#yeah I got bags to pack this is not very productive.

[loveinhawkins]

Steve grabs the bag before Eddie can. “No, I’ve got it.”

Eddie glances at the transparency of the plastic bag: the outline of his battle vest pokes through it, neatly folded.

He sidesteps the rest of the group as they troop out of the RV. Steve’s still standing his ground by the driver’s seat.

“Uh, Steve, I can see what’s in there. That’s mine.”

“Yeah, but—” Steve huffs, still holding the bag tightly, and he almost seems… embarrassed. “Like, just. Don’t look at it right now, I’ve got it. I’m gonna dry clean it. Later, I mean.”

Eddie laughs. But Steve remains deadly serious.

“Uh, that’s nice and all, but I don’t think dry cleaning gets out… um, blood and…” Eddie pokes his head out the RV door, to where the kids are hauling weapons and tanks of lighter fluid with Robin and Nancy—a sight he steadfastly tries to ignore before he panics ad nauseam—and asks, “What’s your word for, uh, Upside Down related, uh, you know—”

“Slime?” Lucas offers.

“Sludge,” Erica corrects.

“Goop,” Max says decisively.

“Shit,” Dustin says.

Eddie nods. “Helpful, thanks.”

He turns back. He’d intended for all that to get Steve to crack a smile at least, but if anything, he looks worse; the expression on his face has shifted into evident guilt.

“Steve,” Eddie says, caught between being amused and… honestly, touched. “Relax. It’s fine, man.”

Steve keeps frowning. “But it was—”

“—not important.”

Steve huffs again, like he’s saying don’t lie.

Eddie changes tack. He hasn’t missed the fact that Steve’s change of clothes from The War Zone means that, sure, less skin’s on show, which is probably better for Eddie’s heart but, more importantly, his bandages are ‘conveniently’ concealed—which is decidedly less good for Eddie’s heart, so maybe they both cancel each other out.

If ever there was the time for sincerity…

“Maybe I care less about the damn vest, and more about the person wearing it.”

The pinch in Steve’s brow lessens. “Oh,” he says, soft, and then a little of his usual bravado comes back when he asks, “you sure?”

Eddie waggles a hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s borderline.”

Steve chuckles. He puts the bag down on his seat, very carefully, as if it’s breakable, and Eddie’s heart does a little skip.

“Well. I still feel bad,” Steve insists. His tone’s light, but he fixes Eddie with a pointed look, don’t test me on this, Munson, ‘cause my stubbornness will win.

“Okay,” Eddie concedes, hands up in surrender. “Tell you what, Steve. What if I wore something of yours, to make it even?”

Steve wrinkles his nose, but he’s smiling. “What, and deliberately mess it up?”

Eddie nods gravely. “Like, it’s not quite Upside Down conditions, but whenever I cook, it gets pretty close.”

Steve’s smile grows. He makes a show of turning around in search of something.

“Huh, I must’ve forgot to pack my wardrobe.”

Eddie clicks his tongue in theatrical disapproval. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big oversight, dude, should’ve thought it through.”

“Guess it’ll have to wait for next time.”

And yeah, they’re joking, but still. Eddie doesn’t want to tempt fate.

“Next time? Nah, I’m praying all this shit is a one time thing.”

“No, I meant—” Steve hesitates, like he’s inadvertently stepped out of the joke, and he doesn’t know where to go from here. “Like. Whenever you come round.”

“Is that an invitation?” Eddie says; he hopes the quip is enough to cover his surprise, the long-buried thought—ridiculously high school, but true in spite of it: no-one’s ever invited me to…

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, sorry, did you want it hand-written? The red carpet treatment?”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

“I’ll go get my quill,” Steve deadpans.

Eddie laughs. Says, only partly kidding, “It’s just, I’ll need some time to think it over.”

“The… invitation?”

“What item of clothing I’m taking, duh.”

“Right, yeah,” Steve scoffs, “major decision.”

“It is! You have whole ensembles, man.”

“Ensembles,” Steve echoes, but it’s got more of a French accent to it; Eddie suspects it’s a by-product of Steve helping Robin study, ‘cause she seems to be the only one who’s a polyglot in their contingent. “Get out of town, Munson.”

“Oh, like you don’t know. I swear, in winter, there’d be actual bets placed on what sweater you were gonna wear each day.”

“Uh-huh.”

Eddie hams it up, “Didn’t you wonder why so many girls were waiting to see you drive into school?”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve says, and he waves Eddie aside, about to jump out of the RV. “Lemme know when you’ve made your selection.”

Eddie knows he should leave it there. They’ve had their laughs, and it’s made to be forgotten about in the face of much more important things.

But that’s always been his problem, really. He can’t bite his tongue in time. He can’t help—

“The red one?”

Steve turns around, one foot off the step. “What?”

“The, uh…” Eddie clears his throat. It’s either say nothing or go all in. Fuck it, the shire’s burning. “I’ve decided what to—um. The red sweater?” Steve just keeps looking at him, so he adds, tentatively, “The one you’d wear near winter break?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know the one you mean.” He falters on the verge of speech, his lips twitching into a surprised little smile. He drawls, “You sure you weren’t placing those bets yourself, Munson?”, but it doesn’t sound mean, and his ears suddenly look a little pink, and maybe, maybe—

“No comment,” Eddie says, aiming for comically flat, but Steve’s smile is contagious.

“Okay, it’s a deal.” Steve steps outside—throws over his shoulder, “It’s yours,” oddly sincere; and Eddie wonders if they’ve really been talking about clothes at all.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Warning ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, child gets hurt (nothing major), unruly mobs, poison, hanging tree

“Daddy!” Cassian Xanthos excitedly exclaimed, running over to Coriolanus as you followed behind him, your belly just starting to swell with your second child so you're still able to keep up with your little blonde rugrat.

“Did Mommy bring you here to help me run the country, Cass?” Your husband asked your son, who was his spitting image at 4 years old. The little boy had the same light platinum blonde curls, the same baby blue eyes, the same prominent nose, long legs, and toothy grin.

A grin that was missing something.

“I finally lost my tooth!” Cassian proudly announced, climbing up onto your husband's lap as he sat at his desk in his presidential office.

“Yeah? Let me see it.” Coriolanus beamed, giving your son a proud smile.

You couldn't help, but to melt at the interaction you were watching unfold before your very eyes. Coriolanus, despite being a cold, callous, stern, calculated, iron-fisted leader, was a very loving husband and father. Around you and your son, he was a different man. A man that let his guard down, let himself have emotions.

Coriolanus presented himself to the public as a hard man and rarely talked about his family. The only ones that knew how much his family meant to him was the presidential mansion staff. And they knew better than to cross their boss. The staff knew that if they wanted to keep breathing and assure that their families didn't wind up banished to the districts that it's best to ignore how soft the cold hearted President Snow was with his family.

“Cass, put your tooth under your pillow tonight and the tooth fairy will collect your tooth; give you a reward.” Your husband told your son, making the little boy smile and giggle in excitement.

Coriolanus made sure to incorporate all of those little traditions he grew up with. The ones Grandma’am had shared with him when he was a little orphan boy, growing up alone and afraid during a war.

“Last time I lost a tooth, the tooth fairy gived me a gold coin.” Cassian. Xandros chirped.

Coriolanus cringed at hearing his son's improper grammar. Looking down at his boy, your husband corrected him with, “It's the tooth fairy gave me a gold coin, not gived.”

“Okay.” Cassian simply smiled.

Looking away from the little boy in his lap and over to you, Coriolanus asked, “Have the maids finished packing our bags for our trip to 12?”

Your husband, being the President, had to take trips to the districts to deal with things. It was mostly meetings with PK commanders and mayors, sometimes a few other things such as productivity at a factory or a mine. But he never went into full details with you about it. You usually just had to deal with him bitching about the incompetent people he had to meet with.

You also got stuck attending dinners with the PK commanders, mayors, and their families. Coryo always brought his family along on his business trips for that very reason. So that his family could smooze with the family of whoever he was stuck meeting with. Your husband was all about networking.

“Yes.” You nodded, leaning against the edge of his desk and resting your hand on your barely there baby bump. “Paloma, placed the bags in the foyer of the living quarters; I think the chauffeur's loading them into the car soon.

“As soon as I'm done with my paperwork we'll head out.” Coriolanus informed you, picking up his pen and resuming his paperwork while letting his son sit on his lap.

“Okay, but why do we have to go to 12? We both hate it there, can't you just send one of your staff to handle whatever mine dispute is going on?”

“Darling, I can't send an assistant. I need to handle this myself because, apparently, the last time I sent an assistant nothing got done.”

“Daddy, why you and Mommy hate 12?” Your son innocently asked your husband.

You narrowed your eyes at Coryo, silently warning him that the story of you two’s past in 12 wasn't fitting for the ears of a 4 year old little boy.

Yea… Telling your son that Coriolanus and you met each other when he was a Peacekeeper (and that he was supposed to be Lucy Gray’s beau), that he paid for an apartment you shared (he was supposed to live in the barracks, but he always seemed to sneak in and out before wakeup call), and brought you back to the Capitol with him wasn't a good idea. He was too young; wouldn't understand.

Hell, you're hoping that Cassian never learns the truth about how you and Coryo got together. It's just too complicated. Maybe even somewhat embarrassing in a way.

Your husband gave your son his old puppy plushie from his childhood. It was a plushie that your son slept with. He had to take it with him during trips, or else he'd be up all night crying without it. Cassian Xandros couldn't sleep without his plushie, Puppers.

And Puppers couldn't be packed in the suitcase. No, your son has to carry that plushie with him when going somewhere. Sticking it in the luggage gives him panic attacks.

And dealing with a 4 year old having a panic attack’s no easy feat. Especially when that child's the carbon copy of Coriolanus Snow. Oh boy…the panic attacks that Cassian would have over thinking his Puppers was lost were on a whole different level.

Like the end of the world, the 2nd apocalypse, and WW4 type of level. The little boy was unconsolable while having one. You would always hold your son and assure him that everything was fine. You'd whisper reassuring words to him and comfort him while your husband would find the puppy plushie and shove it into your son's hands.

Safe to say, it was easier to just let Cassian carry Puppers the puppy plushie onto the train with him then to pack it up.

“Daddy, did you bring Puppers on trips when you was little?” Cassian Xandros asked his father while sitting on his lap, looking out the window of the Presidential train car your family had just boarded half an hour earlier.

“It's when you were little, Cass.” Coriolanus corrected your son’s grammar, like he always did.

You just smiled from your spot on the sofa, eating some fruit while watching your favorite boys. They're two peas in a pod. You know that Cassian Xandros is most likely going to follow in his father's political footsteps when he's older. You can see it already.

“No.” Coryo shook his head. A faraway look appeared in your husband's icy blue eyes as he looked out the window over your son's head of platinum curls. Looking down at the little boy in his lap, a thin line of a smile appeared on his face as he explained, “I didn't go on trips as a little boy because things were scary back then. Panem wasn't safe like it is now.”

Looking at his dad, who was his hero, Cassian asked, “And you make it safe, right daddy? Cause you's President?”

“Yes, your daddy makes the country very safe because he's the president.” You answered Cassian before Coriolanus had the chance to correct his grammar.

And it's true, your husband had put many laws, rules, and regulations in effect when it came to the law and order of the country; to keep Panem safe. To keep the country running smoothly. Your husband had seen many horrors in his short life, more than you and that's something considering that you grew up in the districts. Your husband had an obsessive need for control and order; it showed in his political policies.

You never got into it. As First Lady your job was to just smile, go to charity events, host tea parties, etc. Oh, you also collected gossip for your husband, that he used to make decisions about who he should and shouldn't eliminate. But, as First Lady, your role wasn't as a ruler- that was your husband's job. Coriolanus was the President, he oversaw the country and you’re just his sidekick.

“You're mommy’s right.” Coryo smiled, only to ruffle his son's light blonde curls and correct his grammar, once again, with, “And it's because you're President, not cause you’s President, Cass.”

The trip from Capitol City, Panem to District 12, Panem was a very long and boring journey. Traveling from the Rockies to Appalachia was always a soul sucking experience. You and your husband avoid traveling to District 12 like the plague, but unfortunately it couldn't be avoided. It seems that the route was long and full of nothing to look at, but a few old crumbling ruins of ancient Pre-Panem cities.

Cassian Xandros, being a little boy, was excited when the train passed by the remnants of the ancient places. “Mommy, Daddy, what District that?”

Never looking up from his reports, Coriolanus told your son, “It's not a district son, it's the ancient city of Pittsburgh.”

“What happened?” The little boy, who inherited both his father's looks and thirst for knowledge, asked.

“Don't worry about it, buddy. You'll learn about it when you're older in school.”

“But daddy-” Cassian Xandros began, only for the president to sternly cut him off with, “I told you not to worry about it, Cassian.”

Seeing the dejected look on your son's face paired with his low lip quivering made you decide that your husband needed a talking to. That you're going to straighten him out. So, giving your son a soft smile, you suggested in a sweet and motherly tone, “Why don't you go to the dining car and ask an Avox for some ice cream? Hmm?”

‘Okay, mommy.” Cassian nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before taking off to go get his ice cream. A treat that you knew would make him feel better; would also get him out of the suite long enough for you to tell off your husband.

As soon as the door to the train car closed, you gave your husband a disgruntled look and told him, ‘Coriolanus, I understand that you're tense because we're almost at 12, but that doesn't give you the right to snap at Cassian. He's just curious about why there's ancient ruins outside of the Districts along the train tracks.”

“I need to prepare for my upcoming meetings, darling. I don't have time to conduct history lessons with a 4 year old right now.” Coryo said dismissively, as if everything you just told him wasn't important. As if his goddamn paperwork was more important.

Well it wasn't and you're going to let him know that.

“You're not the only one that's on edge about this visit to 12, Coryo.” Your said, causing your husband to look at you. Shaking your head, you admitted, “I haven't seen my brother Rein since he disowned me; called me a sellout and a whore when I became your girl. Going back there, not knowing how my family's going to react seeing me as your pregnant First Lady; the mother of your son, terrifies me.”

And your estranged family's opinion of you, after all of these years, did have you worried. You didn't part with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, on the best of terms. They made you choose between them and a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, Private Snow. You, in the end, picked Coryo. The man that took care of you while you lived in 12, who took you with him when he got discharged and sent back to the Capitol. The man who married you despite the way his Grandma’am turned her nose down at you.

The last time you saw your brother it was when you were on stage with your husband while he was giving a speech during a presidential campaign tour. Although district citizens can't vote, Capitol citizens and those serving the Capitol in the Peacekeepers can. So, Coryo decided to do a district tour to boost morale and votes of the Peacekeepers. He even made sure to use his background as one along with the fact that his father was General Crassus Snow during the election too.

But that was around the time you discovered you were pregnant, so…

“But I'm not taking it out on Cass; I won't sit back and watch you do that, Coryo.” You told your husband, needing him to know that your son couldn't be an emotional punching bag.

Setting his paperwork aside, Coryo stood up and sighed, “You're brother, Rein, and that ratty whore of his are idiots.” Going over to the sofa and taking a seat next to you, your husband snaked an arm around you, bringing you to lean your head against his chest. “I'm sorry that being with me caused such a rift between you and your family; you should've told me you've been feeling apprehensive about this trip.”

“Coryo, you know that I get over emotional from pregnancy hormones. I didn't want to bother you with my feelings about this trip.” You told Coriolanus, feeling like you're ready to burst into tears at any second.

At that very moment, your son walked back into the train car with an ice cream cone in his hand. Seeing you so sad and his daddy trying to make you feel better, Cassian Xandros went over to Coriolanus, only to hold his ice cream out and say, “Daddy, mommy’s sad. Give her my ice cream; then she'll be happy.”

“No, you eat it, sweetie.” You told your son while holding your husband's hand; preventing him from taking the ice cream.

You knew that Coryo would take the ice cream under the guise of giving it to you, but would eat it himself once you turned the treat down. Your husband has an odd relationship with free food…

“Do you want Puppers instead? He always makes me feel better.” Cassian asked, licking his chocolate ice cream cone that had every single once covered by chocolate sprinkles. That was definitely something your son got from his Snow genes. The love of chocolate.

“Oh, I'm fine, Cassian. Your baby sister's just making me a little dramatic.”

“But I thought Auntie Tigris said that daddy the drama queen in the family.”

“Looks like visits with Auntie Tigris are coming to an end.” Coriolanus coldly muttered under his breath.

“President Snow, Sir, we’ve arrived.” A Peacekeeper announced, walking into the presidential train car once the train has stopped.

“Thank you.” Your husband nodded, only to stand up and look towards you and your son. “It's time to go meet the mayor.”

“Is it still Mayor Lipp?” You wondered, standing up with your son and going over to Coriolanus.

You haven't set foot in 12 since Coriolanus did a presidential campaign tour years ago, before you had Cassian, so you had no idea what was going on politically in the district. Honestly, you didn't care either. But, you did need to know who the mayor was since that's who was housing your family for your visit.

“Yes, that wretched fool’s still the mayor.”

“Mister President, Sir.” The Peacekeeper acknowledged your husband, only to turn to you and say, “First Lady, Ma’am.”, before stating, “A Peacekeeper, says his name's Smiley, is here to escort you to the barracks.”

A puzzled look appeared on your face. “The barracks? But we're staying with the mayor.”

“According to this Smiley, Ma’am, the Commander here in 12 has made new arrangements for the Presidential family.”

“Smiley’ll tell us what's going on, darling. Don't worry, we'll be fine.” Coriolanus assured you, since he didn't want you to get yourself in a tizzy while in your delicate condition. He was always so protective of you when you're carrying his child.

But there was a need to worry. Unknown to Coriolanus and you, the miners were striking and protesting. And not just a few of them, but all of them. Apparently they were tired of working long hours underground in dangerous circumstances without being properly compensated.

The protests started at the mines, but by the time your train arrived at the depot, the station was swarming with District 12 miners demanding to be treated like human beings instead of slave labor. Peacekeepers were lined up, keeping them at bay with rifles drawn and threats to shoot. It was so bad that the Commander was afraid for the safety of Coriolanus and his family. Honestly, none of you should be there, but it was too late to cancel the meeting between the President, the mining bosses, the mayor, and the Commander of District 12.

So, the Commander sent Smiley to greet President Coriolanus Snow and to inform him of what's going on. To act as a makeshift bodyguard because the two men are friends.

Well, your husband only used his old bunkmate as a contact to keep tabs on District 12, but friend sounded much better.

“Coryo…” You trailed off, looking up at your husband. You were tucked into his side as he had an arm protectively wrapped around you, hand on your round belly. His other arm was holding your son against his chest in a vice tighter than that of a boa constrictor.

Cassian Xandros had his head buried in his father's chest, clutching tightly to his puppy plushie. The loud noise of the crowd of miners and protesters was clearly frightening him. To be honest, it frightened you too.

These people crowding around you were out for blood. You could sense that if the Peacekeepers weren't keeping them at bay, then the crowd would rush you and your family; tear you apart limb by limb- because they're angry at how they're living compared to how your family's living.

“We'll be at the van soon; then we'll go to the base and won't have to deal with the protestors anymore.” Coryo assured you, keeping a stern look on his face as he led the way towards the van as angry miners and their families shouted profanities. Smiley was up ahead, clearing the way, while the personal guards (peacekeepers) that came on the trip from the Presidential Palace flanked you.

It felt so unsettling, this short walk from the depot to the van that'll take your family to the base. To safety.

It should've been easy to get to the van, considering all the presence of the peacekeepers, but it wasn't. Because nothing in your life, in Coriolanus' life, can be easy.

No….

Because right before you reached the Peacekeepers’ van, the unthinkable happened.

“Should’ve stayed in the Capitol, sellout whore!” You heard your older brother's voice yell before feeling spit land on your cheek.

President Coriolanus Snow should've keep walking, guiding his family thru the crowd to the nearby van, but hearing his brother-in-law call his First Lady a sellout whore made him see red. Made him furious.

Motioning to one of the presidential Peacekeeper guards, Coriolanus ordered, “Arrest that man for assaulting my wife, First Lady Y/N Snow.”

The peacekeeper nodded, only to grab your brother (who put up a good struggle) and cuff him. Your brother was cussing up a storm while the crowd was screaming to let him go, that Rein didn't do anything. The protesters screamed that Rein was innocent; was being falsely arrested by the cruel, dictator President Snow.

But you know what Rein did to cause his arrest. He insulted you and spit in your face. In Coryo's eyes was that assault; something unforgivable.

But the crowd of miners and protesters (some of which were rebels and their sympathizers) didn't see it that way. All they saw was an ‘innocent’ man being carted away.

You don't know how it started, but suddenly people broke thru the lines and tried to swarm you, your husband, and your son. Smiley and your Capitol Peacekeeper guards were beating back the crowd so that your husband could whisk his family to the Peacekeepers van.

And you would've made it to the van unscathed to, if it wasn't for the moltov cocktail that somebody threw at your husband as he ushered you towards the van.

You heard the crash of the bottle and smelted the chemicals before your son's cries of pain sounded out. Turning around, as one of the Peacekeepers by the van shoved you into it, you saw flames licking at your son's back and at your husband's arm. A piece of glass from the broken moltov bottle was embedded in your husband's jaw as blood flowed freely from it.

A pair of Peacekeepers rushed over to your husband, patting the flames out of both his arm and your son's back.

“Daddy, it hurts.” Your son cried, referring to his boiled flesh.

‘Radio the hospital on base, I want the best treatment for my son.” President Snow ordered the peacekeeper that was pushing him towards the van, where you were sitting anxiously.

“Mister President, Sir, we'll get him to the hospital on base right away.” The peacekeeper assured your husband as he joined you in the van.

Coriolanus just nodded at the peacekeeper, causing the man to hop into the back of the van. You and Coriolanus tried your best to soothe your son as the peacekeeper sitting next to your husband barked for the driver to get to base; to radio the on base hospital to let them know that President Snow's son is suffering a burn on his back from the mob’s attack.

Of course, the peacekeeper driving to the base did as he was told. So, when your family arrived at PK Base D12 a stretcher with a medic and a doctor was waiting for your son.

Coryo was holding Cassian’s puppy plushie so hard, you thought the thing’s head was going to pop off and the stuffing would fly out, as the two of you were escorted into your son's hospital room by his attending nurse. His burns weren't bad enough for surgery, but they were bad enough that they needed cleaned, treated with ointment, and bandaged. The nurse explained that Cassian Xandros was asleep due to a dose of morphling he was given for the pain.

Despite him being asleep and on pain meds, you and Coryo just had to see him. Had to sit with him. Your baby boy was hurt, you both needed to be by his side.

Coriolanus might've been a lot of things, but he was a very loving and devoted husband; father. Seeing his son hurt because people didn't like him made him furious. He didn't care if somebody went after him, but going after his family was an entirely different thing.

And those District dogs that wanted prime rib instead of the scraps they got for mining coal all damn day are going to pay. They were going to pay dearly for hurting his son.

Because nobody hurts what's his and gets away with it.

Coriolanus canceled his meetings concerning the mine production, only to have the mine bosses rounded up in the middle of the night and thrown into jail. The reason? Well, they allowed their workers to turn into a violent mob; they didn't keep them in line. 

The President ordered the mine bosses to be executed at the hanging tree for being an accessory to the crimes of their mining employees.

Talk about executions…

President Snow had 100 miners rounded up and sent to the gallows as punishment for what happened to your son. It didn't matter that those people weren't the ones that threw the moltov cocktail. They were disgruntled district 12 citizens. They protested and pushed back; causing a rebellion. 

They're rebels.

Rebels! 

So they had to hang to serve as an example; a lesson on what happens when one goes against the Capitol. Dares to bite the hand that feeds it.

And your older brother, Rein. 

Well…

Your husband's currently having a meeting with him in his jail cell. 

“Heard you hung 100 innocent people.” Rein told Coriolanus as the imposing platinum blonde devil took set a thermos down on the table your brother was chained too.

“Those scum were not innocent. Their little rebellious outburst hurt my son and scared my pregnant wife.” Coriolanus told his brother-in-law, who he hasn't seen in a good 5 years, while taking a seat across from him. “I don't play around when it comes to the safety of my family, Mr. Halvir.” The president told the dark haired man, who had broad shoulders due to years of work in the coal mines, while reaching for the thermos. 

Rein narrowed his Seam grey eyes at President Snow. A man he hates for turning you against your kind, against the district that you were born and raised in. Oh, how your brother hates your husband for being your keeper, for turning you into a Capitol puppet.

Unscrewing the thermos’ lid, Coriolanus made the condescending remark of, “You should know that first hand, considering how I moved Y/N out of your shithole hovel in the Seam once she became mine.” 

“You made her choose between you and us when she was too young to even understand the damning consequences of that choice. I hope your kid brings home somebody you hate; somebody that drives a wedge in your perfectly fucked up Presidential First Family.”  Rein snarled at Coriolanus while the platinum blonde man poured some of the hot tea from the thermos into a plastic cup- that also served as a topper for the thermos.

“Mmm…” Your husband hummed, tasting the tea. “Still hot.” He remarked, setting the tea down in front of your older brother. Gesturing to the plastic cup, Coriolanus simply said, “For you.”

Rein looked between the cup and Coriolanus, only to nod and take it. His chains were long enough to make it possible for him to pick up the cup and bring it to his lips, but short enough to ensure that he couldn't lunge across the table to do the president any harm.

“How's your boy?” Rein asked, sipping on the tea. 

“Why do you care? He's just the product of a Capitol snake and a sellout whore, isn't he?” Coriolanus seethed, hate dripping from every word like venom. Leaning forward, eyes watching the miner intently as he sipped on the tea, he asked, “Do you have any little bastards running around?”

“No.” Rein shook his head. Setting down his cup, he said, “Me and Ashlie decided not to have kids. That it's not worth it, with the risk of reapings and all.”

Coriolanus’ lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Then the Halvir name dies with you.”

Rein's Seam grey eyes flashed with confusion, only for realization to shine in them as he began to feel his throat close up. Clawing at his neck, in a desperate, but useless attempt for air, your brother realized that your husband had poisoned him. He began to feel his blood boil on his body, feel it bubble up from his stomach and travel up his throat. Shaking, he used the last bit of his strength to muster out the word, “Why?”

Coriolanus pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, only to use it to stifle a small, bloody cough. A small side effect of drinking poison, but at least he had taken the antidote prior. He smiled wickedly, a thin layer of crimson staining his teeth, as he told Rein, “Your little stunt caused that crowd to attack me; to hurt my son. Anyone that hurts my family will pay with their lives.” 

Watching the light dim in your brother's eyes as blood pooled uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, your husband leaned over him and whispered, “Snow lands on top.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

[fandomnerd9602]

Test Drive

Actress!Wanda x Stunt!Reader

Inspired by the film ‘The Fall Guy’

The movie had wrapped. You and your superstar actress girlfriend Wanda Maximoff were stronger than ever. You were over the moon, knowing that you had her back in your life.

You and Wanda still lived in the same town and the two of you wanted to take things slow.

You helped Wanda pack up her trailer as the shoot was winding down.

“Still got the one bedroom on Lee Ave?” Wanda asks with a smile as she totes two boxes.

“Yeah. You still on Kirby Drive, superstar?”

Wanda offered you a little wink as answer. And then Tony, your friend and director, came by with the GMC truck in a trailer.

“So where do I send the truck?” He asks with a smirk.

“Tony, I thought that was a rental” you chuckle.

“Nope. It is a token of my appreciation for coming in to help out the film.” Tony balances playfully on his heels. “Why don’t you take Wanda out on a date in it? Maybe do some donuts?”

Wanda let out a slight gasp. The truth is that you and Wanda had done donuts a couple times up at her little ranch. She would never admit it but the thought of doing donuts again made her giddy. Doing donuts in the dirt areas of her ranch always raised her adrenaline levels, and with that came the need to burn thru that adrenaline. You gave her a wink, knowing exactly why she was gasping.

Well it took you and Wanda a couple days but you each got moved back into your houses. You weren’t ready to move in together yet. Your relationship had just got a fresh slate, you kinda wanted to take it slow.

But that didn’t stop you from driving Wanda up to her ranch and helping her unload her bags.

“I could’ve done it on my own” she gives you a kiss on the cheek as thanks.

“I know. But I wanted to see the old place again.” You admitted. Wanda’s ranch always felt like home.

You helped your superstar girlfriend finished putting her items away. Your eyes wandered to a nearby photo of you and her. She never took it down, you couldn’t help but smile.

Your eye wandered out the door to your truck and a nearby dirt area. Wanda came down the stairs.

“So I was thinking we could have…what are you thinking about?” Her tone gave an air of mischief in its own right.

“There’s that dirt field out front. Perfect for donuts” you gave her a wink.

Wanda bit her lip softly, a blush making its way across her face.

“That’s probably a bad idea” she giggled.

“Or a really good one” you held up the keys to your new GMC.

Stunt driving really comes in handy. You worked as a stunt driver for several productions before you met Wanda. The very first thing that impressed her was you doing donuts in a mustang.

Wanda, ever the superstar daredevil, followed you out the door of her ranch house and straight into your truck. You got buckled and so did she.

You could tell the anticipation was already getting to her. Her breathing was uneasy but in a way that gave the impression she was gonna enjoy this completely.

“Buckled in?” You asked with a knowing smirk.

She pats her belt. And with that you turn the key. The engine roars to life. Wanda was already on cloud nine as you hit the accelerator and speed into the dirt field.

“Ohmygosh! Oh my gosh!!!” She was euphorically screaming and giggling as you turned the wheel, causing the truck to turn in the dirt.

Debris was flying left and right as your GMC made its first complete turn. Wanda leaned her head against your shoulder. The two of you were lost in the moment.

The setting Sun was spinning around the two of you. And for one single moment, it felt like the world itself revolved around you and the love of your life.

A shout of joy and euphoria escapes her lips. Wanda would never say it aloud but she missed this. Going thru any sort of adventurous moment with you was one of her major turn-ons.

The sun was almost completely over the horizon as you pulled the truck to a stop right in front of her porch. Wanda’s chest was heaving from all the excitement.

“I missed this” you whispered to her. “Little moments like this.”

“Don’t worry” she smiled, “we’ll have many more.”

You tried to open your door. Wanda immediately hit the locks. Her eyes were a little dark, she bit her tongue seductively.

You silently pushed your seat back, allowing her just the space she needed. Wanda jumped from the passenger seat and right into your lap. She kissed you so fiercely, like you were her oxygen.

“Wanda” you chuckled.

“You know how doing donuts gets me,” she playfully growls in your ear.

The two of you spent a bit more time out there.

You and Wanda had a long road ahead of you and the two of you looked forward to going down it together. And hey if you can do some donuts on that road together…you’ll enjoy that together too.

Tags @olsenmyolsen @lifespectator @aloneodi @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #o17 | glory

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows glory (praise kink) || chan x fem!reader summary: you and chan met as volunteers for the local cabaret theatre, working as stagehands, but when it blossoms into something more, and the temperatures drop below freezing, chan figures out a way to warm you up, and fast... warnings: praise kink, and all that entails, plot heavy, fluffy, lots and lots of praise, 'daddy' petnames, non-idol AU

word count: 4k masterlist - click here

The first time he let it slip, you two were still just friends.

You both volunteered as stagehands at the downtown cabaret theater, and you had been sent out to purchase some last-minute supplies. Your coat was dripping wet over your arm from running through the rain, a shopping basket hooked in the crook of your opposite elbow, and you held the phone to your ear, spinning around to decipher the location of the checkout.

"Did you get the safety pins?" Chan's voice came through the phone.

You nodded, even though Chan couldn't see you. "Yeah."

"And-"

"I also got the glue gun sticks, an extra pack of AA batteries, and a small can of black acrylic paint," you rattled off.

"Good girl," Chan responded, genuinely impressed.

At the time, he had no idea that his words had a much different impact on you than he could have ever imagined. The idea of him praising you under very different circumstances had ignited a fire within you, one you couldn't ignore.

The season progressed and Chan worked up the courage to ask you out for drinks and now you two are barely two months into a very new relationship. Still working together, now as hired staff seasonally, at the cabaret theatre, you two are now working together on helping out with the production of A Christmas Carol.  It’s two months until showtime, so you’re in the thick of things, managing a team of stage designers. Chan is managing the costume department and overseeing music direction. He has a brief gap between meetings, so he decides to surprise you by grabbing your favorite drink and muffin from the local coffee shop. After leaving a generous tip in the paper cup at the front of the register, he heads back to the theater through the brisk winter cold.

Chan enters the theater's workshop, finding you in your office. He closes the door behind him, greets you with a kiss and your drink, and then takes off his coat. As he hangs it on the nearby coat rack, you take a sip of the drink, savoring the warm, spicy flavors of your favorite spiced winter beverage. Opening the small, white paper bag, you take out your favorite muffin. "I needed this so badly. I was late this morning and couldn't grab breakfast."

"Why didn't you call? You know I could've picked you up," Chan says, sitting on the edge of your desk as you ease into your chair. You blow on your drink, preparing it for a sip. "Your car's been in the shop for weeks now. Any word on what's going on with it?"

You pause for a moment, taking a sip of your drink as you ponder how to address the issue. You've been avoiding Chan's questions about your mode of transportation since receiving the bad news. You're hesitant to reveal that you don't have everything under control, fearing it might push Chan away. After swallowing, you gather your thoughts and finally speak up.

"It's gonna be a while," you say, your voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

At this point, Chan has confirmed his suspicion that you're intentionally keeping this information from him. He nods, taking in your response, and glances at his watch. Fiddling with one of its links, he contemplates whether you've been together long enough for him to press you about these matters. He doesn't want to start an argument or intrude on your privacy, but he's genuinely concerned, especially with the weather getting colder and the distance you live from the theatre.

"That... doesn't sound good," Chan finally says, after you've taken another sip, looking back at you. You can feel the hesitation in his words and sense that he's holding something back. Your fingers nervously tap against your cup in an unknown rhythm that's stuck in your head. "Yeah, the engine, it's kind of... shot," you say, tapping the cup at a higher tempo. You find the lid of your cup more interesting than Chan's attempt to hide his shock. He knows he's not great at concealing his emotions, and he clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by his watch.

"Wow, that's... I'm sorry to hear that. Engine troubles can be expensive. You know if you need any help at all—"

"I'm just getting another car. I've been looking, but I haven't had the time yet, especially with the production coming up, so I've been taking the trains. I'm okay, though, Chan, really," you reassure him. Setting your cup down, you interlock your fingers, resting your chin on them, and offer him a disarming smile.

"Since you've had time to come visit me, I'm guessing you're ahead of schedule?" you inquire, relieved when you see his focus shift, steering the conversation in a different direction. 

For now, you've evaded his questions again.

"Like a well-oiled machine. In fact, there's a little bit left over in the budget to get the fog machine fixed."

"Chan!" you laugh, "How did you manage that?"

"A few people owed me a few favors. I know how much you wanted to give those Ghost of Christmas Future scenes more ambiance." Chan embraces you, and you eagerly rush into his open arms, hugging him tightly, the scent of his shampoo and cologne filling your senses. When you let go, he slowly turns you around in his embrace, his arms encircling your body, your back against his chest.

"Thank you for this. Oh, Hailey will be so excited to hear this, and Thomas, we'll have to space out the set for Act Three, but that's no problem. I—" You stop yourself, your hand on your forehead as you catch yourself from rambling again. Chan loves seeing you excited like this, so he never stops you during your enthusiastic outbursts. You turn around, your arms resting on his shoulders, and you kiss him, expressing your gratitude with a hundred silent thank-yous.

Chan finds the courage to speak out, his hands gently resting along your waist. "Please let me give you a ride, at least to and from here. You live outside the city, and I'd feel better knowing you're safe in this cold." He anticipates a rebuttal and adds, "Just for the cabaret. Whatever else you do is your business, but if you did need me for other rides, I'd be up for it—just needed to get that out there," nodding affirmatively to you and himself.

You decide to accept his offer this time. You had guessed wrong; it had never left his mind the entire time.

"Fine," you roll your eyes with a small smirk, "I just know you live in the city, and that's out of your way."

"It's not, honest," Chan stands up and leans forward, kissing your forehead. "You're really special to me." With a smile, he heads out and adds, "I'll meet you in the lobby after rehearsal."

"You're really special to me..."

Those words reverberate in your mind for the next four hours of work. They're louder than the hammering of nails into wooden boards, louder than saws cutting through plywood, and even louder than the timpanis in the orchestra pit.

As you work, your head down while distressing the paint on the side of a fake building, you can hear Chan stopping and starting the musicians, going over pieces meticulously. It's hard not to lock eyes with him when he glances over at you occasionally.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan is entranced by the way you bring a vision to life, ingeniously assembling pieces that leave him baffled. He observes you walking among other stagehands, adeptly adjusting a streetlamp, your gloved hands confidently resting on your hips, toolbelt hanging down. You point, shake your head, and oversee adjustments, stepping back and tilting your head, scrutinizing it from various angles before granting it a thumbs-up.

Every so often, you cast an inconspicuous glance over your shoulder, but Chan has already shifted his focus long enough to deceive you into thinking he wasn't watching. He splits his attention between you and the piano, directing the musicians, a sight he relishes.

At one point, a designer stands beside the piano with a partially costumed actor, waiting for the right moment to approach Chan. The designer holds up a piece of velvet red fabric against the navy blue costume.

"Was thinking maybe this material?" the stylist asks.

"Nah, not really, the blue is better against the gold buttons," Chan nods, providing his expert opinion.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Thomas' voice teases, breaking your focus and startling you from your reverie.

"Oldest one in the book. And corniest," you quip back.

"Don't do it, boo. I'd be distracted if Chan were mine too," Thomas remarks, and you both sneak another glance in Chan's direction. "He is a delicious piece of sweet potato pie, ain't he?"

You nudge Thomas playfully, and both of you head backstage.

As the day concludes, everyone gathers around for announcements and updates from the director. Afterward, people begin to disperse. You're embraced by hugs from Thomas and other crew members who've become like family. The holiday break is upon you, and some are leaving town to enjoy their vacation. The lobby teems with people, and amid the crowd, you spot Chan. You hear him chatting with others, and as he finishes, his expression brightens as he spots you.

You’re really special to me… You give Chan a warm hug. It's cozy inside, a welcome refuge from the cold winter winds outside.

"Ready?" he asks with a grin.

You nod, and together, you make your way to the exit. The bitter cold greets you as you step outside, and the wind feels like needles on your exposed cheeks. You tug your scarf up around your nose to protect yourself from the icy gusts. Chan holds you even closer as you both step out into the open, and he opens the passenger door of his nearby parked car.

The car's interior offers immediate warmth, and you welcome it with relief. Chan yawns as the silence settles in around you. He had a busy but good day, and now he's just as eager to hear about yours, especially after getting lost in watching you do your thing.

"Are you sure you wanna do this? Like, drive me all the way home?" you ask, your voice tinged with doubt.

"Yes, I want to drive you all the way home," Chan says with a chuckle. He starts the car, shifting it into reverse to back out of the parking space. "And then I want to walk you all the way to your door, and then I want to kiss you, like we're a couple of teenagers from the fifties."

You laugh at his sweet sentiment.

"I'm serious! You make this relationship thing feel like it's worth something, like it's something I can do... forever," Chan says. He starts to feel a little self-conscious about gushing and quickly dials it back. "You're just... really special to me." There it is again.

"Chan," you begin, and there's a moment of hesitation.

"Yeah?" Chan's gaze remains fixed on the road, but he's eager to hear your words.

"I love you," you say, surprising both yourself and him with the sudden confession.

Each quiet second Chan spends frozen on the road ahead makes you want to backpedal.  It’s too soon.  Are you dumb? He’s gonna think you’re crazy.  It’s not even three months yet.

“I love you too.” He says, and it comes out like his own kind of word vomit, at the tail end of his ruminating thoughts of whether or not you actually meant your statement.  Then he guilts himself for doubting the expression of your feelings. Chan would just like to get out of his own head for thirty seconds.

"Ok, now that that's settled," you say, your humor helping to break the tension, and you settle into your seat with a sigh. "I'm sorry I get so weird about you helping me sometimes. I just feel like you have your shit together, and I'm still trying to figure it all out. I know you didn't sign up to get a girlfriend with a bunch of problems—baggage."

Chan snorts, a mixture of amusement and relief. He's glad to hear that this is what's been on your mind, that you've been carrying a self-imposed burden. He appreciates the vulnerability in your words. Sometimes he needs to feel needed, especially in a relationship.

"I'm not sure what your definition of having my shit together is, but this version of me, isn't it," he says with a smile. "I didn't sign up for a girlfriend with a perfect life. I signed up for Y/N, and all that comes with her. How dare you short me the fries to my combo?"

You both share a laugh, and as the car settles into the quiet hum of the engine, you notice snow falling and sticking to the slushy roads as you leave the city behind and enter the suburbs. You check the weather forecast on your phone, prompting you to speak up.

"There's a frost advisory tonight, love," you muse. "You think you should stay over tonight? The roads are gonna be awful."

Chan hadn't planned on it, but he realizes he has nothing urgent to rush home to, and he's getting pretty tired too.

"Good idea."

It takes another thirty minutes, but soon, Chan is pulling into your driveway, turning off the car and walking you to your door just as he said he would. He waits patiently next to you, his hands warming in his pockets as he looks around at the snow falling and piling up, covering the black streets in blinding white reflected against the streetlights.

It's a perfect night to snuggle with a special someone.

You turn on the music, an old Aqualung album filling the former silence, making the blanket of white outside look even more magical. You had never found yourself enjoying the quiet company of another until you started dating Chan. It's a new experience for both of you since you can get lost in conversation for hours. But with Chan, there's no pressure to keep coming up with new topics. It's one of the many reasons why he enjoys your company. He can just be himself around you.

You come over to join Chan as he sits on the floor against the couch. He initially begins to unfold his crossed legs to make room for you, but you extend a leg over his, straddling him instead, holding two cups of hot cocoa in your hands.

"Oh, well hello, beautiful," he chuckles, taking one of the mugs from you.

The way he says it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but tease him. You sip your drink, looking at him with a mischievous gaze. "There's just something about the way you say those things to me."

"What things, baby?" Chan asks, playing along. He knows what you mean, but he loves hearing it from you. "When I tell you how pretty you are? How I get caught staring at you at work at least five times a day by the other volunteers?"

You can't contain your giggles, and he takes your mug and his, placing them on the coffee table as he cups your face. "I can feel how hot your cheeks are getting too."

"Because!"

"Because why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't list every reason why I've fallen in love with you to your face."

You bite your lip, realizing Chan's winning the playful banter. He holds onto your hips, shifting himself underneath you and readjusting, all while focusing on being romantic rather than all the nasty things he wants to do to you with you straddling him like this.

He kisses you, gently at first, and then more passionately. "For one, you are beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that..." You notice the drop in Chan's volume and the edge his tone gains, making you crave him in ways you haven’t been able t0 have him yet. “I like that.” “Yeah?  You do? You should, ‘cause you’re a pretty girl, my pretty girl of course.” Chan's eyes linger on your lips, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a single kiss that leaves both of you lingering, breathing heavily, your faces close.

"Call me your pretty girl again, and you might start something you can't finish."

"Who says I can't finish it, pretty girl?" Chan counters with a sly smile, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Chan is the next to initiate another kiss, drawing you into a passionate embrace. His hands trail up the bare skin of your back, hidden beneath your hoodie, leaving a trail of sinfire in their wake. You lean your head back with a gasp as he hums against your neck.

"Listen to those breaths you take, so sweet for me," Chan says, eager to hear more of your reactions. He sucks hard enough to leave a bruise under your collarbone, making you gasp in response.

"Oh my God, Chan, I—" You start to express concern, but the juxtaposition of his arousal and your own, both concealed beneath clothing, interrupts your common sense. He shouldn't be marking you up like this. You realize you'll need to wear a turtleneck or a collared shirt to cover your collarbone.  “B-Be careful-”

"I'm sorry, baby. You're just so intoxicating, you know that?" Chan manages to peel himself away from devouring you for a brief moment, a feat that takes immense self-control. "And you have the most adorable smile."

You try to hide your smile, but he pulls your arm away. "No, let me see it. Look at how you get when I compliment you. I can't tell if you love it or hate it, but it's damn hot seeing you get all shy like this. Makes me want to say more, see how else your body responds to me."

"I think it's turning me on," you admit, your voice slightly shaky, and a coy smile forms on your lips.

“You think?” Chan states more than questions, running his nose and lips against your chest, peppering kisses up your neckline. He sucks again, leaving another mark, this time closer to your jaw. You moan in response, and he tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss. Your lips bruise against his, swollen as he pulls back, looking up at you as if you were Aphrodite herself.

“Thank you, babygirl. I’m sorry I left a couple of marks.”

“It’s okay, you should leave a couple more.”

So Chan does just that.

You hold onto his neck as he moves forward, pressing you into the floor, lifting your hoodie up and sliding it over your arms so he can lay more open-mouthed, deliciously wet kisses down to your navel. He dips his tongue in, taking your piercing between his teeth. Your back arches, and he's going for your jeans, ready to unbutton them, but he stops, sitting up on his knees.

Chan knows if he goes any further, it would be akin to dragging him from quicksand.

He has to ask first.

“We’ve never gone this far,” Chan says, feeling somewhat awkward for not just outright asking you. You realize, of course, that you two haven't gone this far, but Chan wants to ensure you're comfortable. How much further are you willing to go? Chan can easily wrap things up right here, but the way you're writhing underneath his lips every time they press into your skin, leading further and further down south; Chan needs you to tell him otherwise. “I want to go further,” you say, your thumbs hooked into the top of your pants. “You told me you'd finish it, didn't you?”

You assist him in getting your bottoms off, and he nuzzles against the damp fabric of your panties, taking in your scent. “Had no idea you’d smell this amazing,” Chan says, pulling your panties aside to slip a finger in, curling it up. “You must really want me, hmm?”

“Mhm, I do.”

“Can you take more fingers, baby?” “Yeah, I can,” you nod fervently, vigorously, eager to feel him spread you further. Chan gets two more fingers inside of you, and he pulls the panties even further around your lips, leaning down to kiss and suck your clit. He enjoys the way his saliva catches the light as you buck your hips up.

“Prettiest pussy I've ever seen, babygirl. Are you going to let my cock feel it too?”

“Yes, please, daddy?”

Chan has to process the fact that you've called him this. He nearly short-circuits.

“You must want to be my good girl tonight,” he says as he pulls off his hoodie, tossing it aside and unbuttoning his pants.

“I'd give anything to be your good girl, Chan.”

“Anything?”

His fat cock slaps against your wet slit as he holds it firmly. “Anything.” you begin to twist your hips, attempting to grind in a way that will make him slide inside you. You're wet, it's spread everywhere, slicking your inner thighs and cheeks. All it takes is one good thrust, and he can –

“I want this, right here,” his firm taps stop you in place, and his eyes lock onto yours as he pushes his cockhead between your folds, stopping as soon as he's sheathed inside, feeling your walls begging for more. “You feel so wet, baby. Is this for me?” he asks, inching inside until he's halfway in. Chan wants to stop, but the sensation of your walls squeezing him proves to be too much, and he bottoms out inside of you.

“Yes!” You cry out, stronger and louder than you intended, spawning Chan to thrust again, rutting into you. He doesn't always go deep; in fact, he's stroking you at just the right angle to make you see stars as you drag your almond nails down his back, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

“S-sorry,” you hiss, your head falling against the floor as you cum around his cock. “Keep it up, baby,” he encourages you, “You look so good taking me like this right now, so fucking good.”

"I-I look—"

His firm grip on the strands of your hair at the nape of your neck forces your gaze upwards, compelling you to meet his intense, smoldering eyes.

"Beautiful," he breathes as his thrusts take on a deliberate, measured pace. Each motion propels you closer to the precipice of another orgasm, and you can barely keep your eyes open. His hand presses flat against your head, angling it so you can witness the raw, primal connection between your two bodies. "You look beautiful, say it." You gasp and muster the strength to whisper, "Beautiful," as he introduces two of his fingers to your lips. You eagerly accept them, your tongue tantalizingly caressing the pads of his digits, still bearing traces of your earlier essence. He withdraws his fingers and expertly circles your clit with confident, steady pressure, evoking whimpering pleas from deep within you.

"Such a good girl," he praises with a low, smoky voice, pride lacing every word. "I'm so proud of you, baby. Can you cum again for me? I just wanna see that face one more time.” He wants to etch the vision of your blissed-out expression into the depths of his consciousness, ensuring it's the first thing he sees every morning as he awakens with thoughts of you.   Instinctively, you attempt to shield your contorted, furrowed brows with your hands, but Chan swiftly restrains your wrists, pinning them above your head with a powerful grip. His other hand intensifies its attentions to your clit, moving more vigorously.  He pairs this with shallow, accurate thrusts,each one striking your g-spot with unerring accuracy, causing you to unravel until you could think no more.  You’ve been fucked dumb, for the first time in your life.  As you gradually return to your senses, you struggle to find words or even make sense of how another human being can make you feel this extraordinary.

Amidst the haze of your post-orgasmic stupor, a lucid thought pierces through: sex is a potent, heady concoction, a force to be reckoned with.

Then, the second wave of awareness washes over you when you hear Chan's voice, close to your ear, whispering those two potent words, "Good girl." - fin

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 2

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+. This isn't smut yet, but it's fully loaded with lots of sexual tension and spicy thoughts. Swearing.

Summary: Will's dreaded grocery run turns out better than expected, and things dial up a notch when he invites you to watch Benny's fight later that night.

A/N: I have nothing to say other than I love this man with my whole heart and that the smut is coming and it will be A LOT. I'm also having Benny and Will live together in this AU. Will needed the support of his brother after his Publix incident.

Part 1

---

The worst was how they stared. Judging him, casting glances and exchanging whispers as soon as he passed, the weight of never being able to live this down burdening him as if the one bad thing they knew he did outweighed all the other ones they would never know about.

Will pushed his cart along, moving as swiftly as possible through the grocery store, always making it his mission to do his shopping in a faster time than the week before.

He tilted his wrist, checking the time on his watch; nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds since he walked through the automatic doors. He was already ahead of his goal, and only needed to go down two more aisles to get everything he needed.

As he passed an employee stocking shelves who gave him a tense look, he cursed Benny for not coming with him. Will always felt better when he wasn't alone, alone with his thoughts and recollection of all the times he felt the same as he had that day; Benny and his relaxed, usually flippant demeanor brought him some ease when he needed it most.

With a sigh, he turned down the cereal aisle, praying no one else would be there, looking over the list in his hand one last time to ensure he wasn't forgetting anything. Taking note of a young woman at the very end, he steeled himself for the strength to grab a bag of oatmeal and get to the checkout unscathed, praying she would continue assessing the difference between two labels on the products held in her hands and have him remain inconspicuous.

It wasn't until Will got closer that he realized it was you. He stopped in his tracks, standing tall as he tapped his fingers over the handle of the cart, a smile crossing his face as he thought of an appropriate greeting but ultimately became lost in observing you.

Your brows were knitted together, clearly focused on what you were reading or attempting to decipher the better of the two choices before you shook your head and placed one back on the shelf and the other in your cart.

Obviously sensing being watched, you looked up, your expression changing from questioning to relieved when you recognized him standing on the other side of his cart.

"Will! Hi!"

"Hey," he smiled, unable to help himself. "How are you?"

"I'd be better if they stopped putting all but just the necessary ingredients in everything," you laughed, placing your hands behind you to rest on your lower back.

"Yeah, no doubt," he replied, breaking eye contact briefly before looking at you again.

You tilted your head, smiling at him, still smiling at you, "How are you?"

"Better now."

"Good," you said genuinely, keeping your eyes fixed on him as he reached across and grabbed a pack of instant oats from the shelf beside you, his blue eyes not leaving you as he did.

Will couldn't help but let his mind wander, feeling the need to close the distance between your bodies and frame you in with his arms, capturing your lips with his until they were glistening with the moisture from his mouth and made raw from his beard.

He noticed your chest rise and fall slowly despite not looking directly at it, registering how your pulse thrummed in the side of your neck, your pupils dilating while your tongue slipped between your lips and licked them before you spoke in a breathy voice; your body betraying your mind that was clearly sharing similar thoughts as him.

"Well, I'm all set here," you began, breaking the spell cast between you when you returned to stand behind your cart.

"Yeah, me too," Will fibbed, wanting to walk with you to the checkout rather than getting the ice cream specifically requested by Benny.

"Chocolate chip cookie dough! No, wait, maybe something with caramel in it," Benny had called from the other room, skirting through quickly to catch Will before he went out the door.

"Both. Get both."

"Jesus Christ, Benny, are you fucking five?"

"I need to try to get up to the next weight class, man. Just get me the fucking ice cream."

Will grinned to himself, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Benny was going to be so pissed.

"I'm glad I ran into you," Will admitted, helping load your bags into the back of your car.

“I am, too,” you spoke through your smile, looking up at him as he held his arms up on the open door of your trunk, providing you with a view of his toned muscles you often had the pleasure of watching him sculpt.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asked, shutting the trunk closed before turning around to lean against the back of it.

You shrugged and shook your head, trying to mask the smile threatening to creep across your lips, "Nothing."

You watched Will transfer the piece of gum in his mouth from one side over to the other with his tongue, the action making that incessant ache between your legs return just as it did all the other times he did pretty much anything, and your mouth watered at the thought of feeling his tongue move against yours like that, amongst other places on your body.

"Benny has a fight tonight, if you're interested in coming to watch," he explained, folding his arms across his chest as he stared you down, the playful glint in his eyes not unnoticed.

"That sounds great. What time?"

"Starts at seven, Benny will be on around eight or so depending how quickly the first guys bloody each other up."

You laughed, nodding as he continued.

"I'll have to walk him out and leave you for a bit during his fight, but the rest of the night I'm all yours," he smirked, making your skin flush from head to toe.

"Okay, that's great, I'll see you at seven, then," you grinned, biting your bottom lip to help try to disguise how excited you were for this.

"See you at seven," he confirmed, patting your car twice with his large hand before turning to walk toward his truck, glancing back at you obviously as he did.

Will unlocked his truck and tossed his grocery bags in, feeling a surge of happiness and desire course through him that he hadn't felt in too long a time. He shut the door and started his way back toward the entrance of the store, intending on getting Benny three flavours of ice cream to choose from.

Will stood outside the side entrance, watching the crowd flow in and out of the parking lot and into the arena through the gate toward the front of the building, waiting for your arrival.

Seeing you once already today and knowing he was about to see you again had him on cloud nine, and in a mood those closest to him noticed, especially Benny, who was just on the other side of the door starting his warm-up.

Checking the time on his watch, Will sighed with impatience, eager to see your smile again and be the one to make it appear on your gorgeous face over and over.

The door creaked open, Benny peeking his head around it, his face and hair sweaty from the series of push ups and jogging he always did prior to a light spar with his trainer.

Will nodded his head at him as he unwrapped a piece of gum and put it in his mouth.

"What are you doing out here?" Benny asked, looking around to see his older brother standing solo.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Who? Fish said he wasn't coming tonight."

"Uh," Will hesitated, shifting on his feet and breaking eye contact to look at the ground as he debated being honest with Benny in wanting to avoid his pestering.

Just then, your car pulled up, catching Will's attention and drawing Benny's, both Miller's watching as you parked in the vacant spot beside Will's truck. Will silently approved your decision, thinking how the opportunity for a drawn-out goodnight could easily take place between your vehicles.

"God damn," Benny breathed, his humoured grin splitting across his face as he put two and two together, earning a warning look from Will who crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the brick wall again.

"The hot girl from the gym you've been eye-fucking? How long has this been going on?"

"Nothing's going on, Ben."

"Bullshit. That's why you've been in such a good mood."

"Nothing has happened," Will stressed, raising his eyebrows at him as you got out of your car and started making your way over.

"Yet!" Benny laughed, excited for his brother to finally move on from his recent past. "How long has it been, man?"

"Fuck off, Benny," Will urged, not wanting to draw out this questioning any longer out of risk you would hear it.

"How long, Will?"

"You know exactly how long. Now fuck off and go warm up, I'll see you for walk-out."

Benny banged his open palm against the steel door a few times before turning around to let it close behind him, his hooting and hollering still heard even after it sealed shut.

"Hey," Will greeted you, standing up straight and feeling more than tempted to lean down and kiss your lips as he watched them stretch out in that smile that drove him mad. "Benny's just warming up, let's grab a drink."

It was a rowdy crowd tonight, and you felt as if you were buzzing on behalf of the energy in the large room that had a lingering stench of sweat and booze, but you really knew it was all due to the man sitting beside you who kept leaning in to speak in your ear because of how loud everything was.

Each time he did, you felt yourself instinctively tipping your head to the side to open your neck up to him, your eyes closing every time his breath happened to fan over your skin, the sensation making you desperately pray for him to place his lips on you and scratch you with the bleached hairs that surrounded his lips.

The first two fights finished without an ounce of attention paid to them by either of you, and as Will downed what remained in his beer, he leaned close to you again, his eyes slowly moving up from your mouth to your eyes while a seductive smile played on his lips.

"I've gotta go back there now, you gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine," you assured. "If any of these hillbillies start harassing me I know who to call."

"Damn right," he smirked, his grin crooked on his face, his blue eyes glowing in the dim stage lighting as he placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze.

You watched faithfully as he stood and walked away, admiring how his jeans fit over his ass just as you did with his shorts or track pants at the gym, finding your senseless desire growing for him in a way you were sure you could no longer handle.

Once he was out of sight, you chugged the rest of your beer and smoothed your hands over your hair, willing yourself composure to get through the rest of the night without pouncing on him.

Knowing there would still be a few minutes before Benny's fight, you stood and got in line to grab another beer for you and Will, hoping the alcohol would help settle the frenzy of nerves and arousal taking over you.

Right as you returned to your seat, the announcer came over the sound system, introducing the other fighter and then Benny, making you stand on your toes to look over the taller heads in the crowd in order to see him standing in the doorway with a focused ferocity on his face. Will was close behind him, clapping and nodding as they began walking through the hoard of people split between yelling support and jeers at him.

You couldn't help but smile as you watched Will shamelessly support his younger brother, pumping his arms in the air to help motivate the enthusiasm and encouragement on behalf of Benny, even giving some idiot in the crowd the finger who shouted out an insult as he passed.

His blue eyes locked with yours as he strutted by on route to the the cage, winking at you as his cheeks flinched with each chew on the gum between his teeth, your body once again responding by building that undeniable pressure in your core and making your nipples harden as a shiver of confined pleasure ran down your spine.

Holding your cup to your lips, you slowly sipped, watching Will grip the fencing of the cage with his fingers as he prepped Benny one last time, yelling at him to take it nice and slow. Those words decorated by the tone of his voice had you reeling, imagining him saying that very phrase to you only in a very different context.

Turning toward you while Benny squared up, Will walked the few steps over to where you stood - too excited to sit on the old bleachers - and took the full cup of beer you held in your spare hand, smiling at you appreciatively.

"You good?"

You nodded as you took a sip, catching a stray drip that clung to your lip with the back of your hand, and licked your lips to retrieve the rest, feeling slightly embarrassed but also catching the way Will’s pupils dilated at the sight of moisture hanging implicitly from your mouth.

"How long has he been doing this?" you asked, louder than you normally would in order to be heard over the raucous.

Will raised his eyebrows and blinked as if he was trying to think, like he didn't keep track of everything Benny did too and didn't know the exact amount of years and fights he had supported and helped coach his younger brother through. "This will be his twenty-third match. He's doing a lot more now we stopped actively touring,” he explained, licking his lips and sighing heavily enough for you to see his chest rise and fall sharply. "Let's go, Benny, you've got this!" he shouted rather than continuing his explanation about their work, prompting you to reach your hand up to squeeze his arm reassuringly, feeling his well-honed muscles through his hoodie easily.

Benny won his fight quickly and made it seem completely effortless, his ear to ear smile and prideful cheering bringing out a chuckle from Will as he stepped out of the cage and over to where you both stood, engulfing his brother in a hug where they aggressively slapped each other's backs until they parted.

“I'm proud of you, man,” Will grinned, handing him a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

“Easiest hundred bucks I've ever made!”

“I'll meet you out back in a bit,” Will nodded while Benny smiled at you and said ‘hey’.

“Nooo rush, brother.”

Benny’s cheeky tone made you bite your lip, happy for him to be encouraging his brother to pursue the things you hoped he would, finding yourself craving more than ever to be in Will’s presence for as long as you could now that you had been given this much.

He turned to you, another crooked grin playing on his lips that would hold you completely unaccountable if you were to reach up and kiss them like you wanted to now.

"I'll walk you to your car," he purred, placing his hand on the small of your back, applying gentle pressure that urged you forward through the dispersing crowd, his masterful way of taking the lead letting that submissive part in your psyche bloom in anticipation.

The air had turned cooler since you were last outside, some of the day's humidity dying out to allow a fresher breeze to dance over your skin, lighting you up with goosebumps that made you hyper-aware of the feel of your clothes laying against it, and how Will's eyes remained locked on you.

Neither of you had said a word since exiting the building, the silence not awkward but rather charged, like both of you were waiting for the other to make the first move, the tension between you palpable.

Will smiled and shook his head, letting out a small chuckle as he leaned against his truck and folded his toned arms across his chest.

"I had fun tonight," you started through your own smile, unable to hold it back when you were looking at his so brightly showing through his blond facial hair. "Thank you for inviting me."

"You're welcome," he said slowly, shifting which leg he was putting more of his weight on. "I'm glad you came."

That phrase shouldn't have done anything to you, normally such an innocent string of words, but the way he said it had you instinctively picking up on any little thing that could be a hint at what he wanted to do to you; your mind torturing you in twisting something to mirror what you craved.

"What will you do with the rest of your night?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

You sighed, putting your hands in your back pockets and shrugging as you thought.

"Nothing," you said honestly, wondering if your night was about to become a whole lot more exciting.

Will pushed off the side of his truck, standing tall before you.

"Is there something you would like to be doing?"

It was impossible to keep in the surprised laugh that blew out of your lungs, and you licked your lips while trying to come up with an answer that wasn't one that would reveal the truth of what you wished your night would revolve around.

Will took another step toward you, close enough you caught his scent as you inhaled deeply and held that breath in, steeling yourself for what you hoped was the inevitable.

You let your eyes close, feeling him lingering before your face, waiting.

When the pad of his thumb smoothed over your lower lip, you couldn't contain the soft moan that escaped you, and you sucked in another breath only to trap it again.

Breathe, you told yourself, having to think of the mechanics behind how that natural process worked while playing back him coaching you through it at the gym.

Will could barely contain himself, the effort to hold himself back straining every fiber in his body, watching as you completely melted to his miniscule advance, his breathing and heart rate increasing while yours seemed to have paused altogether.

"Breathe," he murmured, more to himself but to you as well, watching your chest rise as you drew in air to your lungs while he did the same.

His gaze fell to his thumb that still rested on your lip, the incredible urge to see what it felt like to brush his against them overwhelming and disrupting what composure he had left.

Your eyes opened, locking in with his, the sight of you standing ready for him forcing him to pull in a long breath that he sighed out slowly through his nose.

"You have to learn to control yourself," he said, "even when it's something you really fucking want."

His speech was more to himself than to you, but when you nodded your head up and down obediently, he knew he would need to work harder than normal to keep himself in line.

"Shutting down basic instincts is hard," he continued, the slight emphasis he put on the last word another blow to your resolve. "To be able to manipulate until you've regained that focus, honing in on what you're supposed to be doing rather than what you need…"

His voice was low, the change in it one even he took note of, and daring himself even further to test his limits, he leaned in closer and hovered beside your ear.

"...And sometimes it's about knowing when it's okay to let yourself lose that control."

Will inhaled deeply as he backed away from you, like he was stepping back from the ledge, his amusement in your expression that displayed such fury and lust making him smirk.

"And are you okay with losing that control?" you asked, bravery embellishing your question.

“I don't ever do anything without thinking it through a hundred times, and believe me when I say I've thought this over even more than that.”

"This?" Your head tipped to the side, your eyes narrowing as your body swelled with a hope of 'this' referring to him taking complete control over the potential of intense pleasure that stood abeyant between you.

He looked at you seriously, the rise of his eyebrows accentuating the creases on his forehead, his eyes widening to prove his point in what he was about to say.

“I want you.”

You swallowed thickly, his admission so point-blank and forward it flooded you with a fresh wave of arousal, your body responding naturally by your nipples pressing almost painfully against the thin lace of your bra while more wetness gathered between your legs to stain your thong.

He looked at you earnestly, his blue eyes displaying so many emotions that you craved to see them hold again and again.

“If I do this with you, I'm going all-in and there will be no stopping, and I'm afraid of letting myself do that after everything that's happened.”

“I trust you, Will,” you said softly, your heart aching for him tenfold, your want for him not diminishing despite his best efforts to make it.

He looked down at the ground, shifting some gravel with his boot.

“Yeah? Well,” he glanced back up at you, peering through those long, blond lashes, “I don't know if I trust myself.”

Will blinked and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, sighing out as if it was his signal to end the conversation there.

You were tempted to say more, to assure him that none of this or the things he had done would scare you away but didn't want to press him, being understanding to the fact that he had probably gone through more trauma in his life in the military than you could begin to fathom.

A man like Will didn’t come by often; you could be patient.

"See you at the gym tomorrow?" Will asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hmm, yeah, I'll be there late, though, I'm working a longer shift.”

“Okay,” he nodded, smiling just enough that the skin around his eyes crinkled.

Feeling slightly guilty that he wasn't giving you what it was clear you needed from him, he took hold of your hand and brought it up to his lips, placing a kiss, and then another one over your knuckles, his resolve starting to fade as he inhaled the scent of your skin and felt your fingers tighten around his.

Breathing deeply and closing his eyes for a moment, his lips lingered there, his beard the perfect combination of soft and rough which only worked to increase your longing to feel it everywhere on your body more than you already did.

“Goodnight,” he eventually spoke, releasing your hand and tucking his own safely in his pockets to help with his temptation to keep touching you.

“‘Night, Will,” you replied, watching as he walked away back to the arena, glancing back at you over his shoulder once before he reached the door.

---

Part 3

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @blairsanne

[misshoneysplayhouse]

Wine Pon You| h.zoe

since the new episode has us hange fans in distress, i have to bless you all with this, i cant get them out of my head and ofc you know i'm higher than a horse dick rn so enjoy, i'm so glad i'm attracting more hange lovers to my page I love yall frl.

song list for this cuz.....babyyyyy my playlist did justice fa meeeee

Remember You- By Wiz Khalifa ft the Weeknd

Wine Pon You- By Doja Cat

Too Deep- dvsn

CW: dom!hange, thigh riding, oral(f!receiving) orgasm denial, backshots pet names (Princess, doll, pretty girl) spitting is mentioned dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, riding and just nasty talking in general, Hange is very vocal

The sounds of heels could be heard behind you, there were girls frantically running around, drenched in anticipation as the big news flooded through the locker room. You could be found in front of your vanity mirror, brushing the finishing touches and making sure your outfit was on just right.

Being a stripper wasn't exactly the life path you had set course for but the fast money became addicting, almost making close to 1 to 2,000 dollars a night, the endless drinks and hot ass people with pockets heavier than the smoke in the building, you couldn't stop now.

But tonight was big, Eren the club's owner had told the you all that the city's biggest bachelor Levi was gonna be in the building along with his whole entourage and that he needed the baddest heifers on the floor!

When he mentioned that, you instantly came to mind, you were a fan favorite in the club which caused a lot of drama to stir up in the lockerroom. That included the ugly stares, the pathetic attempts to steal and take from your money pile, and one thing you didn't play about was your money!

Getting up from the mirror you looked at the text Eren had sent saying to meet him in his office so you snuck your money bag behind it and switched your way up the stairs, hearing the teeth sucking and smart ass remarks from the other girls.

"There she is, my pretty little money maker.." He smiles, watching your body walk in, eyes flickering towards your chest.

"You called me up here for what? It better not be what I think it is." You spoke with a smile, rolling your eyes.

"No good luck kiss tonight, got it." He laughed. "But no, I just learned that Hange, the CEO of Zoe Productions is gonna be with Levi tonight and instead of putting your focus on him, I want you on Hange." He begins, pulling the blunt hanging on his ear to light it.

"Hange? I've never heard of them so they can't be that big." You joked.

"Oh but they are, so don't half ass, they aren't some old geezer- matter of fact, I'll let you see for your own eyes, they just pull up." He smirks, looking at his phone while smokes blows from his nose.

"Yeah, yeah i guess i'll be the judge of them." You chuckle, not taking a single word he said seriously.

He follows you out of his office while you turned one way and he went the other, there were already rumors of you and him fucking and messing around so you didn't want to be caught coming out of his office together to fuel the fire.

the music blasted throughout the building as yoou walked around, skimming the area to find the so called CEO so you could get a good idea on how to drain their pockets dry. The place was packed but you expected nothing less on a Friday night.

After spending a minute too long looking for them, you decided to rack up a few small lap dances in the meantime, you saw one of your coworkers heading towards a huge group of people but you couldn't make out the surprisingly tall figure.

That's when you felt an arm pull you away from the huge crowd, you recognized the cologne and sucked your teeth when you made eye contact with Eren.

"The hell you yanking me up like a toddler for?"

"I don't have time for the complaints, I need you on stage, Sasha sprained her ankle and all the girls are stuck on trying to get into Levi's section. You know how to make a show.." He pleaded.

"Hange will get a better look at you on stage, which will definitely make them call you to the champagne room, and that's the kinda money we need tonight." He went on.

You started to ponder for a slight second, finally agreeing to step on the stage, you weren't foreign to the stage since that's how you started out, you grew your fanbase from it so tonight wouldn't be any different.

I'm currently playing Remember You by Wiz Khalifa and The Weeknd, and umm..I just came everywhere..it'll definitely enhance this whole scene

"If i could have yall's attention,I have a beautiful woman coming out to peform and I want all eyes to the stage, she needs no introduction and hopefully she'll show me a thing or two tonight after this.." Connie starts in the mic, lowering the music.

"Coming to the stage, The devious Miss(S/N)!"

The music flooded your ears as Connie had the speakers in the building at max, the bass thudding through your chest and the lights dimmed to show a cool purple LED like light behind you, almost like the people were watching your shadow.

You started your set, slow and sinfully teasing the crowd by starting on the floor of the stage, you could feel a certain set of eyes on your body out of the hundreds of eyes on you. It felt hot, almost burning with pleasure and you wanted to find its source.

You hooked your leg around the pole, twirling around and climbing up to continue on with your set, spreading your legs wide as you spun around.

The feeling of the bills falling on your skin was like your own personal drug, and tonight you felt as if you were in a shower, yeah Fridays night were packed but this felt off. You dropped down from the pole into a split looking into the crowd, that's when you found the burning eyes staring a hole in you.

Hange.

Wearing a grey suit with the jacket hanging on their shoulders, a black wife beater with a single link gold chain hanging from their neck and a cigar between their slender fingers. You expected some old, 50 year old with a few strands of hair on their head, your mind scrambled up once your eyes connected with theirs.

They were leaning back in the chair, legs spread apart like a slut and their hair in half up half down style. They push up their glasses with their middle finger, adjusting their sitting position by pushing their hips up, leaning forwards towards the stage.

You took this opportunity to "interact" with your fans, crawling towards them to get a better look at what you were dealing with. You've dealt with attractive customers before but this might need a bit more self control.

They had a scar on the left eye, slashing through their eye brow and pretty rings decorated on theirs fingers, you notice them pull out a big band of cash, pulling out a 100 dollar bill and slipping it in your bralette.

You bite your lip, taking the bill and sliding it down to put it on the side of your thong, they take another bill and place it on the other side watching your body move as you went to the other side. You couldn't linger for long or show too much favoritism, no matter how good they looked, your only mission was to tease them long enough to get them in the room.

Once you finished up the lights went back to black and you rushed backstage all the way to the locker room to change and freshen up, you wet up your bottoms on stage and because you knew it was a matter of time before Hange requested you.

You chose a green outfit this time with your breasts sitting out perfectly and the tallest heels you could walk in, heading back into the crowd.

Right on cue, Eren comes up to send you the back and usually you were quick to go ahead and get it over with but you hesitated for a second.

"Whatever happens in the champagne room stays in the champagne room" was the sign that hung over the hallway of the rooms, you could feel two heartbeats colliding with each other as you found the number of the room. You had to get yourself together, this was just another client, another business person to drain and nothing to get yourself worked up on.

But all of your common sense flew out of the window as you walked inside. They were standing tall, pouring two glasses of champagne and handing one to you as you closed the door.

"Thank you.." You said, following them as they called you over with one finger.

"I've heard so much about you..I needed to see for myself if all the talk was true.." They started as they patted their lap, signaling you to straddle them.

You obeyed as you took a sip from your glass, a small smirk forming in the corner of your lips.

"Funny enough, I haven't heard much about you, is that intentional?" You asked, pretending to adjust yourself as you felt a bulge right on your core, you mentally widened your eyes since you weren't expecting them to be this hard.

"For my line of work it is, from what the public knows I own a movie production studio, and that's all they need to know." They smirked, their thumb in the crease of your thighs and their fingers on your ass pushing your hips to slightly create friction

"So you do porn?" You said, adding everything together while still subconsciously bucking your hips a little faster, hoping they wouldn't notice but it looked a little too late.

"And I'm looking at my new project as we speak.." They smirked, finishing the glass with their eyes slowly fucking your body while pushing their hips up, making you gasp.

"I'm not doing anything I don't get paid for.." You spat, looking directly into their eyes, both of your faces just inches away.

"You don't have to worry about that, I'd personally pay you...you wouldn't be fucking anyone doll, you'd be fucking me...I want you to be my personal pornstar princess.." They spoke, their voice warm and hushed, sending a line of chills down your spine.

Biting your lip you moved your hips faster, with both of Hange's hands attached guiding you perfectly.

"Show me how nasty you really are.." They continued, placing kisses up and down the middle of your chest still keeping the eye contact while they slipped a nipple in their mouth.

You finally dropped the shy girl act and took Hange's hand off your hip, moving it exactly where you needed it to be, they slide the thin piece of fabric to the side, your sticky fluids dripping out of you as their finger eases it way inside, practically sucking it in.

"You talk too much.." You mumble, letting a few moans escape from your throat as they add another, curling their fingers and hitting your g-spot like they knew your body. A large groan followed next when their speed increased.

"You usually get this wet with all your clients?" They smugly ask, ignoring the smart remark, with their fingers speeding up purposely so you couldn't form a single sentence.

"I-I dont-"

"Shhh, shh princess, let your body talk for me." They teased, listening to the nasty squelching sounds coming from your soaked pussy, you could feel your stomach tighten up, and the palm of their hand rubbing your clit, you heard yourself whimper before covering your mouth with your hands.

You felt a bit embarrassed that you were so close from you both doing barely anything, but you couldn't care it felt too fucking good to hold back. Just as soon as you mentally let go, they pull out of you causing you to whine from the empty feeling.

"Why'd you stop? You knew I was cl-"

They shut you up by shoving their soaked fingers into your mouth, watching you suckle on them with strings of saliva forming on your lips.

"I knew you were close, only a nasty bitch like you can clamp down on my fingers like that..on your stomach for me." They spoke, palming themselves watching you arch your back on the elongated couch.

Being the nasty slut you were, you shook your ass in anticipation spreading your pussy lips and rubbing your swollen clit thinking you were finna get stuffed full of dick. Your whole body shivered as you felt the warm wetness from their tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your quivering cunt.

Their tongue easily sliding in between your folds, sucking you like they wanted to drain you entirely. Your eyes crossed when they spat on your pussy, watching it drip down, rubbing it in with their hand, sticking their thumb in and out of you just to tease.

"You like eating me like a bitch in heat?"

"Just as much as you like screaming like one.." They replied, wrapping their lips back in the same spot, flicking and swirling their tongue as their hands joined in, pumping in and out.

"Oh god, fuckkk...please! I'm cumming! I'm- HANGE!" You screamed out, your body shakes with your cunt squirting fluids all over the couch, not realizing you slipped up and said their name.

"Such a pretty mess you made..and I thought you didn't know too much about me.." Hange mocked, cleaning you up and slapping your thighs to keep you from squirming, you felt your stomach in multiple knots from the sensitivity. "Didn't take you to be a squirter.."

"Me either.." You mumbled, trying to get your head together. But Hange gave you no time for that. Gripping you by the back of your neck they pulled you up, turning your head around for a sloppy kiss.

You normally don't kiss clients but your head was so fogged up and full of them that those rules went out of the question, you'd just have to deal with the lecture later.

You felt them suck your face off in the most disrespectful way possible, sucking on your tongue and biting your lower lip. You couldn't help but moan in their mouth kindly returning the nasty favor.

By now you're completely naked, with them wearing nothing but the black wifebeater and grey dress pants that surely ended up on the floor next. You felt them pick you up, the coldness of a wall on your back and the tip of something poking at your throbbing cunt.

Your legs were in no shape to be fucked against the wall but Hange didn't want to hear a single complaint.

"I'll hold you together, doll, just fall apart in my hands for me..make those pretty sounds like you did before.." They your body whispered in your ear, holding your legs up with their tatted forearms like you were pure putty in their hands, thrusting into you.

You could feel yourself stretching out by the inch as they pound into you, their hair all disheveled with slight moans escaping their throat, feeling you clamp them like a vice.

"Why are you so fucking wet? This all for me doll, hm?" They growled, marking your neck with bruises and bites.

"It's all for you, it's all for you- fuck! Don't stop, please I swear i'm gonna cum all over this dick.."

"That's right princess, talk to me while i'm inside of you..tell me what you want.." Hange egged on.

"I want you to punish me, I wanna squirt all over you and make a fucking mess, Hange fuck me..pleasee." You pleaded, wrapping your legs around them with all the strength you could find, with tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, you were so fucking close.

Hange noticed the tears falling from your face and watched the mascara stain your face, kissing your stained cheeks with a toothy smirk.

"You look so fucking pretty like this..on your knees..hurry up." They panted, pulling out of you while you quickly got on the floor, they followed behind you, smacking your ass while you shook your hips to rub against them.

Pushing back inside, you both groan out with pleasure as Hange continues with the same pace as before, their hands pulling you in deeper.

"You feel so fucking good, s'good..i'm gonna cum all over that pretty face.." They grumbled, rutting into you.

"Please cum in me Hange, PLEASE! Fuck me just like that..just like that baby!" You groaned out, spreading yourself open so they could really hit your shit, you could feel them in the pit of your stomach, repeatedly hitting that spongy spot inside of you, that familiar feeling crept back in and crashed hard, with you letting out a loud scream.

"I'm not done just yet princess, give me one more pretty girl, please?" Hange cooed to you as they fucked you through the shivering orgasm, you swore you started to see stars.

"I know you can doll, just breathe for me." Hange went on, spitting on their hand and rubbing small circles on your clit. You whine from the sensitivity as your legs shake violently, the tears were flowing at this point but you couldn't help why you and your body wanted more.

"I want more of it...fuck..please cum inside of me Hange.." You begged once more, turning your hips up to push back without their help.

"Ouu shit, just like that princess..fuck me back then.." Hange swore, biting their lower lip as they lifted up their shirt, leaning back a bit to watch your ass move up and down on them and listening to your pussy squelch.

Hard smacks to your ass echoed in the room, as their voice escalated to a whimper as you picked up your pace, they finally let you take over and you wanted to pull all your tricks out to prove a point.

"Like that baby? This pussy sucking you dry? I want all of it Hange, give it to me please baby?" You teased, throwing your ass against them, feeling your own orgasm coming in close.

"I'm gonna cum all in this pussy baby, look at me- fuck just like that, you look so fucking good.." They babbled, watching you as you turned your neck to look back at them.

Their face was covered with the color red with a few strands stuck to their forehead, you could tell they were about to spray your insides white, this made you put your all into it, they gripped your hips hard forming crescent shaped indents deep into your skin, sporadically pounding inside of you, whimpering and moaning as you were bound to the ground, stuck in a euphoric state of pleasure.

"I'm cumming, I'M GONNA-" Was all you head before you felt ropes of warm cum fill you up in the nastiest way possible, you could feel them twitch inside of you as they still weren't finished, fucking the cum deeper into you.

Soon enough you creamed all over Hange only adding to the nasty mess they created not too long ago. They finally pulled out and watched as their cum spilled out of you, like an artist looking at a finished project.

You were mentally out of it, your legs gave out and you were on the floor with cum spilling out of your pussy and drool coming from your lips, bitch you were dickmatized.

"So..." They panted. "How do we tell Eren?"

Yallllllll, this is the nastiest thing my fingers have typed- this has been in my drafts for so long...but oh my fuck..i'm fucking pregnant....

[babydaddyleorio]

Hello! Can I please ask you to write about Kageyama Shigewa and Fem! Reader. Only the reader is a lazy asshole who drinks coffee 24/7, sleeps 24/7 too. The reader doesn't give a damn, sloppy, always on chill, relaxed and a bit of a clown (at the same time he doesn't know how to joke, but he tries). Thanks you❤️

— in the morning

Shigeo looked at his calendar, a sigh bubbling at the pit of his throat as he slowly rubbed at his eyes.

Today was Monday.

The start of the week, which is presumably the most productive time one could be, well, at least he thought so. You on the other hand did not share the same values as Shigeo, making his life a hell of a lot more difficult than he’d like to admit.

“Five more minutes.” You mumbled against your pillow while cramping yourself into a ball on the leather couch. Shigeo furrowed his eyebrows as he snatched the warm cover off of you, revealing the remnants of the snacks you ate last night surrounding your body.

“You said that fifteen minutes ago,” Shigeo stated softly as he grabbed your ankle and started to tug gently. 

Shigeo is typically very patient with you, but if you chose to be too stubborn, he will use his telekinesis to give you a push. Without warning, you felt your body slowly being lifted into the air and your eyes shot open as gravity ceased to exist.

"Put me down!" You squealed as you thrashed yourself around in a panic.

Shigeo simply shook his head.

"No."

You smacked your lips and tried to swim back down, but you simply stayed in the same place. Shigeo watched your failing attempts, and he could help but giggle to himself.

— on the train

You and Shigeo rode the train together, and you would lean your head against his shoulder with fluttering eyes as you tried to stay upright. Shigeo didn’t mind being your support, so he would wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to avoid you falling over. 

“I need a coffee.” You yawned barely coherent, and Shigeo turned and pulled out a container from his bag’s side pocket.

“Already packed it.” He answered which caused your gaze to light up.

You came outside in just your sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and slippers. You didn't feel like putting much effort into your appearance today, so you picked whatever looked the comfiest. You got weird looks from others around you, but Shigeo wasn't phased in the slightest. He was used to it and thought you were beautiful either way.

"What would I do without you?" You hummed as you accepted the warm thermos from his hands. Shigeo shifted his eyes towards you briefly before looking ahead again.

Then, he felt himself grin.

— the jokester

Shigeo tried his hardest to keep up with your jokes, but he just couldn't match your funny. He thought you were absolutely hilarious for what it was worth, and sometimes, he'd catch himself saying the things you would.

"Shigeo?" You called as your favorite show went to commercial.

"Hm?" He turned to look at you as he sat at the foot of the bed.

"I can't reach the remote." You sighed as you weakly stretched your arm towards it. Shigeo would normally get it for you, but today he kicked the remote a few inches farther from your reach.

Then, he shook his head. "That's tough."

Your mouth fell open before you started to break out into laughter. Shigeo smiled at you before scratching the back of his neck. "Did I say it right?"

You continued to laugh while covering your face with your arm. "Yeah, you did just right."

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Jordan Nobbs x Reader

Meal for One

In a world of your own staring at the laundry detergent in the cleaning aisle of Tesco you were trying to work out which product was the best value for money. Your mundane weekend activity had numbed your brain not realising how long you’d been staring at the prices and day dreaming that you were somewhere sunny. That was until someone brushed past you to get what they wanted and dragged you back down to earth. Exhausted from the decision, you grabbed whatever looked good and shoved it into your trolley then moved robotically to the freezer aisle - meals for one, they sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself!

*Attention shoppers, we are closing in 10 minutes, please make your way to the checkouts* - came over the tannoy and filled your bones with dread. You barely had five items off your long shopping list in the trolley and now you had to leave. Rushing around to grab the essentials then getting into the queue, eyes barely open and longing to be back on your sofa. Loading your shopping onto the conveyor belt you hurried to place the next person slide out for whoever was behind you. “Thanks, nice shirt by the way” the female voice said. “Thaaanks” your word dragged out as you glanced down to see what you’d thrown on to leave the house today, seeing it was your Aston Villa shirt you decided to strike up a conversation, “you a villains fan too?” you said turning around so your back wasn’t facing them. “Kinda” the woman said as she delved into the bottom of her trolley, jealous of how much shopping she had compared to your ready meals and fabric softener. As she turned back to place her items behind yours “f-fuck me!” you said slightly too loud as people around you glanced in your direction. A one sided smile lit up her face for a second as the realisation hit. “You’re Jordan! As in the-name-on-my-back Nobbs?” you stumbled over your words while turning around to point at your back. It all makes sense now why she said your shirt was nice. “You’ve got good taste!” she laughed, “maybe not in meals though, they look sad” she screwed up her face looking at your frozen box meals. “Oh, yeah I lead a very busy life” trying to play it cool but the facade betrayed you. “Is that right?” she smirked. “No that’s a lie, I can’t cook to save my life” your head bowed, feeling incredibly small as she loaded the belt with actual ingredients rather than something you can shove in a freezer. “Me neither, but I’m trying to learn” the blonde seemed excited about her current venture. “Well yours looks like it’s going to better than mine” you chuckled softly with embarrassment. “I can cook enough for two if you fancy? I need a trial taster”. Your eyebrows furrowed trying to work out if she was serious and said you better go home to put your groceries away, you couldn’t have your meals defrosting.

“Eh-hem” the interruption came from the cashier who just wanted to go home and didn’t have time to listen to you chat any longer. Hurriedly packing your bags so you could pay and move along, as you tapped your phone on the card reader Jordan passed you her number “come as you are” she smiled “see you in about an hour?” Looking at the piece of paper in disbelief you nodded and smiled cautiously as you made your way to the car.

“Well this is awkward!” the same voice called from behind as you loaded your car boot. “Nothing like saying bye to someone then walking in the same direction!” Of course she’d parked next to you, seeing your beat up, run down car that was in desperate need of a wash next to her pristine BMW. Knowing you were going to have to think of something quickly to prolong getting in your car, it was a state inside and out and definitely not going to help your case of convincing her you’re not always a slob, things had just gotten away from your lately.

At home you were still unsure about what actually happened in Tesco, was she being serious, is this really Jordan Nobb’s number? Typing it into your phone, watching your thumbs refuse to move and when they did it was to delete what you’d already written. This went on for twenty minutes - writing, deleting, rewriting, deleting until you settled for a simple “hi 😊” before immediately panicking and sending another without totally thinking it through “it’s sad meal girl btw 😂”. Waiting impatiently for a reply you’d convinced yourself she’d given you a fake number. Fetching one of your meals out the freezer and setting the microwave timer then reaching for the cheap bottle of wine in your fridge.

Your phone pinged before the microwave did, rushing to pick it up to see she’d sent a pin of her address. Switching the microwave off and grabbing the bottle of wine you quickly changed your top, pulled on a coat and headed out the front door, opting to walk rather than take your rubbish filled car. Surprised she lived only a short walk away you wondered how you’d never spotted her in your town before.

“Hey, can I take your coat?” Jordan said as soon as she opened the door, nodding and removing it from your shoulders. “Something smells amazing, do you need any help?” you asked, following her towards the kitchen. Glancing at the menu on her phone she came up with something for you to do. “Err, you could chop the veggies for me, how are you with onions?” You chuckled to yourself, excited to finally try the hack you saw on tiktok once and asked for a saucepan lid, tucking it into your hood. Jordan couldn’t contain her laughter when she spotted what you were doing but congratulated you on the initiative.

“I bought wine, it’s pretty cheap though” you said behind your glass mask meaning Jordan didn’t hear and you had to repeat yourself. “We can just mix it with lemonade it’ll make it taste better” she said getting two glasses out of the cupboard.

Helping you put your coat on she opened the door to see your car wasn’t on the driveway. It was 2am by the time you two had stopped talking; she refused to let you walk home alone and demanded she drive you. Pulling up outside your flat you said your goodbyes, “we should do this again some time, you have my number now” Jordan smiled. You said thank you for the lovely yet surprising evening and made your way to your door. Waiting for you to be safely inside your house, you waved goodbye as you watched her drive away. This had been one of the best days you’d had in a very long time, you were in desperate need of something magical to happen and who knew it would come in the form of Jordan.

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 2

This time around, Dustin let Will handle the camera. Not only because he was super busy on this day, but Will had also proven himself a talented director. He was currently capturing grade A gold of Steve deciding which hair products to pack away for the day.

He had packed and unpacked the bag at least three times while Dustin was making final arrangements in the kitchen by phone.

“Steve, I swear to god!”

“Hey! No yelling. You promised this would be the one day, no yelling”, Steve snapped.

Dustin huffed, then returned to his phone call.

“I think you’ll look fine”, Will said from behind the camera. “Eddie’s gonna love how you look no matter what.”

Steve smiled fondly at him for that. “Remind me why I didn’t make you my best man again?”

“Because Dustin would have skinned you alive?”

“Yeah, that’s why”, Steve nodded. He figured out his perfect products and closed up the bag. “Alright. I’m ready to get married.”

More like he was ready to begin preparing for the process to start getting ready to be married. But he was ready all the same.

Dustin was his best man. For the record, he had asked Robin first. But then she spent about an hour rambling about how horrible of a job she’d do with the planning and her anxiety and ruining his perfect day while being incredibly flattered and Steve decided to take her out of her misery.

“Just be where I need you”, he had said.

“Can do.”

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

While Steve went into a small room to get started on his hair, Dustin talked to Will, camera off.

“Okay, we’ve got a small window here. You ready for this?”

“You really think they’ll like it?”, Will asked.

“Those saps? They’ll be showin’ it to their grandkids”, Dustin said. 

Will beamed. They could do this. And hopefully Steve and Eddie would appreciate the thought behind it.

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

Eddie had proposed on January 2nd, 1990. He definitely planned to do a whole New Year’s thing, but had both chickened out and gotten distracted (another story for another time). But when he finally nutted up, he had told Steve he didn’t want another decade to go by without Steve being his husband.

“I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you in a mosh pit, babe.”

“Eddie, that was three years ago.”

“Three years of torture.” Of not really knowing what the future held for them. Of knowing that even if they belonged to each other in every other way, it wouldn’t be recognized in many people’s eyes. But Eddie finally decided that he officially didn’t care if it wasn’t official. It was real to him and the man he loved. That made it more real than anything else.

And now he was staring at him, with El standing as officiator. She had been the flower girl at her first wedding (Joyce and Jim’s) and had been very fascinated with the person who got to actually marry the couple. She cleared her throat and began to speak, welcoming all the guests in a voice that was strong and full of adoration for the idea of two people professing their love in front of an audience of family and friends.

Then it came time for vows and Eddie typically didn’t shy away from his feelings but he had planned wear even more of his heart on his sleeve. Not only had Steve’s parents responded to the invite, they had attended. And he was gonna let them know just how special their son was.

When it was Steve’s turn, he was definitely already tearing up, but he got out everything he wanted to say. He wondered briefly if Robin saw a similar future for herself or Will.

But then El was practically bouncing on her heels to say her favorite part of all this and anything pertaining to non-Eddie thoughts left his mind.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

It really was the sweetest kiss Steve had ever received.

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

The musical selection at the reception was probably the oddest playlist possible but both grooms had wanted everyone to have a chance on the dance floor. Once it into full swing, everyone was getting a little of the grooms’ attention. And if it wasn’t the guests, they had their eyes on each other. So they could be forgiven for not noticing when a few of their friends disappeared.

Will, Jonathan, Nancy, and Dustin had left the hall to prepare their gift for the couple. When it was ready, Dustin walked out onto the stage to get everyone’s attention.

“A few of us have made something special for the men of the hour. Steve, Eddie, with all due respect: I told you so. And without further ado, solid proof that I am always right.”

A video began playing on a projector. One with Eddie and Steve as the focus, with Dustin obviously narrating from behind the camera. It was a little shakey, but something in Steve’s heart cracked at hearing Dustin’s still cracky voice from years ago, putting his own little spin on his and Eddie’s courtship.

“That little shit”, Steve whispered when the scene of him in the bathroom came up. But it had none of the bite it normally did when he was tearing up. Eddie brought his hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. He was feeling a little vindication seeing their romance from the outside. In some of the scenes, Steve looked just as nervous as he had been. He had just been too blinded by love at the time to notice.

But then it changed from clips of their budding romance to the current events of today. 

As Dustin had been busy with best man business, Will was handling the camera and Lucas was voicing over for Steve’s actions from outside a window.

“On this, the most important day of his life, Steve is attended by the most trusted members of his pack.” 

Steve sat in front of a mirror while Robin did his hair, slapping his hands away every time he tried to interfere. Dustin was using a lint roller on his suit. Steve’s face was a storm of emotion as he tried to fidget with his hair. But Robin was on top of her game today.

“In less than an hour, Steve will officially enter a pair bond for life. Now let’s check in with Eddie.”

The shot changed to Eddie’s preparation. And while Steve anxious feelings were palpable, yet under control, Eddie was letting them all gush forth in the adrenaline thick atmosphere among his groomsmen.

“I’m gonna marry him!”, he shouted.

“You’re gonna marry him!”, Gareth and Jeff shouted back.

Eddie was pacing wildly around the room, sometimes pausing to hop on his feet. “I’m getting married today. I’m marrying Steve. Let’s go! Let’s do this! Nancy! Hit me!”

Nancy obliged him with a slap on the face and that got him even more hype, lifting the energy of the room even more. The handler of the camera turned it towards themselves, revealing Mike was the one recording. And he was definitely wondering how he got here. Then he turned it back towards Eddie.

“Okay, I just gotta ask one last time...”

Nancy gave him a warning look. “Mike...”

“Why Steve?”

Eddie’s smile got even bigger if that was possibly. “He’s belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Mini Wheels. It’s like I’m in little league and I hit a home run against a pro. You shouldn’t be asking me ‘why Steve?’ You should be asking me how.”

Steve turned to Eddie and was trying to convey just how with only his eyes. As they had just described in vivid detail in words. Eddie got the message and kissed him again.

The video went on to show the actual wedding, Will and Jonathan handling two cameras and then a third, floating at an impossible angle. Leave it to El to work double time for such an occasion. 

Seeing it all again from the outside...It had really happened, hadn’t it?

“We’re married, baby”, Eddie beamed.

When the video ended, they were kissing each other again. And again and again and for once, Dustin’s self righteous attitude didn’t rain on their parade. If anything they were actually proud of him for seeing what they hadn’t. You’ll never get them to admit it though.

END

Tag Team

@henderdads

@lightwoodbanethings

@mightbeasleep

@beautifully-useless

[amaliabalash]

Legally Blonde at the Oregon Cabaret Theatre

Just got back from seeing the Cabaret's Legally Blonde and so naturally I have to make a text post with every thought and feeling. Bullet pointed stream of consciousness ahead! And I'll be seeing this uh like six more times so I will likely add on to mention other little things I notice and like over time. 😂

This Bruiser was a miniature poodle and very cute.

When Margot is talking to Bruiser, she just held his head and looked into his eyes like she was doing a mind meld and I loved that.

Also, like seven years ago or something, the actress playing Margot played Elle in a youth production of LB that I saw, and it was fun to see her back in the show. She understudies Elle and I hope she goes on one of the times I've there, it'd be a fun full circle thing.

During Blood in the Water, when the students start echoing the phrase, Emmett started and like tried to cue them to do the same? I don't know how to word it lol but it worked for me.

When Elle asks, "who assigns reading on the first day of class?" Emmett across the room starts like reaching out towards her and mouthing "no no no" before grimacing.

Enid throws a beer on Vivienne at the party, which I haven't seen before and was fun as Vivienne runs off stage going "I'm all sticky!"

OG IRELAND LYRICS FTW

During the Christmas part of Chip, Emmett comes in with a reindeer horn headband and I just thought that was very cute.

This Emmett did a lot of like, voices when saying certain lines and it worked for me? I know the actor from many local productions and always enjoy him but he's usually playing character roles, and I enjoyed seeing little bits of that goofiness brought into Emmett.

Major height difference between Elle and Emmett. Most of the time I'm like "yeah height differences are fine" but it made it so if they hugged she's like buried in this chest and yes good I approve.

At the end of Chip right after Elle has her classroom success, Elle and Emmett like lock eyes and walk towards each other and it just felt like a magnetic pull thing until Callahan walks between them, I dug it.

And then when Paulette goes to get Rufus (she goes offstage, because they did not have a dog to play Rufus), again, Elle and Emmett just fucking gaze at each other for a moment before she goes into "is this law?" and I am so here for it.

Holy SHIT Whipped Into Shape. Always impressive to see people hold their own with singing while jump roping, but the first freeze? Forgive the random cheerleader picture for illustration, but the actress playing Brooke held this pose (without the other arm out) for the entire pause on "meet our brand new client Brooke..." through until the hit play again. I've never seen people burst into applause mid-Whipped, but like, you could feel the shock and awe just ripple through the room the longer she held it.

Take It Like a Man: okay first of all they actually put him in a good suit thank the lord, so often it's like "and he looks the same, just in black" but this was a well fitted suit so, A+ costuming, you actually did the job. And Emmett did a clear sort of lean in before Elle hugs him, which isn't anything new, but always great in my book. And when she hugs him, she just buries her face in his chest, I love it.

When Callahan makes the move on Elle, and audience member loudly hissed. 😂

Sadly. There was no Door. However, they DID make it clear that "what about love?" was an aside and not directly to Elle. There was a line change, I don't remember exactly what, so it's not "if you can hear" but something else. But when he's singing about wanting her to stay TO her, she's carrying a bag she's packed and they both reach for the handles and just kind of clasp hands for a moment. ALSO she packs the 2-in-1 shampoo after like hesitating for a moment over it, and that got me right in the heart. Well done.

During the reprise when Elle walks into the supply closet, Vivienne turned to Enid and said "she still hates me, doesn't she?" or something like that and god any little extra bit of Vivienne insight we get I looooove.

After Elle proposes and puts the ring on Emmett's finger, she jumps into his arms and just WRAPS her legs around him, full on star fish cling, I love it. No real end kiss though, which seemed weird? Like they were about to and then went into more singing. I'm not as much bothered by it as confused by the choice but oh well.

Emmett comes out in a hot pink suit for bows.

Okay that's all I got for now. I fucking love Legally Blonde.

[catdia]

The Morales Twins and their hair!

Earth 1610! Is referred as Miles

Earth 42! Is referred as Milan

I’ve heard a lot of people, and even seen some fan art, saying that Rio is the one that does Milan’s hair?!

As a Puerto Rican, it’s very rare to see a mom that knows how to do curly hair. Especially such tight curls like the twins.

Rio has lose curls that are “easier” to maintain, but that woman doesn’t even know what to do with her hair! Always kept in a lose pony tail.

Sadly in PR, people always look down upon curly hair calling it “pelo malo” (bad hair). Many people just straighten it or get to adulthood without a clue what to do.

I don’t even want to talk about the trauma that Jeff and Aaron have from growing up in a black household with curls! I know they shaved it off when they were teens.

When the twins were little on wash day they were crying bloody murder in the bathtub as Rio harshly brushed their hair.

Rio also felt guilt as hell for not knowing what to do.

Jeff was just looking shocked at the scene as his babies were suffering. So he went to the hair shop down the street and asked all the curly heads at the shop what to use and do.

He came back with a bunch of products, from mouses to oils, shampoos to leave in conditioners. And a receipt with instructions on the back from a nice old lady.

Miles was less tender headed than Milan. They left little Miles on the sofa, the freshest curls on his head and a bag of chips in his hands.

While Milan on the other hand was still in the bathtub with tangled hair. Throwing the toys at Rio and Jeff trying to brush his hair.

“¡Este niño no quiere Jeff! Ya no puedo.”

(This kid doesn’t want to get his hair brushed! I can’t anymore.)

Rio exclaimed leaving flustered and tired. Taking a seat next to Miles. Jeff looked at Milan’s puffy face. His little boy making grabby hands at him. He had no other option than to call his brother.

“Hey Aaron, I need your help with Milan…”

Jeff said carrying Milan wrapped in a towel.

Uncle Aaron came a few minutes after. With a convenient store bag in hand. The twins were ecstatic as they saw their uncle.

Aaron chuckled as the twins waddled to him. He grabbed them both and gave them smooches. He looked at Milan’s face.

“What have you done to this poor kid, Jefferson! He looks like a tomato!”

The twins pulled on their uncle’s nose.

“They had us all afternoon in the tub. ¡Me tenían loca!”

(They were driving me crazy!)

Jeff looked at Rio.

“Yeah, Miles let us take care of the tangles but Milan won’t give. I called you to see what we can do. You where our last hope.”

Aaron chuckled, putting Miles down. Then checking Milan’s messy hair. The baby even smacked his hand away.

“I don’t know where this one got the balls from. Maybe this is Rio’s half of the genes kicking in.”

Aaron said making Rio look even more pissed. That woman needed a good drink. Jeff looked at Aaron with a “don’t” stare.

“Just get me a brush and the products you have. Oh, and some thin hair ties.”

Uncle Aaron pulled up one of the twins baby chairs and placed Milan on it. He sat down on the floor and took out a pack of tiny Oreos and handed it to the baby.

Miles stood next to Aaron with a bottle watching with curiosity. Rio and Jeff gave him everything. Looking in aw as their firecracker was finally sitting still. Eating the Oreos with no care in the world.

Uncle Aaron parted his hair. And started braiding and explaining the process to Rio and Jeff. In an hour the baby’s hair was done, no crying or fussing. Miles even touched his brother hair feeling the textures on his fingers.

Jeff was the one that took the job of doing Milan’s hair. Even learning new patterns and designs. Years passed and Milan still has the same hairstyle. His still makes his dad do his hair.

“Your a grown man now. Do it yourself.”

“I don’t want to!”

“Then tell your mom to do it.”

“¡Por favor no!”

Milan placed all the products on the dining table. Sitting down on a chair waiting for his dad to stop bitching and do it. And Jeff eventually did it. Before going to a cupboard and getting out a pack of Oreos. Placing them next to his son. Milan took one and ate the rest slowly.

Jeff was gentle and Milan would always fall asleep. Miles came into the kitchen seeing his dad and brother.

Miles stood next to his dad and taking the last Oreo.

“Can you do my hair next?”

Milan reached for another Oreo. Gone! Miles ate the last bite. Milan turned his head in anger. Jeff laughing at Miles scared face.

“No! This is my hairstyle! And Oreos! Get your own!”

Milan chased Miles away with a picking tool. They went out of view and a crash sounded through the apartment.

“Boys!”

#miles morales #earth!42miles #earth!1610miles #spiderverse #atsv #itsv #uncleaaron

[gainingfiction]

Lifetime Supply: Epilogue

(read chapter 10 by gainerstories here)

Two Years Later

Ryan was just finishing the last of a defrosted cheesecake when Luke walked in the door. He looked very sharp—and very buff—in his office attire. Sometimes, Ryan wondered if it was all a sugar-induced dream, imagining he would wake up from a food coma and find himself still living with Ahmed. But that never happened. Ryan got to spend every day with his beautiful boyfriend, who loved finding new ways to keep him happy and fed. Very happy, and very, very well fed.

“Hey, big boy,” Luke said, bumping the door closed with his hip. His arms were full of bulging grocery bags, which he set down on the counter. “Big day?”

“Hardly,” Ryan answered. He’d done a little bit of freelance coding, and spent the rest of the day trying to resist the urge to finish one of his weekly Adesco boxes. Normally he wouldn’t even try, but with Ahmed and Cory’s wedding coming up, he was conscious of the need to fit into his (still very new) suit. “Same old, same old. How about you?”

“Well, I had a very interesting meeting at work today,” Luke said, sitting down at the table beside Ryan.

“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked. “What about?”

“About you, actually,” Luke said, with a smirk. “It was quite a meeting. We had people from marketing, legal, someone from accounting… apparently feeding you is costing the company a fortune.”

Ryan smirked. It was incredibly erotic to imagine a room of executives filled with exasperation about how much he ate. He wasn’t just fat—he was fat enough to make a multinational food corporation take notice. Luke reached out and started massaging his gut, setting in motion a wave of jiggling flesh.

“And… well, as an Adesco employee, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but as your horny boyfriend, I can’t resist. There’s really nothing they can do about it. They have to give you as much as you want,” Luke said with a grin. “Apparently the contest’s terms and conditions were a complete shitshow. Basically all it said was ‘lifetime supply’. Nothing about a weekly maximum, or an end date. Kelly from legal was beside herself. She said if Adesco ever tried to turn off the tap, you could sue the hell out of us.”

Ryan laughed, pleasure radiating through him as Luke’s fingers sank into his blubber. “I didn’t realize I was such a concern.”

“Oh, a big one. Let’s just say they’re never going to do another lifetime supply snack giveaway again. I guess appetites have grown since 1977. I did point out that you’ve been pretty helpful with product development,” Ryan said.

“What did they say to that?”

“They didn’t disagree. They wanted me to call you more often to get feedback on new products. And to keep you happy,” Luke said, his grin widening.

“Wow, I’m starting to think our whole relationship is some elaborate customer service scheme,” Ryan joked. He unwrapped a snack cake from the box on the floor and dug in.

“Well, am I keeping you… satisfied?” Luke said, still working his magic on Ryan’s expansive gut. He waggled his eyebrows, making Ryan chuckle.

“Very,” Ryan said. “And it’s nice to have a mole on the inside… my own corporate spy.”

Luke leaned over and kissed Ryan, who inhaled with pleasure as Luke’s fingers roamed his paunchy middle. He was so monstrously fat now—fatter than he ever could have imagined. He knew he wasn’t exactly helping things with the endless stream of fat-filled snacks he inhaled on a regular basis, but he didn’t expect to continue packing on the pounds at lightning speed. Not that Luke seemed to mind.

They made out a little more, and Ryan was getting ready to move things into the bedroom when his stomach let out a loud, angry gurgle. “Indigestion?” Luke asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“Starvation,” Ryan said, dramatically. “I’ve been depriving myself all day to fit into my suit,” Ryan explained, as he licked the remaining chocolate off his fingers. A lot of it had found its way onto poor Luke’s dress shirt, but that was a problem for the dry cleaners—hardly a concern in Ryan’s horny state.

“Well, we can’t have you wasting away,” Luke said. He sounded serious. He slipped off the chair, leaving Ryan’s shirt bunched up above his deep, gaping navel. Naked fat cascaded out in front of him, pooling across his lap. “How about I make you some dinner?”

Ryan couldn’t say yes fast enough.

The next day, Luke and Ryan dressed for the wedding. Luke looked godlike in his form-fitting three-piece suit, his pants flattering his muscular thighs and ample bubble butt, with his broad shoulders and wide lats framed by his jacket. If they didn’t have somewhere to be, Ryan would have ripped the damn thing off of him then and there. He still didn’t understand how Luke managed to stay so jacked in a house packed to bursting with processed snacks.

Ryan’s own suit was another matter. It flattered his build in a… different way. He’d only gotten it back from the shop a week before, but already the fabric spread tight across his vast backside, framing each buttock, and the jacket was a little snug around the waist. It was a testament to the stunning pace of his continued expansion. He looked at himself in the mirror. The man looking back was fucking big. Not just big, but massive. Monumental. He slipped a hand under his gut, feeling the soft cotton of his button-down cradling his overwhelming belly. He gave it a little shake, appreciating the sheer scale of himself, the manliness he felt when he looked at the behemoth in the mirror. That was all him.

Luke appeared beside him, and draped an arm across Ryan’s wide, sloping shoulders. He was smiling. “You clean up nice,” he said. “Although I don’t know how much more use you’re gonna get out of that suit.”

Ryan smirked. “Well, it’ll be fun while it lasts. I’m just glad I can still get it on for the big day.”

When it came to clothing men of size, Gerry was a miracle worker—and so was Antoine, it turned out. Ryan was shocked to see his former fuckbuddy waddling around the big and tall store, looking about a hundred pounds heavier than the last time Ryan had seen him. All of his feeding had finally caught up with him, it seemed. If it wasn’t for the name tag, Ryan might not have recognized him. They were quick to put any awkwardness or unpleasantness behind them: Antoine’s added girth had added to his perspective, and he still had a keen eye for style. The result was a very sharp suit that still managed to show off every pound of Ryan’s expansive body. He couldn’t have been happier with it.

When they were all suited up, Ryan lumbered his way to the car and loaded his bulk into the passenger seat. Bucket seats were getting more than a little uncomfortable, but Luke’s SUV was still decently spacious, and the seatbelt extender was a help. He cranked the AC—a summer wedding sounded nice in theory, but considering how much he was already sweating, Ryan had a feeling he’d prefer to tie the knot during one of the cooler months of the year.

The venue was lovely, and decorated to perfection. Still conscious of his furniture mishap a few years back—and the strain he was putting on his couch—Ryan made a point of pushing two chairs together before sitting down. That earned him a few looks from the more trim guests, but Ryan didn’t care; those looks would be nothing compared to the looks he’d get if his fat ass totalled another chair and sent him sprawling in the middle of the ceremony.

Ryan was glad Luke had pulled over for some fast food on the way over; he wasn’t used to going more than an hour without eating, and as erotic as the prospect sounded in theory, he knew he’d be mortified if his stomach started growling before the ‘I do’s.

When the ceremony started, Ryan got the chance to check out his best friend. Ahmed was downright huge. He’d packed on a ton of muscle, but he’d clearly put on even more fat, judging by the way he filled out his suit. It seemed that his bulk was still ongoing, and Ryan couldn’t see that ending any time soon. He was an impressive specimen, though, with vast, meaty legs and a pair of beefy boy-breasts that poked at the front of his dress shirt, perky from the muscle that lurked beneath layers of juicy fat. He wasn’t close to Ryan’s size, but there was no denying that he had a seriously fat belly on him.

And in a surprising twist, Cory had stacked on a noticeable amount of weight himself. He was still a fraction of the size of Ryan, and far smaller than his soon-to-be-husband, but the former twink was looking undeniably chubby. He had a plump little belly and a round, prominent booty that jiggled slightly with every step. Ahmed must love that, Ryan thought, smiling to himself.

“What are you grinning about?” Luke whispered to him.

“Nothing,” Ryan said. “They just look happy together. I didn’t think Ahmed was the marrying kind, but they both look… domesticated.” It was true—Ahmed and Cory were looking at each other with pure adoration.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Luke said. He gave a wry smile. “I can only imagine how they’re gonna look after a few years of marriage.”

“Everyone loves a chubby hubby,” Ryan said. He thought of Jason, who—if his Instagram could be trusted—still seemed trapped in an endless revolving door of yoga boys and CrossFitters. “Well, anyone with taste.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Luke said. He took Ryan’s hand. He rested his other hand on his slender torso. “Being around all those Adesco snacks… well, it’s getting hard to keep up my diet.”

Ryan interlocked his chubby fingers with Luke’s slim ones. “Well, I’m sure Antoine and Gerry would be happy to have a new customer.”

“And you? Would you… like a chubby hubby of your own?” Luke’s eyes were wide, hopeful.

Ryan beamed at him. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I would.”

[punsmaster69]

22/DEC/20XX

"NOOO!!"

"Who did this."

(they definitely said it as a period.)

frisk's cookie was ruined in red sprinkles. the sprinkle container's lid sat in the middle.

"Really? You know EXACTLY who would do that."

flowey made a very non-discreet leaf-point towards me.

"whaat?"

"i would never."

"can't believe you would even accuse me of such a thing."

"You already ruined one of mine with that, of course it's you!"

going to put sprinkles over my own splotchily iced cookie, it suddenly twinned theirs, but in cyan.

"whoops."

i plucked the lid of the sprinkle container out of the icing and set it aside.

it stuck to the tablecloth.

"What's the matter? Got a taste of your own medicine, trash bag? How's it taste?"

"dunno. haven't tried the cookie yet."

his smug face dropped.

"That's not what I meant, idiot."

"i know."

"Do you?"

"nope."

"Why did you say you did?"

"because i do."

"You JUST said you don't."

"i don't."

"Do you do or do you don't?!"

"what? that's too much doing."

"let's start over."

"Wh- NO! We're not doing that!"

"i know."

"You don't!"

"i do."

"You don't!!"

"Will you two cut that out already?! It's like listening to two parrots!"

for once, flowey agreed with undyne.

——

"SANS. LOOK!"

"wow."

"...is it you?"

"OBVIOUSLY. WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE, WITH SUCH A DASHING RED SCARF?"

"i see it now."

"very cool, bro."

"WHAT DID YOU MAKE?"

"this. my magnum opus."

"THIS IS A BLANK COOKIE."

"two blank cookies."

"STUCK TOGETHER...?"

"sugar cookie sandwich."

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DECORATE THEM, NOT STICK TWO TOGETHER AND CALL IT A DAY!"

"you're right."

"should have been three."

"I'M NOT SAYING TO ADD 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘."

"if i add less, they won't be a sandwich anymore."

"WHY DO YOU WANT THEM TO BE A SANDWICH AT ALL?"

"because i can decorate two for the price of one."

"YOU DIDN'T DECORATE EITHER ONE."

"yeah, it was a steal. decorated zero for the price of two."

"IS THIS ALL YOU'VE DONE??"

"no."

pointing to the cyan mess.

"there's that one."

"DID YOU EVEN ADD ANYTHING TO ONE OF THE GINGERBREAD HOUSES?"

"i added a peppermint."

"𝘈 PEPPERMINT."

"a peppermint and two gumdrops."

"....WELL. IT'S MORE THAN LAST YEAR."

"PROGRESS!"

"Are your standards for what is 'progress' not a bit low..?"

"THEY HAVE TO BE WHEN IT COMES TO HIM."

"you know me; seeing how low the the bar is and still barely tripping on it."

"WHAT DID YOU MAKE, MS. TORIEL?"

"I have been getting this house standing."

"and sneaking the candies."

"Just a few here and there."

"and a cookie."

"I at least frosted mine before eating it, unlike someone."

"wonder who that could be."

"YOU'RE STILL EATING THE COOKIE."

"we'll never know."

——

𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙢.

the table shook as undyne smashed her fist into their gingerbread house.

i hardly saw the finished product before they decided on eating it immediately.

as a result of the table shaking, papyrus sighed as the other toppled over as well.

"At least we were pretty much done."

frisk consoled.

"now you get to eat it."

various pieces of gingerbread were passed around the table, as well as decorated cookies.

——

asgore was here but couldn't stay too much longer, so we packed him a nice to-go bag. papyrus even put a bow on it.

——

considering how long he's been doing food stuff, it should come as no surprise that grillby's decorated cookies are neat and pretty.

he and tori's are both on the same level, really.

flowey tried his best.

so did papyrus.

and anyone who's not the aforementioned same level.

didn't expect frisk to struggle with it so much.

"It's so goopy, dude! How does anyone work with icing??"

——

they stared at the icing tube in their hand.

"just gonna hold onto that all night?"

"....."

"Can I slurp it like a yogurt tube?"

"I've been fighting the urge this whole time."

"let me see."

"paps, are we gonna need these icings again?"

"NO, I BELIEVE THEY WERE JUST FOR TODAY. ANYONE CAN TAKE THEM."

tori was too engaged in conversation with undyne and alphys to be paying attention.

grillby couldn't care less.

he's used to someone downing odd things in his vicinity.

mettaton and napsta wouldn't care even if they were paying attention, either.

"promise to brush your teeth extra good tonight?"

"Yep."

"if you get sick from it, that's on you."

"Yep."

"ok."

"go ahead."

——

flowey poked at them, face-down to the floor in front of the couch.

with a slippered foot, i tapped frisk's side.

"so."

"So?"

"regret?"

"Regret that my body couldn't take it. I don't, otherwise."

"ok. if you do get sick, don't do it on your old lady's carpet here."

"I woon'tt."

doofus.

"think i should try it too?"

"Please do! I'd love to see you drop to the floor exactly like this idiot."

flowey said, also eating straight up icing.

he seems only benefitted from what'd be a unhealthy amount of sugar for anyone else.

"see you on the floor in a few minutes, kid."

——

"YOU DID WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU WHEN YOU'RE TALKING INTO THE CARPET."

"drank icing."

"𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗦 WHY YOU ASKED ABOUT THE ICING??"

"yep."

"WHY, BROTHER?"

"sounded good."

"FEELS LESS SO, BY THE LOOKS OF IT."

"i'll get over it."

dual sugar overload aside, it's chill down here.

[the-conversation-pod]

Winter 2024 Teaser

And we're back!

We have been recording so much for you all this season! We completed the first year of the show, and what a year it has been!

We've made a lot of friends through this show, and even picked up some help from @ginnymoonbeam and @lurkingshan who got to produce their own episode!

To complete the year, we are opening our longest season by discussing the big shows from the Fall, including Only Friends, I Feel You Linger in the Air, and What Did You Eat Yesterday? 2, before wrapping up the year with a packed Grab Bag episode.

As is our tradition, we will then have our Five-Part Very Important Internet BL Awards, covering our awards for Acting, Ships, Production, Best in Class, and Special Class Awards.

We'll then close out the season with our Lagniappe episode as always and hear from some of the listeners.

Enjoy teaser for the season.

The Conversation Transcripts!

Thanks to the continued efforts of @ginnymoonbeam as transcriber, and @lurkingshan as an editor and proofreader, we are able to bring you transcripts of the episodes.

We will endeavor to make the transcripts available when the episodes launch, and it is our goal to make them available for past episodes (Coming Soon thanks to @wen-kexing-apologist). When transcripts are available, we will attach them to the episode post (like this one) and put the transcript behind a Read More cut to cut down on scrolling.

Please send our volunteers your thanks!

[The teaser opens with the pod team chatting in a bar together.]

NiNi

Okay guys, so we are alive on the site of our annual–hopefully it's annual–podcast team staff meeting.

Ginny

Ohh! 

[Shan laughs]

Nini

And we just gonna give us, like, a little five-minute live about, like, what's—what's occurring? What's going on with the peeps? So, everybody say “hi.” Ben, say “Hi.”

Ben

“Whaddup?”

NiNi

Shan, say “hi.” 

Shan

“Heyo.”

Nini

Ginny say “hi.” 

Ginny

“Heyo!”

NiNi

And here's NiNi! So…

[Cut back to the normal recording booth.]

Ben

And we're back. Welcome to year two of The Conversation…

Ohh, let me try it again. [Strums fingers on desk. NiNi laughs]

I got this.

NiNi

Do you? Do you?

Ben

Yeah, I got this.

NiNi

Okay.

Ben

And we're back. Welcome to year two of The Conversation! Hello, NiNi.

NiNi

Oh my God, we've been doing this for a fucking year. How did we survive the last year? We did? I don't know how? But we did.

Ben

We survived it through sheer gumption and the Type-A planning of all of your lists that keep us organized between seasons.

NiNi

[laughs] I do be doing a lot.

Ben

This show is a BL podcast featuring two goofy-ass Millennials from the Caribbean who watch way too much BL.

NiNi

I mean, that's a good description.

Ben

NiNi, how would you describe me to the viewers?

NiNi

How would I describe Ben to the viewers?

Ben is… an intellectual. Ben is the kind of man who enjoys French film, I think.

Ben

I do. I actually watched one, like, two weeks ago.

NiNi

You see, I knew it. I knew it. Ben’s always getting me together, and that's the best part of our friendship. Ben is gathering me gently at all times—and I need to be gathered—sometimes, should be told, because I just be going off in too many different directions. 

So, a whole year with you. I have had a fabulous time so far, sir. And here's to many more.

How would you describe me?

Ben

You are a Thai BL girlie set upon by my goddamn queer cinephile sensibilities, who continues to put up with them.

[both laugh]

NiNi

I’m sorry [laughs]—I like other things!

Ben

I'm sorry. The Philippines is out of commission.

NiNi

[laughs] Rude. Accurate, but rude.

Ben

You're somebody with a really strong background in theater and dramatic storytelling who really appreciates the heightened drama aspects of the way Thailand approaches BL. The more telenovela BL becomes, or the more like big-romance-dramatic BL becomes—particularly in Thailand—the more fun you seem to have. 

And over the course of the last year when we've been unpacking these shows, we've been talking about where these shows really land emotionally for NiNi, who's into this for a lot of the fun and some of the camp and the way the romance plays out. And how I end up mostly focused on the queer truth that I can get out of these stories, and how strongly they resonate, and also how well put together these things are. 

We are the podcast for BL viewers who care about BL being genuinely good and not just fun.

[cuts back to the bar conversation]

NiNi

We are just doing like a little bit about—let's, let's pick a topic that's not gonna, like, piss off anybody too much.

Ben 

No! Let's start where we were—

[Shan laughs]

Ginny

You turned it on right when we were pissing people off!

[Shan laughs]

Ben

I am six drinks in. We're going in. Only Friends sucks— 

[NiNi laughs]

—and it made us like First and Khaotung less.

NiNi

Oh no…

Shan

Listen, it's the truth. 

Ben

Like! 

Shan

They were not the moment in this show.

Ben

Going into this show, Ginny and I were very quietly FK girlies.

[Shan and Ginny laugh]

Shan

Not that quietly.

Ben

You were not in our DMs!

[Everyone laughs]

Shan

I could feel the energy coming from your DMs!

[cuts back to the recording booth]

NiNi

It's been an interesting year for us. There have been highs, there have been lows, there have been arguments—very polite ones. There have been agreements. There's been a lot happening in the last year in the BL space and we're gonna talk about it really all through the winter season.

Season 5. Five seasons of this.

So we're going to talk about the things that we watched in the fall. We are going to talk about 2023 as a whole and what we got out of it. And it's winter, so you know what that means? We're going to give out some VIIB Awards.

Ben

I'm very excited for the VIIB Awards. It is the most contentious I think I have felt with you since we started doing all of this. Normally, I'm just excited to talk with you about things. I have never felt more antagonistic!

NiNi

Ben put on his eye black and he said, “What we not ‘bout to do!” 

[Ben laughs]

“These vibes you be feeling, that's all well and good. This is not the Vibes Awards, okauy? This is the VIIB Awards.” [NiNi laughs]

Ben

These are the Very Important Internet BL Awards.

NiNi

He's like, “You're gonna have to come with actual arguments.”

Ben

We will! We say these things are better than the rest? You better be specific, because there is a wide field of contenders!

NiNi

A very wide field, and I think that's part of the story of this year as well. For all the ups and downs, it has been a big year, I think, for BL. I don't know if you feel the same way.

Ben

I do. I mean, that's the problem for this year that we'll get into as we talk about this. This year has had some of my favorite good productions that the genre has ever produced, and that has made it really difficult for the things that are not.

We are not lacking for choice in the good.

[cuts back to the bar conversation]

Ben

And this show made me hate them.

Ginny

To be, to be clear: I still, like, this show did not make me hate either of them individually. Like, Khaotung did some phenomenal performances. First matched them. Maybe you disagree, but I did not feel that way about it. Yeah.

NiNi

[waves at Ginny to continue] All right! We’re getting it! 

Ginny

But I—

NiNi

It's going to be quiet, but I'll get it.

Ginny

—something about the way it was set up, I just did not. I came out of it feeling less hype about them as a pair.

Shan

Mhmm. I was never really a FirstKhao girlie. Like, I'm not into the pairs in general. You all know that I like ‘em to mix and match. But, I'm just like—

NiNi/Ben

Yeah, that's better.

Shan

—I just feel like they're both… They've both been better with other people, especially First.

[cuts back to the recording booth]

NiNi

We've got a packed season for you. Ten! Count ‘em: ten! It's our longest season ever. Ten fabulous episodes.

Ben

[laughs] Wait. What the fuck, really?

NiNi

Yes. 

Ben

Okay. 

[NiNi laughs]

So, if you want to hear people be kind of sassy and way too serious, and be more than a little bit drunk about BL—

[NiNi laughs]

—for about 15 hours over the next, like six weeks, we are your show!

NiNi

This is the Brown Liquor Podcast. [laughs]

[cuts back to the bar conversation]

NiNi

All right, I think we're gonna see if we get, what we get out of that. I don't know how much we're gonna get out of that. We will see. We had to try. [NiNi laughs as the audio trails off]

[quotidian-oblivion]

✨Out of context lines shitpost Pt. 8✨

Part 7

Quo: This is it... our last day of childcare course. And... *sighs* I'm getting choked up. I met @mispeltnostalgia and got to know her well through this course and she's been the best irl fanfic buddy and older brother despite being a year younger than me ever.

Nog: These out of context things have made me so happy and its fun to look back and remember the funny shit that we have said and done this year. this deffo won't be the last though. Quo and I will forever be saying and doing stupid shit. Quo is the best little sister ever and while I'll miss our fridays together she cant get rid of me. I know too many of her fanfics and she's beta-ing my works.

Quo: You beta-ed a couple of mine too!

We'll still be posting the out of context lines, but there are going to be longer gaps since we're not gonna meet on Fridays anymore :( There's still our weekly study sessions that we dubbed TEAS on Wednesday!

~

Tim: *holding a ball of wool to Jason’s face as a pretend mic* What do you say about the Curse you just found out you have Jason: *clears throat* I hope it kills me. ~ Jason: What do you have to say about your Curse? Tim: …I’ve had it since I was fucking born. ~ Barbara: So I bought a pack of quick oats because I love oats. And then I bought another pack of overnight oats because it had yoghurt, and now I’m just realizing that I really am just a horse. Little Shit Young!Jason: THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING. ~ Damian: I’ve been able to find a knife, I’ve been able to find a fork, but I can’t find a spoon. Jon: You have all the stabby objects in your bag Damian: I also have a fuckton of crochet hooks and— a pocket watch?? *pulls out pocket watch* Where the fuck is my spoon. ~ Steph: So I was getting pumped up for this song but then I just hear this tiny Alvin and the chipmunks voice say “Party Rock” and it just dashed my hopes. Listen to this *Plays Party Rock Anthem”. Damian: … Steph: Like, imagine getting pumped up for one of your childhood songs then you just suddenly hear “party rock” in this high-pitched voice and I felt like killing myself. Damian: … Steph: And hear me out— Damian: I don’t think i want to hear you out anymore. Steph: *Continues to play Bad Romance covered by the Alvin and the Chipmunks” ~ Tim: *Watching a video of Bruce* Bart: Wait, your dad sounds American. Bart: And he speaks kind of like you too! Tim: Yeah, I wonder why my American dad who raised me sounds and has the same speech patterns as me. Hmm, good question. Bart: I just wasn’t expecting it. I forgot that American dads were a thing. ~ Steph: i am granting you the honor of waffle ~ Barbara: *looking for a place to put popcorn. Places the popcorn against Dick’s lap* Dick: hell yeah crotch popcorn! Omg crotchcorn! Barbara: Please don't. ~ Bruce: You have to be very careful out there. These racist attacks are getting worse. Dick: Don't worry, Pops. I'm with a white person, I'll be fine. Barbara: *chokes on her drink with laughter* ~ Tim: *mixes soda water, energy drink and trace amounts of tea together in a tumbler* For funsies. *chugs it* ~ Jason: *falls to the floor, crumbles and silently screams in a public library* Barbara: Stop it, you’re embarrassing yourself Jason: I’m a drama kid, I can do whatever I want ~ Steph: *singing* I am not a quitter Tim: *singing with her* Pocket full of glitter Steph: Yarn balls, I’m a knitter!  Steph and Tim: *singing together* I’m the whole package, baby! Tim: I haven’t met you Steph: But if you’re staaable Tim and Steph: Then here’s my number! And call me Mabel! ~ Alfred: *grabs Bruce by the shoulders and shakes* BE PRODUCTIVE! ~  Steph: IS THAT A PURPLE BALLOON??? Steph: *walks over, picks it up, and carries it like a baby* *whispers* I’m pregnant ~  Damian, high on pain meds: *giggling while he draws Tim falling off a roof* whee whee, hee hee, I’m so funny. Hee hee hee. He’s falling off a building.

[system-of-a-feather]

Here's the thing I feel a lot of people have a lot of trouble wrapping their heads around regarding my trauma responses and mental health profile and all is just that some of my arguably most "symptomatic" moments tend to ALSO be my most productive - either on a personal or societal level. And I don't mean to say that in a good way either.

I can't really properly genuinely and full heartedly feel right complaining because in the end of the day, my life gets better and better at a rapid rate and most decisions while biting off a lot more immediate stress do make it so that I am doing way better than other people in my situation would

But at the same time, it never stops and even if everything I do makes my life better and better, I really really don't know how to stop and I struggle to stop and due to a combination of trauma-driven behavior and just shit that is so so so so deeply ingrained, every time I get a moment of extended peace, I end up creating a really good, really productive multi month plan and just consume my time that way.

And I know that I'm doing it - every time I know that I am doing it, but I can't really just say no when the alternative is that I have to sit with the extreme discomfort of stagnancy and sit in an experience I am not used to, be aware of and tolerate a state of stress and misery when I know how to fix it, and just generally knowingly doing what I am certain would be a positive in favor of a hypothetical, theoretically healthy "break"

As a result, I rarely really get the chance to stop and take a break. I rarely get the chance to stop and ENJOY the fruit of my labor. I always have a moment in the future to work for and it's exhausting.

Anyways, I just made a huge plan that is gonna take up a good chunk of time and I am super excited but I'm also, just for a minute looking at myself and sighing, cause its a huge hassle and I am once again filling my down time with manufactured challenges.

Yeah the challenges will greatly help my life so it isn't POINTLESS challenges, but again - I always have to ask myself - where is the end to this?

Every year, every month, every time, that's the question I always have to ask and I never really have a satisfactory answer - only loose theoreticals.

At what point, can I just enjoy existing?

At what point will I stop chasing an amorphous "when things are right" and "when nothing can disrupt our security" and "when I have [insert environmental change]".

Cause honestly, at this point, all I want is a place and sustainable life style to roost in. I wanna make a nest and just sleep in it. I'm probably not Riku, either Fei or some fragment part, because I know Riku TM has so many projects that theyd want to work on IN their roost, but I dunno. I personally just honestly want to stop having to have three bags packed and ready to fly the coop

I really really can't complain though. This flight, while absolutely driven by this extremely entrenched maladaptive coping mechanism and a total flight response to life challenges, is a very very very smart decision and direction to go and I think its a good idea and will help us in the long run and all that on a mental, financial, socio-emotional, and physical level, but I really can't say I'm not tired of Doing This.

For context, since I don't think we ever said it, Riku felt moderately anxious and mildly depressed (they have been this whole time because they can't sit and wait for other people to give information so they can plan things) and checked up on a thing and in less than 48 hours

>decided they were going to assume PhDs all were rejecting us (fair) rather than hoping cause our system really doesn't do "hope" we just Do Action >decided they were done living in California cause its stupid expensive >decided to check out jobs in Colorado (one of our ideal long term end goal states to live in) >decided to apply to three >got an interview back for 2 >got a job offer >began active coordination with our fiance to move to Colorado

And it's great, it honestly really is. (figured it out, mostly Chunn lol) On all levels its a good idea and it brings us closer to the "when we have [nonexhaustive list of things that need to be met in life] we can enjoy" which is honestly something we need + we've been needing to get out of this area that we grew up in mental health wise. The level of which we can confidentally make these decisions as a whole and our ability to plan and what not is great and amazing

It's just also like.... damn we really work fast and sometimes its hard to keep up with ourselves man.

Honestly, I'm looking forward to it. I am, there's like so many great places for me to walk and bike and sit and shit there compared to here. I just also am still the part that is a variation of Data who I know would be having an aneurysm and this is all a lot for my headass that just wants to sit and look at trees.

Sometimes I'm too autistic for this system and how fast they move and make changes. It's ableist, I struggle with transitions //joking//