#”Let’s say you have X and want Z but in order to do that you Y”

[spaghetticat3899]

When you’re trying to give someone a hypothetical example so they understand something better, then they respond as if you’re saying that’s exactly what you’re telling them to do, and you just kinda sit there wondering if you should say something or avoid the very real possibility that they’ll take your reply as an insult rather than confusion

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You���how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

(pt 2)

[allywthsr]

WISHLISTS | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and you check your kids‘ wishlists

wordcount: 1.7k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: kids

notes: I think it’s cute, what do you think?? Also Lando is older in this than he is right now :)

advent calendar

”Are they both asleep?“

”Yes, we should look at their wishlists now, and see what we can order or not.“

It was later than normal in the evening, but both kids were little troublemakers and did not want to sleep today, both of them were buzzing with excitement over Christmas. They spent the day at nana and Pop's house, and Lando’s parents made a wishlist for Santa with them today.

Louis was about to turn six years old and little Sofia was three and a half years old.

Both of them were opinionated and knew exactly what they wanted. So when Lando’s parents brought up the idea of making a wishlist with the kids, how could you say no? Normally that was a thing that Lando and you did with your kids, but you hadn’t had the time yet, so you were thankful Cisca and Adam did it for you. This year, Louis was old enough to try and write it himself, it almost made you cry looking at his scribble that had been corrected by Cisca or Adam many times, but still, it was the cutest. He was growing up too fast, when you looked at Lando and saw the little pout on his lips when you showed him the paper, you knew he was thinking the same.

Sofia‘s list was written by Cisca, and Sofia had decorated it with stickers and random streaks of colorful pens. The ’Santa‘ on top of the paper was written by Sofia, the wonky letters were different sizes and the second ’a‘ was the other way around, but you were proud of your little girl.

Lando and you sat on the couch, you were in your fuzzy socks and sweats, relaxing with your favorite hot drink, while Lando was drinking some water and was also dressed in sweats and a hoodie. It was almost Christmas and you barely had presents for your kids, a few you both picked up on some errand runs, but nothing specific.

You cuddled up to Lando and held the wishlist of your eldest in your hand.

”I‘m ready to see what an almost six-year-old wants for Christmas. I can’t believe he‘s six, we are old, Lando.“

”Probably a car like mine, yesterday he said: ’Daddy, I want to race with you every weekend‘, so I guess we need to get him in F1, and talk to McLaren about it.“

He let out a high-pitched giggle. Lando said he wanted to wait for kids after he retired, but Louis happened because you weren’t careful enough, and when you broke the news to him, he wanted nothing more than to raise this baby with you. He was only twenty-three years old when you got pregnant, and not ready to retire yet, so he gave it a year to try it out, in the end, the three of you managed it well and he didn’t need to retire. Sofia was planned, you wanted to give Louis a sibling and now he was the best big brother you could imagine for your girl. Both of your kids were totally daddy orientated, whether they were crying and needed cuddles, or they wanted to play with someone when daddy was around, he was their first choice. But when daddy said no, which barely happened, they ran to mummy and asked you, and if you said yes, you were the favorite for the rest of the day.

With your head on Lando’s shoulder, you started to read out loud.

”Alright, dear Santa, I am a good boy and have a few wishes. A new big boy bike without extra wheels, a kart like daddy had when he was younger, the new cars racetrack, a cars lunchbox, new cars, construction trucks, a real bunny, a camera like daddy, my own helmet. Thank you, Santa. That are some wishes.“

”He certainly knows what he wants, but I like most of them, we can work with that. I also love his spelling, cars with a z or boy with an i.“

You pressed a kiss to Lando’s cheek, ”he‘s all grown up, he wants a big boy bike and a kart. I don’t think I can endure another Norris in a kart.“

”Don’t worry baby, I‘ll be with him.“

You talked about putting Louis in a kart when he shows interest, but so far he only loved cars and watching daddy drive around, for a week he wasn’t able to stop talking about driving himself. Lando loved that, he started around the same age and couldn’t wait to put Louis in a kart, especially since he had his own karting team.

”I think the bike thing is something we can give your parents, we can get him the cars things, do you think he wants the lunchbox with lightning McQueen or someone else?“

”He loves this Ryan car, he’s orange and ’looks like your daddy‘, maybe we should see if we can find one with him on it.“

You hummed in agreement, ”What about the construction trucks?“

”Sure, there's probably a set with different cars inside, that would be nice.“

Again you nodded your head, ”I don’t like the bunny idea, animals shouldn’t be something that’s gifted for Christmas. We can talk about that with him next year, but not for Christmas. I want him to understand that a pet is not just a cute thing that you can pet all day long, it’s work and commitment.“

”Yeah, I agree, we’re also away a lot, we can’t take a bunny with us to the tracks, and taking care of two hyperactive kids is a chore.“

You two chuckled, ”Well, they clearly have that from you, you’re always hyperactive, Lando.“

”And I‘m proud of it, we can’t deny that they’re mine.“

”We definitely can’t. What do think about the camera? I saw on Amazon a few days ago, that there are kids cameras, not expensive and does the job.“

”I like that. And I want to make a helmet for him.“

”Do you have his measurements?“

”No, but I‘ll say Santa needs his head size if he wants to make a helmet.“

”That’s sweet. And we also have that new swing play set outside for both of them, that should be enough presents from us, right? He’s going to be spoiled from the rest of our family anyway.“

He hummed quietly and kissed your forehead.

”Onto the next one“, you mumbled, grabbing the page that lay next to you.

”Dear Santa, I am the best girl, I want for Christmas: a new Barbie doll, a new Barbie doll, a new Barbie doll, a new Barbie doll, a bunny, a pretty pink purse like mamas, a bunny stuffie, pets for my Barbie’s, the dogs from paw patrol, new hair clips, a T-shirt from uncle Carlos. Thank you, Santa.“

”A T-shirt from Uncle Carlos? What is wrong with her?“, Lando was confused.

”I think Carlos told her multiple times over Facetime a few days ago, that she should wish for a T-shirt from him.“

”I have to call him tomorrow. But why has she listed the Barbie doll four times?“

”We should call your mum and ask.“

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and clicked on FaceTiming his mum. You two greeted her with waves and ’hellos‘ when she picked up.

”We went through the wishlists and why did Sofia list the Barbie doll four times?“

”I have no clue, darlings, when I told her, I’ve already written it down, she kept on repeating I need to write Barbie doll multiple times, or else Santa won’t get her point.“

”She‘s truly Lando’s child.“

”Oh yes, I can remember Lando also did something similar when he was young.“

”Are you calling me old, mum?“

”No, my darling.“

”Cisca, we thought you and Adam could get him the bike? Or do you have something else?“

”We only have small things yet, we would love to gift him the bike. He said he wants a black one with orange and bright yellow stripes, like daddy’s helmet.“

”That’s fine, I don’t know if you want to buy it with him or without him, should he be with you while picking it out?“

”Maybe that’s better, we can say Santa told us to buy it with him, so he gets the one he wants.“

You two nodded, ”And with Sofia, we need to check first, what dolls she has and which she does not have, we don’t want to gift her some she already has.“

”Sure my darling, let us know if you have any ideas for her from her wishlist.“

All of you said your goodbyes and Lando and you went back to discussing Sofias list.

”We have to check her Barbies tomorrow when she‘s at daycare, as well as the pets she has for them, I like the hair clips and the stuffie, does she want the paw patrol dogs as stuffies or normal toys? The bunny is obviously a no.“

”Yeah, bunny’s a no, but maybe as stuffies? You know how much she loves stuffed animals, she can also play with them as if they’re normal toys. What about the purse?“

”I don’t know yet, maybe we find a kids purse somewhere?“

She may love her daddy more, but she was imitating you, all the time, playing dress up with your bags and shoes whenever she was bored.

Lando hummed to the purse idea and sighed.

”She‘s three and already wants a handbag, and I thought you would be the only one for a while.“

”She‘s a true girl, next year she‘ll ask for makeup.“

”I won’t allow her that, she can do that when she‘s eighteen.“

”Lando, when she‘s fifteen she‘ll be doing her makeup, like it or not. If she already wants a handbag, that’s the next step, soon she’ll have a boyfriend.“

”No, she doesn’t need a boyfriend, she has me and Louis, she doesn’t need different men in her life.“

”So you don’t want to have grandchildren?“

”Louis can make them.“

You decided to drop that topic, you wouldn’t be able to change his mind today.

”And what about the Carlos T-shirt?“

”I‘m not even going to give you an answer on this.“

[adorethedistance]

Baby Fever - Trevor Zegras x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, smut adjacent content (post-sex interaction/make out), a joke about cheating, a joke about death, and semen... in that order...

Words: 2322

Requested: Can you please do a trevor blurb where him and y/n go to a pumpkin patch with their nephew and Trevor's playing with their nephew and y/n gets so much baby fever please

A/n: Hey y'all! I'm taking a break from the Jamie series of firsts with a requested fic. I kinda riffed on the request so there are some things you need to know beforehand: 1) they're not babysitting a nephew, they're babysitting Troy Terry's kid Greyson 2) I'm aware Greyson is currently an infant but in this fic he's a toddler 3) I understand you asked for a blurb but I'm ass at writing blurbs 4) therefore this is a part 1. (Part 2 coming soon ish?) Enjoy!

Troy Terry had sworn to never let Trevor Zegras supervise his son. Or at least, before I was in the picture anyway. I had befriended Dani over the course of several Ducks’ games after Trevor and I became official. We somehow managed to have the same schedules despite having vastly different lifestyles; at the time, she was a new mom adjusting to domestic bliss, and I was a senior at UC Irvine preparing for my post-grad plans. Now that I’m not overwhelmed with work as a student, she and I grew pretty close. More often than not, we found ourselves having several hangouts without our guys present. Naturally, I saw Greyson a lot, considering the fact that I would spend my time with Dani in the Terry residence.

Our latest hang out consisted of us gabbing about the latest drama with Greyson’s preschool over a glass of wine. In telling me that Greyson was between daycares right now, I offered to take him off her hands for a night so she and Troy could have a much needed date night. At first, Dani refused, not wanting to dump the responsibility on me, but I insisted. There were several pros: I love kids, Dani has done plenty of favors for me before, Greyson’s already comfortable with me, and they wouldn’t have to pay for a babysitter. Pleased with my argument, Dani agreed and the plans were set. 

This Friday, the team had a day off and rather than having the guys disappear onto the nearest golf course, Dani and Troy began planning their night off, as did Trevor and I.

“Hey, babe, I was thinking about how to spoil you and thought we could get a table at The Ranch tonight. What do you say?” Trevor asks, holding my hips and subtly pinning me against the kitchen counter.

“About that.”

“What’s up?” He asks, deviously dipping his head down. I don’t give in to whatever seduction game he’s playing, and quickly peck him on the lips.

“I kind of made evening plans.” He takes the kiss in stride and looks at me teasingly.

“Is your boyfriend back in town already?”

“Yeah, he wanted to go to The Ranch, too. I just can’t have my boyfriend and my side piece in one place, soooo.” 

“I’ve been demoted to ‘side piece’? Ouch,” Trevor laughs before sliding his hands along my waistband to clasp behind my lower back, and pull me into him so our hips touch. “Fuck. Now you’ll never pick me over him!”

“Oh, that was always the plan. Don’t get it twisted.” He laughs once more before asking,

“What’s going on tonight?” I open my mouth to answer and as I do, he slips his hand down to grab my ass, catching me by surprise.

“Hey!” Right as I scold him, Jamie walks into the kitchen to refill his water bottle. I try to bite back the smile that creeps across my features, flustered by Jamie’s newfound presence. 

“Hey Jamo,” Trevor says casually, to try and ease the awkwardness.

“You guys know I still live here, right?”

“Sorry, Jamie.”

“I’m going grocery shopping. Just try to keep it in your room, Z.” 

“Keep what in my room?” He asks, playing dumb, much to Jamie’s dismay. He merely shakes his head and leaves the kitchen. Watching Jamie leave, Trevor follows with his gaze, tracking Jamie’s movements to the opposite direction until he hears the front door open and close. After, he turns back to face me, “You were saying?”

“I told Dani I would watch Greyson.”

“What?!” I half expected Trevor to be upset, but he’s sporting the widest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, she and Troy were due for some alone time, so I offered to take him to the pumpkin patch tonight.”

“When?”

“They’re dropping him off around 5.”

“5. What time is it now?” Trevor leans away from me to look at the clock on the oven that reads 2:57. “Oh, we have time.” 

“Time for wha-” I cut myself off with a screech as Trevor picks me up and sits me on the open counterspace. He pushes my knees apart to stand between them, the dominant action in tandem with the cold countertop underneath me sends shivers down my spine. He then kisses me passionately, trailing his fingers up the length of my exposed thighs. His hands find the top of my waistband, running along the hem as he presses his hard on into my core. I hold either side of his face in my hands, squeaking once more as Trevor picks me up and carries me to his bedroom.

___________________________

Panting and still slightly sweaty, I check my phone to see the clock reads 4:43. “Shit.” 

“What?” Trevor asks curiously. He’s laying on top of the covers, fully nude and sprawled out, after having collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s 4:43,” I say between sticky breaths. He shuts his eyes and groans loudly,

“Give me, like, five minutes.” 

“Uh, no sir. You need to get me a towel so I can get up and pee.” Trevor’s eyes shoot open and he sits up. 

“Right. Boyfriend duties await.” His expression is humorous and I can’t help but notice the way his abs flex through the movement. If it weren’t too late, I’d have jumped him again, then and there. He rolls off the bed, sliding on the nearest pair of briefs he can find. Trevor then grabs the towel hanging on the doorknob, and walks over to where I am on the bed, propped up on my elbows. The gravity of holding myself up causes the beaded sweat to roll down my cleavage, and on to my stomach where Trevor had finished a few minutes prior. He doesn’t say anything but I clock the way his eyes are trained on my chest as he approaches me. I hold out my hand for the towel but he holds it out of reach. 

“What are you-?” 

“Lay down.” 

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!” I confusedly put my head back on his pillow and Trevor grabs both ends of the towel, opening it up to lay it over me. “I’m calling it. Time of death, 4:44 PM. Rest in peace, Y/n, I’ll miss you.”

“Oh my god,” I say from under the towel. Pulling it off my face, I sit back up to find Trevor snickering at his own joke. “Are you proud of yourself?”

“Very.” He leans down and places a sweet kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, my eyes flutter open and he gently lifts the towel to cover his hand, then wipes off the leftover fluid. I look up at him as he moves, a soft smile of adoration painting my features. Trevor looks down at me and widens his eyes teasingly before relaxing to smile at me again.

The sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall and from the entrance we hear Jamie call, “I’m back! Please tell me you’re clothed!”

“Don’t worry about it, Jamo!” Trevor calls back before wadding up the used towel and throwing it at me.

“Ew!” I should’ve known him being sweet wasn’t going to last. Sliding off the side of the bed, I pick up my clothes and walk into the bathroom to pee. After I’m dressed again, I come out to see Trevor had thrown on the outfit he was wearing earlier: a v-neck polo and board shorts. 

“You can’t wear that,” I say in disbelief.

“Why?” Trevor looks at me in confusion. Turning to the mirror that hangs on the back of the door, he takes in the fresh hickeys littered across his exposed chest. “Oh shit.” The revelation is perfectly timed with a knock on the door. Nudging Trevor out of the way, I exit his bedroom and leave him to change. Jamie is unloading groceries with his airpods in and I wave when I walk by to signal that we’re done and he can exist peacefully again. 

Answering the front door reveals Dani and Troy in the nicest casual clothing I’ve ever seen. The Terry’s smile upon seeing me and I look at Greyson who’s sitting on Dani’s left hip.

“Hi Grey!” I cheer and he immediately smiles. I then notice Troy holding what seems to be Greyson’s booster seat and as I go to reach for it, Trevor appears behind me. Greyson runs inside and begins punching Trevor’s leg with all the might his almost-four year old arms can manage. I laugh but Dani scolds,

“Greyson, we don’t hit people, remember?” He immediately stops, thinks for a moment, and then proceeds to throw punches at Trevor but without making contact. Dani sighs exhaustedly before saying, “Good enough.”

“How’s it going, man?” Trevor asks Troy, causing Dani and me to look at the guys incredulously.

“You saw each other yesterday,” I tease. Trevor shrugs as he takes the car seat from Troy. 

“Terry’s my boy though,” He responds somewhat jokingly. Greyson then speaks up,

“What about me?” The group laughs about the sweet question but Greyson isn’t amused. He looks around, confused, before stepping further into the apartment to scope it out. Greyson then yells, “I wanna go to the pumpkin patch!”

“Read you loud and clear, bud,” Trevor replies. Then, Dani asks practically,

“What time do you need him out of your hair?” To which I reply,

“Oh don’t worry about it, we can hang onto him for as long as y’all need.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, well, his bed time is eight, and that’s usually around when we get tired anyway, so we’ll be here around then?.”

“8 it is,” I say with a smile, leaning away to look at Greyson fully. He smiles shyly before hiding his face against Trevor’s leg. “Why are you being shy, Grey-Grey?” I ask, looking down at his level. 

“I think he has a little bit of a crush on you.”

“Really?” I ask with a tiny bit of a laugh. Troy chimes in,

“Yeah, he was super excited when she told him you were the one babysitting-” 

“He’s been looking forward to it all week.” Dani finishes Troy’s sentence before they look at one another and smile, “In fact, he told me he has something to tell you, right Grey?”

“You’re pretty, Y/n,” He admits before running away, which causes the four of us to laugh.

“I told you my boyfriend was back in town,” I tease, which then makes Trevor laugh heartily. Turning back to Dani and Troy, they both look confused and I feel my cheeks grow warm in embarrassment.

“Inside joke,” I reassure. They nod and offer a few goodbyes to me, Trevor, and Greyson, before heading out for good. 

Closing the door behind us, Trevor sets down the car seat and says,

“I gotta up my game now that I have competition.”

“Yeah, so behave!” Trevor touches his left hand to his heart, giving me a look that reads melodramatically offended, “You’re currently in the lead, though.”

“I better be,” he bites back, wrapping his arm around the back of my body, coming to rest his right hand on my hip. His thumb brushes the hem and I look up at him over my left shoulder, 

“You’re still turned on?” I whisper, in shock. Trevor doesn’t reply. His hand slinks down to my ass as he kisses my lips heatedly, before he goes to follow Greyson’s path. I follow close behind and see Greyson’s found Jamie in the kitchen.

“Can I have one?!” Greyson shrieks upon finding a box of fruit by the foot. Jamie laughs at his excitement before asking,

“Do your parents even let you have sugar?” The dry humor is lost on the young child but I snort a laugh. 

“I’ve had these before in my lunch!”

“...Okay, sure. Let me open it for you. I don’t trust you to not destroy the box.”

“Jame, can you keep an eye on him for a second so we can get shoes on?” Trevor asks.

“He just got here and you’re already pawning off your responsibility on me?” Jamie playfully accuses Trevor, who looks offended. I laugh, partially at Jamie’s joke, and partially at watching Trevor misunderstand his roommate in real time. Jamie looks at me and we laugh about the joke going over Trevor’s head. 

I then head for the bedroom to search for the shoes I was once wearing. Trevor enters a little after I do to pull a pair of white sneakers from his closet. He’s uncharacteristically quiet. I almost want to ask what for, but then I’m overcome with the desire to let him stew in the silence. If I wait long enough, he’ll have to speak. He always does. Or, at least, he usually does. 

“Do you want kids?” He works up the nerve to ask, quickly adding, “Someday?” in hopes of softening the blow of the genuine conversation topic.

“Probably someday,” I answer simply, which sends him back into an introspective silence for a moment.

“How many kids would you want?” I look over at him to see he’s staring at me, as if tearing his gaze away would shatter the moment. I continue putting on my shoes,

“I think two is a good number. That way they can have a sibling, but not so many that they would feel their needs went unmet. Why?”

“I could do two,” Trevor says assuredly, ignoring my question.

“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re about two rings short of trying to have a baby with me right now,” I assert in a teasing way, although I’m not joking. The tension of the conversation dissipates as Trevor laughs. 

“Fair point,” Trevor squints his eyes at me, “But we can still practice, right?” I laugh again before nodding,

“We can at least agree on that.”

***

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed that and stay tuned for part 2 that'll drop sometime this week or next. let me know if you have a request for either Trevor or Jamie bc I'm on a ducks kick rn! Sidenote: is anyone else absolutely obsessed with the fact that we can copy paste tags now?? saves so much time !!!

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — two

part one | part two | part three

summary — peter invites her to his hockey game, and shocker, she shows up.

pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader

disclaimer — i do not own peter parker/marvel. marvel pls don’t sue me for making peter sexier 🙏

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited

Stark Memorial Rink was a lot more crowded than she remembered. To be fair, when she was there two days ago, it was during a closed practice. Now it was loud, crowded, and filled with the blaring noise of the patrons and loudspeakers.

“What are our seats again?” MJ asked, hanging off her arm with a big, goofy smile. She was dressed in an Empire State University sweatshirt—‘I have to show my school pride’, she said. Sure, that was the reason.

“Section one hundred ten, Row C, seats four and five,” she replied, her voice near robotic.

“Y’know, you can at least pretend to be excited,” MJ teased. “I’ll buy you a soft pretzel if you act like you’re having fun.”

“Woo-hoo. Yippee. Hooray,” she said monotonously, a small grin curling on her lips.

“Come on,” a whine leaves MJ’s lips, “This is cool! It’s not just any game, this is the tournament—like, national. If they win this, they’ll make it down to eight teams. Eight teams!”

“And your sudden love of hockey spawned on its own, right?” She raised a brow at her friend’s words, “Not because of some sweaty guy who likes to ice skate?”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” MJ mumbled in reply, though her eyes softened a bit, a smile adorning her painted lips. They shuffled through the crowds of people with some struggle, but eventually made it to section one hundred ten.

When she was there days ago, she hadn’t quite paid attention to the format of the seats. The assumption, though, was that they flowed in alphabetical order, making Row Z the one closest to the plexiglass. They slipped towards the steps, ready to descend just a few stairs when they looked down. A big, yellow ‘Z’ was right under their feet. That meant–

“Oh, my God.” Her voice was more like a whisper than anything.

“You said Row C, right?” MJ asked, her eyes glued to the letter.

“Row C,” she confirmed, sucking her teeth. Was it even possible? Okay, sure, this was just a university game, but this game was a big deal. The place was insanely crowded. How could he just give away seats that close to the glass?

“Well, let’s go,” MJ interrupted her train of thought, tugging her arm to follow her. One, two, three, four…they descended lower and lower until the sound of ice scraping along the skates of those practicing was louder than the buzz of the crowd. Their seats gave them a perfect view right behind the net. Purple and black jerseys whizzed by in a flurry of sticks and pucks and ice shaving off the ground. They say for a minute, soaking up the reality of where they were before MJ let out a cough.

“So, Kitty, soft pretzel?” She glanced over with a smile.

“Yeah,” she agreed, already popping up from her seat. Shuffling back to the stairs, her gaze was pulled back to the rink where she caught a flash of a neon purple ‘13’ zipping by the glass. Hazel eyes settled upon her through the brackets of the helmet—but only for one second. One small ounce of time in which their eyes connected like laser beams. And then he was gone again, and so was she.

“I’ll get you a slushie, too, if you do a little cheering,” MJ’s voice pulled her back.

“Extra large?” She raised a brow in return.

“Whatever size you want,” MJ beamed.

By the time they were back to their seats, the game was almost starting. The National Anthem was sung by a local high school talent. The team introductions flew by (MJ, of course, screaming for Harry). When number thirteen, Peter Parker, Empire State Lightning Bolts Team Captain was introduced, the thunder of feet pounding on the floor rang through the stadium. He slid across the ice in an oddly graceful fashion. He was sort of gangly, and the bulk of the uniform provided a strange juxtaposition, but his movements were clean and precise, more like a figure skater than a hockey player.

“Look at that, number thirteen,” MJ giggled into her ear, receiving a smack on the arm for her laughter.

“I have eyes, I can see.” Was her grumbled response.

The game was intense. They were single-round eliminations, meaning that if ESU lost this, they were out of the tournament. Pennbrook, in their glossy green jerseys, were just as vicious. The net in front of them was the home side first, so they were able to see every goal that was blocked, and inevitably the ones that slipped through. What seemed to (begrudgingly) stand out the most, though, was Peter.

He was aggressive. At first, she thought it was just excitement, or anger, or some irrational emotion that sent him flying across the ice and ramming into people. But the face under the helmet was always calm. Cold, even. Every outburst was a precise calculation. Yes, he was combative, but it was never out of his control. Nothing was out of his control, not even when the puck went skidding across the ice on the other side. It took him seconds to cross the rink and swoop in for quick saves. Time seemed to flash by. The buzzer signaled the end of the first period, and the teams skated back to their respective sides.

“It’s not that bad, right?” MJ nudged her, sucking down the last of her blue raspberry slushie.

“I’m definitely viewing something,” she responded in a sarcastic tone. MJ groaned, nudging her as she collected their empty cups and discarded napkins.

“Keep up the good attitude,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue as she went to throw away the trash.

The second period was similar to the first: high tensions, high testosterone. By the third period, the score was 4-5 with Pennbrook taking the lead. It was, of course, only a momentary lead. A play by Harry and Miles tied them up again, and then a swift shot by Zack got them the lead. Pennbrook’s number ‘36’ had been on Peter’s ass nearly the entire game. He was always so close that half of the ice shavings on Peter’s ankles were probably from him. But it hadn’t been anything more than a chase until Peter brought the score up to 7-5.

The movement was quick, but not nearly as unnoticeable as he likely intended. While sliding behind the net, 36’s elbow came up to check Peter. He was probably aiming for his shoulder, but everything just came out wrong: Peter turned his head toward 36, 36’s elbow jabbed at an awkward angle, and the hit ended up slamming into Peter’s face.

Her breath caught in her throat. When he turned back to the plexiglass, blood was dripping down his chin. He’d been clipped just right so that his lip busted against the hard plastic of the mouthguard. Resounding ‘boos’ sounded through the stadium, but the sounds fell deaf on her ears as she watched Peter throw off his glove and swipe the blood from his skin. It was like she could see the gears turning in his head. Hit, blood, fight. He looked to 36, ready to raise his bloodstained fist. Then, for just a second, his eyes flitted to her.

He knew she was there. He knew she was watching. None of the hardness left his eyes, but there was something new there, too. Pride, maybe? Excitement? It lingered in his vision the entire time his eyes were on hers. When his bloodied lips curled into a smirk, she forced herself out of the breathless haze she was caught in. She was only concerned because that was the normal human reaction; you see someone get hurt, you worry. Or you laugh. It wasn’t like she was—

Peter’s fist connected with 36’s cheek. She could hear the hard smack through the glass to Row C. 36 stumbled back on his skates but regained his balance. Before he could deal a blow, refs blowing hopelessly on their whistles swarmed the two, pulling them like two growling dogs. Once again, Peter looked up at her, making sure that she was still watching. When he smiled at her, she could see that his teeth were now coated in blood from the wound on his lip.

“Holy shit!” MJ was squealing, but her voice was lost on the girl next to her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Yeah, holy shit.”

Neither Peter nor 36 were let back on the ice for the rest of the game. A penalty was dealt to ESU, but any other punishment was still unknown. She watched the rest of the game on high alert, trying to stop her eyes from traveling to the penalty box where Peter was seated. It was hard to view him from her position, but she could see a shock of brown hair every once and a while.

When the game was over, ESU had won 8-7. The crowd roared as the buzzer sounded, and when MJ shot up, she joined her. Adrenaline shot through her as she watched the guys on the rink scream and nearly slam into each other. Her view, though, quickly adjusted to Peter as he fled the penalty box. He slid onto the ice with the same practiced ease he’d used during the game. She could see him say something to Zack as he grabbed him by the shoulders. When his eyes finally landed on her, her pulse thrummed in her ears. He knew she was watching him, and that’s just what he wanted her to do.

“Where y’headed?”

The sound of someone’s voice nearly made her throw her water bottle. She’d only just left Xavier Hall when she was accosted (or rather spoken to) by someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Her head whirled around to meet hazel eyes and a busted lip.

“Are you stalking me?” She spat out, her eyes wide.

“Stalking you? Oh, my God, no,” Peter laughed, wincing when his split lip tugged into a smile, “I used to do a little photography for the paper, I know where the meetings are.”

“Right,” she nodded, “But, like, how did you know I would be leaving right now?”

“Lucky guess?” He suggests, cocking his head in a boyish way. She narrowed her eyes, but before she could say anything, he was already speaking again; “Saw you at my game yesterday.”

“It technically wasn’t your game. It was the team’s game. Both teams’ game.” Her voice was pointed as she spoke. When she began walking down the stone pathway that led to a dining hall, Peter followed without question.

“But I was there,” he responded, “And so were you.”

“MJ didn’t want to miss it,” she dismissed his words.

“Oh, yeah, she and Harry are getting pretty serious,” he hummed.

“Mhm,” she replied. She didn’t want to look at him, really. Every time she did, her gaze was drawn to the nasty gash on his lips. Her eyes, however, decided to betray her. She studied it, the way it moved with him, the way it would inevitably split further each time he grinned.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Peter said, almost as if he was reading her mind. Her eyes shot up to meet his.

“Did you get kicked off the team or something?” She asked as if she didn’t already know the answer.

“Hell no,” he laughed, “Just a slap on the wrist. Couldn’t finish out the game, but you already knew that.”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, “I would’ve thought there would’ve been a little more.”

“I’ve never really gotten in a fight–and that wasn’t even a real fight,” he grinned

“So was that just you showing off or something?” Her brows creased.

“Something like that.”

They reached the entrance of the dining hall. Peter, in all his gangliness, was able to swipe his card before her and open the door. His smile just seemed to widen as she eyed him with a generous amount of suspicion.

“Thanks,” she said slowly as she stepped through the door.

“No problem,” he replied, “See you around, Kitty.”

“You can’t call me—”

He was gone before she could finish her sentence. The door fell shut in his absence, and she watched him walk away through the glass. He carried on down the pathway with his hands shoved into his pockets. A groan slipped from her lips when she realized that she was just staring at him. Her body moved into the dining hall, but her mind wandered (unwillingly) to Peter. He was annoying, and cocky, and smiled way too much for someone with a busted lip. Yet, the main thing stuck in her head was his hazel eyes and the way he watched her with them.

a/n — hey babes!! thanks for the love on this series so far. i’m not sure how long it’s gonna be, but i def have some plans, it’s def gonna get smutty at some point. anyways, hope you enjoyed!!

[s1llysmut]

Hey, boss can we get an order of the nsfw alphabet for Emily with a bf? And maybe a side of fluff?

A/N: Of course! Sorry for not responding sooner, I got in a pretty nasty car accident recently. Anyways I wasn’t really sure what you meant by a side of fluff so I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

NSFW alphabet for Emily

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s so cuddly and clingy. She won’t let you leave her even for just a second.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favourite part of herself is her wings because she thinks they’re super pretty and cute (they are), her favourite part of you, well she says it’s your heart but she’s also got a thing for your torso. Abs or not, she’s gonna stare.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She wants you to cum in her every single time. She really likes the idea of having a baby with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She likes the idea of being punished. Angel in streets but a freak in the sheets of you know what I mean.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She’s pretty naive when it comes to this stuff. It’s kinda cute though.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or riding you. She wants to see your face. Even though her eyes are closed most of the time.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She’s a bit of both. Depends what you want.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She keeps it well trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

She’s pretty romantic. She will wanna hold your hand the whole time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She bumps your pillow a lot. But if you ever caught her she’d just die of embarrassment.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Light BDSM. She likes the idea of being punished when she’s “bad”.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you start kissing her neck and playing with her wings she will melt.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

She won’t hurt you. She doesn’t want to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She prefers giving. She’s generous by nature. She’ll look up at you with big innocent eyes.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She lets you set the pace. She submits to you entirely.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She doesn’t really like them but if you want one she won’t say no.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She doesn’t like the idea of being caught or seen that way by others. She will try out new kinks though as long as it’s in private

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She can go for as long as you want. She doesn’t care as long as you’re happy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She doesn’t own any but if you wanted to use some she’s be down to try it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not at all. She can’t handle the idea of teasing you. She thinks it’s mean.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She can be quite loud. She lets out breathy moans and whimpers.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When you’re eating her out she giggles a bit. She says it tickles.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

B cups and perky nipples.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very high but again she’ll go along with whatever you want.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty much immediately as long as she’s cuddling with you.

[eggluverz]

TASTE OF THE UNIVERSE

PAIRING. jing yuan x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1,600

GENRE. fluff, pure fluff

SUMMARY. in which jing yuan occasionally gets tired of being general and you are there to cheer him up. but what exactly are you to him? jing yuan thinks you’re more important to him than you probably know. 

NOTE. brain empty jing yuan thoughts only _(:3」z)_ if anyone else has jing yuan thoughts feel free to share my ask box is open <3 in the meantime, pls enjoy !! xx

Jing Yuan joined the Cloud Knights to escape a life of boredom that was bound to await him if he followed his parents’ wishes and joined the Realm-Keeping Commission. And while he believed he ultimately made the right decision for his life, there were parts of being leader of the Cloud Knights that didn’t align with the future he had always dreamed of when he was a child. 

Some days, especially those days filled with stacks upon stacks of papers, Jing Yuan wished he could ignore his duties and explore the galaxies. Though, he reckoned everyone with any sort of career must have felt that longing before. Longing for a different life, different experiences, more time to explore. 

Such was human nature, after all. 

At least during those times that being a Cloud Knight general felt overbearing, Jing Yuan had you to alleviate the feeling. 

His relationship with you was nothing more than a friendship if you based it solely on labels. That is to say, neither you nor Jing Yuan have called each other anything but a friend. However, it’d be a lie for him to say he had never felt the implications of anything more with you. 

You were just friends, yet he gravitated towards you when he craved someone’s warmth and solace. 

You were just friends, yet you insisted on getting dinner with him whenever you could after work, no matter how late his nights were. 

You were just friends, yet Jing Yuan found himself wishing it was something more. 

With that wistful thought, he pulled out his communication device and opened his messages with you. To his delight, he found an unread message from you only half an hour ago. 

Y/N: Hey! :) How’s your day going? If you’re not too busy today, do you want to have dinner with me again? 

His eyes lit up at the invitation. He had piles of paperwork to get through, and Luofu’s duties were ones he would never neglect so long as he was the Arbiter-General of the Cloud Knights. But leaving some of the matters with less urgency to be dealt with tomorrow in order to make it to dinner with you was something he could accept. Not so much neglecting as it was prioritizing, he called it. Or work-life balance, as you had told him.

Jing Yuan: Good afternoon, Y/N. My day is good. Better, now that I saw your message. And yours?

Jing Yuan: As for dinner, perhaps we can go to my place today? I can have the chef prepare your favorite foods if you wish. 

He let out a soft sigh he’s been holding in. While it was common for the two of you to see each other, having dinner in a more private, intimate space wasn’t something regularly on the agenda. But if Jing Yuan wanted to get to know you on an even deeper level, he reckoned dinner at home would be a good step. 

Y/N: My day is also good! 

Y/N: I’d love to have dinner at your place. But maybe we can give your cook a break tonight :)

Y/N: I visited Belobog for my last vacation and learned how to make Snapper Jam during my time there. Since you’re too busy to visit yourself, maybe I can make it for you! You can have a little taste of another planet. 

Y/N: Though… I won’t have the ingredients from Jarilo-VI, but we can make substitutions accordingly! 

Jing Yuan chuckled to himself. Of course it’d be rather difficult to make authentic Belobogian cuisine without the exact ingredients, but he trusted your imitation would still be delightful to the taste. 

Besides, it was the thought that counted most and the fact that you wanted to share a part of the galaxy you experienced with him meant more than the quality of the meal. 

Jing Yuan: Hahaha, I’d be delighted to taste your cooking. Let me know what ingredients you need. I’ll have someone gather them before you arrive. 

Y/N: Okay! I’ll send a list soon. 

Y/N: I’ll see you in a few hours! :)

Jing Yuan: I’ll be counting down the seconds! 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

You weren’t one to be particularly bashful around Jing Yuan. Perhaps in the beginning when you only knew him as general of the Cloud Knights. But the more you got to know him, the less hesitancy you felt in opening up. Now, you would consider him one of your closest friends. 

A close friend who occasionally gave you butterflies and heart palpitations, naturally. 

And tonight happened to be one of those occasions. 

You haven’t been alone in Jing Yuan’s home before— Or rather, Jing Yuan’s palace is a term more befitting. Despite the vastness of his living quarters, there was an air of intimacy still present in the room. 

Jing Yuan watched as you cooked a meal for him in his kitchen, asking if he could help in some way even though you knew that man had not had to cook for himself a day in his life. You asked him to prepare some vegetables as the sides while you worked on the main dish. 

When the two of you finished, you had a smile on your face. One the Jing Yuan matched. He placed your plates on the dining table, making sure the two of you were seated side-by-side. You poured a glass of wine for him before filling up your own cup. 

“Cheers to this delicious meal made by the lovely Y/N,” said Jing Yuan with a grin, ready to toast. 

You clinked your glass against his, not breaking eye contact as you had your first sip. “With the help of the even lovelier Jing Yuan, of course.” 

“Naturally.” He smirked. His tone changed into that of a more serious one as he took a bite of the Snapper Jam. “I don’t know if I expressed it well, but I truly am grateful that you did this for me. It’s almost like I’m in Belobog myself.” 

You laughed off his compliment, knowing your dish tasted almost nothing like its Belobogian counterpart. But there was only so much you could do without the authentic ingredients. You hoped you were able to do it some justice— Enough to make it enjoyable for Jing Yuan at least. “Well, if you can’t travel the universe yet, I can at least try to bring the universe to you.” 

“You already have,” he said, “even without the food.”

Placing another bite of fish in your mouth you raised your brow in question. “How so?” 

“You’re here with me aren’t you?”

It dawned on you that he was flirting with you. In the cheesiest most poetic way possible.

A giggle escaped your lips as the realization set in. “General Jing Yuan,” you said teasingly, “if you’re not more careful with your words, I’ll start thinking you’re hitting on me.” You paused. “Unless, that is the intended implication.” 

“And if it is?” In contrast to his usually impeccable table matters, he rested his elbow on the table and propped his head on his palm, staring up at you with hooded lids. An almost cocky smile spread across his face, but his eyes shined bright and hopeful. 

“I can’t say I’d be opposed,” you said, pretending to be nonchalant about the entire thing. That didn’t last for long before you burst out into a smile, almost bouncing in your seat. “In fact, I’d be rather ecstatic if that were the case. Almost happy enough to kiss you.” 

Jing Yuan instantly straightened up at that, no longer lazily leaned over the dining table with that cool composure of his. He craned his neck sideways, examining you with his intense stare. 

“How do we get you even happier then?” he asked, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Would confirming I am flirting with you be enough to suffice?” 

You nodded, taking another sip of wine to quench your suddenly dry throat. 

“I do like you,” he said sincerely, turning in his dining chair so that he was facing you directly. “And while it may be too soon to truly say you are my universe, I have no doubts it will get to that point, if you’ll only allow it.” 

“I like you, as well,” you admitted, placing your hand on his cheek and leaning forward for a kiss. Jing Yuan’s eyes never left yours even as he reached out to cup your jaw. “And you’re well on your way to being my universe, too.”

He let out a low chuckle, brushing your lower lip with his thumb. “Then… What are we waiting for?”  

You replied simply by tilting your chin up and meeting his mouth with yours. His lips felt warm and inviting and you instantly hoped there would be more of this to come. The half-eaten food sat almost forgotten on the table, but you had more pressing matters to attend to. 

For now, all you could focus on was Jing Yuan’s lips moving against yours, his hand making its way down to the small of your back, his knee brushing against your upper thigh. 

Him, him, him.

The thoughts were all-consuming as you melted into the kiss. You wanted nothing more than to enjoy this moment with him. And you knew he felt the same. 

Slowly, you pulled away as he rested his forehead gently against yours. His golden eyes burned deep into your own and you found yourself unable to look away. 

“Wow.” Jing Yuan smiled as he licked his reddened lips. “The universe sure tastes wonderful.”

[pommpuriinn]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 4

๋࣭⭑ pairing ๋࣭⭑- idol!yeonjun x superstar!oc x idol!jungkook

๋࣭⭑ synopsis ๋࣭⭑- a love triangle between Hollywood’s sweetheart, Korea’s golden maknae, and Gen Z’s IT boy. Estrella is a very busy woman never had time dating with all her photoshoots, movie offers, recording sessions, dance practices, and public appearances. As she’s doing a little world tour promotions for her latest mini album ‘You & Me’, and let’s just say that stop last a little longer and it becomes a little too interesting.

๋࣭⭑ a/n ๋࣭⭑- jk enters the chat (∩˃o˂∩)

outfit | makeup | hair | nails

Today is hybe day which Estrella was pretty excited about, and it’s definitely not to see a boy that she’s been looking at all his videos since last night. No, never that. Megan did give her a little talk in the car about the dating life between idols which shocked Estrella with how extreme the fandom could get over their idol dating. Did it shock Estrella? Yes, but did it scare Estrella? No.

“So who’s taking me on this tour?” Estrella and her team got out of the car, and the fans that were waiting instantly started cheering. Estrella waves and smiles while Megan started explaining, “BTS’s Jungkook is your tour guide along with his translator.” Estrella nods at Megan while continuing her fanservice before making it through the entrance doors. The team was met with workers and security already signing them in and giving each one badges to enter further into the building. “Woah, their security goes crazy.” Daya says while looking at her visitor badge. “They even have face recognition to enter!” Sana was in awe, “we should get this back home.” Sana adds while passing through the mini gate.

Just around the corner Estrella spots Jungkook with his translator talking. Again Estrella was shocked with how handsome these idols are, and once her eyes land on his tattoo sleeve it was over for her. Of course she hid her attraction and kept it professional. “Hello~” Estrella gives them a little bow which they immediately reciprocated back. “Hello, I-I’m Jungkook.” He stutters. Estrella giggles at his natural cuteness plus how cute his voice is when speaking English. “Your English is so cute.” Estrella compliments. Jungkook quickly shakes his head ‘no’ while laughing feeling flustered. After the cute interaction the translator introduces herself as, Jiwon.

As they starts their tour, Estrella completely forgot that there will be a camera following them as they are filming this whole thing. “Oh, hi~” Estrella waves at the camera, making Jungkook chuckle. “She’s better with the camera than me.” Jungkook points out. “I am?” Estrella sends Jungkook a teasing smile. Jungkook gasps, “you know Korean?” The group laughs. “A little bit, I been studying.” Estrella flips one her braids back acting cocky. Jungkook already ready to risk it all for Estrella. I mean who can blame him she’s a beautiful talent woman.

Jiwon showed Estrella the cafeteria, the mini cafe, and all the lounge rooms. “Megan we need the mini cafe back home.” Estrella jokingly whines, causing small laughs from the staff. Megan shakes for head ‘no’ and tells her to focus making the staff laugh harder at the two’s relationship. “Do you want something?” Jungkook offers looking down at Estrella. “Really?” Estrella’s doe eyes unleashed. Jungkook’s heart beats faster. Jungkook hums and nods back at Estrella, he couldn’t trust his words afraid of stuttering. Jungkook takes everyone to cafe the building has and waits for Estrella to make her decision. “I want…matcha!” Estrella points at the matcha latte. Jungkook couldn’t help but snicker at her puppy like behavior. Before ordering Jungkook asks if any of the staff want anything including Estrella’s team. Which surprised them and asks if he was sure, and he confidently says ’yes so he ended up ordering Estrella, Daya, and Sana’s drinks.

Just as he was finish Estrella hugs his arm, “thank you~” Jungkook learns sooner than later that Estrella is a very touchy person, but he doesn’t mind at all. It’s refreshing actually since Korean people are more reserved than where she’s from. Even Jiwon was a bit shock at Estrella hugging Jungkook’s arm, but she quickly brushes it off. The group moves along with the tour, “so we are going to show you the practice rooms where our artists spend most of their time here. We actually might run into some of them.” Jiwon explains. As they move closer the music from room 1 was getting louder. “Let’s see who’s in this room.” Jiwon knocks before entering. Estrella sees five girls dancing, but quickly they stop and start bowing towards them. “Oh my god, it’s Estrella!” One of the members gasp covering her mouth.

“This is Le Sserafim one of our girl groups here.” Jiwon introduces Estrella. “Hi, I’m Estrella nice to meet you.” Estrella waves. “I’m Yunjin and I’m such a big fan.” Yunjin smiles brightly, trying to hold in her excitement. “You are? Thank you!” Estrella comes up to her to hug her which Yunjin starts freaking out. The Le Sserafim members laugh at Yunjin’s reaction. “This is the best day ever.” Yunjin fans her face. “Maybe you guys should show her your performance?” Jiwon suggests, the group immediately got into position. Estrella went back and stood next to Jungkook while sipping on her matcha latte. As they were performing ‘Antifragile’ Estrella whispers over to Jungkook, “you should show me your performance too.” Jungkook glances at Estrella who was watching Le Sserafim. “I’m recording for my solo album.” He answers, but he still wants to see her even after this so he had to shoot his shot. “Why don’t you come back over to my studio?” Jungkook is now fully looking at Estrella waiting for an answer, but also admiring her side profile. “Ok,” she shrugs. Estrella makes sure no one is watching them and fully paying attention to Le Sserafim. She gets closer to Jungkook, “but let’s be alone.”

‘Who knew the Korean language could sound much sweeter coming from Estrella’s mouth’ Jungkook thinks while getting dizzy off of Estrella’s flirting. Whoever was teaching her Korean Jungkook wanted to thank them personally because they are doing wonders. Estrella giggles at how Jungkook hasn’t responded, and how his ears have turned pink after her response. She knew she got him.

Estrella thank Le Sserafim for performing for her, they even took a few photos before the group leaving their practice room. “Actually if we move further down another group is practicing.” Jiwon led the group to another practice room. “This group is Jungkook’s junior group called Tomorrow x Together, and they are currently practicing for their tour that is coming up this week.” Hearing the familiar name Estrella knew exactly who’s on the other side of the door.

‘Yeonjun~’ Estrella sighs dreamily in her head. Jiwon again knocks before entering, and there was Yeonjun center dancing away with sweat dripping down. The second their eyes meet Yeonjun almost trips on his own feet. Estrella gives Yeonjun a shy small wave along with sending him a smile anyone would fall for. All the tiredness left his body and continued to give 100% for the rest of the song. Jungkook didn’t miss this interaction especially the switch from flirty to shy. ‘There’s someone else on her mind too’ Jungkook noted.

Soon after the group was done practicing they introduced themselves. The whole group grew shy around Estrella their staff even asked “what’s with the change of attitude?” Just a few minutes ago they were goofing around yelling, and now they’re hiding their ears while standing straight being quiet. “They’re cute~” Estrella wanted to tease them more, and the second she said that they broke character and started hiding their cheeks while looking away from her. The whole room erupts in laughter from the obviously shy boys.

After the room calms down Jiwon asked the members to introduce themselves which they gladly did. “Hello I’m Estrella.” Estrella waves at them also wanting to introduce herself. “Woah, they’re all so tall.” Estrella is amazed by their height compared to how tall she is. The members grew even more shy with her compliments instantly thanking her. “Estrella-ssi should stand next to you guys to see how far she can reach.” Jiwon suggests. “Oh, ok.” Estrella left Jungkook’s side he almost wanted to grab her hand to hold her back, but he knows he couldn’t. Which hurts even more.

In comparison Estrella is 5’5 so imagine her next to a 6’ foot man, and she has little heels on which don’t give her much. “Oh my god.” She covers her mouth, as she looks up at Soobin who was also surprise by their height difference. “Let’s compare hand sizes!” Yeonjun immediately cuts into their little moment. “Your hands are tiny~” he teases her, earning him a little push from Estrella.

Why was Jungkook feeling a bit insecure/jealous with 6’ foot men surrounding Estrella and touching her. He has to shake those thoughts out of his head remembering that he was going to have Estrella to himself during their studio session. He just has to be patient for now.

“Um, before you leave we wanted to ask you if you will like to come to our opening concert?” Kai cutely asks. “Really?!” Estrella looks at Megan almost like a little kid asking for permission. “Just send the info and we’ll see.” Megan nods. Estrella returns to her professional self and thanks txt for the invite along with saying her ‘byes’, as the groups moves on to different areas of the building again. Jungkook was happy to have Estrella’s attention back on him, he even started questioning himself about how fast he basically caught feelings for Estrella. Even though they just met each other. 

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

The tour finally came to an end and it was time to officially say ‘goodbye’. “I had lots of fun today along with meeting Jungkook,” she hugs his arm again making him start beaming. “And Jiwon who was a great translator and teacher.” Estrella hugs Jiwon fully. “I also want to thank Hybe for having me, thank you~” she waves at the camera before they shut it off. Estrella once again says thanks for everyone before facing Jungkook. “Here,” Estrella hands Jungkook a little napkin with black ink on it. “It’s my number. Text me.” She smirks and walks away to her team, leaving him flustered mess.

Even though Estrella was trying to be sneaky about it someone was watching from afar. “I guess I have competition.” Yeonjun snickers.

 taglist»-♡→ @iveivory @jjkluver7 @lively-potter @angie-x3

[stevenssticks]

reader absolutely breaking axl and making him beg and cry and just degrading him over all PLEASE

bia you really just get it.

i can imagine him giving you a hard time all day. he would be ordering you around, acting all big and tough. you’ve just about had enough of him telling you to go fetch him x y and z, having you running back and fourth from stores to the studio for food, drinks and whatnot. finally he stops asking you for things, as he’s now too busy chatting with the rest of the band about how “easy” you are. that’s it for you. you’re going home. you abruptly stand up from your chair in the corner of the recording studio, shooting axl a glare that says “you’re fucked” and you watch as his face drops while you storm out of the studio back to your apartment. you’re supposed to stay at his tonight, actually. this just digs the knife deeper.

axl of course comes looking for you like a lost puppy. he knows he fucked up. he comes home to his apartment first to not find you there. He practically sprints to your house. frantically knocking on your door. he would have this sad look in his pretty green eyes when you open the door. pulling him in by the arm and slamming him up against the now closed door.

“you think you can just fucking say that shit about me? nuh? we both know who the easy one really is in this relationship. now go to the bedroom and strip.”

Axl nods enthusiastically, dashing to the bedroom to do as he’s told. You follow him soon after, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head down. his silky hair covering his eyes.

“i’m really sorry, baby. i don’t know why i said the things i did.” axl looks up at you through his bangs, eyes a little watery.

“i think it’s a little too late for a half assed apology. get on the bed.”

axl of course, does as he’s told. he’s already half hard. you straddle him, still fully clothed. and take his cock in your hand. axl whines, abs tensing and flexing.

“you’re gonna take what i give you. and you’re not gonna cum until i say. if i deem you deserve it at all.” you begin to move your hand over him. starting off slow, then moving fast and hard before slowing down again. axl is writhing on the bed. when he gets too rowdy you give a hard slap to his hip and slow down again.

“gonna cum. please, lemme cum i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” axl whines. voice almost as high as when he’s singing. you slap his hip again, harder than before. axl nearly shoots off the bed.

“no.”

axl is so wet and messy by now. you’ve been bringing him to the edge over and over again. his cock is covered in precum, and he’s got tears running down his cheeks and drool running down the side of his cheek; unable to control the sounds that come out of his mouth anymore. letting out little “ah ah ah”s and long strung out whines.

“please… please i’m sorry. i swear i’ll never say anything like that again. please.” he’s full on sobbing by now. you’re slowly moving your hand over him. you’ve worked him enough, you’ve decided. but you wanna hear him beg for it one more time.

“beg for it, baby.”

“fuck, please. i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry. please…. i need you. fuck me. i want you so bad. i’m so sorry.” he’s sobbing even harder now. you’ve never seen him this messy and strung out before.

“okay, honey. i forgive you.” you remove your hand from his cock and he lets out a sigh as he watches you pull your pants and underwear off. you lay down next to him, beckoning him over. he crawls on top of you. cock rubbing up against your pussy nice and slow before pushing into you. he nearly loses it right then and there. he leans down on top of you, needing to be as close as he can to you. he cradles your neck with his hand, bringing your faces close to give a sweet kiss on your lips.

“i’m really sorry, honey. i love you.”

“i know,” you reply, and smile as he starts to move. “now cum for me.”

it doesn’t take axl long, as worked up as he is. tears still falling even if he’s not openly crying anymore. he’s so overwhelmed. a mix of shame and relief bubbling up inside him.

“oh fuck, you feel so good. please… oh fuck i’m cumming. fuck. there’s so much. there’s so much. oh my god..”

you lock your legs around his waist. keeping him pressed up against you as he comes down from his high, hips circling slowly and making punched out “uh uh uh”s as he slows.

you smile up at him, kissing his cheek and then planting a warm kiss on his lips.

—

ok i’m not sure about this bc i’m on vacation and like was only half present to write this lmfao. sorry if it’s not my best work. i’m probably gonna go back and edit this when i’m home :)

[dreamyzhou]

Iodine, Livermorium, and Uranium

Pairing: College softie!Hyunjae x Eric's sister!reader

Genre: Contemporary college rom-com

Words: 4,8k

Warnings: Eric is your younger brother and he calls you Noona time to time, swear words, rats, Gen Z jokes, Kendrick and Drake drama, food (ice cream, barbecue, and rice), mentions of alcohol, you and Hyunjae are of same age, a lil suggestive in the end (??!!!), kissing [idek if some of these should be a warning, but i care if you get hurt by a fanfic i write, so imma just put it]

Inspired by: Hasan Minhaj (overall him as a comedian, artist, and a person), because he taught me how to be funnier than I was before all this.

Premise: When your brother, Eric, said he will sit in Chair 16 in Chemistry, he knew you were about to come early to pull it before he gets to sit. And when you did, you realized it was a set up.

Dedicated to Izzy @from-izzy who I kept reminding myself of when I wanted to give up on this fic.

1st fic of 31st Alternate Universe by Ellie unlocked by Hyunjae.

[7:59 A.M]

Three knocks. All it took was three knocks on your wooden bedroom door to be prepared and put up a sleeping act.

"Y/N, first day of college! Wake up!" A kick on your door and a hyperactive male voice with volume boosted with megaphone almost shattered your eardrums.

Tense muscles rose your spine. Then, you looked at the kid in front of you with his "I love LA" shirt. In all honesty, you weren't prepared for that one.

"That was creative, I'll give you that..." You took a portion of your blanket to wrap yourself a fluffy cocoon of cotton.

"Creative? Dude, that was genius. World record on actually making half of your body get up at the least! You know you need a permit to use these?"

You looked at him with the most judgemental eyes you ever gave to anyone.

"You got a permit... just to wake me up?"

"...No, my firefighter friend did. I just borrowed it from him!"

"What if he got into trouble for your misuse?!"

"Relax! The fact that he gave it to me is already a misconduct... Now, it's third week of October..."

"So?" You groaned as you went back to your dream shell. The sight of your laziness rolled Eric's eyes, he turned the megaphone's volume to the maximum.

"So! Get yo ass out of bed, She-Who-My-Grandma-Compares-Me-With! First person to get the bathroom, gets all the hot water!"

All the melatonin in your brain disappeared in a snap of Thanos' finger. Every muscle strand in you responded within 0.01 second as you ran to the bathroom. Eric pulled your elbow to the back, causing you to lose balance for awhile. You took a sandal lying around somewhere, then threw it to his head. Unfortunately for you, as the sandal was in the air, the blond-haired Jerry to your Tom closed the bathroom behind him.

"Ugh!"

"I win!"

"Bleh, bleh, bleh... Whatever!"

You turned around, walking to your bedroom. Trying to construct new activities you should be doing for your first day in third year of university, but... let's just say it takes energy to think. Your usual routine was one hour of waking up, half an hour of breakfast, and breakfast while running. It was a decent routine, but you needed to keep them in order. You recalled yesterday when you brought a hot waffle to the bathroom, you let it cool down as you showered, and by the time you're finished you ate it. It invited a married rat couple who had many babies.

Yesterday? Hold on—

There was a screech coming from the door that got hit by the sandal.

"Uh... Noona? You can have the shower first... I'm in the mood to be nice today!"

"No, a deal's a deal..." Letting out an intentional maniac laugh, you were glad you can just use the guest bathroom (which was never the option because for some peculiar reason, the water was never hot.

"Fuck you!"

[8:43 A.M]

You accompanied your brother to the room they needed him and the rest of the first-year students. There was a third-year student volunteering to help out the first-years with their orientations and such, and you told Eric he could always go to them. The clock indicated it was almost the time you both needed to go your own ways. He looked back at you, as if shy to say something then he entered the room that hadn't close its doors.

You knew this habit of your brother's that somehow helped managing his anxiety a bit. Looking at an older sister figure seemed to ease him as if everything will be alright as long as you were there. You never really got an explicit expression of how good you are of a sister, but it was never about you when it comes to Eric. It was just about the fact that you helped him no matter if it was just by being there for him.

"Hey, Eric?" He already took two steps in the room, but your call turned him around.

"Yeah?"

"You're still ten centimeters shorter in my eyes..." Eric laughed at the insult that he disliked the most, but only if other people said it.

"And you are still screaming Justin Bieber's Baby lyrics with your brush in my eyes."

He approached you and you two did the sibling handshake that you both never made a mistake in for years.

"Don't forget to drive a sister home at 2:30, okay?"

"Won't!"

[3:16 P.M]

Unlocking the flat you shared with your little brother with the cold keys, you sighed as you entered the place. Eric promised to take you home, but you just got off the taxi and paid what could be the price of a fast food meal. You sensed danger when you heard, what you made up as, two males talking... and laughing. You hoped it was Eric, but their voices weren't the high-pitched and hyperactive kind. They were talking about... Drake?

"Oh hi, Noo—" POW!

Whether it was your reflexes that didn't even let him finish the word that could have make you (and his forehead) feel at ease or the fact that Eric was just unwise to be behind you while you were in your flight-or-fight mode... nobody knows.

"What'd you do that for?!" He screeched as he held his forehead.

He went to the mirror near the door, one that he installed for "fashion" purposes.

"Look at this! I got a sole with a Nike logo printed on my head!"

You didn't really care about how much it hurt as he was speaking about it. You went to the living room at started your own lecture on how ditching on one's sister is not nice. You didn't even introduce yourself to the two guys who were looking at you, not knowing what to do.

"Like dude, where were you?! I texted you and called you, but apparently you were inviting two strangers to talk about that Hotline Bling dude! Also who invites a stranger home— did you forget that you were almost kidnapped because you didn't listen to Mom's stranger danger lecture—"

"Y/N, there is a pint of Cookies and Cream ice cream next to the ice cubes in the freeze—" You smiled instantly and ran excitedly to the freezer.

The two 'strangers' were left agape that it took you food to earn your silence.

"Hotline Bling dude is crazy..." One of the two guys with a chiseled face and thin lips, laughed as you approach them.

"Moon Kevin, right? Second-year student? Photography?" He nodded with a chill attitude.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The other boy with a face with racoon features took the remote and continued the fanmade lyric video from Youtube that they left paused as everybody sat with their snacks in hand.

As they exclaimed "Owww!" at the rap punchlines, you noticed how quick the three clicked. How they sounded like longtime best friends reunited. You shook your head at their silliness as you watched the video in silence. At least you were in peace knowing that Eric would be in fate's good hands.

[5:37 P.M. | Week 3]

Okay... maybe you spoke too soon. You were not in peace. Especially, since everyday they would come over to the flat. Something about the way Eric socializes decreased your social battery when you didn't even know who these kids were. Last week, Eric invited three more strangers to crash 'his' place, they were all your juniors! Not to mention, famous juniors! Not only that, they watched NBA games and F1 races at night, occupying your house like a public facility whenever they can.

You were in the couch, invited to watch along, but you kept your lips shut, since these boys were rowdy and you weren't into basketball. Right now, they were challenging themselves to watch the game with water in their mouth and whoever spit it out first had to pay all their part of the dinner your bank account.

Your phone indicated a message coming in with a vibrate.

Biological 'Buy 1 Get 1' : Y/N. Hyunjae said he wanted to come here, is that okay?

You turned your head to Eric, bewildered.

"You invited five people who I still struggle to name without warning and my knowledge, but... sure I guess!"

You went back to your meal and you swore you saw three Singapore fountains living.

"Oww! You see that, Reggie?"

"I see that!"

"You see that—"

"I see—"

"Beast dunk by the man, Lebron James! Y'all, Miami game night is getting really hot tonight! Take a look at that jump in your ESPN replay—"

"HOLY SHIT, I ALMOST DROWNED!"

"YOU SPAT FIRST!

You just knew the next thing they would do is to fight for no reason, and blame it all on Chanhee (He didn't even participate to the challenge, but Sunwoo would gaslight the guy to pay if Chanhee 'really loves' his friends. That kid really had to thank God, Chanhee really loves them and is an aristocrat's son).

As you reach for more popcorn, the electronic doorbell rang. Eric parkoured from where he sat to the door (a habit you learned he had whenever he's excited).

As he came back, he brought two bags with McDonald's logo.

"Delivery man?" Your brother laughed at squirell guy's question (you hoped his name was Changmin).

"Nope. The snack himself." There was another man behind him.

A soft-gazed guy with a tall fitted figure, broad shoulders and carefully-crafted cheekbones. Oh yeah, this snack needs a warning...

"Hyunjae in the house!"

You really tried your best not to stare too much that night.

[8:14 A.M | Week 4]

"I knew it!" You shut your locker door and saw your brother looking at you with excitement.

"What do you want?" He ignored your rolling eyes.

You walked to the end of the hallway, thinking that Eric was following you. Your feet halt as it detected loneliness by the lack of Eric shadowing behind. Turning around, eyebrows united... you dropped your neck a little, expressing the face of a person left hanging by an Eric, who was looking at you with a smirk and a knowing look.

"So?! What do you know?!"

He took a few steps to you, then he said.

"You know I'm good in chemistry, right?"

"You have 23 exes and you cried when each time you broke up. What do you mean?"

"NOT THAT KIND OF CHEMISTRY—"

"Ohhhh... right... Ms. Choi gave you an AP class for Chemistry back in high school when you blew up a project... Wouldn't that make you eligible to skip 2 years in Chemistry for your Bachelor's?" Eric clapped his hand together.

"Ditto! Now... The dean had let me skip two years as long as I've done two weeks of pre-requisites, so here I am, stuck with your second class of the day, I'll be in Chair 16!" He turned around and ran to the indoor field as he saw Younghoon, a fellow third-year who happened to be your math tutoring student.

"You left me hanging, again?!" You knew that pain in the ass could hear you from afar, but he pretended not to hear by closing his ears as he ran and disappeared.

"Fucking dickhead..."

You opened your phone which had your college schedule as its lock screen wallpaper. Second period will be with Professor Do in Chemistry.

[10:41 A.M]

Ever since the first week of the semester, the lab's door had a paper taped onto it, saying "Warning: harmful acid clean-up! No entry!" and a letter from the chancellor that, while the lab needed to go through some clean-up due to a very harsh acid spill accident, all students who wish to seek Chemistry credits need to go to the Classroom XI, a spare room unused, to attend lecture.

You were in the room approaching the front rows. It was a strategy to record professors lectures better and also to keep yourself visible when your professors take attendance. The memory of raising your hand and saying 'here' and still marked as absent when you chose to sat on Chair 52, two rows behind the student cluster, traumatized you as it almost made you fail the whole course. Thank god you could prove that you listened to the lecture, since most of the lecture weren't on your textbooks.

You saw that Chair 18 was occupied. Chair 16 and 17 were empty.

Letting your Converse shoes took pace, you let your blue backpack hug the shoulders of Chair 17. You then sat in the chair, imaginatively creating prank scenarios to perform human-made karmas on Eric for making you wait to long for what he wanted to say at locker hallways.

Oh, this going to be perfect...

You felt it from your peripheral senses that Eric was approaching the chair on your left. Putting an act of clueless human being, your hand reached to your phone on your left pocket slowly. As the kid beside you dragged the chair behind, he was about to give up his responsibility to bear his own weight to his chair... until the same hand you used to try reaching your phone went to the back of his chair quickly and pulled it.

"Ow!!" You were covering your face not to burst into explosion of loud giggles. Turning your head to the left, looking at the boy on the floor and you—

Oh shit— Eric what did you do?

You remembered Eric's jersey number for his basketball match back in high school, so you look at Chair 22 at the row behind your right. There he was smirking at you and waving. You gave him your panicked face; in response you received a shrug and 'not my problem' (judging from your poor lip-reading skills). You showed off your canine teeth and a middle finger.

"Let me guess..." Hyunjae stood up and fixed his chair, resting his pained butt on it.

"I'm—" Your face were burning hot like a stove, probably red like a tomato by now.

"A friend set you up, because you want to get into my pants. So, you pulled my chair..." It was like the world had a hand on your mouth for a second. You chuckled nervously.

"First of all, not exactly. My bitch brother, Eric, said he'll sit here."

"Eric is your brother?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Yeah, why?"

"I thought you were his girlfriend back in his house..." You faked a vomiting gesture. He laughed a little at you with a small smile.

"Back to the topic. Second... Is the 'pulling your chair' trick famous or something? You didn't seem surprised." He looked at you, mouth agape in bewilderment.

"You're not up to date with the famous students here, are you?" You probably looked silly right now, but your eyebrows were probably like a great horned owl.

"Should I be?" He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head while smiling.

"No, no! It's fine! It's famous, because I do that prank to all of my friends. Let's just say, it became a strategy for girls to get closer to me when I started being friends with kids like Juyeon, Changmin, and... your brother."

"The hell you mean my brother's famous?" Hyunjae raised his chin at Eric's direction.

"Judge for yourself."

As you look back at Chair 22, the two chairs on its left and right were seated by girls who were twirling their hair and touching his bicep. On the other hand, he kept looking at his phone screen while ignoring them.

"Morning, students! I will introduce the molecular spectroscopy this week..." As Professor Do went on talking, his words fade away the moment you heard the big, dictionary-rich words.

"The only thing I like about molecules are the periodic table thing..." The guy next to you murmured.

"I don't even remember half of it..." You turned to him.

"You don't? So if I say you're Beryllium-Uranium-Titanium-Ful, you wouldn't have a clue?" You shook your head.

He smiled a little bit, yet you couldn't read what the intention was for.

[11:32 A.M]

You and Hyunjae tidied your belongings to your own backpacks, as everyone else did. All the urge to scream and knock some sense into your brother was still concealed in your chest. Now that you thought of it, a question tickled the back of your scalp.

"I'm confused though..." He looked at you with pursed lips.

"Yeah?"

"Why weren't you curious about the set up?" He tilted his head.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not curious why my brother set me up with you?" Hyunjae let few chuckles escaped his lips.

"Judging by your answers... I believe, it was more likely he was trying to set me up with you." He started to walk to the door slowly, until his feet froze in the middle of it as he faced you again.

"And you know what? I'm pretty glad, honestly. See you tonight, Y/N." He walked away with another smile.

Your eyes were almost out of its sockets. Every nerve on your body was confused; whether they should be relaxed because the man was away, or they should still be tense by the fact that what he said just now didn't make sense? Honestly, you didn't know anymore.

You kept your eyes at Hyunjae as he kept going to the door, you saw that Eric was leaning on the door waiting for him. They both let their hand greet each other in their masculine manner. Then, Eric winked at you.

[7:18 P.M | Week 7]

There had been no lectures or assignments ever since Week 5 until Week 9. This was because it was yuletide. Eric kept gaining new friends and inviting more to your house. He had to keep a promise that he can only bring ten people to your house, as long he was responsible for having them as guests.

However, you gained a liking to his friends. They really were how you hoped Eric's friends to be; as funny as him, wouldn't make him feel alone like how he wouldn't to other people, and influenced him to try so many other things. So, the promise he made was still kept, but you don't mind if he couldn't keep it once or twice. Like sweeping up the floor at midnight after they went home? You don't mind doing it with him.

...Okay, maybe there was one more. Lee Hyunjae. That man kept inviting you to watch matches along, it was ridiculous! By now, you know which NBA stars belong in which team. He taught you how to play PlayStation games. Sometimes, all of you were there but only the two of were enjoying Resident Evil on the screen.

The second time you interacted with Hyunjae after you pulled his chair was after school when he went to your house together with you. You offered him a ride together with Eric, saving his 4,500 Won to go to your flat every day. From Week 4 to Week 5, the three of you had been doing carpool karaoke at noon.

From then on, little conversations and details mattered to Hyunjae. Once you mentioned that you love homemade popcorn and french fries. After that day, he came with a homemade popcorn and another day with french fries. Every detail about you that he caught were used as a weapon to unintentionally steal your heart.

He was... too nice for someone who was just Eric's friend in your life. Maybe that was why you decided to be involved when you were invited to watch a game together.

Now, it was 25th of December. None of the other ten boys went home to their hometown or families. It was a sad week for them all. They were homesick and so were you and Eric as you both missed your family in LA. Then, Sangyeon, who happened to be the only senior of yours that made it to this friend circle, said a Christmas dinner should sound nice.

So, there you all were, eating Samgyeop and the Saeng Galbi that you grilled. Everyone enjoying their Soju bottles with the rice accompanied by the smoky beef, laughing as you shared how Eric once was asked to be the guy to replace an injured baseball player, then going home and watched a baseball match with a man claiming to be the father of the injured, doing the service as a gratitude for Eric. Two months later, the man was on breaking news for car theft and being chased by the police for six hours straight.

After the dinner, everyone opened up their presents. You were given a few things by these boys, like a hat by Changmin with a note "I don't really know what you like, but Eric said your ears get numb when it snows. Thank you for letting us be a safe space to each other by letting us hang in your house every day! Must not be easy :("

You also got new headphones, because Haknyeon noticed your left Airpods was broken. For people who weren't exactly close, but always welcoming for you (because you welcomed them first), they were very considerate and caring.

You opened your gift from Hyunjae and there were three things there: a Chanel lipstick, a mistletoe, and a coupon for the arcade. You were worried for a second that the lipstick shade won't match you. You turned the case and read what the name of the shade was: '16 - Livermorium'

The thin coupon paper was almost see-through, you could see that there was a writing with a marker behind it.

Wanna bail? □ Yes □ No

You smiled widely at the words, you looked for Hyunjae as everyone was busy talking to each other, expressing their gratitude for the gifts received. You saw Hyunjae leaning near the vestibule, already looking at you. The grin in your face widened and you nodded. He smiled as you both stepped quietly out the room.

"Y/N! Thank you for the new jacket!! You don't know how much I wanted this kind—" Jacob was about to hug you but he noticed you and Hyunjae were taking your shoes to go outside quietly.

You both looked up at Jacob, frozen and you panicked a little. However, Jacob gave a gentle smile instead. He reached to his pocket and tossed Hyunjae his Kawasaki keys.

"Y'all go! I'll cover for you."

[7:49 P.M]

The two of you were in giggles as you scored thirty points in the timed basketball game, while Hyunjae scored more but since his hoop didn't detect the ball passing through, he was still at zero.

"I won!" He rolled his eyes while curving his lips to a crescent, exposing the white on his teeth and the red in his cheeks.

Suddenly, a light bulb was lit inside that wrinkly organ in your skull. You took a few steps to Hyunjae, looking up at him wearing the biggest smile.

"Hey, Hyunjae."

He looked at your eyes, hypnotized by those honey ambers. His own eyes gazing at you from your eyes to the corner of your lips. For one second, he was too drunk in you to even respond.

"Yeah?"

"You opened my gift yet?"

"Yeah... The perfume, right? How much did it cost?" He did not intervene with his eye contact that moved from your eyes to your lips to your eyes and your lips (on and on and on).

"127,900 Won. It's custom made, just like the lipstick you gave me."

He started to feel weak in this eye contact, as if about to give up and just kiss you already. His breath started to hitch and had no energy to do anything beyond whispering.

"Yeah? What did you pick for my custom perfume?"

"I gave the perfumer a sample of my shampoo, my own perfume, my lipstick, and the butter you use for the popcorn you make... because it smells like me." Hyunjae smirked at the sensual, yet the genuine loving manner.

"Is that it?" His right arm decided to hug your waist.

You swore that you almost lost all the shyness and the contemplation to kiss him right there right then. His left thumb reached your bottom lip, dragging to the end point of your chin.

"You want me to remember you with your scent?" It was your turn to blush and get drunk in his love.

You nodded with a shameless naughty smile. Then you let your chin rest on his chest as you looked up to his eyes like a puppy. His pupils began to dilate as he stared at your eyes like a king sitting on his throne looking down at a begging treasonist kissing his feet.

"I just want you overall..." You whispered as he chuckled.

"Mhmm? Yeah? Why don't you show me?"

Hyunjae noticed you took something from the pockets of your pants. It was the Chanel lipstick he gave you and the mistletoe. As you left a gap between you and him enough to put on the makeup in front of him, he took the mistletoe from your hands put it on top.

"Make my dreams come true, will you?"

"Oh what? Kissing you under the mistletoe like the Justin Bieber song you always play?" You both giggled, never letting each other's sights out of each other's sights.

"Not really... Kissing Y/N and nobody else but Y/N had always been the dream since the first time I saw you." You raised your eyebrows at him while smiling widely.

"...And my childhood 13-year-old dream that I had when I was hitting puberty." You couldn't stop smiling and laughing. You snaked your hand, holding the mistletoe with him.

"Gladly..."

You leaned in with the best slow, romantic pace you could ever think of to introduce the relationship for much more kisses to come. It felt like you woke up from the dandellion hills in the Garden of Eden. Felt so right as if nothing in life had ever wronged you. It felt like you flew out of your body, elevating to the outer space where you live among the stars, just floating.

You both gave yourselves some breaths to take in, letting some space between you both.

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why a radioactive element, Livermorium?" He gave away the same giggles he had been having ever since he was with you in that arcade.

"I might memorize the periodic table, but I don't know what the chemical elements mean... I just like the way you can have a code to speak with when you have the periodic table." You tilted your head at him in confusion.

"So what is there to decipher?" He grinned at your cluelessness.

"Livermorium in short is Lv in Group 16 of the periodic table... familiar?" You looked at him wide-eyed as if starstruck at a Nobel Prize genius.

"Chair 16, Chemistry class... Lv short for the word Love?" He nodded proudly, enjoying the attention your eyes gave him.

"Corny, right?"

"Very!"

That night, he confessed that he would really like to be yours and he had never had anyone else (and didn't want to have) other than you in mind. It might look like it was too fast but the chemistry you both had spoke much for yourselves that actually, you were both ready.

From that moment on, the lipstick stained not only on your lips, but on his. He wore it so proud he wouldn't even wipe off the red-pinkish messy smears on his lower cheeks.

[ithebookhoarder]

Relationship A - Z: (Alfie Solomons x F!Reader)

A/N: I randomly ended up catching a friend rewatching an episode of Peaky Blinders recently, and may have fallen back in love with this man again. So, it felt only right to finish this, after it sitting in my pile of unfinished drafts for months XD...

Yet again, for anyone who wants to know, I’m using Dameronlogy’s list here for this prompt. You can find it on their blog, or here. Thanks for all your love and support recently. It means a lot.

Masterlist:

A - actions. what sort of things do they do to show they love their s.o? 

Alfie listens which makes you feel special and valued to no end - something he demonstrates over and over again in many different ways. 

For example, if you say something is your favourite then he is sure to order it and leave it on your desk, whether it’s flowers, perfume, or books by a certain author. 

You even catch him one night, reading your favourite book, and can’t believe it when he starts asking you about it at breakfast the next morning, clearly having absorbed every word with great interest. 

And conversely, if you say you don’t like something… well, then it is all but eliminated from your life. Mushrooms? He’ll never let them touch your plate again. A certain cologne makes your headache? NO one at the factory can wear it. You’re allergic to something? Then Alfie will add it to a never ending list of enemies that need vanquishing and god help it if someone dares try to bring it close to you. 

He also shows it by asking about things you’ve mentioned, remembering all your friends and family names, as well as all the drama too (something you know he thoroughly enjoys catching up on, as yes, whether Mindy’s second husband is cheating on her is more interesting than answering Tommy’s letters.) 

B - beginnings. how did the relationship begin? how has it changed? 

However you met, you can guarantee that it took a while for you both to get to a point where you realised how you felt about one another. Alfie would definitely try to woo you though, even from the start. Tipping his hat when he passes you, sending gifts with handwritten notes, and taking you on lavish dates that clearly took time and effort to plan - he is a gentleman in many ways and refuses to treat you as anything less than a lady, even if you continually insist it isn’t necessary. 

C - comfortable. how comfy are they with each other? peeing with the door open close, or would they rather keep the mystery? 

He’d try to keep a line drawn between his work and your home life, but I feel he’d surrender pretty quickly once you start wearing it down. He has walls that he’s built pretty high and it takes him a while to figure out that it’s ok to let someone in every now and then - especially you.  

Soon enough, he’s sharing everything with you, from the sales figures, to other confidential business information. He keeps nothing back and neither do you. It’s a partnership and that makes you both incredibly happy. 

D - dates. do they consider dates to be important? what kind do they prefer? 

Dates are incredibly important to Alfie. They’re his chance to escape the darkness that follows him in his day to day life and to savour your company. They’re also a chance to strengthen your relationship which is the most important thing in his world. 

As for the types of dates, well, Alfie enjoys mixing things up, alternating between quiet evenings at home with you and nights hitting the town. 

E - engagement. how would they propose? who would even pop the question? 

Alfie would propose to you for sure. In fact, he’s probably been planning on asking you since the moment you first agreed to let him take you to dinner. He can see it all in in his head, and has his mother’s ring on standby for the day he finally musters up the courage to ask.  

F - fundamental. for them, what is the most fundamental part of a relationship? 

Loyalty - which I know sounds ironic given Alfie’s history, but it’s different when it comes to your personal lives. You’re not like his business, so there are no muddy waters for you to have to navigate through when it comes to right and wrong. You’re a team and that’s that, first, last, and always. 

You have each other’s back and love each other for who you are, and that’s why Alfie loves you so much. As long as you trust one another then you can handle anything, whether it be business at the bakery, or even hosting a dinner for the local community in your home. 

G - gratitude. how do they show their appreciation for you?

By spoiling you rotten. This could be via services for you, such as foot rubs, making you fall apart over and over in bed, or baking for you. Or, this could also be via material gifts, such as glittering jewels he’s procured from ‘work’ or fine dresses that you know cost far too much for any one person to own. But that’s Alfie. He loves to gift you fine things and watch as you put them on, looking every bit as regal and expensive as a queen - which is just how Alfie sees you anyway. 

H - home. a random domestic headcanon. 

This man can actually bake, which is fitting given his business front. Still, despite his true business ventures, Alfie can actually bake pretty well and loves to find an excuse to break out his mother’s recipes in the kitchen for you. Most days off start with you waking to the smell of something sweet wafting up the stairs, and the sound of your husband whistling as he works. 

He also has a pair of fluffy slippers that he would keep hidden with his life, if it came to it, rather than let anyone other than you know about them. He really doesn’t look so threatening with them on, which isn’t exactly the look he’s going for.  

I - infinite. do they believe their love is endless, or is there something that could break it? 

Alfie is a realist. Let’s be honest. He’s seen too much of humanity and the world not to be. Just because he expects the worst out of everyone in the world, doesn’t mean he isn’t determined to make your relationship work anyway. If he wants something he goes for it and his happy ever after is one of those things. 

It takes a lot of patience and self-work to not always fly off the handle or let the little things blow up into massive issues. You’d have your bumps along the way, especially in the early days, but you’d both find your feet together. In fact, soon your marriage is the gold standard amongst your friends. 

The secret? It’s learning not to see love as something that is either there or not. It’s something you earn, you build, you tend to. You don’t give up on it, no matter what the world throws at you. 

J - jokes. who's the funny one? 

Alfie is funny and often makes you laugh, but I think you’d get your fair share of laughter out of him too. He’s a goofy one when you finally crack through that shell of his, but he can take banter as well as giving it. In fact, the first time he properly laughed whilst at work he made the entire factory floor grind to a halt in surprise. You’d have heard a pin drop everyone looked so scared and confused.

K - kiss. how do they kiss? favourite type?

Alfie may seem like a massive extrovert, and he can be in the right circumstances. But when it comes to you? I feel like this man is private and protective af. He doesn’t like making a massive spectacle of you or your attentions. So, it’s the little kisses that are his favourite. The ones you subtly press to his cheek or hand whenever you’re near him. When you’re sat in his office or in the car together. When you’re lying side by side in bed and fighting the urge to close your eyes and doze off in his arms. They’re a constant reminder of the love you have for him. 

L - longing. who's the clingy one? how are they with long distance? 

Interestingly, I feel Alfie would be the clingy one, even though he is the one most often away from home, travelling for work. He calls you when he can, though, and makes sure to spend a day with you when he returns. 

He also has men watching you to ‘keep you safe’, even if he knows it drives you mad. Still, you put up with it because it makes him happy, making sure to offer each poor sod a cup of tea for their efforts, and charming them each into compliance. 

M - marriage. do they wanna get married? 

Alfie would love to marry you, let’s be honest. The chance to have a fancy wedding with the local community, and everyone witnessing how lucky he is to call you his? He’d be in his element - and the luckiest bastard alive. To call you Mrs Solomons is something he fantasises about nightly, and the ring box sitting in his desk drawer suggests it won’t be long before he asks you either. He would prefer a traditional Jewish ceremony, but wouldn’t insist if you said otherwise. After all, he just wants you to be happy. 

N - nicknames. what ones do they like? 

Sweetheart, Darlin’, Love… he has a lot of nicknames for you, each one depending on his mood. You can often tell a lot about how he’s feeling by the nickname he chooses to greet you with. Like, if he calls you by your actual name, then he’s feeling serious about something. It can be good or bad but he doesn’t use it lightly… just as he keeps ‘Oytser’ and a few other Yiddish terms for special occasions, usually when you’re alone. 

O - over the top. are they ever ott? or are they more low-key? 

This is Alfie. He’s OTT to the extreme. This wouldn’t change when it comes to you. His personality is as big as his empire and you wouldn’t change it for the world. It keeps things interesting, for a start, and you fell in love with him for him, just as he did you. That doesn’t mean, however, that you don’t sometimes wish things were simpler and quieter - especially once Tommy Shelby comes into your lives. That man only eggs Alfie on and makes him all the worse. 

P - picture. what's their favourite picture of them and their s.o? 

It would be something simple yet intimate to be honest, like a wedding photo, or one of the pair of you taken at a company soiree. He loves it because you’re dressed to the nines, wrapped in each other’s arms, and grinning like a pair of love sick soppy bastards. 

Q - quintessential. what is one they would refuse to compromise in their relationship? what's a deal-breaker for them? 

As I said before. Loyalty is everything to him. Plain and simple. 

R - rage. who is the most likely to start an argument? 

… come on. Alfie. For sure. He probably wouldn’t mean to, unlike when he’s with people to do with the business. Oh no, this man would do his very best not to upset you, given that you’re the one person in all the world that means everything to him. However, he’s still him. He still has a temper and a short fuse that all too often blows up whether it’s about not being able to find his cane, or about the fact he may or may not have pissed off an Italian gangster and needs you to flee to some safehouse for a week. 

He’ll take whatever rage you give back to him and can grovel with the best of them. Expect many bouquets, kisses, and angry sex, followed by make up sex is all I can say. 

S - sickness. who gets sick most often? what are they like when they’re sick? 

Given what we’ve seen in the show, I think Alfie would get ill most often. This can be due to his inability to take a day off or get a decent night’s rest in him, but it can also be due to more serious factors like his war wounds. Still, you’re a great nurse and aren’t afraid of ‘Big bad Solomons’, even if he does his best to get out of taking medicines or staying in bed. 

You can be a spitfire when you need to be and when it comes to caring for your husband, then you turn into the most fearsome Solomons in the West End. Scarier men than him have blanched and run away after being screamed at, by you, for refusing to let your husband out of meetings. Even Tommy himself once actually apologised after a dressing down from you, and sent a bottle of whiskey by way of apology. 

T - tattoo. would they ever get matching tattoos with their s.o, or a tattoo for them? 

Alfie would definitely get one for you. He has a lot anyway, but one dedicated to you would be important to him, so that he carries you with him. He’d also probably get it done over his heart, so it is all the more special as he claims it’s a visual reminder of the mark you’ve left on him. 

You make sure to call him a softy, but kiss him anyway once he tells you. 

U - understanding. how understanding are they? or are they a little difficult? 

All things considered, I think Alfie would actually be rather understanding about most things. It isn’t like his world is black and white, and he knows the world can be a complicated and unfair place. Sure, he’s stubborn but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to at least see things from a different perspective before deciding he was right in the first place. 

If anything, you’d be the one who is less understanding. By that, I mean, you have patience - the patience of a god damn saint, according to most of your friends - but God help you if Alfie makes a promise and then breaks it. You’ll put up with almost anything but if he makes a promise then he knows he has to keep it, else face your wrath later. 

V - vases. do they buy flowers?

Alfie would buy you flowers all the time. True, he’d normally bark at Ollie to order them for him, especially if it’s for an occasion or if he’s in trouble… he knows exactly what kind of flowers are your favourites and isn’t afraid to send you fields worth if it would make you smile. After all, in a city as grey and metropolitan as London, you savour any bud of greenery or coloured petals. It’s why you’ve come home to the kitchen filled with Sunflowers once or twice, after mentioning that you’d had a bad day… only the best for you, Alfie always says - to brighten your day, just as you brighten his life by being in it. 

W - wandering. do they wanna travel? or immediately settle down? 

He may be known as ‘the wandering Jew’ but Alfie would want to settle down, to be honest. You, him, Cyril and whatever kids you two have in a cottage by the sea in Margate… that’s the dream. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy taking you to places though, spoiling you with trips abroad every now and then, like Paris on your honey moon, and Italy for an anniversary. 

X - ex. how many exes do they have? any horror stories? 

As king of Camden he would more than likely have a few, but none he’d deem significant enough to tell you about. He’s always been more of a casual fling, kind of guy, until you came along and tipped his world upside down. The only person you’d ever have to worry about rivalling you for his affection has a tail and answers to the name Cyril… and to be fair, you’re pretty in love with him too.  

But if you had exes? Well, it depends on how it ended as to whether or not he has some of his men have quiet words with them in the middle of the night… 

Y - you. favourite thing about their partner? 

Alfie calls you his salvation, and you think he honestly believes that. You accept him for who he is and aren’t afraid of him, which is a minor miracle in itself. You’re patient and kind and all this things Alfie claims he isn’t, which is why he loves you so much - you are the light in his life and he hopes even just being around you is enough to make him a slither less of a sinner. 

That, and your irritating, unwavering optimism… oh, it annoys him to no end how you always smile and find silver linings wherever you look. You also seem to know just about everyone, often whistling and waving as you make your way through the factory like a god damn Disney princess. Hell, even the Shelbys seem to like you which really gets on his wick… but why wouldn’t they? You’re amazing, so he can understand even if he doesn’t like it. 

Z - zeal. how excitable are they? who's the calm one?

It’s Alfie. Come on - this one is self explanatory, even if I like to think you’d balance each other out. He brings out your extroverted side and you help temper his when he gets a bit much (even if you secretly love how excitable he gets). 

[bendydudeinc]

Dorm nights with Izuku~

PAIRING: AFAB non binary reader(use of cunt, pussy, clit) x College Izuku

CONTENT: SMUT, BARELY ANY PLOT needy Deku fucks you in your dorm

CONTENT WARNING: Fingering (receiving), slight size kink, voice kink, degradation and praise (receiving), impact play(clit slapping), reader is called pup, angel, baby, love, slut, soft dom Izuku

—————————————////////—————————————

You sat at your work desk in your college dorm, eyes heavy and blinking slowly as you stared down at the sheet of paper in front of you. Swinging your mechanical pencil back and forth between your thumb and index finger, you felt you might just pass out into the hand that rested your face. Man, being creative for school sucks ass. You dropped the pencil and peeled your hand off your now red cheek. You wished your boyfriend Izuku was there to cure your boredom, and your developing “issue.” Leaning back into your chair, you grabbed your phone which sat face down next to your paper. 9:30pm, he should be back soon. A smile creeped up your face as your phone began buzzing. Speak of the devil.

“Hi Zuku!” Putting the call on speaker, you get up to stretch, letting out a soft groan after sitting for so long. You swear you heard him curse to himself on the other end of the call, but brushed it off. “I was just thinking about you! Are you coming back to the dorm soon?” You didn’t tell him you were thinking about him fucking you senseless

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m on my way right now my love,” your heart fluttered at the nickname, “what are you doing?” His voice was deeper than usual, he sounded urgent.

“I was just finishing a bit of work, maybe make us some food for when you’re back. Is everything ok? You sound stressed baby. Bad work day?”

Walking over to your tiny dorm kitchen, you stop in your tracks to listen more closely to your boyfriend when you hear…a moan? That can’t be right. You wait a few seconds, hearing the sound of the car run and Izuku’s heavy breathing. It sounds like he’s speeding.

“I-is everything ok? Z-zuku?” His breathing became heavier still, making your mind race with what he could be thinking about.

“Fuckkk b-baby please say my name like that again.”

Your eyes widened, blush erupting up your ears and cheeks. Your legs suddenly felt like jelly, a teasing heat forming at your core as butterflies spread through your body.

“I said, say it again y/n. Please. Say my name I need to h-hear it.” He sounded like a feral, needy animal. His deep tone went straight to your cunt, making you choke on your breath to prevent a moan from escaping. Your awareness of your clenching thighs and clit now overwhelming.

“Fuck Izuku~” Your voice came out as a breathy whine, definitely not as confident as you wanted to sound. He practically growled in response.

“Get on our bed y/n. Right now.” You bit your bottom lip hard, you didn’t need to be asked twice. Flopping down quick on the bed, you put the phone down by your head to hear his voice next to you.

“And stop that. I can hear your pretty voice about to break with every word I say. Let it out. Yeah, yeah angel there you go. Hell yeah, whining like a pup and I haven’t even touched you yet. You sound so cute and fragile. Like it when I order you around like a slut? Haha yeah? Like feeling so small even just on the phone with me? You can barely handle this right now can you? Bet that poor pussy is crying for me to touch it as I speak. So needy, could cum in your fuckin pants from this couldn’t you? No you don’t have permission, don’t you dare touch yourself slut. Not until I get back. Gonna make that little clit feel so good ok love?”

And oh boy, he did.

One minute you two were sharing dirty talk and moaning over the phone, the next he was there and on top of you. His strong, rough hands stripping you of everything on your body that could dare hide his view. He almost ruined you on the spot, you were a complete mess for him. Eyes glossed with tears from sexual frustration, drool daring to slip from your lips, writhing under him as his touch sent pure bliss and fire to your core. You frantically helped take his clothes off too, he obliged happily, whimpering when he finally freed his hard, thick cock. Your hands quickly moved to cling to his shoulders, moaning for him to put it in, but were cut off by his almost painfully tight grip on your chin. You sucked in your breath, looking up at him with pleading eyes as your body trembled, his left hand at the side of your head. The look on his face made you whine, you felt so helpless under him. He looked so powerful, determined, needy, full of love for you and only you.

“Not yet baby. No, gonna torture that beautiful cunt first.” With that, he took his hand off of your chin and landed a loud slap on your clit. You mewled, back arching, nails scratching along his back. The sting making your clit ache on the verge of an orgasm. He moaned at your reaction, seeing that broken look of need on your face. His cock twitched hard, using every ounce of self control in him not to shove it inside you right then. His fingers lingered on your pussy after, rubbing you in slow rough circles.

“Shit. You slut, you’re throbbing you know that?You know how hard this clit is throbbing for me right now? Know how much you’re drippin on me? Beautiful. You look so beautiful like this.”

Your eyes rolled back as he picked up his pace. Another hard slap had you begging with tears streaming down your face to cum. He leaned in close, smirking as he whispered in your ear.

“Shh that’s a good pup. Go on, make a mess of yourself, cum on my fingers.” He ended his sentence with one more slap, and your stomach tightened. You felt your poor nub reach Its aching climax hard. Screaming his name over and over as a warning, you clenched hard around nothing and gushed onto his fingers, back arching up to him as your nails dug lines into his back. He continued rubbing you through all of it, cooing praises at how lovely you looked losing it at his touch. You gasped as you felt him shove two rough fingers inside of you. He watched your face carefully, smiling to himself as you moaned loud and furrowed your eyebrows, no time to be confused as he immediately began to fuck you again. He curled his two fingers upwards hard, hitting your sweet spot with brain spinning precision. He moved his position further down, finger fucking your cum deep inside your clenching pussy as he landed a teasing kiss on your clit. You swore all you could see is white, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. You came again, hard.

“Mmmmmm. Thought I was gonna give you a break? Prepare yourself angel. Gonna love on this pussy all night.”

AHHHHHH THIS IS MY FIRST SMUT SHOT PLEASE ANY TIPS ARE VERY APPRECIATED HOPE YALL LIKE IT OK

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

You always have the best thought out and researched Hobie takes, so I have a punkflower question for you. How does Hobie respond to his boyfriend's father being a cop? I feel too many fics and creators tend to brush it under the rug. How do you think that situation would pan out?

OOOOHHH YAY HOBIE AND COP STUFFFFF SO lets talk about

Miles, Hobie, and Having a Dad In Blue

[I'm gonna be transparent like Miles - there's no open romance in this. This is mainly a short thing about Hobie helping Miles heal from the pressures of his family - just wanted to give a heads up so no one gets to the end and gets disappointed lol]

Honestly, when I think about it -

I think Hobie's first reaction would be more about Miles, than it would be his own feelings.

Like I don't think his first thought would be 'ew' or 'that's horrible' . I think automatically his first thought would be -

'That makes a lot of sense'.

First thing that pops into his head.

Hobie and Miles come from two very different universes, and the ways they handle their shared identity of Spider-man is really different too.

We hear it directly in Hobie's introduction - He's NOT a Role Model.

But earlier in the movie, Officer Davis' biggest gripes with Spider-man - with Miles - is that he is not enough of a role model.

Miles is trying his best. He wants to be a good hero for his dad's sake - knowing one day the cat will be out of the bag.

That's different than Gwen and her father. Her father already knows GhostSpider as a murderer, and there's no reversing that. Gwen knew her father would never accept her - so she hasto keep it a secret - in definitely.

She'll never be a role model to her father - and she's not trying to be anymore. That's Gwen's arc.

An arc Miles hasn't gone on yet. He still wants to be a role model. He wants his dad to idolize and like Spider-man because he doesn't plan to keep it a secret indefinitely.

Unlike Gwen, he wants his father to know who he is.

But he can't - he still feels like he has something to live up to - a code of honor he feels he isn't reaching.

Miles wants to be good enough.

So Hobie sees him going through this struggle all the time, of wanting to be like Peter, wanting to impress his dad, worrying about telling his parents. And not knowing the source -

And then Miles is like "OH By the way, my dad's a cop."

I feel like it would just click for Hobie. He'd be like "That makes a lot of sense, if I'm being honest."

If anything I think he'd feel for Miles first and foremost. That's what Hobie does.

He'd immediately see Miles, and the effect his dad has on him, in both good and bad ways. His dad helps Miles strive to be better - but that also leaves him feeling guilty and alone.

I think he'd go on to be like "That's gotta be tough. Is that the reason why you X, Y, Z?"

And Miles - Poor Miles probably wouldn't even pick up on this until that very moment. Having Hobie say to this him would probably leave him a little shook.

But it'd be SO relieving.

Gwen and Miles don't talk about their family. Gwen isn't a talky person. Miles doesn't really have anyone to talk to about his family dynamic or his situation at home.

Like even Miles!42 - His uncle Aaron KNOWS he's Prowler. Miles doesn't have that support.

And then Hobie would give it to him, and be like 'I understand', 'That must suck', 'You don't have to be a role model, you just have to be yourself.'

Hobie offers that support all without Miles asking - (Miles is finna cry)

All because Miles having a cop as a dad immediately explains a lot of the struggles he's going through. And Hobie can see that. It makes him frustrated and he'd want to at least be someone Miles can talk to.

Like police corruption and oppression aside, living in the shadow of someone with a black and white view of right and wrong, or good and bad, sucks.

Growing up under someone who abides by order and swears by it SUCKS, because the world in unorderly. The universe is.

Hobie knows this. Him meeting Officer Davis however is a whole thing -

Honestly speaking, I'd think he'd look at Miles dad with pity. Like 'Damn you're a good father and a good husband - but you're a cop'.

He'd probably turn up to the cookout, make himself and his views known (not changing the laces) and if Miles' dad really finds a problem with them he can ask.

Hobie will happily tell him "I'm not from here. The place I'm from is a lot less nice and a lot more corrupt than this one. What I did ain't fun - but it was in the name of liberty. I guess you know all about 'defending liberty', don't you? You wear a blue uniform to remind you. I wear blue laces."

Because it's the truth. Hobie will say that shit without blinking. Standing there like

'Now is there a problem, officer?' Just because he wears blue laces DOESN'T mean he lacks a moral code.

Hobie has a moral code. A VERY strong one - and simply in the way he carries himself, you can tell that he's committed to that code.

Maybe even more than Officer Davis. They have two different moral codes, but I'm sure Miles dad can identify on sight - and respect - 'We both are the type to stand by what we think is right'

Because by Hobie not changing himself, he's showing that he won't bend his morals for Miles' family. But there's differences in the way they operate and that's okay.

But ALL IN ALL -

I think Hobie learning about Miles' Dad would

Bring them closer together. For the first time Miles has words and reason behind the pressure he feels. Why he looks up to his dad and is annoyed with him at the same time. Hobie would catch the connection right away, and open the discussion. And Miles is open to talking, we see it in their scene before Miguel's office. I think having that outlet would help Miles SO much. I feel like he'd become more confident over night. Hobie telling him there's no rules or laws or academy when it comes to being Spider-man. There are certain circumstances where the police just can't help. That's what Spider-man is for. To go above and beyond the black and white authority society has created. It'd be so liberating for Miles.

Garner some respect between Officer Davis and Hobie. It kinda sounds backwards. But lets be honest, if they're at the dinner table and Officer Davis asks about one of Hobie's political patches - he's gonna tell him what he thinks straight out. Hobie's wearing a 'Dearm the Police' patch and Miles' dad asks about it - Hobie's gonna be like 'Yeah, they don't need those weapons. The lot of them are already weapons themselves.' And of course Officer Davis is gonna want a conversation about it, and Hobie loves hearing himself talk. But it never gets heated. It's them going back and forth dropping these huge points and citing examples and bringing up theoretical scenarios. It's just - THEY KEEP TALKING. Rio is like 'Hun, please your food is getting cold.' And Jeff is like 'One second - *Turns to Hobie* In 1983 there was a court case about a cop- *continues his long as counterpoint*' What even more interesting - HOBIE HAS A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF HISTORY THAN JEFF. Yeah, all those cases in the 70's that Jeff was a baby for. Yeah, Hobie was there and a teenager - the equivalent of cases still match up. So Jeff is debating at the dinner table with a dude who is technically older than him - but he doesn't know that so Hobie keeps catching him off guard with that SMUG ASS GRIN Miles is sighing under his breath like 'Hobie COME ON let him win PLEASE' So for Miles, and ONLY MILES, Hobie lets it slide. Until Jeff turns on the TV. And the first thing they see on the screen is s report about politics and NOW THEY'RE BACK AT IT AGAIN FUCK Hobie pointing at the screen like 'Case & Point, m8. Thats exactly what I mean!' Fuck outta here, Hobie will debate till the cows come home.

It'd help Miles and his dad a lot Officer Davis would probably be left with a HUGE amount of respect for Hobie. Because yeah he looks like a delinquent - to someone obvious trained by the system. But Hobie knows his shit. He knows how to maneuvour in conversation, how to pick peoples brains, and understand their reasoning. He GENUINELY wants to have a conversation. Because he genuinely believes he can back himself up in a calm and logic way. So why not talk about it? After Hobie leaves there would always be a silence - and that's because yeah they went back and fourth for 40 minutes, but Hobie ALWAYS leaves you with something to think about. Or consider. Or re-evaluate. Honestly Miles has NO idea what his dad thinks. Usually his dad would be ranting still - but he looks more thoughtful. Just replaying the discussion he had with Hobie. Miles might ask his dad what he thinks - but his dad might say something vague like Officer Stacy did - call him a 'piece of work' It isn't until later when Miles' dad knocks on his door that he realizes how much Hobie has an impact. Even if his dad didn't know about his secret identity - I think he would see how much his police training effects his home and Miles in specific. How much pressure that can put on someone. Officer Davis would replay the story Hobie told him of the unnamed girl whose father shot at her. And he'd consider how anyone could choose their badge over their kid. Maybe he has a discussion with Miles, apologizes for the pressure he puts on him, telling Miles he's proud of him.

And Miles would know it's all because of Hobie. Because Hobie cares about him and Hobie knows how to approach people, all type of people.

Officer Davis would KNOW how Hobie feels about cops. And he's know why. He'd at the very least understand Hobie, or respect him. Hobie would make him realize - 'Oh hey, you don't have to be a role model to be a good person'.

Because Hobie Brown is NOT a role model. He's something better.

That's just how I see it. I think Hobie is a great mediator tbh. It's his strongest talent. It's the reason why Miles trusts him to much to begin with.

ANNNDDD As per usual if you made it this far - THANK YOU!!!! The gift shop is to the left. As courtesy here is a photo of Hobie with a bonus photo of Miles that I think is really really funny.

I don't know why that photo of Miles is SOOO funny to me- I think its the fact his hands are in fists his expression is so unreadable IT LOOKS LIKE HES ABOUT TO SOCK ME IN THE MOUTH Im in legit tears laughing at that

Bye.

[punkascas]

okay, so i don't want to, like, Start Something or whatever so we're doing a barely-tagged, separate post. i also realise this is mostly pointless because others have already said what i'm going to say, and did it better, with far more grace, and sound less like an asshole than i do.

but jesus louise helen christ, the weird fucked up ideas people have around abuse and personal responsibility and the effect of trauma. like as an abuse and csa survivor, it genuinely alarms me to read posts that use arguments i remember my dad making. like, i'm assuming most of this rhetoric comes from gen z — maybe that's inaccurate; maybe that's unfair. but right now i'm very much Having A Moment Here that the kids aren't alright.

no 22-year-old should be repeating the same awful, manipulative, logically and morally bankrupt justifications for violence and torture my dad says. like literally what's in the first two episodes of ofmd s2 is torture.

i love ed; he's an amazing character. taika is hella wowza top marks acting him. but like.

like.

torture, my dude. physical and psychological. trauma. harassment. that we see the lasting effects of through s2.

just. i. what??

so here we go, okay. have too many, zealously highlighted screenshots so i can dig into details.

cut to save your dashes. content warning for discussions of abuse and trauma (if that wasn't obvious), as well as spoilers for ofmd s2.

re: ed knew what he was doing was wrong and felt guilty about it at the time:

we have no on-screen, textual examples of this. not in the dialogue; not in the acting; not in the blocking; not in the cinematography or music. nothing.

knowing the crew are overworked and kind of traumatised by all the violence, ed bribes them with cake. because, as we know, cake like tea fixes everything. only ed wasn't even with them to share in the eating of the cake. he made izzy responsible for that. he doesn't give the crew a break; he doesn't choose less ethically-fraught prizes to hunt. there is not one scene of ed talking directly to the crew — until he points a gun at each of them.

we see ed crying (and drinking, and rhino horn-ing [way to help further extinction, man]) but it's always paired with shots or flashbacks that reference stede. ed is still all up in his feelings about stede, and ed confirms this when he tells frenchie the myth about albatrosses never needing to return to land. ed cannot go back, does not want to go back, because he was rejected. (like, stede is literally landed gentry, come on!) all he wants to do instead is stay at sea committing to this unhinged version of unstable, sadistic piracy.

but okay, okay. say we ignore all of that. let's say ed does feel sorry and guilty and ashamed of his actions. he knows what he's doing is wrong and unfair and cruel. that it's harming others. that it's particularly harming the dude that ed has, for better or worse, basically spent his life with (izzy; i mean izzy). ed… still continues to do the things! how far off are we at this point from the definition of malicious? you know action x hurts person b and then you do it anyway. is that honestly a better, happier, more ethically defensible reading of the character?

re: the crew didn't mutiny because they love ed despite his violent, sadistic actions.

mutinies were a thing, yes. but both historically and in the world rules established by the show, mutiny is disincentivised through threats, distraction via extra work, and corporeal punishment. we see both ed and izzy use all three of these to try to prevent the crew from disobeying orders. they didn't wait until the storm and izzy shooting ed to mutiny because they understood or sympathised with ed; they took the chance to kill him then because that was the first real opportunity they'd had. the reward finally out-weighed the risk given that ed was going to kill them all that night anyway.

again, we have no scenes, no dialogue, no visual or audio cues to tell us that the crew understands or loves ed — excluding izzy, obviously. fang could also be on that list, if you take into account his personality and his behaviour both in s1 and later in s2 in the fishing boat scene. but in the first two episodes, we only see the crew show trauma responses around ed. they talk about him but almost never to him. and when they do have a direct conversation with ed, it is either confrontation or head down, submissive, "of course, blackbeard; anything you say" placating. i'm so baffled where the show points to any sign of love from the crew towards ed before his "death".

re: ed can't be held responsible because he was suicidal.

uhm. no. hard no. a harder no than stede's brazilian cherry wood mast. fucked up people do fucked up things but part of being an adult is owning your fucked-upped-ness and not fucking up others while you work on unfucking yourself. children, children are not fully responsible for the impact of their actions on others when they're deep in their feelings, especially if they're feeling their feelings as a trauma response. this is because literally their brain cannot do that kind of control. it doesn't have that software pack installed yet. ed does have all the adult updates installed, even if he isn't running them at that moment. he has no right to take out his feelings on other people: to maim them, to psychologically torture them, to abuse them, to work them to exhaustion. to kill them. he does not get a free pass to do suicide by abused employees. (like suicide by cop but more indirect and passive and harmful.) talk about passive aggressive.

secondly, ed is not just passively suicidal and happy to find new risks that might end his life. he is very purposefully taking izzy with him (see: literally removing the bits of izzy that would help let him walk away from ed; the fact that ed becomes actively suicidal only once he thinks izzy is dead; the whole keeping izzy's corpse in front of his and stede's beach shack i mean inn — the codependence, she runs deep). ed is also putting the crew through the same risks, the same isolation, the same danger. both stede and izzy agreed that ed had gone full scorched earth policy. you don't get forgiven for the murder part of a murder-suicide pact just because of the suicide part. not to mention that no one (once again, you could potentially argue izzy as an exception) was good on a murder-suicide pact with blackbeard.

and then to say the crew felt guilty? i assume i'm misreading that. the crew. felt guilty. for ed's actions. that is, if not victim blaming and if not darvo, a very close inbred cousin of them. like hapsburg jaw inbred close.

re: ed healing and his view of himself as a monster.

to heal means, in part, to accept responsibility for the harm you've caused, whether it was intentional or not. it means making amends. it means building or rebuilding relationships where possible. it means putting the other person or persons' feelings and boundaries and need for safety above your desire for absolution or forgiveness. it means working through your own guilt and shame and anger (or whatever drove you to act the way you did) in a separate space, not with the people you hurt, but someone who can be a step removed, more impersonal and objective to help you reflect and face hard truths as needed. i say this as both someone involved in activism and community reparations and as an abuse survivor who has done nearly 30 years of therapy learning this in order to not hurt people. it's not ed's fault he's fucked up just like it isn't my fault i am. but it is on me, like it is on anyone, to make sure i limited as much as possible the harm i can cause to others because i learned some awful but very effective tricks at a young age to survive.

ed does not really do any of the above. he doesn't say "sorry". he speaks in generalised language. he complains about the cat bell (which he seems to wear only for one day, given the implied timeline with lucius and pete's engagement). i have a model ship on a stand that says "this is a safe space ship" as a joke because i work for the government and have written press releases that sound just like ed's "apology". where you take no responsibility and encourage "the culture" to move on.

so, really, my question becomes: ed sees himself as a monster. in s1, we had enough balance between ed's current actions and his referenced past actions to see this belief as likely untrue. in s2 though — i mean, is it? is that an unfair or inaccurate belief? i can understand how carrying that belief can get in the way of ed's growth and eventual healing but like. from an outside perspective of ed-the-fictional-character. he's not a "good" person. he's capable of and has done and continued to do horrible, cruel things. ethically, can you argue with that statement about him?

re: ed trying to destroy relationships because of his self-worth issues and instead the consequences of his actions proving that he's loved.

this is the point that made me go: right, no, i need to respond. i need to say my piece about this. izzy and the crew suffering ed's violent tyranny and then sticking around on the revenge anyway afterwards is not a sign of love. it is not showing love to bear pain for someone. it not showing love to let someone mistreat you, threaten you, hurt you, maim you. their actions are selfish and done to give them feelings of power and control over you. lying back and thinking of england to get through it is not love. it is absolutely a survival technique. but it is not love when you do it at the expense of yourself or others.

i also disagree that ed was trying to push people away or break his relationships with others. we know from s1 that ed is fairly blasé about whether crew members die. again, we don't see any friendly or intimate exchanges between ed and any of the crew to imply any kind of relationship there beyond "tools who accomplish ed's goals". the one exception, as always, is izzy. and as previously stated, ed seems bound and determined, in a very conscious way, to bring izzy into death with him. ed does everything in his power to make izzy want to kill ed, or at least agree that it's best if ed dies, and to want to kill himself so ed doesn't have to die alone. that isn't ed breaking that relationship; it's making it permanent in a really fucked up shakespearian way. the only relationship we see ed waffle between wanting to keep and wanting to push away is stede. after his corporate "apology" and the fishing trip with fang, all of ed's dialogue is with stede and a little bit with zheng until izzy's death scene. the crew loving ed just isn't a thing, at least not one we're shown. not from either side. ed's relationships are with stede and kind of, sort of with izzy (because he does manage to, if not fully break, do some major damage to that).

love did not save ed. ed wanting to live, because stede came back, because he didn't want to jump off hornigold's cliff in the first place, saved ed. izzy saved everyone else.

so yeah: that's it; that's the post. the rhetoric that abuse is love or that abuse can be "cured" with love or that trauma isn't lasting and serious and has impacts on people's daily lives is just. wild. wild.

and terrifying.

my dad was born in the 40s. why is anyone born in the 80s or later still defending this mindset? it honestly, truly freaks me out.

guess it's good i have a fucking therapy appointment on monday.

[miffy-junot]

I really wanted to be kind, I really try to stay away from discourse, but my friend sent me a post containing opinions so rancid that I had to say something. I'm turning off reblogs and I will not name the user who made the post because I do not want any discourse, please be respectful of this.

Time to respond to the words of "Tumblr user X":

Firstly - I know not everybody here is Christian but to make a post being rude to dead people on All Soul's Day is immensely disrespectful, to say the least. Don't you have any graves to put flowers on, any people to remember?

1:

The majority of people interested in the Napoleonic Wars think Junot is a blundering buffoon. You really have to dig deep to find nuanced sources on him beyond the usual "mad general" stuff. There is a niche community of Gen Z Tumblr bloggers who like Junot, by no means the majority of the Napoleonic community - and since Tumblr is very easy to curate, it's on you if you are stuck in this niche bubble.

Let me tell you, Junot does not have a good reputation at all. You can let the topic go, you are fighting against an enemy that you believe numbers in the hundreds when in fact it is a small group of mentally ill teenagers (many of whom are lgbtq+, which is something interesting in itself).

2.

You are an adult, but how did you graduate high school with no skills of reading comprehension? Nobody has ever said that Junot's actions with Laure were "normal and okay". Once again, you are fighting an imaginary enemy.

Napoblr is essentially a war criminal fandom. That does not make it any more or less valid than other history communities, but it means that we have to take a slightly different approach to moralising historical figures. Almost every single person involved in the Napoleonic Wars would be a bad person if you took their actions out of the historical context. Most people relevant to the Napoleonic Wars were sexist, racist, imperialist pieces of shit who turned a blind eye to war crimes.

Because that makes up such a large percentage of these people, being overly judicious about their morality will leave you with the following group of "unproblematic people": a large gathering of peasants and children, none of whom we know the names of.

"Evil" is a very strong word to use, one which denies nuance, but let me speak in your language: all Napoleonic figures were somewhat "evil", if you are unwilling to deal with "evil" people then study art history, or any other subject that doesn't deal so much with moral complexity.

3.

In my opinion war crimes committed as part of your job are still war crimes????????? "Indirectly" or not, there is little difference between ordering an execution and murdering someone with your own bare hands, in both situation you take away a life from the world and there is blood on your hands. Some might even argue that having a callous approach to life and death is even worse!

And like I have said above: endless moralising is counter-productive. There are better ways to use your time, such as researching things that actually fulfil you.

4.

(just a tiny nitpick but please do not use that certain misogynistic term)

"Could have" and "should have" are words that cannot be used in the study of history. Speculation over endless possibilities of alternative realities is meaningless.

I thought we as a society had moved beyond calling addicts "evil", but apparently not! (and again, "evil" is a very charged term that leaves no room for nuance)

For the record, I support abstinence of all the things you mention. Irl I have a bit of a reputation for being a puritan. But even I will not blame somebody's entire morality on that, and call a man "evil" for being an addict?! Where is your sympathy?!

Self-destructive behaviour is a major symptom of both head injuries and personality disorders, but I doubt "Tumblr user X" has the thinking skills required to understand that properly.

And either way, even if it was all "his responsibility", so what? That's his personal life, why do you care? If you don't like it, go away.

5.

Again, I genuinely thought people knew how to be sympathetic towards addicts but apparently not.

The emphasis on "self-restraint" is insane, if you had any restraint you wouldn't be bitching on Tumblr. You are sounding more like a 17th century Puritan than me, the person who gets accused irl of acting like one.

People on Tumblr find Junot relatable. That is why he is cute, because he is relatable. Additionally, it is big part of Gen Z humour to call bad men "babygirl" and to combine cutesy aesthetics with dark stuff, hence the whole coquette/girlblogger aesthetic.

Like I said at the beginning of this post - most people do not like Junot. The people who do are mostly mentally ill young people who naturally gravitate towards this "crazy but make it cute" aesthetic tendency, and the "I can make him worse" sort of mentality.

"Violent tendencies" is a lot to extrapolate from a single incident, but that seems to be something you're fond of doing.

6.

You deliberately phrase this to imply sexual harassment. Here is what happened: he flirted with her and invited her to dinner, she had heard the rumours of his mad behaviour and ghosted him, he got very upset. Nothing physical ever happened.

Additionally, none of his mistresses ever mentioned any violent behaviour by him. In fact, in one anecdote related by Laure herself, Junot's Abyssinian mistress Xraxarane encouraged him to shoot an orange off the top of her head because she was so confident in his abilities with a pistol, and even though he knew he could do it, Junot didn't even try because he was too afraid of hurting her.

7.

Do your research before making snarky comments, I am begging you.

While it is true that men wrote more passionately to each other in those days, "I who love you with the affection of a savage for the sun, I who am entirely yours" is not something you would say in passing. I'm not going to argue that Junot and Napoleon did anything romantic together, but it's undeniable that Junot's feelings towards Napoleon surpass those of a completely platonic friendship.

There are many sources that attest to Junot's fanatical devotion being unusual, not just Laure. And it was not a single remark in Laure's memoirs, but many anecdotes. Junot had many close male friendships, but they all took on a very different character to his friendship with Napoleon - his letters to other friends have a casual, jovial tone; the intense and poetic language used in his letters to Napoleon instead mirror his letters to women.

Is it really so unfeasible to you that, out of the thousands of men in the Napoleonic army, one of them might have developed feelings for Napoleon beyond those of conventional masculine friendships? Statistically, it is impossible that every Napoleonic man was straight.

8.

Okay, I am going to be directly bitchy here.

Tumblr user X, YOU DIDN"T EVEN BOTHER TO READ THE JOURNAL INTIME BEFORE PUBLISHING A POST ABOUT THE INCIDENT.

When, in a discord server, I shared a small piece of the journal intime I had translated that was referring to Junot's affair with Caroline, YOU DOUBTED IT"S CREDIBILITY.

You claim to trust what women have to say, BUT YOU DON"T BELEIVE HORTENSE DE BEAUHARNAIS' CLAIMS THAT HER HUSBAND ABUSED HER. BE CONSISTENT.

And finally: THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO MENTION OF JUNOT TRYING TO RAPE LAURE AS YOU CLAIMED. NOWHERE IN HER ACCOUNT OF EVENTS DOES SHE ALLEGE RAPE. STOP MAKING THINGS UP, IT IS DISRESPECTFUL TO REAL RAPE VICTIMS.

You pretend to be diligent with your sources, but you are not, you only read things that support your pre-conceived opinion, you make posts based on false evidence. Shut the fuck up about topics you know nothing about.

9.

Gurl we are not bureaucrats, we do not care about military efficiency.

"glorified cavalry skirmish" - is a group of 500 men defeating a force of 3000 men not glorious to you? Those are odds of five to one.

If you don't care about military history, don't talk about military history and get out of the military history fandom.

10.

(fyi it's spelt crucify)

You are fighting imaginary enemies. Bessieres is adored, he is babygirled. Junot is loathed.

Nobody ever said Junot trying to kill Laure was cute. (I would also provide evidence that Junot never intended to kill her, but then I'll get accused of defending domestic violence)

Junot being babygirlified is not a recent thing. What about:

Rapp, who didn't think Junot was a great soldier but still defended him

Foy, who hated Junot but still wrote positive comments about him in his memoirs

Arthur Wellesley, who respected Junot as an enemy

James Forbes (and many others), who hated Napoleon but praised Junot for being kind to Englishmen in Paris

Antoine-Romain Hamelin, who didn't like most people he met but adored Junot for defending and rescuing him

André Delagrave, who wrote very sympathetically about Junot after serving him in the peninsular wars

Laure's letters

Junot's letters to Laure

Junot's letters to his daughters

+many, many more sources but those were the only ones I remembered off the top of my head.

And please don't disrespect Laure's own wishes and opinions. What about the highly affectionate language used to refer to Junot in her letters about her grief over his death? What about her letter to Berthier complaining about Junot being defamed?

Please be respectful here, I don't want any discourse. I shouldn't have to say this but please do not share this with "Tumblr user X", I don't want to have anything to do with that person ever again.

a little side tangent on the infamous incident between Junot and Laure:

When Junot went to break off his affair with Caroline Murat, he took two duelling pistols and khanjar (a Middle Eastern style of dagger) with him in case he was confronted by Murat and things got messy. This is very important - Junot had lethal weapons easily accessible to him and was willing to use them to kill his rival. So if he genuinely had every intention of murdering Laure, why didn't he shoot her? Why didn't he stab her with the fatal khanjar rather than a pair of scissors? Speculation on this point is useless, but it's vital to know that he could have easily killed her, but he didn't. I'm not defending his actions in any way, Junot certainly did something awful, but he did not intentionally plot to murder her.

[wosowrites]

You’ll be Okay (Chelsea WFC x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: so so sad about the team moms leaving :((

prompt: in which you have to cope with the news of magda and pernille leaving chelsea

You had had your first suspicion that maybe Magda and Pernille would be leaving at the end of the season when you lost out on the Conti Cup to Arsenal. You just imagined that they were upset when you hugged them tight and told them that you would lift the trophy next year. Magda and P shared a quick, sad look before smiling at you. "Of course," they had said.

They announced it too the team two months before it was announced to the public, and you had never felt more naive.

Actually, the couple had announced their departure with Magda’s help to the team while you were in a private session with the therapist. You had recently gone through quite the scary event as angry Manchester United fans spent the whole time you walked out of the stadium yelling horrible things at you. You had never seen the girls so angry. Guro yelled at a few people, sweet, calm Jessie had to be held back by Sam to go give a piece of her mind to a woman in a Leah Galton jersey. You had insisted you didn’t need therapy and that you were fine, but it ended up being beneficial.

This had all been planned out. They would tell everyone as you were with the therapist, and then they would tell you separately after training.

Magda and Pernille walked up to the front of the room, and although everyone knew what was coming, most people still cried. Almost no one on the team had known a Chelsea without Magda and the idea of her not being around felt horrible.

The girls delivered their speech, crying themselves and then they allowed questions. "What club are you guys going too?" Sam asked. "We can’t say yet, sorry," Magda said, earning a frustrated groan from the australian. "If you guys go to Arsenal…" Jessie started saying. "Gross! No! Of course not," Pernille said. "Wait- where’s y/n?" Niahm asked, looking around the room.

The blondes at the front of the room shared a quick look. "Uhm, were- were telling her separately after practice," Magda said, holding P’s hand. "Which- actually, is that a good idea? It’s the right decision right?" Pernille asked.

The blues all nodded. "Yeah, I mean I’ve known her since we were fifteen and she’s never had a… a parent figure like you guys in her life before. She’s gonna be happy for you guys but… she’s gonna take it really hard," Jessie said, pursing her lips together.

Your therapy ended two minutes before the start of training so you headed to the meeting room.

The second you opened the door, something felt wrong. Every head turned to you and Magda and P seemed to have just been sat down. You scanned the room, smiling tentatively. "What are all of you weirdos looking at?" you asked them, letting the door close behind you and taking a seat at a table composed of Magda, P, Niahm, Z and Jessie. "Nothing! You just caught us by surprise," Magda said quickly. "Okay weirdos" you joked.

Practice flew by quickly as it almost always did. Thankfully, as you had a game tomorrow, Emma didn't, make you do fitness and you were all instructed to take it easy. You did notice that Emma pulled Magda and Pernille to the side towards the end of practice, and although you did wonder what that was all about, you didn't ask.

"Emma told us that she doesn't want us to tell y/n about the move until after tomorrow's game. I feel dirty, it feels gross not to tell her when everyone else knows," Magda told Millie and Zecira after her talk with Emma as you watched from afar.

That night, you went home knowing something was wrong. But you ordered Chinese food and watched a movie with Jessie, who was your roomate, before going to bed.

There was no other way to describe your performance against Tottenham. You had played spectacularly, scoring a hat trick and assisting Guro. You were on top of the world, and then your world came crashing down.

You all headed towards the changing room, but before you could get into the area, you felt your wrist being grabbed. You turned around quickly to see Pernille holding your hand. "What is it?" you asked, moving to the side to let your teammates in. You could see on the faces of the girls piling into the changing room that they knew something you didn't.

The women in front of you shared a look. "Stop with the looks. Everyone knows something I don't so please just tell me," you said firmly.

"Y/n... I've been with Chelsea for six years... and, Pernille has been here for three and we've- we have decided that it's time for us to... to concur another part of the world. To leave Chelsea," Magda said.

They searched for a reaction in your eyes for a solid twenty seconds. Your eyes were watery but you were hoping your fake smile cancelled out the tears. But they saw through you. "That's great! When are you announcing it to the public?" you asked, your voice clearly shaking. "Honey..." Pernille tried to say but you cut her off immediately. "No. No please don't call me that. I'm happy for you, you're going to do well but I- there are dozens of photographers outside that are going to take pictures of me and there's no way I'm walking out of there with puffy red eyes so please just let me act as though I don't care," you said, letting so much and so little out at the same time.

It was already too late though, your face was covered in tears and your nose was running. Magda didn't wait five seconds before pulling you and her girlfriend into her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I'm being so selfish. This is good for you guys," you sobbed into Magda's hair. "We don't think you're selfish, we understand. We know," Pernille answered.

Walking back into the changing room was hard, but thankfully most people were in the shower so all you had to do was grab your Chelsea sweatsuit and rush into the shower. After showering, you slipped on your blue Chelsea sweatpants and then the matching blue hoodie. It was only once you had put it on that you noticed the number 16 was embroidered on the right side. Magda had switched it out. You smiled and combed your hair before heading back to the main room to put on your jewelry and your shoes. Magda and Pernille were waiting outside for you, and you all walked out together.

You woke up the morning of May 18 knowing that today was the day that the world got the confirmation that Magda Ericsson and Pernille Harder were moving on from their life as blues. You were still on a high from the FA cup, and as long as you beat Arsenal on the 21st, the league title would probably be once again, the blues. But today you felt nothing but devastation, as you could no longer be in denial of your two team mothers leaving. You had prepared a goodbye post for them, knowing that on their actual last game for Chelsea, you would never be able to summon up enough energy to post a goodbye.

You had chosen three pictures, one of you asleep on Magda's shoulder in the bus when you had only been playing for Chelsea for about two months, the other of Pernille caring you over her shoulder in the streets of Portland during pre season, you were both laughing loudly. And the last one was a collage of three pictures of you, Magda and Pernille. The three pictures were of your three FA cups, and in every picture you were between the both of them, holding the trophy, and they were kissing your cheek. You were a family, and that really showed in those pictures.

The caption was what you put most thought into however. It read:

I genuinely can't think of a day in the past two years and a little more where I didn't send a text to our group chat, ranting about how good or bad the meal I had was, how the lady in the apartment in front of mine always gave me the stink eye, or just texting you to tell you that Jessie was still on my back about leaving my towels on the floor. I'll always be able to text you, but now I can't take the ten minute walk to your apartment anymore. Now I have to give you guys the key you gave me back. Two FA cups won with you guys, and certainly, two league titles ;) I love you both, I love you for being my soulmates, and I love you for defending me on the field, smack talking the players who injure me, and always being my honorary mothers. Go destroy another league now, and don't forget that Friday's at 8:00, London time, are reserved for your daughters, me, Niahm, and Jessie.

You then got out of bed, waiting for the moment where Chelsea FCW would post on their instagram about the departure of their skipper before posting your message. You had a rare off day today, a day in which you had planned to have brunch with Jessie, Pernille, Niahm, Magda, Sam and Kristie, who was visiting her girlfriend.

You headed towards Jessie's bedroom and then knocked on the door twice. "Come in," you heard her voice say, but it sounded heavy and tired. "You okay, Jess?" you asked gently, sitting down next to her and looking at her. Her cheeks were slightly wet with tears and her eyes were red. "I don't want them to leave. I hadn't let myself think about the fact that they were leaving until today and now all the emotions I should have let myself feel over the past two months are all coming up now," she said.

You looked at her sadly, pulling her in into a hug. "You can cry, Jess, everyone is going to. We play Arsenal at Kingsmeadow in three days and god knows I'm going to cry. I'll try not too, but I will. Let's just focus on the time we have with them, right?" you told her. You felt her nod against your shoulder before pulling away from her. You gently wiped her tears and smiled at her, looking into her eyes, before leaving the room to let her get changed.

May 23, Kingsmeadow, the last home game of Hardesson. You felt like death against a team you needed to all feel alive against. So, that morning, you dragged Jessie out of bed, she made breakfast while you gathered up your pre match kits and made coffee. After breakfast, you were out of the house. "I feel like Magda's gonna score today," you told your best friend as you turned into Kingsmeadow. "Hmm, I feel like you're going to score today," she said to you. "Yeah but I always score," you jokingly said, trying to lighten the mood.

Walking into the changing rooms, Magda seemed a bit down but Pernille was all smiles, they contrasted each other well. There were pretty obviously two groups, the ones who were sad but wouldn't cry over the departure of the team mothers, and the ones who seemed more scared of a team that didn't have Magda as captain.

But the second the starting eleven walked onto the field, you were all professionals, ready to fight tooth and nail for the title. You wanted to lift one more trophy with your Danish and Swedish mothers.

The first goal came in the 22 minute by your sliding header. A free kick was taken by Niahm but it went a bit far into the box. But you read the play well, Manu didn't react quick enough and so you threw yourself head first to connect with the ball for it to land in the far netting. You landed on your stomach but quickly got up and celebrated with the fans and your team. Jessie had been right.

And then, it was your turn to be right. Magda scored. You had never felt more joy over a goal someone else had scored, your heart lit up, your smile had never been bigger and you hugged Magda and kissed her forehead over and over.

2-0 win. That was a very good score, and you were ecstatic about it. You did feel a little sorry for Katie McCabe's missed penalty, but that was football.

And then came the waterworks. As the team walked around the stadium, clapping for the fans, you felt the need to step aside at the bench for a second. Magda and Pernille were leaving. You had never known a Chelsea without them, and now they were just going to be gone one random Monday. So, you went up to James, the team medic.

"James-" you started saying. "-I, uh, I need a favour from you. I need you to pretend that you're checking me for a- I don't know, a head injury? Yeah cause of the collision I got in with Catley. I feel like I'm seconds away from bursting out in tears and I want this moment to be about Magda and Pernille and not me feeling sorry for myself," you said to him.

James looked like he had not signed up for this, but eventually he smiled at you gently and told you to position yourself so your back faced the crowd. He started doing what he would usually do to check for a head injury as your bottom lip shook and tears streamed down your face. "You're aloud to be upset, y/n. It's not selfish, it's human. I say go out there after Magda and Pernille receive their legacy jersey's and don't be ashamed to cry. It's normal," he said to you. You had always liked James, he was like a silent force that always brought wisdom to the team. "I just don't want to make it about me," you said as he palpated your neck. "Crying wouldn't make it about you, if anything it would go to show how much of an effect they had on you, and how much you love them," he said.

You nodded slowly, starting to realize that maybe not being with the group attracted more attention than you wanted. So, you thanked him and jogged to meet the girls who were still going around and thanking the fans.

"You okay?" Kadeisha asked you, draping an arm around your shoulder. "Yeah, upset but yeah," you told her.

As the two gave their speeches, you really saw the contrast between them. Magda was absolutely breaking down in tears and Pernille was just laughing and smiling, rubbing her girlfriends back. The second their speeches were done, you couldn't hold back the tidewave of emotions you were feeling. You crouched down to the ground, pulling your jersey over your face and letting out a shaky sob. Right away, you felt a hand on your back and then you noticed that the person, or maybe people had crouched down next to you. "We will always be in your life, you know?" Magdas voice said sadly. "I know," you cried, pulling down your jersey and looking at her with broken eyes. "Is it stupid to be scared that you'll like your new team more and replace me. I don't want you to forget that you'll always be like my mother," you said to her.

She pulled you up to her feet and held your face, rubbing her thumb on your cheeks. "You will always be like my daughter. You, Jessie, Niahm, Sam, you are all my kids. I won't ever love a team more than this one, you hear me?"

You nodded and Magda pulled you into a hug, behind her, you could see Jessie crying and hugging Pernille.

It sucked, things sucked, but you knew that your mothers would always be your mothers, and that their heart would always be at least 60% blue.