#that she was just like me in whatever quality and she just had to get over herself and deal with things and not be such a baby about things

[poppy-metal]

dilf! art who unfortunately doesn't get lily on fathers day. maybe her and tashi had something planned, maybe she had a tennis match somewhere else, or maybe she wanted to do something really bad and art let her because he can never say no. whatever it is he finds himself without her on fathers day and you make it your goal to make still it the best. waking him up with breakfast in bed, having lily call him twice, surprising him with the gifts you and lily picked out weeks before, and taking him out for dinner. coming home and relaxing with a glass of wine. holding each other and art slowly kissing you as he brings up the thought that plagued him all day. he'd tell you in between kisses how this day with you made him realize how badly he wants to be a daddy again.

how he wants to have a baby with you. hear the patter of small feet, see you all round and pretty, and just be your own little family. who are you to tell him no to that on fathers day? i just know he has a breeding kink but felt too dirty to say everything in his head. when you're underneath him begging "put a baby in me, art. please, fill me up," in between your moans, he can't hold himself back. finds himself groaning and muttering the whole time about how he's going to fill you up, gonna pump you full until your stomach is bulging out, and get you so full that the two of you will already have a baby by next fathers day. it unleashes a new side of him and you wouldn't make him stop even if you wanted to because you've never seen him let go so much. so you let him use you like a little sex toy and just hold onto him closely, telling him how good he takes care of you and how you can't wait for him to fill you up with your own baby. 

- ☕

im laying on the ground w my neck snapped

arts breeding kink goes so crazy - and its so telling to how much he loves you, because having a family is really just at the core of his wants. and he thought that's what he had with tashi. its taken him a long time to think about starting a new one - lily's getting older though - and he loves you. can't stop thinking about having a baby with your qualities and his - something of you and him - something you made together. hes a fucking sap, alright.

and maybe the whine loosens his tongue because he says all that while hes got a hand dragging up your shirt, feeding himself one of your hard nipples and pushing his hips up into yours.

"i wanna have a baby." he says, against your tits. licks all between the valley of your breasts. grips your waist. "i want a baby with you-"

and this. this is what you've been waiting for. so you rock your hips, lick into his mouth eagerly. swallow his moans and tangle your tongue with his - tasting the wine. sweet.

"put one in me-" you gasp feverish. you're hot to the touch, you want him all over you, inside you already, pumping you full. "fuck me pregnant - wanna make you a daddy again -"

its a blur after that - a tangle of limbs and your clothes yanked down and off - and then hes there, pushing inside you - hot and insistent and he comes down on you - his hips already moving.

"put your legs around me" he says against your lips - "lock me inside-"

you grip his side with your thighs, hooking your ankles at his back and pushing against him, rooting him deep as he can go.

he barely pulls out - but he doesn't go easy on you, either. he rocks into you forcefully, the motion of it jerking the couch forward every couple seconds - your bodies touch everywhere and you cant stop kissing, messy and wet. cant stop moaning and babbling things you cant even keep track of.

"fuck me fuck me fuck me - wanna have your baby, art - w-wanna have so many babies - "

"gonna make you a mommy - fuck, fill this tight little pussy - "

he comes in you once, and doesn't stop there. pushing his cum in as it oozes out, hooking your thighs towards your chest "have to breed you -" he grunts. pushes back inside with an easy glide into your slippery cum filled cunt - "oh, fuck. suck me in just like that, baby, yes - im gonna cum again -"

he'll fill you up three - maybe four time. rubbing his cock raw and sore in your pussy. pumping load after load into you.

you have to make sure it takes.

[jensensitive]

It's not always an easy thing to make breakfast in the morning when there's so many people around. Jostling for what exactly everyone's individual tastes are wanting that morning, or not wanting, or just how much coffee is left, or where the tea went, or who did the dishes last night and why there's stuff on your favorite mug. It's good though, he likes it. It feels right, having his family so close to bug him. He doesn't really like peace and quiet as much as he does the people he loves making themselves known in his life and routine. And the smell of coffee and feeling like it's a new day worth waking up for because everyone's there and alive. Right now it's just him and Sam in the kitchen, but your little brother being annoying is all just a part of it.

"You're like a middle aged divorced guy obsessed with his car, but without the excuse of ever actually having been married."

"Who wouldn't be obsessed with my Baby, she's hot as hell."

"She's never gonna love you back, Dean."

"Hey, that's not nice, I treat my girl right. Take her out on the town. Just last night, she and I went for a nice long drive, real romantic like."

Sam snorts.

Mary walks into the kitchen.

"Hey, mom, there's coffee if you want some. I'm doing pancakes, whether Sam wants 'em or not, you up for pancakes?"

"Always. I'm not gonna say no to pancakes."

"See, that's the right answer, Sam."

"Whatever, I just don't wanna throw up in the middle of my run."

"Seems like there's an easy solution to that where you still get pancakes," Dean quips.

Mary makes herself a cup of coffee at the kitched counter and grabs the milk beside Dean to put some in her mug.

Dean turns back from flipping the pancakes to look back at Sam. "Are you just bugging me about this because you've finally got a girlfriend so now you've got some kind of leg to stand on in how much of a loser I am?"

"Oh, I always had that leg to stand on."

"Sam." Mary chides.

"Sorry, Mom, I'm just messing around."

Dean smiles at Sam getting talked to. "He's just jealous of me and my girl and our long and loving commitment."

"Yeah, real jealous." Sam rolls his eyes. Dean is drinking his coffee, but he knows Sam is rolling his eyes.

"I took her out last night. " Dean offers a low whistle. "You should have seen her, man. Making heads turn left and right, she's still got it."

"Yes, she's so pretty, she's so hot, she's so stunningly blah blah blah, you understand how weird you sound, right?"

Mary smiles. "I think it's sweet. He really likes her. What did you guys do together last night."

Sam groans. "Not you too, come on."

"Took her out for a nice dive-in dinner, curly fires and a burger, with the tray that clips to the window of course, only the best for my girl."

"How romantic." Sam deadpans.

"Then we went for a nice long drive, just us and some Zeppelin, yknow. You gotta have some quality time."

Mary nods. "Your father and I used to do something very similar," Mary answers with a gleam in her eye.

"Yeah, see she gets it." Dean gestures from Sam to Mary.

"It's weird, you both are weird and I'm not participating in your perverse afflictions."

"Zeppelin never sounds better than on my Baby's tape deck."

"Yeah we know you really love a big deck." Sam snorts at himself.

"Yeah whatever." It's Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

Mary turns to him. "So what's her name, when am I gonna meet her?"

Sam starts coughing somewhere in the background.

Dean is just lost. "Huh? Who?"

"Your girlfriend. No pressure or anything, but I'd love to meet her, see who's stolen my son's heart."

Sam barks out a laugh. Dean just blinks. "Huh?"

"She thinks you were talking about an actual human woman, you weirdo." Sam spells out like he's a complete idiot. He might feel his ears turning bright red at the realisation.

"Oh," he chuckles awkwardly. "No, no woman."

"No, he doesn't date actual women anymore, only personified objects that he gives female pronouns."

"Dude, shut up, it's not that weird."

"He was talking about his car."

He should just say it. "Actually." Why shouldn't he just say what he's thinking. "Well, it wasn't just me and Baby, we might have drug Cas along, heh." He huffs at himself awkwardly. " I mean why would I need a girlfriend, I have Cas," he says it like he's joking, so he is. "And my Baby. What more could I want than that."

Sam just sighs deeply like he does when he doesn't think one of Dean's jokes is funny. Well, to be fair, it wasn't.

Mary just lays a hand on his on the counter. "You sound like you're happy." She smiles at him. "And I've already met Cas and Baby, so you don't even need to introduce me."

Sam is just shaking his head as if they're still joking, but Mary is looking at him, and actually seeing what he's saying. And he has to give her hug and try not to cry. "Thanks, mom."

[mal3vol3nt]

This is kinda a long read. But I wanna ask your opinion on this. I see this one post saying Zutara is a purely female fantasy and that’s why so many people hate it. Basically saying it was made for girls, by girls, it has everything a girl wants in a relationship and “When people attack the idea of Zutara, this is fundamentally what they're attacking-women and girls wanting better for themselves in a relationship.”

Now I am just a man. But I think this argument especially the latter part is such a reach and a cope. I don’t see how shipping a fanon ship is some big feminist thing. There are women I know who love Kataang (and if you ask me most of what they’re describing Zutara is actually Kataang in disguise) and there are some guys who like Zutara (which is perfectly fine as long as you don’t write a slave-fic about it like this one guy.

Call me insensitive, but it seems like this guy has some weird victim complex.

Here’s the link BTW:

https://www.tumblr.com/longing-for-rain/753424994905800704/this-isnt-a-question-about-whether-or-not-zutara?source=share

i agree with you anon. i think it’s very silly that these people think a fandom ship is the peak of activism/feminism. such a claim, dare i say, reeks of white feminism, especially when you take into account that the ship they’re claiming is “so feminist” is a relationship between a canonical colonizer and a victim of genocide

the things the op of that zutara post listed are all very westernized “issues” that they claim shipping zutara is supposedly fighting against while also praising western standards, such as saying that zutara is for the girls who want to be with a man they’re attracted to, directly saying that aang is unattractive because he doesn’t fit western beauty standards whereas zuko does. as well as saying zutara is for the girls who want passion in their relationships, directly saying that zuko’s hot-headedness and western masculine qualities are hotter than aang’s pacifism and him being a monk. this claim is also pretty on par with how zutaras sexualize the relationship between zuko and katara, which i don’t even want to get into for obvious reasons. needless to say, i think all of these claims are very very stupid and so obviously come from someone who gravitates towards the racism of the show. sorry not sorry

these claims also come from someone who twists aang’s character so that they feel more justified in hating him, and who twist katara and zuko’s characters so their ship works better. because at no point in the show does it ever feel like katara is changing herself to be with aang, as if she would ever do that (i can tell this is a southern raiders argument—i swear these people misread and latch onto everything). at no point in the show does it ever feel like katara is unattracted to aang, especially since she’s the one who initiates both the first and the last kiss between them, is constantly touching him, and gives him kisses on the cheek in a way she doesn’t do with any one else (she also audibly gasps when she first sees his tattoos in episode 1, which could be read as just her being shocked because she’s never seen airbender tattoos before, but considering the fact her crush on him develops quickly by the beginning of book 2 and she marries him, i wouldn’t be surprised if she also liked the way they looked). all claims that fall back on katara forcing herself to be with aang for whatever reason are projection because 1) katara would never do that. she is not the kind of girl to force herself into any position that doesn’t make her happy, and we see her actively set boundaries with aang in canon, so she is obviously comfortable making her wants known, and 2) katara clearly doesn’t see things through the same lens as her so-called fans. just because you had a crush on zuko doesn’t mean that katara should too, and just because aang isn’t your type doesn’t mean he can’t be her type. yall are projecting onto her

the whole “zutara is for the girls” and “kataang is the male gaze” is so stupid because no, that’s not how that shit works and is a take that is so very american/western that i fail to take it seriously. and yes, i know atla is a western-created show with a western-intended audience, but the characters in the show aren’t and i feel it’s important to acknowledge that

now, i’m a girl (or a woman i should say, 19 years old lmao). and i live in a very patriarchal society and have dealt with sexist standards being forced onto me from my latino culture and family my whole life. it didn’t, however, take long for me to realize that i was unhappy with that way of life and have actively detached myself from it, instead gravitating towards fighting for and recognizing my freedom to choose. this is a freedom i believe all women should have, and i have dedicated myself to learning of the injustices women go through all over the world and do my best to fight against them from where i live. i detest the patriarchy and all things created that demean women or force them into any one role. i am also a lesbian who hardly ever thinks of men lmao. yet miraculously, i am a kataang shipper. according to these zutara stans, im a misogynist who prioritizes male pleasure and happiness. yet from what i know of myself, that’s not at all true. i couldn’t give less of a fuck about patriarchal standards and actively avoid them in the media i consume as much as i can. but i think kataang is cute and i turn away from the thought of zutara, so either one of two things are true:

kataang is for the girls and zutara is the male-gaze

or fictional character shipping has fuck all to do with activism and the kind of person you are in real life

i’m gonna go out on a limb and say number 2 is correct. whether you’re a zutara shipper or a kataang shipper, i don’t think that’s an instant tell of the kind of person you are in your real life. it’s not an actual tell of what you value and yall look ridiculous trying to paint one ship as better than the other on an innate moral level

at the end of the day, this is fandom shipping. you can be a horrible person who engages in shipping content and still be a horrible person at the end of the day regardless of which ship suits your fancy. cause it doesn’t fucking matter. neither of the ships are morally superior to the other in any way that has importance in the real world. yall need to get offline i swear

now personally, i think kataang is an infinitely better ship than zutara for many reasons that i have discussed before, so yall will never catch me saying kataang and zutara are equal in any other context but this one lmao

also saying any colonizer x colonized ship is superior will never be taken seriously by me. you can enjoy those kind of ships all you want, but they’ll never be my cup of tea and that doesn’t make me or anyone else anti-feminist or whatever the fuck insult zks throw out. i just prefer my ships to be between people who haven’t wiped out the other person’s race

[ejsuperstar]

Season Of The Light Dragon - PG 2-4

[<- Prev] [No Next]

Woohoo! Next update is OUT! AND the comic has a name! Sorry it took so long! It's been a lot of procrastination I'll be honest! I promise to keep at it though, while also having everyone's choices meaningful! For example, if go alone had one last update, Steward wouldn't have become our second main character, and You would have remained alone.

Also regarding our MC's name, I've just kind of internally accepted her name is You and that's that (You uses any pronouns since he's meant to represent the readers! Feel free to use whatever pronouns you want to for them! Be it just sticking with they/them, branching out to he/she, or throwing in your favourite neos like xe/xir, it/its, or whatever!)

I've been trying to cut loose a bit with the art for this comic, line and colouring quality definitely isn't as good as my usual illustrations, but it helps me actually get pages done instead of just sitting on it constantly.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

So I've talked about this, I think at live shows. I don't know if I've ever talked about it on the podcast, but, you know, Ben's humor is so based on audio and like, and quality of words and the sounds and and sound effects and like, sort of how people say things. And, and he would get locked into in jokes. He would always have in jokes with literally every single person, every crew member, every cast. He would have one word that he would say that the way he said it would make you lose it. And it was always just one of the funniest things. And Ben and I, over the years, built up a pantheon of these references and repertoire. Oh my God. And this was one of the most legendary. So, and now I see why it's so great, because this what we real, so what he's doing here, and he doesn't actually do it, but what he had been doing all week, he barely does it. But what he had been doing all week was he, Ben used to take the tonal interpretation of lines in movies that we knew and insert the reading into a different line that we actually had to say on the script. So let me explain what I mean. So in the movie, Teen Wolf we talk, and the reason we were doing Teen Wolf was because Jerry. So we had been obviously talking Teen Wolf nonstop. And so there's a character in Teen Wolf is a coach, or the, the drama teacher. And the drama teacher has this amazing line where Michael J. Fox walks on. He's refusing to be the werewolf near the end of the movie when he is decided to embrace his humanity. And the, the, the, the drama teacher is gonna kick him outta the show. And he goes, how do I put this? No, no, no wolf. No wolf. No wolf, no part. And we always just thought it was so brilliant because the guy, he swallows it. And the way he sort of like, you know, 'cause the way it's written is like no wolf, no part kid. And he decides to like, make it this like very, and Ben and I would quote it and thought it was hysterical. So then Ben started saying, whatever this line is, I, God, I should have written it down. -Rider

In this recurring dream. What happens next? Shawn recalls, I'm left alone with this beautiful sorority girl who just got dumped, who just got dumped by her boyfriend. She's not too fond of men at the moment. So she wreaks havoc on me emotionally and physically. -Danielle

And then what does Ben's, what does Cory say then? -Rider

Cory, tell Shawn there's something that's not quite meshing with. -Danielle

That's, it was mesh. It was mesh. Mesh. Mesh. So he all week long would say, Shawn, Shawn, there's something that's not quite um mesh. Meshing. Meshing. And he would, so he inserted and it was something he would do at run throughs. He would do it in front. And nobody knew what he was doing. But he's signaling to me. Except for me. So I would be losing. So you can see in anticipation of this moment coming, and I'm sitting here basically daring him. You're not gonna do it while the cameras are rolling. I know. He already had, which is why I was already losing it. 'cause this is probably take two. So yes, this is the brinksmanship of me and Ben trying to make each other laugh. And they left it, they left. 'Cause there probably wasn't a take where we are not losing it. So yes, this is Ben Savage doing his Teen Wolf tone line insertion on our dialogue to just mesh. make each other laugh. And they left it, they left. 'cause there probably wasn't a take where we are not losing it. So yes, this is Ben Savage doing his teen wolf tone line insertion on our diet dialogue to just mesh. Mesh. Meh. Oh, there's so many instances of this throughout our history. But this was like the, I mean, yeah, I'll never forget it. And when I saw me start to laugh, that's all I remembered about this episode. That's all I remembered. Man, that makes me miss it so much. -Rider 

[dwtdog]

slightly longer drabble for fem dnf week day 2🥳🥳

--

Dream hums as she spins her lock, a song she’d heard on the car radio that morning perpetually stuck in her head. The click of the lock as it reaches each number is in tune with the beat, and it makes her grin something crazy. 

With a final twist, the lock clicks open, and she’s able to swing the door of her locker out, stopping it just in time from hitting her friend, Nic, square in the face. Nic gives her a look, but Dream is hardly fazed- the shorter girl always has plenty of glares to go around. 

The song playing in her head comes to an end as she rifles through her backpack, pulling out the books she won’t need for the rest of the day, and hefting them up and into the locker. She takes a moment to admire it, as she always does. She’d taken care when decorating at the beginning of the year, enlisting her mom and sister to help make some cute decorations, but the star of the show is Dream’s prized collection of magazine cuttings- cheerleaders from all over the country, in all sorts of poses, decorating the entire inside of the locker door. 

She’d been collecting them for years at this point, after begging her parents for a subscription to a cheerleading magazine, and the selection she’d chosen for school had been meant to inspire her. Tricky poses and tight uniforms, all the better to motivate her own performance.

Nic snorts. Dream tilts her head, peering around the edge of her locker, to see Nic crossing her arms and giving her another sort of look. This one is less reproachful and more- knowing. Dream hates it.

“Nicole,” Dream says pleasantly, rearranging the backpack in her arms. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, don't worry about me. I can see you were having some quality time, enjoying those pictures of yours,” Nic responds, shrugging. 

Dream sighs dramatically, taking one last look at the pictures before closing the locker door. Her eyes linger on exposed stomachs and bare shoulders, so perfectly tanned. Her skin just never seems to get that way.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she says, throwing her backpack strap over her shoulder. “All you do is play basketball or whatever. We don’t even have a girls team.”

Nic just laughs, joining Dream as they head for class together. Neither of them like chemistry all that much, but it’s made more enjoyable when they sit together, heads bent over a shared desk as they exchange gossip. The teacher, a senile old man, is too absorbed in drawing meaningless molecular bonds on the board to notice. 

“I heard Jimmy has a new girlfriend,” Nic whispers as soon as they’re seated. She meets Dream’s eyes expectantly, tapping her fingers in rapid succession. “That bitch Tiffany.”

Dream smiles immediately. “Oh, I love Tiffany! Did you see her prom dress last year? The red was so perfect for her.”

“As if!” Nic says, a touch too loud. Dream elbows her in the ribs, giggling. “She stole your boyfriend!” she murmurs, voice peaking with disbelief.

“Oh, but we broke up a week ago?” Dream glances at the board, trying, for a moment, to decipher it. She gets as far as identifying a hydrogen bond before she gives up, turning her full attention back to an indigent Nic. 

Nic just shakes her head, drawing a hand down her face. “Whatever,” she mutters.

The rest of class passes as normal, when Dream starts telling Nic about her upcoming routine for the first football game of the season. She even draws out a few diagrams in the notebook she’s meant to be taking chem notes in, appreciative of Nic’s rapt attention.

When the bell rings, a shrill sound that makes Dream’s ears ache a bit, the two are quick to push their chairs back and collect their things. 

One more period, and they’re free.

Dream likes her English class, and her English teacher, but not their seating chart. The teacher had realized, after the first day, that Dream and Nic were not to be trusted to sit together, so Dream had been assigned a seat in the far back corner of the room, and Nic up at the front. 

It sours her good mood a bit to part ways, but it immediately brightens when she notices a girl in the seat that’d been empty for the first few weeks of year. She’s got dark hair and pale skin, and a pouty look on her face where she’s slumped at the desk.

“I like your shirt,” Dream says when she’s close, hovering in front of the girls desk and looking down at her with wide eyes. 

She glances down, as if reminding herself of what the aforementioned shirt is, before meeting Dream’s gaze with dark eyes. “Thanks,” she smiles, a small thing, and Dream’s heart beats harder for a moment. She loves making friends! “I cut it myself.” She sits up slightly, revealing that the shirt is indeed cropped, falling to just above her belly button. 

“That’s so cool,” Dream gushes, glancing disparagingly down at her own outfit. “I tried that once, but it came out all- weird. Like I didn’t cut it right. Maybe I need to try it again,” she smiles, finally moving to sit at her own desk but keeping her body fully facing the other girl. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Dream.”

“Dream,” the girl says, her lips moving fully with each letter. “I like that. I’m George.”

It sends a little thrill down Dream’s spine, to see the way George tilts her dead defiantly, as if expecting Dream to push back against her name, or question it. Instead, she says-

“George, George, George,” drawing out the vowels like George had done for her name. It tastes like candy on her lips, addictive. “So cool. Are you new here?”

And that kicks off their conversation. They spend the entirety of English talking and talking, cursory glances to make sure they haven’t been caught the only attention they pay to the material. 

Dream learns that George is from London, that her family had only just moved and she’d had to start late. That she thinks Florida is nice, due to all the sun, and that she likes cats a whole lot. In turn, Dream tells her about her large family, her best friend Nic, and the cheerleading team. 

“Do you like cheerleading?” Dream asks tentatively, tapping her pencil against her thigh. “It’s okay if you don’t obviously, but I kind of talk about it a lot, so, sorry if you don’t.”

“I- I don’t really know?” George says, and Dream notices that her eyes are following the motion of the pencil. “We didn’t really have it at my old school.”

Dream gasps, affronted. “That’s terrible! You have to come to our practice tonight. We’re going through our whole routine, it’ll be like- like a little introduction! Just for you,” she beams, happy butterflies filling her stomach at the thought of George watching her perform. 

“Okay,” George says immediately, smiling right back. It’s at that moment, of course, that the bell rings again. Dream glances at the clock, surprised. It had felt like no time at all, but class really is over. George stands, the skin of her stomach shifting as she does. “See you there, then?”

Dream nods, jumping up from her own seat. “On the field! In an hour,” she adds, scribbling it down on a piece of paper to pass to George, along with the number of her Blackberry. “Text me if you get lost.”

George takes the paper when Dream offers it, their hands brushing in the process. George feels cold, and for a small moment, Dream is half tempted to offer up her jacket. But the moment passes, George tucking the paper into a pocket of hr dark jeans, waving over her shoulder as she leaves. 

Dream doesn’t even notice that she’s been rooted in the same spot, staring, until Nic appears at her side, flicking her shoulder. “Uh, Earth to Dream. Don’t you need to get ready for practice?”

--

George comes to practice that day, and the day after that, and every practice for the rest of the football season. She comes to all the games too, sitting in the same spot on the bleachers every time- the spot with the best consistent view of the cheer team. 

Dream always waves during practice, as many times as she can. It’s harder during games, with her mind entirely focused on the routine and everything she needs to do, but she always looks George’s way, and meets her after each and every game.

George doesn’t have a car- Dream is happy to drive her home. She only accepts half of the time, often citing that she enjoys the fresh air of walking home. Dream does her best to hide it, but George sees the way her face falls when she refuses

Tonight, after the final football game of the season, George accepts happily. It’s a chilly night in December, and she’s only wearing a jacket- Dream’s. It’s bright green, entirely outside of George’s usual range of colors but- it’s Dream’s.

Dream, the delightful idiot who still hasn’t realized she’s totally crushing on George.

It would be fun to watch, if George hadn’t fallen hopelessly in love with the other girl from the moment of their first meeting. Love is probably too strong a word, but she quite likes it. She spends way too much time just turning it over and over in her mind, Dream and love and love and Dream. 

Dream is fighting with the lock across from George as she stands, shivering, outside the passenger door. George doesn’t know how Dream isn’t cold- she’s still got her cheerleading outfit on, their school colors gaudy against her tanned skin, freckles spilling down her bare shoulders. George wants to touch.

Finally, the locks click open, and George is able to open her door, to slide into the roomy seats of Dream’s car. It’s not a particularly nice car, but George loves it because it smells like Dream. 

It also smells and looks a bit like George, a pair of George’s shoes stashed in the back seat, an empty can of her favorite soda left in the cupholder. George and Dream, Dream and George. As it should be.

Dream is smiling when George looks up, her green eyes bright with adrenaline. She’s told George a million times how much fun she has performing her cheer routines, how good she feels when they go off without a hitch. And tonight had been spectacular, even by George’s untrained eye- or, she supposes, her recently trained eye. An entire season of going to games to watch the pretty cheerleader you have a crush on will give you a good idea of the sport. 

“You did good,” George says, flinging her feet up on the dash. “The whole squad did. Everyone around me was super into it.”

Dream touches George’s shoulder for a moment, an excited little motion. She waves her hands as she explains, the car sitting idle as they talk late into the night, as the parking lot empties around them.

George is more than happy to watch her in all her excitement, the way she picks through every motion of the routine, every place she could have done better, every improvement the other girls had made. She’s critical, but encouraging. Sweet, but smart, and George can’t seem to look away from her plush lips. 

“Oh,” she says, after recounting the end of the game, when they’d rushed the field to celebrate. “Jimmy talked to me on the field.”

George wrinkles her nose. “What did he want?”

“He asked if I’d want to go out with him again. He said it just seemed right, since they’d just won,” Dream is growing slightly, and George hates it. Stupid Jimmy and his stupid ideas.

“And?” George prompts, swallowing back the pit of jealousy crawling up her throat, bitter. 

“I told him I was over him,” Dream says, the smile returning to her face, although it’s lost some of its luster. “That he and Tiffany are good for each other.”

“And you meant it?” George asks before she can stop herself, biting her lip as soon as the words have left her mouth. 

Dream’s eyebrows draw together, and her lips twist as she thinks. “I did, yeah,” she says at last. “I mean, obviously. I never really liked him that much. But why’d you ask?”

“Because he’s- y’know- the football star. Hottest guy in school,” she says the last part with a touch too much of the irony that dogs her words anytime she tries to talk about guys like the other girls do. “All the girls love him,” she tacks on, hoping to hide her stumble.

But Dream only meets her eyes with an oddly knowing gaze. But she ruins it when she says- “Well all the other girls haven’t had to kiss him. It’s like making out with a dog, all slobbery.”

“You’ve made out with a dog?” George asks, faux indignation punctuated by a dramatic raise of her hands to clutch at her heart. “That explains everything.”

“Ew- god no, shut up George, oh my god,” Dream stumbles, giggling. “It was a metaphor. Maybe if you paid any attention in English you’d get it.”

But George is already laughing, chest shaking with it. She has to bring her legs down to rest on the floor, doubling over as Dream continues to protest. They both quiet down after a long few moments, and George sits up to see Dream staring right at her, eyes wide. 

“What- Is there something on my face?” George asks, yanking down the mirror to check. 

“No, no,” Dream says, voice oddly pitched up. “It's just uh- you have a really nice laugh, George.”

George feels the blood flow to her cheeks, heating her face in an instant. “Oh, uh, thanks Dream. You too,” and now it’s her turn to stumble over the words, her eyes darting anywhere but Dream’s face.

“And you have nice hands,” Dream continues, like a dam has been opened. “Like, look, okay, hold yours up.” And Dream holds up a hand between them, fingers spread. George, entirely at her mercy, obeys, holding her hand up to Dream’s.

Her mouth waters when she sees the way her fingers are dwarfed by Dream’s, the way they fit together perfectly. It’s as if all function in her mind grinds to a halt, entirely focused on the point of contact. 

“Wow,” Dream breathes, seemingly in the same position as George. She bends the tips of her fingers so they fold over the top of George’s, only serving to further emphasize the difference. She’s so warm, and George is so gone. 

It’s a rash decision, to move her hand so that their fingers slide together, palms pressed together. It’s even better than before, all-encompassing and George has to bite back a squeak when Dream squeezes, as if testing something.

“This is nice,” Dream says at last, like nice is the sort of word that can encompass the thoughts racing through George’s mind, surely escaping her, projecting her feelings all over the small interior of the car. “Your hands feel so- so different from uh, Jimmy’s,” she says, and flexes her fingers again.

George takes a breath. 

“Good different?” George presses, already knowing the answer. She’s suddenly very aware of how alone they are, how empty the parking lot is. How no one would see if she leaned in, if they-

“Yeah. Really good,” Dream says. She lets her hand fall, drawing George’s with it, to rest in the space between them. And George can see her face again, the way pink dusts her cheeks, the way her pupils have doubled in size.

“Interesting,” George says, like she isn’t buzzing to take and take and take.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Dream asks suddenly, her eyes flicking to somewhere just over George’s head. “If you want to say, I guess. You just never really talk about dating, so I don’t know if you’re comfortable-”

“Nah,” George says, cutting her panicked ramble off and squeezing her hand comfortingly. “I was never really interested in-” boys “-dating.”

“Oh,” Dream tilts her head, as if considering. “So you’ve never- You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

George shrugs. “Uhm, I guess not.” She shifts in her seat, Dream’s gaze hot on her face. “And no, I haven’t kissed any dogs, before you ask.”

That gets a smile and a laugh out of Dream, and George relaxes marginally. Until, of course, Dream says-

“Do you want to try?” 

George blinks at her. Dream blinks back, her makeup somehow still perfect even after an entire cheer routine. Her lips are deliciously pink, and George knows she sees the way her eyes linger there.

“You’d let me?” George asks, breathless. It’s too open, too indicative of the unspoken truth of her existence but- It’s Dream. 

Dream’s throat bobs as she swallows. “I would. It’d be- fun. I think.”

“Okay,” George says.

“Okay,” Dream says.

And George leans in, disconnecting their fingers when she realizes the angle will be off. She sees the way Dream’s eyes flick to their separated hands, the small look of disappointment, before she’s leaning in too, eyes sliding shut. George keeps hers open until the last moment, until her lips touch Dream’s and the world vanishes around them.

It’s a sweet, gentle kiss. Dream, conscious of George’s inexperience, probably, barely moves, just letting the moment go on and on. George wants to live in it forever, but she also wants to move.

So she pulls back, but only just. Dream is slow to reopen her eyes, lips still parted as she stares and stares at George.

“Again?” George asks. Dream nods. “But- You can move this time, okay?” Their lips are nearly brushing already. “Show me.”

[patchofgrey]

I have a few head cannons for these two that I wanna throw out there; Writing these two for like 10 years has made me realized that no matter what situation they are in (if writing in character) they are the idealistic couple. Sure, they argue and fumble the bag sometimes, but their dynamic is FIERCE. You cannot tell me that his most trusted friend, partner, and balanced scale IS NOT IDEAL? These are my head cannons that I base my stories on while writing them in character (which took a long time to do honestly, writing in character with characters who are not fully developed is hard as fuck. But you take whatever crumbs you get.)

Plus, I would’ve changed a bunch of things in this anime but that’s besides the point

😤

Follow me on my delulu because it’s the only solulu:

1. Neji started liking Tenten prior to the second round fights of the chunnin exams. It started as admiring her skills, but grew to an emotional level as time went on. He asked her specifically to train with him because he felt that she was able to keep up and offer him a challenge in a realm he was not skilled in; weapon handling and evasion. This is going off of the fact that in one of the video games, Tenten had beat both Neji and Lee in evasion training, which in my mind, means that Neji saw Tenten for her skills and held her in very high regard even if she got clapped by Temari (which he didn’t fault her for! It was a bad match up). While they trained, Tenten would push conversation with him to the point where they started talking about their personal lives and led to Tenten finding out about the curse mark, his father, and his blind spot. Tenten had shared her deep insecurities about never being able to match up to them, or to be good enough to be like Lady Tsunade (especially after she fumbled the medical ninja training). To that, Neji ensured her that she was a great match up to himself and Lee; which is why he asked her to help train him in the first place. Since then, Neji has made it his priority to ensure that Tenten did not fall into a deep depression and would always praise her with the “you are good enough as you are.” He would shower her with subtle affection by buying her sweets when she was in a bad mood and spending some of his days off with her. In fact, it wasn’t until Gai-sensei had pointed out that Neji was attached to her, and was doting on her to make sure she kept a smile on her face. Neji would roll his eyes (as most 13-14 whatever’s they were) but kept at it well into their late teens.

2. Tenten is oblivious as fuck to Neji’s affection. I used this a lot in my Sleepless Nights fic, and sprinkled it in for some oneshots as well as hinted at it in Frequency. Tenten is an over thinker and can get inside her own head very easily. She thinks Neji is just being a good friend; arguably, she considers him a best friend since they are with each other all the time. She’s been so focused on her work that she never even considered the possibility that Neji liked her in anything past a friend. To be fair, Neji doesn’t seem like the type to make it obvious when he likes someone. And we’re about to get into that…

3. Neji is awkward as hell when it comes to anything emotion related but his love languages are Acts of Service and Gift Giving. Neji is alright with quality time, but he is a protector before anything else. I see Neji more as a “how can I help?” Or “Let me know if you need me.” He probably also gets snapped at by Tenten when he instinctively helps her and does things for her without asking if she needs help. She very much “I can do it myself” type of girl. Like I said before, he dotes on Tenten by buying her sweets and things she likes, I wouldn’t be surprised if he followed her around different weapons shops while they were on missions and helping her add to her enormous weapons collection. We also saw the acts of service come out of him when he shadowed Hinata (which was really sweet honestly. It showed his softer side and he maybe felt a bit guilty for treating her like garbage after his father died and was trying to make it up to her).

4. Tenten started realizing her feelings when they retook the chunnin exams. C’mon we all saw the look on home girl’s face when Fu grabbed Neji’s hand and asked him to be her friend. It screamed LET GO OF MY MAN. Tenten hasn’t seen or experienced Neji interacting with other girls besides herself and Hinata (excluding Sakura and Ino who they were all friends with, but only interacted with on occasion). She didn’t like the idea of Neji getting attention from other girls.

5. Both are the jealous type. I know, I didn’t think Neji would be either, but it makes sense to me; Why would she be with anyone else other than him? Was he not her best friend? Who they shared all their deep dark feelings and secrets with? How dare someone else look at her partner in such a way? How dare they talk to her like that in front of him! For Tenten I don’t see it running extremely deep, but maybe a touch of it like stated above.

6. Lee was in on it. He absolutely knew. There’s no way Lee is so oblivious to his rival’s feelings. Especially since Gai has VERY loose lips. I wouldn’t be surprised it Lee was there when Gai had pointed out Neji’s affections for Tenten when they were gennin. Lee wanted them to be together and wanted to see them happy; Neji found comfort in knowing Tenten was alright. Tenten found comfort in Neji by trusting him with her feelings and not being harshly judged for it. I can see Lee purposefully hanging back and watching the two of them spar.

7. Neji only genuinely smiles around Tenten. Sure he would offer a small smile of a smirk most of the time. But around her he can actually pull his guard down and feel happy.

8. Neji struggles to keep his feelings towards Tenten in check. He feels as though he doesn’t want to ruin their deeply rooted friendship and tends to keep a straight face when they are with a group. Tenten-again being oblivious- thinks he is just being an egotistical jerk around everyone when he’s not really like that when they are alone. He keeps some physical distance towards her as well unless they are fighting together, to prevent any mistakes and obvious signs of his affections. Perhaps he’s not into PDA either.

9. They argue. A lot. But it never ends in them feeling unheard or disrespected; these two have strong personalities and are very opinionated anyway.

10. Neji confided in Hinata about his feelings on Tenten, and Hinata promised to keep it a secret.

11. Neji tries to encourage Tenten to use her Taijutsu skills for close combat more. There’s a post circulating right now about how Tenten’s close combat abilities surpassed everyone but her team’s. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tenten felt discouraged by the fact that both boys on her team were already close range fighters and struggled with her gifts of long range fighting; she overthinks and puts herself into a box. Neji probably has attempted to strictly train with her (think Shippuuden…17-18 years old?) on her taijustu so she could gain some confidence. In fact, he has brought up to her that she would have beat Temari years ago if she would’ve show cases her taijustu abilities.

12. Their fighting style is more like a dance in flow.

I have more but imma stop there lol. I have ideas on how they first kissed, slept with each other all that stuff; how he would’ve proposed; It’ll be a very long post especially if I get into the whole “if Neji survived the war” which u do have a fanfiction on right now 👀 look at my pinned post for the link.

Thank you for joining me in my delulu 🫡

[arklay]

RESIDENT EVIL → DR. DIANA WESKER

"This is how a girl becomes holy: first she becomes empty." — Brynne Rebele-Henry, Prelude

[templates × & × — insp — playlist]

[marsbotz]

crazy awesome scary dream last night abt being stuck in sone sort of infinite labyrinth

[medicinemane]

And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"

I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse

And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa

And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house

I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished

...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)

And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff

There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government

No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)

Like have some accountability there and in every situation

Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free

If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off

I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)

But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced

Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around

I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)

...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change

(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)

(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)

[dietbeverage]

Sometimes I remember a conversation I had with my mom around the time they were learning about my younger sisters adhd and she said "a lot of people with adhd need to do something to occupy themselves to help their brains think. A lot of them doodle or bounce their leg or do something like that in class and it helps them focus." And I remember thinking yeah I do both of those things but I'm built different lmao I just do those for fun and not bc of adhd. Girl...

[cheesey-rice]

Hmmm the drama I'm watching is losing me a little bit.

[becca-alexa]

i understand the technological gap between generations but at what point does that gap just turn into incompetence

[ivymarquis]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[kaciidubs]

Pearl Necklace

❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Baby…” 

Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”

“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”

The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.

“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”

Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.

“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”

“Oh?” 

Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.

“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”

You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”

A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.

“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”

“I do.”

Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.

“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”

“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”

Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.

“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”

You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.

“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.

He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”

Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.

Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.

The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.

“Ready to make that necklace for me?”

His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”

Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.

Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.

“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”

The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.

He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.

“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”

Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.

“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”

Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.

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