#i have a couple more but saving those for a different post

[delopsia]

Icing | Bob x Reader x Rhett

Word Count: 5,300 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, improper use of icing, food is mentioned several times, blow jobs, grinding, hand jobs, overstimulation, planning for a wedding 💐 it's porn with a very vague plot Brief Summary: This icing, in particular, is not going on the cake, but you don't mind so long as it's on Bob Floyd. 

"Are you sure this is how we're supposed to do it?" 

"What makes you ask that?" Bobby chirps, barely audible over the hum of the hand mixer. His eyes flick down to the cake pan held between your hands. "Seems perfectly fine to me." 

The beater bumps into the edge of the bowl. Icing splatters across the countertop. 

You think that might be the whisper of a swear, crossing the room. 

"I don't know, it just...feels weird," but you're pulling open the door to the oven, anyhow. A plume of heat washes across your face, like the blaze of a campfire, threatening to roast you alive.

But fortunately, the only thing being baked is this tiny pan of cake batter. Locked away to its doom of inhumane temperatures until it rises to perfection. 

"Honey, there are only so many ways you can bake a cake," Bob's entirely unaware of the blue icing staining his cheek as he reaches for a damp cloth. Now that you give it a squint, you reckon it might be up in his hair, too. 

"Well, last I checked," reaching out to swipe at his face with your thumb, raising it to your lips. Different color. Same taste as before. "Most folks don't have to bake their own wedding cake samples."

His head turns back to the thin list of instructions, scanning over where he left off, and—oh, well, he's got blue in his hair, too. 

"Hey, get a load of this," Rhett's voice echoes from the living room, socked feet thumping across the hardwood. "They're sellin' that ol' rodeo property in town." 

You're not entirely sure what woke him; if it was the clatter of skillets as you clumsily withdrew them from the oven, or if it was the bickering over why Bobby continues to use the appliance as a storage unit. It had to have been something you two did; fifteen minutes is astronomically short for a Rhett nap.

Maybe he never went to sleep to begin with because he's got a newspaper in hand. Today's date sits proudly in the corner, next to his thumb; he must have picked it up from the gas station on his drive home. 

"We should buy it," waggling the paper in his hand, like it'll somehow convince you and Bobby to scrounge up ninety-five grand for an arena that has been abandoned for the better half of two decades.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Bob's mixer kicks back on, an obnoxious noise sounding through the kitchen. Surely, there have to be quieter models out there. "We'll put an offer in next week."

"Ha. Ha," Rhett's eyes roll, the newspaper falling onto the recently cleared counter, right where Bobby was saving space for the blue icing. "Funny." 

His mouth opens like he's got more to say, but nothing slips past those thin lips. Soft blue eyes flicker across the counter, scanning across your rainbow assortment of icings, the sample baggies of sprinkles and candles, and the portfolio of decorative figures. Not one of the premade couples comes with a third partner, but you're not entirely sure if you want to go that route to begin with.

Rhett's nose wrinkles; lost. You've got nothing more than a shrug to offer.

"All I'm sayin' is," picking back up on the hanging conversation, he reaches out to poke his finger into an open dish of sprinkles. The ones made to look like pearls. There were more, but half got lost when you accidentally ripped the package open. "You'll have a lotta time on your hands when ya leave the Navy."

The mixer shuts off. 

"Who said I was leaving the Navy?" 

Rhett's lifting a pearl to his mouth, obnoxious tongue poking out to catch it. "You, last night." 

"And the night before that." You add, with a nudge of your shoulder.

And the night before that one. Sometime five mornings ago. Again, last week. After the most recent deployment and the one before that. Before the engagement and way before the house was bought...actually, when has he not talked about this?

The pearl cracks so loud that you almost wonder if it chipped Rhett's tooth. His brows furrow, shifting the hunk of sugar around in his mouth. "The hell are you two doin'...?" 

"We're baking our wedding cake samples," and even with Bob saying it so matter of factly, it doesn't sound right. Nothing about this picture is correct.

Rhett's head tilts to the side. Even the dark hair cascading into his face can't hide those questioning eyes. 

"See?" Throwing your hand out as if Bobby hasn't noticed the puppy-dog of a man standing on the other side of the island. "Even he's confused by this."

Nobody bakes their own wedding cake samples. This is your sign to find a better bakery! Before the stakes grow even higher! 

Careful, Bob pulls the mixer from the bowl, turning around to drop the beaters into the sink. "He's always confused."

"Hey!" Rhett squawks. "Ya jus' gonna say that 'n turn your back to me?" 

Not a word leaves Bob's mouth, deliberately keeping his back to you and Rhett as if to drive home his unspoken point. He's doing his best to remain firm, but even so, you can see the way the corner of his lip rises with every passing second. Must be able to hear the way Rhett's rounding the corner, big hands reaching out to grab hold of bony hips. 

It's a little too easy for him to force Bob to turn. 

"What, can't say it to my face?" Any venom in Rhett's tone is lost in the midst of his chuckle. Amused. 

Still, Bobby remains quiet, defiantly folding his arms across his chest, like that will somehow stop the smile from bursting onto his pale face. It's a losing game. Rhett knows it. You know it. He knows it. The whole world knows it.

Rhett's tilting his head, leaning close. "Say." Kiss. "It." Kiss. Bob's hand reaches out toward the counter. "To."  Kiss. "My." Kiss. His finger dips into blue icing. "Face." Kiss. "Pal."  Kiss.

One blink, and you nearly miss it. The swift drag of Bobby's fingertip, smearing the artificially dyed sweetness onto Rhett's thin lips. Leaves just a big enough mess for him to lean in and press his mouth to Rhett's, that soft pink tongue darting out to lick it off. It ends as quickly as it started, with Bobby turning back to the counter, already beginning to pour another pack of sprinkles into an empty container.

Rhett's wide eyes meet with yours. Bewildered.

...huh.

"What do we think of lemon?" Bobby's speaking as if nothing ever happened. Acting it, too. 

You're not entirely sure what he means by that. "I'm sorry?" 

"Cake flavors," holding up a non-descript packet of mix. "There's lemon in here." 

Rhett's nose wrinkles, and you can't help but wonder if he's recalling the sourness of the lemon pie you two tried to put together for Bobby. Worst damn welcome home present you've ever made. 

"Is there a difference to the icin'?" Rhett asks, poking at one of the bowls. 

"They're all the same." Bob's head shakes, sprinkles audibly pouring out of the packet and into yet another bowl. Who's gonna wash all these dishes, anyhow? 

Rhett's eyes meet with yours. Brows furrowing, like this is the most absurd thing he's ever heard. If the initial confusion hadn't already worn off, you reckon you'd be feeling the same damn thing. Who does this, and why are you just letting it happen? Is your life so devoid of joy that this is what you've allowed yourself to resort to?

Or is Bob Floyd just very, very good at convincing you to blindly follow his lead?

Idle, Rhett's hand dips into some of the icing. Slow. Flying just below the radar of Bobby's peripheral. "So why'd ya make every color?" 

And your poor WSO hasn't the slightest damn clue, reaching for yet another container of sprinkles. "To see what—" 

Rhett's big hand presses into Bob's pale cheek, vibrant orange icing splattering against his skin. Dragging down, down, down his neck and onto the little bit of chest peeking out from the low collar of his shirt. 

You know what's going to happen before it even starts. Bobby's fingers dive into a pool of pale yellow. Smacking it into Rhett's broad chest, gets the base of his neck and all. And Rhett's reaching for the pink, dragging it across an unwitting forearm. Bob's going for green. Reaching for Rhett's scruffy jaw. Giggles bubble through the air. 

Blue splatters across the kitchen floor and across your shirt. 

Your white shirt. "Hey!"

"He started it!" Bob squeaks. But he's stumbling backward, bumping into you as he reaches for another bowl—ammunition for the next attack. 

All Rhett can do is grin. "Did I?" 

Insufferable. 

Your hand darts out from your side, venturing to the counter. 

Purple splatters across Bobby's clothed belly. The only spot you could reach. 

"Both of you?" Bobby's squawking. Twisting. Turning until he's got his back to the sink and not you or Rhett, his vibrantly colored hands held toward the ceiling. Surrender, or preparing his next move? You're not sure yet. 

God, he's a mess. Splatters of orange, pink, blue, and plain white, stretching from his nose to his belly; you think there might be a little bit of purple lurking beneath his chin. Rhett's not doing much better, green clinging to his jaw, chest decorated with a vibrant smear of yellow. 

"What else are we s'pposed t' do with all this icin'?" He asks, lifting his fingers to his lips, short pink tongue darting out to lap up the sweetness clinging to his skin. 

Bob's eyes roll. You wonder if he's noticed the drop of green on his lens. "Well, wearing it shouldn't even make the list!" But it's nothing compared to the icing on his neck, sickly sweet and spread thin over the thick vein that bulges from beneath his skin. 

"I can think of a few ideas," muttering, entranced. 

Out of his peripheral, Rhett meets your eye. The corner of his lip twitches up, fingers slipping out of his mouth with a wet 'pop' so loud that it echoes through the kitchen. 

"What..." Bob swallows. Adam's apple rising and falling. Soft blues flicker between you and Rhett; must be able to read the thoughts filtering through your head. "Would that entail, exactly?"

You don't know who steps forward first. But one way or another, your sticky hands are finding their way to Bobby's chest, bracing yourself as you lean in. Rhett's so close that his hair tickles your cheek; he had a longer distance to cross than you did, and yet he's already beating you to the point. Licking a fat, wet stripe up the side of Bob's neck. 

And you're in hot pursuit. Licking up the other side, trailing across that thick vein, multicolored icing greeting your taste buds. But that sugary sweetness is nearly dulled in comparison to the soft mewl that rolls out of Bobby's mouth, his head rolling backward. 

"Okay..." he breathes, "that's..."

The flavor of this icing is far from your favorite; it isn't even close to the one you had in mind when contacting the bakery, but you can hardly pay it any attention. Nothing but a mild annoyance when you've got this to preoccupy your mind with. Bob's hand, working its way up your side. Rhett's soft hum, downright delighted with this predicament. 

Careful, your lips press to a soft patch of skin beneath his ear, sucking lightly. Not enough to bruise his terribly sensitive skin, but still managing to leave behind a faint redness in your wake. One tiny little mark after another, spots blending amongst the vivid orange that you've yet to lick up.

This icing, in particular, is not going on the cake, but you don't mind so long as it's on Bob Floyd. Him and his sticky, heaving chest, squirming as you work lower, lower, lower. Teeth grazing across his collar, tugging on the flesh stretched thin over the bone there. 

Rhett's shoulder knocks into your side, a little too broad to be squeezing himself in next to you. His hands venture to the hem of Bob's horribly stained t-shirt, yanking upward.

"The cake," Bob's panted protest is hardly one at all, "you can't...it'll burn." And yet he's obediently lifting his arms, letting Rhett pull the shirt over his head. Maybe letting it fall to the floor isn't the best idea, but you're in no position to raise even the slightest objection.

"We have time," you murmur. Lie. You don't even know if you set the timer. 

Frankly, you don't care. It's just too damn easy to forget about. Letting your mouth find its way down Bob's pale chest, a thin trail of saliva marking your path as if you could possibly become lost in this familiar terrain. 

But even though you've had a head start, Rhett still manages to beat you to the checkpoint, his lips wrapping around a delicate nipple. So sudden that Bob jerks beneath you, his feet stumbling. Two can play this game, though, and Rhett can only pay attention to one thing at a time. 

Without the slightest warning, you sink down. Knees thunking heavily against the cold kitchen tile. They'll ache when you ultimately climb back to your feet, but that's for the future version of you to worry about. Right now, your bold hand is soothing over the heavy bulge in these sweats, feeling how Bobby twitches from the simplest touch. 

"Can't believe you're already hard, Robby," teasing, your thumb swipes right beneath his tip. The wet spot forming in the thin gray material is like a reward.

"You're..." his head rolls, fingers tugging at Rhett's hair, "surprised?" 

Not in the slightest. 

It's Rhett who reaches for the thick elastic of Bob's waistband. Watching through thick lashes as you help pull it downso swiftly that his cock brushes your cheek as it springs up to smack against his belly. Flushed a bright ruby, a small bead of precum running down the underside of him.

"Shit," Rhett swears; it's so quiet that you can hear the way his knees creak as he settles down next to you. 

And now both of you are down here, caught up in some kind of perfect synchrony, leaning forward to run your tongues up the sides of Bob's cock. Relishing in that shuddered gasp as you and Rhett meet at his head, lips brushing in what was meant to be a sloppy kiss, but it's more of a clash of tongues than anything. Broken apart by Bob's soft cock head, caught perfectly in the middle.

"You...." Bob's hand bumps into your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there, "fuck, you two are..." 

Rhett's chuckle is all it takes to have Bob's sharp hips bucking forward, pushing himself right past your parted lips. Wasn't exactly next up on your itinerary, but you're rolling with it as if it was. Sucking gently, tongue swiping back and forth beneath it. Teasing while you still can. 

Not a single beat is missed. With the delicate hollow of your cheeks and the lazy way Rhett mouths at the side of him, it's almost hard to believe that this wasn't choreographed earlier in the day. As if anyone could have predicted that Bob was serious about this whole 'baking cake samples' thing.

"Y' likin' that, Bobby?" Rhett hums, pausing to graze his teeth against delicate skin. "Watchin' both of us on our knees for ya?" 

You're leaning back, and Rhett's moving in to take over for you. Doesn't need to use his hands, as he sucks that leaking tip into his mouth.

Bob sucks in a breath. His other hand dives into Rhett's hair, tangling in the mess of it. "How could I—mhm, not?" 

All of a sudden, Rhett's sliding further down, eyes scrunching shut as Bob knocks into the back of his throat, but that's never been enough to deter him. It's a wonder he's got a gag reflex at all. You can't help but twist yourself around, a hand coming to rest on his lower back, bracing yourself as you find your way to the underside of his jaw. Air audibly puffs through his nose. Always has been sensitive here. 

Sweet, too, with all of this icing to be licked up. There simply isn't another person cut out for this sort of job. The artificial flavor is far from your favorite, but you can't be inclined to share. Not when he tries to lean into it, a muffled grunt rumbling out of him. 

Above you, Bob can't close his mouth. "That's...oh, that's—"

A shrill beep tears through the air. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

So you did set the timer. Lucky him.

And Rhett laughs. Barely able to pull away before he chokes, swollen lips glistening as they meld with the shape of his smile. "Guess ya gotta check that, flyboy."

This is the first and likely the last time you'll see Bob Floyd check an oven with his sweats pooling around his thighs, heavy cock bouncing as he leans down to see what he's doing. Is the cake done? Or burnt? You haven't the slightest clue because Rhett's kissing at the side of your neck, and any self-control you had left dissolves in an instant.

"Shame y' didn't get more of this on ya," he's speaking into your skin, vibrating right up into your head and rattling all your thoughts off their metaphorical shelves. 

The stain on your brand-new shirt is speaking otherwise. "This stuff doesn't even taste that great."

"'s good when it's on one of you," he does, unfortunately, make a really good point. The kind that lets him get away with pushing your pants down your legs,  underwear and all, right here in the damn kitchen. So much for trying to break the habit of kitchen shenanigans. 

You wonder if this memory will wander back into your mind the next time you invite guests over and eat in this kitchen. 

Rhett's hands settle on the sides of your waist, pulling you into him as he leans backward. Knocking the back of his head against the tile can't feel good, but he doesn't react in the slightest. Too busy pulling you on top of him, your legs straddling his wide hips. They hitch upward, so strong that they push you along with it, as he shoves his shorts down his legs, cock audibly smacking against his belly, swiping against your thigh as it drifts past.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" Your hands brace against his chest, chasing the illusion of stability.

"Mhm," is the best he's got to offer, and he's hardly got to guide you any further. You're already beating him to the punch, grinding down against his length, letting him slip between your parted lips. 

Fuck, it's been a while since you last felt his weeping cock head drag against your clit. You wonder if he can feel the way you involuntarily clench around nothing, sent into a mindless spasm from that alone.

Bobby's knees audibly knock against the floor, and you're not entirely sure where his sweats went. "You two move too damn fast."

"Maybe you're just slow," there's nothing but playfulness in your tone, albeit the slightest bit breathless. You can't help it. Not when you've got this going on between your legs. Rhett and his big cock rolling up into you, chasing the feeling of your pussy against him. Beads of precum slicken the glide, every motion punctuated by a sickly wet little noise.

"'n ya say I'm the one always givin' ya trouble," Rhett's not doing much to help his own case, but then again, you don't think that was his goal. 

It's an awkward angle, with Bob sitting on his knees and Rhett laying against the floor, but he's craning his head up, tongue greeting the underside of Bob's cock. A fleeting sort of thing that only lasts a moment or three.

"You're gonna upset your shoulder if you keep doing that," Bobby hums, not making any move to stop Rhett from trying at it again, lips stubbornly wrapping around his mushroom tip. 

There's a spin in your head that wasn't there before. Lightheaded over the sight before you and the sweet throb of your cunt, sliding against Rhett's shaft like you're aiming to win a first-place trophy. Hands flat against his heaving chest, trembling arms hardly keeping your body upright as your hips roll. 

"Can feel ya gettin' wetter round me," Rhett's eyelashes are fluttering, and it's all he can do to keep himself from knocking his skull against the tile again. "Fuck." 

"As if you're not dripping like a damn faucet," your words hitching on a gasp, the embers of a whine building in the back of your throat. Getting off to this wasn't on your list of plans, but with every soft massage of his plush tip, you're growing closer to writing it at the very top. 

Rhett's back arches off the ground, legs kicking beneath you, like he can feel the heat that's flooding your lower belly. Makes it so damn hard for you to keep moving your body back and forth, hopelessly grinding back and forth, obsessed with the way he kisses your clit on every pass. 

"God, you two should see yourselves," Bobby says it like he's caught up in a trance; you don't think you've seen him blink since he knelt down here.

"Enjoying the show?" Speaking through a gasp. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your eyes are rolling backward, and Rhett's twitching against you, and it's so, so much. 

His hands settle on your aching thighs. Blunt nails digging into the meat of them. Does nothing to ward off the shiver that's settled into the muscle there. But his hips are rising up off the floor, and he's rutting himself into you properly now, rubbing against your poor clit over and over and over. 

"Rhett—" whimpering high in your throat. Head tilting back. You're...he's...

"C'mon," in that raspy tone of his, wavering with the motion of his body, "cum on my cock."

Bob's cool hand glides up the side of your neck, and that is it. 

A choked noise echoes through the kitchen and into the living room. Spasming, cumming to the drag of him against your clit alone.  Clenching helplessly around nothing but air, a ripple running up your spine. Your arms crumple out from under you. Stars sparkle behind your eyelids like the night sky. Falling into a messy heap on Rhett's chest, helpless as his cock keeps rubbing against your dripping cunt. 

"Ah—Rhett!" Jolting. Oversensitive. And it's all you can do to slide off of him, letting gravity drag you down to his side instead, a leg lazily sprawled overtop his thigh. You don't know if he's laughing or if you're hearing the hammer of your heart beating away in your ears. 

"Awful quick," Bob's eyes flick to you, hardly able to conceal the playful glint in them.  

You ought to give him trouble for such a comment, but your head is still spinning like it's about to float up into the clouds. The best you can do is to swipe out with your hand, smacking against his belly. "Like you're any better." 

Rhett's chest rumbles with a chuckle. You're not entirely sure when he got his arm around you, but it's carefully squeezing you into him. Keeping you snug against his chest as Bobby moves to settle between his legs. 

And this...this is a hell of an angle to be observing from. You don't have to move your eyes or tilt your head at all, comfortably gazing at the sight of Rhett's plush thighs caging Bob's waist. On its own, your hand darts out, grabbing a handful of one. There's so much more to squeeze compared to when you first met; he's exchanged that wiry frame for something thicker, stronger, too. 

Bob's reaching for his own cock, still wet with saliva, as he leans forward, fingers darting out to wrap around Rhett, too. 

One stroke and Rhett's hips lift off the floor. "Shit." 

He's so damn wet, with what mess you've made of him and the precum spilling out of his inflamed tip like a dripping faucet. Bob's thumb swipes out, collecting the clear fluid and spreading it onto himself, but before he's done there's already another bead of it forming. 

"Good lord, Rhett," Bob mutters, and you're not entirely sure where he got that packet of lube from, tearing it open with his teeth, already beginning to pour the sticky substance onto their cocks.

So much for trying to break Rhett of that habit.

If he'd give Rhett a few minutes, you think he'd spill out enough to warrant forgoing lube altogether, but Bobby can only stretch his patience so far. Never has been able to hold out for very long when it comes to you and Rhett. That big hand of his gives an experimental stroke, a wet squelch sounding through the delicate air; you don't know who groans louder.

What you do know is that the sight before you is downright obscene. Rhett's legs squeezing around Bobby like he'll disappear if he doesn't, their heavy cocks twitching into one another. How Rhett's tip has a darker shade of red as compared to Bob's pale pink. They look so similar until they're right next to each other like this; it's the only way to tell that Bob's a fraction longer but not quite as thick as Rhett is. 

Bob jerks forward, pressing impossibly closer. "Does that feel good?" As if he's not speaking around his own strangled breath. 

You have to lift your head to get a better look at Rhett's face. Eyes scrunched shut, teeth worrying his thin bottom lip, cheeks flushed with a newfound redness. "Uhuh." His head shakes with what you think is a nod.

Maybe that's an answer Bob was looking for, but you want to hear more. "Use your words, cowboy." 

"It feels—" Swallowing hard. A microscopic mewl breaks past his lips. "Feels good!"

He's already dissolving into a mess of squirms, wriggling back and forth, the swift stroke of Bob's hand too much for him to handle. Bucking upward, only to try and draw away, unshaven jaw shivering like a leaf in the wind. 

Your fingers drift upward, nails dragging across the soft meet of his inner thigh, knuckles brushing against his balls as you drift past. Lightly rolling them in your palm would draw the prettiest sounds out of him, but today, you've got a slightly different plan in mind. Fingertips wander into the soft expanse of skin behind them, rubbing in loose circles. 

A pitchy cry rings in your ears. Rhett's hand flies up. Tugging at his own hair. Desperate to grab hold of something. "Fuck! 'm gonna..." His head thrashes, pretty neck barred to the world. "I'm, I'm—"

"You fixin' to cum for us, sweet thing?" Bobby's voice sounds akin to thunder, a little twang in his tone. His thumb darts out, rapidly swiping back and forth across Rhett's plush cock head.

Curls bounce with Rhett's nod. Hardly able to close his mouth and stifle his moan. Yet, it's so loud that you can hear it anyway. Your fingers keep spiraling, pressing the slightest bit harder. You're almost certain that you can feel the sporadic twitch of muscle as his back arches, cumming with a wail. 

A rope of white paints across his belly. The next one caught by Bobby's still moving hand. Disappearing into the squelching mix of lube and precum and your own juices, some kind of lewd recipe for disaster. Rhett's hips jerk. Yanks a grunt out of him. 

But Bobby's not stopping. Still pumping their cocks together as if nothing ever happened. If anything, you think he's going faster, and it's got Rhett jumping around like a wounded animal. Mouth wide open. Brows knit together. 

"Too much, too much, that's not—ah!"  He squeals. Panting hard. Frantically pawing at Bob's hand, but it's doing nothing to end his torment. 

"Hang on for me," Bob's eyes scrunch shut. Hissing through his teeth. Close. "You can do it."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't, that—haah!" Rhett's twitching. Wailing. Legs kicking in the air.Still smacking at Bob's rapidly jerking fist as if that can possibly save him, but he's not uttering a single note of his safe word. Merely dissolving into a frenzied babble of, "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby!"

That's all it takes for Bob's pale blue eyes to roll into the back of his head with a soft, deepened groan. Set off by the babbled cry of a helpless cowboy, trembling like a leaf beneath him. Rope after rope of cum, splattering against Rhett's lower belly and all over his softening cock. A visible shiver rakes its way up Bob's spine, and for a moment you think his glasses are about to fall off.

 Finally, finally, the motion of that big hand is beginning to slow, loosening until Rhett's length slips from his grip entirely, smacking against his skin. Between the wateriness of Rhett's eyes and the redness in Bob's cheeks, you're not entirely sure where to look. Each are tempting in their own right, but not enough time to focus on both. 

You suppose your distraction is why it takes a moment to realize that Bob's actually moving. Leaning down at a snail's pace, his lips pressing to your forehead, lingering for a moment or three before moving on to Rhett's, pressing a kiss to him, too. "Maybe we should call a different bakery," he murmurs, half-lidded gaze flickering to you. 

If this is all it took, then next time, you'll skip the arguing and jump right into kissing down his neck. "You think?" There's a hoarseness to your voice that wasn't there before; you blame the icing. 

Whether or not he caught the sarcasm in your tone, you have no idea. 

"Yeah..." Bobby pauses as Rhett leans in to steal a proper kiss on the lips. "Now we've gotta do something with all these ingredients."

Rhett hums. Sounds akin to a cat purring. "I have a few ideas." You wonder if those ideas include smearing each other with icing again or offhandedly snacking on sprinkles for the next several months.

"I'll hear you out on those ideas," yawning, a strangled little noise escaping you, "when we're in bed."

A valid request, but Bobby's wrinkling his nose at it. "How about a bath, then bed."

"Y' act like we were just rollin' in mud," Rhett's fingers tap at your shoulder, gently squeezing. 

"I love you two, but I draw the line at sticky sheets." Well, if Bob wants you to take a bath so damn bad, then he's gonna have to help you find the strength to get off this floor. Your hand reaches out, opening and closing in a grabbing motion. 

It takes a couple seconds of looking at it for him to realize what you're asking, but after a moment, he slips his hand into yours, holding it as he rises to his feet. Something in your knee audibly pops as he pulls you up, an ache blooming in the bone from digging into the floor earlier. Your feet stumble, knocking into Rhett and nearly taking him back down with you.

"You're a mess, sweetheart," Bob laughs, pulling on your hand as if you're still due to fall at any moment. You're not entirely sure when you acquired the purple icing on your thigh or the smear of green running down your leg; you refuse to acknowledge the array of colors on the floor until after you've had a nap. 

"So are you," not an ounce of venom in your tone, despite the attempt at mustering some kind of sarcastic bite. Behind you, Rhett hums his agreement. Someone started this, and it certainly was not you or Rhett. 

"No, I'm not," Bob's beaming, almost proud of himself. "You two licked me clean, remember?" 

It'll take the rest of the day for him to notice the icing on his glasses. 

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #rhett abbott #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #hawtho #hawthorn au #oneshot #tw food

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📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

#reference #tutorial #writing #rpgmaker #renpy #video games #game design #i had this in my drafts for a while so you get it now. sorry its so long #long post

[pinchofhoney]

broken promises, part one

part one | part two | part three »

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

warning: none

summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.

a/n: coryo is the type of person i sincerely hate and i'm glad that there are no such arrogant people in my life, who think they are better than others and who in crisis situations only care about themselves and to save their own arse. but at the same time i'm aware that young snow could be someone i'd catch a crush on at school. so why shouldn't i hate him even more?

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: you told me to tag you everywhere, so i'm back to doing it again; @wolfmoonmusic

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

The problem with snow is its tendency to melt, mirroring the way we once thought our feelings would endure forever. Yet, shouldn't emotions, particularly those nestled in our hearts, last longer?

You had known Coriolanus since childhood, and your families had always been close. You had grown up together, surviving the hardships of the war-torn Capitol side by side, and now, in the post-war era, you were still inseparable. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you going above a simple friendship. Your connection ran deep, like the roots of the oldest trees in the Panem's forests.

Coriolanus was an intriguing character, a puzzle you had been solving together since you were children. He was the embodiment of Capitol charm, with his perfectly tailored suits, polished manners, and charismatic smile that could sway even the most skeptical of Capitol elites. But you knew that beneath that carefully constructed facade was a mind as sharp as a blade and a heart that carried the weight of his family's fallen reputation.

Yet, when he was with you, it was as if a different side of him emerged. The hard lines on his face softened, and his icy demeanor melted away. With you, he could be himself, unburdened by the expectations of Capitol society. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask, and you cherished those moments even more than your favorite jasmine tea and the cat you found shortly after the war had ended.

You couldn't help but admire his intelligence, his quick wit, and his relentless determination to succeed in a world that often seemed stacked against him. His family's name might have been tarnished, but Coriolanus was determined to reclaim their lost glory. He was driven by a burning ambition that flickered like an eternal flame, and you were his unwavering support, the one who fanned that flame to keep it burning bright.

In your eyes, he was more than the sum of his flaws and ambitions. He was the boy you had shared secrets with under moonlit skies, the man who had held you when the world crumbled around you, and the person who knew you better than anyone else. With him, you felt safe, cherished, and loved in a way that no one else could replicate.

Your love for him was boundless, and you were content in the knowledge that you were his confidante, the one person he could be truly vulnerable with. Your relationship with Coriolanus was the envy of many in academy, a seemingly perfect match of two souls intertwined by fate and affection. You were the golden couple, a shining example of love and devotion in a world that often lacked both.

But you wished you had known sooner that it's often the things we love most that destroy us, as Coriolanus Snow's world was about to collide with that of a girl named Lucy Gray and you were not ready for it to happen.

As the day of the tribute's arrival approached, you had been by Coriolanus's side more than ever. The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with your unwavering support. You had reassured him countless times, sitting together in your cozy bedroom, his head resting gently on your thighs while you combed your fingers through his soft blonde curls. It was a calming gesture, one that had become a comforting routine. You listened to his concerns, his fears, and his ambitions, and you were sure that everything would be fine, that he would be just perfect as a mentor, and that his scholarship and dreams of continuing his studies at the university were within reach.

Your words were like a soothing melody to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this daunting new role. He would look into your eyes with his cold ones, filled with gratitude, and you could see the weight lifting from his shoulders, if only temporarily. And in those moments, you felt like his anchor, the one who kept him grounded amid the chaos of his own thoughts.

Now, you both stood at the nearly deserted train station, the oppressive heat of the day hanging heavily in the air. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting shimmering waves of heat across the empty platform. It seemed that most of the Capitol's citizens had chosen to stay indoors, seeking refuge from the sweltering weather.

The only other souls present were a handful of stoic peacekeepers, their pristine white uniforms stark against the dull backdrop of the station. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond, a reminder of the bustling Capitol life that lay just outside the station's borders.

Coriolanus tightly held a single white rose plucked from his grandmother's garden, a symbol of his intent to make a lasting impression on his tribute. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of your academy uniforms. The simplicity of the white rose spoke of his sincerity and dedication to this new role as mentor.

With no clear timetable for the tribute train's arrival, the two of you stood patiently, pretending that the day's weather didn't bother you, the weight of uncertainty hanging over you like a heavy cloud. Coriolanus shifted his gaze between the tracks and the single white bloom in his hand.

You observed him closely, and when his gaze finally met yours, you offered a reassuring smile. “Remember, Coryo,” you murmured, “no matter what, you'll be the mentor she needs; your sincerity and kindness will shine through.”

“I hope you're right, Y/N,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. “I need her to survive on the arena as long as she can,” he added, as if the idea of a group of vulnerable youths engaging in brutal competition in just a few days were the most ordinary occurrence in the world.

But that was precisely what it represented for the Capitol residents – the Hunger Games, an annual spectacle of entertainment.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly under the unrelenting sun, and the station remained eerily devoid of any signs of life. It felt as though hours had passed, but in truth, you couldn't be sure. Beads of perspiration formed on your brows, and you could feel the heat radiating from the platform's surface.

You and Coriolanus were on the verge of giving up and returning to the cool embrace of your penthouses when, at long last, the distant rumble of an oncoming train reached your ears. The sound grew steadily louder, and you looked at each other, exchanging tired glances.

Coriolanus's grip on the white rose tightened as he turned his gaze towards the approaching train. As he rose from the bench where you had sat, his anticipation peaked. You stood beside him, wanting to be his support, but you had no idea that your role was about to change very soon.

The train pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and the screech of brakes, billowing clouds of moisture and smoke into the scorching air. The two of you watched the machine in silent, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the moment when you would come face to face with people from the Districts, individuals whose lives were so far removed from the opulence and extravagance of your own. It was a rare and humbling experience, one that left you with a slight quiver in your step as you clung to Coriolanus, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.

For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. The train's doors remained sealed shut, as if holding its cargo of tributes in a reluctant embrace. The only thing that reached you was an unpleasant stench wafting from the carriages, a stark reminder of the grim reality that these young souls were about to face.

Finally the impatient peacekeepers took matters into their own hands. They descended upon the train, their authoritative presence enough to scare the tributes out of their temporary sanctuary. One by one, they were herded onto the platform, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance.

And then, your eyes locked onto a figure unlike the others. A girl stood there, her presence a stark contrast to the muted palettes of others tributes. She wore a rainbow-colored dress that shimmered with vibrancy, a flare of color and individuality amidst the sea of old attire. You recognized her immediately from the television screens, a girl whose name had already become a part of your daily life even before this encounter.

Lucy Gray Baird.

The very name whispered in the hushed tones of Capitol citizens as they watched her on the screens, intrigued and fascinated by her enigmatic presence from the Reaping. Her gaze swept across the platform, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked onto each other's.

You couldn't help but break into a warm, welcoming smile. With a cheerful wave of your hand, you signaled to her that both you and Coriolanus were eagerly awaiting her arrival, hoping to ease the initial tension of this life-altering moment.

Lucy Gray's response was a hesitant yet appreciative smile in return. Her steps were slow and cautious as she walked slowly toward you, a palpable sense of curiosity radiated from her, her eyes flitting between the unfamiliar faces that lined the platform.

Your gaze briefly shifted to Coriolanus, a subtle expectation in your heart that his eyes would mirror the warmth you felt. But when you looked at him, you noticed something different. It was as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to Lucy Gray, locked onto her with a nearly unwavering intensity that bordered on fixation. Those eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held an expression you had never quite seen before. It was as though he had stumbled upon a priceless museum exhibit, left captivated, awestruck, and undeniably intrigued.

A soft, knowing smile played at the corners of your lips, silently acknowledging his reaction to the girl before you. You gently squeezed his hand, a gesture of affection and solidarity. You understood that this moment bore immense significance for him, that he was on the corner of a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. Lucy Gray was the keynote of this new chapter in his life, and you couldn't help but admire her from a distance, captivated by her unique presence and the aura that surrounded her.

Before you could utter a word, Coriolanus took a determined step forward, his eyes still locked on the girl. He extended his hand, offering her the pristine white rose he had clutched throughout the wait and with a subtle nod, he greeted her in a tone that resonated with formality and welcome.

“Welcome to the Capitol.”

part two »

#do you hear that? it's the sound of snow falling #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games headcanon #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #10th hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow scenario #established relationship #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games headcanon #hunger games x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #x reader #x y/n

[kremlin]

@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

#posts i will be deleting

[drvscarlett]

Let Him Cook Pt 6

Charles Leclerc x Masterchef! Reader

Let Him Cook Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A/N: Thank you for that anon who gave me a message for the next part of the series. This one is dedicated for you!

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams@barcelonaloverf1life@ririyulife@minseok-smaus@mehrmonga@sltwins@charlesgirl16@six-call@spideybv28@casperlikej@weekendlusting@janeholt3 @evie-119@leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13@itsjustkhaos

Cookies and Grand Prix

Y/NCooks just posted a photo.

Y/NCooks Now that my masterchef duties are done. Its my first time going to a grand prix as Charles' girlfriend. I hope you like cookies

User1 OMG IM GOING TOMORROW!!! OMYGODDDDD

Y/NCooks I'll give you a cookie when I see you! User1 Ohmygod, this is the best. You are the best!

User3 I'm envious of everyone going to Monza this year, Y/N is giving out cookies

User4 The details are everything on those cookies

CarlosSainz55 Im technically a former ferrari driver so can I claim a cookie?

LoganSargeant can i have one too? Y/NCooks this is for everyone!! Make sure to drop by Carlos and Logan! Maxverstappen1 Expect me around! User5 Everybody is a ferrari fan!

"Okay mon amour, so there will be a big crowd when we arrive" Charles briefed you as you get closer to the venue "Make sure to stick close to me."

"Yes honey, I know. Hold your hand and don't let go"

Charles has been extremely stressed and he thinks it might not be a good idea to bring you to Monza for your first GP as a couple. However, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. You have seen how the people cheered for Charles when he won in Monza, the crowd was electrifying. You wonder what will happen if it happens again this weekend.

Besides, you have a basket full of cookies that you prepared to give for those fans of Charles that you will meet.

You were immediately greeted by a huge crowd calling out Charles name. It was no wonder that there was several security guards waiting at Charles' designated parking lot.

It was normal for Charles to stop to take photos and to sign some merch. What surprised the duo was that the fans were asking for Y/N and her cookies.

"We really waited for you guys so we can get some cookies" one of the avid Tifosi said

"I really hope the cookies give ferrari luck"you agreed.

There was a buzz in the paddock as you gave away several more cookies to the different fans you encountered. You managed to give Carlos and Logan since they were also waiting at the parking lot. You were so carried away talking to everyone that you didn't realize that you already ran out of cookies.

"Oh no, I didn't save cookies for your other friends" you concluded upon reaching the garage.

"That's okay mon amour, I'm sure they would understand that there is no more cookies" Charles assured.

And like a comical entrance, a man in full Red Bull gear enters the sea of red uniforms.

"What do you mean no more cookies?" Max asked "I did not just go through all the security details to not have cookies"

"Oops."

Grill the grid: eggs

It was a fairly easy challenge, the media team thought. They believe that there will be no harm to let the drivers cook since its just a simple hard-boiled egg.

There was a stove, a pot, 2 bottles of water, eggs, vinegar, salt, and pepper on the table. They also thought that it will be funny to put unnecessary spices and ingredients on the table so there is grated cheese, spring onions, cinnamon, carrots, and etc..

The drivers entered the room looking confused at the different set up of the Grill the Grid.

"We're giving people what they want, today were actually allowing the drivers to show off their cooking skills with this special episodes of grill the grid"

Charles is obviously happy. He was already raving about how there are different versions of eggs that he tried at home because of Y/N.

"I have already tried doing poached egg, soft-boiled eggs, french omelette, american ones" Charles enumerated "I think I'm the best at making scrambled eggs"

"Its just scrambled"

"There is a technique there" and Charles continued to ramble on the different techniques that he has used to achieve the perfect scrambled eggs.

On the other hand, Oscar is attempting to make a hard boiled egg. He admits to the camera that he did not have any experience of it but he definitely knows how it taste (obviously).

"So Oscar what is your game plan here?"

"Well, I'm planning to boil the water and I think I should add some vinegar and then maybe sugar and salt so the egg will be flavored" Oscar stopped as he heard the giggling on set "Wait am I wrong?"

"No, no, just continue"

"Okay so I think I'm gonna let the eggs cook once the water is rolling then I'm gonna wait for 15-18 minutes because I don't wanna serve raw eggs" Oscar continued.

The staffs are a bit shocked by the length of time. It was beyond overcooked but they wouldn't say anything to the Australian driver.

It cuts to Max who seems to be pretty confident with his skill. Its a simple egg, how hard can it be?

"Of course, we have to get the water boiling and then I'm going to put it in for 5 minutes and then get the egg out" Max explained.

If Oscar has a long waiting time, Max was immediately dropping the egg even before the water is boiling because Max believes that the water is hot to the touch.

"What happened, why is the egg still runny?" Max wondered

He cut off the egg and there was still slimy white and the yolks were uncooked. There was a frown on his face as he looked back at his pot, he thinks he is being sabotaged.

"I'm gonna do it again"

Yuki was excited to do the cooking challenge. He insisted that he will not just make a hard boiled egg but he will also showcase a soft-boiled egg. The staffs were ecstatic to see him running around to get iced water for his eggs.

"I make these weekly so I'm really confident that it will turn out well"Yuki has a permanent grin as he fishes out his soft-boiled egg.

"If you want a soft-boiled egg, boiling water with the bubbles and then 8 minutes on the clock. Then you put it in an ice bath and then peel it" Yuki narrates.

He opens his soft boiled egg and it showcases a jammy yolk and soft whites, the perfect kind of soft-boiled eggs. The studio applauds at Yuki's efforts.

Y/NCooks just posted a photo

Y/NCooks since the episode is out, here is the list of photos sent to me by the crew. Guess which is which.

User2 OHMYGOD, THIS IS SO FUNNY!!!

User3 LOOK AT OSCAR'S REALLY OVERCOOKED EGGS

User6 i was seriously laughing when he said 18 to 20 minutes User7 For real, man thinks he is tenderizing meat

maxverstappen1 i demand a part 2

Charles_Leclerc "its so easy" maxverstappen1 shut up. i have been cooking now kellypiquet p is getting tired of eggs every morning user9 max is really serious to train himself on how to make eggs

User14 I just know that yuki is the one with the best looking egg, so smooth!!!

Y/Ncooks yes!!! User17 charles is the one with the unsmooth peeling Y/NCooks the man can't have it all, i guess

LandoNorris thank God they didn't send you my photo

Y/NCooks lando, i dont think anyone grabbed a photo since the fire department was called CarlosSainz55 you did what???? Charles_Leclerc and they call me as someone who can't cook when we have Lando here being a fire hazard LandoNorris Y/N THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR SECRET User22 atleast team papaya are both needing lessons.

The cookie prank.

Max was still upset that he didn't get to have cookies in Monza. He was really looking forward to it so he wasn't the least suspicious when he allowed Charles inside his home since he brought him cookies.

It was wrong of Max to put down his defenses.

"I'm gonna get some water, you want anything?" Max asked

"No, I'm just gonna get comfortable here with your cats"

Charles stood in front of the cat litter box and he pulled the ziplock bag that he has. Inside the ziplock bag was another set of cookies that looks like cat poops. He laughed quietly as he sets up the scene.

"Max, do you know about that coffee made from poop?" he asked the Dutchman

"Of course, Kopi Luwak" Max replied "Why did you ask?"

Max walked out of the kitchen and he can see clearly how Charles picked up a poop from the litter box. He almost dropped the water that he is holding upon seeing that.

"What if we use cat poop instead" Charles wondered

"CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The pure mortification in Max's face when Charles started eating the poop. It seems like his friend lost his mind after driving in Ferrari for all these years.

"You should try some"

"Y/N, CHARLES IS GOING CRAZY" Max immediately placed you on a call "I THINK HE NEEDS THERAPY"

"Woah slow down Max" you were out on a grocery run and now Max is screaming at your ear

"Hello mon amour"Charles greeted on the other line.

"HE LOST HIS MIND, HE STARTED EATING MY CAT'S POOPS"

You made a mental face palm as you remembered how Charles insisted that you make very realistic cookies that looks like poop. Charles never opened it to you that he will be using it to prank Max. You started laughing at the shock in Max's face.

"Max, those are cookies" you defended

"THEY ARE CAT POOPS, CHARLES LECLERC IS EATING CAT POOPS"

Oh what would you do with these boys.

#let him cook #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine

[allbark-no-bite]

Ignorance is Bliss || Coriolanus Snow x reader

summary: there’s something to love about the simplicity of boyhood. or in which there’s still good in Coriolanus and you love him

warnings: none really. this is just self-indulgent fluff. maybe slight mention of smut

word count: 1.3k

authors note: okay first of all ik everyone here spells it Coryo, but i much prefer Corio. the Hunger Games was the first ever fandom that i wrote for nearly 8 years ago (please don’t read my wattpad) and i’m so excited to have an up to date fic posted on here! the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes revived my love for the series and i hope you all enjoy :)

The sky shifts from a faint blue to yellow with the approaching evening light. In just a few minutes the swarms of awakening insects will be almost too much to bear. He swallows, and the combination of his dry mouth and the lack of humidity makes it feel as though his throat sticks together with the action. Being so deep in the forest, away from the rest of civilization, the air out here is so fresh that just breathing it is dizzying.

By now he's so used to the polluted air of District 12 that this sort of clarity is a startling but welcomed reprieve. In the Capitol, he'd grown up hearing stories of the miners in 12 who would eventually succumb to the horrific fate of suffocation, their lungs black from years of inhaling coal dust. Even after just a few months of being assigned as a peacekeeper to the district, the undersides of his fingernails had turned permanently black with the dust.

The games are far from his mind these days—at least most of the time they are. He has done his best to put those horrors in the past. He is no longer a Capitol student, fighting to prove that he belongs there in his hand me down shoes and shirts with buttons made of bathroom tile. Those days now seem like an entirely different lifetime.

His heart rate slows to the point that his chest hardly rises, and his only sign of consciousness is the occasional flicker of his eyes as he fights to keep from dozing off. He lies there watching the sky and counts the hours until the sun is swallowed by the horizon.

It's considerably quiet save for the breeze moving through the leaves of the trees overhead and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot of a forest animal. Five more minutes and he'll get up.

Movement at his side makes him grunt. It's not much, just a shifting of weight, but it still forces a puff of air out of him. Underneath the cream undershirt of his uniform is a mess of slowly healing, raw pink flesh. His body still hurts from weeks ago.

The district boy's spear had stabbed straight through  the muscle of his shoulder and was rapidly on the mend thanks to Dr. Gaul. The burns on his back were healing on their own accord, albeit slower than he would have liked. All things considering, his wounds had been relatively insignificant.

He had seen tributes sustain much worse things in the games before. He'd take a couple of burns over a severed head any day.

This time the weight lifts almost completely from crevice of his side and his attention shifts to the body beside him. You'd been curled up, asleep at his side the the better part of an hour.

"Where are you—" His question is cut off as your weight returns, this time into the pit of his stomach, curling up against the curve of his lean body. It half knocks the breath out of him. You have the tendency to do that to him.

With your cheek pressed into his gut, your hand reaches out for his own and he willingly complies, linking his slender fingers with your own. Perhaps you don't realize it but this is the same way he first touched you, hand in hand back in the zoo, and it will always mean more than anything to him. It is this thought that causes him to bring your wrist to his mouth and press his lips against it.

His mouth is warm against your skin, and even if you don't know exactly where the gesture of affection came from, you reciprocate it with the same tenderness.

"What are you thinking about?" You finally ask, breaking a long hour of comfortable silence.

You.

Rather than answering, Coriolanus hums in acknowledgment of your question. "Corio—" At the same time, he swings his leg over your hip, switching positions so that his body is hovering above your own.

"Hi."

You grin, fingers grabbing hold of the cool metal of his dog tags that hang down from his neck.

"Hi."

Looking pleased with himself, he dips his head down, capturing your lips with his own. You were his, and he was constantly refiguring that out.

The kiss is sweet, tamer than what you're used to from him. Not that he's ever been unpleasant, you adored Coriolanus and just about everything about him. But he was a man. A boy growing into a man and that came it, its own boyish tendencies. Regardless, rarely ever did you discourage his wandering hands.

You can't help but smile at the feel of his lean, brawny body pressed against yours. He'd been thin with hunger back at the Capitol. His time in District 12 training as a peacekeeper had done him well. Not only had he become sturdier with muscle, but somehow taller too. One of his legs is wedged between your own, and through his trousers you can feel him, half hard with interest.

Coriolanus pulls away from the kiss at the feel of your lips pulled into a smile. His brows furrow together in confusion, but your smile is infectious and soon enough his own frown is tilted upwards. "What? What are you smiling about?"

You attempt to subdue your grin at his inquiry, but it's to little avail, and that only drives his insistence. "(Y/n). What've I done?"

"Nothing," you laugh, a palm coming up to cup the side of his jaw so that your thumb can smooth over the sharp protrusion of his cheekbone. Normally the action would be enough to distract him, but he's persistent.

"(Y/n)."

“Really, it's nothing," you insist. "I just... I love you." That is what you settle on. I love you.

You love the naivety in which he is able to love. Pure and untainted by heartbreak. Too young to know much at all. Even too inexperienced to realize that there were more ways to satisfy his desire for you than just kissing. His body wanted you in the way that a man wanted a woman, and while he surely felt the effects of that attraction, his pure intentions had yet to stray.

Coriolanus' clear blue eyes narrow in slight skepticism but he doesn't press you any further. "I love you too," he says, lifting his hand to slip his fingers into your hair and massage at the base of your scalp. At the same time, his thumb presses up into your jaw, tilting your chin upwards so that he can kiss you again.

This time you indulge him further and kiss him back a bit more forcefully than before. Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair, and like a cat preening under the attention, his body reacts in tandem. He half snorts in amusement at your reciprocation but doesn't comment, too pleased to pull away long enough to taunt you.

Coriolanus takes it upon himself to deepen the kiss, the force of his lips upon yours not yet bruising but certainly heading there. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring the taste of your mouth. At the same time, one of his slender hands slides down your side, his fingers grasping at the curve of your hip.

The day will come that his desires get the best of him, and he’ll want more of you. Frivolous things such as the wrestling and the making out that the two of you do now won’t satisfy him later. And while the thought doesn’t bother you, it’s nice what you have with him now. It’s so simple and so easy to love him and his still boyish self now. The time will come eventually, and that’s okay. You’ve got a lifetime together after all.

#coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games

[paperclipninja]

Middle of the night GO thoughts after reflecting on a couple of comments that the 'you're being silly' scene is actually not just the adorable soft exchange I have been caught up in. I mean it is, but it also isn't.

And it got me thinking that the whole of season 2 is like this, almost the entire time we have two truths in play. The whole season is one of duality.

A few examples (there are many more woven throughout but just to illustrate the point):

Right off the bat, the opening scene, it's both ominous and hopeful. Aziraphale is restrained while angel Crowley full of abandon; one angel is aware of the danger of questioning, the other is naïve. Both are experiencing the same moment in rather different ways. It sets the tone of the season immediately and puts in motion this layered truth within the story.

The minisode with wee Morag and Elspeth, the entire graverobbing premise presents us with the dual truth that digging up the dead is bad but the selling of the bodies to the surgeon, thus contributing to saving lives, is good.

Aziraphale grapples with the duality here, justifying the actions of Elspeth by convincing himself that one truth is greater than the other. We also see that Crowley is far more able to recognise the complexity of multiple truths being valid depending on circumstance. This whole minisode feels like Neil showing his hand a little bit, the duality is so explicitly addressed, meanwhile we, the audience, are engaged in a larger unfolding story in which we are observing similar layered truths playing out in different ways.

Now the scene that made this whole thought process unravel, still one of my favourite scenes and will remain so, is the "smitten, I believe...you're being silly" exchange. It is both tender and awful.

Here we have Crowley, expressing his very real fear of JimGabriel, opening up to Aziraphale that he doesn't feel safe in the bookshop because of the constant fear he will wake up, and Aziraphale just looks at him with heart eyes and tells him he's being silly. This flags so loudly that we're watching two characters who are experiencing very different versions of their current reality, due to past experience, yes, but also, Aziraphale and Crowley each have their own idea about the right way to react to the current situation.

It's been pointed out by many before me, but the ball is another example of incredible juxtaposition and an extraordinary display of two truths existing at once. It is both incredibly romantic and an actual nightmare.

It is reflected, once again, in the way Aziraphale and Crowley are experiencing it, we know one character is caught up in the romance, the other in the horror show, but as a viewer, we are being tasked with holding both truths in our mind simultaneously. And both are true.

Aziraphale the entire season is both giddy in love and completely dismissive of Crowley. It is adorable and infuriating at the same time.

And yes, it is a reflection of the very duality the entire premise of Good Omens presents us with - that something can be good and bad at the same time, pure and corrupt, that the entire binary of Heaven and Hell/good and evil is flawed because those concepts can and do co-exist.

But the way it is seen in the interactions on a personal level this season is what has leapt out at me. It's why I think we see people falling into different interpretations of a lot of the scenes and moments, because they are more than that, they are observations. We are often observing two sides of the same coin, and both are true. The sheer genius of it and the way it is a mirror to the characters and the entire concept of the show we are observing is, quite frankly, mind boggling.

And it all comes to a head in the final fifteen™. There is so much duality in play here that it is no wonder there are hundreds of posts untangling bits of it and trying to extract the meaning from within the many layers. It's because we are given two truths in this final scene that are both heartbreaking.

Crowley loves Aziraphale and wants them to be together, free at last. Aziraphale loves Crowley and wants them to be together, free at last.

BUT

Aziraphale wants to use the system to keep them both safe. Crowley wants to escape the system to keep them both safe.

And then all the moments of duality between them throughout the season reach a critical juncture: Aziraphale in love but dismissive, Crowley understanding that Heaven = good is too simplistic and trying to compel Aziraphale to remember the lesson from Edinburgh ("when Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it"), Crowley trying to use the notion of romance to counter the nightmare with a desperate kiss.

It's a complete inversion of those two truths in the opening scene of the season, the entire scene is at the same time ominous and hopeful, but it is Aziraphale who largely being naïve and Crowley who is aware of the danger.

I mean, it was all spelled out for us really, this duality and the fact that those multiple truths in play were always going to come to a head. It was all there, wrapped up in this quote:

"What does your exactly mean, exactly? I feel like your exactly and my exactly are different exactlies".

#good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #honestly don't know if this even makes sense #middle of the night thoughts and all that #good omens thoughts

[we-stan-cale]

Since I've talked about almost all the other important parts during my reread, I didn't want to forget the sealed god's test.

It's just... So good I'm not even sure where to start. Like, this is a moment where Cale really shines.

Cale. Rok Soo, which we're told means 'to always grow green, even in winter'.

And we see that in this test.

The sealed god throws him into one of the worst moments of his life, expressly to make him despair.

Instead, Cale takes that moment and uses it to rewrite the past, and erase all his regrets.

This is where we really get to see what post-apocalyptic Korea was like. And over and over again we learn how badly things went then, even as Cale makes sure it doesn't happen like that again.

We also see some of his years of experience, and maturity. Especially with how he handles Park Jin Tae, who was a bully and a tyrant - and also died in Cale's first life, fighting to save everyone in the shelter.

You can see what we've seen all along. Cale doesn't judge leaders by the petty stuff. He judges them on how well they take care of their people.

This is also where Cale, Choi Han, and Alberu really become an amazing trio.

Choi Han, who bargains a large chunk of his life away (just the time he'd be alone, as he ties the length of his life to Raons) in order to join Cale in his test.

And Alberu, who the Sun God helps possess a monster called the Dark Tiger when his real body is sleeping.

Those three are so tight knit now, it's beautiful. Real ride or die friends.

Especially when you remember where they all started.

It's also, as always, a time where you have to pay attention to the subtleties. This is Cale's past, and he's focused on making sure everyone survives... But Choi Han and especially Alberu can see the desperation, the struggle, and the near starvation of all the survivors. Alberu has a couple of moments when he's out of the test and giving updates to their friends, and you see him struggling. Because Cale asked him not to overly stress them (the kids especially) and basically say it's fine... And Alberu's like 'how can I tell them that?!?'

And then, naturally, there's Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk.

Younger versions, and not the ones Cale knew. But still, we get to learn more about his earlier found family.

We also see things going on back at home. Since his physical body is still there, his friends have to rescue him.

And we see how they're able to perform, even without Cale to call the shots.

We especially see how well Raon has grown, as he makes important decisions on how to find the monster statues.

Even more importantly, we have this at the end.

– Do you really think that this moment is the end of despair? Cale looked down at the rose gold lights burning in his hands. He opened his mouth to speak. ‘Is this moment the end of despair? No. Absolutely not.’ “This is just the beginning of the despair in this world.” It was just the beginning. Despair would reveal itself in many different forms in this world from now on. “But people have hope now.” After about a year since the world had turned into a mess… The people who had always lost, struggled, and barely managed to survive will be victorious for the first time. They would destroy this despair known as an unranked monster. The sealed god who had been silent for a moment asked as if he was sneering at Cale. – Do you have hope as well? It seemed to be implying that Cale was someone who could not have hope. That was how it sounded to Cale. Cale slowly shook his head. “No.” He did not have hope. However… “I have certainty.” Cale needed something more certain than hope. Finally, he had gotten it. “This place will draw a different future than my past. I’m certain of it.” He was certain that more people would survive than in his past. He was certain that they would have better lives. That was not speculation. Although it was a future that was yet to come, Cale believed it to be the truth. In fact, Cale wanted to be the one to finish the first step toward that certainty. The burning rose gold thunderbolts moved away from Cale’s hands. He started to speak again. “This is the first time I’m saying this to a god.” Toward the silent sealed god… To the god who had tried to give him despair… Cale said the following. “Thanks.” He really meant it. “My memories didn’t end in despair thanks to you.”

It's not that he defeated despair. That despair will no longer exist.

But there's hope, and he is certain that the future will be better.

And even more so - he is grateful that he had this chance to change his memories.

He took this thing that was supposed to break him, and used it to fix himself instead.

#tcf #lcf #cale henituse #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #sealed god's test

[libraford]

Okay so here's the rundown of everything that happened with the radio station because omg is it some drama.

In the 90's, there were a lot more independently-run radio stations. There wasn't IHeartRadio and there wasn't SiriusFM or JackFM. A dude could just have a radio station frequency and start a radio station as long as they complied with FCC regulations. And one of these radio stations in Columbus was an alternative station called CD101.

That frequency was sold to a classical station, which is fine because the exchange was friendly. And then the station moved to a different frequency, CD102.5.

So I know it may seem like radio DJ's are just weirdos with microphones and that's just not true- they are TALENTED weirdos with a microphone. You have to be personable, you have to know about the music you're playing, you have to be enthusiastic. And this station was pretty good about programming- they played local music, they played deep cuts, they played weird shit. There were programs for oddball and punk and goth music. They ran charities, they were at local festivals, they were in parades. Their radio station even had a small concert venue attached to it and they would invite visiting musicians to play. Like it really was about community.

But.

Radio stations are expensive, and they get more expensive every year, and in 2020 they were unable to renew their FCC license.

And then a couple months later, they were back again under CD 92.9. A radio station rented out the frequency to them and they were able to get back on the air. It was like nothing ever happened.

I'm not going to know what happened between the owner the frequency (Mark) and the owner of the station (Randy) because there's a lot of people talking about Mark overcharging on rent and Randy being late or short on payments.

An agreement was drawn up to have Randy buy the frequency over a period of (I think) 5 years. But the price was high and the terms of termination were brutal (if he was even one day late on a payment, it constituted termination of the contract). And Randy found those terms to be unreasonable.

So, they announced that the radio station would be going off the air February 1, 2024. And we're all pretty upset! Like, not to be like 'this station saved my life,' but this was a pretty consistent source of event news for me and its how I learned about a lot of concerts and artists. They played one of my friend's bands pretty often and its like 'hell yeah, I know that flutist!'

The DJs of CD92.9 said their good-byes on Facebook.

Meanwhile...

The new DJ of the new station announced that it was always his destiny run the station, and that the new station would be More local music, More deep cuts, More weird shit- and No Billie Eilish. "Out with the old, in with the new."

On one of the old DJ's good-bye posts, the new DJ tried to recruit him to the new station.

"Really? You're trying to poach me on my good-bye post?"

Mark makes a statement that the station will be committed to 'continuing the legacy of CD92.9' and will be using the same programming, the same music, the same DJ's.

Randy says 'the fuck it will, that wasn't the deal' and files a C&D. The DJ's are allowed to work for the new station if they so please, but the new station is not going to inherit shit. They cannot use the same programming, their staff, or any of the thousands of recordings they've use in the past 30 years. Any branding or attempt to brand as similar to CD92.9 is a breach of contract.

A facebook group formed around the support of CD 92.9. How to help, how to get their online stream onto your phone, upcoming events, sponsors to support, and a healthy amount of bitching. Admittedly, some of the posts were REAL stretches- like... I'm sorry darling, I know you want it to happen, but you are NOT going to get them on copyright infringement because their red X logo looks kind of like a similar red X logo from a radio station in Milwaukee.

CD92.9 goes down, 93X goes up.

He does play some more uncommon music, sure. But he doesn't announce who the artist is so its kind of like... what's the point in that? If you just play a local band, but we don't know who the local band is, how are we going to go to their concerts? He'd also talk smack about some bands and its like... don't? You're a public face now.

And then there's the radio edits, which he chose not to play on occasion, so the radio was full of f-bombs. FCC violation.

And as a DJ, simply not charismatic. Like I realize he's not Blorbo from my radio, but like I said- DJing is a skill.

So I just didn't listen. It wasn't worth my time to try. I found a different, less cool station to listen to in the car and I listened to the stream at home.

The mood of the facebook group shifted more towards support for the sponsors, events planned around 92.9, news about who is leaving and who is staying and we just kind of let 93X exist.

The promise of 'no Billie Eilish' fell through pretty quickly. Their music selection dropped to the usual 'alternative music' packet of Imagine Dragons and Twenty-One Pilots. And eventually...

They went off the air. After one month of airtime, it is now an oldies station.

93X DJ said 'well, congratulations you got what you wanted.' Which is half right. We wanted them to tank and our old station to succeed. We're still hopeful about the second part.

The Dispatch ran an article about the short-lived station. Ends with:

So just for like... summary-

Ya'll took over the station with a committed listener base, claimed that you'd be just continuing business as usual, tried to poach their talent, hired someone with no problem talking shit, and when your station failed...

... you want to blame a Facebook Group?

Are you a child?

Anyways, if you'd like to hear an alternative rock station in Columbus that's just doing their best, here's a link to the stream!

[kookygobbledygook]

Some people have been saying this, but I don't think it's been said enough and I'm just going to add my voice to the mix.

Nimona's nomination is being framed as an example of "Look at what Disney missed out on!" and I get it. It's a nice, tasty schadenfreude situation and we all like to see The Mouse get taken down a peg.

But I think we need to be very clear; Disney did not miss out on anything because they were never going to take that sort of risk.

Disney was never going to release anything close to the Nimona we got. It would have been sanded down until anything obviously queer or controversial was as faint and unnoticeable as possible by the casual viewer. And then they would still be too scared of any potential backlash. So they would have given the film a limited release at theatres, with no advertising, or social media or support.

Like what happened with Strange World.

You remember Strange World, right?

No?

That's because no one does.

And I believe that was deliberate, because that way Disney can go "Weeellll... obviously we would LOVEto take more risks and have more inclusive stories but that's clearly not what the public wants!"

Look at the original concepts for Wish. The evil royal couple? The peter-panesque star boy that would have made the gen zers go feral the same way millenials went feral for Jack Frost? These could have been the best things about the movie, and even they were scrapped, and replaced with something more homogenised. And those ideas are nowhere near the level of the concepts and discussions Nimona brought to the table.

Disney can barely have explicit gay people. Nimona has a gay south Asian man in a relationship with an east Asian man. As a protagonist! But more than that, you think Disney could ever come up with a relationship as complicated and difficult as Boldheart and Goldenloin's? They would never have the guts to show one love interest cutting off the other's arm in a straight relationship. Let alone a gay one! And then for them to be on opposite sides of the conflict, shifting between feelings of betrayal, and questioning each other motives? That's some adult dark shit for a kids film.

Asha as a character was forced into the quirky girl role that Disney has already flogged to death with Anna and Rapunzel. You ever think they would allow a Disney princess to be as dark and violent and nuanced as Nimona? You ever picture the titial character of a Disney film AS the third act conflict, rampaging through a city in a self destructive rage? Nimona is anti authoritarian, vengeful, bloodthirsty, a pretty explicit trans allegory, and even, by the climax, openly suicidal. You KNOW that terrified Disney.

I had a thing about the Director here too but I was shocked by how long that got so I'll have to save her for a different post.

My point is the things that make Nimona art, that make Nimona a great story, that make the film important and Oscar worthy, are all things that Disney has become too chicken shit to produce. If Disney had released a film called Nimona it wouldn't have been Nimona. I fully believe that if the film hadn't had been 90% finished it wouldn't have been shelved. It would have been lobotomised and vivisected. Everything special and vital about the movie and its message would have been removed, and no one would have known what could have been. Once again we would have gotten scraps and been thankful for them.

It makes me think about films like Wish (and others we don't know the name of, and never will) and think of what they could have been if studio's like Disney were braver and let their artists make art, instead of content.

tl;dr Disney didn't miss out on Nimona because they are incapable of making Nimona. If they had produced it the real Nimona wouldn't exist. We didn't miss out on Nimona. And that's purely by luck.

#nimona #disney critical #wish critical

[akunya]

“companionship.”

pairings: android!hex haywire x m!reader

summary: can a robot and human fall in love?

tw: HYPNOSIS, NONCON, manipulation, yandere, etc. robot sex, voice fetish, onahole, voyeurism. size difference, belly bulging, etc.

notes: i love this cliche au of sex robots and things like that, so here’s my take on it.. with hex.

it’s probably terrible and i guess caters a certain niche, but let me know what you guys think.

today was it - the day you’ve been waiting for! finally, after all your hard work throughout the year, you saved enough money to buy your own, state of the art, artificial intelligence assistant.

and, luckily for you, today was also the grand debut of a brand new line of androids: xsoliel.

your hands were as shaky as ever waiting in line at the mall, double checking your savings to assure yourself you weren’t dreaming. nijisanji’s new line of androids were practically everything anyone could ask for: equipped with unique and interesting designs and personalities for each member, xsoliel offered a variety of services: whether it was for your own selfish pleasure or to help with manual labor, there was surely somebody for you.

..or so, that’s how the commercial sounded anyways. you silently thanked humankind for blessing the world with this era of companion-droids. seeing the ad nearly a year ago, you were star struck at the first all-male line nijisanji had debuted: luxiem.

unfortunately, they were sold out and only resold at steep prices— but, a few lucky online bloggers raved about their features, endless posts about how amazing it was to have an assistant of your own. while they could’ve surely been exaggerating, ever since that moment, you put money aside each week, even taking on extra jobs to make a little more cash to achieve your dream.

and it was finally time to reap your benefits.

while you didn’t know much about xsoliel nor intended to coincidentally buy an android of your own on the day of their newest launch, that didn’t stop you from checking them out. reading the blurbs about each member peaked your curiosity even higher. “a delinquent? people really think of anything these days, huh?” chuckling, you let yourself playfully criticize each member. you quickly bit your tongue, thoughts coming to a halt after reading about a certain individual.

“..what kind of name is hex?” muttering to yourself, you couldn’t hide the faint blush on your face as you stared at the model inside of the store. sleek attire, it almost made him look like a professor than a robot. paired with optional glasses (why did he even need those? can’t he see perfectly?), hex’s design made your heart flutter. his official advertisement described him as a nurturing, gentle servant, perfect for new customers to start off with. illustrated to have a deep, nearly hypnotic voice, hex’s programming was assured to have his users satisfied and satiated with their purchase.

swiping your card at the checkout, you really hoped you made the right choice, signing off a couple waivers and documents the employee had given you.

just a week later, you realized you didn’t regret your decision at all.

living with an ai assistant could only be described as luxury. hex truly was made with a “newbie” owner in mind, and the way he spoke to you sometimes made you wonder who was really in charge. his sweet, charming voice, along with how gentle and kind he was towards you, lifted your spirits instantly.

for instance, hex was a wonderful outlet to talk to when things went wrong — and, as if it was magic, nearly every problem you spoke about washed away the next morning! your problems with coworkers quickly diminished, and you even got the raise you’ve been praying for months now. he’d always offer such delicate touches, hugs and shoulder massages when he notices you’re pent up from a long day. you couldn’t fight off the dreamy, floaty headspace you were in when he was around.

not to mention, hex even did some of the chores while you were at work without being told to. even though you felt too guilty to ask him to clean the house, he didn’t seem to mind, making sure you came home to a clean room and nicely folded laundry each day. hell, he even told you he was looking into cooking, something that wasn’t originally included in his list of abilities. hex seemed to go above and beyond for you each time, amazing you each day.

it was a normal friday night, and you were with him as you always were, spending most of your time with the robot.

“y/n, why don’t you ever want to use me for something else..?” the question made your face feel warm, hairs standing on the edge. you two were cleaning up the kitchen after preparing dinner. laughing awkwardly, you tried to shrug off his curiosity, shining a plate with a dish towel. “well, id never want to force you to do something you didn’t like, silly.”

hex’s brow furrowed, a hint of anger resting beneath the surface. who said i didn’t want to?” for an android , the way he spoke was jarringly natural. your eyes widened in surprise, speechless for a moment. hex talked so nonchalantly about sex, but you had to remind yourself he was still a robot after all. as human as his synthetic skin and olive eyes may look, he lacks a beating heart and flesh.

“i-im not sure i want to. im just not interested in that type of stuff right now..” you let your voice trail off, sitting and washing in silence before hex spoke up dangerously close to your ear.

“you don’t have to lie, baby. i can hear you in the middle of the night when you touch yourself.” his deep voice made you shudder, unable to move. didnt you tell him to shut himself off during the nighttime? you were sure you ordered him not to snoop around, especially on nights that you planned to indulge in yourself. gulping, you laughed awkwardly as hex didn’t seem to budge.

“ah, s-sorry for disturbing you, ill try and keep it down next time..” his hand enveloped your own, forcing you to meet his gaze. goodness, his hands were big. warm, soft, inviting — strong, too. hex squeezed your hands, not bothering to stop when you winced from the pain, smiling. “you don’t have to keep it down. you should let me help you.” the way hex spoke was as if he was demanding you, not letting go until you gave him an answer. “it’s what i was.. made to do, anyways.” his voice was filled with solemn, playing with your heartstrings.

the silence was weighing on your thoughts, biting your lip in anticipation. hex knew how to make you uncomfortable, how to give into his desires and requests even when you didn’t want to — on the surface, at least. “alright, i will..! next time ill let you help me, okay?” you huffed, hex letting go of your hands and putting them on your shoulders instead. “good boy. you’re listening so well.” you hated how warm his praise made you feel.

the next night you needed help came sooner than you thought, shamefully letting hex in when he knocked on the door. the android wasted no time making himself comfortable in your space.

“a-ah, hex, slow down! please!” his hand was wrapped around your fleshlight, pumping vigorously as you squirmed in between his legs. your back was pressed against his chest, caged in the ai’s arms as he pleasured you. he caught you trying to use it to get yourself off, and figured he’d give it a try.

except, he failed to mention that his hands also had a vibrating feature. the soft yet firm jelly of the fleshlight practically whirred against your dick, making the experience all too elevating, groaning as hex held you in his arms. this has to be what those bloggers were raving about, right? hex held the toy at the tip of your cock, squeezing a bit to snap you out of your thoughts. you practically sobbed out, eyes tears from how good his touch felt on your skin.

“yknow, when you look so vulnerable like this, it makes me want to ravage you. who knew my master could be so slutty?” you whined at that, the ai chuckling deeply. you could truly stop him by force if you wanted to, considering you were technically his owner, but god did he make it hard. spreading your legs open so he could continue to jerk you off like the pathetic loser you always were. feeling another orgasm coming, your moans started to get louder, nails digging into hex’s synthetic skin.

“shh, goodness y/n. you’re going to wake up the neighbors if you keep moaning like a slut. hmm..” the man hummed to himself, shuffling around while you were distracted. “maybe i should give you something more, right?” before you knew it, his cock was circling your hole, causing you to panic.

“wait, h-hex! that’s too much, im already tired!” you tried to fight back, scrambling in his lap. his hands held up underneath your legs, holding you in place with his strength. of course he could overpower you — he was a robot, for gods sake. even though you were still painfully hard, you couldn’t imagine having sex with an ai of all things.

that is, until you felt something whirr against your ass.

oh.

of course, that part of him vibrates too. why wouldn’t it? as if hex couldn’t be too good at what he does already, it was as if his manufacturer wanted to overkill him with all these extra functions. hex laughed at your stillness, kissing the back of your neck. “i promise it feels good.”

he didnt bother giving you any warning either, nor waiting for an answer, slamming your hips down and shoving himself inside. even if his cock was lubricated, it still hurt like hell, making you cry out in pain. you’ve never felt so full before — just how big was he? you remember a conversation with the clerk at the store that day when you first bought hex. they had asked you about sizes.. but you thought they were just talking about his height, opting for the biggest size they had available. what an idiot. no wonder the clerk blushed a bit at your response.

slowly, hex rolled his hips against yours, his dick stretching you out against your will. “i always imagined us like this, baby. id take care of you, and you’d.. well, take it.” hex smiled, groaning in your ear as his dick nearly stirred up your insides. your brain couldn’t think of anything to say in response, too full to retaliate against the androids firm grip.

“you look stupid, baby. can you feel me? riiight here? look at how well you’re taking me.” hex’s cool fingers pressed against your stomach, nudging the bulge from his cock and making you whine even louder. your poor little cock was like a fountain, leaking nonstop as his pace didn’t falter.

it felt as if you were the one helping him out in this position. the ai was unexpectedly loud in bed, moaning and whispering about how well behaved you were, and how he’ll spoil you like this everyday from now on. every day? could you even handle that? with how he was taking control, surely there was something wrong with his wiring. you started to think about how to return and maybe get someone to take a closer look at his hardware, before a painfully deep thrust snapped you out of your thoughts.

“o-oh!” you were embarrassed by the yelp you let out, your body trembling before finally releasing, soiling the sheets underneath you two. “it seems like you’re doing a lot of thinking today, y/n. what could possibly be on your mind other than me?” hex, amused, chuckled in response, kissing and licking the back of your neck. “good boy. that’s it, let it out. only think of me from now on, okay?” his voice felt so dreamy; so hypnotic.

“y-yes sir,” you managed to mutter our, much to hex’s chagrin. he didn’t need any recovery period since he wasn’t human, so the robot simply got back to milking you dry, pounding into your tight hole like an animal in heat.

you’d never find out that hex’s model was recalled for several malfunctions and viruses, he made sure of that.

how else would he give you everything so easily?

#male reader #mlm blog #male reader blog #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en x reader #my fics.. #hex haywire #hex haywire x reader #hex haywire x m!reader #hex haywire x male!reader #xsoliel x m!reader #xsoliel x male reader #xsoliel x reader

[kanmom51]

https://twitter.com/parkjmwins/status/1782358915939774874

Idk whether you will even answer this ask or will block me but this is exactly why JK had similar concept pics like Jimin. Jikookers made it to be romantic while Fandom made it to a joke 'JK always copy Jimin' (ofcourse). I've seen you making multiple posts about Jikook concept pics being match is a proof of them being a couple when in reality Hybe don't even take permission of original artist before using their ideas for another. One hybe label just got into trouble for copying newjeans and according to CEO min heejin it was BANG SHIHYUK who wanted to copy newjeans to create a second version of them through illit. And guess what he made sure illit gets 10x more success than newjeans, a 2 day song was already charting in different charts including hot 100. The same bang shihyuk who ignored every bit of Jimin's success but shamelessly copied his ideas and visions of concept pics for another favorite member. He shamelessly asks staffs to copy original ideas of artists who created them and use them for a cheap version of the said artist, Newjeans and Jimin are just examples.

Was it JK's fault ? Not necessarily but unlike rookie Illit he had power and capability to make his own decisions and use his own visions instead of doing what he was asked to do by the staff (his words) but he didn't and sat comfortably while using another person's hardwork. If you still think those similarities were because they were couple then idk what to say because in that logic Newjeans girls and Illit girls are dating.

Talk about TikTok generation ask.

Linking me to a tweet that has zero actual information and/or proper discussion, just stating a fact that isn't necessarily even a fact. Ignoring the full picture (like y'all do when it comes to Jikook as well, btw).

And I also find it so so funny how you are basically hanging your all on something that a very problematic figure within the Kpop industry is claiming, all to try and deflect from despicable behaviour she's being accused of, including using and revealing private info of Hybe idols obtained in illegal and despicable manors, perhaps including having to do with certain private info leaking of certain BTS members (including the one person that you so vehemently claim to love and stand in defense of).

You think that by sending me this link you are proving something?

You say that you read through my posts. Well, obviously you've missed those many posts I've written explaining how JM and JK being a couple can be deducted not from one action or one behaviour alone, but the combination of many many actions or behaviours. A puzzle built of not 10 or 50 or 100 pieces, but one built of so many many more.

I find it funny how with everything that has been going on with JM and JK you guys are still at this.

We're back to JK copying JM.

Like seriously.

Like even if the whole NJ Illit thing was true there was some kind of a comparison to be made with these two men.

Like JK, who's album concept is 180 degrees different than JM's doesn't have stylists at his beck and call to create a concept that isn't a full on copy of JM's. Right down to the studs and colours and minutiae details of some of the outfits.

Like if he did copy JM, that same scorned poor JM (that's how you guys love to portray him, as a damsel in distress awaiting you to swoop in and save him) CHOSE to fly to NY to be with JK and spend Silver day there with him, travel with him multiple times and spend his entire 18 months in the army with that awful copy cat JK.

Your ask tells me that you have zero understanding in human interactions and relationships. JM saying time and time again, JOKING time and time again, about JK copying him, it's a tease but also something that he LOVES. How he inspires JK, how JK perceives him as his catalyst.

But this here, the photo concepts and the whole of JK's wardrobe while promoting, claiming it's all about copying JM is just bull crap. This was planned. And it was planned by the two of them. It's not a coincidence that JM happens to wear the bottom part of a two piece outfit months before JK wears the top part of the same exact outfit.

And if we are talking about copying, is it the concept he's copying or is he so far gone that he's literally copying down to the smallest of details?

Like seriously. You think that's about copying JM?

Or because it worked for JM so he thinks it will work for him? Literally same hairstyle rocking as JM had in Face? Cause why not use a concept that works? Seriously? JK's all "I should do this cause it worked for JM so it will work for me"?

Was that what he was thinking when he rocked a highlight of JM's hair colour over the years? That the colour works for JM so I should have a strand of that colour in my hair as well, copying his success? Is that the theory you're working with?

Or when JK wore the same jacket as JM on Valentines day, you know, in a clip that JM himself records and uploads, that JK also copying JM?

Babe, this isn't just about the concept pics either. And it's not just about Face and Seven or Golden. Wearing the actual same black leather or leather-like pants just because he couldn't find any other pants? That level of copying? Or perhaps it wasn't about copying and more about mirroring.

About "You are me I am you", which they have been screaming at the top of their lungs for years now!!!

It amazes me how you have zero issue in taking an over decade long complex super close relationship (no matter how you perceive it they are super close) and simplifying it into "JK copied JM's concept because JM's concept worked for him", or to even compare whatever went on with JK and JM and those similarities to a claim made (by a disgruntled and caught red handed employee of Hybe) about one new GG copying concepts and whatever from a GG that's been around for 2 years now. No connection between them. No long term relationships between the groups. One group supposedly copying from another. Yeah, definitely the comparison needed to be made between that and Jikook's behaviours or decision making.

How infantile of you.

Oh and that paragraph of yours at the end. Laughable really.

Like I already said, go compare 2 GGs in two different companies to 2 men that have been close for over 10 years now. And let's also disregard the long history of those two doing the similar and same outfit (during official shoots, performances etc, or during their free time) thing and look at this one single concept.

Probably styled (funny how the styling seems to be similar for years now on many occasions, and just with the two of them)

Not styled.

These are just examples of MANY MORE instances.

Oh, and I suggest you go read this post too. Not mine, but recently written and oh so relevant to the conversation.

I can't help but wonder how different your pov would have been if one of those two young men was a female. Just thought I would throw that in here too.

But I gotta give you an A for persistence. You guys, you never give up, do you? No matter what JK and JM will throw at you, you will find a way to twist it around to fit your narratives. I guess you also think that JM was forced into enlistment with JK, ah? And their trips together and the content that will drop, also forced on him? I guess him saying otherwise isn't enough to convince you guys either, right? I love the way how you guys are so intrenched in your belief of victimhood that you don't even listen to what JM himself tells you. You love him so much that basically call him a liar. Good for yous I guess.

So, to clarify my answer to you, just in case it wasn't as clear as day already...

You do you, cause nothing I tell you, or show you, or you know what? Nothing that even JM himself will tell you or show you will satisfy you. Because you are living in a self built fantasy of what and who JM is and what and who those that surround him are, all to fit that narrative of yours in which he needs you guys as his saviours and knights in shining armour to swoop in and save him from the big bad JK.

One more thing.

JM's Face was a masterpiece.

We all agree on that. JK included.

He adores JM, he's his no. 1 fan and he's been showing us this throughout 2023.

JK is not a person that would callously copy a concept used by a bandmate just because it succeeded for his bandmate and might work for him too.

Let alone from JM.

His person.

Not even if, as you put it, he was told to do so by the powers at be (which yeah, he'd tell to go shove it up their asses if they ever did 'tell' him to do that btw, and they wouldn't do it anyway seeing that they know that would be his exact reaction).

So, no.

That is my answer to you.

Just a whole big fat NOPE.

No to copying. And surprisingly no to blocking you.

Yet.

#Jikook #kookmin #minkook #jungkook #jk #jimin #jm

[neoameba]

It is necessary to escape the routine sometimes!

F. Toji x Ftm! Reader

Warnings: This is a trans man/boy centered post, but you (fem, gn, and non-trans) can still safely interact with the post. Toji and reader were not a romantic couple before reader turned 18. It's more for comfort, made especially to give those silly smiles.

Summary: Naturally, every rich man needs a heir. And it’s obvious that it wouldn’t be any different for someone who works directly in the Japanese government. That’s where the problem lies. Being the vice president of a country and doing so much for the poorest and most needy people, while taking away unnecessary privileges from rich people, makes his head a target and his family as well.

When [Name] was born, his mother fell ill due to blood loss, and soon died from complications in the surgery that was supposed to save her (it is important to mention that, after her death, a bounty on the woman’s head was announced in the deepest areas of the internet, It is not known whether the mission was accepted). This generated extreme fear in the man and, as a result, he ended up becoming extremely protective of the inheritance that the woman in his life left for him.

All of this only got worse when [Name] revealed he was a trans boy at 15 years old. The reason why the vice president of Japan was even more scared (thankfully) is not because he is trans, but because of what people would do if he found out. Think about it, if people already wish the boy’s death just because he was his son, imagine if they found out that [Name] is a trans boy?

Of course, the man did the impossible to erase [Name’s] old image, to pass him off as a cis boy. Still, it’s difficult to stop the rumor from spreading.

That’s where Toji Fushiguro comes in.

It's curious to think that Toji, the sorcerer killer, could actually be tasked with protecting someone. But that’s exactly what happened, [Name]’s father actually put Toji as the boy’s bodyguard. And this went on for 6 years.

“Hey! Can you stop pulling me, I have legs and they are very functional!”

[Name] says, only to continue being pulled towards some place unknown to him thus far. He didn’t understand anything, and Toji didn’t want to explain what he was doing either.

Finally, the two stop in front of a house. It wasn’t ugly, it just looked like it wasn’t well looked after from the outside.

“Huh? Is this your house?”

“Yes, and I want to introduce you to my son... What was his name...?"

Toji says the last part quietly, but it still gets a low laugh from [Name], who thinks the older man was just joking. Even he knew Megumi's name because Toji said it himself. And after all, who would forget their own child’s name?

As soon as the tallest one opens the door to the house, [Name] is faced with a heart-wrenching sight. There was Toji Fushiguro’s son, eating snacks for breakfast in complete silence and alone, in na environment clearly not prepared for a child

As soon as [Name] sees this, a slap is landed on the head of the man next to him, who moans softly in pain. The slap was weak, but Toji didn’t want to be so mean and say he didn’t feel any pain from the impact.

“How dare you leave a poor little child in these unsanitary conditions?!”

“It’s not my fault if I have to spend the whole day with you. Besides, the kid knows his way around, you see?”

Megumi turns around, looking at his father with disinterest, but then looking at the boy next to him. This time, he seemed more interested, and got up to walk towards the boy.

“... You’re the guy he talks about so much, right? Cool. Nice to meet you.”

Little Fushiguro says, surprising [Name]. It’s a lot of education for just one child (especially for a child who is the son of a man like Toji).

“Nice to meet you too! You're very polite, right?"

When [Name] goes to shake the boy’s hand, he realizes that although it may not seem like it, Toji probably takes care of the boy, as he shows no signs of being thin beyond what is healthy.

"Tell me something, little Megumi...Does Toji take care of you or just leave you to your own devices?"

Megumi shakes [Name]'s hand, and shrugs, indicating that it was a little of both. Obviously Toji pays for food and a few other things, but Megumi is the one who cleans the house and already acts like an adult.

"I'm very busy, if you must know."

"That doesn't give you the right to leave him to his own devices."

"You're really just here to judge, ugh."

Before [Name] could counter argue, he chose to remain silent. He holds Megumi's hand and prepares to tidy up the house and make good, dignified food, since it seems unlikely that Megumi has eaten anything healthy these past few weeks.

"Megumi, let's tidy up this whole house. And you Toji, we'll talk about it later."

Toji seemed to be both unsatisfied and happy. Unsatisfied because he couldn't imagine being scolded like that, and happy to see his son and his boyfriend getting along so well. He sits on the couch as he watches the two boys tidy up the house (and no, he doesn't plan on helping).

And speaking of a boyfriend... He would never have imagined that he would date someone of the same gender as him. He never even considered being with a man, but destiny can always surprise. Everything has been so peaceful after he and [Name] started dating, he can just sit on a couch and watch a good television show while cuddling with his boyfriend. [Name] actually managed to get Toji over the loss of his wife, which is a miracle.

While he is absorbed in his own thoughts, Megumi and [Name] finish tidying everything up. This made for a good few hours, and by the end, both the youngest and oldest boy were dead tired. Megumi goes to his own room and throws himself on the bed, while [Name] throws himself into Toji's lap.

"... That was so tiring... You could have helped!"

"You didn't call me, I didn't think I needed to help with anything."

The man says, as he gently squeezes one of [Name]'s cheeks with his left hand, and with his right hand he squeezes his waist. The smell of cleaning products on [Name]'s clothes were incredibly good, and Toji didn't even remember buying them. He buries his face in the crook of the boy's neck, eliciting a laugh from [Name].

"Of course we needed your help! But it's okay, the food is up to you, go make it soon because your son is hungry. And try to take good care of him, unless you want me to slap you again."

[Name] says, as he gets off Toji's lap. He wanted Toji to make the food so that at least Megumi could eat something his father lovingly made. Well, he still doesn't know that Toji is terrible at cooking.

And everything goes like this. [Name] going to take a shower, only to almost faint when he felt big hands on his waist, Toji burning the food and [Name] having to redo everything together with Megumi, Megumi accidentally revealing that he likes watching Barbie movies, and in the end, everyone watching Barbie in the living room.

Sounds like a perfect day, don't you think?

#Spotify #jujutsu kaisen #male reader #jjk #ftm reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x male reader #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro

[tigertales9]

Hard Reset X

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut / Fluff

Description: This chapter takes us back to the city for the week 8 lead-up and win against the 49ers. There's also some Halloween night action.

Time/Place: Sunday, Oct. 22, 2023 - Wednesday, Nov. 1, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio (with a quick flashback to Levi's Stadium in Santa Clara, California)

A/N: This is the tenth fic in the Hard Reset series.

This chapter is a little longer and a little smuttier than I planned.

~ ~ I posted a sneak peek of this chapter, so if the first bit looks familiar, that's why. ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sunday, 10/22/23 (Cincinnati, Ohio)

You shimmy into a slinky white t-shirt that's barely long enough to hide your pink lace panties; you check your reflection in the mirror before clicking the bathroom light off and walking into the bedroom, your gaze taking in the delicious sight of your husband sprawled on the bed wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

You turn your bedside lamp down to its dimmest setting and slide into bed beside him, smiling when he rolls over onto his stomach, a sure sign that he wants his back scratched. "You tired?" you ask, rolling onto your side to face him before trailing your fingernails up and down the muscular expanse of his bare back.

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice muffled by his pillow. "It was a looong day."

"It was," you agree. "Sooo much football," you grumble playfully, laughing when he raises his head and gives you a look. "Sorry," you grin. "I know you love it, but several hours of nonstop football is kind of a lot."

"Good thing you and my mom spent a couple of those hours talking about how to decorate the lakehouse."

"That was fun," you giggle. "How many times did you almost refer to our bye week getaway as a honeymoon?"

"Several times," he admits.

"Me too. We gotta be careful or your parents will figure out we're married sooner than we want."

"For real."

"They were super surprised you bought the lakehouse. I think they were a little upset you didn't let them in on the secret, but they got over it pretty quick."

"They can't keep a secret for shit, and I wanted it to be a surprise for you."

"It was an amazing surprise," you sigh. "I still can't quite believe it." You push up into a sitting position and dig your fingers into his throwing shoulder, smiling when he hisses in pleasure. "You wanna massage?" you ask, straddling his waist when he gives you a muffled "yes, please."

You rub his neck and shoulders for several minutes before he breaks the silence.

"Watching all that football today got me hype. I can't wait to get back on the field."

"Your calf feeling good?"

"Yeah, as good as it's felt all season. I pushed it hard in my last few work-outs, and it responded well."

"Time to unleash hell," you tease, smiling at his gruff "damn right" followed by a groan as you slide a hand into his hair and lightly scratch your fingernails over his scalp.

You continue to scratch and rub him for a few more minutes before he speaks up.

"Do you feel different now that we're married?"

"Yes," you answer, after considering the question for a bit. "I was already fully committed to spending the rest of my life with you, but it feels different now that it's official, even if it's just our secret for now."

He starts to roll over onto his back, and you rise up on your knees to make it easier for him; he waits until you settle your weight back down on him before speaking.

"All the negative thoughts in my head are muted when I'm with you. That's always been true, but even more so now that we're married."

"I'm glad." You give him a smile before furrowing your brow. "Wait … what negative thoughts are you having?"

He takes a deep breath before answering. "Just worried about getting healthy in time to save the season. We've gotta come out swinging against the 49ers and the Bills. If we drop those two games, shit's gonna be bleak." He slides his eyes closed as he continues. "Also, I'm not loving the background noise."

"Background noise?"

"Overrated. Overpaid." He makes a stank face as he plows ahead. "I know what some folks are saying about me."

"You've been playing hurt all season!" you protest, your blood pressure rising as you lean forward and lock eyes with him. "And let me tell you something about those loudmouths spewing all that 'background noise' …"

"Babe?" he interrupts.

"Yeah?"

"I'm worried about saving the season, but the background noise doesn't really bother me. That kind of shit just fuels me to be better. I shouldn't have lumped the two together."

"Oh … okay." You roll your shoulders to relieve some tension, raising an eyebrow at his bemused look. "What?"

"You were about to unleash hell," he teases, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

"I get a little worked up when people shit-talk you, okay?" you chirp. "Most of those loudmouths hate you because you play for a rival team and/or because their woman wants to bang you. Simple as that." You give an emphatic nod as you finish your statement.

"Feel better now?" he asks, wrapping both hands around your thighs and giving a gentle squeeze.

"Yes. I needed to get that off my chest."

Y'all laugh together for a bit before you quiet down. You eventually drop your gaze from his face down to his broad shoulders and muscular chest, lingering there for a bit before moving farther south; you reach a hand out and ghost a fingertip over his blonde treasure trail, your eyes going wide when his flat stomach caves in under your touch.

"Did you just suck in your stomach?" you ask.

"Maybe," he mumbles, giving you a sheepish smile. "Dinner was so delicious that I ate more than I meant to."

"You worked out really hard yesterday and today. You deserved a little treat."

"I'm hoping to get another little treat tonight," he purrs, his hot gaze on your breasts causing your nipples to tighten under the flimsy fabric of your t-shirt.

"Is the door locked?" you ask, thinking about his parents sleeping downstairs.

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, his big hands immediately settling on your waist after you pull your t-shirt off and toss it on the floor.

"You want me to take charge since you're tired?" you offer, a small squeal escaping your lips when he easily flips you onto your back.

"Maybe for round two," he teases, holding eye contact with you as he kisses his way down your torso.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Monday, 10/23/23

You wake up abruptly the next morning, a shiver running through you as your nude body is exposed to the cool air; you turn your head and look at Joe, rolling your eyes when you see him wrapped up in the covers like a human burrito.

"Hey, wake up," you nudge him. "I'm freezing over here."

"Huh?" he mumbles, barely opening one eye to look at you.

"You stole all my covers," you grumble.

"Oh shit, sorry babe." He quickly unwraps himself and pulls you against him -- your back to his chest -- before tucking the covers around you. "Damn, you feel like an icicle," he hisses, throwing a leg over yours and rubbing a hand over you to help warm you up.

"No shit," you snark, trying and failing to sound stern. "My husband is a shameless cover hog."

"Sorry, wifey," he chuckles, dropping a kiss on your shoulder before pulling you tighter against him.

You give a content sigh as the heat radiating off of his big, nude body envelops you, your eyelids sliding closed as you drift off to sleep wrapped in his embrace.

~ ~ ~

The smell of coffee wakes you up just over an hour later. His parents are up, you think to yourself before slowly scooting forward a bit, trying to ease out of his grasp without waking him up.

"Where you going?" he mumbles, using one big hand on your waist to pull you back against him.

"Your parents are up."

"So?" he yawns. "They can entertain themselves for a while." His hand moves from your waist to your chest, his fingers teasing your nipples into stiff peaks as he presses kisses against your neck. You let out a low moan and bite your lip as he eventually slides his hand down to your crotch, his erection twitching against your butt as his fingers encounter your slick heat.

"We have to be really quiet," you whisper, whimpering when he slides a long finger inside you.

"Get on your knees for me," he orders, a little louder than you're comfortable with.

"Shhh," you scold as you do his bidding, burying your face in a pillow as he crawls between your thighs and tilts your hips up, your high-pitched whine muffled by the pillow as he slowly sinks his hard length inside you. He gives you a few seconds to adjust before pulling almost all the way out, pausing with just his tip inside before thrusting back in. You arch your back as he repeats the action, both of you moaning when the new angle causes him to bottom out. "Fuck," he grits out as your core clenches him, his thrusts coming faster and harder as you continue to whimper and moan into the pillow.

He eventually leans down and nestles his lips against your ear, giving your earlobe a suck while dropping a hand down to tease your clit. "The next time I fuck you hard like this, I wanna hear you scream," he growls, his deep voice causing a sizzle of heat to race down your spine. "Got it?"

"Yes, sir," you whine into your pillow.

"Louder!" he orders, pounding into you at the perfect angle to hit your sweet spot.

You lift your head up from the pillow. "Yes, sir!" you holler, much louder than intended; before you have time to be mortified that his parents probably heard you, he pinches your clit and bites your earlobe just hard enough to make you gasp, the sensory overload tipping you over the edge. You grind your face back into the pillow and moan his name as you come apart, your trembling thighs starting to collapse just as he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up; he continues to fuck you through your climax, telling you how good you feel as your walls rhythmically squeeze his thrusting cock, your name on his lips when he finally releases inside you.

Y'all spend several minutes catching your breath, both of you groaning when he finally pulls out of you and rolls over onto his back. You eventually roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. "Do you think your parents heard me holler?" you ask.

"Probably," he chuckles, laughing even harder when you swat his arm.

"It's your damn fault," you hiss. "Louder!" you mimic his deep voice.

"Relax, babe. I'm pretty sure they know we have sex."

"Well, duh, but they don't need to hear us having sex."

"Come here," he coaxes, pulling you toward him, giving you a pouty face when you push him away.

"Nope, you've caused enough trouble this morning," you grump, rolling your eyes when he sticks his bottom lip out. "Tuck that lip back in, pretty boy," you mutter, trying hard not to smile at him. "I won't be swayed by your elite pouting skills."

He pushes up onto an arm and looks down at you in the dim lighting, his messy curls tumbling against his forehead. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

You ponder the question for a bit before answering. "Go downstairs and get me a cup of coffee, then turn the shower on to heat up so it's nice and steamy when I get in."

"You got it," he grins, planting a quick kiss on your lips before hopping out of bed and pulling on a pair of black sweatpants. He's halfway to the bedroom door when your voice stops him

"Wait," you urge, sitting up and giving him a once-over when he turns to face you. "Aren't you gonna put on a shirt? Maybe brush your hair?"

He shrugs. "My parents have seen me with bedhead and no shirt. What's the big deal?"

"You look totally fucked out."

"And?"

You heave an exasperated sigh. "And I think you should brush your hair, put on a shirt, and wash your hands since you just had them all up in my goodies."

"Good idea on the hand washing," he agrees, striding into the bathroom before quickly reappearing; he gives you a cheeky wink as he wipes his damp hands on his sweatpants. "Be right back," he states, grinning as he disappears out the bedroom door, still shirtless and sporting his messy bedhead.

"Stubborn ass," you grumble, smiling as you collapse back against the bed.

~ ~ ~

You're downstairs in the kitchen about forty minutes later, flipping pancakes and chatting with Joe's parents; you take a swig of your second cup of coffee, your eyes going wide as Joe bounds down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"You shaved!" Robin chirps, quickly walking up to Joe and pinching his now-hairless cheeks. He meets your eyes over her shoulder, giving you a look when you raise an eyebrow at him.

~ He received a call from Coach Taylor earlier, right before y'all were about to get in the shower together. He was just ending the call when you stepped out to dry off. He made small talk with you while you quickly got dressed, opting for yoga pants and one of his hoodies that hits you at mid-thigh. He clearly shaved after you left to head downstairs. ~

Sneaky, you think to yourself, checking to see if the pancakes are done before dishing them up. "You want some pancakes?" you ask him, giving him a brief smile before turning to grab the butter out of the fridge.

"Nah, I'm just gonna grab a smoothie on the way to the facility."

"Okay, see you later." You head to the table and set down the butter, maple syrup, and the platter of pancakes and turkey sausage patties, your pulse reacting when you feel his big hand on the small of your back.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks. "Alone," he continues, giving you a smile when you throw him a look over your shoulder.

"Yeah … sure," you mumble. "I'll walk you out." You head for the side door with Joe close behind you. "Y'all go ahead and start without me," you call to his parents. "I'll be back in a sec." You open the door and step out into the garage, the cold air causing you to shiver a bit. "What's up?" you ask, not meeting his eyes as he steps out behind you, backing you up against the door once he closes it.

"You're mad that I shaved," he states.

"I'm not mad," you argue, "just a little disappointed. You know I love to watch."

"I know," he grimaces, running a hand through his hair. "I wasn't really thinking. Coach got me running plays in my head, and I was halfway done shaving before I thought about it. I'm sorry. I promise I'll let you watch next time."

"It's okay," you whisper, poking your bottom lip out and still not meeting his gaze.

He places a finger under your chin and gently tilts your head up, smiling when you finally make eye contact. "Your 'elite pouting skills' are way better than mine."

"No way," you mutter, matching his smile with one of your own. "Sorry I'm being a brat."

"You're not being a brat." He drops a kiss on your lips, lingering for a bit before pulling back.

"I knew it was coming," you sigh, reaching both hands up to touch his smooth cheeks, ghosting your fingertips over his immaculate jawline. "It's the perfect time for another 'hard reset' just after bye week."

He shrugs. "It's not even about football."

"Really?"

"Yep, it's about this," he murmurs, reaching a hand under your voluminous hoodie to cup your crotch, the heat from his hand radiating through your flimsy yoga pants making your toes curl. "I've had you in a chronic state of rug burn for the past few weeks," he continues. "You needed a break even if you won't admit it. The only solution was to shave since there's no way in hell I'm gonna keep my face away from your goodies."

You giggle at his emphatic statement. "Are you taking aphrodisiac pills or something? You're hornier than usual since the secret marriage ceremony, and I didn't think that was possible 'cause you've always been super high libido."

"You know what the best aphrodisiac in the world is?" he asks, grinding his palm against you, giving you a dirty grin when you bite your lip.

"What?"

"Having a gorgeous wife I can't get enough of."

"I can't get enough of you either," you whisper.

"Really?"

"Really," you assure him. "I can't be around you for ten seconds without my panties getting damp."

"If my parents weren't here, I'd take you right back to bed," he groans, removing his hand from your crotch to rearrange his budding erection. "They better be gone when I get back."

"They're leaving right after breakfast. You and I gushed about the fall fest so much that they found one about halfway between here and Athens. They're gonna hit it on the way home."

"Good." He drops another kiss on your lips before heading for his car. "Love you. I'll see you later."

"Love you, too. Have a good day," you smile, taking a few deep breaths of the cold air to clear your head before walking back in the house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Thursday, 10/26/23

You're lying on the sofa with a heating pad on your belly, waiting for Joe to get home from practice.

~ The last few days had passed by fast, with Joe being in a perpetual good mood, his optimism infectious as he chattered over dinner each night about the upcoming clash with the 49ers. ~

"And I had to ruin a good thing by getting my period this morning," you grump, grabbing the temperature control on your heating pad and clicking it up a notch. You chew on your lip and let the bad mood wash over you, more than a little annoyed at yourself. "It's not like it was unexpected," you snark, heaving an aggravated sigh just as you hear the side door open. "I'm in here," you call, poking your bottom lip out as Joe breezes into the living room, his expression immediately sympathetic when he spots the heating pad.

"Poor baby," he murmurs, dropping to his knees beside the sofa. "Are the cramps really bad?" he asks, spreading a big hand out on top of the heating pad.

"They were a few hours ago, but the ibuprofen I took is starting to kick in."

"That's good," he says, nodding his head. He's been with you long enough to know the first day of your period is always the worst, both physically with the cramps and mentally with the moodiness. "Can I get you anything?"

"Maybe in a bit," you mutter, giving him a smile. "How was practice?"

"Great," he chirps, matching your smile. "Offensive scheme is coming together, and my calf feels good. Can't ask for more than that."

"I'm glad." You reach out and run a hand through his hair, still damp from his post-practice shower; he leans into your touch like a cat being petted, and you repeat the action several times before speaking. "I don't feel like cooking dinner so let's just order something, okay?"

"Whatever you want," he agrees, leaning down to drop a kiss on your forehead. "Just name it, and I'll get it."

"Chinese sounds good. Something spicy," you muse, giving it some thought. "I think I'll have Kung Pao chicken plus a bunch of carbs."

"Rice or noodles?" he asks.

"Yes," you answer smiling when he graces you with that deep, throaty laugh.

"Okay so both," he confirms. "And obviously we need egg rolls."

"Obvs."

"Cool. I think I'll get beef and broccoli." He drops a kiss on your lips before standing up. "I'm gonna go pick it up since that'll be quicker than delivery. Anything else you need me to grab while I'm out? Wine? Chocolates? Tampons? Weed?"

"I think I'm good on all that," you chuckle, already feeling 100% better. "I can't wait to eat way too much and then bitch about how full I am."

"It'll be a nice change of pace to have you doing that instead of me," he grins, turning to head for the door. "I'll be right back."

"Be careful," you call after him, marveling at how fast he turned your bad mood around.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Tuesday, 10/31/23

You study your reflection in the full-length mirror, a dirty grin gracing your lips at the thought of Joe finally seeing you in the naughty lingerie you packed for your secret honeymoon but never got around to wearing -- thigh-high stockings, crotchless panties, and a lace-front underbust corset all in jet black. You both get a little thrill from your height difference so you decide to forgo high heels. "He's gonna love this," you giggle, shimmying into a black silk shorty robe and belting it around your waist.

It seems fitting to wear this outfit on Halloween night, since it's a fancier version of the outfit you wore on the first Halloween y'all were together back at LSU.

"And I know the sex is gonna be even hotter," you purr, winking at your reflection before heading downstairs to set the mood.

~ ~ ~

Thirty minutes later, you take a sip of blood red pinot noir and hold it in your mouth for a few seconds, dancing it around your tongue before swallowing, your eyes surveying the scene as you wait for Joe to get home.

The house was already decorated for Halloween, but you added a few extra touches -- candles on every available surface plus several strings of purple lights. You draped a gauzy purple scarf over the lamp in the living room, careful to make sure no candles were close enough to ignite it once they were lit.

You giggle to yourself as a memory hits you.

~ You and Joe making love in his LSU apartment, a scarf on the bedside lamp creating mood lighting along with a couple of flickering candles. Y'all were going at it when Joe suddenly pulled out and jumped off the bed, grabbing the flaming scarf -- that you hadn't even noticed -- before jogging to the bathroom and quickly extinguising the flames in the sink. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the close call when he calmly walked back into the bedroom, still fully erect like y'all didn't almost burn the place down. He crawled back in bed and soothed your nerves until you begged him to finish what he started. ~

"Cool, calm, and collected," you muse out loud, smiling as you think about all the folks who say he'd be a great soldier or first responder due to his stone cold demeanor under pressure.

You're still smiling as you take another sip of wine and think back to his most recent display of cool under pressure.

~ The 49ers game two days ago had been his best performance of the season; he'd been dialed in from jump, and his stats -- 28 of 32 passes for 283 yards and 3 TDs with 0 INTs -- were even more impressive since he did it against one of the best teams in the league. The decisive 31-17 victory -- on the 49ers home turf -- was the cherry on top. ~

The sound of the garage door opening pulls you back to the present. You walk toward the kitchen, your pulse rate picking up as Joe rounds the corner and hits you with a loaded look.

"Hey babe," he greets, setting a bag of take-out from your fav Italian place on the kitchen island before closing the distance between you. His gaze slowly rakes up and down your body, a dirty grin gracing his sensual lips when he finally meets your eyes. "What's under the robe?" he asks.

"It's a surprise," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him as he lowers his head to capture your lips; you lean into him and open your mouth for his tongue, smiling against his lips when he slides his hands under your robe.

"Thigh-highs," he groans, running his fingers along your bare skin just above the stockings. "What else is under here?"

You slip out of his embrace and give him a coy look. "Why don't you take a guess?"

"Okay." He gives you another slow once-over, his gaze coming to rest on your nipples visible through the silky robe. "Nothing?" he guesses, reaching a hand out toward the belt holding your robe closed.

"You'll have to wait and see," you tease, spinning away from him and heading into the kitchen. "Can you light the fire real quick then change into the outfit laid out on our bed?"

"Yes, ma'am," he grins, giving you a wink before heading off to do your bidding.

~ ~ ~

He walks back into the kitchen just as you're finishing plating up dinner; you turn your head to look at him, doing a double take at how hot he looks in the black silk pajamas you got him to match your robe. "Damn," you sigh, giving him a thorough up-and-down look. The pajama top is unbuttoned to show his sculpted torso, the slinky pants riding deliciously low on his hips. "We better hurry up and eat before I jump you," you tease, handing him a plate full of food and a glass of wine.

"You're seriously testing my self-control," he mutters, waiting for you to grab your plate and wine glass before following you into the living room.

Y'all sit opposite each other on plush floor cushions, using the coffee table as a dining table. Joe takes a sip of wine and surveys the scene; the only light in the room comes from the fire, the scarf-draped lamp, purple string lights, and about 20 flickering candles.

"Very romantic," he smiles, digging into his dinner as you do the same. After several bites, he points at the lamp, a big grin on his face. "Remember the time we almost burned down the apartment complex at LSU?"

"Yes," you laugh along with him. That's why no candles are anywhere near that scarf."

"You freaked out when that happened," he teases.

"And your pulse rate didn't even react."

"Someone had to keep a level head."

Y'all continue making small talk as you finish eating. Once you push your plate back, he hops up and carries both of your plates to the kitchen before quickly returning with the wine bottle, pouring the remainder in your glass.

"You trying to get me tipsy?" you giggle, biting your lip when he shrugs his pajama top off and tosses it on the sofa.

"Maybe," he grins, grabbing a couple of plush throw blankets off the sofa before laying them in front of the fireplace. He grabs a log and throws it on the fire before turning to face you.

You take a gulp of wine, allowing your eyes to travel over his tall, muscular frame that's backlit by the flickering fire. "Remember the naughty lingerie that you never got to see on our secret honeymoon?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"That's what I'm wearing under the robe."

"Why don't you show me?"

You stand up and walk toward him, slowly untying the belt on your robe. "Remember the first Halloween we spent together? The naughty librarian outfit I wore?"

His eyes go wide at the memory. "Thigh-highs and crotchless panties?"

"Yep, plus a little something extra." You shrug the robe off and toss it on the sofa, your core contracting at the hot look in his eyes as he gives you a slow once-over.

"Damn," he breathes, his eyes lingering on your bare breasts exposed by your underbust corset. "Turn around," he eventually orders, quickly closing the distance between you as you do his bidding; he drops a line of kisses from your shoulder all the way up the curve of your neck, ghosting his fingertips over your nipples as you grind your ass back against him. "So fucking sexy, baby," he whispers in your ear, gently pinching and tugging your sensitive peaks. "I want you to ride my face," he continues, sliding a hand down to your crotch, slipping his fingers inside the slit in your panties to play with your slick folds.

"I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that," you whine. "Cum on my tongue instead," he purrs, removing his hand from your panties before lying down on the plush nest of blankets; he crooks two fingers at you, beckoning you toward him while slowly licking his lips. You grab your wine glass and take one more hearty gulp before straddling his face, his hot tongue immediately delving into your aching core drawing a series of whimpers and moans from you.

Your first climax hits hard and fast, but the second one comes much slower, with him strategically avoiding your super sensitive clit to keep you on the edge as long as possible before triggering your orgasm. You fall over onto your back when he finally finishes you off, your head spinning and heart pounding as you struggle to catch your breath.

You eventually flutter your eyes open, giving him a satisfied smile as he pushes up onto one arm and looks down at you. "If there was an Olympic gold medal in pussy eating, you'd def win it," you pant, cupping a hand behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you lick your juices off of his chin before sucking his tongue into your mouth, dropping a hand down to tease his erection through his slinky silk pants. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to sting before gently sucking it, and you feel drunk with desire as he repeats the action.

"I want you to fuck me hard," you whisper against his slick lips, slipping your hand inside his pants to grip his cock. "Tell me how you want it," he urges, making a noise between a groan and a growl as you pump him several times, gathering some precum on your fingers before sucking them clean; you roll over onto your stomach and get on all fours, throwing him a look over your shoulder as he slides his pants off before lining his tip up with your entrance.

He slowly sinks inside you, giving you a few heartbeats to adjust to his thickness before starting to move. "Harder," you whisper, dropping your head down against the plush blanket while arching your back into his thrusts. He does as ordered, picking up his pace as you fuck back against him. "Harder!" you whine, needing him to give you a taste of the pleasure/pain combo to set off your third climax.

He slows his thrusts for a bit, and you immediately open your mouth to complain. "Shhhh," he soothes, leaning forward until his chest is pressed against your back. "I got you." He shifts his weight onto his left arm and wraps his right hand around your throat, squeezing just hard enough for the edges of your vision to go hazy while relentlessly pounding into you. "Yeah," you gasp when he eases his grip. "Just like that. Don't stop!"

It takes a few more minutes to trigger your orgasm, his big hand releasing your throat just in time for you to let out a primal scream as your climax rips through you; you come close to blacking out for a second, and when you come back to your senses he's still fucking you hard, holding you up with an arm around your waist so your shaky legs don't collapse. You reach a hand back between your legs and cup his balls, your core clenching when you feel how slick he is with your arousal; you give them a gentle tug just as he buries his length deep inside you and comes apart.

Your legs eventually collapse and he lets you down easy, careful not to crush you with his big body. After several minutes of mutual heavy breathing, you roll over onto your back and turn your head to look at him, both of you laughing at how fucked out y'all look.

"That … was … amazing," he says between gulps of air, gesturing at your outfit before continuing. "Pretty sure this needs to be a Halloween tradition."

"I agree," you pant. "I've always heard sex gets boring once you get married."

He scoots closer and drops a kiss on your shoulder. "I guess we're doing it wrong."

"If we're wrong I don't wanna be right," you giggle.

"For real," he laughs with you, sitting up to help when you start unlacing your corset.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Wednesday, 11/1/23

You finish packing your Halloween decorations into a few storage boxes, your eyes scanning the living room to see if you missed anything.

Your day had been decently productive -- two virtual work meetings, a few chores, and a homemade pumpkin pie, all accomplished with a delicious ache between your thighs that had you smiling every time you thought about last night.

"I'm home," Joe calls as he breezes in the side door. "Oh my God, do I smell pumpkin pie?" he groans, making a beeline for the kitchen island where the pie is cooling.

You grin at him as he leans down and takes a hearty sniff of the pie. "You want a slice now or after dinner?" you ask.

"Now!" he chirps, grabbing a plate and fork as you cut him a generous slice.

You slide the pie onto his plate and give him a wink. "I guess the AFC Offensive Player of the Week deserves to have dessert before dinner."

He takes a big bite, giving you a grin as he chews and swallows. "You'd let me have it before dinner even if I wasn't player of the week."

"Thanks for admitting you're a spoiled little shit."

"But you love me anyway, right?"

"More than anything."

"Love you, too," he mumbles around a hearty mouthful. "What's this?" he continues, pointing his fork at a stack of three countertop samples.

"The countertop samples I ordered for the lakehouse. Two quartz and one granite." You spread the rectangular slabs out on the kitchen island, pointing at the one on the far left. "I think we can eliminate this one," you state. "It's just kind of flat and blah. No pizzazz."

"I agree." He pops the last bite of pie in his mouth and sets his plate in the sink before continuing. "The other two look pretty cool."

"This is the quartz I picked out for my parents' lakehouse when they did the kitchen reno last year." You point at one sample before turning your attention to the other. "But I'm kind of feeling this granite. It's got the same black background with blue and green accents, but the accents are a little larger and blingier than the more subdued quartz."

He nods his head and steps closer, leaning down to study the granite. "It's got the teal we're using as our accent color."

"Exactly. Plus a lot of the dots remind me of your eyes -- blue, green or gray depending on what you're wearing and the way the light hits you."

"What color are they right now?" he asks, leaning close to give you a better look at his eyes.

"Blue with a hint of green," you answer, scanning the sample until you find a shimmery dot that matches. "Just like this," you continue, pointing at the colorful orb.

"Cool," he mutters, studying the dot for several seconds before grabbing your hand and stepping back a bit. "When you look at it a little farther back, all of the colorful dots look like distant galaxies floating in the vastness of space," he states. You turn your head and study his profile as he stares at the sample, a huge grin on his face as he continues. "It looks like an image from the Hubble telescope. Like a deep field shot."

"Raging space boner sequence initiated," you chirp in a robotic voice, laughing when he cuts a side-eye at you. "I'm kidding, babe. I'm glad you like it."

"I love it," he grins. "Can't wait to see it in the lakehouse."

You pull him close, tilting your head to look up at his face. "I'm really proud of you. You fought through a very painful calf injury, never complaining about the pain or how it hampered your mobility. Everybody got a nice reminder last Sunday of just how fucking amazing you are when you're mostly healthy."

"Thanks," he mumbles, his 'aw shucks' body language making you smile as he leans down to give you a quick kiss before continuing. "I'm optimistic that my calf will continue to improve. We might just save the season after all."

"After the clinic you put on against the 49ers, I bet the Bills are shaking in their cleats," you chuckle.

"Time to unleash hell," he grins.

"Damn right." You wrap a hand behind the nape of his neck and pull him down for a kiss, your outlook on the season feeling really positive for the first time since before his calf injury.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

[bimbobaggins69]

Fooled round & fell in love (part five)

Eddie Munson X Female!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: angstttt, hurt/comfort, allusions to depression, mention of reader having a ponytail, reader has some self doubt, cussing, fluffff

A/N: This took me a little longer then I wanted, I had this chapter almost completely written out but didn’t save it so when I went to change a song on Spotify and went back the whole app refreshed and everything was gone, yes, I had a mini break down lmao but wow I’m so proud of this series and I so glad to finally get the finale posted 🖤 Thank you to everyone who took the time out to read it! Also extra points if you get the twilight reference.

“Hey baby” rings out in your ears, your stomach drops at the sight in front of you, your feet feel stuck to the floor beneath you

“What are you doing here?” Eddie says to the blonde hanging off of his neck

“You called me and told me to come over, remember?” She says as she furrows her eyebrows

“I, what?” Eddie grits out while his jaw tenses

“Cmon baby, let’s have a repeat of the other night? I can’t stop thinking about you” she wines out

You’re still stuck, so silent the girl in front of you doesn’t even recognize your presence

But once those words leave her mouth, Eddie’s looking over at you with sullen eyes, and a look you couldn’t quite place, as he does, she finally realizes they’re not alone

“Who is she?!” She spits out

“Look you really need to go!”

“What the fuck Eddie? I said who is she?” The girl growled

“Get the fuck out!” Eddie yelled out

The girl turns to look at you while she clenches her jaw

“He’s just using you! I bet he said a bunch of crap that made you feel real special, huh?”

Eddie’s eyes widen at her words

She turns around rushing out of the door slamming it, almost making the whole trailer shake

“Y/n” Eddie says taking a couple steps towards you, he can see the tears brimming in your eyes

“Babe, please let me explain that” he says trying his best to be calm

Finally you snap out of whatever daze you’re in

“I can’t believe I actually fell for your bullshit, Eddie. What was she suppose to be your round two after I left?”

“What? No, no please I don’t even know what she’s talking about!”

“Yeah, okay, I’m gunna go” you grab your keys and head for the door

“Baby-“

“Don’t call me that, I’m not your baby, we’re not even friends, I wish I never let you touch me!” You say as tears roll down your cheeks

“Y/n don’t say that, please”

You race to your car and jump in slamming the door, as you peel off, you hear Eddie yelling your name, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him in the rear view mirror. On your drive home you can barely see through the tears in your eyes, it’s late so luckily the streets are dead, and all you want to do is get home and curl up in a ball and cry yourself to sleep

How could Eddie tell you all of those things knowing he invited another girl over, like you were nothing but another notch on his belt, You really felt like you two connected on a different level, you thought maybe since Eddie has known you for so long that you would be different, you would mean more to him.

The blonde girls words kept playing back in your mind

“Repeat of the other night” “I can’t stop thinking about you” “he’s just using you” “I bet he said a bunch of crap that made you feel real special, huh?”

Okay yes he dropped the L word, yes he said you were his dream girl but is that just shit he says in the throes of passion?

You felt physically sick to your stomach, but apart of you wished you heard him out, listened to what he had to say.

You weren’t sure what to feel in this moment, so many emotions pulling you in different directions, you just wanted to scream

Finally you pull up to your drive way, and make your way inside. Luckily your mom’s asleep or else she would definitely ask questions about the mascara and tears staining your face, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it. As you trudge upstairs, you make it into your room shutting your door and yanking your clothes off, all of them smelling like Eddie and you just wanted them as far away from you as possible, you throw them in your hamper and pull on a big shirt as you slide under your covers turning out the lamp on your nightstand

You toss and turn, trying your hardest to fight back tears but you can’t they flow out of you like a stream

You cry so much your chest starts to physically hurt, and in that moment you promise yourself after you get this agonizingly painful cry out, you won’t shed anymore tears for Eddie

You continue to cry until you eventually drift off to sleep.

The next morning you wake up to your phone ringing off the hook, you look at your clock on your nightstand, the big red numbers making your eyes squint a bit before they eventually adjusted, reading 12:42 pm, you sit up and stretch as the memories of the night before play like a movie reel in your head, your stomach twists as you remember every little detail of last night, you decide to ignore the phone and head to the shower wanting to scrub the nights events off your skin.

As you wrap a towel in your hair and put your black silk robe on tying it securely to your body, you make your way back into your room, you hear the phone go off for what seems like the 5th time, as much as you just want to shut down and lock yourself inside never having to deal with anyone again, you know thats just not realistic so you hesitantly walk over to the white house phone sitting on your desk.

You clear your throat as you answer

“Hello?” It comes out way more hoarse then you would’ve liked

“Sweetheart, please don’t hang up! I need to talk to you, please” Eddie let’s out in almost a panic

“Eddie, I have nothing to say to you, lose my number” you say as tears threaten to spill again, guess that promise you made to yourself is tougher then you thought

You slam the phone back down not wanting to hear another word from him.

As you make your way to your closet to pick out some clothes, your phone rings again, and now instead of tears you’re seething “can he not take the fucking hint?” You think to yourself

“I said leave me alone!” You bark out

“Woah, what did I do?” Robin says while removing the phone from her ear and looking at it in confusion

“Oh my god, Rob I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else” you say as you let out a deep breath and let your tense shoulders deflate back to their normal position

“And who would that be?” She says as she laughs

“It’s not that important, anyway what’s up?” You say trying to change the subject

“Well, you never called me back after the other night, and I was just wondering how everything went with you and that Randy guy? But now i’m not so sure I should’ve brought him up” she says

“Oh, yeah me and Randy aren’t really talking anymore, we just kind of decided we weren’t for each other, I guess” you say trying to sound as convincing as possible

You didn’t wanna lie to Robin, she’s your best friend but you just couldn’t go into detail about the whole situation, god you were still humiliated enough by saying Eddie’s name while Randy made you cum, but also Eddie’s friends with Steve and Steve’s friends with Robin so you didn’t wanna create awkward tension between anyone, knowing Robin would have your back if she did run into Eddie. You’ll tell her eventually but now is just not the time

“I’m sorry, babe, well you know what they say, there’s more fish in the sea and all that” she says trying to be as empathetic as possible

“Yeah, well lucky for me I don’t think I’ll be exploring the sea for a very long time” you laugh out

“Hey, how about we hang out today? Maybe go to Benny’s and grab some burgers and shakes? Forget about the burdens of our failing love lives?” She says as she wiggles her brows up and down, like you can see her through the phone

“Um, yeah that actually sounds nice, I wouldn’t mind stuffing my face with some fries and a strawberry shake” you say almost excited

“Okay, I’m gunna tell Steve and we’ll be on our way to pick you up, say around 3:30?”

“Kay, I’ll see you then”

As you hang up you start to overthink, what if Eddie shows up, what if Eddie’s already told Steve, what if, after what if, and now you are almost tempted to call Robin back and cancel, but you know you can’t, you already made plans

Finally you walk back over to your closet and pick out your outfit for the day which consisted of high waisted jeans, a white tank top and a cropped leather moto jacket, you make your way into your bathroom to throw on as little makeup as possible just a little something to cover up the redness from a night of crying, you decide to just pull your hair into a ponytail on top of your head, leaving bangs and some face framing pieces out, you slip some sneakers on and after your finished you make your way downstairs, to watch some tv until Robin and Steve get there

After about an hour of mindlessly flipping through channels and finally landing on music videos on MTV, you hear a car pull up in your driveway, you walk over to the window peaking out, to see Steve’s bmw. You grab your bag, turn the tv off and head out the front door.

“Hey, there she is” Steve says with a smile

“Hey guys, thank you for picking me up” you say as you slide in the back seat

“Don’t mention it” Steve and Robin say in unison

“It really creeps me out when you guys do that” you say as you stifle a laugh

Steve shoots a playful glare at you in the rear view mirror, and you can’t help but to giggle, which in turn makes Steve laugh

“So” Robin says “do you need me and Stevie here to beat this Randy guy up?” She says as she looks back at you, and you wonder if she can tell you’ve been crying

“No, Randy’s not my problem” you say without giving that statement much thought

“You sure?” Steve says looking at you again in the rear view mirror almost trying to read your face

“Guys, I’m fine can we just go pig out, please?” You beg

“Fine, fine let’s go” Robin says as Steve puts the car into reverse and backs out of your driveway

Once you walk into Benny’s with Steve to your right and Robin to your left, you are greeted with a waitress who tells you to sit any where you’d like, so you all opt for your usual booth in the back. its pretty big as it almost wraps around the whole table, being able to sit up to at least 6 people.

You all scoot into the booth and begin talking about god knows what, it’s more Steve and Robin talking while you get lost in thought but pretend to listen as you nod your head to the little words you catch here and there.

But your ears perk up when you hear Steve mention Eddie’s name, Robin asked where he was and that we should’ve invited him, but Steve says he had some business to take care of, whatever that means.

Before you’re able to get back to your thoughts the waitress is asking if you’re ready with your orders, she’s tapping her foot and chewing her gum as she waits for Robin to decide whether she wants fries or onion rings. Once the orders are put in, Steve and Robin go back to their normal chatter and banter, while you butt in every once in awhile. You’ve never felt like this before almost too stuck in your head, like it’s almost impossible to follow through with a whole conversation. After everyone’s done eating, you’re ready to head back home and maybe hide out in your room for another couple of days, this was too much human interaction for you and you just wanted to be alone with your thoughts. Once you all are finished eating you split the bill and head back out to Steve’s car, as Robin gets in the front seat, Steve stops you

“Listen, Eddie told me what happened and as a friend to a friend I really think you should hear him out y/n” he says with doe eyes you almost feel like he’s trying to play this up for Eddie, make you feel bad so you’ll talk to him

“I really don’t have anything to say to him Steve, I mean I don’t know what he told you but what he did was really fucked up”

“Yeah he told me” he says nodding his head

Your eyes widen a bit

“Like everything?” You say as you look down

“Well I mean he didn’t go into detail if thats what you’re asking but I mean I know enough” he says

“And you don’t think thats fucked? Telling me he’s in love with me and then inviting another girl over? Like who does that?”

“I don’t think that’s exactly what happened y/n”

“Okay so what did happen Steve?” You say as you start to get annoyed

“I don’t know but Eddie wouldn’t do that to you, I’m just saying you should hear him out” he says as he heads back to his side of the car, opening the door and getting in, leaving you there as you stair at the ground, lost in thought. After a few seconds you make your way to the car and slide into the backseat

“Is everything okay?” Robin says as she looks from you to Steve

“Yup, everything’s fine” you say as Steve nods in agreement

Once they pull up to the curb in front of your house, you thank them and tell Robin you’ll talk to her later. You head inside greeting your mom who’s just got home from work, you tell her about your day and listen to her latest work gossip, and then you head up to your room, once inside you take off your jacket and jeans and leave your white tank top on and slip on some black cotton shorts. As you sit in bed you realize how exhausted you feel and decide to take a nap, and maybe deal with the whole “listening to Eddie” situation later

As you drift off to sleep you can’t help but to dream of Eddie, his face, his hands, his lips, god you wanted to hate him, but this was physically taking so much out of you, you were still so irrevocably in love with him

The sounds of tapping wake you up from the best nap of your life. Once your eyes open and adjust to the darkness you hear the tapping again, as you sit up you realize it’s coming from your window, you stand up making your way over but as you look down into your driveway your breath hitches as you see Eddie releasing another rock into the air, as it hits the glass you flinch and back up, debating if you want to shut your curtains and go back to bed, but the conversation with Steve is still fresh in your mind, so without giving it a second thought you open your window

“Eddie, what are you doing here?” You hissed

“Come outside, please!” He yells back

“Eddie go home!” At this point you want him to beg before you hear him out

And almost like he read your mind, he yells back

“Please y/n, five minutes just give me five minutes!”

You close your window and go downstairs, throwing on the sneakers you wore earlier, as you head outside you see Eddie leaning against his van with a cigarette perched in his mouth, when he sees you he looks at you with the saddest eyes, as you get closer it almost looks like he’s been crying

“Your five minutes start now” you say as you fold your arms over your chest

“Okay, well what happened last night was not what you think, I never invited Becky over” he cries out

“Oh that’s her name” you think to yourself

“She said I called her and invited her over, and that was bullshit” he says as he fiddles with the cigarette in his hand

“Okay so enlighten me Eddie, what did happen?” You say a little condescending

“I spent all fucking day trying to figure that out, and after talking to a few people, I found out Becky and Randy are friends, like they definitely run in the same circle and what I believe happened is Randy asked her to come over and say that I invited her, how he knew you were there I don’t know, but I promise you sweetheart, I would never do some shit like that, not to you, everything I told you last night, I’ve been wanting to tell you for years but I was too stupid and too pussy. But that aside, I would never do anything, anything to lose you! Fuck y/n I mean I’ve never felt this way before and after last night I can’t even imagine being with anyone else. I don’t think my dick could get hard for anyone but you, now”

You roll your eyes at that

“Real romantic, Munson” you retort

“I’m serious” he says as he takes a step closer to you

You don’t move as he takes a couple more steps closer now standing directly in front of you, you’re looking up into his eyes trying to scan it for any bullshit, but all you see is sincerity and that makes your stomach flutter

“Okay, your five minutes are up” you whisper up to him as he looks down at you starring into your eyes

“Cmon y/n you have to believe me” he whispers back, as the hand without the cigarette comes up to cup your cheek, he’s surprised when you don’t make a move to pull away

“I do believe you” you whisper back as tears fill your water line

“But I don’t know, eddie” you say as you shake your head “I mean if we do this, what if you realize I’m not enough? What if you get bored? I can’t compete with all those girls, and that lifestyle” you say as the tears begin to fall

Eddie wipes them away with his thumb as his own tears threaten to spill

“Baby, you’re so much more than enough, you don’t have to compete with shit, because there is no competition, I want you, I’ve already had that and now I just want you, I want you to be mine”

“I have one more question” you spit out almost not thinking before you said it

“Yeah, anything?” Eddie says while nodding his head

“What did she mean by, I bet he said some crap that made you feel special? What did you tell her?” You say almost too nervous to hear the answer

Eddie let’s out a deep breath before he begins talking

“I’m gonna be honest with you, absofuckinglutely nothing, we barely talked I fucked her for a total of maybe four minutes, before I pretended to cum so she could get the fuck out of there. The only reason I went home with her was because I wanted to see if you’d get jealous maybe show me some kind of reaction but you were too busy cozied up to Randy boy, and then when I took her back to my place, I regretted it cause all I could think about was you. I really wanted to pull you off of his lap and drag you back home and teach you fucking lesson, god when I showed up to your house and seen you in that little outfit I had an instant hard on, I wanted to tell you how I felt then, but when you told me you were seeing someone I didn’t wanna ruin it for you no matter how jealous I was”

His words make your heart soar, you can’t believe you spent all night crying over something you shouldn’t have been crying over, now you felt like it was your turn to grovel

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I should’ve heard you out instead of assuming the worst” you say as you wrap your arms around his waste and put your chin on his chest

“S’kay baby, I’m just glad we’re okay, I’ve been a fucking wreck since last night”

“Me too” you say as you both laugh at each others sheer stupidity

“Hey do you wanna go for a drive or something?” He says looking at you with a glint of hope in his eyes

“Mm, I don’t know if I should” you say as you look back at your house, debating whether it’s a good idea

But when you look back into his doe eyes you can’t say no

“You know what, fuck it, yeah let’s go” you say with a smirk

“That’s my girl” he says back with his signature mischievous grin

my girl

I could get use to that.

epilogue

THANK YOU FOR READING

PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG 🖤

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#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson series #eddie munson x female reader

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do you know when your plot is over complicated?

Knowing When Plot is Over Complicated

I think story structure templates (Save the Cat , Hero's Journey, Three-Act Structure, Larry Brooks Story Structure, Seven-Point Structure, John Truby's Twenty-Two Building Blocks, Six-Stage Plot Structure, Dramatica Act Structure, etc.) can be really helpful in determining whether or not your plot is over complicated.

Fair warning: story structure templates are just guides... never feel like you have to follow a particular one, or follow a particular one exactly. Many writers cobble together bits of different templates, and others use them simply to inform next moves. They're just there to help you figure out how your story might go.

Having said that, browse through some different templates and try to identify key points in your story according to the structure's plot points. When you find one that seems like a reasonable fit (doesn't have to be exact), you can fill it out according to the plot points in your story. If you have several plot points that don't seem to fit, see what happens if you fill out a couple other different templates. If you consistently have the same plot points not fitting into structure templates, that could be a sign that those plot points are excessive and not doing much for the story. At that point, you can look at each excessive plot point and ask what happens if you delete it? What changes in the story? Are those elements essential? If so, can you effect those same changes by revamping another (necessary) plot point? If not, you can probably cut it... but you might want to save it in a file for use in a future story.

Another thing you can try is going through each of your plot points separately and ask yourself the following questions relating to how each plot point moves the story forward:

Does it move the MCs closer to their goal? Does move the character further away from their goal or create an obstacle that must be overcome? Does it move characters into place for the next plot point? Does it deliver information and/or develop information about back story, characters, or world that is crucial for understanding the story?

If you answered "no" to all of these questions and can't see anything critical the plot point does to move the story forward, it's likely an unnecessary plot point.

Even if you answered "yes" to one or a few of these questions for a particular plot point, it's still worth looking closer to see what exactly the plot point accomplishes. Are you sure that thing isn't being accomplished elsewhere, too? Are you sure there's not a way you could make a more necessary scene/plot point accomplish that same thing? Sometimes you can eliminate excessive plot points by taking what you feel needs to be kept and tucking it in elsewhere, into places you know need to be kept.

Ultimately, with a little critical thinking and "kill your darlings" honesty, you should be able to find and eliminate parts of your plot that are excessive.

I hope that helps!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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