#unflushables

[bartmobile]

cis men are so fucking nasty

[theklaapologist]

Someone took a shit in the bathroom and now I can’t throw up jdhsjshsnsnsnsnnsnans screaming crying

[knifefightscene]

Respect the gender neutral bathroom but as someone who has shared bathroom with other ppl my whole life i need my own bathroom… some ppl are disgustinh

[new-austin]

Terfs always call women's bathrooms a safe space but then you go into a public women's bathroom and there is biological warfare being committed in the stalls

[svahofqtvqafq]

Mature Redhead Jasmina Hot Finger Bangs Her Hairy Fire Crotch Mexican mature man fuck four hot ebony girls Haighlee Dallas Loves to Swallow Cum Bitchy sweethearts can not have enough of cock and ball torture Novinha magrela alisando buceta e mijando no banheiro Ski orgy Side Chicks Liz Katz Stars on Tits Namorada fazendo boquete gostoso Gagged smalltits sub gets toyed during BDSM Super pawg fat

[seasonofprophecy]

Everything is rotting everything is moldy everything is disgusting!!! Noxious toxic sickening I'm sick I'm sick I'm sick

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Filthy Clean

cw: You and Levi have a clean rivalry lmaoo. levi x f! reader, smut, 18+, shower sex, fingering, face slapping, slight cum play, mild dubcon, praise kink, cum swallowing, creampie. I HATE posting fics on tumblr with a passionnnn but I thought you guys would enjoy this one. I posted this to ao3 a while ago but I'm still in my levi era lmaoo. wc 6.9k.

Men were disgusting.

The dirt the younger cadets trudged into the barracks and lounging areas did not discriminate, but the filth the male cadets managed to accumulate was truly unmatched. Beds unmade, toilets unflushed, and had none of them heard of a fucking coaster? 

Or a napkin?

You leaned farther so your swiping hand might reach the table’s full breadth. You wiped in wide, angry circles. You’d be here for ages trying to get the grime off the table, gathering the courage needed to tackle the bathrooms. 

“Ugh.” Your washcloth came across something unidentifiably sticky. “Fucking gross …”

So consumed were you with your task you did not see the hand come to meet yours until it was too late, and your pinkies met.

You blinked.

“Oi.”

You looked up to see a dark-haired man fixing you with a glare, the majority of his face obscured by a handkerchief.

“What are you doing?” 

You frowned. “Cleaning this table.”

The man straightened. “Well” — he snatched your washcloth from your grasp — “you’re doing a shitty job.”

“Hey!”

“Just let me do it.”

“It’s my job.”

“Hah?” A brow raised in question your way. “Someone’s paying you to do such a shitty job?”

“I’m not!” You were truly flustered now. “I’m doing as good of a job as I can with how filthy people are here!”

“Tch.”  The man’s sharp eyes cast down to the table. “That we can agree on.”

“And” — you grabbed your cloth — “you shouldn’t take what isn’t yours.”

You ignored the heat of the man’s appraisal. He can stare at my ass all he likes. You hummed. “Who are you anyway?” You asked, layering the wooden table with more solution. 

His eyes widened. “How do you not …?”

“I don’t keep tabs on everybody in this infernal regiment.” You scrubbed angrily at the sticky table — was it fucking gum or something? “So, I wouldn’t know if  you were famous.”

You looked up in time to see the man undo his handkerchief to reveal —

You froze.

Levi. Ackerman.

The Levi Ackerman.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

… Fuck.

“Oh my god …” You straightened, suddenly feeling foolish with the supplies in your hands. “Captain …”

“How the hell do you not know who I am?”

“You —“ You stammered. What should you do? Should you put down the cloth? Should you leave? Fuckfuckfuck. “I — You had that …” You gestured to the handkerchief. “That thing on your face!”

“The handkerchief doesn’t cover up my voice.”

You gobbed like a fish, face flushed from embarrassment. “I —“

“Tch, it’s fine,” he waved you off. “Just let me tackle this room — or stay; you might learn something.”

The humiliation was almost too much. Almost.

“Sir.” You cleared your throat, arm akimbo. “I’m very sure I know what I’m doing.”

Another inquisitive eyebrow. “That so?”

You recognized the challenge in his voice and stretched the cloth — flack — with a tilt of your head. “Yeah,” You said, the edge of your mouth twitching to add, “sir.”

Levi straightened himself again to his full height (which wasn’t much) and took three intimidating steps toward you. You stood your ground as he reared on you, looking you dead in the eye: 

“We’ll see about that.”

After that, you were sure you’d be fired. 

You’d been fired by (figuratively) smaller men for far less. The others cleaning girls were in a tizzy that, somehow, you had squared off with Humanity’s Strongest and were ravenous for developments as soon as you had something to tell. You weren’t sure you’d last that long. Surely you’d be getting canned any moment now.

But instead something far more bizarre was happening: it seemed you were now in a cleaning war with the squad captain of the Special Operations Squad. 

Everywhere you went, the work was already done. Walls scrubbed. Floorboards wiped. Curtains dusted. Limestone’s ass kicked. Even the heinous bathrooms had been tackled by a brave, meticulous set of hands — and you had an inkling those hands were calloused and attached to a pipsqueak.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when a tale of the captain scrubbing one of the barracks had reached you. Apparently, Levi’d done a stunning job — until he noticed a fucking boot print on his flawless floor. All the trembling cadets were rounded up to find a boot match like a scene from some fairy tale, and eventually the print was proven to belong to none other than Eren Jaeger. 

Why was it always fucking Eren Jeager.

By the end of the second week of this cleanathon, you were sprinting to the currently unused dining hall, slamming the doors opened: 

Tables glistened, floors polished … You turned your head to the windows … windows you could use as  fucking mirrors — 

“Son of a bitch!” You shot arms to your sides before storming out, two cadets making way for you. 

Sunday evening, the horse stables were all you had left; you shuffled hay and tended to the equine beauties as best you could, spurred on now by a newfound enthusiasm for your job. By sundown, the hay was stacked, the floors were wiped, the cedar like brand new. 

“Ha! Could be someone’s living quarters.” You turned, satisfied, to the horses with hands at your hips. “Not too shabby, huh?”

One of them huffed at you, blowing hair from your face.

“You must be his,” You scoffed before exiting the stables.

You were proud, but you were tired. The showers were empty by the time you stepped into one to use, pleasantly ignoring the suspicious sheen with which everything glistened as you wheeled the knob to hot. You sighed as water fit to rival hellfire rained down on your aching muscles. You lathered and rinsed, fit to remove the day’s grime. 

Another labored sigh. Finally, some time to — 

The door burst open. You shrieked, spun, covering yourself.

“Get out —!”

“Relax.” Levi, of all people, stepped into view. “It’s just me.”

“My order still stands! Get outwhatthehellareyoudoing —“

“I give the orders.”

Realizing he wouldn’t leave, you scoffed, spinning back toward the shower head. “Can’t believe this,” you murmured. “I can’t wait to report this and let everyone know the captain is a perv —“

“I said relax,” Levi said, not a step out of place (beyond the obvious). “I won’t do anything.”

“Oh, what a comfort …”

“… You did a good job today.”

You blinked, forearms still crisscrossed over your chest. Was that a compliment? You tilted your head, as disturbed as you were intrigued. “Come again?”

“You do have some skills when it comes to cleaning, I’ll give you that,” Levi droned from behind. “Peroxide with a hint of lemon? Definitely more than a rookie.”

Fuck. Even his compliments were nestled in insults. “And this couldn’t wait until after I took a shower?”

Soft rustling; you could only imagine him crossing his arms, staring at your naked back. “I wanna to see if you keep it up.”

What did that mean? You looked down at the nest of suds cradled in your cleavage. And you understood: he wanted to watch you clean yourself. 

“You’re a weirdo.” You shook your head. But, understanding he wouldn’t leave, hardened yourself to this new challenge. You wouldn’t be intimidated. You carried on as though no one were watching, finishing what you had started. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” he spoke up as you bent down to lather a leg.

“Shut —“ You froze, sucking your lips into your mouth. “Sir …” You couldn’t abuse him … he was still a captain … Why did that matter he was fucking watching you take a shower — 

“Tch.” There was that odd sound from him again, but was it just you or was it now tinged with amusement. “Think we’re beyond formalities now, don’t you think?”

You didn’t answer. Your face grew hot as you rose to full height, allowing the shower water to wash the accumulated suds away. You didn’t know what you thought; you were mildly dizzy, the heat and situation doing something to you. Why were you letting this happen, letting a man watch you shower?

… Why were you liking it?

You were about to turn and face Levi to get out when he clicked his teeth:

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

You saw Levi grasp your shoulder. You gasped, nearly slipping as you turned, at last, to face him. 

“Wait,” You said as your back hit the wall. 

But he was there, fully clothed, the shower water getting his hair and uniform wet.

“You’re …” You watched him get drenched. “You’re all wet now.”

Levi’s eyes flickered to yours. “So are you.”

Your lips parted but no words came. Dark strands clung to his face now, and you refused to admit how good he looked. His hands were on you — hands much softer than they should’ve been. He swiped the washcloth from you, threw it away. Levi took the soap from you and treated your skin to a thorough lathering with his bare hands. Calloused hands that should’ve been rough and harsh caressed your neck.

“People always forget their neck,” Levi murmured.

Lines of foam ran down the valley of your breasts, to your stomach. Suds nestled in your belly button as Levi’s hands came to your sides and tugged, motioning for you to turn over.

You made to protest — didn’t. Wordlessly, you turned around for him. His hands cleansed you of the sweat accumulated in your crevices. He massaged into your back, caressed the tension from your shoulders. Levi’s thumb dipped in the small of your back and you suppressed a sound, whatever it had turned into unknown to you and him both. Your trembling hands pressed to the wall when you sensed him bend forward to knead into the skin of your thigh. You squirmed, biting your lip at the moan his meticulous hands fought to elicit. Levi’s hand reached forward and grazed the pert skin of your nipple. At an honest to god moan you couldn’t repress, Levi paused. 

“I …” You kept still under his gaze. 

It was a relief when seconds later Levi resumed his ministrations. 

“Want you fucking spotless,” he said, and you believed him. His hands worked in tandem with the hot water to cleanse you. Levi worked your breasts, cupping them from behind, offering them to the water to be dowsed of suds. Fingers you knew were purposeful grazed at your excited nubs in the process. A hand, once gripped firm at your waist, breached the gap of your legs, a finger sliding over the slit of your vulva. 

You gasped through the moan. “I — I thought you said you wouldn’t do anything.”

“That was before I saw how lackluster your methods were.”

“My meth —“ You bit your lip as Levi’s finger grazed your clit. “I — I hardly see how this is supposed to help me get clean, captain.”

At the title, Levi groaned in your ear, lips brushing against your shoulder.

You ignored the thrum of pleasure in your cunt. “Why would I need to be — ah — clean from the inside?”

“Quiet.” His finger threatened to slip into your moist entrance, your natural slick assisting in this endeavor. “If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t be asking that.”

“I don’t think —“

“If you had a problem, you wouldn’t be fucking drenched, either.”

“Ah …” Your forehead thudded against the wall, your skin hot. Everything hot. You couldn’t argue; even the shower water couldn’t wash away evidence of your want. 

“And now you’re gonna make an even bigger fucking mess, aren’t you?”

Despite the haranguing, Levi only pressed closer, the fabric of his jacket adding friction to your damp skin. His finger teased the ring of your entrance, teasing, daring.

You moaned when Levi abandoned your hole to concentrate on teasing your clit. He tended to it with the slightest touch, so removed you began to think his touch only imagined. 

“I — I’m too achy to —“

“Do you ever shut up?” Levi snapped. “I’ve already told you.” His lips were at your ear now, his chin sitting in the crook of your neck. “Not asking for you to reciprocate. Just let me do it …”

You gripped Levi’s forearms as his finger slipped past the ring of your entrance with shameful ease. You bent forward, squeezing your legs around his hand. Your lips parted with a shuddering moan when his fingertips brushed the roof of your g-spot growing ever jagged.

“Didn’t think it would be this easy,” he spoke into your ear. “Just letting me in, hm? Fucking freak …”

You looked over your shoulder to Levi already staring at you. You did not need this. You did not need Levi, wet and close and hair dangling in his gorgeous face, mocking you.

Another finger slid in to meet the first. You clawed at the shower wall, growing feral.  

Levi withdrew them.

“Wait,” You murmured. “What?”

His brows furrowed. “Do you want this?”

You scoffed. “Really?” 

He studied your face. “Wanted to be sure,” he murmured, his arms caging you in.

You turned to face him. You pressed into him, your forehead meeting his. After all this, now he asked? But a part of you was endeared by his asking. Despite his foul mouth and gruff disposition, you didn’t fear him. 

You found his hand and guided it back to your wanting cunt. “Yes.”

Not needing to be told twice, Levi hand roped to your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. You weren’t caught by surprise; you opened your mouth for him to explore while his two fingers returned to their mission of exploring you. His groan caught in your mouth and went straight to your cunt, inciting a new layer of slick to coat Levi’s fingers.

“Thought so,” he muttered into your mouth. He abandoned your mouth just as he invited a third finger into your weeping hole, his lips traversing the length of your jaw. 

You were a moaning, sobbing mess, grinding against his fingers. You couldn’t take all this stroking, probing, stretching. The shower water pebbled your skin, the incessant dribble sensitizing your heated skin. Levi was driving his fingers into you now, assaulting the tender spot within to drive you feral. You entwined a leg around his with a whimper, your head falling against the wall to widen the expanse of skin Levi’s lips could torment. His thumb tweaked randomly at your clit, the uncertainty of when he would reward the nub with attention only driving you further toward the edge of the cliff. He nibbled, bit into your neck and you all but jumped into his arms, all dignity forgotten.

“Go ahead,” he said when you squeezed his digits, your breathing heavy on his shoulder, “bet you look pretty when you come.”

His voice, as though your climax was the most predictable thing in the world, sent you over the edge. With an onset of broken moans you came, nearly ripping the arms from Levi’s jacket as he finger-fucked you through your orgasm. You drenched his fingers, saw through vision bleared by water and steam and drowse, how they had turned pruney playing in your snatch once Levi at last pulled them out of you. He held you up with a hand, your legs turned boneless and useless under your lasting throes. 

Levi inspected his fingers as you caught your breath. He bent down to retrieve your abandoned washcloth and wiped his fingers clean. 

“Levi …” You murmured as he did it, your senses returning slowly but surely. “What …?”

He turned back to you, fixing your back against the wall again as he captured your mouth in another kiss, not as rough as the first, but affirmative. A statement. He withdrew and you, eyes closed, followed him until you realized he was truly through with the kiss and opened your eyes. 

He wiggled his fingers, almost to taunt you. “I was right,” he said, a flicker of a smirk there. “Fucking pretty.”

You’d lost all control over your life. 

Afterwards, you often found yourself frequenting the same spaces with Levi, places you were meant to be cleaning but would end up as sanctuaries so Levi might fuck you into oblivion inside them.

More than once you’d cried out as he crashed you into the wall, arms wrapped around each other, passion overcoming dull reason always.

“Levi!”

“Keep it down!” he would hiss in your ear before nibbling the lobe attached. “Want the whole headquarters to hear us fucking?”

And then you would clean. Thoroughly. Meticulously. There were never any traces of your sudden trysts, you both made sure of that.

What was happening? You weren’t sure. It wasn’t as if you were suddenly the captain’s girlfriend or something. Right?

Right?

… Right?

“Are you the captain’s girlfriend?”

You startled away from Potato Girl, who had somehow materialized by your side, nearly falling off the step you sat on in the process. 

“Sasha!” Jean Kirstein reprimanded. He graced you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her.” To Sasha: “You can’t just sneak up on people you don’t know and ask them —“

“But it’s clear something’s going on, isn’t it?” Sasha said. “I heard Mike say the other day that —!”

“No!” You cried. Do these fuckers do anything but gossip? You were reminded of your grandmother, who had once said the military was nothing but death and gossip. “No, you — you don’t understand. The captain and I — we’re just friends. We like cleaning, that’s all.”

Jean’s blush belied his nod toward you. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Sasha said. “Captain Levi would fall head over heels for a girl who can clean as well as you!”

Jean ran a hand over his face. “Sasha …” Exasperation made his voice heavy.

“It’s okay,” You assured him before turning to Sasha with a smile, your voice fit for addressing a child when you said, “The truth is, I don’t know why Captain Levi’s taken such a liking to me. I’m just happy to make him proud. But I promise: nothing untoward has ever occurred between the captain and myself.”

How well you could lie through your teeth. Should you be proud or ashamed? Untoward … Levi’s fingers sank into your cunt; his cockhead twitching on your cervix; a mouth full of —

Boy, could you lie.

Sasha scrutinized your face. Seemingly satisfied, she said, with a disappointed dip in her voice, “All right. But tell us if that changes! We want the best for the captain and only want him to be happy!”

Strangely heartwarmed by her comment, you nodded to the both of them. “You got it!” 

And you’d thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t; you were doomed to have a couple more run-ins with members of the Special Operations: a few cadets once eyed you surreptitiously in the hallway. And on the last day of the week while on your way to dust the shelves of the library, a little blonde boy caught sight of you and promptly scurried away, a book tucked in his armpit, leaving the library hilariously bare.

“Oh, come on!” You said, the lack of people affording you moxy. “If I was really fucking a captain, don’t you think I’d have gotten a raise by now? Hello?!”

“You wanted to see me, Commander?”

Levi shut the door. The moment Levi walked into the Commander’s office, he knew what he was in for. Erwin wasn’t alone; Hange was ready to bounce off the walls. Mike looked like he was suppressing some laughs. Levi let himself in; eyes made of ice appraised his every step.

“Have a seat, Levi,” was all Erwin said, and once he did the man knitted his fingers together. “I’ve heard rumors.”

“Tch, didn’t think you were the type to listen to shitty gossip.”

“More than rumors, I would say.”

Levi raised his brows to encourage elaboration.

“There have been complaints.”

“Of?”

“You and some cleaning girl hooking up!” Hange cried out — happily. 

Without a beat, Levi tilted his head: “What?”

“There has been a shortage in cleaning supplies,” Erwin said. “Some cadets have complained about headaches. Some have reported breathing issues. Some have fainted.”

Levi glared. “They’re allergic to everything except filth, then?”

“I’m told chemicals from the cleaning solutions are the cause,” Erwin continued, leafing through what could only be reports from this very issue.

“The morons can always open a fucking window.”

“Still, there’s such a thing as too clean, Levi,” Erwin said. “Some have begun to speculate why there’s been such an uptick in cleanliness. It seems … suspicious.”

“Tch.”

Erwin’s eyes flicked upward expectantly. “I’ve not heard you deny anything.”

“There’s nothing to deny.” Levi crossed his legs. “I help her clean when I have the time, that’s it.”

Hange squealed. “Oh, this is fascinating —!”

“ — You’d think so,” Levi shifted his glare toward her.

“A friendship forged from alcohol!” Hange chirped. “I’m such a fool; I should’ve predicted something like this would happen!”

“Nothing’s happened, you fucking weirdo,” Levi said.

Mike had failed to comment thus far, sticking to his corner of the room, but his shoulders rumbled with hushed laughs. Fucking prick.

“Hm?” Hange stood. “Oh really? Tell me, then: If you’re just cleaning, why are there reports of moving furniture?” 

“We have to move furniture to get to spots people forget to clean, moron,” Levi said pointedly, crossing arms now. “If these idiots spent as much time training as they did gossiping, fewer of them would be eaten every expedition.”

“Nevertheless, we can’t have you and this girl making hazardous gases in your attempts to clean headquarters,” Erwin said. “Be more discriminate with how you use your supplies. I don’t want to hear any more complaints about this, am I understood?”

A curt nod from Levi. 

A snort from Mike. “I bet she’s cute.”

“I bet you’d look better without a nose, Mike,” Levi said, standing. “And, Commander, I think you should address some of the rumors concerning yourself.”

It was Erwin’s turn to raise his fatass eyebrows. “Pardon?”

“I don’t know.” Levi was already striding toward the door. “Something about you and some nurse.” He turned back to Erwin, hand on the knob. “Can’t be true, can it?”

Hange gasped. Mike choked. Erwin himself, surprising no one, moved not an inch, only dug knives into Levi’s disappearing back as he considered himself excused and shut the door behind him.

He wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t lose his cleaning fuck buddy. Not now. Not ever. No one had understood his desire to eradicate filth as well as you.

He would just have to have a little conversation with you.

“You make too much noise.” 

Hardly the statement you were looking forward to. Where was you feel so good? Your precious good girl?

You broke the kiss, subtracting your tongue from inside Levi’s mouth, to stare at him crookedly. 

“Come again?” 

“S’you,” Levi said, the flush coloring his face as conspicuous as day. “People are talking around these shitty barracks. We’ll have to cool it if you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut.”

You snorted while resuming your task: unbuttoning Levi’s shirt. You dipped forward to snatch one button between your teeth where it waited to be chewed off. You broke away to nibble at the skin beyond it once it snapped open. “Shut me up then.”

“Fuck …” Levi said in response to your slutty hips swinging into his, your teeth leaving love bites over his protruding collar. “Do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“This is your fault, you know?” You ground your hips into Levi’s obvious erection and was promptly rewarded with a delicious groan. His hand came around to grip the fat of your ass. You licked a wet strip onto his neck before nibbling the skin there. “If you didn’t” — another swing of your hips, another groan from Levi — “fuck me so good, my volume wouldn’t be such a problem.” 

“Not apologizing.” 

You leveled your face with his. “Then we’re at an impasse.” And you kissed him, slotting your tongue back into place above his. 

Levi stole air from your mouth when your hand slotted between the two of you, found the heavy imprint of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. Levi pressed you closer to him, a firm grip on your ass. He swiped up at your tongue before nibbling on your lower lip and repeating the action with its twin. 

“You really want your slutty mouth exposing us to the world?” Levi grumbled, no doubt begrudgingly aware of how his cock twitched in your hold. 

“I really don’t care,” You said. “But I guess I don’t have as much to lose, right, Captain?” 

He jerked you away by the back of your head, hand fisted in your hair. “You’re out of line.”

A grumble in his throat at the sight of your tongue running over your lip. 

“Says the man who walked in on me showering.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed, as if to say touche.

“Maybe you’re right.” He met your eye, fixing his face neutral. “Maybe I need to shut you up.”

“Oh.” You wiggled your brows. “Levi.”

“On your knees.”

You giggled — stifled it when Levi tapped your cheek with barely any force but enough to threaten a harder hand in the future. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, brat.” 

And so you sank, remaining eye contact as you sat on your knees and fiddled with the buckle of Levi’s pants. You freed his cock, was rewarded with a soft grunt from him — and one slightly louder when you fed his cock into your mouth, wiggling your eyebrows at him again. 

“Even with your mouth stuffed with my cock, you’re still giving me attitude?” Levi huffed, but there was no bite to it.

The edge of your mouth quirked before focusing on your task. You gave Levi a hard, fruitful suck before releasing him with a loud, wet pop! to run the flat of your tongue down the underside of his cock. From base to tip. Base to tip. You swallowed him again, hollowing your cheeks to work his cock. Excitement flushed your cunt as Levi’s grunts filled the air, and your fingers itched to sneak down and play with your juicing folds. 

A groan from Levi. An encouraging hand met the back of your head. “Fuck, good, little brat …” His hanging his head back sent your cunt clenching at nothing.

You released him, curled stroking fingers around his shaft. “Who’s the loud one now?” You teased with a smirk — 

You gasped when Levi’s hand swatted your cheek. Harder than before. A tepid warning.

“Finish what you started.”

You opened your mouth to get smart with him, only for the hand straddling the back of your head to pull you forward; Levi’s cock tumbled back into your mouth. 

Your eyes fluttered closed. Your hands stroked the end of his shaft, pubic hair tickling your pinkie, as your mouth lay preoccupied with the rest. Levi’s sounds impelled you to move faster. You didn’t care about the aching pain in your jaw or your screaming knees on the wooden floor. You sucked for those sounds, for the power you held over him in that moment. 

“This is a better look for you anyway,” Levi said — hissed as one hand came to cling to his naked thighs, the other thumbing at his ball sack. “Fuck, clean my cock, brat.”

You weren’t his brat. Nor were you one of his cadets he ordered around, but your cunt fluttered around the words all the same. The way he was so determined to playfully shame you, when he was the one to jump you and sink his fingers into your cunt? 

Levi assisted in your head bobbing, his fingers nestled in your hair. “Give it a spit shine, show me how fucking good you are at your job, cumdump.”

You parted with his cock to obey, to spit on the veiny shaft. You thinned out the spit with your palm before introducing him back into your mouth. You moaned around Levi’s cock, the vibrations around his member causing him to do the same. 

Fuck. You couldn’t take it; you led a hand between your thighs, startled at how sensitive you were to your own touch when your fingers circled against the damp clutch of your panties. 

“Playing with yourself while you suck me off …” He hissed when you sank forward, his cockhead tickling, threatening the sanctity of your uvula. “Depraved little slut.”

Levi clutched your head firmer to steady you and started thoroughly fucking your mouth. You gasped, choked, the rapid tousling of your head clouding your senses. Your eyes pebbled with tears. You ran a fingertip down your clothed slit, the seam of your panties wet from your want. You moaned as Levi did. Your lips tightened around the span of him. You raised to the challenge, sucking harshly as he bucked into your willing mouth. 

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed. You cracked an eye open to see Levi’s hips stutter, his other hand bracing against the table.

“Mmm!” You were so hot. You worked your clit harder before realizing you didn’t have to cheat yourself slid a hand past the elastic of your panties, slipping fingers through your folds. 

“Don’t you dare flake on me,” Levi said. “We just cleaned these floors; take every last drop.”

You didn’t need him to tell you what to do; you knew your role now. Levi slowed his pace to allow you to take over. You rose on your knees, gripped one of his ass cheeks to hold him close. A soft gasp from Levi as you ran your tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock, coaxing him to coming. You felt it twitch, excited and abused in your hot, wet mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck —“ Levi growled, gripped the side of the table. “Every drop, you little cumcatcher —!”

Levi fisted your hand as he spilled into your mouth. You closed your eyes to it, clinging to his shaft to pull him back and allow your mouth much needed space. Levi fed you his pants, his hurried breaths quickening your heart. His cockhead sat on the flat of your tongue while ropes of cum ran down the length of it. You obeyed his command, swallowing every drop, letting him use you as the little cum dispenser he wanted you to be. You wanted to be for him.

Your jaw screamed with relief when Levi left your mouth. A bridge of saliva connected you to his spent member and you promptly wiped it away before it could threaten the sanctity of Levi’s perfectly polished floors.

He looked down at you, his stoicism softened by fondness. He stroked the cheek he’d previously abused. “Good girl.”

You purred. “Only for you.”

“Hm.”

You stood and pecked him inches above his ever-scowling eyebrow. “That’s all you have to say? After all that huffing and puffing you —?”

Levi’s hand met the back of your neck and pulled you close, glaring right into your eyes. “You’re running your shitty fucking mouth before I can even reward you.”

Your brow raised in interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Levi jerked his head toward his bedroom. “Let’s finish this.”

You gaped in surprise. “But we just cleaned the sheets!”

“And you’re not about to get them dirty again. Right?” Levi stared pointedly at you before leaning into your throat, giving it a soft but prompt nibble. He pulled away as you hummed. “Right?”

You ran your tongue over your lip, batting intrigued eyes at him for a second. He really was an eccentric weirdo. You wordlessly complied, strolling into the bedroom to get into place for him. Levi followed, pulling you toward him. One hand yanked you to him by your shirt, dragging you into a kiss. You gasped at the sudden action. His force pressed the bed into the back of your knees and you clumsily sat. Levi worked your shirt away before hooking a hand down the elastic of both your trousers and panties. 

He peered down at your lower half, mildly amused. “Bet you’re already dripping after playing with yourself while sucking me off, fucking freak …”

You giggled, your rebuttal your raised, pruney fingers. 

Levi gripped your wrist. “Filthy …” He brought your fingers to his mouth — jerked the two articles of clothing fisted in his grip to hook at the back of your knees. The tiniest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips at your widened eyes, your tiny gasp.

Levi tossed away your clothes. He slotted into the new space between your legs. You ran your fingers over his plump lower lip as he fished for his cock, and pride flared in you to feel he was already hard again, your teasing sufficient enough to make him stand at attention.

“We — ahh …” You furrowed your brows at the feel of Levi’s cock sheathing inside you. You sighed. Tried again. “We’re going to make a mess for sure.”

“We’re not going to make a mess,” Levi corrected before inserting himself fully, thrusting to the hilt and, over your moan, “You’re going to take it.”

You didn’t wonder because you didn’t need to; his tacit answer, coming in the form of another pointed look up at you, had been enough for understanding to flourish like moss on stone. He was going to fill you up, leave you so full of his cum he would surely pull out of you squeaky clean, every precaution you might’ve taken against pregnancy be damned. The insinuation sent flutters to your cunt you were sure Levi could feel around his cock, were sure he could feel the effect he had on you. Your final confirmation being that he was still fully clothed, as though confident you would not sully him even as he ruined you.  

Levi quickened his pace in such a way you were forced to grab ahold to his shoulders. “Fu — Is that so? Mm!”

“Yeah — fuck,” Levi muttered in your ear. “As you said, we just fucking cleaned these sheets, and there’s no way they’re getting dirty again just because you can’t control your disgusting sobbing snatch.”

You wanted to slap him — wanted to throw his insults and his eager cock in his face — and your hand itched to do so, but as he found his rhythm you couldn’t; he fucked you hard into the mattress, barely breaking a sweat as he barreled into you. A hand flew to constrict your throat, sinking you down further and thus making it easier for him to bully into you. Levi brought his face close to yours as his hips went wild, giving you a taste of that Ackerman strength you had heard so much about.

“Ah — uh —!” You moaned, your eyes falling closed as your mouth slacked wide. “Levi — Levi!” 

You cracked eyes open to see Levi’s face strained from his efforts above you. Another flutter down below struck to see how much of an effect you were having on him. You loved him like this; the sarcastic, stoic know-it-all you’d come to know melting away until he was just a man enthralled with your pussy. You looped arms around his, bracing your hands at his back. A hand grazed your mons pubic and three fingers at your clit had you choking a moan. 

“Come on,” You urged. “Oh.” You shuddered when Levi flicked at your clit every which way in response. “I’ll be such a good girl for you and take it, mm …”

“Fucking noisy brat, nrgh!” The hand Levi had roped over your throat tightened. “Using my own words against me …”

First your arms then your legs wrapped around him — only to aid in flipping him on his back. The world whirled around you as you came out on top. Levi choked back a sound of surprise as you mounted him. You looked down at him with a smirk.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” He said, an aimless hand groping at your tit.

“Being a good girl.” You let yourself down on him, basked in the triumph coming in the form of Levi’s relieved groan beneath you. “I wanna show you how good I can take it.”

Levi’s face contorted in an almost-glare he soon realized he had not the energy for when you planted hands on his chest, rebellious fingers discreetly tweaking his nipples through his uniform as you found purchase, and began to bounce on him. His eyes shut, brows furrowed as the round of your ass routinely slapped against his thighs. 

“Fuuuck.” Nails left crescent moons of your thighs. “Feels good, ugh …!” 

“Anything for you, Captain —“

“Don’t call me that.” Levi grasped harder at the junction between your thigh and ass. 

“Why?” You paused, sitting on him, opting to squeeze around him as you did so. Levi grunted, bucked up in response. “It doesn’t have an effect, does it?” 

“Fuck, read the room —“ Levi’s eyes trained on where you two met in the middle, your sopping snatch routinely coming to devour him. “Clearly, I’m not your captain, otherwise — urgh!” 

You kept fucking against him, surprised by both the agility and stamina you seemed to have in this moment. Levi’s cock split you open so good, so completely. It was growing increasingly hard to tease him as you felt yourself getting close. So close. Levi slapped your ass before taking a handful and tugging you forward. You fell onto him.

“Otherwise — oh — what?” You asked, your faces now so close as to have your noses rubbing. “You won’t let me drain your cock of every last drop?” 

Levi’s knuckles had to be white from how tight his hold now was on you. He groaned, biting down on his lip as his forehead met yours. 

“I don’t care about the rules,” You said, voice sounding more desperate than was your intent due to your cresting release. “You’re my captain, so I’m gonna — oh! — be a good girl and fuck my captain until he’s fucked dry from my cunt —“

A sound of utter frustration from Levi and his hands were bruising your hips. Hard. He fucked up into you, slamming you down onto him, and every time he met you half way. Now you held onto his shoulders for fear of falling off, too hazed from lust and pleasure to register that as a foolish notion; like Levi would ever let you fall. Like he would ever let you go.

You fisted one hand into the sheets, meeting Levi’s upward thrusts however you could. Teasing words devolved into endless grunts and moans. You exchanged breaths before you remembered you could kiss him and did, kissing him hard as your last threads of sanity snapped and you clenched wildly down onto him. 

You moaned into Levi’s mouth as you came. You gripped his cock with your cunt again, again, and felt Levi come undone underneath you only seconds later. Warm, thick ropes of cum spilled into you and you stilled on top of him, sitting flat, then grinding your hips, your clit rocking into his abdomen rug-burned by his pubic hair. The sensation added another shock of pleasure as you came undone. 

Levi was determined to fuck you through it. With strength you didn’t think he still had, he flipped you over and proceeded to fuck his come into you, the length of his shaft coated white with your juices and his. Another thrust and he slammed into you without retreating, holding there. 

“Levi …” You moaned out. You felt him move and whined; you weren’t ready for him to leave you, to be empty. 

But the second Levi pulled out, he replaced what you’d lost with his fingers, ensuring his spent be left inside.

“Oh, fuck, Le …!” You shuddered, too overstimulated to submit to Levi’s fingers rubbing up against your spot.

“Quiet,” he murmured. “You’re a good girl, remember? Don’t wanna hear it …”

You bit your lip, nearly ripped the sheets from their corners as he stimulated you from inside. Finally, he withdrew his fingers, certain his spent had taken with you.

“Phew.” Eyes closed, you fell back into the pillow, too blissed out to articulate much more. 

The mattress depressed at your side and you knew Levi was there, trailing kisses up your arm. Once in the crook of your neck, “Good girl.”

You hummed as Levi relaxed beside you. Despite his claims, you knew there was no way the sheets hadn’t been tainted — by sweat, by juice if not by his cum — and Levi would have you rip the sheets from their corners and wash them. He’d watch to see what kind of detergent you would choose, testing to see if your skills were up to par with his. And perhaps he would fuck you in the laundry room while the sheets dried. Maybe he would fuck into you from behind while you made the bed. Whatever it was, you were game. Always. When and if it was with him.

While your mind swam with sordid thoughts, Levi spoke up:

“What do you want?”

You propped up on an elbow, facing him. “Hm?”

“Us.” He turned to you, stoic expression having returned, but his eyes ever watchful. “What do you want out of this?”

You smiled. “I … want a partner. Someone to share things with.” You sought out his hand to entwine your fingers with his and, to your surprise, he reciprocated the gesture after a second or two. “But it doesn’t have to be serious. Or public.”

“Hm.” Levi nodded. You always got the sense he was testing you, somehow, both in and out of bed. The romantic in you wanted to believe it was because he feared hurting you, feared pushing you beyond your limits. “I think that would be best for now.” 

Fuck buddies it is.

“We should work on these sheets,” Levi said. “It’s not too late. We could have them dried before midnight.” He eyed you with challenge. “If you’re not too tired?”

You thought of your previous fantasies. Perhaps you would be the one to initiate this time?

You smirked. “You’re on.” 

[moonstruckme]

hi mum can we get more dr rem PLEASE :3

Always pookie <3

cw: implicit nausea and vomit, no description

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

The sound of his voice makes you smile even in your sorry state. “Hi, Remus.” 

“Hi.” Something softens in his tone; you like to think he’s smiling too. “I’m not late to pick you up, am I? I’ve only just got home from work.” 

“No, so did I.” You lean your forehead on the cool ceramic of your toilet tank, thanking your past self for having cleaned it just yesterday. “I actually…I’m sorry, I think I’m going to need a raincheck.” 

A pause. “Oh.” You wince at the disappointment in his voice. “That’s too bad. Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, I think I’ve just caught a bug,” you say. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much fun.” 

“You’re always fun,” Remus replies warmly, and you smile. “Are you not feeling well?” 

“Not great,” you hedge. You’ve been dating Remus long enough to know how he worries, and you don’t want that. “I’ll live, though. Maybe we can meet later in the week?” 

“Or,” he says, low and coaxing, “I could come over now and make you some soup.” 

You almost sigh, it sounds so nice. What you wouldn’t give to have him rub your back, carry you to bed and press a kiss to your brow. But you’re a mess right now, and you’re trying to save him from it. 

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” you say reluctantly. “Anyway, it’s not that kind of sick.” 

“Tell me your symptoms.”

“Ew,” you laugh. “Take me to dinner first, Lupin.”

“Well, I did try,” he says, and you can almost hear his smile through the phone. It catches just as easily as it does in person. “Seriously, love, how do you feel? Do you know what it is?” 

“Not necessarily, but it’s really not bad. I just don’t want to infect you.” 

“I could probably help.”

“But when you got sick I’d feel awful,” you tell him sincerely. “Thank you, but really, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a ring when I’m no longer a biohazard, okay?” 

Remus harrumphs, but when he speaks his voice still crackles with fondness. “Alright.” 

“Thanks. Bye.” 

You hear him echo you as you lower the phone from your ear, setting it on the bathroom floor before following it down. You don’t feel secure enough in your stomach to leave the toilet just yet, so you curl up on the small mat by the shower and succumb to the exhaustion that’s been chasing you since lunchtime. 

~~~

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

You wake to a warm hand on your even warmer shoulder, startling a bit as you pull your face from the rug. Remus is looking down at you with an awful little crease between his brows. 

“Remus?” you ask, just to be sure. 

“Hi,” he says softly. “You didn’t sound this bad over the phone, you know. I’d have rushed if I knew you were about to take a nap on the floor.” 

You blink, trying to clear the fog from your brain. “How’d you get in here?” 

“You showed me the spare key when I took care of your plants, remember?” Remus looks a bit sorry, wedging a hand underneath your ribs to encourage you sitting up. “I did try to call, but I think you must have slept through it.” 

“Oh,” you murmur, getting upright and crossing your legs underneath you awkwardly.

He smiles thinly and sets a hand to your forehead. The gesture feels oddly intimate. You’ve slept with this man, met his friends, shown him where you keep your spare key, and somehow this feels intimate.

Remus makes a terribly lovely cooing sound. You think you might just die right here. 

“You’re burning,” he says worriedly. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

“Since about lunch,” you admit. 

“Yeah?” He frowns, cupping your face in the basin of his palm. “How’d you fare at work?” 

“I got sick in the bathroom, but then I just finished out the day.” Remus’ frown is starting to look mortifyingly near to a pout. “It wasn’t this bad then, I don’t think. It got worse once I was home.” 

He hums. “Do you know how you caught it?” 

You glance at the toilet, horrified at the sight of your unflushed sick inside. “Some of my coworkers went home sick, but…look, Remus, it was really nice of you to come, but you don’t have to be here.” You say this with your cheek tucked into his palm, soaking up the feeling of his touch. “It’s way too early for you to see me like this.” 

“Oh?” One corner of his mouth twitches, but he keeps his expression curious. “Why’s that?” 

“Because…because.” You try to imbue your tone with some sternness. “It’s the standard progression of things. Peeing together, saying I love you, then you see me when I’m sick.” 

Remus nods, humming pensively. His thumb strokes at your cheek. “You want to pee together before saying I love you? That’s interesting.” 

You feel your face heat, which you didn’t know was even possible at this point. You thought surely you’d maxed out. “I’m serious.” 

“Alright,” he says. Soft, pacifying. “All that notwithstanding, I’m afraid I can’t leave you like this, lovely girl. I’ll avert my eyes if you want me to, but I’m really not too worried about seeing you any way you can be, so I think it might be easier on you if you didn’t worry about it either.” 

You wither. “But I’m gross.” 

He frowns. “You’re not. You’re just not feeling your best right now, and that’s fine. Let me take care of you.” 

You look at him for a few moments, and Remus looks back. His amber stare is steady. Finally, you give in to your more pathetic urges and nod. 

“Alright.” He gives your cheek another tender stroke. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick again now?” 

“No,” you say meekly. It feels weird to discuss these things with him, but Remus acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

“Perfect. Think you can make it to bed?” 

You definitely can, but Remus still walks you the whole way, one arm around your waist and his attention cautiously on your feet should you stumble. He gets you situated under the covers, forbidding more than one blanket until your fever comes down, and goes back into the bathroom to get the supplies he’d brought with him. 

You hear the toilet flush and cringe, but he comes back out like nothing happened. 

“I wasn’t sure what to bring since you wouldn't tell me what you had on the phone,” there’s a bit of light admonishment to his tone as he sits on the edge of your mattress with a paper bag, “so I brought most of my medicine cabinet. Do you want some anti-nausea, or are you still alright for now?” 

“Yes, please,” you say in a small voice. Remus passes you a cup of water before shaking a pill into his hand. He watches as you take it. 

“You’re going to want to keep taking small sips of that,” he tells you. “It sounds like you’re right and it’s just a stomach bug, so we’ll probably keep you off solid foods for a little while. You just let me know when you’re feeling up to some crackers or something, okay?” 

“Okay,” you echo him. Your heart suddenly feels as warm and tender as if your fever were affecting it, too. You’re enamored with the idea that you could go to sleep, right now, and Remus would still be here to take care of you when you wake up. He’d probably hold your hand if you asked, or read you something, or just sit with you if that was what you wanted. It makes you feel pathetically teary to think of being so cared for. 

Something shifts in Remus’ expression. He looks at you more closely, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. 

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Just, thanks for coming.”

Remus smiles. “Changing our minds about the standard progression of things, are we?” But before you get a chance to hide under your covers and never come out, he leans forward, kissing your cheek. “Don’t mention it.”

[yamada-ryo]

The only thing worse than finding an unflushed toilet is finding an unflushed toilet with a turd but no toilet paper in it. To be acutely aware that someone amongst ourselves didn't wipe their butt. They just pooped and got up.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for leaving an unflushable poo in someone's toilet? ....This one is gross. Sorry.

I have diverticulitis, which is... a bathroom issue. They thought it was Crohn's for a long time, and many incompetent doctors + health complications later, they found out I had an enormous abscess and a golfball-sized fistula growing inside my colon. As you can imagine, this comes with a plethora of issues I am too embarrassed to divulge in their entirety.

This event happened before I had the abscess surgically removed, so I was mid 20s at the time. A friend set me up with this guy I had met once before at a party (J). It was practically a blind date. Things went well and we went back to his house.

Then it happened.

The gurgling. The pain. I told him I needed to go to the bathroom. As luck would have it, this was the WORST bathroom emergency I have ever had in my entire life. I shat more than I have ever shat. I was worried parts of my body would escape out of me and I would somehow reverse-hungry-caterpillar myself into nothingness.

I spent so long doing the deed and trying to clean it up, it must have been around 2 full hours, and we were both reasonably drunk - so when I went to peek my head in the living room, he was asleep. I tried again to plunge this beast back from whence it came. I was crying. It's quite funny in hindsight but as you can imagine, easily one of the worst humiliations I have ever endured. At one point, I had my HAND and FOREARM down this guy's toilet trying to set free the freakish poobaby I had just conceived in his otherwise impeccable loo (a fancy one with BUTTONS instead of a flush handle!). I even took the top off the toilet and tried to... hand-pump the water, I guess? Desperation.

I finally gave up. The whole room stank like sulfur and purse-sized citrus bodyspray so I cracked the window and cleaned up the best I could. I realized that it was, at this point, best left to a professional plumber, or perhaps an exorcist. I was younger and embarrassed and opted to go home, leaving nothing but a foul scent trail and a very small note (Later referred to by my friends as the Ghost Shitter Calling Card) written on a toilet paper square that said "oops" because I guess I thought that would be funny and maybe soften the blow. It was decidedly Not Funny, however, and to my surprise, he never made me foot the plumbing bill, but he did politely tell me that he was uninterested in going out again. Not that I blame him.

Lots of crying and shame later, and after getting my issues fixed via surgery, I am now wondering if there was a better course of action here. My friends do love this story but some of them have mentioned they would be LIVID if somebody did that to them. I know I am probably the asshole for leaving it like that. I really did try my best, and I do believe any people on here with less-than-ladylike health issues will at least partially understand what it's like, and what I was thinking at the time.

TLDR I clogged my date's toilet and left it like that since he fell asleep. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 18: Tomorrow

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 17

Present Day, May 1987

Julie sits down at her lunch table, unpacking her lunch and picking at the bread of her sandwich. Wondering if today is the day where she can eat all of it. Instead of just taking a few bites and throwing the rest out. Preferring to pick at the other snacks in her lunch than eat something in whole.

Hoping that she can just start acting normally again instead of really fucking weird. That when El asks her a question, she can respond without stuttering. Without reacting. That her cheeks will remain unflushed when El inevitably gives her a compliment. Her hand will stop fidgeting while she sits there, waiting for something to happen. Act nonchalant. Like nothing is wrong.

Even though a lot is. Her mind battles each day with thoughts that she doesn’t want to have. She didn’t ask for this feeling to come. Nor did she want it. But it’s here and she can’t’ seem to get rid of it. No matter how hard she tried. And she tried.

She tried doing something every time she thought of El. Something monotonous, something she hates. Like doing the dishes or taking out the garbage. To make some association in her mind that would make the crush more unfavorable than it already is.

She tried avoiding being alone with El. Only hanging out with other people around so Julie could fade into the background. There would be other things to focus on then. Things to distract from the thoughts that gave her butterflies.

She tried just ignoring it. Every time Julie thought of El, she pushed it down in the depths of her mind and tied it up. Trying to get it out of the way, hoping to leave it there to rot. But without fail, it managed to return a million times worse than it had been before.

The thing was, no matter what, it never worked. Doing the monotonous tasks only left space in Julie’s brain to wander. Think of something funny El said that made her laugh. No matter what, El made sure Julie didn’t fade into the background. Always pulling Julie to sit next to her, engaging in conversation. Falling behind with Julie when she was trailing behind the group. And ignoring it just flat out didn’t work.

It's a crazy thing. Now that’s it’s happening, Julie can say that she’s never had a crush like this one before. One where the laughter sticks in her mind so much that she tries her best to draw it out. Where the smiles shine a bit brighter than they did before, and the most miniscule of touches ignites her heart. Makes the blood rush to her cheeks and forces Julie to curl into herself. Turn away.

No one can know that this is happening. No one can know that Julie is like this. She doesn’t want to be ostracized from the only friend group she’s ever had.

Not that she thinks they would care that she likes girls. She actually knows that they would be ok with it. With half of them already asking her when Steve and Eddie are going to finally admit that they are dating, to Will coming out as gay a few weeks ago, it would be positive. What’s different is this crush on El. She doesn’t know how they would react to that. How El would react to that.

The thing about her place in this friend group is that it’s not cemented like the rest of them. They all have some sort of bond that Julie doesn’t understand. Probably will never understand. Something that connects them beyond years of friendship. Something deeper.

It’s probably connected to when Will went missing a few years ago, or to the mall fire that they were all present for. Or something completely different that makes Steve scream out in the middle of the night. Makes Robin’s or Eddie’s, sometimes even one of the kids’, voices shake when they call in the middle of the night, begging for Steve to answer. Something Julie’s grateful that she didn’t have to witness but wonder what it really was.

What was the bed thing that El couldn’t tell her that night? Why was it so bad that she’s better off not knowing? And how did these kids become so unfortunate to witness it all?

“Your hair looks nice today, Julie,” El compliments as she sits down.

She’s wrong. Julie’s hair is pulled back in a French braid, hoping that it hides the fact that she hasn’t washed it in days. The same things she’s been doing for the past few weeks. Still, her head ducks to hide the red of her cheeks.

“Thanks,” she mutters. Taking a bite of her sandwich to stop herself from talking more.

The rest of the group sits around them. Dustin sits next to Julie, probably to bug her about the next book he’s forcing her to read. Well, not forcing. They apparently have very similar reading tastes. But she’s not really listening. Stuck in some form of trance. Feeling weird about herself and staring.

It just happens to be at the person sitting across from her. That’s what she tells herself. It's not because of everything else. Definitely not because El’s outfit is really cute, and Julie wants to say something about it but is afraid that it will come off weird. Complimenting a friend is something completely natural. Normal even. But there’s a line she’s afraid of accidentally crossing. So afraid to do anything that would make El suspect that her feelings have changed.

Afraid that anyone will find out that her feelings have changed. She can’t have that happen.

“Julie,” El’s voice breaks her trance. “Can you come?”

Julie blinks, forcing her head to meet El’s eyes. “Sorry?”

“We were going to have a movie night at Max’s house tonight, can you come?”

She swallows the rejection that forms on her tongue. “Uh, sure. Are we going right after school?”

“Yeah,” Max adds. Giving Julie an interesting face. Like she can tell that something’s off with Julie. Hear the uncertainty that runs through her voice. “Some of us already have rides if you need one.”

Julie feels her body stiffening, trying to act normal. This is anything but normal. “Uh, yeah, I would. I biked here today.”

The bell rings, saving her from any other awkward interactions. She gets up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and rushing out the door. Throwing away the mostly untouched lunch on her way out.

There’s a tap on her shoulder before she makes it too far. Dustin giving her a look like he’s trying to read whatever’s going on in her head. “Are you ok, you seem off?”

Julie nods, not selling anything. “Yep, totally ok. That's for checking in.”

She turns on her heel and rushes down the hallway to her next class before he can get in another question.

. . .

Steve gets home before Julie. Heats himself up some leftovers for dinner and settles on their new couch in front of the TV. Relaxes after a long day of meetings and telling customers that no, he can’t wave the late fee just because they don’t want to pay it. Telling them very sternly that they could at least rewind the tape if they don’t want to return it on time.

It’s the only reason he’s back so late. He let Robin go home and leave him to finish up the afternoon shift. Helping out the next person working by taking all of the unwound tapes into his office to rewind in there while filling out some paperwork he’s been avoiding. Telling himself that it’ll all be worth it once he gets his paycheck.

When Julie gets home, she drops her backpack on the living room floor, dramatically falling onto the couch with a groan. He snorts, trying to hide it. But honestly, seeing her act more like herself is a relief compared to a few weeks ago.

“It’s not funny,” Julie protests, sitting up. “It is far from funny.”

“You’re right,” Steve says, trying to hold in his laugh. “Long day?”

Julie glares at him. “Yeah, long day. I can barely act right around El and now Dustin has picked up that I’m acting weird and keeps asking me if I’m ok. Which I’m not, but he doesn’t need to know that. And it’s all just,” she makes and explosive gesture in front of her, leaning back into the couch.

“Good luck, he’s not one to let things go.”

“I know. It’s basically a daily thing now asking if you and Eddie are together. Which I had promised to tell him if I knew something was going on. And now I do but it’s not my business to tell him.”

Steve thanks her for that. Not quite sure how and when he’s eventually going to tell the rest of the group about him and Eddie. He promised that as soon as the court case was over, he would. But as that date keeps slowly creeping up on him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be ready for that.

The thing was, once everyone knew about it, it wouldn’t be just his and Eddie’s relationship anymore. There would be the jokes and the talking. The reactions of how everyone thinks about it. Support and surprise. Maybe some disdain. He’s not sure.

Steve has been weird about relationships for a long time. With every relationship, it would spread like wildfire through the high school hallways. Whispers of his night life following him as he walked. At first, he liked it. Wanted the reputation to spread, wore it like the crown that metaphorically rested on his head.

But as he grew up, as his relationships became more intimate. More sacred. He didn’t like the rumors anymore. Sure, he wasn’t one to shy away from PDA. Loved to wear his heart out on his sleeve, show everyone how much a person meant to him.

It was different, though, keeping a relationship a secret. Made it more special in a way he’s never experienced before. With the way this town would react to his relationship, it would always have to be hidden on some level. Kept between their small group of people.

It’s been so long since he’s been in a semi-public relationship. He doesn’t quite know how to go about it anymore.

“Talk to him about that book he lent you, that’ll shut him up for an hour or two.”

Julie sighs. “Don’t you think I’ve tried that.”

“I have nothing else to help here, good luck.”

“It’s not like it’s all that bad. It’s kinda nice to know that he cares enough to check in, make sure everything’s ok. I just wish he knew how to give me some space until I’m ready to talk about it.”

Steve hums. “Yeah, never quite got around to teaching him that.”

He lets the silence fill the room before changing topics. “So, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. And I know you already have a lot to think about, but I want you to just start thinking about this. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”

“Ok,” she says concerned.

“I’ve been talking with Sarah over the last couple of weeks, discussing what the next steps could be if you wanted to move forward with this. But I haven’t really filed for anything yet because I wanted to ask you first.” He takes a deep breath. Nervous for some reason he doesn’t really know. “Would you, maybe, want me to try and get permanent guardianship of you?”

“Yes,” Julie answers without missing a beat. “I would very much want that.”

Steve’s not sure why he thought she would answer any differently. “Ok, good. I would want that too.”

She smiles. “Good. What would that all mean, then?”

“Well, I’d be putting in to be your guardian, officially, until you turn eighteen. Then like everyone else, you’d be an adult and can make your own decision. But it would take going in front of a judge, proving I'm fit to fill that role. Then it would be official.”

Sarah says it would actually be a very smooth and easy process. Since Julie’s much older than most of the kids that go through this, and is already acclimated to living with him, it would be a bad decision not to grant him the guardianship. Plus, with the money that Rebecca left for Julie, she’s pretty much already cared for after high school. Steve just has to worry about getting her through until then.

Which should be fine. Now that he’s finally getting the last of the furniture, the expenses are starting to even out. There’s more money sitting in his account and his savings are starting to grow again. Everything is working out better than he planned them to.

He’s happy in this little house. With Eddie lying next to him on most nights, coming through the door before the sun goes down now that Julie knows. Julie finding her way back to herself after the roll of emotions dies down, becomes less present in her mind. Steve finally letting go of the thoughts that plague his mind, make him think that everything’s going to fall apart the minute he messes up.

And he does, no one’s perfect. But he’s found people that understand that, call him out in a way that’s needed but full of love. Full of understanding.

It’s all that Steve has ever wanted.

“So, you’d be going to court again. For this. I don’t want you to do that if it’s too stressful.”

Steve shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be. Sarah is pretty confident that the judge will look at us for twenty minutes and just sign the papers. And if it’s longer, I don’t care. I want this to happen. I don’t mind, really.”

Julie nods. “Ok, only if you’re sure about it.”

“Believe me, I am.”

. . .

Two weeks later

Steve wakes up on his birthday with Eddie’s face pressed between his shoulder blades. Arms holding his torso in a death grip. He ignores the need to get up to sit in it a while longer. The clatter of a familiar metal bowl hitting the kitchen floor breaking all hopes of staying in bed any longer.

He pries Eddie’s arms off of him, leaving him still asleep on the bed. Wandering into the hallway, he makes a stop in the bathroom before seeing what’s going on in the kitchen. Finding Julie squinting at a cookbook with a pile of ingredients on the counter.

She jumps when Steve clears his throat. “Sorry, did I wake you?” Julie tries to move in front of the counter, doing a poor job of hiding what’s behind her.

“No, I was already awake. What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” She avoids eyes contact. “Why don’t you just go back to bed.”

Steve continues walking into the kitchen, watching as Julie shifts to hide the stuff behind her. He swiftly reaches behind her to grab the book, seeing it open to a pancake recipe. Julie makes a sound of protest as she tries to grab the book back.

“You’re making pancakes,” Steve says with a surprised smile. “That’s what you were trying to hide, you can make breakfast anytime you want.”

“Yeah,” Julie says, defeated. “Thought it would be nice for you to not have to make breakfast on your birthday.”

“Yeah, that would be kind of nice.” He hands the book back to Julie. “Call me if you want help.”

“I’m not completely helpless in the kitchen.” Julie rolls her eyes. “Happy birthday,” she calls down the hall as he walks away.

Steve returns to his bed. Eddie blearily pulling him close before falling asleep again. He somehow falls into a light sleep. Getting up when he hears the dishes clanking in the kitchen, each one thudding on their new table.

He shakes Eddie awake, watching as he fights to keep his eyes closed. Face squishing up in protest, rolling away from Steve and gripping the blankets close to his chest.

“Come on, Julie made breakfast.”

Eddie doesn’t move, faking snoring.

“You don’t snore like that.” Steve sighs, getting out of bed. “I’ll save you some.”

He walks back out of the kitchen, watching as Julie sets a plate piled with pancakes on the table. Finishing with pouring some coffee into mugs and pacing them at each spot.

“It looks good,” he says, startling her.

“Jesus Christ, a little warning would have been nice.”

Steve laughs, sitting down. “Sorry.”

“They’re a little lumpy,” Julie explains while sitting down. “And some might be a little burnt, but they’re good.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Steve assures, stabbing some with his fork.

Julie does the same, topping them with some maple syrup. “Is Eddie still asleep?”

It’s nice to talk about him with someone else. Act like they are a couple in his own house. Not having to keep them so secret anymore. “He’s pretending to be.”

Halfway through breakfast, Eddie finds his way to the table. Hair tangled and frizzy. He stops them from trying to talk to him until he finishes his first cup of coffee.

After breakfast, Julie insists on doing the dishes herself, almost having to push Steve out of the kitchen. But he lets her, goes to get changed so he’s not hovering around the kitchen. Eddie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Happy birthday. Now we both can buy alcohol legally.”

Steve laughs. “That’s the first thing that you think of.”

“That’s the first thing everyone thinks of when you turn twenty-one. Not just me.”

“Sure.” Steve turns around to give Eddie a kiss. “Thank you.”

“How about we go see a movie, do something just the two of us.” Eddie releases Steve to rummage around in the dresser to find something to wear. Pointedly avoiding his own drawer to find one of the shirts that Steve had stolen. Stealing it back.

Steve pulls a polo over his head. “Is that because you want to, or because Robin told you to get me out of the house so she can throw a not-so-secret surprise party.”

“I was definitely not told to keep you far from the premises between the hours of two and five o’clock. But I could just want to spend time with you. Is that such a crime?” Eddie walks over to Steve and presses something into Steve’s hand.

Steve looks down at the metal chain in his hand. “What’s this?”

“Your birthday present,” Eddie explains, walking over to the dresser to pick up one of his rings. He takes the chain from Steve’s hand and unclasps it, threading it through the ring. “So you can wear this, if you wanted to.”

The ring is the one Eddie wears on his right hand. The silver band and dark stone. “This mean anything?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not really. Just wanted you to wear something of mine that isn’t a piece of clothing that I severely miss.”

“You won’t miss this, you wear is every day?” Still, Steve slips the chain over his head. Letting the ring settle in the middle of his chest.

“I have others, just don’t wear them that much. Plus, now I’ll never lose it because you never lose anything.”

“No, I just never throw things in a corner and expect to find it again.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Seriously though, want to see a movie? Get lunch? Literally anything?”

“Yeah, sure. A movie sounds nice.”

. . .

The house is full of unorganized chaos. Robin is frantically running around trying to make sure everything is perfect. While Dustin and Lucas keep getting into small arguments about who knows what. Max is sitting off to the side either laughing at them or telling them to shut the hell up. Mike is just sitting on the couch, refusing to do anything while Nancy keeps trying to get him involved.  The only people being helpful at all are El and Julie. And even then, they keep getting in their own way or Robin’s way.

It’s a mess. Food is haphazardly placed in the kitchen and across the coffee table. There are streamers all over the floor with only some of them making it to the ceiling. Somewhere, balloons keep popping and the music keeps being changed over and over again.

“Can you two quit changing the station after each song is played, Jesus fucking Christ,” Robin yells in the kitchen. Pouring a bag of chips into a bowl.

“I would if Lucas stopped putting the stupid sports radio on,” Dustin argues.

Lucas groans. “I’m trying to hear the scores. It’s a big game.”

“You and your stupid sports. This is a party we’re planning here.”

“Yeah, badly,” Max comments, crossing her arms.

“You can’t even see how bad it is,” Mike mutters.

Max glares at him. “I’m blind not stupid, idiot.”

“Why don’t we all just take a breath,” Will suggests, trying to calm everyone down.

Lucas changes the station again.

“Would you just-.” Dustin starts to scream. The group getting into an argument.

Julie sighs, starting to pick the streamers off the floor and handing them to El. She sticks them to the wall with an extra piece of tape, making sure they don’t fall again.

“Are we sure Steve even wants this party,” Julie asks. “The only reason I even found out about his birthday was Robin telling me two weeks ago.”

El shrugs, taking another streamer out of Julie’s hands. “I do not know. This is the first time we have ever thrown one for him. I think that is why Robin is so upset.”

“And going slightly insane,” Julie adds. Watching as she rips the radio out from between Dustin and Lucas and places it on top of the cabinets. “Did you guys really not know it was Steve’s birthday?”

“Yeah,” El takes Julie’s hand as she steps down from the chair they were using as a stepladder. “He was secretive about it for a long time. Told Dustin the wrong day and everything. We only knew the real date because Robin stole his driver’s license to find out.”

Julie’s trying to ignore the way that El continues to hold her hand when she doesn’t need it. “Maybe this was all a bad idea.”

“It’s not,” Nancy interrupts. “I told him about it a week ago.”

“What. Why?” Robin complains.

“Cause he hates surprises, and his birthday. And walking into his house looking like a tornado hit it.”

“It’s looking better,” Julie defends.

Nancy tilts her head to the side, looking over to the mess that still sits in the living room. “It could just use some finishing touches, that’s all.”

Finishing touches was setting up all of the food in the kitchen with the exception of a few bowls of chips. It was for the radio to return to the spot in the living room with the promise of it staying on one station and one station only. Nancy glaring at Lucas and Dustin until they agreed. It was Mike getting off his ass and helping straighten up. Until the party looked a little like a party.

Now they were just waiting for Steve to arrive.

“You are wearing your hair down today,” El comments.

Julie wasn’t wearing a French braid or a ponytail today. Her hair actually cooperating with her this morning, not drying in a weird wave pattern. So she wore it down. It probably won’t stay that way much longer, her hair can only get into her face so much before it gets annoying.

“Yeah,” Julie tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thought I could do something different today.”

El smiles. “It looks really nice. I wish my hair was as long as yours.”

Julie looks at the short curls that crown El’s head. A colorful hairclip pulling back some of the longer bits right above her ear. “I think your hair’s cute.”

She wills the flush rising to her cheeks to calm down. It wasn’t meant in any certain way, she just felt it was true.

“Thank you, but I am still letting it grow. The longest I have ever had my hair was around here.” El places her hand right below her shoulder, showing how long it was. “I miss that hair.”

“Did something happen that made you cut it?”

The question seemed harmless, but El’s face falls. “Yes.” Is all she says.

Julie ignores the need to ask more. Thankful that the door opens, forcing the mood between them to shift.

Steve stumbles through the front door, Eddie’s hands over his eyes. Waiting for the cue to remove them. When Robin gives him the thumbs up, Eddie removes the hands on Steve’s eyes. The group yelling an out of sync surprise.

The smile that catches Steve’s face is contagious.

“Thanks guys, this looks great.”

“Thank god,” Robin dramatically says. “I was scared you were going to hate it.”

Steve throws his arm over her shoulder. “Yeah well, I did have some warning. And I can say this exceeded my expectations. It takes a lot to wrangle them to help out.”

“Not if you threaten them enough,” Nancy adds.

The party officially starts. The group forming little clumps as people get food and start conversations. Julie ends up on the couch squished on the end of the couch with El next to her.  

It feels different than the hangouts they would have in the other house. Where the rooms separation was finite, and the noise only carried so far. Here, with people in the kitchen spilling out into the living room, the sound filling the walls and probably leaking outside. Everyone feels so close, even if they aren’t directly talking to each other.

The group somehow includes her in all of this. Making a space for her, welcoming her in. It’s breathtaking how it all happened.

“What happened to your ring,” Dustin asks Eddie.

Eddie looks down at his hand, the ring he normally wears gone. He shrugs, saying something along the lines of he lost it. Steve with a smirk on his face, silently asking Eddie something. It goes unnoticed. He's about to do something.

Steve pulls at a chain around his neck, revealing the missing ring from underneath his shirt. “I think I found it,” he smirks.

Eddie widens his eyes, surprised. “I thought we were going to wait until after court?”

Steve shrugs. “Fuck that, this was way more fun.”

Dustin seems frozen, eyes squinted at the chain. Like he has to make sure that the ring is the one he was talking about. Robin and Nancy are not so silently cracking up on the other side of the room. The rest of the kids with varied reactions.

“Fucking finally,” Max says annoyed.

El leans over to whisper to Julie. “So I was right? They are together.”

Julie snorts. “Yeah, they are."

Dustin catches this. “Wait, you knew?”

Julie wants to sink into the couch. “Kinda.”

“You were supposed to tell me about this. We made a pack.”

“We did not.”

Dustin makes an explosive gesture. “Yes, we did. I said I thought something was up, you said you agreed. Then you said you would tell me if you knew anything more. You knew something and didn’t tell me about it. Breaking the pact.”

“That is not a pack, dumbass,” Max butts in. Laughing at this whole situation.

“It really wasn’t,” Julie defends. “And I just got, like, official conformation about this a little while ago. I just didn’t get around to updating you about it.”

Dustin crosses his arms. “How long was a little while ago?”

“Like, three, maybe four weeks ago.” Julie shrugs to try and lessen the impact.

“So a month ago?”

“Yeah kinda.”

Dustin gaps. “How fucking dare you.” He picks up a stray pillow and throws it gently in Julie’s direction. Missing her entirely.

Lucas starts laughing. “You make fun of me all I want for liking sports but at least I can throw a pillow and hit something with it.”

“Don’t you start right now.”

Eddie and Steve start laughing, falling into each other. Looking totally and completely relaxed.

“That went way better than I thought it would,” Eddie wheezes.

“I know right.”

A few hours later, Robin starts to slowly convince the kids to clean up. With Nancy standing behind her making sure they actually listen. It shouldn’t be Steve’s responsibility to clean up his own birthday party.

Julie’s hair keeps falling in her face every time she bends over. She finally goes to tie it back, but the elastic breaks as soon as it stretches.

“Damn it,” she whispers under her breath.

“What?” El asks, wincing when Julie shows her the broken band. “Here,” El reaches into her pockets and pulls out a barrette. Sliding it into Julie’s hair, pining half of it behind her face. “That’s better.”

Julie can feel the heat rising to her face faster than she can try to stop it. Her hand coming up to touch the barrette, it radiating warmth. “Thanks,” she says impossibly soft.

El smiles before walking away to say goodbye to Max. The party slowly dispersing.

“What was that,” Dustin asks, dumping a pile of paper plates in the trash.

Julie sighs. “Can’t you mind your own business for once in your goddamn life?”

“That’s rude. I’m just looking out as a concerned friend. You're the one who’s acting weird whenever El does-.” His face lights with recognition. “Oh my god.”

Fear shoots through Julie’s veins. “No.”

“Yes,” Dustin whispers loudly. “That has to be.”

“It’s not what you think it is.”

Dustin gets a smug look on his face. “Oh, I think it is. You’ve been acting weird for weeks,” He starts to list out points on his fingers, “but only when El is around. Whenever she gets close to you, you either start stuttering or getting cagey. Your face becomes part tomato any time she says something nice or touches you. There's only one explanation.”

Julie tugs his arm away from the group. “Would you quiet down for two seconds.” She pushes him into her room, shutting the door behind her.

“Woah, your room is nice. I haven’t seen it since the move.”

“You cannot try and make this better by changing the subject.”

“So there’s a subject to change?” He crosses his arms proudly. “You like El, don’t you?”

Julie rolls her eyes. “That’s not something you can just ask about like that.”

“But I’m right?”

“Yes, you’re right,” she exclaims, sitting on her bed. “It’s so stupid.”

Very stupid. But true.

“It’s not stupid.” Dustin sits next to her.

“Don’t lie to me just to make me feel better. It’s very stupid.”

Julie reaches up to feel the barrette again. Knowing exactly which one it is. Feeling the bumps that form the small row of multicolored flowers. Replaying the feelings of El carefully gathering the strand of hair that was too stubborn to stay out of her face. Her hand resting just a second longer than it could have. Making sure it was perfect.

“That’s one of El’s favorite barrettes. She wears it all the time,” he comments.

“I know.”

“Do you know why?”

Julie shakes her head.

“El loves wildflowers. It was one of the things she missed most about Hawkins when they lived in California, other than the town and her dad. The other people she left here. And I’m not trying to give you hope or anything, I don’t know what she’s thinking, but she only gives wildflowers to people she really cares about.”

Julie doesn’t even know how she feels about this all the time. Some days, it feels kind of good. Other days, it feels crushing. But still, the idea that El cares about her, on any level, fills her with a warmth that is indescribable. Unmatched. Something Julie’s never felt before.

Something that feels so good that she’s not sure how she ever thought it was a bad thing.

She touches the barrette again. “But it could just mean she cares about me as a friend.”

Dustin shrugs. “Yeah, it could. I’ve seen Max wearing it a few times.” He takes a breath. “But it means that El cares about you, no matter what. Even with this.”

Julie smiles. “Thank you. This has been really hard for me.”

“I’m sorry. I hope it gets better.”

“Yeah, me too.”

When El hugs her goodbye that night, Julie’s able to return it. Part of her satisfied with knowing that she has her as a friend. The other pulls just enough on her heart to make the moment sour. For the want to overshadow the joy enough to make an effect.

But another person knows. Another person accepts it. Didn’t judge her for it. Maybe soon, she’ll be able to stop judging herself for this. Making it worse than it needs to be.

Let the good feeling be the good feeling.

. . .

June 1987

Julie sits in the row right behind the prosecution stand. Eddie and Robin next to her, the rest of the kids and their families filling the rows behind them. Steve talking with his lawyer, getting the final details all in place. All of them waiting for it to start.

And for the defendant to arrive.

The sides of the courtroom were completely uneven. Steve’s side filled with people scattered through the rows. Almost strategically placed to make them seem larger. It wasn’t hard, there wasn’t a soul seated on the other side of the court.

The large doors open, three people filing down the aisle. Taking their place on the defendant’s side. The lawyer pulling out papers from his briefcase. Mrs. Harrington sitting with her eyes glazed over, looking bored. Richard Harrington staring daggers at Steve. Trying to get him to react. Do anything.

All Steve does is continue to talk to his lawyer, pretending like his dad isn’t even there.

This is the first time Julie’s seen her biological father. Having only heard of him, and seen old photographs. The ones that haunted Steve’s old house. Created an unsettling feeling once anyone walked through the door.

Now here he was, glaring, taking it all in. Stalking it like a predator hunting prey. Wanting to find the weakest link just to watch it break.

His eyes find her in the crowd. Staring. She doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a look back. He doesn’t deserve it.

She wonders if he recognizes her. Sees her mother’s features sewn together with his. The sharpness of her jawbone, the curve of her nose, the brown of her eyes, all from him. Mixed with the dark brown hair from her mom, the similar build, fairness of her skin. Does he see Rebecca in her? Does he hate Julie for reminding him of his past?

It doesn’t matter to her. What matters was the family he left behind. The family she knew. Her mom. Steve. Everyone else. The people surrounding her, all here to show their support for Steve. That is what mattered.

Especially now, as the judge takes the stand, and it begins.

The opening statements are made. Evidence is brought forward. Witnesses take the stand, questioned and cross examined. Each item telling a tale of a young boy that was left to his own devices way too soon.

That was the main point of the case, at least. The emphasis of the age Steve was first left alone is the heavy hitter. How he was left alone for hours on end, with an entire house to himself. No supervision. No check ins. Anything could have happened. This town wasn’t as safe as everyone thought it was.

When Steve takes the stand, having to face the questions and badgering from his father’s attorney, the jury looks pissed. As he recounts the times alone in the house, how scared he was as a kid. As the tears come to his eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall. Not wanting to waste a single one more on his father. Showing the strength that someone of his age shouldn’t have.

He talks about his medical visits. The concussion he was sent to the hospital for in his freshman year after a bad fall on the basketball court. Brings up the ones after he was a legal adult, while he didn’t technically need them there anymore. It still didn’t look good.

Nothing changes the reaction in the defendant. If anything, it just makes him smugger. Him not understanding how any of this was bad. How bad he neglected his son.

It wasn’t until the verdict was read that the smirk was finally wiped off his face.

It was a unanimous vote. The plaintiff won.

. . .

The first thing Steve feels when the verdict is read is relief. Freedom. It’s over.

His lawyer pats Steve on the back and explains how he’ll take care of the transfer of funds. Will call to set up a meeting once the paperwork is filled out. Steve couldn’t care less.

He was believed. He fought, and won. Richard Harrington has no hold on him anymore.

As soon as he walks out of the courthouse, he’s met with more hugs and congratulations than he can count. People who came to support him, testify for him, believed in him.

People come over to the house that’s in his name. Bought for the people he cares about. Who care about him. A drink gets passed to him, someone turns on the radio. Voices flood the house, laughter, joy. He’s having a conversation with someone. A few people. Not being able to get a smile off his face. the feeling of disbelief sitting under his skin.

Tomorrow never looked brighter than it does right now.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,

@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,

@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,

@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,

@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi

[scaly-freaks]

Aegon, Aemond, Helaena question nine please

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Helaena: Oh absolutely. Yankee candle collector, butterfly keeper, 'shall we go rollerskating at 4am' kinda girlie? I would fall in love and never tell her and feel my heart break when she gets into a relationship but I'm happy to just live with her.

Aemond: I would miss paying rent once and he'd get me a rent countdown timer and change the date every day opposite my room door so I see it the second I walk out. He's so anal about everything, but also so normal, it hurts. And then one day I walk in to what seems to be a satanic orgy and he hisses at me in Latin, and I turn around, leave all my stuff and never come back.

Aegon: NO! Dirty dishes, roach infestations, black mould, weed smoking on the balcony when I've hung out my laundry, eats the fucking food i LABELLED and put in the fridge, begs me to talk to his one night stands the next morning and let them down easy and tell them he won't be calling them, leaves turds in the toilet unflushed, aims wrong when he pees, games all night when he's not having sex, kicks open my door to ask "i'm bored wyd," wants to borrow money.....just NO.

however, he would dick me down so good when i needed it that i might forgive all of the above, but i'd have to be desperate af for that rent control.

[theocseason4]

A girl I know used the bathroom after Abigail Breslin at a restaurant in LA and she left half line of cocaine and an unflushed sickly log of shit behind.

She was being charitable

[donnerpartyofone]

Our new apartment has a toilet mystery we need to solve. There is a lingering pee smell that comes and goes, and we cannot figure out where it's emanating from. We've lived together for like a decade and this never happened in the old place which was much harder to keep clean, so it's not a lifestyle problem. At first I was afraid it was ME and I thought oh god when did this start happening, I need to get a grip on my depression hygiene--but I'm sitting there grabbing a fistful of my dirty panties and huffing it like a cavedwelling pervert and going Nope, that's actually not it. I clean the toilet pretty diligently but I started doing it more often and that didn't help. So then I got on the floor and scrubbed every inch of the whole toilet real estate, and that didn't help either. My husband checked the actual tank and mercifully that's not it. I wondered if maybe the last worker to leave before we moved in, who left us an unflushed shit in the bowl, might have also pissed into the radiator or something, but it doesn't seem to be coming from there. My last guess is maybe it's like...all up in the hinges of the toilet seat? Maybe someone with incredibly bad aim used to live here? We hate the toilet seat. We've never used anything like it. It has this perfectly concave shape that sort of comes to a ridge that cuts into your thighs and seems to drop your ass deeper into the bowl than normal. It would be perfect if you were an animal shaped like a large pear or egg but it's insane for a person, and for all that it has the word "Comfort" printed condescendingly under the lid. We need to just replace the whole thing but for now I'm drenching the hinges in bleach to see if that does anything. This building is almost 100 years old so it's not like a cheap new prefab thing, but the walls are awfully thin and we wonder if other people's smells could possibly be coming in through the ventilation fan or something. That would be better than something inside the room being uncleanable, but it would suck that we can't control it. Please wish us luck in solving this toilet mystery.

[cappincooks]

𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲.

pairing: highschool!jesse pinkman x fem!reader type: slight angst, fluff topics: smoking, mentions of depression, overdose, and drugs

overview: to your surprise (and slight horror,) you find jesse pinkman screaming his lungs away in the go-karting place you were working in.

the magazine you were reading wasn't really keeping you fully entertained, it was more so there to keep you occupied to pretend that time was going by faster at work. but you found yourself harshly flipping the pages, frustrated that the office fan kept blowing it back.

it was a long, slow day at the go-karting place you worked at. well to be fair, you couldn't expect a go-karting business to be booming. not everyone is in the mood for small fast car racing—they have real-world problems to be worrying about.

"FUUUUUUUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT BITCH! FUCK YOU! EAT SHIT AND DIE! YEAH BITCH!"

jesus. h. christ. what the hell was that?

wanting to investigate further, you slowly peek your head out of the office door. to your surprise, it was jesse pinkman? you knew he was a nutcase to some degree, but this is a whole other level.

you weren't a goody two-shoes, and you're certainly not about to poop on someone's party, but you also needed him to quiet the fuck down or else bye-bye job.

setting your eyes on your box of cigarettes, you decided to light some up before containing the wild animal.

"hey! pinkman! i know you're having a blast but tone it down a bit!"

coincidentally, he was slowing down since his session was up. he looked at you, and got out of the kart with his hands in his pockets; eyes glued to the floor.

he looked really distraught. sleep-deprived even? ...is he good?

blowing out the smoke from your cigarette, you called out to him. "pinkman?"

surprised he even stopped in response to you, you try to ask him if he was fine.

"yeah, yeah. im good. sorry about the uh," he looked back at his go-kart, "the screaming."

once he finally faced you, you could see his face more clearly now. his eyes were bloodshot red. his eyebags could not be darker and more purple. plus, he was really fidgety.

not really good with words, you extend out your hand, a box of cigarettes on your palm. "you wanna smoke one... or two with me?"

-

"are you high out of your mind right now?" you mindlessly asked. remembering that you could be too direct at times, you apologized just as quick. "oh shit, sorry. i didn't mean to ask you that. well i did, but i didn't mean for it to be so straightforward."

jesse chuckled as he blew out the smoke from his nose.

to be frank, you were taken aback. the guy you're silently hanging out with right now is different from the jesse pinkman you knew when you see him in the high school hallways, or when he's smoking with badger and skinny pete behind the school.

"honestly yeah. im high as fuck out of mind right now. my life's just in the shitter hole. always has been." his eye twitches.

relating, you nod your head in approval. "oh yeah, amen dude. welcome to the club. my life has been a giant turd swirling around in an unflushed toilet for the past.. 2 years now?"

"jesus. that's one way to describe it."

"well someone's trying to be funny, mr. i-scream-my-lungs-out-in-a-go-kart-at-9-pm?" the both of you chuckled at your remark.

-

your neck was getting really sweaty since you guys were smoking outside, so you decided to put your hair up in a ponytail. minding your own business for a hot second, you didn't realize that jesse was looking at you.

"is the view good?" you were trying to lighten the atmosphere up a bit. to be honest, even though jesse was pretty easygoing, you always sensed something darker and heavier going on in his mind.

no response other than him quickly turning his head away from you, and a small 'sorry'.

you didn't really know why you cared a bit for him. it's not like you had a crush on him or something, but something always drew you to him, even at school. you never got the chance to talk to him though. well- until now.

fidgeting with your dangling earrings, you wondered if he remembered you from school so you asked him just that.

"hm." he made a sound, rather than actually answering. "yeah i guess i do. i see you around school, but that's about it. can i have another one?"

"for sure." you handed him another stick. "so more or less strangers, huh?"

he took a hit and nodded his head in response.

"you mind telling me the story behind all the uh, all the screaming back there? figured it's easier to tell me since we're strangers and everything."

you tried to steal a glance at his side, he seems calmer now.

"right on. well, my parents are fucking bitches man. they keep telling me to go to college and shit, but i just want to get high and live my life. they, they think that," he pauses to sarcastically laugh, "they really think they own me. bunch of pussies."

you sat, listening to him rant. it was pretty satisfying, actually.

"god! fucking assholes wanting to have a 'perfect family', well surprise!" jesse immediately stands up and holds his crotch which was, unfortunately, lined up right at your face. "you can suck THIS!!! perfect family my ass."

"okay, okay sit back down mister. you're not about to go hysterical again on my watch. plus, i don't really like someone's dick in front of my face- i save it til the second date." you patted the seat next to you. "though i get it, truly. parents are a bunch of assholes, AND college too. just because they get to finish college doesn't mean shit. they're not better than you."

"exactly! at least someone gets me. and it's not just that, they've always treated me like i'm some problem dog. they frustrate me so fucking much it's not even funny." you noticed jesse fidgeting with his fingers as he sat back down. "i would really kill for some weed right now though." his knees bouncing up and down, jesse staring at you as if you really packed grass for your lunch at work.

"how'd you know i have weed?"

"i guess we're not total strangers after all." he winked.

you were for sure enjoying his company, and you didn't mind spending a few more hours with him so you offered some back at your place instead. he agreed and waited for you to close up the go-karting place.

-

"so, this is me." the door creaked, revealing a dim living room.

"where your folks at?" jesse whispered, frantically searching for your parents.

you chuckled, "sleeping. come on, quietly."

as you guys reached your bedroom, past the creaking staircase, jesse shut your door slowly. raising his eyebrows and eyes scanning around your poster-filled room he asked, "yo, are you sure they won't get mad?"

you fixed your bed (putting shit in their respective piles), "they've caught me doing worse. we just have to keep quiet, and we're gold." you shrugged.

"right on."

"get comfy, i'll roll some up for us."

-

both of you were lying back first on your bed. it doesn't have enough space for the both of you, but you made do. you held that position for a good 5 minutes, enjoying the calm silence. though you decided to have some kind of fun, so you blew smoke on his face.

"you doing good over there, buddy?" you laughed heartily, looking at his profile.

he kinda looked good. well, he was coughing up since you blew some smoke in his face, but he still looked fine as hell. you guessed you just never noticed that til now. you gulped, trying to push this thought down, and fixed your eyes back at the ceiling.

chuckling and lightly nudging your body, jesse replied, "jerk." he propped up his pillow, and put his arm behind his head, exhaling slowly. "you have good ones, let me tell you that."

"glad you think so. about time i enjoyed them with someone." you admitted.

"you don't have anyone to bring over?" you shook your head. "ever?" you shook your head again. "i don't buy it yo. no way. you're like cool to hang out with, there's no way you don't have friends."

"that's just the truth. used to it by now. to be honest," you took another hit. "same time last year, or a little bit over a year ago maybe? i was losing my mind, and i mean losing my damn mind. i didn't care if my blood had too much alcohol in it, if i was overdosing, or high out of my fucking mind that i was close to touching jesus' clothes. i just wanted to-"

"die?"

you look towards jesse's direction. you see him already staring at you with wide, sympathetic but understanding eyes. like he knew exactly what you felt, down to a t.

not really used to personal attention, you remove your eyes from his and agreed. "yeah... die. one thing led to another, and now i'm doing better. at least, not worse." you finished off your little trauma dump.

it was a good thing that jesse understood. he understood that silence is better than empty, comforting words. what both of you have endured is way past words of encouragement.

from the ceiling, your eyes then trailed towards the window next to your bed, admiring the chilling night sky, the stars; then the moon. you were startled when something cold touched your pinky finger. slowly looking down, you see pinkman's pinky shakily making contact with yours. as if he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.

you wrapped your pinky around his as a go signal, jesse then finally held your hand. you heard a loud exhale from him like he was holding his breath for a while.

looking up to get a better view of jesse's face, you saw him still staring at your bedroom ceiling. all that direct, heartstopping eye contact earlier, and not even once when it counts. you lightly smiled and stared at the ceiling with him. both of you holding each other's hands in one hand, and holding joints in the other.

[zooophagous]

Eww why am I getting radfems in my notes on the first day of pride opening up my activity to see that gives me about the exact same feeling as wandering into a public restroom and seeing unflushed diarrhea in the stall