#is that a thing I've mentioned? that I collect mugs?

[causeimanartist]

Post League meeting thoughts

#batman #bruce wayne #dc #my art #causeimanartist #ron swanson #parks and rec #(because that's where the quote is from lol) #and featuring one of my mugs! #is that a thing I've mentioned? that I collect mugs? #I use one for hot chocolate and the rest for trinkets on my dresser/bookshelf/everywhere #a to z #a to z character challenge #a to z challenge

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | do you have an appointment?

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 11.2k words, pretty wife visits joel at work when he forgets his lunch, and he wants to show everyone there just how good you are to him. and when you're good, you get a reward. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, exhibition kink, oral (m + f receiving), kneeling???, dirty talk, sir kink, pet names for reader, reader is joel's little doll hehe, little bit of domestic bliss, brief mention of alcohol, extremely submissive reader a/n: idek what happened here, it's been a while since i've gotten a chapter finished and went a little crazy with the word count on this one oopsie. i was plotting and writing this chapter then read this book and was extra excited that it lined up with this chapter so well so ANYWAY ENJOY! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

You love the mornings you have with Joel before he works, the ones where he takes it slow and sits down to sip coffee with you, eating the plated breakfast you set in front of him and chatting about what’s on his agenda for the day. You even love the ones where he practically flies into the kitchen, dressed and ready, and you can read the signals that there isn’t any time to spare for sweet chatter and a meal this morning.

This happens to be one of those mornings, with Joel buzzing around quickly, trying to get his things in order. He’d spent way too long making out with you like a horny teenager after already sleeping in too late for everything he had to get done at the office today, and now he was paying the price. 

“Shit, sorry, baby, gotta rush out of here,” Joel mumbles as he scoots past you, taking a hasty gulp from his mug of coffee. You’ve been standing, fingers curled around your hips, brushing the fabric of your silk robe and watching in amusement as your husband starts to fall apart in the chaos of his own doing. You can smell the freshness of his shower on him, his heavenly body wash making you take an extra breath in just to keep it with you a little longer. 

“You just worry about your shoes and bag, let me get this into a travel cup for you,” you tell him, grabbing the mug out of his hands before he can protest. 

“God, m’perfect wife, thank you,” he says quickly, pecking the side of your head as he passes by again, heading towards the coat closet near the front door. 

You hear him rustling around as you fill one of his favorite cups - a Texas Longhorns travel mug - and walk it over to the front door. 

“Dumb ass for scheduling this meeting so early,” he mumbles to himself, critiquing his lack of foresight in his own agenda. He has his shoes on and looks ready to go as he looks up at you, his irritated expression immediately changing into a soft, lopsided smile. 

His arms reach out to you and pull you in for an embrace, grabbing the mug out of your hand before leaning down to kiss you, long and deep. 

“Make it up t’ya later,” he promises with a wink before one more chaste kiss makes its way onto your lips from him. 

“You better,” you quip back, “Bye, honey.” He waves as he slips through the front door, and moments later you hear his truck start up, speeding off through the neighborhood. 

You sigh, shaking your head a little at your husband, but start to move along with your day, changing into your more worn clothes - an old t-shirt of Joel’s and some cloth shorts - to tidy the kitchen first and then get a good vacuum done all over the house. You find a few more projects - taking an inventory of toiletries for your trip to the store this week and a quick clean of the half bathroom on the main level has you feeling accomplished for the day, realizing it’s nearing the time you’re supposed to meet your friends for your weekly tennis scrimmage. 

You contemplate inside your closet for a few moments before deciding on an all white tennis outfit - a pleated skirt and workout tank top, completing it with ankle high socks and your white tennis shoes. You throw a zip up on top of everything and clasp on the sparkling tennis bracelet Joel had gotten you, claiming it had tennis in the name, so it must go with your tennis outfits, right? You’d nearly fallen out of your chair that day at the glimmering diamonds as Joel put it on your wrist for the first time, telling him that it wasn’t in fact something that actually had anything to do with you playing tennis. You decided to wear it most weeks to play tennis, anyways, just because of how sweet the gesture had been from him.

You open the fridge to grab some snacks and a protein drink to bring to the court with you, when your eye catches on Joel’s lunch, still sitting in the fridge and untouched - in his rush this morning he must have forgotten it. You frown, pulling out your phone and shooting a quick text to your friends, letting them know you won’t be able to make your usual time today and then pull up Joel’s contact to call him.

“Hey darlin’, how are you?” Joel says upon picking up, sounding slightly distracted among the sound of shuffling papers in the background.

“You forgot your lunch,” you blurt out.

“Oh, shoot, you’re right, ain’t ya. Hmm, s’okay, I’ll just grab somethin’ to go, maybe,” Joel says, sounding lost in thought over his current situation.

“Let me bring it to you. We could eat together?” you ask, biting your lip and hoping his day isn’t too busy to fit you in. 

“Don’t ya have tennis and lunch with your girls right about now?”

“Er, well, I already canceled to bring you your lunch,” you admit. You hear Joel hum quickly on the other end in contemplation.

“Alright, ya got me. Jus’ didn’t want you to go out of your way f’me,” Joel says, and you shake your head a little bit.

“Of course not, I want to eat lunch with you. Besides, I haven’t been to the office in a long time.” 

“See ya around noon, then?” Joel asks, and you agree that noon sounds perfect. 

“W-wait, doll -” Joel cuts in before you two can hang up.

“Hmm?” you murmur, clutching the phone back into your ear.

“What’re you wearin’? Your little white skirt?” he asks, and you lick your lips and break out into a smile.

“Maybe…” you tease, “I was about to change, though, if I’m not playing.”

“Don’t.” Joel says more sternly. “Don’t change.”

And as usual, you obey. 

You walk into Joel’s office building, part of a larger skyscraper downtown, and as you notice little details again you realize that you really haven’t been here in ages. It always impresses you every time you see it, though, the pristine office space and location, and it makes you smile at how successful your husband has gotten. You bet he’s as good a boss as he is a husband, you think to yourself, knowing that Joel’s business is one of the top contracting companies in Austin.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” a younger, sandy haired woman behind a counter labeled Reception asks as you walk up. 

“Oh, I’m here to see Joel - uh, Mr. Miller? I -“ you stutter uncomfortably - you suddenly feel a bit out of your depth looking into this woman’s curious, critical eyes.

The woman looks you up and down, assessing you quickly. You find yourself wishing you could hear the thoughts going through her head as she quirks a brow at you. You try not to be self conscious, but sometimes in a situation like this, where you’re not sure exactly where you belong, you tend to get nervous. You just want to see Joel and find some solace in his arms.

“Do you have an appointment?” she interrupts you, glancing at the computer to see if there’s anything on the agenda for this time of day. 

“Gosh, no. I’m his wife. Sorry, should have said that right off the bat. He forgot his lunch this morning,” you tell her, putting on your kindest smile and holding the little cooler bag up. Her eyes widen just slightly and she stares for a moment, her quick gaze roaming your outfit and body having a different meaning now, landing with a small, furtive smile on the high pony tail that had been swinging back and forth on your head as you’d walked in. 

“Sorry, he didn’t say he was expecting you. I can show you where his office is, if you need,” she says, suddenly straightening her back and cocking her head at you.

“No worries, I’ve been here before. Uh, thanks,” you tell her, trying not to falter your smile. Something about the way she’d looked at you made you feel… off - like she was judging you for some secret that you weren’t in on. It’s obvious you’re much younger than Joel, but you’ve never been bothered by the fact and you wish other people weren’t, either. Maybe they’d expected some frumpy older lady to walk in here, or something, and instead were stuck with the conundrum that was you. 

You try to shake it off and make a beeline to Joel’s office, but you find more eyes are on you - people looking up from their desks as you pass, doing double takes, their faces completely unreadable. Your skin is crawling a little uncomfortably at the sidelong glances from so many people you don’t know. You’re starting to regret your choice of outfit, not changing before you’d left the house, but you do know Joel loves this particular tennis skirt on you, and he’d specifically asked you not to change. You try to remind yourself that the only opinion that matters in this office is his, and it settles your nerves a little bit. 

“There she is,” Joel says sweetly as you give his office door a few quick knocks and enter. He practically jumps out of his chair to meet you, swiftly going in for a kiss. He takes the lunch bag you’d packed out of your hand and plops it onto his desk. 

“Hungry now?” he asks, and you nod, smiling almost dumbly at him. You just find that he does something to you, this man, and you can only smile and nod and be this submissive little thing around him most of the time. And it’s absolutely glorious, the effect your husband has on you. It's like everything that happened, all the uncomfortable stares from the office, completely vanishes once you’re with him. 

Joel gives you one more kiss, groaning a little into it before pulling away reluctantly. He rearranges chairs so that you two can sit next to each other and eat at his desk. He starts to unpack the lunch, pulling out a small slip of paper with a knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Oh, that’s -” you start, a small blush coming over your cheeks.

“I know what it is, darlin’. You pack them every day,” Joel replies, unfolding it and reading the small note you’d packed in his lunch. You started to get into the habit so long ago that you can’t even remember how long you’d been doing it. Putting funny jokes, sexy promises, or just a quickly scrawled I love you and tossing it in with his lunch each night became just simply part of your routine at this point. 

Joel stands up and opens a drawer at his desk, pulling out a small box that he opens to place the note inside. Your mouth hangs open a little as the realization of what he’s doing hits you.

“You… keep them?” you ask timidly, and Joel’s eyes find yours, his smile growing.

“Every single one,” he states simply, and you feel your eyes grow watery before blinking it away. “Good for when I’m havin’ a rough day,” he adds, finding his way back to his seat. 

You’re practically speechless, loving that the small gesture has meant so much to Joel, has helped him on days he’s here without you and needs a pick me up. The thought alone sends your heart soaring, filled with love for your husband and you lean forward to kiss him again, savoring the feel of his lips on yours.

“That’s so sweet, baby, I love it,” you finally manage to say with a tight voice, and he pinches your cheek lovingly before settling back in his chair to eat.

“Oh, hang on, darlin’, I think there’s some sodas in the break room I could sneak us,” Joel says with an effortlessly suave wink, leaving you smiling to yourself as he slips out of his office. 

Joel hears hushed voices through the open door to the break room, and he’s about to turn in when the words they’re saying catch his ear. He knows he should just go in, silence them with his presence alone, but he can’t help himself. He immediately feels a seething boil under his skin at what he’s hearing. 

“I swear, I heard from someone who went for like, a party or something at their place, she’s totally like one of those Stepford Wives. All dolled up and in dresses and aprons all the time and shit. I don’t know, just sounds weird to me,” a female voice says, and Joel’s brow crinkles further, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

“What, really?” a male voice replies, with a second female voice murmuring something similar. 

“I mean, didn’t you see her walk in today? The outfit alone. Cute, but like… feels like she’s trying a bit too hard, you know,” the first woman says, and Joel hears laughter between the other two. 

“Oh, I saw,” the second woman says with a snort. “It’s all people are talking about out there, seriously. Didn’t know the boss was such a sugar daddy.”

“I know, makes you wonder. He could have anyone, he’s handsome enough and successful, and he chooses to just be with some housewife? She’s pretty and all that, but like…. I guess to each their own,” she says, with a tone that indicates she doesn’t mean her words at all, and her judgment is still swift. 

Joel has found himself sucked into their conversation, listening from the outside with baited breath, a sinking feeling in his chest. Sure, he’s angry, absolutely livid that these three are being so hastily judgemental, but what’s hurting the most is knowing they’re talking about his wife. His sweet, loving, caring, absolutely perfect wife. Someone who always thinks of others, so giving, so wonderful. He knew if you heard their words, it would hurt you deeply, the thought that these people were talking badly about you for just living the way you want to live. 

Joel can’t take it anymore, swiftly turning the corner of the doorframe and entering the room. The three of them are mid-laughter and it tapers off as Joel heads for the fridge. 

“Afternoon,” he says casually, a knowing smirk on his face to try to hide his anger. He glances at the three of them, surely sweating bullets and all looking a bit like they were caught in the act, eyes blinking rapidly and smiles a little too forced.

They all murmur similar greetings in response, trying to act casual. Joel grabs a few sodas out of the fridge, wrapping his large hands around the cool cans and letting the change of temperature ground him a bit. 

He makes his way to the door, letting them think that he didn’t hear anything, that they got off the hook that easily. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the room, glancing over his shoulder at his three employees, looking so uncomfortable as they stand huddled together that he could laugh right in their faces.

“Y’know,” he starts, dragging it out a little with a small sigh. “I’ll bet she’d have nothin’ but nice things to say about you three,” he says simply with a quick shake of his head before turning, not even bothering to check their reactions. 

All he wants now is to head back to you, back to his wife, and give you an extra squeeze and a kiss for being so wonderful to him. You’re waiting eagerly, nervously playing with your fingernails when Joel returns, and you immediately smile widely again at the sight of him. 

“Hit the jackpot,” he says, and you grab the can from him. Joel leans down, grabbing your face with his free hand, slightly cold still from the drink and you yelp with a playful giggle. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly with a chuckle, moving his hand off of your cheek. “Just needed to kiss my girl.”

You meet his face in the middle and let him, his lips crashing into yours for a few blissful seconds before he sits down next to you and asks to hear about your morning. He keeps a firm hand on your knee any time he doesn't need to use them to eat his lunch as you two sit and catch up between bites.

“Y’swear, you made this bread?” Joel asks you, marveling at his sandwich - meat, cheese, and veggie toppings sitting between a sourdough recipe you’d been trying to perfect.

“I swear. I can’t believe you haven’t seen the levain in the house, it’s just a big gross blob in a jar,” you say, stifling a laugh.

Joel ponders his memory for a few moments before nodding. “Guess maybe I did. But m’point is - what can’t my wife do? So talented…”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the special attention and compliments he’s giving you, shaking your head modestly in reply. “N-no, it’s just bread,” you say meekly.

He squeezes your thigh, leaning his forehead against yours for a brief second as he speaks. “You’re perfect, darlin’, sorry to say it, but it’s true.”

You laugh then, deciding not to fight him on it anymore. Your face continues to warm from his compliments, your body tingling slightly as you feel a hint of desire pooling low in your body. You know that isn’t his intended result from the compliments he’s doling out on you now, but you can’t help but respond to his attention like this, feeling a deep satisfaction that you’ve pleased him in some way.

“Hey Joel, I -“ a voice interrupts, a broad, light haired man entering through the cracked door. “Oh, sorry, didn’t know - uh -“ he says upon seeing you, chair scooted close to Joel’s, his hand rubbing circles on your thigh. 

“S’alright Rick, what is it?” Joel replies, not bothering to move his hand. If anything, he instinctively tightens it, claiming you in front of a new person, letting them know who you belong to.

“Jus’ had a few questions on the Parker Street project, but it can wait.” His eyes flash back and forth between you and Joel, seemingly trying to size up the situation. Joel opens his mouth to respond to Rick, but the man smiles suddenly and speaks again before Joel can.

“Now who’s this, though? Don’t tell me you’re hiring girls to eat lunch with you now,” Rick teases, and you feel your mouth pop open and your face get hot at the insinuation. Joel’s face doesn’t crack, it hardly even moves as you glance over at him desperately, feeling a burn of embarrassment prickle at your eyes. You try to blink it away, hoping you don’t end up crying in front of this random asshole. 

Joel clears his throat a moment later, his hand tight on your thigh, sudden energy and irritation coursing through him and out into his grip. “If you need to hire your own wife to eat lunch with you, then you got bigger problems, don’t you, Rick?” he snips back, and Rick pales realizing what he thought was a light-hearted joke didn’t quite land. 

“J-just messing around, I’m sorry. She’s just - uh -“ Rick stutters, and Joel just gives a blasé raise of his eyebrows. 

“Careful what words come out of your mouth next about my wife.”

Rick seems intent on digging himself deeper into his own hole and stutters some more, trying to explain himself. “N-no, it’s just - well, you’re very beautiful,” he says, turning to you quickly. “Some people around the office, t-they said some things when you came in. Just jokes, that’s all, just you’re pretty and young, and Joel, well he’s… and… we just made funny assumptions that you couldn’t be his wife.”

Joel sighs, keeping a cool demeanor as he cocks his head in Rick’s direction “People really think my wife, my perfect little wife, is some random girl I hired, huh? After the way you all know I feel about my girl, way I go on and on about this perfect little thing right here,” Joel says, gesturing to you quickly. “Think I’d want anythin’ to do with anyone else?”

“God, no, Joel, it’s just - we didn’t know, she was… shit, so young, okay?”

Joel’s lips purse and you watch on, wide eyed and stunned silent by this conversation, not sure what you could even say right now to help. 

“Well, she is the age she is,” Joel says simply. “Let everyone know if they’ve got an issue, they can come see me.” He breathes an unamused chuckle, looking at Rick expectantly.

“You’re right, Joel. It was just s-stupid office chatter, sorry you had to get caught up in it. We know how m-much you love your wife. He’s always - always talking about you, promise,” Rick says, and your lips turn up a little at his groveling. 

“I know he does,” you finally say, keeping yourself meek but clear, turning to look at Joel and planting a kiss on his cheek. He turns his head, meeting the kiss and making sure Rick sees just how much you care for each other. 

“We’ll talk about the Parker Street stuff later, come back in… mm, an hour or so with Steve and Pat,” Joel says, glancing down at his watch. 

“Sure, of course, sounds good,” Rick says quietly, starting to back out of Joel’s office. “Again, I’m so sorry…” he trails off, and you smile blankly at him in return. 

“It’s alright, I get it. Joel does pay me in other ways to eat lunch with him,” you say, and you hear Joel nearly choke on a laugh next to you as he mutters an impressed curse under his breath. 

Rick doesn’t know what to do - smile, laugh, or let his face get a deeper shade of red at your sudden fierceness, but he settles on a strange, awkward combination of all three before leaving the door cracked shut behind him. 

“Now what was that?” Joel asks, turning towards you, shock written on his face. 

“What, I can’t give him a taste of his own medicine?” you reply, doe-eyed and smirking.

“God, no, y’can. It was perfect, so fuckin’ sexy to see you tell them what I do for ya,” Joel growls, standing up and pulling you off your chair and into his arms. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck in response to his movements, pulling yourself closer.

“Do you have to get back to work now?” you ask with a slight pout, knowing this lovely afternoon with Joel would have to come to an end eventually.

“Don’t want ya to leave,” Joel says, hand splayed across your lower back, holding you tight to his torso. “Could keep ya here w’me at work as my little pet, couldn’t I?” His eyes gather up a mischievousness as he considers his own words and what they mean he’d be getting this afternoon. 

“Have me, then,” you reply, your eyelashes fluttering as you blink up at him. Joel’s jaw sets a little tighter, a groaning noise working its way out of him as he grinds up against you a little bit. His hand gently taps under your chin, lifting it slightly and holding it there, cocking his head in amazement at you. 

“All mine, hm? My little pet to play with?” he asks, his voice going an octave lower in want. 

You dip your head in one long bow, and Joel starts forward, catching your lips with his. He devours you, forcing his tongue into your mouth quickly and you slide yours against his in equal fervor, starting to moan wantonly into his mouth. He’s already got you breathless, the way his hands move fluidly along your back, catching your ass in his palm and squeezing, the other one gripping the back of your neck, holding you in place.

Joel moves you backwards, slowly walking you until he collapses in his office chair, pulling you down with him and settling you to straddle his lap. He pulls away, thumbing your cheek and scanning your face, glowing and flush with arousal for him already. 

“Wanna teach some assholes here a lesson about disrespectin’ my wife,” he says. “Can’t have that, can I?” 

Your lips turn up in a smile and you shake your head for him, eliciting a devilish smirk from Joel. 

“Alright, why don’t ya stay next to me, darlin’, while I get some work done. See if any of ‘em got somethin’ more to say when they see how good my wife is to me.”

You blink a few times in confusion, your body torn because of the way he’d just been all over you, to not have it progress any further. You start for a chair, to pull it over next to his desk, and you hear Joel tisk as soon as you begin to turn away. His hands hold onto your back, stopping you from sliding off of his firm lap.

“Not like that doll, y’know what I want - need y’to help me relax a little,” Joel says, his eyes quickly dipping to the floor and back up, and you stiffen, immediately picking up on the change. You should have known better when he’d brought up the words little pet. You tilt your head innocently at him as he releases his hold on you, and feel your body moving before you can even process it, moving off of his lap, legs buckling and sending you to your knees. 

“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, looking down at you, settled on your knees next to his chair, “Good girl, my good little wife.”

Your insides warm at his praise, bubbling with satisfaction as you gaze up at him seated above you. You have to admit that you’re surprised Joel has gone this far in the workplace - this dynamic isn’t necessarily anything new to you, and Joel does have to be in a certain mood to get as far as wanting you kneeling next to him like this, but you’re always more than happy to oblige. You love the way it makes him look at you, so pleased and adoring as you fulfill both of your needs and desires, turning yourself off to become everything he needs, and in turn, everything you need. 

“Now, you okay if people see you like this? Y’know the last thing I want is to upset ya,” Joel says and you nod. 

“It’s okay,” you say with a small smile, scooting a bit closer to his chair. You worm your way closer, nuzzling his leg before resting your chin on his thigh. “Whatever you need, sir.”

“Mm, that’s it, jus’ get comfortable,” he coos down at you. Your heart is lifting, thundering happily in your chest at how natural this position feels for you. “I’ll let y’know when I need you.”

You nod dutifully into the fabric of his slacks and Joel turns his chair slightly, patting his thigh before pulling you in between his legs rather than next to him, and you rest your cheek on his inner thigh, letting your breath calm at the warmth of his skin. Your initial nerves that anyone could walk in and see you like this, see you in a position they might consider weak or strange or even gross are dissipating when you sense your husband's presence so close, the thick muscles of his thigh moving underneath your cheek.

You observe his world as he starts to get to work, clicking and typing on his computer with a few irritated sighs. You can tell just how much Rick’s comments are affecting Joel, how the tension spreads and radiates throughout his body. He tuts a few times as he scrolls his emails, your eyes flicking up to the screen but not bothering to read much, giving him his privacy. He picks up the phone and you hear bits and pieces of the conversations he’s having, just finding yourself content to let your mind wander, focusing on the sensations at hand - Joel’s warmth, the muscles on his leg shifting every so often, the sound of his breathing above you when the room gets quiet. 

His hand drifts down while he’s waiting for the other end of the line to ring on a new call, his large hand landing on the top of your head and moving down, stroking gently along the side of your head several times. The sudden attention has you glancing up at his face, and he gives you a sweet look, eyes glazed over as he watches your lips parted and eyes trusting and twinkling for him. You melt instantly, a frown coming to your face as soon as Joel breaks eye contact and blinks quickly a few times, snapping out of it.

“Oh, yeah, this is Joel Miller calling for Devin,” he says. You then decide to filter out anything unimportant again, and wait for Joel to call your attention again as he places what sounds like some order for different lumber sizes for a new build they’re working on. He doesn’t move his hand, though, brushing it along your head in slow, repeated strokes while his voice drones on. You don’t even notice the way your hands have moved of their own accord, grasping onto his calves and inching yourself even closer to where his legs meet on the chair. Your hands are crawling up his thighs, rubbing them, and your face is dangerously close to his crotch now. You can feel Joel’s eyes peering down at your slow, steady movement towards dangerous territory. 

“Mhm, you too, bye,” Joel says, before harshly setting the phone down onto the receiver on down his desk and hissing through his teeth as he snaps his head down to look at you.

“What’re you doin’,” he snips, and your movements halt, a bit of fear burning through your veins that you’ve upset or disappointed him.

“Just… wanted to touch you more,” you say quietly, putting your eyes and head down towards the floor. 

“Said I’d tell y’when I needed you, didn’t I?” he asks.

“I know… I’m sorry, Joel. You just… make me so…” you stutter, knowing he probably won’t like that you’re trying to make excuses right now, not when he’s in this dominant mode. He’s usually pretty lenient with situations like this though, when he knows you just want to be close to him and aren’t trying to be a brat on purpose.

“Hmm,” he growls a little, his lip bit in contemplation for a moment before he places a hand on the back of your head, fisting your high ponytail into his palm. “I know I do, can’t help yourself can you?”

You shake your head in quick movements. “No, I can’t… sir.”

“Make it up t’me…” Joel says, dragging his words. “Suck on my cock like a good girl while I finish this work, then I’ll give ya all the attention you need.”

Your hand brushes gently over the obvious arousal bulging out of his pants, so close to where your cheek was just resting, as you graze your fingers up to his belt in a slow, tantalizing manner, garnering a hum of satisfaction from Joel. You’re about to pull it through the first loop when there’s a knock on the door and you jump, dropping your hand back to his thigh. 

“Shit,” Joel spits under his breath in irritation. “After,” he commands a bit louder to you, and you nod, staring up at him in anxious anticipation for what to do next. Should you stand, stay right where you are, get into the seat next to Joel? Your heart starts to pick up a little as you sit up straight, ready to move if needed.

“Don’t get up for them,” he says sternly, seeming to read your mind, so you blink and try to relax back down. His hand finds its way back to the side of your head, stroking to calm you. “S’okay.”

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly as Joel summons them to come into his office.

You refuse to make eye contact with them, suddenly feeling shyness weigh on you, your shoulders curling in as you find refuge against Joel’s leg again. You hear the shuffle of shoes and bodies entering the room and try not to tense up, wanting to make a good impression for Joel. You try to be brave, looking up at Joel and then turning your head to his coworkers with a lazy smile, and they’re already staring at you with a mixture of emotions - confusion, lust, disgust, and so many things you can’t read that you find it makes you avert your gaze immediately.

“The Parker Street project, right?” Joel says, completely ignoring the rapidly changing emotions on their faces. 

“Right,” one of them that isn’t Rick says. “J-joel, um,” he says, flashing his eyes to you a few times.

“My wife, don’t worry about her. She’s visiting today. Tell them hello, darlin’,” Joel says, his hand still moving lazily along the side of your head.

“H-hello,” you manage to choke out, giving them your name and hoping your voice doesn’t waver too much.

They awkwardly greet you in return, and you try to focus, focus, focus, on Joel’s soothing hand on your hair, the well worn fabric of his pants below you that smells like him, the promise of dirty things after he has this meeting. You find it calms you, wishing you could be exactly like he wants - perfectly submissive, not scared for these other men to see you like this, and you aren’t scared, per se. Joel just doesn’t always bring this dynamic out of the home with him, and it has you feeling more timid than ever over it, even though you do like it. The chance for Joel to show you off, practically in a begging position between his legs, knowing you’re in a skimpy skirt that he loves as it flows out around your hips and onto the floor below you. The thought of these men seeing how much you belong to Joel has arousal starting to pool deep in your belly, swirling lower and lower the more you think about it. Joel’s girl. His pretty little wife. Let them see how good I am to him.

Joel’s hand doesn’t leave your head as they all speak - Rick, Steven, and Pat all doing their best to focus despite the out of the ordinary circumstances. You can’t help but wonder if Joel cares, if he thinks this will affect the way he’s treated by his employees. You start to spiral out, hoping your eyes don’t give away the sudden panic and worry that you’re somehow doing something wrong, making Joel’s life harder by being here. His hand edges down to your chin, unnoticeable to the other men, who have their eyes trained downwards on some blueprints on Joel’s desk as they chatter. He tilts your head slightly off of his thigh, having you look up at him, and he can see the nervous breath hitch in your throat. His eyes go soft and he gives your chin a few gentle strokes of his finger. 

“Good girl,” he mouths, and you melt a little, still not completely rid of the tension. “I love you,” he mouths next, and you find that was the key to the lock, the exact thing you needed from him right now. Of course Joel wouldn’t have you sitting like this if he cared at all what these men thought, if he had any doubts. One thing you knew about Joel was that he wasn’t a man with many doubts, ever. 

You squeeze his calf lovingly and relax again, not failing to notice that Joel’s pants have a prominent bulge just inches from where you’re nuzzling against him. You feel the familiar crawl of arousal in your core again, starting to throb in time with your clit, and you want nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and start riding his cock right now in front of everyone. As if he read your mind yet again, sensing the low, low pooling of heat inside of you,  Joel decides to adjourn the meeting. 

“Hope that answered most of it, but let’s talk tomorrow, hm? Gotta get this pretty girl home soon,” Joel says to them, and to your surprise, they seem much more relaxed, giving out smiles and little chuckles and talking more animatedly with Joel as they wrap their meeting up. You breathe a sigh of relief and say goodbye to them when Joel requests you to, thankful you can be alone with him again. 

As soon as the door to his office clicks shut, Joel shifts in his seat, moving your head off of his lap and replacing it with his own hands. He growls a little, the sound deep and rumbling all the way down to where you’re sitting at his feet, eager to please. His fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it with a fury that you’re not sure you’ve seen from him before, deft fingers undoing it and unzipping his fly in record time.

“Get my cock in your mouth, pretty girl,” he groans, yanking it out of his pants - the tip exposed first, achingly red and dripping with precum. Your mouth salivates, your tongue starts to poke out before you even realize, desperate to lap it onto your tongue and taste him. He fists it in his hand, slapping it against your mouth a few times, looking down at you through hooded eyes.

“No playin’ around, either, no little kitten licks and all that shit - I want this fat cock stuffing your mouth ‘till you’re choking,” he says, his voice a hot heat that licks down your skin like fire, sending a wave of arousal crashing through you. Slickness pools in your underwear, and you rub your thighs together instinctually. You nod, your mind still processing the vulgarity of what he’d said.

“Your words,” he reminds you, and you blink a few times, swallowing hard.

“Yes, o-of course, sir,” you say eagerly, eyes fixed on the bulbous head of his cock, sitting less than an inch from your hungry, salivating lips. 

“Good girl.” Joel lands another gentle stroke on your head, reaching back to grasp at the high ponytail sitting atop your crown, wrapping it around his hand in a few swift tugs. He has complete control, his hand firmly pressing your head to close the gap between your soon to be swollen lips and his cock, and you open wide for him, not wanting him to even have to ask, and he doesn’t fail to notice. 

“Eager girl, so good,” he praises, the end trailing into a groan as he slips past your lips, the immediate taste of him on your tongue more than welcome for you. You hum around his girth, the satisfaction filling your soul instantly as he presses on the back of your head, sending you further and further down his shaft. He hits the back of your throat, and he breathes hard, nearly gasping as you try to swallow him down and gag a bit, but Joel smiles crookedly, loving the sound that makes him feel so big and powerful above you.

“Yeah? Chokin’ on this big cock, are you? Bet you love it,” he purrs, his fingers tightening around your hair in his hand, scratching along your scalp. 

“Mmm,” you hum affirmatively around him. Your mouth is so full, jaw stretched and hurting already and you can scarcely breathe with the angle he’s hitting you at. You bob your head, slowly starting to move yourself faster along his cock, and Joel feels impossibly hard inside your mouth. You nearly moan at the feeling of what you alone do to him, your thighs clamping together under your skirt as you feel your warm center start to ache for him.

“Fuck, pretty thing, so good for me, aren’t you? Suckin’ on me like that at work like the little slut you are,” Joel grunts out, his breathing more erratic now. He’s losing himself completely to you, his head thrown back into the chair, panting as you keep up the quick bobbing of your head. 

You continue to take him in deep thrusts, your eyes watering, saliva pooling all around the base of him and starting to drip. Your hand pumps along what your mouth can’t take and you’re becoming a complete mess, tear stained cheeks and gagging noises that only serve to egg Joel on. 

“Fuck, perfect fuckin’ mouth, let me fuck it.” Joel tugs on your ponytail, trying to pull your head back to hear the two words he needs, the two words you’re desperate to say to him. 

You slide yourself up his shaft in a long, slow stroke before popping the head out of your mouth. You gaze up at him, your eyes completely changed and fucked out already for him, and Joel nearly comes at the sight alone. Your hair is starting to become undone in the way it only does when he fucks you, your lips puffy and overused now, and eyes glassy. It’s a sight to behold, absolutely angelic, and Joel feels only pure adoration for you and gratitude that he’s the only man who can gaze upon this exact view any time he wants. 

“Yes, sir,” you say, lapping his head and waiting for him to make the next move. He bucks his hips into your small licks before he tightens his grip on the back of your head, holding you in place as he slides himself back into your warm mouth. He sighs at the feeling and only moves slowly for a few moments to stand up from his chair before he starts to thrust his hips into your mouth with more vigor. 

It sends you reeling, the speed he’s moving in your mouth now, so unrelenting, taking everything he needs from you as you choke around him and try to swallow him down. You feel the ache between your thighs that has been growing reach an apex, your panties undoubtedly completely soaked through now, needing him to touch you, to find some relief for your neglected, throbbing clit.

“I’m gonna come down that pretty throat,” Joel says among his panting breaths, shoving himself into you with a hearty thrust.

You encourage Joel with a tight suck, trying to flick your tongue underneath his shaft as he moves your head. He groans loudly, and you know he’s close, your hands flying up to claw at his thighs and hold on as he slams himself into you. 

“Yeah little doll, gonna come in you, gonna c-“ Joel cuts himself off with a swift groan of pleasure as he bucks forward, spilling himself deep into your throat as promised, painting your throat white with his spend. He holds you in the position, keeping himself buried deep in your mouth as he comes down, breathing heavily. You feel his fingers slowly relax on your head, dropping your ponytail before he plops back into his chair. When you look up, his eyes are closed, head leaning back, and he looks completely blissed out, making you grin in satisfaction. You take care to tuck him back into his pants and he smiles down at you, peeking an eye open. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, patting his lap. You clamber up onto him, letting him press you against his chest as he wraps you in his arms, kissing the side of your cheek and neck. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, and you grab his hand in yours, bringing it to your mouth. You kiss along each of his knuckles, carefully giving each spot attention before letting his hand drop and putting both of your hands around his neck, scratching up into his hair. He hums contentedly at that, nuzzling himself into your neck.

“You liked everything I did today?” you ask tentatively, knowing what his answer will be, but you can’t help but seek his praise. After a more intense scene together like today, it feels extra good to hear. 

“Mm, I did, m’pretty doll.” He pauses thoughtfully for a moment, his fingers brushing along your back. “Y’know I wouldn’t change you, right? Change any of this? I want ya just as you are.”

“Oh.” You blink and knit your brows a little, nodding. You flick your eyes to his face, seeing that he’s already studying you. “Yeah, I do. Why’re you asking?”

“Jus’ makin’ sure. Too much damn chatter in this office today. All I care ‘bout is you knowin’ you’re my perfect girl.”

You sigh happily and plant a kiss where your head lays on him. “I’m so glad you liked it, I just wanted to do a good job for you.”

Joel makes a low, understanding sound and nods. “Y’did. Bet my baby is all worked up though, isn’t she? Needs a reward for being such a good girl today.”

You practically start to salivate at the words, good girl and reward in the same sentence always seem to lead to glorious things with Joel. You bite the inside of your lip, not sure if you should show him how suddenly eager you are, but a small shift from you in his lap tells him everything he needs to know. He chuckles, low and reverberating across his chest before he grabs your ass, moving you so that you’re straddling his thigh. One hand stays on your ass, and the other comes to cup near your lower belly, the one splayed on your behind starting to push you forward first. His hand on your belly pushes you back, encouraging you to use his thigh while he raptly watches your features screw up into pleasure.

You breathe in shakily at the miniscule amount of pressure on your clit already, immediately tightening around nothing as you start to move yourself in time with his hands as they manipulate you. You feel the build up already of a quickly approaching orgasm, your breath shallowing and erratic now as you quietly moan his name. Your eyes roll back and flutter shut as you grind harder, and just as you feel yourself cresting that sweet cliff into pure bliss, Joel holds tightly to both sides of you, stopping you. You nearly gasp, a frustrated grunt flying past your lips before you can stop it, your hips wiggling but to no avail - you can’ get enough friction now, enough pressure to send you into the pleasurable oblivion you’re craving.

“P-please,” you whine, a sob threatening to break out of your throat as your cunt weeps and aches desperately for him.

“Now…” Joel starts, his lips brushing your neck, beard and mustache tickling you and sending another wave of arousal to your core. “If you’re good jus’ a little longer, do what I say, I’ll give you your reward, mkay?” He talks smoothly and slowly, his words hitting you deep inside as you whimper, trying to grind down on him again, barely able to listen to him through the needy fog clouding your mind.

“C’mon, little doll, know y’want more than jus’ this, comin’ on my leg, don’t you?” He pulls back from your neck and puts a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyebrows raise just slightly in expectation of your answer, and you purse your lips a little but nod. 

“I need it,” you whisper quietly, your face scrunched up slightly in need as you finally still on Joel’s lap. 

“I know y’can do it, doll,” Joel assures you, his hand curling around your face and to the side of your head, smoothing your hair back. 

“Okay… w-what do I need to do for my reward?”

“You’re gonna head on home, I’ll be maybe thirty minutes, an hour behind ya while I wrap up here and sneak out early.” Joel pauses and you watch his face intently, brows twitching to hear the next part of his plan. 

“You’re gonna put on that little blue set with the flowers, you know the one right?”

You nod quickly and mutely for him, lips pressed tightly together, enraptured by his words. You feel your heart fluttering, beating faster already.

“Words, darlin’,” he presses you, and you pop your mouth open. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Lay in bed an’ wait for me jus’ wearing that. No touchin’ yourself, no coming until I get to you, you understand?” Joel thumbs where he holds your chin before squeezing it possessively. 

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl. You do all of that, and you get your reward,” Joel says, a corner of his mouth tugging upwards in satisfaction at the way you’re eating up his words, sitting with baited breath. 

You don’t even have to ask him what the reward might be, knowing Joel, knowing it will be well worth whatever short torture you’ll have to put yourself through while you wait for him. You can’t say some parts of your body seem on board, your pussy still fluttering, slick, and longing for Joel even as you try to accept that you won’t be able to do anything about it for a while yet.

“I can do it,” you tell Joel finally, trying to straighten yourself and exude confidence, rolling your shoulders back. 

“Okay, then. Home now, doll. And do as I said.” Joel gives your ass a firm spanking before releasing you from his lap, letting you slide off. The both of you, unable to help yourselves, quickly glance down to catch a glimpse of the spot on his pants where you’d just been seated, and Joel’s wry expression at the dark, slick stain from you makes you need to take a deep breath, remind yourself of your new mission.

“See you at home,” you say with a stern nod, pulling yourself together. When you leave the office, you have a renewed confidence, nothing like you felt when you’d walked in here earlier to those critical eyes following you. You feel an extra bounce in your step, passing by the secretary who has one of those particular pairs of eyes. You meet her stare as you walk up to where she’s seated, and you adjust your ponytail, knowing it’s quite obviously much more messy than when you’d arrived from Joel’s hands as he’d fucked into your face like it was his salvation.

“Have a great afternoon,” you chirp at her, a genuine smile shot her way as you pass by.

She gives you a faltering smile in return and her words trail after you as you don’t bother to stop on your way to the elevator. “You too…”

You’re patiently waiting, your whole body taut and anxious as you lay back against the pillows of the bed, sighing. You fiddle with the straps of your lingerie, glancing down to make sure everything is sitting just right on your body for Joel when you hear the front door opening in the distance. You smile to yourself devilishly, your heart thumping and skipping in your chest. You listen carefully, wanting to hear the exact moment Joel approaches you after this long, arduous wait. You’d ghosted your fingers over yourself too many times, always stopping yourself at the last minute before you took it too far, not wanting to disappoint Joel. You know that he’d know, somehow. He could tell the minute he walked in the house, you’d bet - your guilt would permeate every room in the house if you’d disobeyed what he’d asked of you.

It left you a nearly shaking mess, vibrating with excitement as you hear Joel milling around downstairs, the refrigerator opening and the familiar sound of a bottle of beer being opened. You frown slightly, wondering if he’s going to keep up your torturous wait for him until you hear him ascending the stairs. You prop one leg up and drape your hands along your thighs, spreading your baby pink manicured fingers across the skin there, cocking your head and glancing towards the door. The bed faces the door and Joel gets an eyeful of you the moment he appears in the frame, his gaze roaming hungrily over you. He leans one arm on the doorframe, beer in the other hand, observing you from afar.

“Were you good?” he asks, taking a long swig from the bottle.

You nod, whispering a yes to him.

“I know, can tell,” he says, not bothering to explain how he’d know, but you believe him.

“Wanted my reward,” you say meekly, shifting your legs restlessly on the bed.

Joel approaches the bed silently, feet moving purposefully lazily underneath him. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing the top of his chest, and your eyes linger there, catching his curls of hair now peeking out of the top. He takes one more swig before he sets the beer on top of your dresser. He shrugs his shirt off and climbs onto the bed, crawling towards you. His heavy, muscled form keeps you in place as he straddles you, bringing his face only inches from yours.

“You try to touch yourself?” he asks with a little more bite to his tone. His lips find the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the tip of your nose as he speaks. 

“A-almost. But I didn’t, I swear,” you say a little too quickly. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Thas’ right,” Joel breathes, inching closer to your lips with softening eyes. “My good little wife.”

He brushes his lips against yours and you shudder and moan, the anticipation that’s been building for hours now nearly at a breaking point. Your hips lift off the bed and Joel moves his hands from where they were bracketing your head to your hips, tight and commanding as he stops you from grinding into him.

He slips away from your face, moving down your body towards your aching heat, observing the lingerie you’re wearing along the way. His mouth brushes along the swell of your breasts covered in the lacy, flowery, sheer fabric. 

“This looks perfect on ya, sweetheart.” He smirks against your skin and sucks, leaving a mark on each breast before he slides his lips down your stomach, stopping before he reaches the apex of your thighs.

You whine quietly to yourself, and Joel continues to take his time, a finger sliding under the strap of your panties. His eyes drift between your legs and his eyebrows raise.

“Babydoll, you’ve been makin’ a mess again,” Joel tuts, making a greedy little sound in the back of his throat. You can feel how wet you are for him, how you had been practically non stop since you’d left his office and somehow made it home, changed into this bra and panties, and laid down in bed, all of it in a strange fog, only able to focus on getting to this point, to Joel.

You crane your head to see what he’s looking at, the dark stain on your underwear, no doubt full of your slick arousal. Your face warms at him looking at it so intently, seeing just how wretchedly desperate you are for him, that this simple promise of a reward could have made you gush and gush for him.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, tracing his finger along the wet spot, leaving you to shudder again with a hitch of your breath. “Is it all for me, hm? All of this?” Joel’s finger slips underneath the fabric, running his finger along your slit and the inside fabric of your panties, gathering up your arousal.

“Mhm, mhm,” you nod eagerly at his teasing, completely intoxicated by him now.

“Tell me,” he demands, circling your clit a few times, and you cry out.

“It’s all yours.” Your eyes squeeze shut and you buck into his light touches, feeling like your entire being is on fire from the inside out, the intensity of need for Joel becoming nearly sickening, like you’d do anything to keep his attention right now. And you know at the end of the day, you would. 

“What is? What’s all mine, little doll?” He speaks so assuredly, so languidly, like he could tease you all day like this and not be bothered. You know he would, too, if that was what would get him off that day, and you shudder to think that could be the case today.

“M-me, my pussy, it’s all yours. Only yours, sir.”

“That’s right. Good girl.” Joel sighs, moving his finger to his mouth and licking it clean in a slow, long stroke. He slowly, tantalizingly pulls your panties down your legs and you feel relief coursing through you that you’re getting that much closer to what you need from him.

Joel takes in the now bare bottom half of your body as he tosses your underwear on the floor. He moves swiftly, grabbing your sides and flipping your body so that you’re straddling his chest and he’s lying underneath you. He begins to pull you forward without a word, inching your aching heat closer to his mouth.

“Better soak my face, y’hear me?” he says before bringing you down and licking a flat, wide stripe up your slit and you cry out.

“Yes!” you call out suddenly, answering his question as you’re overtaken by the warm sensation of his mouth. He knows you so well, knows your body, what you respond to, and he dives right in, flicking his tongue perfectly over your clit a few times, drawing circles over it. You whine, your knees wobbling on either side of his head as you grip the sheets. You can tell you’re already doing exactly what Joel asked of you - there’s what feels like an impossible amount of slickness between your legs, and you can hear the lewd, pornographic sounds as he laps and sucks around your pussy. When his tongue pushes inside of you, you roll your eyes as your hips involuntarily thrust forward into it.

He pulls out for a moment, his breathing heavy against your cunt as he speaks. “What, you wanna fuck my tongue, d’ya, like a dirty little slut?” You nod, forgetting Joel can’t see it, and he tuts. “Answer me, little doll, use your words.”

“Yes, yes, please, let me fuck your face,” you practically sob, your lips going dry as you try to lick them back to life. It’s no use, your mouth drying all over again from the panting breaths Joel is bringing out of you.

“Fuck, dirty thing, such a whore for me, ain’t you?” You feel yourself fluttering around nothing, desperate for him to fill your aching, tightening little hole again.

“Yes, sir, I’m your whore. P-please…” you say, and Joel growls before his tongue pushes back into you, and he gathers your ass in his palms his fingers squeezing both globes tight enough to bruise, and he starts to lift you up and down, controlling the pace that you get to fuck his face. It’s dizzying as you feel him sliding in and out of you, your body bouncing on top of him, completely out of your control.

“F-ff-uck,” you moan, “My - my clit, Joel, I’m so close,” you cry feebly, barely able to get the words out. Joel pushes his nose inward, making sure it’s rubbing your clit each time he snaps your hips back down onto his face.

“Oh, right there, riiight there, yes!” you scream, and Joel goes harder as he senses you tensing up, your cunt pulsating and starting to quiver around his tongue. If anything, he starts to pull your hips down harder each time, and your eyes roll back as you squeeze them shut, your vision going bright white while your entire body responds to the pleasure. You feel your brain go fuzzy and your skin burning with the need for him finally releasing, his name falling from your lips over and over again. 

Joel slows the thrusts a bit at a time, letting you ride the heavenly aftershocks into his mouth until you can barely take it anymore and you find yourself squirming to throw yourself onto the bed next to him. Joel lets you go and you roll over onto your back, panting with your eyes shut.

Joel is instantly on you again, wrapping an arm around your chest and kissing the side of your face. Your body still craves more of him, so you turn to meet his lips, tasting yourself on them and feeling how wet his beard is while it rubs against your skin. It’s igniting something dirty and primal and feral inside of you to have your own arousal on your tongue as it dances into Joel’s mouth. 

His hand drifts to your breast, groping it and sliding a hand underneath your bra, running a thumb over your nipple. You whine when he tugs it harder and roll your body to lay on your side and get closer to him. Your hips start to grind on his leg, already seeking more friction from him again. 

“Need me to fuck this little pussy so bad, huh?” Joel says against your lips, the vibration of his low baritone tickling your bottom lip. 

“Mhm,” you practically whisper, a moan catching in your throat when he shoves a hand between your bodies directly to the apex of your thighs. He brushes his fingers along your overly sensitive clit and you twitch your hips into it. 

“I missed you…” you say quietly as you put your hands to his belt and start to unbuckle it. You don’t even realize how absurd the words are, how short a time you’ve been apart from Joel to be saying that, but it was true. You’d keep Joel in this bed all to yourself if you could, if he never had to leave the house for work. 

“My poor little doll, needin’ me to come fuck her senseless, waitin’ so patiently,” Joel says sympathetically while you work on freeing his cock, sending it slapping out and onto your belly as you press closer to him. He’s irritatingly calm and collected, knowing it’s driving you even madder with need and lust for him. 

He pulls your thigh up over his leg as you lay facing each other, and he presses his cock between your legs, rubbing through your oversensitive folds and enjoying how quickly he’s covered in slick arousal. Your eyes roll back and you whimper, your pussy aching and tender, but needing him inside of you all the same.

He rolls you flat on your back and presses his lips to your neck, sucking gently and flicking his tongue over the little sore spots he’s making. You squirm your hips in search of him, and he grabs under your legs, pulling them up by the knees to wrap around his hips. 

“Please, baby,” you beg, feeling him teasing your entrance, the bulbous head nearly bursting into you, giving you what you want. He retreats, looking down to see you purse your lips and huff out in frustration. 

When he finally pushes his length inside of you, inch by deliciously tortuous inch until you’re full of him and he’s pressing himself against your deepest parts you moan out shakily. 

He moves slowly, dragging his cock in and out of you as you clench and unclench around him. You’re sure that the fluttering you’re doing around his length is making Joel crazy, but he’s not showing it, and you both love and hate just how easily you fall apart for him while he can remain so composed for you. 

“Yeah, that good, baby? That what you wanted? Or you need to be drunk on this cock, have me fuck your tight little hole till it’s all used up?” He pushes down on your shoulders, sinking you down into the mattress as he keeps up his frustratingly slow pace.

“Shit, Joel, use me, please,” you cry out, grasping at the sheets and arching your body into him. He moves suddenly, with a gracefulness and speed you sometimes forget that he has as he throws your legs up over his shoulders and starts to jackhammer into you. 

It’s only then that you see it on his face, the way he falls apart for you, when you freely give yourself to him, tell him to use you. He contorts his face, sweat starting to gleam on his forehead as he ruts into you over and over, sending you bouncing towards the edge of the bed with his rough movements in and out of you. 

Use me use me use me you chant under your breath like a sacred prayer to him, feeling your head starting to go off the side of the bed, hanging down while you lose yourself to Joel’s cock, eyes glazing over and vision swimming. 

“Not so fast, pretty girl,” Joel snips, a hand shooting out to grab at your throat, pressing you further against the side of the bed. You choke out a moan as he squeezes and grunts, simultaneously taking and giving to you in hard, frenzied jerks of his hips. “Can’t b-be gettin’ away from me, gotta let me use this pussy up, ‘member?”

You can’t speak, can’t reply, can barely even think in full words as you feel him fold your body in half further, pressing on the spongy part inside of you every time he pushes inside of you, his balls slapping loudly against your ass with each movement. You can only croak out moaning sobs as the pressure inside of you builds to a burning, aching release. He squeezes your throat harder and you break, crying out in your strangled, little voice as you gush, your entire body shaking uncontrollably underneath him. 

Your cunt spasms so hard around him your hips start to arch, but he urges them back down with his free hand, using it to anchor himself and fuck into you harder, chasing his own high along with yours as your walls squeeze him. You can feel so much of him, every bit of his length fucking into you as you try to milk his orgasm out of him, fluttering repeatedly. 

“T-too much, f-fuck,” you cry out in a rasp, “Joel, fuck me, I’m g-gonna -“ you’re cut off by your own desperate, screeching moan as you soak everything, cumming hard around his cock and squirting, covering Joel’s jeans, the sheets, everything. You shudder as you come down and feel Joel still jacking himself off furiously inside your tight, spent cunt, grunting and cursing. 

“So fuckin’ messy, fuckin’ filthy ain’t you, doll,” Joel mumbles as he slams into you with a few hard thrusts. He groans long and low before shoving himself as deep as he can, releasing your throat and spilling himself, claiming you as he paints your walls with his cum. 

You’re gasping for air from the intensity of everything, slick with sweat all over and your combined spends between your legs as Joel pulls out and immediately gathers you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. 

“Sweet little doll,” he mumbles, his lips ghosting across your hairline. “You’re good?”

“God, yes,” you breathe out confidently, barely able to open your eyes except to peek at Joel’s concerned eyes settling back into satisfaction as he runs his fingers down your bare arm, goosebumps cropping up at his touch. You shiver a little as your sweat starts to dry and Joel pulls you in even tighter, nuzzling your neck. 

“You were such a good girl today, y’know that?” Joel says softly as he attaches his lips to the skin underneath your jawline. 

“I was?” you ask shyly, popping your eyes open to look at him in questioning. 

“Mm, of course, thank you for helpin’ me today.” Joel moves so the two of you are propped up on the pillows, legs stretched down the bed and intertwined together. “Never would take you for granted - the lunches, the sweet girl I got, y’know all that?”

“I know, I know,” you say soothingly, cupping your hand around his cheek. “You give me everything, Joel, it’s the least I could do.”

“I'm gonna have to argue and say you do that, do everythin’,” Joel says, a half smile tugging the corner of his lips as his eyes sparkle mischievously now. You pinch his nose and squeeze it, scrunching your face at him in disapproval.

“Agree to disagree?” you say, one of your phrases for when you know that it’ll be a completely fruitless faux argument, that neither one of you will admit that the other is the more perfect spouse. You know deep down that it isn’t even close to the point anyways, that the only thing that matters is how perfect you both feel being together. Your heart warms along with your body as you feel your husband so close, exhaustion overtaking you from the roller coaster of a day you’d had with him and your eyes flutter shut again. 

“Agree to disagree, darlin’.” Joel sighs, tilting your face up to his. 

He kisses you, and the thought flashes through your mind that you’d never choose it to be any other way, any other person in the entire world to make you feel this giddy, this desired, this… like yourself. 

taglist: @aphterthoughtt @bbyanarchist @amy172 @hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito @msmorningstaarr @kamcrazy123 @madhere @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups

(sorry i haven't been updating as much to everyone who reads my stories, i've been going through a lot of insecurity lately and it's been hard for me to be inspired when i'm comparing myself to others or just being an insecure mess so anyway ty for bearing with me)

#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #x reader

[flowersandbigteeth]

I really liked Orion and was wondering if you could write about him kidnapping reader.

(Sfw please)

I've been wanting to do something soft 🥹

Orc (Orion) x fem reader

Word Count: 3k

W: kidnapping, some creepy behavior, light violence, and some kissing, sfw fluff

Find the previous part here

You stretched your shoulders as you glanced at the clock on the wall. It was finally 6 and time to head home from your job as a dental assistant. It had been a long day of coaxing little kids to open their mouths for X-rays and calming the poor children that hated the dentist, but you had some leftover Chinese food in the fridge that you were in a hurry to get home and devour. Unless, of course, you got your usual visitor. 

“Hey, (Y/N), I saw you walking home from work the other day,” your boss and one of the pediatric dentists, Aaron, mentioned as the two of you collected your things. “I can give you a ride home if you want.” 

Aaron seemed like a nice guy, but you didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness. 

“I’m okay,” you said. “I walk home everyday. It’s good for my health.” 

He frowned, seeming put out at your refusal. 

“Come on, let me drive you,” he pushed. “It’s dangerous for you to walk alone in the evening. I’d feel terrible if something happened to you.” 

You gave him a smile and waved away his concerns. 

“Really, I’m fine,” you said, but Aaron wasn’t happy with that answer. 

“There have been a string of muggings on your street,” he insisted. “Come on, let me give you a ride. I’m just concerned about your safety.” 

You were sure you didn’t need a ride, but Aaron seemed insistent and you didn’t want to sour your work relationship by appearing ungrateful for his friendly concern. 

“Okay,” you finally agreed, exhausted from a long day and not feeling like fighting with him. 

He brightened up at that and seemed giddy to lead you to his car. 

Aaron drove an expensive sports car, which he was eager to show off. 

“What do you think?” he asked you, demonstrating the heated seats and dynamic driving features. 

You had absolutely no interest in cars, so you just nodded politely until he was done and pulled out of the parking lot. He put on some music and you leaned back into the comfortable seat, trying to enjoy the ride. It was nice to be off of your feet after a long day’s work, even though you felt uneasy sitting next to Aaron. You rested your eyes for just a moment but when you opened them, it seemed like Aaron wasn’t going in the direction of your house. 

“I think you’re going the wrong way,” you informed him and he gave you an easy smile. 

“I know,” he said. “I figured you’d be hungry so I’m taking us to one of my favorite spots.” 

You frowned, not sure what to say. 

“I really can’t afford to eat out, Aaron,” you said, trying to figure out how to politely turn him down. “I have some leftovers at home…” 

He shook your concerns away. 

“Don’t worry about it. Dinner’s on me,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to have some time alone with you so we can really talk. We work together, but I feel like I hardly know you.” 

His words made your stomach twist. He wanted to have time alone with you? Aaron was good-looking enough, he had blonde hair, blue eyes, and was quite tall, but you weren’t interested in getting to know him beyond casual chatter around the office. 

“You really don’t have to do this,” you tried to argue, but he wasn’t listening, instead tapping the steering wheel with his fingers and humming along to the song on the radio. 

While your thoughts churned over how to get him to take you home, your phone buzzed. 

Where are you? 

It was your friend Orion. Since you’d met him out with your friends one night, he’d been coming by a lot. Instead of going out on another tour with the mercenary group he had worked for, he took a private security job in the city and often stopped by your house for coffee or meals. 

You had a huge crush on him. Who wouldn’t? He was enormous, with verdant skin and an arm full of sexy tattoos. His face was the picture of rugged masculinity. His jaw had sharp planes and his tusks were white and shiny.  Since he wasn’t with the merc group anymore, he’d let his hair grow out a little longer and it was always messy in a way that gave you post-sex hair vibes. You weren’t a particularly good flirt, but you tried your best to show him you were interested with little touches here and there. 

It was hard to tell how he felt about you. He was very protective, but he wasn’t pushy like other guys you’d been with. Every time he came over he was incredibly polite. You’d watch movies together or make him dinner, but he never tried to kiss you or touch you more than casually. You were desperate for his kiss, but too shy to make a move. What if he just wanted to be friends? It would be humiliating. Plus he wouldn’t come over anymore if you made things weird and you didn’t want that. You’d gotten used to having dinner with him at least three times a week if he wasn’t working. You’d even started stocking extra food because he ate a lot. 

My boss is taking me to dinner. 

He didn’t answer right away, instead, you watched the dots showing he was typing flash for a few moments before he finally responded.

Where? 

You glanced up at Aaron to find him looking at you. 

“Who’s that?” he asked, his thin lips curving into a frown. 

“Oh, just a friend,” you replied. “So where are you taking me? I’m starving.” 

He seemed pleased you were interested in where you were going and brightened up. 

“The Whisk and Ladle,” he said. “It’s a great place. You’ll love it.” 

You balked when he said the name. 

“Aaron, that’s expensive!” you gasped. “I’m not really dressed for-” 

You were still wearing the scrubs you wore to work, printed with little mice wearing sunglasses. You were dressed to work with children, not go to a five-star restaurant. Again, he waved your concerns away. 

“Nonsense,” he said. “You always look beautiful. Let me treat you.” 

You nodded, quietly, feeling more and more uncomfortable the closer you got to the restaurant. If you’d have been a tougher woman, you’d have made a fuss, demanded he take you home or jump out of the car, but you were worried about losing your job. Money was tight and you didn’t have any savings to float you until you found something else. You needed to make Aaron happy so he wouldn’t find some excuse to get rid of you. 

After a few minutes, you texted Orion the name. Some little part of you wished he would come to save you from what was about to be an extremely awkward dinner, but you were sure he’d never do that. From what you knew of him, he was strong but an extremely measured orc. You never saw him upset or out of control. 

When you arrived, Aaron was sure to help you out of the car, and as you walked inside he had his hand on your lower back until it slipped down to cup your bottom. Instinctively you took a step away, but he didn’t seem to notice as he spoke with the hostess. Weirdly, he had a reservation, as if he’d planned this date long before he offered to give you a ride home. 

You were seated at a pretty table with a white tablecloth and a small centerpiece of roses, which was very pretty but entirely too formal for your liking. Looking over the menu, your mouth fell open at the prices. A Cobb salad was $30! 

“Get whatever you like,” Aaron said, smiling at you from across the table, “it’s on me.” 

You gave him a tight nod, trying to force a polite smile on your face, but the idea of him spending this much money on you made you uncomfortable. When the waiter arrived, you ordered the cheapest thing available and water. He took your menus, and Aaron turned his attention to you. 

“I’m thrilled you decided to join me, (Y/N),” he said as if he hadn’t set all of this up without your knowledge beforehand. “I’ve always admired you. You’re incredibly beautiful.” 

“Uh…thanks, I guess,” you murmured, wishing you were anywhere but there. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, leaning in to get closer to you. 

“Sure,” you said. 

He gave you a conspiratorial smile. 

“I always intended on asking you out. That’s why I hired you,” he explained. “I love coming to work every day and seeing you.” 

You immediately frowned. While you were sure he intended that to be flattering, it was incredibly creepy. He hadn’t hired you for your experience? He just wanted to date you? 

You were thinking of something to say when there was a commotion at the front of the restaurant. 

“Sir! You can’t come in without a reservation!” the hostess was yelling and to your surprise, Orion was marching across the dining room looking pissed off. His dark eyes immediately found yours, and you hoped he read the relief in them. 

“Orion!” you gasped, looking up at him. 

He glanced away, glaring at Aaron. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron said, indignant. “You’re interrupting our dinner.” 

Orion ignored Aaron and turned his intense gaze back to you. Your heart skipped in your chest, and your cheeks burned. The look in his eyes was a mixture of ravenous hunger and complete outrage. 

“Did you agree to this dinner?” he snapped, and your mouth went dry. 

Unable to form words, you quickly shook your head with a tight jerk. 

“He just brought me here,” you finally managed to squeak out. “I-I wasn’t planning on-”

He cut you off raising a large hand, looking back at Aaron. 

“You kidnapped my woman,” he snarled. 

Your eyes popped at the words “my woman.” Did Orion consider you his? 

Aaron shrank under Orion’s gaze. 

“I-I would hardly say kidnapped…” he stammered. 

Orion growled. 

“Did he touch you?” he asked. 

You tried to lie and say he hadn’t, but your face told him something different. 

“It was just a little touch,” you peeped when it was obvious he could tell the little shake of your head that you gave him was an untruth. 

Before you could finish the last word, Orion clocked Aaron in the jaw with his meaty fist. His chair toppled over and he lay sprawled out on the floor, unconscious. 

“Orion!” you squealed again, but he wasn’t listening. 

He scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, marching back out of the restaurant while all the guests watched in shock. The waiters and the hostess jumped out of his way as he passed. 

“Orion! What are you doing?” you asked as you bounced on his shoulder. 

Instead of answering, his chest rumbled with a deep noise that released butterflies in your stomach. 

He opened the passenger door to his truck and carefully set you inside, buckling the seatbelt over your chest before he shut the door. Then he hopped in the driver’s side and peeled out of the parking lot. 

You stared at your friend, eyes as big as saucers as he drove through the darkening city. 

“Why did you do that?” you questioned. “You could get in big trouble! He might get you arrested!” 

He snorted. 

“For protecting my mate from her sexually harassing boss? Doubt it.”

You blinked at him. Mate?

There were different rules for the Fairyfolk when it came to mates. They defended them so fiercely a new set of laws had to be drawn up to protect this “cultural difference.” Every human knew not to touch a Fairyfolk’s mate. You shook your head, trying to sort through what was happening. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, as he was not going in the direction of your house. 

“Home,” he said. 

You blinked at him. 

“My apartment is the opposite way,” you argued, but he just pinned you with a look. 

You drew your brow and crossed your arms, pouting. 

“Orion! Why aren’t you talking to me?” you asked. 

His face softened, and he twisted his hands on the steering wheel, taking a big breath before he answered you. 

“I don’t like that he touched you,” he said. “No one touches you but me. You’re mine.” 

Your mouth fell open just a bit before you forced it closed, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Yours?” you asked and he nodded curtly.   

“B-but…you never said…” you stammered. 

“Not good with words,” he grunted. 

“Oh,” you said, your mouth forming a surprised O shape. 

You turned away from him, looking out the front windshield at the darkening city slipping by. 

“Where is home?” you asked. 

“You’ll see,” was all he would say. 

You folded your legs under your body and leaned your head against the window, tired. Your heart was pounding and a slight tremor left you vibrating against the seat. Where could Orion be taking you?

At some point you must have dozed off because when you woke the truck had come to a stop and Orion was opening your door. 

“Where are we?” you murmured, your words a bit slurred from sleep. 

He unbuckled your seatbelt and took you in his arms. 

“Home,” he said. 

You peered through the darkness to find you were no longer in the city, but on one of the mountains that surrounded it. Over your shoulder you could see the city lights twinkling in the valley like stars. In front of you there was a beautiful cabin home. It was two stories with full pane glass windows and a wrap-around porch. 

“This is where you live?” you gasped. 

You’d always assumed Orion had some flat in the city just like yours. 

“It is where you live, too,” he corrected. 

Your eyes widened on him as he took you up the front steps and unlocked the door. 

“I can’t live here!” you argued. “I’m too far away from work!” 

He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. 

“You will not go back to work,” he told you, setting you on the couch and turning his back to you so he could put fuel in the woodstove. 

“But…how will I make money?” you asked. 

“You don’t need money,” he said. “I have plenty of it.” 

“But…but…” you stammered, trying to wrap your head around the situation. 

Was Orion claiming you? Did you want to be claimed? 

The door of the woodstove clanged shut and he spun around, his smokey eyes on you. He lowered himself to his knees in front of you so you were eye to eye. 

“I’m not sure I understand-” you started to say, but were silenced with his lips slanting over yours. 

Your whole world swung upside down as he kissed you. Electricity shot down your spine, energy sparkling at the apex of your thighs. You breathed a wispy sigh into his mouth and the large fingers of one hand clutched the nape of your neck, holding you to him. This was the kiss you’d been desperately pining for and it was more than you could have ever imagined. 

When he pulled away, he pinned you with his inky gaze. 

“You’re mine, got it?” he rumbled. 

You whimpered and nodded, your thoughts muddled and his rich, spicy scent filling your lungs. He pulled you to him again, this time his kiss was more hungry and needy. You felt his smooth tusks against your cheek and his stiff tongue licking your bottom lip, wanting entrance. You parted your lips for him, letting him explore. He licked and tasted you while your fingers dared to creep up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle underneath his shirt. At your touch, he let out a deep rolling sound. 

Though Orion was eager to get your clothes off of you, he knew you were delicate, both inside and out. He adored your soft spirit and vowed never to crush it, so instead of taking you to bed and ravishing you, he rose to get comfortable on the big couch, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around your warm body. He smoothed his large hand over your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

He lamented waiting far too long to claim you, not wanting to frighten you and scare you away, but he couldn’t tolerate some other male hovering around. You belonged to him whether you knew it or not and it was well past time to claim you for his own. 

Completely oblivious to these thoughts, you sighed into his chest, listening to the gentle boom of his heartbeat, and feeling like you’d come home. 

#monster x girl #orc x reader #monster x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #soft yandere #orc boyfriend #monster romance #monster fluff #male yandere #yandere fluff #yandere romance #monster boyfriend #yandere male #monster lover

[somewhereinneptune]

Astrology Observations II

Note : these are based on experiences and personal observations. Observations mentioned may not accurately apply to everyone 🩷

🫀Someone's life path number could be the number which is strongly tied to that person's signature sign in their chart, either being the number of the house that originally rules their signature sign or a characteristic that is tied with that signature sign.

Examples: My signature sign is Aquarius and I'm a life path number 9 , life Path 9 is associated with being the humanitarian and serving the collective

My mother is a life path 3 and her signature sign is Gemini , which is originally ruled by the 3rd house. My brother is a life path 6 and his signature sign is Virgo, which is Virgo’s house. I also read about life path 4 being strategists and I've known someone who's signature sign is Capricorn which corresponds with such energy

🫀Unpopular opinion but if I had to switch the signs elements, I'd put Scorpio as a fire sign and Aquarius as a water sign. With Scorpio it's probably because it was originally ruled by Mars, Scorpio always gives me such a fire energy compared to Pisces and Cancer. Not exactly Scorpio sun but dominating Scorpio energy in the chart, i think it's also the intensity they ooze and the level of confidence and also self- assertion, they have such a commanding presence which gives me fire energy too

As for Aquarius, despite having the characteristics of being quite distant at times or having difficulty with opening up, it's usually for how intense they are, it's a form of protection. I've made the mistake in the past of seeing aquas as detached until they actually unfolded which shocked me, the amount of depth and intensity of emotions they hold is a 360 and I've observed the same in my chart. It might be due to them being a fixed sign,but definitely that depth doesn't give the air sign vibe. Another reason is how they tend to be more introverted or reserved compared to Gemini and Libra, it gives me that water energy too

🫀Chiron in first is such a difficult placement in my opinion. It either puts you in a constant self - conscious state or you project your trauma on every situation and blur reality from there

🫀Uranus and Neptune in third 🤝 mental illness. That's it, that's the post

🫀Pets and the 6th house man….Aries / Taurus on the cusp is a cuddly adorable pet but one that will literally not do what you say no matter what, also energetic asf and has attitude esp when you say no to them- oh and very reckless, will do things that will have you question your life choices and have a heart attack on the spot because they were curious about something like jump off a high desk and not care or run into something that would harm them, literally no brain cells just impulse

🫀The degree of the planet could indicate the age that planet unlocks for you , and weird thought but hear me out : that degree could stretch up until it's time for the next planet to unlock

Example : I have Jupiter at 24 and I'm turning 25 this May . Yes I've been in my Jupiter theme and actually it seems it's only going to properly expand even more. Now the only planet left for me is Saturn at 29, and I have the theory i’d be living the Jupiter theme until I turn 29 or untill I officially start my Saturn return

I  also have most planets at 5 too like Uranus , and Venus and Neptune at 1 : i was literally the calm kid that has a crush each time she gets (and sometimes is front about it without shame 😭😭 literally one time in second grade my crush's tummy was in pain and the teacher asked who knows their house to help them go home and i stood and said MEEEE in front of everyone and kept asking to be the one to take them home til i got yelled at 💀) i also had 4687357766 anime crushes as a kid and for Uranus , was the type to get mad and throw things on the ground when told no (I threw my tea mug once cause i didn't wanna go to school and slapped my kindergarten teacher cause she didn't let me go home with mom when i saw her visiting the principal 😭😭😭)

🫀Saturn in Aries 🤝 almost dying of cringe and shame at the thought of acting child - like and doing goofy stuff/ having fun

🫀 this is popular but Leo placements and secretly checking your own posts and stories and giggling at them lmao

#somewhereinneptune #aquarius #leo #sagittarius #scorpio #astrology observations #astrological posts #astrology notes #astrology #astroblr #astrotips #gemini #saturn #uranus #life path #6th house

[nonsensical-pixels]

MY WEDDING TRAUMA: A SURELY-SIMS x ICE-CREAMFORBREAKFAST COLLABORATION, CONVERTED TO THE SIMS 2 [download - 👰🏽🤵🏽]

are you tired of brides in white dresses and toddlers with perfect pink flower baskets? is cereal packet gameplay just not doing it for you anymore? maybe you'd like your weddings to put the 'strange' in strangetown? search no more, the ingredients for the strangest wedding in sim nation are finally here!

so, since i caught that one virus, i've been playing around a bit more with ts2 cc creation and finally had the time to work on converting a big set again. but then... what to convert? the answer came to me in the links section of a random lookbook... in a sort of fever dream. a set that captures the recent theme on my blog, families, and yet completely destroys it at the same time: my wedding trauma.

everything here is remarkably versatile. i mean, i know for a fact that people aren't just going to use that jumpsuit for a wedding, elvis needs more freedom than that! there are 9 cas items and 6 buy items for a total of 17 items in this set!

the original ts4 collaboration is complete perfection; it has just the sort of trashy, nonsensical vibes that the ts2 wedding department is sorely lacking. my conversion of this isn't perfect, i'm still learning how to do clothing and there are some minor issues mentioned below the cut, but overall i think that it came out pretty good and i hope it invokes some chaos in your game. 💥

credits go to @ice-creamforbreakfast for most of the cas part of this collaboration, and to @surely-sims for the buy mode part!

keep reading for more info, rambles, and preview pics!

PART 1: BUY MODE (6 items by @surely-sims)

ITEMS INCLUDED ARE: 1 - Fancy Folding Chair - 1.7k polys 2 - Margarita Tower - 3.4k polys 3 - Pizza Party Banquet Table - 1.5k polys 4 - Tiki Mug - 1.7k polys 5 - Toasting Bucket - 2.3k polys 6 - Wedding Arch - 10.2k polys*

individual previews are also to be found in the download!

THINGS TO NOTE: - The wedding arch is quite high-poly compared to other objects (10k) but that is the max for the polycounts. - The collection file included in the 'Surely-Sims' folder should go in the Collections folder in Documents.

PART 2: CAS (8 items by @ice-creamforbreakfast and 1 by @surely-sims)

ITEMS INCLUDED ARE: 1 - Brandi Dress (YF-AF) - 3.9k polys 2 - Elvis Glasses (TU-EU) - 1.7k polys 3 - Elvis Jumpsuit (YM-AM) - 4.9k polys 4 - Goopy Jacket (TM-AM) - 2.3k polys 5 - Jess Hair (YF-EF) - 5.4k polys 6 - Kelly-Marie Hair (TF-EF) - 9.4k polys 7 - Malborough Dress (YF-AF) - 7.1k polys 8 - Newport Headpiece (YF-AF) 9 - Trashleen's Cigarette Bouquet (YF-EF) note: the Jess Hair is not part of the original set but is included because the Newport Headpiece is meant to pair with it.

individual previews are also to be found in the download!

THINGS TO NOTE: - The clothing may have some bone assignment issues (especially with straps) & mild gaps. - The 'Goopy Jacket' has a mild discoloration around the neckline. - All hairs are in @skittlessims Skittles Hair System - The 'Elvis Jumpsuit' is paired with 4t2 SP01 Pointed Stud. Converted by me :) - The 'Malborough Dress' is paired with Ice-CreamForBreakfast's Jessica Shoes.

PART 3: THANKS & RAMBLE

have one final pic of the quirky couple and their patchwork family (ex-wife and dog included) 💞

this set was such a rollercoaster to work on, but also so, so much fun! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do 🥺

for anyone who's wondering--yeah i'm back for now, requests are still closed, wips depend on whether im in the mood... but from now on releases should be less queued and have a more 'personal touch' 😏

i'll get around to posting the discord-exclusives i released while i was gone... eventually. there's a few that i'm keeping for myself x

anyway... happy simming, hope you enjoy these conversions, and have a lovely day simming! if you use these feel free to @ me, i wanna see the chaos and the cool stuff these are used in 🥰

love,

~ Ky (nonsensical-pixels)

#s2cc #sims 2 cc #the sims 2 #sims 2 download #ts2 #the sims 2 cc #ts2 download #4t2 #4t2 conversion #4t2 buy #4t2 cas #long post

[oddballwriter]

🙏 gn/fem reader who has a tattoo of an ahnk on her chest and arm tattoos of astrological symbols or like more egyptian tattoos who visits the museum with a group of friends and steven just drools at her existence lol

Living Art

Summary: Working in the gift shop doesn't really earn you any points in talking to people, that's something that Steven's learned the hard way. But that doesn't mean that there aren't some cases that happen once in a while.

Warnings: It's mentioned that the reader does some of their own tattoos using the stick-and-poke method. Steven is shy but very much into the reader. The reader's gender and pronouns are never mentioned but Steven does refer to the ready is pretty so take that as you will. Mention of alcohol and getting drunk but no consumption actually happens. If I'm missing something don't be afraid to tell me.

Author’s Snip: I'm sorry that this took such a long time. I've been out of motivation to write and also recently started my spring semester. So I hope you will still like it.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 954

Working at the gift shop didn't really make way for meaningful talks with people. Steven has learned that through many one-way conversations with people who come in. But he'd be lying if he said that he ever really stopped wishing for a moment to chat with someone who would listen and talk back. Unfortunately, that person only exists in Steven's daydream it seems.

That is until one day a group of museum-goers come walking in chattering amongst themselves. Steven looks at them for a brief moment just to get a count of them before looking off somewhere else until he hears a voice go "Oh..." in a disappointed cringing manner. Steven glances back and sees you staring at a mug on display. He knows which one it is. It's that one mug that has hieroglyphics on it that are random and translate to literal gibberish. He remembers himself cringing at its existence.

Your friends join in and laugh at your explanation of why this mug has you scrunching your nose in disapproval. "Does it say something dumb?" one of them asks, to which you respond with "No. It doesn't say anything. That's why I hate it.". Your friends laugh some more and move on with their browsing around while one stays with you for a moment to say "You should buy it and put it in your collection of stupid stuff.". You nod but say "I'm thinking about it but in all honestly this thing is kinda ugly.". It is, the graphics look horrible and Steven is so happy that some else can see that.

After a while of walking around, and grabbing a plush that also got a chuckle out of you, you make your way to Steven at the counter. Now that he's getting a closer look at you, you're very pretty. As he looks you over quickly so as to not be caught by you he notices something else.

The shirt you have on gives a sensible show of your chest and arms and along them are various Egyptian and astrological symbols tattooed on your skin. Steven can name practically all of them with his brief scan of your body. He manages to catch you saying something to him.

"How's your day going?" you ask. He blinks off his stun and answers with a shrugged "Alright. Same work day as all the others. You know?". You nod in response. "I bet you get kids in here all the time." you say, "They always want to leave a shop with something." you laugh. Steven gives a small laugh back as he thinks about all the times a kid came in begging for something. "They usually leave with a toy or one of those little books for kids," Steven says before glancing at the little plush you're buying, "This one is actually really popular. They're usually all gone by the end of the day." he mentions as he takes a look at it himself. "They are pretty cute." you reply, "They're also kind of silly. These figures in Egyptian mythos just being little stuffed dolls that you just have around.". Steven laughs at the thought.

Steven starts to scan the items and he can't help but instinctively cringe a little when holding and looking at the mug. You seem to notice and snicker. "Sorry," Steven apologizes, "But as someone who knows hieroglyphics this thing is awful," he explains.

"It doesn't even translate to anything." you both say in unison. You both smile at the commonality in your opinions on the mug, with Steven maybe feeling a little flutter in his stomach.

"The only reason I'm getting it is because I like to collect novelties that are dumb," you explain. "What about the plush?" Steven questions having thought that the plush was quite endearing. "The plush is dumb in a cute way. The mug is just dumb and I feel like it will fit right in with all the other stupid things I have." you explain. "Well, I'd love to see that collection," Steven comments. "It's actually a really nice talking piece. People like hearing about all the stuff in it." you mention.

Steven nods and as he does he takes a look at a few of your tattoos. You catch it this time and smile, "Do you like them?" you ask. "I think they're lovely," Steven confirms, "Where do you get them done?" Steven questions. There's no reason for him to ask, it's not like he has the guts to get a tattoo himself but he's finally getting that conversation that he's been yearning for. "My friend actually does them. She's a tattoo artist and she secretly give me a discount for some favors like getting her food or doing something for her." you mention, "Some of these are by me though. Sometimes I get drunk and bored at home and just grab a needle and pen ink." you add as you point to a few.

"You tattoo yourself?" Steven gasps. "Don't worry. I'm drunk enough to not really feel anything but still sober enough to clean the area and not have it look terrible," you tell him. "If you ever want a tattoo but not the whole commitment, give me a call. I'll give you as much alcohol as you need." you say with a wink. Steven blushes and bites back an ear-to-ear smile.

You both hear the clearing of a throat behind you. When you both take a look you see your friends standing in line right behind you looking on with looks varying between smug and done with overhearing the back and forth. "Just give him your number already so we can buy our shit." one of them speaks up.

Taglist:

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (applications open)

#moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight #moonknight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #oscar issac characters

[ashesofivory]

HIS SUNSHINE - PART 2/2 ☀️

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javier Peña is everything but a perfect man- he knows, but he’ll never admit his biggest regret amongst all, was losing you.

Word count: 2.9K

Warnings: mentions of smut, heartbreak, mild angst, regrets, breakup, both points of view, general sadness, sad ending.

He had you so close, but at the same time, so far away.

A/N: Sorry for not uploading sooner! I've been quite busy with a lot of stuff recently, I've written this in the few little breaks I have had, I promise. Also, I've had a rough time writing this, because I didn't want to see sad/heartbroken Javi. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it as much as you can. 💌

<< previous

With slow and shaking steps, you felt your heart break slowly, knowing that, as hard as you tried, you wouldn’t be able to fix it. Maybe it was all a mistake? Maybe you should try and stay here, probably quit the job and find a new one… But deep down, you knew you couldn’t convince yourself, it was too late to go back, and you didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

You finally left his apartment, your cheeks wet and shiny from your tears, which were still making their way down your face as you got in your car, to drive to your place for the last time.

After a hard time trying to open the door with your shaky, slippery hands, you managed to open it, being welcomed by the cold atmosphere of your apartment, almost empty by this point. you went ahead and started packaging the few things you had left lying around; toiletries, phone and laptop chargers, and photos.

Who would have thought something as simple as some polaroids and cheap frames would be the last straw? There were photos of your family, both recent and old, photos of you as a baby, taking a soapy bath, or on your 4th birthday, with cake all over your face, a bright, shiny smile on your face; but lastly, of course, there were photos of you and Javier, doing all kinds of things. Like a photo of you two on his desk, cocking an eyebrow at the camera, back to back, your arms crossed over your chest. Another one in which he has an arm wrapped around your waist, you looking away with a smile on your face, all red and flustered. For sure, happy memories, but at that moment, they felt bitter, sour even, because you knew that from now on, they'd become distant memories, which would probably end up in a box, at the end of a closet, in a dark, dusty corner.

You placed all the photos inside a box, along with some bubble wrap, and wrote "PHOTOS" on it, closing it with some tape, so that they would be safe in the moving process. You did the same with the rest of the boxes, the end result being over 20 boxes with your stuff by your front door. You took a minute to think to yourself. "How could 7 years fit in some cardboard boxes? How was it so simple?" you asked yourself.

However, there was a box on top of the kitchen isle, with an address written on it, one you knew perfectly, Javi's apartment. His name written in capital letters on one of the sides, in black Sharpie. You took one last glimpse inside of it; some of his clothes, which he had left in your apartment after spending the night, some mugs that he liked from your kitchen, the ones he used to drink coffee in, some of his favorite vinyls from your collection, which you two used to dance and sing to when you cooked dinner, or even some dried flowers from the first bouquet he gifted you. There were also work-related things, mostly files from the Medellin Cartel case, and some post-its that you had written, with special annotations about the case, hypothesis, ideas, suspicions...

Once you were finished, you closed the box again and head straight to bed, getting under the cold bed sheets, a slight hint of Javier's perfume on them, making you tear up a bit, but eventually, becoming comforting enough to turn it into a velvety smell, calming you down, taking you back to the good times you had spent together, in company, loving and feeling loved. Before you closed your eyes, you swore you heard Javier's faint, deep voice, wishing you "buenas noches", as he usually did.

✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, shutting it down immediately, groaning a bit, annoyed to wake up, as usual. You knew there was no turning back now, your plane would take off in a few hours, leaving what you called your life for almost a decade behind. You took a deep breath, and sat up in bed, taking your surroundings, your bedroom, for the last time, all the memories flooding your mind; when you moved in, unpacking your stuff, painting the walls… making the place truly yours. A pained smile appeared on your face when another kind of memories appeared in your mind, the ones you had shared with Javier; when he made you see the stars every night he laid on your bed, little marks on the wall due to the bed hitting the wall slightly when you had sex, when you made love to each other, when you had to change your bedframe because you managed to break the planks under it that one time you drank too much red wine, leading to hearty laughs and giggles.

But you knew it was too late. Too late to go back, so you got out of bed, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. You got dressed and zipped up your bags and suitcases, taking one last look around the cold, empty apartment, in case you were forgetting something, which you weren't. It seemed like you were just using it as an excuse not to go, to miss your flight, giving you more time to think about your options. Because there had to be another option, another possibility that allowed you to stay here, in Colombia, where you belonged, where your heart desired to be, with Javier.

You checked the time, and of course, you were running late. Typical you. Javier would probably comment on it, teasing you about the disaster that you are, nudging you with his elbow, a smug smirk on your face. You laughed quietly to yourself, making your way out of the apartment, to your car, loading the boxes into your trunk, one after another. You couldn't help but wonder, "Where was the box that kept your heart?".

As you drove to the airport, on the other side of the city, Javier thought he'd start to miss you a bit later on. But he was wrong. The moment he got in his car and sat on the driver's seat, his hand moved to the copilot's seat, looking for your thigh, to grab and caress it, writing his whole name letter by letter with his index finger on your soft, delicate skin. He turned on the radio, to try and focus on something else, but that only made it worse. He swore he could hear you sing and dance in your seat at the song that was playing on the radio, even if you didn't know the lyrics to it. That managed to get a sweet chuckle out of him, with then turned to a sad, heavy sigh. This was just the start of the day, how would he make it through it without crumbling down?

At the office, the first thing he noticed was your empty desk. He could still feel you around, your smell filling his nostrils as he closed his eyes, the sound of your heels echoing around. But it was all fake. You were gone, until further notice, as much as it hurt him deeply. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, walking away from what once was your desk, to his, sitting down on his chair, hoping Pablo Escobar would soothe his pain.

As you arrived at the airport, you parked your car and made your way to the check-in counter. The process was mechanical, and you found yourself going through the motions without really registering what was happening. Once you were through security, you found a quiet spot in the airport lounge and sat down, gazing out at the planes on the tarmac.

Minutes turned into hours, and soon it was time to board your flight. Taking one last look at the airport, you boarded the plane, found your seat, and buckled up. As the plane taxied down the runway, you closed your eyes, trying to make peace with your decision.

The flight was long, and your mind wandered back to the last few months. The highs and lows of your relationship with Javier, the moments of joy and the moments of heartbreak. You knew deep down that leaving was the right choice for you, but that didn't make it any easier.

After a few hours, you boarded into Buenos Aires, Argentina, your hometown, the place where you had grown up and where your whole family lived. You got off the plane and walked to get your bags and suitcases. At the airport, your family was waiting for you- your mother, your father, and your brother, with his little daughter, your niece, in his arms. They welcomed you with a warm, big hug and a few tears. You were so grateful to have them, and you were sure that they'd help you go through your pain and hard decisions, supporting you all the way, showing their care and love for you, as they always have done.

As you left the airport, driving back home with your family, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and sadness. Relief that you had your family's embrace to lean on during this difficult time, but sadness for the void left by Javier's absence. The city of Buenos Aires welcomed you with its lively streets, the nostalgic melodies of tango, and the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals. It felt both foreign and familiar at the same time.

Over the next few weeks, you settled back into life in Buenos Aires. Your family provided a comforting and supportive environment, helping to distract you from the ache in your heart. They did their best to make you feel at home, reminding you of the love that surrounded you. Despite their efforts, though, Javier was always in the back of your mind. You spent your days reconnecting with old friends, exploring familiar streets, and rediscovering the vibrant culture of Buenos Aires. Your brother introduced you to his friends, and they welcomed you into their social circle with open arms. They took you out dancing, to lively parties and tango clubs, hoping to lift your spirits and help you find joy in the present moment.

Through the laughter and dancing, you couldn't help but compare every experience to the ones you had with Javier. The way he would hold you close and guide you effortlessly across the dance floor, the way his eyes would light up when he saw you in a beautiful dress, undressing you with his eyes, and the way his laughter and flirtatious voice would fill the room, infecting everyone around him with happiness. No matter how hard you tried to immerse yourself in the present, thoughts of him still lingered in your heart, leaving a bittersweet and painful presence. During one of those nights at a tango club, you found yourself lost in the music and lost in the arms of a stranger who moved with the same grace and passion that Javier once did. For a brief moment, you felt a connection, a flicker of what you had lost. But as the song came to an end, reality crashed down upon you, and you pulled away, realizing that no one could replace Javier.

One evening, as you sat at a café with your childhood friend, Sofia, sipping on a rich, aromatic cup of coffee, she noticed the distant look in your eyes. Concern etched her face as she reached out to touch your hand, softly.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

You sighed, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I miss him, Sofia. I miss Javier more than words can express. Leaving Colombia was the hardest decision I've ever made, but I knew it was necessary for my own well-being. I just wish… I wish things could have been different."

Sofia nodded understandingly. "Sometimes, life takes us on unexpected paths, and we have to make difficult choices. It doesn't mean it's easy, but you have to trust that you made the right decision for yourself. And who knows what the future holds? Maybe one day, your paths will cross again."

Her words offered a glimmer of hope, and you held onto that hope tightly. You realized that healing wasn't a linear process, and it would take time to fully move on from the pain of losing Javier. But you were determined to focus on rebuilding your life, finding happiness within yourself, and pursuing your dreams and passions.

Meanwhile, Javier was struggling to cope with your absence. The emptiness in his heart grew with each passing day, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on his work. He missed you fiercely and regretted not fighting harder to keep you by his side. He realized the toll the case had taken on both of you and understood the sacrifice you had made for your well-being. Haunted by memories of your time together, Javier often found himself staring at the box of belongings you had left behind. He would occasionally pick up one of the vinyl records you used to listen to together, placing it on the turntable and allowing the music to fill the silence. It was a bittersweet reminder of the love you shared.

One day, as Javier sat in his apartment, surrounded by the remnants of your time together, he made a decision. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again, of not fighting for what he believed was true love. Determined to find you and make amends, he reached out to his contacts in Buenos Aires, seeking any information that could lead him to you. Days turned into weeks, and Javier tirelessly followed every lead, leaving no stone unturned in his search for you. He reached out to old colleagues, informants, and even friends from Argentina. His determination and love for you fueled his efforts, pushing him forward despite the obstacles he faced.

One evening, while sifting through a stack of files in his apartment, Javier stumbled upon a familiar name, one that sparked a glimmer of hope within him. It was the name of a private investigator based in Buenos Aires known for his expertise in finding missing persons. Without wasting another moment, Javier dialed the investigator's number and explained his situation, emphasizing the urgency and his deep desire to locate you.

Days passed, and Javier anxiously awaited any news from the investigator. He found solace in knowing that he was actively taking steps to reunite with you, but the uncertainty still weighed heavily on his heart. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and he couldn't shake the feeling that time was slipping away. Then, one afternoon, while Javier was lost in his thoughts, his phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie. It was the private investigator, and his voice carried a hint of excitement.

"Javier, I've found her," he said, his words reverberating through Javier's entire being.

Relief flooded over Javier, and he could barely contain his excitement. He quickly packed some of his stuff, leaving behind the remnants of his shattered heart, and set off for Buenos Aires, fueled by the hope of rekindling the love that had been abruptly taken from him.

As the plane touched down in Buenos Aires, Javier's heart raced with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see you, to hold you in his arms again, and apologize for his mistakes. He knew he had a long way to go in rebuilding your trust, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.

Javier's search led him to a cozy café in the heart of Buenos Aires. It was a place you often frequented, and he hoped it would serve as a starting point for their reunion. Nervously, he walked through the café's entrance, scanning the room for any sign of you.

And there you were, laughing and smiling with some friends, with a young toddler in your lap, who he assumed was your niece. He wanted so badly to hold you, to kiss you, and make you his once again, this time, without letting you go so easier. But he couldn't bring himself to. He was paralyzed, unable to move, his eyes just focused on your distant laugh and sweet, melodic voice, like honey. And then, he realized, his sunshine was back, but she was no longer his. She had managed to shine on her own, to find her own happiness and mindfulness.

He had you so close, but at the same time, so far away. With one final look at you, he mouthed the words "Te amo", and walked away, leaving you to your now happy life, this time, behind his silhouette the one who disappeared into the crowd.

You felt a smell, a familiar one that made your heart tingle, making butterflies appear in your stomach. You looked around, convincing yourself that you weren't just daydreaming, but nothing came into sight. You let out a deep sigh and turned your attention back to your friends, trying to engage back in the conversation, thinking that this had been another trick your mind pulled.

He had found his sunshine, his love, his fuel, but he couldn't bring himself to proclaim her once more, so he just let her shine, on her own.

Taglist: @hxpburn76 @hiroikegawa @still-wanna-be-corrupted @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier pena angst #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #fanfic #javier pena one shot

[yxngbxkkie]

secret secret (y.j)

so, my lovely @thewxntersoldier made this moodboard, and it inspired me to write this fashion designer au 🤭 i hope you guys enjoy it! i think it's pretty cute ❤️‍🩹🫶🏻

You drink the scalding hot chocolate from your mug, humming a bit as you stare down at the design you're working on. After setting the mug down, you rest your chin against the palm of your hand.

"Why doesn't this look right?" You ask yourself with a sigh. You set your pencil down and lean back, cracking your back with the chair.

You decided to stay late at the office, wanting to work on your project without having your roommate up your ass. You're working on the last piece for the summer collection, but you're just not feeling it.

"Y/N?" Jeongin's voice softly calls out your name, startling you.

You twist around in your chair, seeing your friend and fellow co-worker standing in the doorway. "Jeongin, you scared me," you chuckle with a hand over your heart. "What are you doing here?"

"There's a fashion show coming up, so I was working on getting things ready for that," he mentions while stepping further into the room.

"Ah, yes. Pace's very first show. Are you excited? I bet Hyunjin is," you smile.

Jeongin hums in agreement as he sits down beside you. You grab your mug again, taking a longer sip from it. "It's all he can talk about, honestly," he laughs, his eyes looking over your design. "This is cute."

"You really think so? I'm not sure about it," you slump in your chair, shifting your gaze towards the sketch.

"No, it's definitely cute," he reassures you while grabbing the piece of paper. "I would choose a different color, though."

You scoot your chair closer to Jeongin, looking down at the design. "Is it too dark? I know the other outfits are a brighter color. Doesn't really match the same vibe," you mention and lift yourself from your chair before grabbing the other designs.

You grab the binder that sits on your desk, bringing it back to the table Jeongin's sitting at. His eyes glance towards you as you sit back down, opening it to show him what you have.

"This is what I have for the other pieces. And, I knew there wasn't something right about this one," you spread out your finished designs before pointing back to the one you're still working on.

Jeongin looks through your other designs, and you keep your eyes on him, trying to judge what he's thinking. He hums, nodding his head as he turns the page.

"Yeah, so, I personally would match the colors. I've noticed a lot of people really enjoy a collection that has a theme of sorts," he explains to you, his gaze meeting yours.

"Okay, yeah, I can do that," you smile at him. He pushes your binder back towards you before standing up from his seat. "Thank you for the advice, Innie. I appreciate it."

He waves his hand, a shy grin coming to his lips. "Oh, it's nothing. I know how dedicated you are to your work," Jeongin shrugs his shoulders.

"That's true, but your eye for fashion is… incredible," you laugh, gesticulating.

"Come on, stop," Jeongin almost whines, hiding his face in his hands.

Your heart flutters at his bashfulness, reaching a hand out to him. You smile fondly at the dark-haired man, getting out of your chair before wrapping your fingers around his wrist.

"It's the truth, Innie," you whisper, your faces inches away from each other.

Jeongin lifts his gaze, and your breath hitches in your throat when you lock eyes. Butterflies swarm around your stomach before you look away. You clear your throat while taking a step back, feeling your cheeks blush.

"It's getting late. I should really get going," you change the subject, tucking some hair behind your ears. "I'll see you in the morning."

After gathering your stuff up quickly, you walk towards the elevator when Jeongin calls out your name. You stop in your tracks to look back at him.

"Let me walk you home," he offers, catching up to you.

"Okay," you comply without hesitation, providing the taller man a small smile. "Oh - I don't want it to be out of your way, though. If anything, I can get a taxi or something."

Jeongin laughs and he shakes his head. "I overheard you talk to Felix about your apartment building one day. It's actually quite close to mine, so it's okay," he mentions as the two of you enter the elevator.

"Do you work tomorrow?" You ask him while stepping out of the elevator.

"I do," Jeongin laughs, running a hand through his hair. "I have a fashion show to prepare for, remember?"

You snap your fingers and let out an "ah!" The wind blows through your hair as you both walk down the street together. "What's your coffee order? I'll bring you one when I come in."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Jeongin shakes his head, trying to dismiss the idea.

"Come on," you drag out, grabbing a hold of his arm. "It's the least I can do. I mean, you're walking me home."

You smile sweetly at him, giving him your best puppy-eyed look. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" He asks with a shy chuckle, diverting his gaze to the ground.

"Nope!"

-

"Y/N?" Hyunjin calls out your name, causing you to lift your head. You hum in answer, pausing what you're doing. The tall brunette comes into the room with a Starbucks drink in his hand. "This is for you."

You furrow your brows as you take the pink drink from him. "I didn't order anything," you mention with a frown, setting the plastic cup on the table.

"Jeongin got it for you," he states with a slight smirk, leaning his hands on the table. "The two of you have been close lately."

You roll your eyes at Hyunjin before going back to sewing. "I told him I'd bring coffee one morning, and ever since then, we've been bringing each other drinks," you explain to him while finishing up the shirt you're designing.

"You two would be cute together," he suggests.

"We are not going to discuss my love life, Hyune," you laugh, taking a quick glance towards him. "Innie and I are just friends."

Your boss hums and pushes himself up, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, if the two of you ever decide to be more than friends. You have my permission," Hyunjin winks before patting your shoulder.

"Get out of here," you joke with him, swatting your hand at him. Hyunjin laughs and avoids your attack.

He leaves you alone again, and you take a deep breath. You grab the pink drink from beside you before looking at the little sticker on it.

For my gorgeous designer &lt;3

Your cheeks blush, and you can't help but smile. "Oh, you're cute," you whisper to yourself before taking a sip. You hum in delight, nodding your head as you set the drink back down.

You grab your phone and pull up your and Jeongin's messages.

To: Innie 🫶🏻

Thank you for the drink, handsome! 🥹 You didn't have to

It doesn't take long for him to respond, your phone vibrating only a minute later.

From: Innie 🫶🏻

You're welcome, gorgeous! 💓 I know I didn't have to, but I saw Starbucks, and I know just how much you like pink drinks 🤭

You giggle to yourself after reading his message, feeling like you're back in high school with how much you adore him.

To: Innie 🫶🏻

Ugh, you're too kind. What would I do without you?! Oh, BTW, Hyunjin said that we'd be cute together.

From: Innie 🫶🏻

Did he now? You're not upset about keeping us on the dl for now, are you?

To: Innie 🫶🏻

No, no, absolutely not. I know you wanted to wait until the fashion show was complete. I totally understand, and I don't mind keeping you to myself 😘

"Okay, good," Jeongin's voice echoes off the walls, causing you to jump in your seat.

You place a hand on your chest, narrowing your eyes at the dark-haired man. "What is with you scaring the shit out of me?" You huff, leaning back in your chair.

Jeongin laughs and places his hands on your shoulders. You look at him with a smile on your lips, and he looks around quickly before kissing your forehead.

"How's it going?" He asks you, his hands gently rubbing your arms.

You hum before sitting up straight. "It's going well. I'm about halfway done with creating the initial designs," you tell him, spinning in your chair.

His eyes stay on you as you get out of your chair, walking towards the mannequins on the other side of the room.

"Oh, is that it?" Jeongin asks while following you.

"Yeah! What do you think Mr. Stylist?" You ask him with a proud grin.

Jeongin drags his fingers along the pieces you made. "I like them. They're very… you," he mentions. "Can I see them on you?"

A laugh leaves your lips as you glance towards Jeongin. "You wanna see them on me? Why?" You ask curiously.

"I just want to see how they'd look on the most beautiful girl," he flirts, sending you a wink.

Your cheeks blush and you turn your head, looking away from him. "Oh, shut up," you mumble loud enough for him to hear, getting flustered.

"Come on," Jeongin presses, grabbing a hold of your hand. "Felix isn't here today so my office is free."

You wet your lips before looking back towards your designs. "Fine, but I'm only trying one of them on," you cave, looking up at your boyfriend.

"Can I pick?" He asks with a slight smirk.

You motion your hands towards your designs, silently telling him to go ahead. His smile widens before taking a step closer to the mannequins.

After Jeongin takes a few minutes to look each outfit over, he finally points to the one he likes best. "I like this one," he mentions while looking back at the dress. "I feel like it'd highlight your curves well."

"You think so?" You ask with flushed cheeks, moving to take the outfit off the mannequin.

He hums in response, gliding his hand across your lower back. "Oh, absolutely. Trust the Stylist, okay?" He jokes with you.

You giggle, hugging the outfit to your chest. "Okay," you whisper as the two of you leave your office space.

Both of you quickly walk to Jeongin's office, as a few of your fellow designers bid you goodnight. You smile and wave to them before you walk into his large office.

Jeongin closes the door behind him. "The dressing room is straight through the curtains," he informs you.

"Okay," you whisper, feeling a bit nervous. "Is it weird that I'm nervous?"

You turn to face him, standing right in front of the closed curtain. "Why are you nervous?" He asks with sincere brows. "Are you uncomfortable with doing this? Don't feel the need to do this for my sake."

"No, no, I'm not uncomfortable," you reassure him with a shake of your head. "I've just… I've never put my own designs on before."

Jeongin walks over to you before taking your face in his hands. "Do you want to?" You nod your head briefly. "Okay then. There's nothing to be nervous about. I'm quite obsessed with you."

You let out a snort. "Shut up," you mumble embarrassingly. Jeongin takes a quick glance towards the door before placing a short kiss on your lips.

"It's the truth. Now, go," he laughs, lightly pushing you past the curtains.

You smile widely and lean your forehead against the storage door beside you. He's so cute. You think to yourself before starting to undress.

While you're changing, someone knocks on Jeongin's office door. You pick your head up and stay quiet as Jeongin answers it. "Hey, Hyunjin," he greets his friend.

"Hey, have you seen Y/N? I want to make sure she's not staying too late again," he asks out of concern.

Your heart flutters, feeling grateful to have a boss and friend like Hyunjin. "I think she already left. I saw her leaving a bit ago," Jeongin lied to him.

"Okay, great. Oh, hey, I think you should ask her out," Hyunjin mentions, causing your cheeks to turn pink.

You tune out their conversation and focus on quietly changing into the outfit. You check yourself out in the mirror, feeling a bit flabbergasted.

"Y/N?" Jeongin's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "Are you done?"

"Yeah!" You call out to him.

The curtain opens up, and Jeongin steps into the changing room. His eyes lit up at the sight of you. "Wow," he whispers, and you watch his gaze roam down your figure. "This looks incredible on you."

You fiddle with the skirt of the dress, smiling widely. "You think so?" You ask him, twirling around.

"Absolutely," he sighs contently, reducing the distance between the two of you. "You think you can make another so you can keep this?"

"Oh, I don't know," you tease him, feeling his hands rest on your hips. "I'll have to talk to the designer."

He smirks, leaning his face into your neck. "I can put in a good word," he giggles before gently kissing your neck.

"You can?! Well, that's good," you giggle some more.

Jeongin trails his lips up your neck, placing light kisses on your face. You scrunch your nose before kissing him, your hands going into his hair.

"How about you walk me home, lover boy?" You hum, nudging your nose against his.

"I can do that."

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight

#yang jeongin #yang jeongin x y/n #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin imagine #yang jeongin fanfiction #yang jeongin fanfic #yang jeongin fic #yang jeongin fluff #i.n x you #i.n x reader #i.n imagines #i.n #i.n imagine #i.n x y/n #i.n fluff #i.n fanfiction #i.n fanfic #i.n fic #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff

[practicecourts]

day 11 Moody @jilymicrofics is a little early (maybe I'm getting reckless, we will see, also I've not forgotten day 10...)

and since it's for day 2 of @mppmaraudergirl's Alight With Happines jily fest - The Doe-mestic moments I decided to post it now rather than wait to tomorrow ;-)

Read the Shit Show on ao3 (tw: mentions of - you guessed it- poo)

The Shit Show

With a flick of her wand the water in her mug came to a boil. Lily carefully dropped the heartshaped tealeave holder into it. Just looking at the silly thing brought a smile to her lips.  James had found it on a day out in Muggle London. Sirius got some excellent additions to his Record collection, and her husband had bought this trinket for her. He’d been proud as a peacock for finding such an excellent addition to their kitchen utensils, a tea maker for his love. It was barely light out, through the kitchen’s window she saw their garden turn from grey to green.  Slowly, she made her way up the stairs. The silence was deep, comforting and serene. The door to their bedroom was ajar, she peeked inside and frowned when there was no sign of James in their bed.  The small cot was empty too. Leaving her mug on the bedside table she pushed the door to the bathroom. A deep humming greeted her. In the shower the water rained down. The small room was filled with misty steam. James’s briefs lay on the floor, together with a small bodysuit, with a large yellow stain that caught her attention.  She leaned against the wall and tugged at the shower curtain, there her men stood, her baby boy safely in the strong arms of her husband. James’s hair was plastered to his head, Harry’s wide eyes peeked over the shoulder of his father. She reached a hand and touched his small hand. “Ah, Harry, is mummy there? Good for us, son. I always forget to grab a towel when we take an emergency shower.” “Ah, another shit-show then?” Lily giggled as Harry clasped at her finger fiercely.  “Oh, if you didn’t know better,"James said, sounding more proud than anything else, "you’d think he does it on purpose love, but yes, just like yesterday morning, he was up to his neck in it.”

#alight with happiness jily fest #day 2 The Doe-mestic moments #james potter #lily Evans #baby harry #jple #march microfics day 10 #touched #jily

[orlissa]

January Reading Summary

I asked yesterday if people were interested in what I read this year so far, and they seemingly were, so... here we go. You only have yourselves to blame.

Agatha Christie: Cat Among the Pigeons I actually started this one last year--I read Christmas Puding around Christmas, finished it sooner than I thought I would, but enjoyed it (I generally like Christie), so I just picked up another Christie I found at home. Oh, boy. Bad idea. Yep, it didn't do it for me. The beginning was all over the place, because Christie was introducing all these POVs all over the place with a (technically) non-chronological storytelling, then we were almost halfway through the novel by the time the first murder happened, then in the conclusion there were elements so misguided and nigh-distasteful (and stupid) that it actually made me mad. Nope, do not recommend.

James Herriot: All Creatures Great and Small Ah, an old friend. For those who are unfamiliar with Herriot's work: he was a vetenarian working in rural Yorkshire who started practicing in the early forties (changed to 1937 in his books), who then wrote several (slightly fictional) memoirs/collections of short stories about his life in the 1970s. ACGaS covers the period from the time he arrives at Yorkshire until he marries his wife. It's like a big mug of hot cocoa in a book form (that will sometimes make you cry). Everyone should read Herriot at least once.

James Herriot: Vets Might Fly Another one of Herriot's works, this one *technically* covers his time spent in the RAF--I say *technically* because many of the chapters are like "so this thing happened during training that reminded me of one of my patients at home." Also lovely, but sadly my copy is fully of typos (I have his books in Hungarian, and my copy of ACGaS was published in 1980s, while this one in the 2010s).

R.F. Kuang: Yellowface I've talked about this one here before. Brillant (I'd call it) pschyo-thriller and satire about the current state of the publishing industry.

Soman Chainani: Beasts and Beauty Collection of retold fairytales which I DNF'd after three stories. In my defense, I went into enthusiastically, but the first story was... okay, the second was kinda eyeroll-worthy, and the third I couldn't make much sense of, so I just gave up.

Hannah Grace: Wildfire Pretty much the same as Icrebreaker. Grace is really good at writing engaging characters and cammaderie, and I'm grateful for how she handles serious issues, but she still has much to work on her plots--some parts of the novel felt really episodic, like it had nothing to add to the overall narrative, while she stressed several times how important this end-of-the-camp talent show is for the female lead, only then to skim over the event in like two pages, without showing her thoughts about.

Mark Lawrence: The Girl and the Moon ...Sigh. This was a translation project, and I really can't say anything nice about this. It might be just me, because the author is apparently pretty much renowed, but I couldn't find a single element in it that I liked. Also the female lead's ending pretty much rivalled Alina's in the books in how unfulfilling and disappointing it was. Not to mention that the male author, who until that point handled the female character pretty well IMHO, had her say/decide on something that was downright disturbing, especially from a woman.

I also started reading Jennifer Saint's Ariadne and Katharine and Elizabeth Corr's Queen of the Gods in January, but I haven't finished those yet.

#orlissa reads #books

[antihibikase2]

Request a drabble using this prompt list!

"I swear, it's like he has eyes everywhere. I can't even buy a lump of cheese and a loaf of bread without him breathing down my neck."

Mumbles Piper, taking a swig out of his mug of Moomoo Milk before slamming it on the counter.

"Every piece of gold, every purchase we make-"

"All is accounted for, he's quite good at what he does. He's always been like that, even back at Mistralton."

Antoniou muses, swirling a mixing stick into his cup of coffee. Compared to the rest of the party, concerned at best, annoyed at worst, he was glowing with pride.

"It is quite impressive, actually. A true student of the Mistralton branch."

"Impressive?! It's creepy!"

Kurusu glances from the other end of the counter, fist clenching into a cup of hot cocoa.

"I make one purchase at some small store downtown and he's on my case all night about it! How is a chocolate bar going to 'financially murder the entire party', and how is it my fault entirely?!"

"A chocolate bar is nothing,"

Abbot laughs- he's the man behind the counter, the one preparing the party's drinks.

"I was in a rush to buy herbs and medicines- you know, so I could do my job as an apothecary; next thing I know, I've built up quite a tab in the store. No problem, I think, I'll pay it all of- but since Ohashi hasn't heard of these purchases, and I've amassed quite a debt, well,"

He pours a questionable liquid into a mug, a murky, sparkling gray.

"I learned my lesson- though I'm not allowed to experiment any new formulas for the time being, on account of Ohashi banning me from using the party's funds."

"Serves you Right,"

Abbot glares, but doesn't argue.

Lobanov takes the curious concoction, swirling it in his hands.

"He's a Little Debt Collector, That one. Very Terrifying- but What do you Expect, he is a Merchant of Plasma Harmonia Academia."

"I think he's doing a really good job then,"

Grumbles Descante- his own choice of drink was a simple, freshly squeezed lemonade; and he hoped Abbot didn't add anything to it.

"Representing the academy's business majors, I mean. Don't we have to pay him three pieces of gold daily?"

"The staff at Aspertia would put down donation boxes,"

Slater whispers under his breath, lips pressed against the rim of his teacup- his choice of drink was Pecha tea with coconut milk.

"It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't, um, mandatory."

"Little bloodsucking parasites,"

Technamare puts up his smoothie for Aibert to drink from- clearly annoyed at the mention of collecting fees.

"Opelucid wasn't any better- an entrance fee for the exams, the tuition, they didn't even offer scholarships, when they're the branch that'd benefit from having one!"

"Nice to know that, aside from running cults, planning deaths, masterminding this whole ordeal while carrying out this so-called god's will-"

Abbot slides Kurosawa his drink- a cup of Iapapa berry juice.

"-they're also stealing money from us."

Piper rolls his eyes. "And you guys say I'm the traitor-"

Technamare immediately looks at the thief. "You literally are-"

Piper waves his hand dismissively. "Yeah, fine, it was a one time thing-"

Descante, furrowed eyebrows, speaks up next. "You tried to kill Slater-"

"Well, I stopped doing that! Unlike Ohashi who bleeds us dry every time!"

"Who's bleeding who dry?"

The rest of the party goes quiet.

Stepping inside Abbot's private bar, Ohashi steps in with the sound of his wares jingling inside his backpack- as a merchant, he carried business as usual even as the party were labeled fugitives and heretics by the rest of the world, and maintained steady connections.

Out of all of them, it was no doubt Ohashi worked the hardest.

Yet.

Everyone turns away- completely unwilling to fess up.

Ohashi needs no confirmation, however.

"I take it the ingredients used for everyone's drinks were part of yesterday's trip to the market, Abbaticcio?"

"Right," There's a peaceful smile as he wipes a glass- it's hard to tell if it was fake or not. "No need to worry about that."

"Hmph. You say that,"

He glances at everyone.

He must have some sort of innate magic ability, Piper thought, because his glare was the iciest it's ever been- and the way it quickly melts into something, one of seething rage-

"-but while you lot were here gossiping amongst yourselves, I've observed there's been discrepancies between the reported expenses and our current budget."

Uh-oh.

"Kurosawa, Piper, Kurusu, Lobanov-"

The rest unmentioned quickly rose to their feet, scampering upstairs. Abbot hastily throws the last of the cleaned glasses into the shelf and makes a run for it.

"-meet me outside. We need to talk."

Kurusu looks like he wants to argue- but shrinks back when Ohashi stares into his exposed eye.

With a shrug, Lobanov takes one last sip of Abbot's strange drink, stretching his muscles and walking outside with Kurusu clinging to his coat.

"What did you buy?" Kurosawa asked. "You're the one always in trouble with him."

"You're in his bad books too!"

"It was probably some bandages I brought in a rush!"

"Like hell it was!"

"Both of you,"

Placing gloved hands on their shoulders, Ohashi leans close.

"Like it or not, I'll never part from your side,"

It was less of a reassurance- especially with how tightly he squeezed.

"So while I'm around, you better pay your dues. Otherwise,"

Somehow, out of everything we've encountered so far-

"You'll know why they warn you about making a deal with the devil."

-why is Ohashi the scariest?!

#jrpg au #request

[boxwinebaddie]

What are Stan and Kyle’s favorite seasons?

*cracks knuckles, unsheathes my gigantic pink, hello kitty enchiridion of manically compiled style knowledge ( aka fanfiction lore galore ) and pets my beautiful fluffy cat whilst swirling my $12 rose box wine around in a $2 dollar thrift store mug, peering eeriely*

ah! a lovely visitor at my lodging! i've been expecting you! or so the fates foretold and the tarot has tattled~ and perhaps my frilly, bell-sleeved robes reveal me, but i am called many things: pretty, witty...a man-hating, soothsaying sorceress and tawdry disgrace to my bitter bloodline, but you, my moon blossom, may call me armarius nina -- better known as your stylibrarian.

now, sit a spell, young scholar! ( though, you're charming enough without my ancient enchantments ) and let your heavy heart enlighten with the sage wisdom i impart on you whilist you rest your bones and gear up for your next great adventure!

but speaking of bones: you may find some in the closet. a few experiments i'm running on what pathetic, spineless, excuses for 'men' and crass chauvinistic pigs i find lollying about.

dear elora does find misogynists so very delicious these days. :)

now, my friends, as we return to the realm of reality, where i do not live, i am sure it's abundantly clear by my skyrim-esqe, taverny, dnd introduction, that i am very deranged, verbose and dedicated to my (witch-bitch-craft), which is pulverizing the south park canon so violently that they resemble the worthless men in my dungeon.

however, in doing so, i do put a lot of time and effort into dissecting the stan and kyle's across my ninaverse and thus, have far too much to say and am far too impassioned/excited about your question! <3

( nobody, of course, should be forced to read all this, but if you find my musings about the boys amusing, you might want to gander. )

and in the land of logic, where i also do not live, i know that...all my ncu style sons are just...stan and kyle at the end of the day. but to me at least, stan the man with the plan, kyle pile, jersey and raven are not the same people at all! they exist in different compartments in my brain and are greatly similar, but exist in radically different timelines.

...but perhaps i am simply gaslighting myself into believing all my many madman ramblings...but! live, laugh, love delusion, babey! ;)

and without further ado, down below, my ncu style season ninalysis.

now, something that i find terribly thrilling about the dynamic of the pep!style boys is that they are perfect opposites who attract. and as such, each their favorite seasons is the other's least favorite season, which if you've read my awful, monstrosity, abomination mess of a fanfiction, this fits right in with their moon-sun metaphor and motif.

starting with pep!stan, his favorite season is undoubtedly summer, not to be confused with #stanseason, which i will elaborate on later. speaking of summer, i think actually even mentioned it canonically at the beginning of chapter seven that summer is stan's fave season.

and stanley randall william marsh just...IS summer.

he's the crisp sound of cracking an ice cold beer on a scorching trip to stark's pond, swimming like a river nymph, watching a superhero movie surrounded by all his friends, gorging on hot, buttered popcorn, laughing so hard at the stupidest things that it sends a rocket of his extra large blue raspberry icee shooting out his nose, spiked, of course, with vodka, so it burns like fuck and is so funny.

he's holding your hand at the county fair on the highest part of the ferris wheel when you get scared, winning the strength test, gifting you a comically large stuffed bear you cherish forever, and feeds you pieces of funnel cake like you're the most precious thing in the world.

he's just...singing siren songs at the summer camp bonfire, collecting seashells for little girls, guarding baby turtles from being eaten by birds and guiding them safely into the water with a tearful goodbye.

the summer sky is clear and cerulean like his big, pretty eyes. sun's, guns out. and when it's hot outside, stan is out doing hot boy things.

be it hiking, biking, soccer, football, basketball, baseball, swimming, skateboarding, stanley marsh never gets sunburned, tans beautifully, gets sunkissed by mother nature, her favorite and basking in the glow of the summer sun is the closest thing he feels to happiness.

but, as we learned in our science rechap in the pep nine kyle denial, what comes up must come down. and with the intensity of stan's emotions, comes an equal instability, so what is summer sky high must meet a brutal, bitter ground zero winter. without mercy.

and when that flip flop drops...that means that IT has begun.

it being...

#stanseason. :/

now, sometimes during september its still little tepid and shiny and stan's favorite holiday ( that little goth bitch ) is halloween, so october is alright ( barring his birthday ) because even if it's a little gloomy outside, it fits the spooky season vibe that is literally his whole 'thing'.

but the second halloween is over...when the thirty first of october becomes the first of november...something in him just...snaps.

the switch goes off and gets stuck there. basically, he has really gnarly seasonal depression and that plays really, really poorly with his bipolar disorder and depression. like, i swear when the blue of the sky goes grey, stan's eyes dull with it. everything is so bleak, all the plants he loves so much wither and die, animals go into hiding, everything is either grey or white or pitch black at night and so miserable to him.

especially during winter break and weekends, he just holes up in his room and his childhood bed basically becomes his deathbed as he succumbs to what are some of his scariest depression episodes. him and wendy actually break up the most in the winter months because when the sun is gone, stan just goes...cold. full stop communication.

but also he can't help it. he's undiagnosed, so he's unmedicated besides his adderall ( which is a part of 13/14 ) so he just gets catatonic, can't move, can't eat, can't do anything, just cries and curls up in a ball and sleeps entire weeks away like that. my baby :(

on a deeper and way more fucked up level than even THAT though, more than weather, it's what happens during #stanseason because stan is extremely triggered and traumatized by the holiday season.

for starters, his birthday is just...he tries to avoid it every single year or is too drunk to remember it in order to get through it because the best thing about his bday to him is that hes a year closer to death :(

the actual holidays are so much worse though because of...sigh...Randy Marsh. he is a fucking monster during the holidays.

he ruins and terrorizes everyone every year it's so fucking awful. thanksgivings are shitty as fuck for him because he's just like sitting there and eating the side dishes, trying to just exist and randy is calling him a sissy and little girl and a fucking f*g for not eating meat.

christmas actually used to be stans favorite time of year!!! believe or not!!! like he liked xmas more than halloween because of the pretty lights and everyone being so happy and being able to get people gifts

:') sharon used to take little stan all over the neighborhood with their lights out with him on her shoulders, then eventually, when stan got too old for that and kyle came around, stan used to drag him by the hand, babbling and bright eyed. he also used to sing kyle christmas songs and it gaslit kyle into liking them because is just stan's voice so so nice and pretty and ugh...STAN FUCKING LOVED CHRISTMAS!!!

i also think it was around christmas that randy got drunk backed out of the driveway...and killed sparky, so stans in mourning during the winter time and visits sparkys grave by starks pond...i'm so :'(

FUCK YOU RANDY!!!! FUCK YOU SO MUCH!!! MEET ME IN THE PIT BITCH!!! YOU WONT YOU WONT!!!!

like i think what really put the nail in the coffin was one year when stan was in middle school ( he was happy during elementary school and was...getting wary of holidays/randy in middle school ) randy got drunk, really angry and violent for some reason...and on christmas morning, stan, shelley and sharon came down to carnage.

like all the presents just smashed up, toys in pieces, beautiful jewelry destroyed, the christmas tree they decorated absolutely desecrated, half of the presents in the fireplace it was sooooo horrible. and randy was just passed out drinking spiked eggnog on their living room floor, sleeping fucking peacefully. >:(

so stan...hates christmas now. stan who is a christmas angel. stan who loves cheer, happiness, whimsy and spirit. like gets mad when he hears christmas songs, is irritable all month long. :( STAN WHO LOVES MINT!!!! MY PEPPERMINT BABY! he can't even enjoy all the nice peppermint flavored stuff he loves because is so traumatized by xmas and the holiday season.

but to segway into the next part of my deranged season analysis of the ncu boys, i wanna loop back to stan's scary seasonal depression because those episodes often become serious stan alcohol benders.

it's cold outside and he's cold inside, but he doesn't know how to get warm so in his fucked up, untherapised sad boy brain he is like okay, well, alcohol makes me feel warm and makes me feel good, so if i drink itll just fix everything and i'll feel better again. so he's just getting violently drunk all winter long to microdose feeling good, to microdose warmth, TO MICRODOSE KYLE BROFLOVSKI.

ergo:

stan's favorite season is summer because it makes him feel the way that kyle makes him feel. stan likes summer because kyle is the sun.

micdrop. sjdlkdjads

so pep!kyle is like stan's little spot of sunlight in an otherwise wretched winter, which is actually very cute and funny because kyle's favorite season is winter. :)

he's just my little ice prince, steely solitaire, wicked, wintry, slow burn tsundere ( sorry ), glacier boy, who actually under the cold boy exterior is really just a romance literature enjoying, secret soft boy.

but, outwardly at least, and as we established throughout peppermint, but most specifically in chapter three, kyle broflovski is a Hater. of so many things, but save for house parties, crying babies, small spaces and rave music, kyle truly hates the ever-loving, or hating, rather, fuck out of the summertime.

he hates when it's hot and sticky ( ew ), sweating himself or seeing anyone sweat openly repulses him ( unless stan marsh is at the gym and kyle is spotting him -- he loves his job so much ), he hates the smell of sunscreen which he has to slather all over himself not to sunburn, which he still does anyway, so he spends all summer with his skin basically in red, angry, tender welts,

he gets really self conscious ( fuck the list ) going out in swim trunks, or even just shorts/sleeveless shirts ( he is really only comfortable in shorts around the house or playing basketball, other than that, cartman made a weird comment about his legs and he never recovered from that :((( -- you're so beautiful baby ) and really, that all chocks up to kyle having serious summer seasonal depression.

kyle hates summer but...kyle loves stanley marsh. so kyle endures summer specifically for stan and this does...have several benefits.

see, while stan is constantly on the move and hard to catch during the summer, flying from one outside boy activity to the next, kyle has spent his entire life running after his super best friend and does have an advantage in catching him. he does, however, need to catch his breath constantly.

which! thankfully, stan always has kyle's inhaler at the ready but if kyle hits his inhaler and stan hits him with the beautiful laugh, one dimple, hair ruffle combo...he does need to hit his inhaler again. it's a vicious cycle...but its very worth it for kyle.

mainly b/c he gets to watch stan do all his summer stuff.

specific iconic stan marsh hot boy summer activities/antics include:

that month stan was mowing lawns shirtless to save up for a new game console and kyle crashed into multiple trees on his bike, that time his mom asked him to patch something up on the roof instead of rancid and stan spent like a whole week in the rolled up teeshirt, fuckboy snap back sexc handyman tool shed cosplay and almost fell off the roof several times waving excitedly at kyle who...was shamelessly oogling from his window...smh.

stan playing shirts vs skins soccer, stan gang vs. craig gang, but kyle was taking summer courses at the community college, and when he was done he came back to stan shouting his name, running across the field like he was in some coming of age romcom movie to hug kyle golden and glistening with outside boy athlete sweat, ( kyle made one sweat exception...he also almost died when that happened help ), stan got ice cream far too often and accidentally ate it in a way that god really did not intend and kept kyle up for many nights...

the things that stanley marsh did to kyle broflovski before he realized that he was in love with him...need to be punished by a court of law.

most notably, when they were cits at tardicaca last summer, kyle really said fuck them kids and almost lost several of them multiple times watching stan life guard behind his sunglasses...JAIL, BABY!

but of course, when summer is over, stan falls ill during fall and shuts down in winter kyle freaks out and rightfully so! ( like stan almost died of alcohol poisoning last year and even before that, has been sad and bad enough to warrant deep concern. ) and kyles sheilas son, so he does make stan keep his window open and his blinds up just so he can check on him and bring him stuff, come over, read, etc.

my personal taylor swift headstannon is that pep!stan and kyle do the notebook thing in you belong with me where they exchange notes through their windows ( kyle has definitely held up that really pathetic ‘i love you’ one while stan was in the bathroom...crying )

— it usually happens if one of them is grounded, if they're snowed in, if stan is trying to annoy kyle and get him to stop studying, or kyle is trying to nag stan into studying lmao...my sons who are in luv.

but yeah, stan's window is open for ( rip, suicide watch ) which means kyle's window is also open, so stan just gets to watch him do really cute winter boy things…

…like read his romance novel when no one is looking, dance awkwardly and adorably around his room to line without a hook ( kyle is very ricky montgomery coded to me like...mr. loverman HELLO!!! ), organize all his things, drink his stanley marsh peppermint hot cocoa in his stanley marsh stolen hoodie, or watch the snowflakes with wonderment, drawing things on the frosted glass.

and for a boy who was supposedly not in love with his super best friend...stan did spend a lot of time and got a lot of serotonin watching kyle through his window like his favorite tv show. smh.

b/c ky hates the sun. but really likes snow. it is just a very interesting scientific, natural and beautiful process to him. he gets really cold but that is okay, because he has anemic boy privileges and stan bundles him up in his varsity jacket and so many flannels and scarves its so funny, he's so worried about him. idk kyle gets really excited when it starts snowing, its so cute, stan is like aw kp!!!! :') <333

( stan always picks his little tea or latte up for him and kyle burns his mouth because he has no patience and burns his mouth every time so stan always orders him a kid temperature one....so cuuuute. )

basically the best way i can sum up how stan and kyle are during december is that kyle is this december by ricky montgomery and stan is december by neck deep, and is either the electric guitar or the acoustic version depending which bipolar episode he's in.

but yes, closing thoughts....pep stan is a summer sun, winter moon and kyle is a winter sun and a summer moon. he...lp. ta....da?

okay...phew.

go take a break if you've read this part. we have reached the halfway point folks. the end is in sight...but first...rm style seasons. ;) <3

starting with jersey....he is autumn, to which you might argue ( as kyle often does ), but nina! rm!jersey kyle is so much more cold, callous and brutal than pep!kyle, wouldn't he be winter instead?

but ah, dear scholar, you forgot that rm!kyle...is our Y/N.

as such, he loves september when school comes back around ( he does not know what to do when he's not being a student, i'm scared for him ), he delights very much in pumpkin spice flavored things, sits in grounded on his days off with his laptop doing his homework, hair put up, drowning in his gigantic cable knit sweater, or reading the news paper after his mock trials with his blazer hanging off the back of the chair, plaid slacks on, reading glasses on, sipping a london fog, having a cinnamon scone, enjoying the grey and misty weather.

for those reasons, jersey!kyle likes autumn, of course, but if you want the god honest truth...the reason kyle loves autumn...is because....

...stanley marsh was ( is ) autumn.

ravenstan just smells of cinnamon and spiced apple cider, chai tea, warm handmade blankets, firewood and whiskey. so during fall, everything just smells, tastes and feels like stanley marsh...which is the best thing in the world...and the worst fucking thing in the world.

because stan's was born in the fall...and died in the fall. :(

every autumn is honestly traumatizing for kyle, it's very bittersweet, even down to stan talking walks with him in the forest and having used to tell kyle that autumn looked like him because the leaves turn the color of his hair...but now kyle takes lonely walks in the city and can feel that emptiness next to him where stan should be. :'((

it's a harm and a comfort, honestly. he used to like aggressively hoard fall scented things when he was having really bad I See Stan episodes, but dr. margolis ( kyles therapist ) told him that that kind of obsessive behavior is unhealthy and he should avoid dwelling too much on stan during fall aka not order a bunch of cinnamon flavored stuff to soothe the sadness of his passing...but its...he slips a lot.

and when he falls in fall, he really falls HARD because he'll be making a coffee fine one second and then a man with blue eyes orders a chai tea latte and kyles hand is shaking so bad that he burns his arm on the machine and...i'm so sad. there's a little thing he does on stan's birthday every year, its kind of like a birthday tradition they used to do. i can't talk about it yet, but it will come up. its autumnal. :')

and onto the final part of this behemoth of an ask message, oh my god. stan, stan. ravenstan, who is so, so, so, soooo spring.

i know you guys don't know that much about him other than kyle's surface level reactions of him and psychosis around him being stan, but he is really like a persephone boy really that is a hades boy now.

he really is just like magical forest creature. all the flowers bloom and he just lights up. raven like...loves plants. he is my little witchy herbology botany boy king i love him so much. he could lay down in the grass for hoooours and could write so many songs about it. aaa!!!

kyle is disgusted by spring because his pollen allergy is so bad, but in the same way that winter kyle showed up for summer stan to watch him do hot boy outside boy summer things, autumn kyle shows up for spring stan doing soft sprite disney prince nature boy stuff <3

being up at the farm as far as randy goes was awful, but its really pretty during the spring and him and kyle used to just go out into the pastures, all the little meadows and divits, sit by the pond ( yes stan is that filthy nasty boy who chases all the bugs and frogs and gets covered and dirt and mud and everything smh...brother nature )

even before sheila hyperfixated on plying kyle with lavender to help him calm down from his panic attacks after stans 'death' because that's what the internet and all the specialists did -- stan used to make him cute little flower crowns and stuff and weave lavender into his hair and make him bracelets out of blades of grass and stuff...which i think he still has dreams about to this day.

...and i honestly think its hard for kyle to sit out in nature because it reminds him so aggressively of stan...the trauma omg. free my man!

also i'd say ravenstan like pep!stan would have been running around doing outside boy sports too during his month but...unfortunately the south park boys in elem/middle, specifically eric cartman was gatekeeping all of those sports...in a way that deeply disgusts me.

like okay, i feel like where pep!stan's thing was mostly football, ravenstan's thing is HOCKEY and wanted to join the hockey team or play hockey with all the south park boys and eric cartman was like

"you can't join sh*n because you're a g*rl!!!!”

....to which he proceeded to like aNNIHILATE and DECIMATE every single boy at hockey...like in a way that for a pacifist icon was so brutal and Iconic that multiple boys went home bruised and crying.

also he totally winked at kyle in his gigantic wayne gretski jersey with his big, charasmatic lopsided grin w/ his chipped front tooth and kyle was immediately in luv.

stan marsh when he was still stan marsh and 11...was such a literal fucking legend i love him. he really has so much true grit n tenacity.

small final note one hockey and ice sports though, kyle never played hockey with the boys because cartman was extremely cruel to him.

he also did not take to hockey but he is....really good at ice skating. nosm as a concept is so cute to me ( i think pep!kyle also learned to ice skate after the stark's pond incident ) but jersey kyle is secretly a really, really talented beautiful, graceful ice skater and stan was just fuckin bodying people in hockey and two languages. <3

and that's all? i think? my word.

EDIT: WAIT I FORGOT THAT ITS ALSO RAVENS FAVORITE SEASON BECAUSE KYLES BIRTHDAY IS IN SPRING ALSO! GAY!!!

tldr: pep!stan summer, pep!kyle winter, rm!jersey fall, ravestan spring

i hope this provided you with the kind of electric energy that i felt while writing it, i am currently levitating oh my god. if you're wondering why my updates are slow, it's because i waste my time writing ask memes the size of two updates for basic questions.

-uncle nina, ceo of style season

#okay...this is my masterpiece #but please do not read this if you don't want to its really long #and probably spelled very bad #but this feels extremely accurate to me #like idk if im being crazy but theyre all different seasons and people and it all makes so much sense in my crazy brain #also rip talking abt pepstyle...i fucking love my sweet soft boys i am...gonna try and write 12 again i miss them #also i feel like im talking too much abt rm but its taking me so long to write these chapters that like #i swear to god by chapter 7 ill have accidentally spoiled the whole fic to you guys i cant keep secrets #im just not sly like that and impaitent #BUT I HOPE THIS HELPS LMAO AND I HOPE IT FEELS ACCURATE TO YOU IT FEELS SCARY ACCURATE TO ME #LIKE IF I WAS GONNA FRAME AN ASK MEME IT WOULD BE THIS ONE RIGHT HERE #ALSO IM SORRY BUT IM RIGHT ARGUE W UR MOMMA OR THE WALL BUT NOT ME BABY!!!! IM RIGHT ABOUT THIS #now i gotta take a brain and hand break because that was...alot omg...*stan vc* wowza

[hearts-hunger]

home for the holidays — chapter two

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Series Summary: The Cabin Fever gang spends Christmas in Frankenmuth. ||  Companion series in the Cabin Fever universe

⮡ part one

Chapter Summary: The gang explores a very festive Frankenmuth. (Danny's POV)

Pairings: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner, Josh Kiszka x Reader, Jake Kiszka x Reader | Genre: holiday fluff | Word Count: 3.5k | Chapter Warnings: spicy remarks, talk of sexuality, mention of the devil's lettuce

A/N: My first time writing Danny and Sam from their perspective! Also, fair warning, everything I know about Frankenmuth is from the internet, so forgive me if it's not accurate hehe. I hope you like it! ♡

Sam dropped their bags just inside his bedroom, giving a theatrical, contented sigh as he stepped in.

“Home sweet home.”

Danny chuckled as his boyfriend flopped unceremoniously on the bed, a display he’d seen many times in their youth when they came home tired from soccer games or gigs or long nights finding trouble to get into. Not that there was much trouble to be had in quiet little Frankenmuth — they’d mostly gotten their kicks from a dime bag and one of Sam’s records. This bedroom had seen countless hours of the two of them playing music, helping each other with homework, talking about everything and nothing. To Danny, the Kiszka house was a second home, and Sam’s bedroom had been the safest and most wonderful place in the world for many years.

He moved their duffle bags out of the way and perused Sam’s record collection, small as it was with most of it moved to their apartment in Nashville.

“I've been wondering where this was,” Danny said, pulling out a Cat Stevens record. He put it on the old, beat-up turntable and let Teaser and the Firecat play.

Sam rolled to his back. “We should take all those back home when we leave,” he said. “We left a lot of random stuff here.”

“That’s because you were in charge of packing up your room,” Danny reminded him. “And you're terrible at packing.”

Sam grinned as Danny sat in the edge of the bed. “Yeah, but you still love me.”

Danny gave a soft laugh. “Lucky you.”

Sam nudged his knee against Danny’s back. “Hey, you love this song.”

Danny smiled. “I know.”

“I listen to my words, but they fall far below,” Sam sang along absently. “I let my music take me where my heart wants to go.”

He sat up and stretched. “Where does your heart want to go, Dan?”

Danny moved Sam’s legs out of the way and laid back on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “Right now? My heart wants to go to sleep.” 

Their pre-dawn flight had sounded like a great idea when they’d planned it, but he was exhausted now and they hadn't even gotten started on all they planned to squeeze into one day.

Sam laughed and sat cross-legged at Danny's side. “You can’t sleep now. We just got here. We still have lots of stuff to do.”

Danny groaned and draped an arm over his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

Sam ran a hand over Danny’s chest in a soothing motion. “You’re really tired, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You want more coffee?” He got off the bed without waiting for an answer. “I’ll go make you some.”

Danny propped himself up. “You don’t have to.”

Sam smiled. “I want to. Maybe mom has some of that fancy creamer you like.”

Sam was only gone for a minute, and Danny gratefully accepted the mug of coffee with sugar cookie creamer when he returned.

“Thank you,” he said with a contented sigh.

Sam smacked a kiss to his cheek with a goofy muah, making Danny laugh.

“You’re welcome, honey.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Sam rifling through his things and showing Danny any interesting discoveries as Danny drank his coffee. He looked up at the posters haphazardly taped to Sam’s ceiling; they were all male rock bands and musicians, some in various states of undress like the Mick Rock photo of Queen that was almost a boudoir shoot. Danny chuckled.

“What's so funny?” Sam asked with an affectionate smile.

Danny shook his head. “I can’t believe it took you so long to figure out you were into guys.”

Sam gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, well, not all of us were born self-aware bisexuals, Daniel. Some of us had to go through gay trauma.”

Danny looked over at him. “What do you mean?” He’d known it had been a little harder for Sam to come to terms with his sexuality than it had been for Danny, but he didn’t remember anything close to trauma. 

Sam gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m kidding. There was very little trauma involved, if any. Aside from realizing I was hopelessly in love with you and not being able to tell you.”

Danny sighed. “Sweetheart, I think that was just you being dumb,” he teased. “You could have told me any of those million times we were in here goofing off and trying to act straight and I would have told you I felt the same way.”

“Not if you were making out with girls all the time,” Sam needled.

“Minor detours,” he said. He finished his coffee and set the mug on the nightstand. “I was always on the road to you, Sammy.”

“Now you sound like a Rascal Flats song.”

Danny laughed until he was out of breath, and Sam wore a lovesick smile as he watched him.

“You know I spend every waking minute trying to make you laugh?” Sam said, coming to sit beside him on the bed. “It’s my favorite sound in the whole world.”

“Aw, love. You’re secretly a romantic, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” Sam said. “Take that back.”

Danny smirked. “What are you gonna do if I don’t? Make swoony romantic love to me?”

With a quickness that made Danny blush, Sam straddled his lap and pulled his arms behind his back.

“Does this feel swoony and romantic to you?” Sam asked.

Danny smirked. “Kind of.”

Sam immediately took down the facade and released Danny’s hands to cradle his face and kiss him gently. That suited Danny better; usually he was the one giving the business to Sam, and he liked it just fine.

“I love you,” Danny said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Sam smiled and buried his face in Danny’s neck.

“I love you too,” he said. “You know, it’s been a while since we fooled around in this bed.”

Danny snorted. “It’s barely eight in the morning, Sam.”

Sam gave him a serious look. “You know you can do the deed even when it’s not dark outside.”

Danny laughed. “You’re funny.”

Sam was pleased with the compliment and rewarded him with a kiss. Despite what he’d said, Danny felt himself warming to the idea of “fooling around,” and he broke the kiss before it got too hot and heavy.

“Hey,” Sam protested. “Be nice.”

“Don’t tempt me. You’re the one who said we have all this stuff to do.”

“Forget I said that. We can stay in bed all day.”

Sam kissed him again, and Danny had almost agreed to stay in bed when a knock sounded on the door.

“Let’s go, lovebirds,” came Jake’s voice. ��It’s too early for all that.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s impeccable timing. Danny chuckled and gently eased Sam off of him.

“Come on,” he said sweetly. “Let’s go look at Christmas lights or something.”

Sam softened. “You sure you’re not too tired? You can crash for a while if you want.”

Danny shook his head. “I’m feeling better after having some coffee. In fact, I’m rarin’ to go.”

Sam grinned and took his hand as they went to meet the rest of their friends at the door.

“Are you coming with us, mom?” Sam called, pulling on his jacket.

“No, you kids go have fun. You girls take nice pictures, because I know none of these boys can.”

Sparrow and Baby laughed.

“Yes ma’am,” they chorused. 

Bundled up in scarves and hats and big jackets they hadn’t had to use since they moved, the six of them crunched through the few inches of snow that had already accumulated on the ground. Danny took the driver’s seat again, reaching his hand back to find Sam’s.

“I’m assuming you don’t want to hold my hand,” Josh teased, slapping his palm against Danny’s.

Danny took Josh’s hand and squeezed it. “Who says?”

Josh laughed and returned the affectionate squeeze before Sam batted his hand away. 

“Hey now,” Sam said. “Hands off my man.”

Danny felt Sam’s wiry hand in his own and ran his thumb over Sam’s knuckles.

“You’re gonna freeze with no gloves, Sam.”

“I do have one glove,” Sam said. “I guess you’ll just have to hold my other hand to keep me from getting frostbite.”

The drive to town was quick, but it took ages to find parking. Even with the light snowfall, people were out and about, enjoying the snow-capped and colorfully lit Little Bavaria of downtown Frankenmuth. Danny was happy to be back; he’d missed the sights and sounds of his hometown at Christmas, and he was glad they’d decided to come home for the holidays.

They all cheered when they finally found a parking space, and Baby pointed out that they were right near one of the “Stop and Snap” picture spots. 

“Get in,” she ordered with all the seriousness of a general directing her army, gesturing to a giant ornament with a wide seat in the middle. “We’re doing all fifteen stops so we can get our collector’s edition ornament at the Visitor's Center.”

They did as she asked, squishing together, sitting on each other’s laps to fit.

“Put those long arms to use for a selfie, Daniel,” Sparrow said, just as dedicated to the cause as her best friend. 

Danny smiled and did as she said, fitting everyone into the picture and taking millions so the girls could pick out the one they liked the best. As they walked around town, they stopped and took more pictures, each one more ridiculous than the last, and Danny felt the infectious joy of good company as they explored the town they knew like the back of their hand.

“We ought to stop in and say hi to Mr. Miller,” Sam said as they rounded the corner near where the record shop stood. 

“Hey, we should!” Josh agreed. He nudged his shoulder against his girlfriend’s. “And maybe Santa can get me that John Denver record I’ve been looking for. What do you think, baby?”

She gave him an innocent smile. “I don't know, honey. Have you been a good boy this year?”

He whispered something to her that made her blush. “Joshua,” she protested, but her smile gave her away.

They came into the record store and basked in the warmth for a moment before spreading out to flip through rows and rows of second-hand vinyls. All of them had spent countless hours there searching for good finds growing up, and the owner, Mr. Miller had always been a kind friend and musical mentor to them. They went to say hello to Mr. Miller, and he was delighted to have them back; he gestured to the boxes of records he hadn’t yet put out and told them have at them.

“I know you kids like to hunt for hidden treasure,” he said with a twinkling smile. “Knock yourselves out.”

They did, and they found several records they asked Mr. Miller to keep for them behind the counter until they were headed home. He did, saying he was “always happy to see young folks interested in good music.”

Danny and Sam looked together through the jazz section. The smell of old records brought back a flood of memories for Danny, and he gently tapped his boot against Sam’s.

“You know, Sam, I think I fell in love with you in this store.”

His boyfriend gave him a heart-tilting smile. “You did? You never told me.”

“I mean, I'd been in love with you forever,” Danny, a little bashful as he remembered the years of fumbling, hesitant flirtation with his best friend. “But I do remember one time when we were in here, a few weeks before we went to the cabin. You found a copy of Teaser and the Firecat — the copy we were listening to earlier, actually, because you ended up buying it — and started singing ‘Rubylove’ loud enough for the whole store to hear. But you changed ‘Ruby’ to ‘Danny’.”

Danny was surprised to see Sam blush bright red.

“Oh, god, I remember that,” Sam said with an embarrassed laugh. 

Danny himself felt a little embarrassed at the thought that Sam didn’t remember that day with as much fondness as he did.

“I thought you were flirting with me,” Danny said, hedging. “I guess I was wrong.”

Sam looked surprised. “I was!” He came close and eased Danny’s embarrassment with a lopsided smile, tucking his hand into the crook of Danny’s arm.

“I was definitely flirting with you, honey,” he said, kind and affectionate. “I mean, I sang you a love song from your favorite album of all time. I was one hundred percent wearing my heart on my sleeve and making a complete fool of myself.”

Danny softened and gave him a chaste kiss. “I don’t think you made a fool of yourself, love.”

Sam raised a brow. “No? What if I did it again right now?”

Without waiting for Danny’s answer, he pressed his clasped hands to his chest in a dramatic gesture.

“Danny my love, you’ll be my love. You’ll be my sky above, Danny my love.”

Danny laughed and shushed him with a hand to his mouth as they gained troubled glances from other customers and a wolf whistle from one of Sam’s brothers.

Mr. Miller called to them from behind the counter. “Haven’t you boys quit flirting and actually gotten together yet?”

All of them laughed, and Jake wryly assured the older man that the two singing idiots had indeed gotten together.

Mr. Miller shook his head. “About time.”

Sam looked up at Danny with a beaming grin. “I was flirting with you this time, too, just so you know.”

Danny chuckled and gave him a quick kiss. “I figured.”

After a while, Danny found Baby flipping through the John Denver section with a look of concentration.

“Don’t you have most of these?” he asked. She and Josh had adopted John Denver as “their” artist, and from what he could remember of their collection at home, they had almost all of his albums.

“Yeah,” she said, a little distracted. “But we don’t have Rocky Mountain Christmas yet, and I wanted to get it for Josh this year.”

He helped her look, and after a few moments, he pulled out a blue and white album with painted mountains on the cover. “This one?”

She gave him a sweet, joyful smile he couldn't help but return.

“Yes!” she said happily, taking it when he offered it to her. “Thank you, Danny. That's exactly what I was looking for.”

She looked up at him. “Did you find anything for Sam?”

He shrugged. “I can’t think of a record he wants that he doesn't already have,” he said. “He’s hard to buy for, you know that.”

“Tell me about it,” she agreed as they walked to the counter together. “Josh and I got him a Polaroid, so I hope he’ll like it.”

“He’ll love it,” Danny assured her. “That’s a great gift for him. Did you have it shipped here?” Since they’d decided on the trip, they’d been sending their packages to the Kiszkas' for Kelly to hide, and they had a lot of wrapping to do that night to get everything ready.

She nodded. “Kelly said it got there yesterday, so it was just in the nick of time.”

She handed the record to Mr. Miller and asked him to keep it with the rest of their picks, and Danny blocked Josh’s way when he tried to come close.

“What are you, her bodyguard?” Josh laughed.

Danny shook a stern finger at him. “Christmas is no time for snooping, Mr. Kiszka.”

Josh grinned. “Fine. We’re ready to go when you guys are.”

They rejoined the group when they’d said their goodbyes to Mr. Miller, a little relieved to find it had stopped snowing while they were shopping. Sam took Danny’s hand as they walked, and Danny laughed when he found that Sam actually did only have one singular glove.

“Here,” he said, making to take off his own and give them to him.

“Aw, Dan, you don't have to give me your gloves,” Sam said, surprised but touched that he would offer. “Just hold my hand and I’ll be fine.”

Danny gladly did as he said. The feel of Sam’s hand in his still sent a thrill through him like the first time he’d felt it, and he knew he’d never tire of the little ways Sam came up with to be close to him. 

“Alright, boys, strap in,” Sparrow said, rubbing her mittened hands together in gleeful anticipation as they came up to Bronner’s Christmas Wonderland. The gigantic building was festooned top to bottom in garlands and lights, and even from the outside it lived up to its billing as the world's largest Christmas store. Danny smiled as he watched Jake join in his girlfriend’s excitement and saw Josh snap a picture of the sign with the disposable camera Baby had brought.

“You ready?” Danny asked, looking to his boyfriend with a grin.

Sam shrugged. “Oh, sure.”

Danny chuckled. “You promise you won’t hate it?” he teased. Though Sam would never admit it, fearing to tarnish his rockstar reputation, he loved going to Bronner’s and looked forward to it every year.

Sam gave him a grudging smile. “I think I’ll survive.”

They wove through life-size nativity scenes and towering nutcrackers until they came to the door, entering into a sprawling display of festivity. The girls gave delighted giggles and dragged their boyfriends off to look at the huge Christmas village exhibits and hundreds upon hundreds of ornaments that sparkled and shone from every corner. Sam and Danny took a moment to take it all in, looking over the waterfalls of twinkling lights, giant baubles suspended from the ceiling, and many-tiered displays of Santas, presents, and brightly-lit trees.

Danny snuck a glance at his boyfriend and softened at the look of boyish wonder and excitement of Sam’s face. Spurred by affectionate impulse, he kissed Sam’s cheek. 

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Sam pinked and gave him a bashful grin.

“Merry Christmas, Dan.”

They whiled away the morning at Bronner’s, spending a long time in leisurely enjoyment of the sights and sounds of Christmas. When they’d seen all there was to see and successfully dissuaded the girls from buying the entire store, they had lunch at the Christmas Town Pub at the farmer’s market and talked over mugs of mulled wine.

“You’re not doing this whole vegan thing with Sammy, right?” Josh asked, snagging one of the fries that had come with Danny’s bratwurst. Baby batted his hand away and pushed her fries towards him.

“I don’t mind sharing,” Danny said, giving her a smile. “And to answer your question, Josh, I think I’d qualify myself as a selective vegan.”

Sparrow laughed. “So not really a vegan.”

“Well, we’ve been doing it at home,” Sam said. “Danny’s been a real champ so far.”

“I’m not going vegan for you, Sparrow,” Jake said. “I mean, I love you, but I really, really like meat.”

“Yes, honey, I know. You and your steaks.”

Jake put a hand to his chest. “You don't like my steaks?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. “Of course I like them, Jakey. I like anything you cook. You know what else I like?”

He smirked. “My world-famous kisses?”

She laughed. “Those too. I was going to say mulled wine, but if you would be so kind as to get me some more, I’ll let you give me one of those world-famous kisses.”

Josh and Baby asked for more too, and Sam offered to help Jake carry them.

“You want another one?” he asked Danny.

Danny finished his drink and raised his mug. “Sure, why not.”

They lingered for a while over their drinks, and Danny started to feel the pull of exhaustion again as the wine and warm food worked their magic. Sam’s hand running up and down his back, though a welcome touch, wasn’t helping him in his losing battle. Sparrow and Josh, too, were looking ready for a nap, and their partners were happy to have them rest their heads on their shoulders. 

“We’re losing them, Jake,” Sam said with a laugh. He looked over at Danny. “My big guy's about ready to crash, huh?”

Danny gave him a drowsy smile. “I like it when you call me that.”

Sam chuckled. “I'm glad. You are my big guy.” He brushed Danny's hair over his shoulder. “You ready to head home?”

Danny stifled a yawn behind his hand. “Probably. If everybody else is.”

“I think we should call it before Sparrow falls asleep at the table,” Jake said, kissing her cheek. “We can take a power nap and come back for ice skating later.”

Jake offered to drive home, and Danny leaned against Sam as they rode. With a bit of persuasion, Sam got him out of the car and into bed.

“Just one more minute, sweetheart,” Sam said, kneeling down to take off Danny’s boots for him. Danny felt his heart squeeze at the selfless gesture and rested his head against Sam’s for a moment.

Sam breathed a laugh. “You alright?”

Danny hummed in agreement. “I love you a lot, Sam.”

Sam set Danny's boots to the side and tipped his face up for a kiss, which Danny gladly gave.

“I love you a lot too, big guy.”

Danny snuggled close to Sam when they were both under the covers, and Sam brushed Danny's hair back from his face.

“I’m glad I get to spend Christmas with you now, Sam.”

Sam's laugh was soft. “We’ve always spent Christmas together, love,” he said. “Even when we were kids.”

Danny cuddled closer. “You know what I mean. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas with you like this.”

Sam relaxed with a contented sigh and gave Danny a gentle kiss.

“Yeah,” he agreed, and Danny could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re right. This kind of Christmas is way better.”

if you’d like to be tagged in this fic, please send me an ask! ♡

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sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here!

#i hope you like this chapter! it was fun to write sam and danny from dan's perspective <3 #gvf fanfiction #gvf fluff #greta van fleet fanfiction #sam kiszka x danny wagner #josh kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x reader #cabin fever fics #maddie writes stuff!

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 2: Resident Freak

Raining Hellfire (Eddie's Version) | Part One

Word Count: 3586 words

Warnings: swearing, bullying, fight, mentions of blood, allusion to drug dealing, adorable eddie

[A/N: why am i always so angry at tommy for the things he does to reader and eddie when i've literally just made them up myself????]

Resident Freak

Paired With RH1: Chapter 2: Pool Parties and Good Punches

“What’s got you all smiley?”

Eddie sent an irritated glance to his left, removing his chin from his hand to straighten in his seat. Wayne just continues to look at him with a bemused expression.

“Nothing.” He mumbles, mentally forcing the happiness that danced on his lips to conceal itself.

“Uh-huh.” Wayne raises his eyebrow as he swipes the empty bowl away from Eddie and heads to the sink. “Like I haven’t noticed how happy you’ve suddenly gotten.”

“Creepy.” Eddie states sarcastically, barely dodging the gentle swipe of Wayne’s hand against the back of his head.

“So…” His uncle continues and Eddie rolls his eyes. Of course he wasn’t going to let it go.

“So.” Eddie nods, grabbing a towel and drying up some mugs. They had been collecting over the past few days, neither of them in the trailer long enough these days to wash up their coffee mugs.

“Who’s the girl?”

The ceramic labelled with the word ‘grumpy’ almost slipped from his hand before he caught himself, looking much like a deer in headlights and earning a laugh.

“Knew it.” Wayne chuckles, shaking his head and taking the mug from his nephew’s fumbling hands.

“Pff.” Eddie attempts to shrug the idea off, but his cheeks are burning red. “Girl? There’s no- why is it that when I’m happy it has to be about a girl- I don’t- there’s no time for girls. I’m a… busy man.”

Even he didn’t believe his own rambling mess. So, with what little dignity he had left, Eddie lowers his head and lifts the bag currently leant against his chair onto his shoulder, heading to the front door.

“Not another word.” Eddie warns, swinging open the door.

As he jumps down the step and slams the door shut, he can still hear Wayne’s laugh while he stalks to his van, muttering curses under his breath.

It felt like his thoughts were obsessed with you, circling his mind until it felt like even his brain had butterflies. And he’d only known you one day.

Eddie hadn’t felt a connection like this to someone else before. It was jarring, almost nauseating, to feel so giddy about it. Sure, his friends at DnD were very similar to him; same style, same tastes. But they didn’t truly understand him. And in the 24 hours he’s known you, you’ve managed to read him like a book.

That was something he knew he should never ignore.

“Okay but if we don’t beat this next campaign I will explode.” Jeff pouts, head against the bench in utter defeat at the snippet of information Eddie has given his Hellfire Club.

“Come on, man, we’ve got this.” Gareth chimes in, slapping him on the back before reaching over and snagging a chip out of the packet in Eddie’s hand.

The look of utter disbelief sent his way had him shrugging. “What? If anything I’m helping you eat healthier.”

Another sarcastic look until they were all leaving the grass together, aware of the little minutes they had until class started. Eddie was grateful to have met them, really, even if Gareth got on his nerves sometimes. But Eddie supposed he would be annoying at times, too.

As Jeff and Gareth laugh over a conversation he had zoned out of, Eddie’s eyes drift across the sea of students swimming around them, mostly keeping an eye out for Tommy and Harrington. The last time they were caught walking down the hall, their merry goons had slammed Gareth against a locker for talking back. Gareth pretends not to care, they all do, but Eddie sees how their spirit gets chipped away each time.

Eddie’s steps almost falter when he catches sight of you. You’re currently slipping through the crowd to reach your locker, followed closely Nancy Wheeler and… Barbara Holland, was it? Holland was reading from a flashcard, you and Wheeler exchanging smiles when one of you answer. Preparing for a quiz, he supposed.

“Wait, hold up!” Jeff suddenly stops in his tracks and points to his left, “I gotta grab something real quick.”

Gareth simply shrugs and they all lean against the wall of metal containers, the opposite side of the hallway from which you stood.

He sees you and Wheeler suddenly high-five, a bright smile on your face. You looked happy around them, a trio of sorts, much like he was with Gareth and Jeff. Seeing your smile…

“Uh-oh.” Gareth grumbled beside him and he quickly shifts his gaze away from you, clearing his throat and preparing to defend himself. He wasn’t looking at you, he was just day dreaming. He didn’t even-

“Guess that’s our cue to leave.” Jeff announces, closing his locker. Eddie follows their irritancy and immediately rolls his eyes.

‘King Steve’ had entered the hallway, his presence alone making every girl swoon in his path. He was just as cocky as ever, greeting people Eddie was sure he’d never actually talked to before. It was an embarrassing display to anyone not involved.

Eddie watches as he bounds right up to where you stood, reaching over Holland’s shoulder and snatching away the cards in her hand. The look of disgust on your face almost made him laugh, but his friends were already nudging his shoulder.

As soon as he clocked Tommy H. and Carol Perkins, Eddie was out of there in a flash. His shoulder was still a little bruised from yesterday’s threat (a nice reminder that his lack of sport makes him vulnerable to the elbow of a jock) and he wasn’t up for another.

Just as Eddie is ready to turn the corner into his class, he can just see you through the swarm of busy students. Even from a distance, Carol’s shriek of a voice carried to his ears and he winced against the noise. He notices the way your face hardens to stone, slamming your locker shut and attempting to escape. But Tommy’s hand on your shoulder stops you. Eddie frowns.

“Yo!” Gareth’s head pops into his view and Eddie blinks. “Dude, we’re late, come on.”

Regretfully, Eddie averts his eyes from you, a million questions running through his mind.

“Oh, and I was talking to Sarah, you know, the blonde that steals my notes?” Gareth talks to him in hushed whispers as they head to the back of the class. “Anyway, she needs some… relief. Some relaxing. Some-”

“Yeah, okay, I get it.” Eddie hissed, slipping into a seat and batting him away.

“Good.” Gareth flashes a grin, nodding to the front of the class where Eddie can see a blonde currently entering the room. “Just let me know what time and I’ll tell her.”

They fell into silence as she took the seat in front Gareth, collecting her books. Eddie sighed, hoping tonight he could just relax. But he needed the money.

Once the teacher shouted for silence, Eddie stared down at the designated page and rolled his eyes. He already knew this stuff, another reason why high school seemed to be wasting his time lately.

Now all he had to do was wait until the minutes finally ticked away, hoping, pleading to a higher power, that maybe, just maybe, he could see you again.

His next two classes were boredom central, hours destroyed on topics of History and Geography that he had already figured out months ago.

Eddie wasn’t a dumb kid, regardless of what many of his peers, and, let’s face it, teachers thought of him. Being stuck in a trailer with a hard-working uncle only ever made Eddie realise how much he needed him. How much they needed eachother. So he picked up a few books, his freshman self adamant on graduating high school with the best qualifications to ensure them a better future.

However, his impromptu study sessions meant he was already ahead of everyone else. He tried telling his teachers, speaking to the councillor, even chatting with good ol’ Princi to bump him up a year. But they just waved him away, claiming he wasn’t advanced enough for that. So, he did what any angsty teen would do; he stopped trying.

“Watch it, freak!”

Eddie kept moving forward, barely registering the voice. He was hungry, and a little tired, and just so desperately wanted to hang out with people that didn’t feel the need to refer to him as the resident freak.

He spots Jeff’s wave from a mile away and weaves his way through students, a few grunts and slurs thrown his way. Nothing he hadn’t heard before.

Eddie leaped over to the bench, plopping himself in front of his friends and they laughed, cheering like he had just executed the coolest thing they had ever seen. And in that moment, there was pure relief. No distractions, no reasons to feel stressed.

Until a shadow fell across him and he thought he might just scream.

“Hey, freak.”

Eddie suppressed the groan that was building in his throat and clicked his jaw. “Tommy. What can I do for you?”

Tommy adjusted his varsity jacket and tilted his head, an amused smirk on his face. “I heard from a little bird that someone’s been forcing one of our cheerleaders into… well, dodgy business.”

Hellfire’s murmurs came to a screeching halt, breaths being held for as long as it took Eddie to react. Gareth looked as if he wanted to jump on Tommy but he knew better than that. Especially since Tommy’s presence was bringing in a crowd.

Eddie’s eyes flickered behind the boy’s cold hard stare and caught sight of a familiar blonde stood beside Carol. It was hard not to notice the other face that was currently searching the field for explanation.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” He shrugs, standing up and gesturing to his friends to pack up. But Tommy just steps forward.

“How about I tell our sheriff’s department about your little business, huh?” He threatens, voice low. “Maybe you could say hi to Pops after all this time.”

There was a stab where his guts were, a blinding rage. Eddie learnt a long time ago to push that feeling away. So, instead, he lowered his head and smiled.

“What you smiling at, freak?”

“Oh, nothing.” Eddie raises his head, still smirking. “Just that… if I get caught, then I’ll have no choice but to release the names of people I sold to. And we don’t wanna get your girlfriend in trouble now, would we?”

The information seemed to have hit a fuse in Tommy’s thick skull, a moment of pure surprise and panic playing on his features. He licks his lips, looking over his shoulder to where Carol began to make her way over, joining the others in the swarm surrounding them.

“Carol would never hang around with a freak.” Tommy spat, nostrils flaring in anger. It shouldn’t have made Eddie laugh, but the sight was just amusing.

“Hey, don’t blame me.” Eddie grins, shrugging. “Maybe we should be figuring out who wasn’t satisfying her.”

His laugh was brutally cut off by the sharp punch of Tommy’s fist to his cheek. It was a blinding pain he had grown accustomed to, such as the feeling of his body hitting the ground. It was stupid, to rile on someone much more athletic than he was. And yet, he just didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

As he clutched his jaw, he was already feeling the regret painting his skin.

Around him, a few murmurs and grunts echoed, different to the usual cruel laughter that would erupt after Tommy struck. Eddie rolls onto his back with a cough just in time to see Tommy’s sneaker hovering above his face and he winced in anticipation.

But nothing happened.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie opens his eyes to see Tommy facing away from him, squaring off to someone that had interrupted his little show. Propping himself up on his elbow, he cranes his neck to see… you?

“Leave him alone.” Your voice was steady, staring at his bully with such malice, Eddie wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or scared.

“Do you really want a piece of this, huh?” Tommy laughs, raising his hand. Eddie tried to push himself off the ground as quickly as possible.

Just as Eddie scrambled to his feet, he watched as Tommy’s arm swung to your head. But you ducked just as fast, springing back up and connecting your fist with Tommy’s jaw.

Eddie just stood in shock and amusement.

“Fuck!” Tommy yelled while stumbling, the group now jostling at eachother in amusement. This only angered him.

He was quick with his action, catching you off guard and bringing the back of his hand across your cheek with so much force, you were thrown to the ground.

“What the hell, asshole?!” Eddie lunged forward, but his friends had spring into action and grabbed onto his arms, keeping him away from the inevitable beating that would have ensued.

“That was too far man, back off.”

Eddie was surprised to hear Harrington’s voice bleed through the chants of the horrible peers around him. He even looked concerned, if that was even possible. Last he heard, you and Harrington hated eachother. Why did he care?

“Oh my god, Y/n, are you okay?” Nancy Wheeler was crouched beside you, doing her best to help you get up. At least Eddie knew you had one real friend.

“Fuck this, let’s go Carol.” Tommy said while leaving, noticing his mistake and disappearing as quickly as he could, the chanters quietening down but not dissipating.

They were all staring at you, some shocked, some laughing, and Eddie felt his stomach twist. He was used to that kind of attention now, but he wasn’t sure you were.

Shrugging off his friends’ hands, he moves towards you as you get back onto your feet.

“Hey, are you-”

“Just leave me alone.” You spat, not even bothering to glance back.

Just as the words spilled from your mouth, you were already running from the group, having to bump shoulders with people to get out of their poorly structured circle. Eddie watched with an aching heart as you sprinted inside the building, clutching your cheek.

You were only trying to protect him, and now it felt like his fault.

Eddie shifted to follow, but an arm obstructs his path. He turns his head to see Steve Harrington’s narrowed eyes.

“Don’t even think about it.” Steve warns and Eddie glares back at him. “You’ve done enough, alright?”

“Steve.” Nancy interferes just as Eddie pushes his arm away, hard. She nervously glances between the two. “Come on, we need to go.”

“Yeah.” Steve eventually sighs. Not before looking Eddie up and down with that disgusted glower that made his blood boil.

As he saunters back towards where he originally came from, Nancy makes a split decision to catch Eddie before he could rejoin his friends.

“Hey, um…” Nancy glances over at the building you disappeared to, “If you see Y/n, can you let her know I’m bringing her stuff with me?”

“Uh… yeah.” Eddie was surprised she even wanted to talk to him after that, more so at the fact she knew he’d be searching for you and didn’t seem upset about it.

Nancy studied him with intrigue before giving a quick smile. “Thank you.”

“Nance!” Steve called out for her and she backs away before joining him, scooping your deserted backpack into her arms.

School was declared over after the fight. Principal Higgins got word of the scrap and immediately started finding out those involved.

Tommy was never called to the office, however, his reputation among the other students clear enough to shut them up. Neither was Eddie, though that mostly stemmed from the fact that no one ever cared enough to learn his name unless they were bullying him.

Eddie almost gave up on searching for you. He was slightly impressed; when you didn’t want to be found, you made sure of it.

Then, as he turns the corner, a loud squeak bounces from the walls as someone barely manages to avoid him. Eddie immediately steps back. He could already feel a bruise forming on his jaw, he wasn’t in the market for another.

“Sorry.” He says as the same time as the other, the voice stimulating a wave of comfort in his ear.

“Y/n.” Eddie said, truly focusing on you. He tries to smile, but his eyes are widening as he sees your cheek under the artificial school lights. It was worse than he thought, a cut covering the skin with droplets of red running beneath it; the forming bruise was barely taking the spotlight. Tommy’s fucking ring.

“I need to find my bag.” You muttered, moving past him. Eddie remembered Nancy’s earlier request.

“Hey, wait.” His hand was on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him. “Wheeler. She has your bag. Everyone got to leave early since the tests were over and the principal has a lot of people to deal with for the whole fight thing.” He waved his hand in the air, hoping to brush that topic away.

“Oh. Okay. I should probably head to hers then.” You nod, but you didn’t leave. Instead, you bit your bottom lip with a soft frown. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Uh… no, not really. Me and the Princi? Oh we’re best mates. She’d never let me get in trouble.” He smirked, leaning on the wall beside him.

“You didn’t get caught, did you?” An entertained smile appeared on your face and Eddie can’t believe you figured it out that quickly.

“Ah, well, no. The majority of people didn’t even know my actual name so she has no clue.” He chuckled. He was glad, too. Wayne would be pissed if he snagged himself another suspension.

You nodded, but your brows were knitting together. He had already picked up on your expressions, making it easy for him to make a guess at what you were thinking.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, too.” Eddie reassured, reading your mind easily.

As much as he could ignore it, he kept flickering towards the cut marking your skin. It was all his fault.

“Oh, yeah, it’s okay.” You say, covering your cheek with your hand and shrugging. “I’ve had worse.”

Eddie pushed away from the wall, a bubble of unexpected concern. “Seriously?”

“Um, well, yeah. Not from Tommy.” You added like it was okay.

“Someone else hurt you?” His voice raised much to his own surprise. To think of anyone hurting you was unbearable, and it didn’t make sense to him that you’ve occupied his worried thoughts after just two days.

“What? No, it was just stuff that happened. Like, I’ve hurt myself. But, not in that way! More like, falling over, you know and, uh, running into walls, I... don’t know.” You rambled, flustering as you tried to explain yourself.

“And colliding foreheads?” Eddie smirked. He liked it when you rambled.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathy laugh. You were so unbelievably casual about the whole ordeal that Eddie felt another twinge of guilt. Even if you weren’t admitting it, he knew you’d been in a fight before. He just hated that he was the cause of this one.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His eyes were on the floor, feet shuffling.

“Do what?”

“Stop Tommy.” His voice was quiet but he still forced himself to look at your eyes when he spoke.

“Oh. It was nothing.” You reply, brushing it off.

“Nothing?” He breathed, mind racing. “You look like you went through a battle with a demogorgon!”

You gave him a look. “A what?”

Eddie gulps. No way was he nerding out in front of a beautiful girl.

“It’s a monster from DnD… it’s not important.” Eddie was rushing through his words, scared you’ll find his knowledge of the game unappealing, “What’s important is that I wanted to say thank you. You barely know me and you almost punched Tommy’s lights out.”

“That was more for me than it was for you.” You laugh and he chuckles. “I hate seeing how he treats other people. I’d do it again for you… and other people, I mean. I’d gladly beat up another… demogorgon.”

Eddie smirks to himself. Not only did you basically admit you cared about him, even if you tried to hide it, you were referencing his favourite game. Could you literally be more perfect?

And then he processed your words, “Not for yourself?”

“Depends on the day.” You smile. But it was a little sadder this time.

There were so many questions Eddie wanted to ask you. Why did you care about him? What made you so selfless? Who were you before you ended up in Hawkins?

But the bell rang, just as it always it, through the halls and he realised he didn’t have time.

“I need to…” You pointed to the doors and he nodded, stepping aside to let you go.

“Farewell, Y/n, the queen of demogorgons, No Last Name.” He bowed, making you giggle.

“And farewell to you, Eddie, the king of freaks, Munson.” You laughed, and a wide grin spread across his face as the nickname. He liked it. King of the Freaks.

He watched as you faded away, flexing your hand as if it ached. But you didn’t seem to care, which made you so much more intriguing.

And Eddie was right. You really did understand him. King of the Freaks.

The grin stained his face long after you were gone.

Chapter 3: Phantom Lord ->

taglist: @cherrymedicine13 . @nix-rose-q .

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things reader insert #raining hellfire #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #st1 #stranger things 1 #st4 #the party #hellfire club

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update!

It's been a good month since I last posted about any new finds for my Marshall collection. I dare say I've got some interesting items to show off this time! I'll try to figure out where I'm going to put them later. 😅

First up, this "Play Cup". It's basically a small coffee mug, except it's plastic and comes with a small bag of candy. The artwork of Marshall is pushed out a bit, giving it a 3D-like look instead of just being flat. I believe this item released around Easter time, but I'm not 100% sure. I was able to get this one on Ebay for a good price.

Chase also got a similar cup, but I'm not sure if the other pups got some, too. I recall seeing some of non-PAW Patrol characters, but I can't remember which ones right off hand.

Next, this insulated lunch box! Okay, I have to admit, the moment I seen that artwork of Marshall on the front, I knew I had to buy this. I mean, it's just so super-duper cute! Then again, that pup always is! 😉

Just like the Play Cup, the main artwork of Marshall here is also slightly pushed out, and it has a holographic-like outline around him, too. The material is cloth, and it has little pics of Chase, Marshall and Rubble scattered about (no Skye, Rocky or Zuma, oddly enough). There's also a little pocket on the side for a bottle. It's pretty nice!

Admittedly, when I bought this thing, I thought it was going to be kind of small. Turns out, it's nearly eleven inches tall! It easily holds the most out of all the lunch boxes I have.

Next, this micro mover of... Claw? Hey, I finally managed to obtain the last piece of merchandise of my favorite baddie from PAW Patrol! Well, the last piece available in North America, anyway. Believe it or not, they made additional items of Claw in other countries, such as the Dairy 4 Fun line of products in Germany. I don't think I'll ever own any of those, since they're surely hard to find now... and overseas shipping is usually pretty high, even for small items.

No biggie, I'm quite happy with these three items! Hey, have I mentioned lately that I'm a big fan of Claw and really hope to see him in the cartoon again someday soon? Please, Spin Master? 🥺

Last, and possible the most interesting of the items this time; this Mighty Movie theater bundle set! It came with a cup, a [removable] topper figurine, a bucket, a mask, and of course, popcorn and a drink for the movie. I got these at an AMC Theater, although I've heard other cinemas had them, too (like Regal). The whole thing cost $20.

Actually, I was worried for a while there if I was going to be able to get one or not. I figured they'd sell out quickly, and I wasn't looking forward to the idea of buying one off of Ebay for two or three times the price. Thankfully, we found out that my closest AMC Theater were selling them a day early, so we rushed up to go get one. And according to someone on Instagram, it's a very good thing that I did; they told me that, after finishing the movie, they noticed most of the kids in the lobby were wearing Marshall masks! Possibly more than any of the other pups! Wow, way to go, spotted one! 😁

Well, that's all for now! I have a friend who might send me one more Mighty Movie item that I've been looking for, but otherwise, I have a feeling this is it for movie merch. Chances are, Jungle Pups toys will be up next here in North America, since I'm sure those episodes will finally air here at the beginning of 2024. Then again, Christmas is fast approaching, so I'm sure holiday-themed products will pop up in-between time. I'll have plenty to keep my eyes open for, no doubt.

A Marshall merchandise collector's work is never done. 😅

[northwest-cryptid]

I don't collect many things, but of the things I do collect I think the most surreal is physical Mabinogi merch.

To explain Mabinogi is an MMORPG that came out in 2008 and I've been playing it ever since beta. I'd argue it has plenty of charm and enough reason even now in 2023 for anyone with even some slight interest in it to give it a shot however to me (and to my partner) it has a special place. Not only is it how my partner and I met, but it's literally a game I have played for 15 years now; considering I'm 28 that's over half my entire life.

As you might imagine back in middle school and even early high school I didn't really have a lot of money, let alone the understanding of how to order things from overseas. So a very niche MMORPG didn't necessarily have a lot of merch out and about. While most kids at my school had Pokémon backpacks or some kind of Anime plastered on their shirt (normally Naruto or Dragonball) I never had physical merch. So I was always that annoying kid who had to verbally tell you how much I liked my dumb special interest.

To give you an idea of how much this game was a part of my life, my mother once bought me an actual copy of the Mabinogion, like; the book that the game is loosely based on, it's entirely in Welsh and my mom also gave me a dictionary to translate it, I was stoked about this; I was in early high school walking around with a black book with a red symbol on the front speaking in Welsh as you can imagine this did not make me popular and cool.

Now my partner and I collect actual official merch, just last year we acquired a few magazines, guide books, and even manga. It's incredible to behold such a snapshot of time from when this was all still new and popular.

This is a guide book from back when the slogan for the game was still "fantasy life" it would later become "anime life" and a few other things; but this is the one I remember from my childhood:

We were really excited to look through this and translate it, more over we were taken aback by the system requirements listed in the guide book, I mean just check out these specs!

The funniest part is that there was a time at which I was getting a new laptop because I had to travel and I specifically gave the guy at Bestbuy this almost exact rundown for the specs I needed. This was of course because my plan was to install Mabi on it, which I did. However I had a hard time explaining to anyone why I wanted these sort of specs specifically without saying "uh so I can play an extremely niche online game from Korea?"

We also got books that were literally Item and databooks which had full lists of items you could obtain in the game as well as what races and genders could use them:

This was an absolute trip down nostalgia lane for us.

I cannot stress just how cool it was to flip through these pages and go "oh shit I had those, oh I remember that! Remember this? Yea it was from an event, damn that was a long time ago; oh god I'm old."

It's crazy to see just how much detail and effort went into these! I didn't even know they existed, if I was aware of these back in school I'd have gone ballistic over them like, check this out there's entire pages dedicated to Generation 1:

of course the merch pages caught our eye looking over all the stuff we have yet to hunt down for our collection

These books are great and I personally love the manga, illustrations of the world that I've only ever seen as low poly PMGs is such a sight to behold as a long time fan.

However you may notice something, there's not a ton of physical merch. Sure there's books and manga, and it seems like at one point there were standees and a few figures, posters, and mugs; but these days getting your hands on the rarer merch can be difficult and not to mention expensive.

That's sort of why we excitedly took matters into our own hands, slowly and methodically recreating the game's PMG models as OBJs we can actually print from our 3D printer. It's not easy but it's totally worth it.

I know this probably sounds REALLY stupid to you, and I wouldn't blame you for laughing at me for it; but the fact that I have played this game for 15 years; and today I held a 3D printed figure of a Golem in my fucking hands has me feeling a certain kind of way that's hard to explain. Knowing I could print figures of our characters, our favorite NPCs, not to mention entire dungeons and create dioramas of our favorite places from a game that means so much to me is genuinely mind boggling.

I think the part of all this that still has me in disbelief is that if you asked me what I wanted when I was a depressed 16 year old in school who came home and immediately jumped on Mabi; I'd 100% tell you that I just want to live alone with a partner who enjoyed Mabi and maybe a few cats. Now I'm 28 living with a partner who I not only met via this game but who is actually significantly better than me at it lol; we also have 3 cats and our home is slowly but surely being decorated with more and more Mabinogi crafts. I don't mean to sound like my life revolves around this game, though I admit I do laugh when my partner breaks out her signature slogan of "Mabinogi is Real Life" but I guess in a sense it just feels like I've fucking made it you know? I did it, I finally got the life I was longing for and while it may not feel real; every day this sort of thing happens makes it a littler harder to deny that I'm living the dream. I'm far from rich and I'm far from healthy; and I don't exactly have a great career or anything sure, but I think 16 year old me would be happy with the way I turned out.