that perhaps it was correct. She awkwardly milled about the room: leaning on the counter, deciding it looked too suspicious, picking up a knife, deciding it looked too insane. Footfalls growing louder toward the side door had her panicked and she at last decided to busy herself washing out an already cleaned coffee mug over the sink.

You can do this. What did Linda call you last time you were in office? A boss bitch? Lull him into a false sense of security. Pretend like you’re a respectable housewife and not a foul-mouthed nasty bitch someone was stupid enough to marry.

The screen door banged open, its rusty hinges surviving yet another assault from her careless husband’s grip. The man himself finally appeared, his outgrown beard and wiry silver waves a total mess from the heat and his work. Still, he didn’t seem agitated - a good sign. Otherwise Kris would have put off her little plan until later, unwilling to take unnecessary risks with something so precious. This would be her Instagram-worthy moment, dammit.

“Honey,” Karl’s loud croon shattered the peaceful silence that had reigned all day, “I’m home!”

God, he was revolting. Kris couldn’t help but to set the cup down and nearly dash to his waiting arms. He caught her in a near crushing bear hug, looking quite pleased with her reaction. She saved the ooey-gooey greetings for special occasions - she couldn’t let the man get even cockier, after all, and she had a reputation to uphold.

“You’re sweaty,” she observed, head finding purchase on his chest all the same, finding comfort in the familiar. “And you stink.”

“Sure do,” he said with a little too much pride. He ran a hand - probably grease-covered, by the looks of it; thank God I’m wearing black - down her back and hummed thoughtfully. “But you, on the other hand, look cute as a button. What’s the occasion? Did I do something nice and not remember?”

Kris untangled herself from his grasp, trying her best to look disinterested and unaffected. With a wave of her hand she returned to the kitchen sink, this time feigning interest in putting away the dishes, and cast a lidded look at him over her shoulder. She hoped her concealer was hiding her heat in her cheeks and making her act more believable. “It’s hot and I got bored,” she lied. Why do I feel like dragging his smelly ass to the floor with me right now?

Karl’s toolbelt hit the linoleum with a loud clang. In a couple of confident strides he was at her back, hands shamelessly trying to find purchase at her hips again. “Aww, did my girl get lonely without me? I can fix that for you, y’know… I don’t mind.” His fuzzy jaw nuzzled into her neck, the edges of his lips curling into a smarmy grin.

Of course - if one thing was going to ruin this, it would be the thing that had caused the situation to begin with: Karl’s dick.

Kris thwacked him playfully on the thigh with the nearest tea towel and rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the traitorous warmth pooling deep in her abdomen. “You know the rules. Not until you’re not going to stain my poor clothes with all those oil splotches. Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically. She’d known him long enough to recognize false exasperation - he didn’t like messing up her pretty outfits, either. Karl turned to make his way to the bedroom when Kris caught his arm, putting on her best surprised face and tone.

“Oh! I almost forgot, can you help me out really quick? There’s something that needs to come out of the oven and I’ve got to finish this.”

“It’s ten steps away, doll- OUCH! You and that damn towel. Yeah, sure. One sec.”

Kris held her breath as he stomped across the room, rubbing his leg where she’d nailed him yet again. This was it. Her picture perfect moment. Even Sturm had managed to lift his greying head to peer curiously from the living room.

Karl opened the range. The singular honey bun sitting on the pain looked comically out of place, but that was the point - there was absolutely no way he could ignore it. Kris nearly shattered the dish in her hands, so tight did her fraying nerves make her grip.

“Oh, sweet,” Karl said, before picking the pastry up and taking a bite. “I was starvin’ after all those tire rotations today. Thanks!”

He resumed his trek upstairs, whistling contentedly. Sturm stared at her with a look that conveyed a sort of pity before resuming his daily 18 hours of beauty rest. Even the shriek of insects outside seemed to have dulled to a quiet hum out of respect for whatever remained of Kris’s dignity. She wordlessly placed the plate onto the counter, a mixture of resignation, rage, and outright bewilderment swirling in her chest.

He did not just do that. You hallucinated it in a hormonal fugue. There’s no way.

She had accounted for what she thought was every likely outcome. Unbridled excitement, tears, perhaps disbelief. Even that he would be angry - not truly angry, of course, but it was the emotion he defaulted to whenever he wasn’t sure how to handle whatever feelings were rushing through him, however positive.

She had not, however, considered the possibility that he was more stupid than the bag of hammers hanging above his workbench.

“Karl,” she croaked out just as he reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

He paused and peeked his head around to face her, crumbs somehow already decorating his beard. “What?”

Kris flexed her fingers and inhaled slowly to steady her voice. “Could you come here again please?”

When Karl returned to the kitchen, it took everything in her not to throat-punch him. He was simultaneously the smartest and dumbest man she had ever met - in spite of his horrific personality, everyone in town came to him for their mechanical needs because absolutely no one knew their way around an engine like he did. And yet here she was, trying to convey an extremely obvious plot twist to absolutely no avail while he stuffed his face.

“Can you tell me what you’re holding?” she asked, the strain in her tone causing her voice to sound unnaturally high.

Karl swallowed. He rotated the bread, eyeing it somewhat nervously as if he feared it might now explode. “It’s… a roll?”

“Well… some might say a bun.” Kris was getting desperate. Her new favorite hobby of vomiting was feeling like more and more of a possibility with every passing second. At least it would get her out of this situation.

“A bun,” Karl repeated.

She waited for him to do the math before giving in to his helpless, slightly annoyed look.

“Yes. A bun. From the oven.”

“That’s usually where they come from, babe. Did you hit that pretty little head of yours while I was at work today or what?”

Another silence. Kris swore to herself that she was going to throw this man through the second floor window.

“You found the bun…” Kris gestured, indicating that she intended him to finish her sentence.

“In the oven,” they both said at once. For a brief, tantalizing moment, Kris thought it had finally worked. She had been fully prepared to snatch the little wrapped test hidden in the utensils drawer and gift it to him in a sickeningly sweet gesture worthy of a Hallmark movie, until she noticed the completely clueless look on his face hadn’t yet retreated.

Are you fucking-

“Was it not for me?” Karl ventured at last. “Uh, s-sorry. Guess I shoulda asked. I can get you another one at the corner mart on my way home tomorrow if you want.”

“I do not want a gas station dessert, thankyouverymuch,” Kris hissed. The thought of what Karl-tier food might do to her already compromised digestive system sent a shiver down her spine. “I am trying to- you know what, never mind. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Ohhhhh,” Karl suddenly cooed, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in to peck the tip of her nose. “Wait. I get it now.”

Cautious relief relaxed Kris’s shoulders. She batted her lashes at him and made a soft questioning sound, feigning innocence.

“You want a new oven. Why didn’t you say so? I got enough parts in that shed out back to make you ten if you want. Anything for my gal!” Karl’s grin was begging to be slapped right off his stupid, handsome face.

Instead, and with all the strength she had in reserve, Kris simply shut her eyes and lightly patted her husband’s chest. We’re going to call this a practice run. That’s all. “A new oven would be lovely. You’re the best, Heisy-bear.”

Karl winked before happily popping the rest of the bun in his mouth and reclaiming his usual air of off-putting flirtatiousness. 

“You know it is kinda weird that you just made one,” he spat around the mouthful as he patted her cheek. “But I know you don’t like summers, pumpkin. Fries your brain and makes you do weird shit. ‘S okay, I still love you”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Kris waited until he was out of sight before allowing herself a brief, silent scream into her palms. Sturm hobbled into the kitchen at last, his three paws tapping rhythmically as he presented her one of his well-loved chew toys as a kind of consolation prize. She sighed, and at last allowed herself a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Thanks, boy,” she whispered, bending to scratch the dog’s velvety ears. “Well, time for plan B, I suppose. Do you know where I can buy a mini toolkit?”

[thebugthatruinsyourpicnic]

lijst van starkid/tcb karakters die ik denk dat de mol zouden kunnen zijn

Owen Carvour (duh)

MISS HOLLOWAY

Xander Lee

Wilbur Cross

Joe Walker Voldemort maar hij zou er wel fucking slecht in zijn

Esther Backpack-Blueglasses

The Old Snatch

Junior Spaceclaw (zou er ook fucking slecht in zijn)

Taz zou de mol niet zijn maar ze zou fucking winnen

Sweet Tooth

Alfred

Bug (hij is al een insect die zich verstopt onder de mensen HALLO)

Ja'far

Aladdin maar alleen de 'in your reflection' kant

Slippery When Wet Dikrats

Cornwallis

General Store Guy

McDoon (Cletus Jones zou in dit geval de eerste afvaller zijn)

Titty Mitty zou finalist zijn

Van Ani weet ik oprecht niet of er een de mol zou zijn

Ghosts of Christmas Present en Future

Emily Cratchit

Infected Charlotte

Zoey

Sherman Young

Linda Monroe

Pokotho

Bliklotep

T'Noy Karaxis

Nibblenephim

Wiggog Y'Wrath (ik heb van alle LiB geen idee hoe goed ze zouden zij maar oke)

Webby

Sylvia (van Forever and Always)

Alice Woodward?

Hidgens, hij zou zo fucking dramatisch doen dar niemand hem verdenkt omdat hij zo obvious is

Emdroid

Paul 23

Peter Spankoffski (Ruth en Richie zouden NIET ver komen, Steph zou als laatste/een-na-laatste afvallen)

Solomon Lauter

Sheila Young

Roman Murray

Rose

Ezekiel

KUT IK WAS CYNTHIA HOUSTON VERGETEN

Sergio Santos

Tatiana Slozhno (zou alle widmblr gays verblinden, we zouden haar zo niet verdenken)

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

::Download:: (Patreon - Early Access -Available for everyone from 26th Nov 22)

I was on a work trip and spent a lot of it in my hotel room, on Pinterest and a 70s themed set seemed like a very good idea. Doing the previews like a dodgy 70s catalogue seemed like a bad idea, but I did it anyway.

Carly Dress - Knitted mini-dress with striped collar, sleeve and hem detail

Linda Blouse - Button-down blouse with voluminous split sleeves

Joni Sweater -Fitted rollneck swearer in a rib knit

Diana Skirt - Suede Skirt with cutout pattern at the hem

Felicity Flares - Flared, high waisted trousers

Carole Boots - Heeled platform boots with a cursed 70s gummy sole

Deirdre Glasses - Large glasses with a subtly tinted lense

Jaclyn Scarf - Silk neck scarf tied to the side

Kate Necklace - Bakelite beaded necklace with beads in graduating sizes

Iris Earrings - Bakelite rainbow earrings

Barbra Earrings - Gold drop earrings with a tassel trim

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

Halloween

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Request: the wayne famuly dressing up for  halloween agianst their will beecaeuse grace said so ? headcono s? sorry for the typos my phone isnt cooopperating

Warnings: vague spoilers for the film, mentions of injury

Word Count: 1158

A/N: Happy Halloween! I actually received this request months ago, not long after I finished writing convenience, but I wanted to save it for today because I knew I probably wouldn’t have time for a full Halloween celebration this year. There’s not much to this, it’s just a fun bonus chapter for a change. I actually did flip a coin for the costumes because I couldn’t choose! Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Ko-Fi

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

“Do we have to dress up?” Bruce asked, dropping down onto the sofa next to Y/N.

“You don’t want us going out trick or treating, and I can respect that with how Halloween always is in the city, but that means we have to do something at home. And even Alfred agreed to dress up if he could pick his own costume!” She shifted into his side as he opened an arm for her and angled her laptop towards him on her knees. “Which means we have to pick something.”

He sighed and pressed his lips against her temple. “What’s everyone else picked?” He raised his eyebrows as she smiled. “What?”

“Alfred is going as Dracula. I showed Grace a page of costumes and she pointed at the pumpkin dress, which I think was mainly due to the bright colour, you know because she’s two, and Dick has decided he wants to go as Batman.” She tilted her head back against his shoulder so she could watch his reaction. She was not disappointed, his lips parted and his cheeks went pink.

“Why Batman?” He said, barely above a whisper.

“Because, he’s a hero and he saves people.” She directly quoted from Dick.

“Oh.” He buried his face in her hair as his cheeks went an even darker shade of pink. “They actually sell Batman costumes? Or are you planning on building him one?”

She snorted. “I ordered him one so he can also wear it to school. Could you imagine the questions we’d get if I sent him in a completely accurate replica?”

“Yeah, that might not be the best idea.” He laughed. “So, what are our options?”

“Ash and Linda from Evil Dead, Money Heist red jumpsuits and Dali masks, Gomez and Morticia Addams, or Buttercup and Wesley from The Princess Bride.” She flicked through the tabs she had open on her laptop.

“Flip a coin?” He suggested. “Evil Dead vs Money Heist, Addams vs Princess Bride, and then flip for the winners?”

“Sounds good.”

***

“Pretty!” Grace squealed, and Y/N was unsure if she was referring to herself or to Y/N.

She chose to go with the former as she swept Grace into her arms. “Yes you are.”

Grace giggled and wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck. Y/N smiled and smoothed out Grace’s pumpkin dress before straightening her headband.

“Shall we go see everyone else?”

Grace nodded enthusiastically and Y/N smiled before walking out of her and Bruce’s room. She balanced Grace on her hip and used her other hand to lift the hem of her red dress far enough off the floor so she would not trip over it while walking down the stairs.

Dick was doing a one handed hand-stand at the bottom of the stairs, his costume cape hanging around his head. “See I told you I could do it!”

“Consider me proved wrong.” Bruce said with a smile.

Y/N put Grace down as Dick flipped himself back the right way up. The Batman costume she had found was a pretty good fabric imitation, but she could point out several inaccuracies with it (not that she would ever say that out loud). Bruce’s costume was pretty accurate; black trousers, boots and shirt. It had come with a mask, but they had both decided it was probably best if he did not wear it, just in case someone got hold of the photos further down the line and drew the similarities between him and Batman.

“Black is your colour.” She said with a smile as he walked over to her.

“Red’s yours.” He said, glancing down to take in her dress.

She ran her hands over his shoulder. “Though next time, I think you should also dye your hair blond and grow a tiny moustache.”

“As you wish.” He nodded his head slightly in an imitation of Wesley and her smile grew wider.

“I don’t think the kids have any idea who we are.” She glanced back to where Grace was giggling as Dick did a cartwheel.

“I think the film is age appropriate for Dick, maybe not Grace. I’m not sure she’d like the blood.” Bruce smiled.

Y/N hummed. “You’re probably right.”

“So what’s the plan?” He asked, glancing at the minimal decorations her and Alfred had put up (the penthouse was already gothic enough without them).

“Alfred’s making bat and pumpkin cookies, we’re going to help the kids carve pumpkins, and then we’re going to watch kid appropriate Halloween films.” She told him before dropping her voice. “When are you planning on going out tonight?”

“I’ll head out after the kids go to bed. GCPD should be able to deal without me until then.” He said.

She hated that her mind flashed to the Mayor’s murder and everything that followed. It had been three years since everything with the Riddler had happened, but the city was still feeling the effects of the aftermath. Some of it had been good; everyday crime levels had dropped slightly and the last two Halloweens had been much calmer. But Falcone’s successors were starting to fill the power vacuum and reinstate most of his businesses.

“Hey.” Bruce said softly, reaching out and pulling her hand away from where it had been tracing the scar on her collarbone; she had been so far in her own thoughts that she had not noticed she was doing it.

She swallowed down the memories. “Be careful tonight.”

“I will be, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Cookies are in the oven.” Alfred said as he walked in form the kitchen. The look he gave them told them he was also thinking about three years prior.

“You make a good vampire.” Y/N smiled.

Alfred had slicked back his hair and dribbled fake blood down his chin and over one of his older white shirts. But the best part was the cape he was wearing; Y/N recognised it easily as one of the first ones she had made for Bruce, before she integrated the flight suit. From the frown on his face, she was pretty sure Bruce had recognised it as well.

“Thank you. And I must say you and Bruce make a good Wesley and Buttercup, but maybe not as much as Dick makes a good Batman and Grace makes a pumpkin.” Alfred smiled at the kids and scooped Grace up into his arms, balancing her on his good hip.

Dick gave a typical strongman pose as Grace giggled.

“Right, everyone into the drawing room, I want a family portrait!” Y/N announced.

Alfred carried Grace in as Dick started up again with the cartwheels. But Bruce caught Y/N’s arm before she could follow.

“I love you.” He said, cupping her jaw to get her to look at him.

She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

Taglist: In the reblogs

[anonymouspuzzler]

various miscellaneous Psychonauts doodles! some sona stuff, some stream doodles, Oleander is still there he never leaves

(alt text/image IDs under cut!)

[Image 1-2 ID: A sketch, then lineart, of the entire cast of Psychonauts 2 in a massive crowd, all holding various drinks or otherwise acting celebratory of the game's lauch. Raz is up top with a big grin, Lilli hanging off of him in a hug and Ford emerging from his ear, holding a big cake with sparklers and a "2!" candle.]

[Image 3 ID: A sleep-levitating Queepie, lifting up an entire car like it's nothing. In the background, Donatella looks on, visibly exhausted.]

[Image 4 ID: A sketch of Nona from behind, waving jauntily and walking up to a delighted Linda the Lungfish, who is waving back.]

[Image 5 ID: An Enabler caught up in a massive bright-blue explosion, upside-down in a t-pose, eyes wide, hat flying off above them.]

[Image 6 ID: A sketch of Puzz in the Psychonauts style. She has light mint-green skin with a tiny, round pink nose, uneven eyes with three lashes, tiny round brows, and curly blue hair in a bun with a single long cowlick, a pink pen and #2 pencil stuck into the bun. She is wearing pink half-frame glasses with a chain, a cream t-shirt with pink peter pan collar and sleeve hems, tiny black heeled boots, and overalls colored and patterned like the Psychonauts jumpsuit uniform. She is waving with her left hand and holding a tablet in her right.]

[Image 7 ID: A drawing of Puzz's sona and Oleander standing side by side, staring at each other. Two arrows provide a height comparison; the top of Puzz's head is about at Oleander's eyeline.]

[Image 8 ID: A two-panel comic of Oleander and Boyd. In the first, Oleander is holding up a swinging watch to hypnotize Boyd, who is standing in his pajamas with worried, swirling hypnosis eyes. Oleander, looking gruff, says, "you know, like nya"?", to which Boyd replies simply, "huh". In the second panel, it cuts closer to Oleander, who holds up a hand in a kitty-paw and clarifies, "nya". Offscreen, Boyd replies, "please god help me".]

[Image 9 ID: Three greyscale drawings of Oleander labeled "HOW TO TALK TO SHORT PEOPLE". The first drawing, labeled "YES!" with a little green checkmark, shows Milla standing normally with one hand on her hip, looking slightly down to talk to Oleander, who is gesturing with one pointer finger. The second, labeled "NO!!" with a red X shows Sasha kneeling down on one knee, holding a stack of papers in one hand as he talks to Oleander, who is visibly clenching his fists and teeth, imagining a knife. The third, labeled "WHY?! with various yellow question marks surrounding it, shows a grinning Loboto holding Oleander up with his hands under his armpits to speak with him, causing a flustered Oleander to stare back in confusion.]

[Image 10 ID: An older Raz posing with his back facing the camera, grinning as he looks over his shoulder at his new jacket. The jacket has a detailed, multi-layered design in the center of the back resembling a cloudy, mountainous landscape, with several stars surrounding the "frame" of the design. He is also wearing a tied fabric sash-slash-skirt with a raindrop design over patched-up pants and small heeled shoes, as well as his trademark and gloves. He has pigmented circles around his eyes like Augustus, more pronounced cheekbones like Nona, and a small, scruffy goatee. In the background, Helmut and Nona, surrounded by sewing supplies, are pumping their fists and high-fiving.]

[Image 11 ID: Older designs for the campers, including, from left to right, Phoebe, Quentin, Crystal, Clem, Bobby, and Chloe. Phoebe has grown up tall and has a short, natural haircut, still wearing her headphones. She is wearing extremely early 2000s fashion, namely a jacket over a short, spaghetti-strapped tank top, multiple necklaces and bracelets, a belly button piercing, low-rise flared pants, and chunky open-toed heels. She is holding her drumsticks in one hand and has a cigarette in the other. Quentin is short and stout, with shoulder-length wavy hair and a scraggly beard. He is wearing a knit beanie, a striped scarf, a long coat over a plain t-shirt, jeans with tears in the left knee, and converse sneakers. He is carrying a vinyl record sleeve under one arm. Crystal is short and plump, wearing a Whispering Rock t-shirt and tight shorts, heart-shaped earrings, and rollerblading protective gear (fingerless gloves, elbow guards and knee guards). She is posing with one leg up and making a V-sign with her left hand. Clem is also wearing a Whispering Rock tee, as well as plaid shorts, a fanny pack, sneakers and a sweatband. He has a fluffy mullet and scraggly goatee, is holding a whistle, and has one small earring. Bobby is gangly with a thin mustache and goatee, wearing an open work shirt over an AC/DC tee, with long work pants that do not cover his ankles and sneakers. He is sitting on a log smoking a cigarette and glaring at nothing in particular. Far behind him in the background is Phoebe, seen as nothing but a silhouette with glowing eyes.]

[Image 12 ID: A blue ink doodle featuring an older Raz design by Cosmignon. He has thick, wild, curly hair held back by goggles, large dark sideburns and a goatee, and is wearing a Psychonauts uniform sweater with a trench coat over it, as well as his usual gloves. He is giving a thumbs up and posing with his arms around a slightly older, smiling Milla, wearing a flowy poncho and several bracelets, waving with her left hand while her right rests on her chest. In front of them both is Oleander, wearing no helmet but his usual shirt and broach, winking and drinking out of a "#1 STEPDAD" mug while giving a thumbs up with his other hand. An arrow pointing to the three of them reads "up since 5 AM jogging & doing yoga". In the background off to the side is an older Lilli design, also by Cosmignon, built widely and with an undercut and long bangs; she is wearing a big T-shirt and boxer shorts and holding a coffee mug, looking grouchy and confused. To her right is Sasha, looking frazzled and half-asleep, wearing a robe and smoking a cigarette; behind her to her left is Loboto, in a sleep mask, t-shirt and flannel pants, still visibly asleep and only being held up by a telekinesis hand holding him by the scruff of his shirt. An arrow pointing to the three of them reads "Extremely Not That".]

[putnamcapital]

s3 ep6.3b

[okay i'm just going to write it, aren't i, so that i can stop chasing sentences on the ceiling in the middle of the night]

Simon comes into the dining room, with Wille trailing a half step behind him. They both look very sleepy and bewildered. Everyone stops talking and stares the moment they enter the room.

“What?!” Simon exclaims.

“Simon, your hair!” Sara blurts out.

Simon rolls his eyes, “And good morning to you too, beautiful.”

Sara blunders on, “But we don’t get dressed up for meals here, Wille!” Linda glances somewhat nervously over at Felice.

Wille shrugs awkwardly and looks down at his clothes. He mumbles, “I … I didn’t have anything else to wear.” He pulls at the hem of his dress shirt, now very rumpled over his school uniform trousers. He glances over at Linda, “My mother would murder me if she knew I showed up as a guest at the dining room table in pajamas. It was this or … um … Simon’s pajamas.”

Sara giggles. Simon looks between Sara and his mother, as though trying to understand what is going on. Wille edges closer to Simon, and Linda watches his face getting redder slowly. Finally Linda can bear the awkwardness no longer.

She jumps up from her chair and crosses over to the boys. “Good morning,” she says, her voice full of sunshine. She reaches first for Wille and pulls him into a warm hug, and Wille is so startled by the embrace he reaches at once for Simon’s hand. For a split second, Simon’s entire field of vision is filled with only Wille and Mama, and he catches the moment of peace on Wille’s face. Linda turns to Simon and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning, darling. There’s coffee in the kitchen. Felice and I have been making brunch. It’s nearly ready.”

[greatsaladavenue]

Ok more anon replies.

What I’d like to really know isn't if things happend but if they where just as confused about it as we are or never put a tag on it or each other or if they really did know, "got married" and divorced, wondering what Jim and Mimi saw that they didn't like, Or what George knew, and Ringo or if it was like they say in songs as well. Probably a mix.

  Maybe only later they did, questioning it, themselves well Paul at least but I also think he is too smart for not knowing and that’s why he’s so careful with how he says it what words he uses or what he is saying  is that even though John was more outspoken he wasn’t any vicer which hits very close to my opinion. I don't see what he says while with Yoko as statement for truth tho. Yoko don't know shit, not sure if Linda did. And wondering what Jane would say about it. Btw kudos girl for breaking up with Beatle-Paul.

John wasn’t even half secure about anything in his life, let alone love. But I also don't think Paul is all that secure as he comes off. Yes, he is to blame too, as well as John whom I've no doubt about was the one who walked out and left, he did leave everybody, not just Paul. George did also have lots of issues, Ringo too none of them came out of it the same they used to be and back then it wasn’t many labels for it. Not much to help them either. I also think all the Beatles where very close and they where all important to each other. They all have all have really sweet, witty sides. We also have to understand that there are many decades ago and it was another time and that the Beatles story has been told by mostly other people and let’s give you a picture and I have the same picture and then put hem away and we have a talk about it. We’re gonna remember our past. But maybe differently. I don’t doubt they both had feeling for each other, if Paul wants to label himself as straight it's ok. Iol. Whatever people wants to label them as I don’t change my opinion.

Oh, I haven't read many official Beatle books. or seen many movies. Sorry I'm more interested in Get Back or things they did or was part of themselves. I think there's as much "fan-fiction" out there but we usually have better writers.

Yes I read and love fanfiction.

[tecontos]

Brincando com o perigo (Julho-2023)

By; Leninha

Oi a todos, eu me chamo Leninha, tenho 20 anos, e sou de São Paulo.

Andei passando uns dias na casa de meus avós, em Vitoria, no espírito Santo, fui com o meu pai, e no domingo em que estive lá eu acabei dando uma boa transada com o meu primo, aproveitando que sua mulher tinha saído, ele é casado e por sorte eu quase me ferrei, pois a sua mulher quase nos pegou, mas consegui sair de lá instantes antes dela chegar.

Na Segunda-feira, no comecinho da noite, entrei no banho assim que meus avós saíram para irem à uma missa, acompanhados pelo meu pai.

Minutos depois, estava me enxugando e ouvi o som da campainha, vesti o robe rapidão e desci para atender. Era o Daniel (meu primo), estava meio de porre e de aparência horrível.

— Eita! A festa foi boa, hem? — falei zoando.

— Quebrei o pau com a mulher. Tive vontade de matar aquela vaca.

— Você bateu nela?

— Magina! Sabe que sou da paz, ela que é um saco.

— O Juninho (filho dele) entregou o lance de ontem, sobre a porta fechada, foi a deixa pra mulher desenterrar todas as minhas mancadas passadas.

— Não devem ser poucas, pois você não é fácil, né homi?

— Aquela barraqueira ficou berrando na frente dos meninos, me chamou de ordinário, pervertido, traidor…

— E não é? — Por acaso você não me comeu ontem? — falei em tom de farra, porém preocupada, a mulher deve ter ligado os pontos e ainda poderia sobrar pra mim.

— Você gostou, né safadinha?

— Pronto! O pretensioso está de volta.

— Não é isso, Leninha, é que foi muito bom pra mim, a gente tem uma química legal.

— Cadê o padrinho? — perguntou ele.

— Saiu com minha vó, já devem estar voltando.

Não contei que meus avós foram pra missa porque não queria estimular o homem e dar nova chance pro azar, chega de terror.

— Então a gente tem um tempinho pra namorar, né?

Putz! Esse descarado não tem jeito, pensei.

— Nem vem, Daniel! Faltou muito pouco pra você ferrar com a minha vida ontem.

— Ah! Confessa que você também está afim.

— Aff! Por que será que homem é tão prepotente?

O safado partiu pro ataque me abraçando e espremendo meu corpo contra o dele.

— Você é um tesão e tanto, Leninha.

— Para, Daniel, tá com bafão de cachaça!

Ele continuou no ataque dando um beijo devorador em minha boca. Senti ódio de mim mesma por não conseguir resistir, pois além do beijo carregado de erotismo, também permiti que suas mãos fizessem festa pelo meu corpo ao invadir o interior do meu robe. Começou subindo por minhas coxas, e ao chegar ao meu bumbum, descobriu que eu não vestia mais nada por debaixo.

O homem afastou um passo segurando em minhas mãos. Olhou pra mim com cara de cachorro pidão.

— Que foi? — perguntei demonstrando malícia.

— Você é a safadinha mais linda do mundo.

Ele soltou devagar minhas mãos e foi de encontro ao laço do meu robe. Fiquei estática, meu lado devassa pediu passagem. Fiquei super excitada com a oportunidade de exibir a minha nudez pra ele.

Ele soltou o laço, segurou dos dois lados da gola e deixou que o robe deslizasse suavemente por meu corpo até chegar ao chão.

— Meu Deus! Você é uma obra de arte, anjinho.

Seus olhos percorreram meu corpo de cima a baixo. Foi prazeroso ser admirada, meus mamilos incharam como nunca e senti meus pelinhos pubianos encharcados de tanto tesão. Nem tive tempo de ficar sem graça. O homem faminto me agarrou e abocanhou meus peitos sugando meus mamilos.

Estava descontrolada e louca de vontade de transar com ele de novo, ainda assim tive um momento de lucidez e lembrei do perigo.

— Aqui não, Daniel, vamos pro meu quarto.

— Boa ideia, anjo.

O maluco pegou meu corpo nu em seus braços e iniciou a subida.

— Espera, seu louco, volta!

A escada iniciava ao lado da porta de entrada, ele voltou uns degraus e eu tranquei com a chave.

Em seguida, o grandão saiu no gás me levando nos braços como se eu fosse um bebê.

No interior do meu quarto, com mais uma porta trancada, fiquei mais segura pra entrar de cabeça nessa relação. Fui deixada sobre a cama e observei o danado se despir a milhão. Não fui acometida pelo medo do dia anterior. Meu desejo naquele instante era entregar meu corpo todinho pra ele. Já éramos cúmplices de um segredo e nossa relação era íntima.

Ele veio em minha direção, fiquei quietinha e ansiosa esperando o contato do seu corpo nu com o meu. O homem rasgava elogios às minhas partes íntimas e dizia o quanto me queria.

Colocou-me atravessada na cama, ajoelhou no chão e se alojou entre minhas pernas abertas. Pensei que já seria penetrada naquele instante pela fera. Mas tive uma grata surpresa: ele deitou o tronco sobre o meu para me beijar de um jeito bem carinhoso.

Sua boca deslizou até meu peito e mordiscou, chupou e amassou gostoso meus seios.

Continuou descendo com seus lábios deslizando em minha pele até atingir a região mais sensível, minha buceta. Levantou minhas pernas deixando-me arreganhadinha. Meu corpo estremeceu como se eu tivesse levado um choque ao sentir o contato da sua língua na minha boceta.

Geeente! Que loucura foi aquilo, uma língua agitando feito um réptil dentro de mim. Impossível não soltar a voz em um gemido insano.

Ele adicionou o dedo na brincadeira e continuou me enlouquecendo. Senti que flutuava e o prazer duplicava… Ahhh! Gozei na boca do homem, um gozo único que parecia não ter fim.

Deus! Que magia é essa, nunca senti nada igual, meu coração quase saiu do peito.

A seguir ele veio pra cima. Tudo que eu queria era ser possuída por aquele homem. Nos ajeitamos na cama com ele entre minhas pernas dobradas e abertas. Relaxei o corpo e senti a cabeça do pau pincelando minha fenda e abrindo caminho.

—Ahh!

A invasão começou e arrancou meu suspiro. Sentir aquilo tudo invadindo a minha boceta era pura magia. Ele tem razão, existe uma química entre nós.

Meu corpo frágil sentia conforto debaixo daquele homem másculo pesando sobre mim. Ao mesmo tempo sentia-me protegida. Somado aos seus golpes firmes no vai e vem frenético em meu sexo, fizeram com que eu me sentisse a pessoa mais feliz do mundo.

Depois de uns minutos as estocadas ficaram bem aceleradas e ele urrava ao soltar o ar.

— Não goza dentro, amor! — murmurei.

— Fica tranquila, anjo, tiro antes.

Desconfiei que ele estava prestes a gozar e não ia tirar. Não falei mais nada, resignei-me e só queria curtir o momento e gozar junto com ele.

Fui salva pelo gongo, ele parou as estocadas e começou a tirar de dentro devagar.

— Não deixa pingar na cama, Dani!

— Tranquila, eu não vou gozar ainda.

Nos abraçamos e o beijo foi o mais romântico e mais gostoso de todos que já demos.

Depois de algumas carícias, ele deitou e pediu que eu fosse por cima. Deixei o homem entre minhas pernas e ajeitei seu pau na entrada da minha boceta. Sentei devagar sobre ele…

— Ahhh! Que delícia, Dani.

Ao senti-lo todinho dentro, comecei a mover meus quadris em círculo e curtir o momento especial.

Aos poucos aumentamos o ritmo até chegar ao ponto em que cavalguei quicando adoidada em seu pau.

— Ahhhhh! — Meu orgasmo veio em ondas cada vez maiores. Foi duplo, triplo, sei lá. Queria me acabar sobre ele e ficaria ali a noite toda.

No entanto, ele deu o aviso que ia gozar. Tive um desejo maluco de que fosse dentro, mas acabei pensando com a cabeça, não com o sexo.

Saí de cima apoiando as mãos na cama, uma de cada lado dele e engatinhando pra trás. Seu pau saiu apontando pro meu rosto que estava abaixado, um jato de porra atingiu entre minha boca e meu nariz. Sem vacilar eu caí de boca naquele cacete para evitar que molhasse o lençol.

Os outros jatos foram dados em minha garganta. Chupei engolindo até a última gota para não deixar rastros.

Meu desejo era continuar chupando até ficar durão de novo. E sentar sobre ele e me acabar de tanto transar. Todavia, o perigo aumentava a cada minuto que passava. Ele tinha que se mandar logo.

— Você tem que ir, Dani!

— Ah, amor! Só mais uma rapidinha como saideira.

— Não, seu doido, já corremos riscos demais por hoje. Meus avós chegarão a qualquer instante. Se veste e vai, por favor!

Ele não insistiu mais, pois ficou animado quando falei que a gente ainda tinha mais uma semana antes que eu voltasse pra São Paulo.

Arrumei a cama bagunçada enquanto ele se vestia. Também conferi todos os detalhes pra não deixar provas. Putz! Lembrei que meu robe ficou na sala.

Desci com ele.

Ao chegar lá embaixo, eu ainda pelada, ele me pegou num último beijo de despedida antes de abrir a porta e ir embora.

Peguei o robe caído no chão e subi para o banho novamente.

Ainda conseguimos transar mais duas vezes antes d’eu voltar para casa.

Enviado ao Te Contos por Leninha