#(not that i have room to talk i obsess over the most basic men ever)

[cybersunnie]

these edits of paul mescal in gladiator ii.... scrumptious

[autisticrosewilson]

Since the Loser Grant au is generating interest I figured I'd tell you guys how it came to be! The idea was actually from @perseus-jackass and they sent me this excerpt from the song Want Me by Baby Queen

And I was so obsessed with it that I wrote a little blurb about their first meeting!

Grant stops short, midway through a joke that no longer matters. His eyes find the boy again, gaze raking over tan skin and the way uniform shorts hug muscular thighs. Perfect dark curls frame a flushed face and when the boy turns towards him Grant can see a sharp grin and crooked nose. There's a smattering of freckles on his cheeks and a scar cutting vertically through his bottom lip. He's the prettiest thing Grants has ever seen, a vision lit by fluorescent lights like some kind of angel. 

"-ant. GRANT!" A voice reaches through the dreamy haze that's settled over him, and he sluggishly glances back to Jade who looks remarkably unimpressed despite being in the same room as a nymph.

"Who's that?" He nods towards his future husband.

Jade looks even more apprehensive when she notices who he's talking about. "Don't start getting ideas Grant, Jason's so far out of your league it's not even funny." She informs him.

Jason... "Not what I asked." He insists stubbornly.

"Jason Wayne, newest ward of Bruce Wayne. Honors Society, skipped a grade so he's in our year, student body president two years in a row, and he attends at least half the clubs on campus. He doesn't do any sports though, he's got some kind of condition that makes him more fragile than others. Probably for the best, if I had to live up to Dick Grayson in the athletics department... It would drive me crazy." She relays with a sigh.

So basically he's perfect. "How do you know so much about him?" Grant squints at her suspiciously. Sure they both have honors Society but that's more than she usually knows about their peers.

She fixes him with a deadpan look. "He's my partner in AP chem and we're both in the gardening club." 

"Is he single?" Surely not, Grant thinks, surely someone has noticed this angel by now. "Is he into men?" He continues.

"Leave him alone Grant, I'm serious. He's a good guy and he doesn't need you to be...weird. We don't want a repeat of last time." She says pointedly.

He hates when she brings that up. It's really not his fault he got caught, how was he supposed to know she had a dog? He's positive it won't happen that way this time. Besides this is different, she wasn't Jason. "Answer the question." He pleads. 

"For your information, I don't know. But I suspect he has something going on with Eddie Bloomberg." She tells him wearily.

Grant narrows his eyes. He'd heard, vaguely, of the guy. A lanky redhead who'd transferred from L.A., some movie producer's nephew or something. The most interesting thing about him is that he hasn't been permanently dress coded for wearing graphic T-shirts under his uniform shirt. A plan starts to form. Clearly, Jason is as in need of Grant's company as Grant is his. He just needs to get closer-

Jason glances his way, the prettiest brown eyes Grant has ever seen brush past him, that perfect quirk of lips is angled his way for just a moment and in that half second everything is right. Something inside him settles even as every nerve is lit up, poprocks under his skin. The moment is over as quickly as it started, Jason closes his locker and adjusts his books. When he starts towards his first class Grant moves to follow, pulled through space by the gravity in Jason's orbit, but Jade's iron grip on his shoulder stops him.

He yelps as he's jerked back, Jade looks more serious than he's ever seen her. "I'm serious Grant. I know how you get, with your...fixations. Jason is a good kid, I don't want you messing with him." She warns.

Grant scowls, shaking her off. He opens his mouth to pick a fight before he gathers his thoughts. With a sigh he lets himself untense. "Okay,"  he concedes, "I promise."

Jade eyes him suspiciously but nods. "Good." She closes her locker with a little more force than necessary. "Do you have any ideas for the project in bio then?”

~~~~~~~~~

I imagine he got around his promise to her by bringing up that Jason OFFERED to study with him! So it's not HIS doing that they hang out so much!! He tactfully doesn't mention that he's the reason they got paired together to begin with.

[enaspaces]

my shuri headcanons 𓃠

a dump of my thoughts because i love her and she’s taken over my mind

• on the trans/nonbinary spectrum. more specifically a demigirl and doesn’t care what pronouns you use on him. owns a binder for specific days that she wants her chest to look flat.

• very lesbian. her heart is for women and non-men 🏳️‍🌈

• i view her as a stud or a stem. it depends on how i’m feeling atm.

• she’s not just a nerd in the science sense she’s a huge fandom geek and has a stan twitter account to talk about her interests.

• also has fan edits of her favorite characters and interests saved on her phone. probably makes her own edits too.

• average minecraft enjoyer (she’s obsessed)

• reads a lot of wlw comics, novels, and other media bc they’re a gay ass.

• has AuDHD, argue with ur mama.

• is almost always seen wearing noise cancelling headphones or earbuds because she gets overstimulated at times. when she visits riri in chicago for the first time, the constant loud city noise is something he’s not used to. he had forgot to pack the headphones he made for himself so riri makes him a custom made pair to help him relax. they end up using riri’s more than their own. (riri indulgently put small cat ears on the top of them and shuri almost cried at the sight).

• catgirl energy. riri may make her look tall but that’s still a 5’5 girl twink that stopped growing at age 13. she’s small and likes to sit on counters, lab tables, the floor and any other weird place that’s not meant to be sat on. she curls up in a ball when she sleeps alone, and if she’s in the bed with someone else her limbs are all over their body. has cute sounding sneezes that m’baku makes fun of her for. one of the lab workers once found her asleep in a random corner of the room. naturally very light-footed and basically has human toe beans, making it very easy to sneak up on people without them hearing.

• has quite a few fidget toys to help her focus on work in the lab and ease her anxiety. a rubik’s cube, fidget spinners, stress ball, pop its, etc.

• she stims. so much. especially after she successfully completes a task or experiment and she’ll do a dance or do the lil hand flapping thing. her vocal stims are always random song lyrics or tiktok meme audios lol.

• has a sweet tooth. when okoye was a dora she’d occasionally bring candy or other sweets for her to snack on. riri goes to the store and buys him all the popular american snacks for him to try. nakia always has a mini stash prepared for when they visit her and toussaint in haiti.

• favorite color is purple. it just suits her.

• a GAMER™. she plays all genres but her favs are probably minecraft, puzzle, or rhythm games. did i mention minecraft? she loves it. riri loves rpgs and pvp games the most and has her play smash bros ultimate pretty often. they’re super competitive with each other and both sore losers lmao. shuri got her to play minecraft once and riri kept getting blown up by creepers.

• ↑ she becomes super close with mj, ned, and vivian through riri. they’re always on discord vc together playing games and doing many other things and it’s the most chaotic shit you’ve ever seen.

• if the word ticklish was personified. simply elbowing her in the stomach on accident would get a giggle outta her. every ticklish spot she has is extremely sensitive and you could have her curled up cackling in tears with ease.

• funny as hell for no reason. life of the party fr. she takes her jokester persona very seriously but sometimes she’s hilarious without even trying. the first time she ever smoked weed was with riri in her dorm and riri never laughed so hard in her life that day. shuri was literally all over the place. she’s definitely a lightweight too, just as goofy, giggly, and clingy in her drunken state.

• definitely likes kpop girl groups. I can’t prove it but they love loona you just have to trust me.

• also loves vocaloid and has a hatsune miku figure in her room somewhere. trust me on that.

• has a list of favorite black american artists. riri definitely put her on some r&b classics and less mainstream artists. has a massive celebrity crush on black women rappers.

• music taste is very versatile. her playlist has almost everything. she just can’t listen to one genre only, she’s too open minded and exploratory for that.

• he’s not one to fall in love easily, but when he does he falls hard. riri was the first person he ever fell for and it changed the trajectory of his life, poor thing had no idea what to do with that information.

• a romantic, lovesick loser. cannot flirt to save his life. flustering him is so fucking easy lmao. riri once called him shawty and he malfunctioned for 5 minutes. whenever he’s on the phone with riri his crush is genuinely so obvious to everyone around him. he be giggling and cheesing real hard 😭. kicking his feet squealing on the bed when he’s alone thinking about the cute nickname riri called him.

• her love language is acts of service and gift giving. she’s not always good with words or emotions so she expresses her appreciation towards her loved ones by distributing her wealth in many ways. buying riri things she might need for college, fixing stuff that breaks in nakia’s home. things like that.

• has trouble being vulnerable with those close to her. she’s lost so much, so opening up to new people is always a scary, big step. it took a while for her to let mj, ned, and viv into her heart because the closer she becomes with them, the more it’ll hurt if she loses them. they take her in with open arms regardless, because having a support system with people her age is something she needs. they take her seriously in ways that the elders don’t. they see her for who she is outside of being a royal figure to her country and allows her to be her full, authentic, geeky self. she’s able to grasp onto the youth that she almost lost when her family was taken away.

• very talkative. can infodump about an interest for hours and completely lose track of time if you let them. they cannot stay still when excited, nor can they keep eye contact, pacing around the room and darting their eyes everywhere while rambling about the history of vibrainium or something.

• maladaptive daydreaming. will lose herself in a song and start imagining scenarios in her head. t’challa once caught her in the act and refused to delete the video footage. sometimes, she pulls up the video her brother recorded just to hear his laughter in the background.

[marciabrady]

your thoughts on the unofficial princess girls ! (ex; esmeralda, meg, jane, kida) even the younger ones like melody, jane from peter pan II, eilonwy, wendy darling you can pick any ones you’d like to talk about !

I'll mention all the ones that you did!

Esmeralda- I love her. As is the case with every other female character on this list, the actual production of her film was never one I took to as a child because of the fact that she was the only female character/existed in a largely male universe, but after rewatching her movie as a teenager, I did grow in love with her. It lasted for a few years, and then moods of Esmeralda would come and go- so she isn't a consistent favorite- but I do think she has such a unique voice and song and design and I ADORE how mature she is. It's so refreshing, for how silly and childish the 3d girls are, to see an animated character that is really meant for adults. I love how she brushes on deeper topics of religion and kindness and social equality. I think she was ahead of her time and it always astounds me that she was written in an age before the internet, but has seemed to reflect so many ideals and sensibilities that have only been able to be apparent through all the different voices the forum of the internet enabled in the years after this film's release. I love that they didn't whitewash her, too, and I wish we'd get to see more of her culture.

Meg- So Meg is definitely someone who's always been an internet favorite and, while she does venture into 'not like other girls' territory, there is a charm to her, her design, and voice acting that I can't help but love. Ultimately, I do appreciate that she's morally grey but it does make me want to protect Hercules from her lol I think most people like Meg because of the whole sassy, jaded thing though, which is fine, but I think it's the same as when people only like Tiana for her toxic grind personality pre character arc. Meg's only that way because of trauma and she does it to cover up who she truly is, as a shield, so I prefer the sensitive underbelly of who she is and how she's actually the most basic person in the room. I find the parts where she's candid about her fear of heights and her back and forth with Phil more entertaining than her composed, cool edge. Although I will say, her action of giving her life in exchange for her boyfriend's was one of the most confusing actions I've ever seen a Disney character take and I think they kinda made her entirely storyline about men (she's enslaved by Hades, her objective is to trap Hercules because that's what Hades told her to do to regain her freedom, which she lost because of her ex boyfriend which made her jaded) and I wish they let her have friends who were girls or at least female characters to interact with.

Jane- Okay my answer is going to sound confusing so I'm going to preface with this: I do like Jane and I would want more representation for her. I think she has some of the best fans and she is enjoyable/generally delightful. However, I will say she made me wish we didn't get any more white women in animation for a while lol we'd already had a lot of white leading ladies before this (and she broke a successful women of color streak with Jasmine and Pocahontas and Mulan), and she still abides to an eurocentric beauty standard, so to appease that quotient of the audience but still make her stick out they just over-emphasized her even more than the 10 or more white women that came out before her had been? Her eyes were EVEN more buggish, she was EVEN skinnier, she had even more prominent cheekbones, etc, and i just wanted a more diverse design and a breath of fresh air. I also think it's irritating how obsessed American audiences are with English/Australian accents (but not other cultures' accents which...smh) so like...that makes me sigh HOWEVER I do love the fact that she studies animals and I think she is unique and lovely

Kida- Again, love how mature and intelligent and athletic she is. I kind of wish that Moana was written more like Kida, in that sense, instead of being on the Rapunzel end of things. But I love Kida's design and her personality and her doll and crystal necklace from Mcdonald's was iconic in my household lol I even cut triangles into my bangs when I was in preschool because I was going for the textured layers she had in the animation but didn't know how to mentally translate that into the real world lol her movie is pretty good, I just haven't seen it too many times and she isn't someone I connect with personally but I love her fans and do think she's incredible and admire her and the people who love her more intimately

Melody- I never took to Melody because I was an Ariel fan so I always felt that we were shortchanged by her being the main character of the sequel. Since I loved Ariel, she's the one I sided with in disagreements and still kind of do? Their dynamic is so much weaker compared to Ariel/Triton because Triton was an active bigot and shut Ariel down, time and time again, silencing her and infusing their dynamic with so many layers and nuances. Ariel and Melody's relationship is kinda predicated on interruptions and bad timing? Just as Melody opens up to her mother, Eric comes on screen and interrupts everything. Ariel decides it's time to tell Melody of her mermaid heritage, only for Melody to have escaped a few minutes prior. Also, even though Triton was blatantly abusive (even though unintentional), Ariel still had so much love for him and attacked Ursula physically when she saw her Father reduced to a polyp. Even after Triton screams at her and destroys her Grotto, she openly says, "Daddy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Where, Ariel is literally trying to explain things to Melody and is being openly apologetic and Melody just mean mugs her and says "too late mom" lol plus she's super young which, again, I take to more mature characters. That being said, I do know there's been a large community of Melody lovers in recent years and I do think they're all great! I also think most of the people who think they're Ariel's are more Melody's because Ariel fans tend to be fixated on the ocean, which Ariel herself would never be- that's more Melody. Plus a lot of Ariel fans just tend to seem more like Melody in general, energy wise, and she is a more rare character and any rare character getting more love is something I'm here for

Jane (from Peter Pan 2)- I think they did a good job with not being afraid to make her unlikable but because she's such a tomboy AND younger, there's nothing really here for me to latch on to. I was so sad they cut the mermaids, and Wendy's character (they kept her but to a minor extent) because they really only had a dying Tinker Bell for female representation and then a Jane that was "one of the guys" and the first Lost Girl ever but with nothing else for us that loved Wendy and Mrs. Darling and the mermaids of the original film. So, again, it's fine but just not for me personally

Eilonwy- Okay, this is an answer that surprises even myself but I don't really like her? As a child, I took her VHS from Blockbuster because the cover had a princess in a pink dress lol but I never really rewatched the movie after that or thought about it. I revisited it when I was a teenager and ADORED it. I wrote Eilonwy and read the books and was obsessed, but I guess it was short-lived because I didn't visit the movie for a decade afterwards and, when I did, I found her unlikable? I felt like she was very abrupt, prone to having unnecessary fits and kinda rude and didn't have the charm to balance it out BUT I'm convinced I'll warm up to her again in due time. I don't think she'll ever be a top favorite though

Wendy- 10/10 LOML there is so much warmth to her and I LOVE how she's at that age where she babbles you know why because it shows she's PASSIONATE and she's so forgiving and lovely and kind and imaginative and I love that she's the "supreme authority on Peter Pan" just as most of us on Tumblr have taken it upon ourselves to educate ourselves on whatever we're fascinated by. I also love that she has an edge and isn't a doormat and she's the one calling the shots and moving the story forward. I think writers are the most intellectually stunning people in the world and this movie acknowledges that by how prized she is for her storytelling ability. Also, how could you NOT love a character voiced by Kathryn Beaumont? Perfection, chef's kiss, one of my favorites ever!!

[jellofish4000]

Women and Unforgiven

01/11/23

I’ve made the conscious decision to kick this year off with a bang. New Years resolutions have never really been a thing that I partake in but it seems as though I’ve run into some problems I’d like to solve in my life. Problems as a source of inspiration. Always the best type of inspiration. The most effective. One problem led to another: Now I am making my first attempt at reading the ginormanimasous entity of a novel titled Infinite Jest. I am enjoying it tremendously so far. I have not yet experienced the notorious pang of fatigue I have been warned of or the rip-the-book-in-half-throw-it-against-the-wall jolt of frustration, although if I get a little more into it I may very well cross into the rip-the-book-into-various-sections-and-rearrange-it territory I have been advised on. As much as my interest in this novel may pique at a fairly high point within my extensive library of special interests, I can’t see my Obsessive Compulsive Fan disorder ever straying me down the path of book vandalism. My OCF can and has guided me into the murky waters of low quality, disseminated and redisseminated  David Foster Wallace interviews. Obviously you surf the web, but at some point you gotta abandon your surfboard for a boat, a boat for a submarine, a submarine for scuba gear and eventually just take that dive all by yourself until page 30 out of 435 can be seen on the Google search engine horizon. A perpetual trek onwards. Today I find myself at the halfway mark of Wallace’s 1997 interview with Charlie Rose, the part where they bring up the 1992 film Unforgiven. The two men sing their praises for the movie for a minute before moving on, but in that one minute, Wallace mentioned something that offended me. I am offended. 

No, I am not offended. I am joking. But his comment was interesting. Wallace claimed in the interview that all the women he mentioned or showed Unforgiven to did not like it. As a woman, one who did enjoy Unforgiven, I want to formally assert that I am simply not like other women. 

No, I am very much like all other women. I am joking. But I do want to respond to Wallace, because there’s more science to his statement. I’d like to think he contemplated why all the women he surveyed did not like Unforgiven. 

David, if I may, or I can say Mr. Foster Wallace if you’d prefer, I want to explain, on behalf of all women, as the leading ambassador of all women across all space and time, why we do not all collectively like Unforgiven. Some of us do. But regardless of whether we like or do not like Unforgiven, I present my 2023 self before your 1997 presence on Charlie Rose’s talk show to assure you that we all have some same basic level of criticism for Unforgiven. 

As a woman, Unforgiven is entirely unrelatable. The film grapples with some larger, overarching concepts of addiction, particularly to alcohol and violence, and of course, it introduces probably one of the first narratives of the female sex worker as a thought-having, politically active, independent human being in a Western as opposed to the Stagecoach-esque damsel in distress prostitute typical of the genre. That is not the divisive part. What makes this film so divisive among the sexes is its one defining quality: Violence. Sure, this can be said of any high action, high budget, easily digestible box office picture, but a clearer argument can be made in the case of Unforgiven. Over the course of a few weeks last semester, I spent a considerable amount of time with this movie. Mr. Foster Wallace, if you would’ve cornered me outside of my Introductory Film Studies class after just having spent 2 hours and 11 minutes in a dark room full of various university students doodling on their notebooks, fast asleep in their barely-comfortable chairs, drinking water every two minutes just to keep themselves awake, and regretting taking the Film Studies course because they were coming to the slow realization that they had to watch something other than the easily digestible box office picture every other day, my response would have blended in perfectly with all the other women you had asked previously. I did not like Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven. But later that semester I was assigned a paper on that very film, effectively being forced into a stuffy closet with it until I came back out with various metaphorical hickies on my neck and 2000 words on all the ways it only provided an echo chamber for American hyper-individualistic ideology. 

Mr. Foster Wallace, Unforgiven is so male. You and Mr. Charlie Rose were bound to like it. Having watched and watched and then rewatched, I grew to appreciate the film. I grew to understand how revolutionary it was in the realm of the American Western picture, I even grew to enjoy it. But what I gathered most of all from my dissection of this film was that it was never meant for me. For a woman, I mean. Out of the many things I am, I think my sex is a defining quality. It affects every aspect of my life, including how I, as a tried and true cinephile, consume media. I am generally forgiving (and occasionally funny). Generally very open to the stretching of the truth and the cutting of corners. But this movie is quite stiff and rigid, like an ancient block of cheese. Clint Eastwood, an icon of machismo in U.S. entertainment, is our main character, and although he tries his hand at some revisionism, it falls flat. We are introduced to Munny as a changed man, one with two small children and a pig farm and a humble little home and a deceased wife that forever altered his world view. He’s asked to carry out a hit on behalf of an unfairly abused prostitute and agrees to do so. After holding down the fast forward button for a good two minutes and watching all the little frames go by on the Netflix application, we get to the end where he single handedly massacres a room full of men in a bar, downs a couple shots of whisky, threatens a reporter’s life, swears that he’s not afraid of doing it again, before riding off into the night with an American flag splayed in the shot behind him. Eastwood’s character breaks every promise he had made to his dead wife: He defies every word he said in the beginning of the film about “change” and “better person”. To top it all off, every man in the movie is just as bad as him: If not worse. As a female viewer, a carrot is dangled in front of us in the beginning of Unforgiven. We are enticed with the prospect of a good man, one that has allowed the better forces in his life to infiltrate his soul and give his existence a new meaning outside of senseless violence. By the end, it is clear that we were lured into a trap. The prospect is the kicker here. It is the most redeeming quality of this film and it is yanked from underneath our feet. I am not holding the film in contempt or demanding an end to violence in all movies ever, I am simply speaking for all women when I say: We are tired. As the half of the population that suffers from insurmountable amounts of physical abuse at the hands of the other half: We are tired. We are tired and weary of the prospect. The prospect of non-violence. The prospect of a man that respects us. The prospect of a truly changed man. Getting to the end of Unforgiven is another failed prospect. Same old. Exhausting. 

There are wonderful films out there that partake in copious amounts of violence. The 1993 revisionist Western, Tombstone, for example, is chalked full of ridiculously glorious shoot outs in true Western fashion. But, again speaking on behalf of all women because I am the ambassador of all women everywhere, it is a marginally more enjoyable movie. What makes it much better in some ways is not the absence of violence, but rather a presence of vulnerability. Tombstone gives way to a story we women want to hear. One of true change and eventual peace and prosperity amongst men. Tombstone shows the emotion of man, at first being channeled through the shoot outs and the use of violence, but later on, after the men have realized all the suffering they’ve caused, channeled into a productive and intimate resolution of peace. The small gay love story between a cowboy and a showman rings loudly in the background. The final tender moments between Val Kilmer and Kurt Russell’s characters make room for macho manly men to let down their guards and express love for one another after a long period of hate. The small shot of a wagon full of women passing by with bold “Equal Pay for Equal Work” signs raised above their heads. Johnny Ringo and Doc Holliday’s verbal face offs before finally succumbing to their weapons: Their quirky dynamic subtly emphasizing the idea of violence as a final resort. And in the end, Kurt Russell leaves town not with the prospect of returning to wreak havoc again, but rather with the reality that violence was never the answer in the first place.  Mr. Foster Wallace, the Western can be a wonderful thing. It can be truly revolutionized. Whereas Unforgiven had and still has a grip on the critics and film analysts for its “revolutionary” ways, I want to bring up the question of who is it serving? When men like you ask women like me if we liked Unforgiven and all of us say ‘no’, I think it is fascinating and it deserves to be looked into. It’s not “because it’s a Western (Which it’s not)” as you told Charlie Rose or because we can’t see its value and intentions. Of course its intentions are clear. It has always been abundantly apparent that Unforgiven was a rarity in Western cinema when it came out. But Mr. Foster Wallace, if you were a woman that had seen that tired story play out a thousand times in the world around you, would you “like the film?”

[karkkidoeswriting]

Here's some thoughts from someone obsessed with historical fashion.

(I will talk about men's and women's fashion in very binary terms here, not because I want to imply gender essentialism but so I don't have to repeat "people considered women/men", because that's what I'm talking about here, the cultural concepts of men and women in Western history. I'm also going to simplify a lot different periods and styles.)

If you want to give a bit of thought to your fantasy fashion, the type of closure would depend on what kind of garment is in question. I made a very long post about how lacing was used in Western fashion since it's first appearance in Europe in 11th century to early 20th century on my dress history blog (it focuses on women's fashion to limit the scope and that's what i know more about). The tl;dr though is that lacing and the other closure methods have a very different usages. Lacing was used in supportive and structural garments. Firstly lacing stretches the fabric so the fabric needs to have some structure and strength to hold itself together and to hold it's shape and not become very wrinkly (wrinkliness can be a choice too like with bliaut though). Secondly supportive garments stop being supportive without lacing. To be supportive they need to fit snugly and exactly to the body. You could perfectly fit a garment to a body and give it a zipper sure, but it would stop fitting perfectly when you eat, wake up, have changes in hormones or like have any other changes to your body that happens in small scale every day and in large scale thorough human life constantly. Lacing gives a bit of room to adjust the garment and allows the garment to fit well through at least the smaller scale changes. Especially with more strongly shaping garments too, it eases the shape into the the body as you tighten the lacing to be fitting while it's on. It can do damage to for example put on a corset without loosening the lacing first, even if it's already the right fit.

Lacing was used as the main closure method in dresses from 14th to late 17th century. (Excluding loose outer layer dresses like houppelande and Burgundian dress which were worn over fitted kirtles in Medieval and Renaissance Eras.) This was because at the time dress itself was structured and even multiple structural layers were frequently worn on top of each other. First separate structural garments started to appear for the very rich upper class in early 1500s in the form of pair of bodies (predecessor of stays), but they were mainly used in casual setting with sleeves or layered with structured gown. Here's some examples from Late Medieval and Renaissance periods of lasing as closure in the gowns. The first is 15th century kirtle with front lacing, the second a 16th century German Gown again with front lacing and the third is a 17th century bodice with much more hidden back lacing.

Mantua changed things in 1680s and the structural layer started to become an undergarment. Mantua was a loose and draping garment and using lacing for that makes no sense. During 18th century fitted gowns came back in fashion, but they did not become structured again as dressmaking and fashion had already fundamentally changed, rather the structure was given by the stays. At the time fabric was more available in abundance than ever and that meant that rich and even middle class people were able to have more clothing than they needed. As structuring a garment needs a lot of precision and work making it expensive, it would have been very expensive to have all your dresses carefully fitted and constructed. After 18th century basically no outer layer was closed with lacing. (During most of 18th century French court gowns were still made with rigid bodice and closed with lacing). Decorative lacing though popped up as a trend from time to time.

Beside zippers, snap fasteners and hooks, the other popular historical closing methods were buttons, which were popularized as closing method in 1300s, drawstrings, which were probably used at least as long as lacing, pins, arguably the original closing method and of course belts, girdles and such, which are also contenders for the original closing methods. Clothing pins and their close cousins, brooches, have been used to pin clothing on the body for thousands of years. They were not just used for chitons, tunics, cloaks and such in Antiquity, but used thorough history. Hooks are really old, but they were used especially in 19th century and early 20th century for gowns as they were easy to hide and as said, the supportive layer was under the gown. Buttons are pretty obvious, but not always. Sometimes gowns were close with buttons that were hidden. For example, this bodice from 1840s has two hidden layers of buttons. The first is made from the more sturdy fabric with bigger sturdier buttons and it's the functional part here. The second buttons are very small and just close the delicate fashion fabric to hide the functional layer.

Drawstrings were especially popular in Regency fashion (though hooks and buttons were also popular then). I think it's because people often used multiple layers of more or less gathered dresses made from delicate fabrics. The drawstring closures often leaves gaps but with multiple dresses layered, this was not an issue.

Pins might seem an inconvenient closure method, as you'd think it might fall off and stab you very easily. The early clothing pins were not very pointy and were quite big, so this was not an issue then. Later clothing pins were used especially from late 1500s to 1700s, during this time you would have a heavily boned or otherwise stiffened structural layer which would protect you from the pins stabbing you. Before mantua especially working and middle class people used looser jackets and waistcoats, which were only pinned closed, like seen in the first example below. Upper class people would usually have buttons or even lacing for similar garments. Mantua and it's later variants in very late 17th century and 18th century were also pinned. Mantua's pleates were not sewn, but pinned down and it was closed with pins and a belt (the second picture below). Later as it developed into robe a la francaise and robe a la englaise and other so many variants, the pleats were sewn but the belt was done away and the gown was only pinned close with a stomacher or not (the last one below, pinned on the front without a stomacher). The advantage of pins is that it's very quick to put on and take of, it's very easily adjustable and it's frees you from having to do the work of sewing different closure methods (sewing button holes with hands is a pain I can tell you) or possibly having to try to hide them.

Belts have been used often with more or less loose outer garments, since you inherently can't get a very right fit with it and as it has one closure point it has to be loose to cover properly or has to have something under it. I already showed how mantua was closed with belts, but also late medieval outer garments also frequently used belts as closure, like with houppelande and Burdungian gown (though sometimes houppelandes were closed with buttons or even lacing).

One last thing. Even if I spent here most of the time talking about women's fashion, men's fashion also used lacing and structural garments. I feel like people often think it's only women's fashion thing. To not make it this way too long, here's a quick reel of some examples through time. Men wore laced bliaut (first) and kirtle (second), just like women. In 16th century men's and women's fashion diverged, but it did not mean men would stop using lacing. (Especially late) 18th century waistcoats typically had lacing in the back to shape the silhouette and keep the fabric smooth in the front.

And yes, men, or specifically fashionable men, wore stays and corsets. It was purely for the silhouette, unlike for (cis) women, who also would gain very practical benefits of breast support from their structural garments. So not all men used them and they were considered quite vein for men to use.

But all in all, fantasy fashion doesn't need to be historical or adhere to history, but looking at history I think gives a lot of ideas and better understanding in how things like closure methods work and therefore helps build a more believable world.

An incomplete list of garment-related things that were invented earlier than you probably think they were:

The predecessor to the zipper was invented in the 1890s and the first recognizable zippers were invented in the 19-teens, first used on boots and other heavy-duty items.

Snap fasteners were first patented in 1885. Like, the buttons.

Hooks and eyes are old as balls. I mean it. There are records of them from the 1300s.

You may have noticed a pattern. You may have noticed, perhaps, the emphasis on fasteners. You may be wondering to yourself whether Pancake has A Point To Make.

And the answer is yes, and the point would be this: stop making your fantasy characters lace themselves into everything.

[cutielando]

Hello, can I please request Charles being toxic? 🔥

toxic | c.l.

synopsis: in which you're stuck in a toxic relationship

warnings!!: Charles being possessive, toxic and abusive relationship

my masterlist

You hadn’t realized how bad it had got.

How controlling the relationship had got, how possessive and obsessive Charles had become.

It started off slowly, at first. Wanting to know where you were at every moment of the day, who you were with, how long you were staying, those kinds of things.

And because they were such small gestures, you hadn't given either of them a second thought. You figured he just wanted to know you were safe at all times, that he was just trying to be a good boyfriend.

But then, things started to unravel even more.

He was starting to control you.

Controlling who you were friends with and who you were allowed to hang out with, deciding what you could or couldn't wear out in public, not letting you leave the house without him or one of his family members or close friends with you.

You were slowly starting to become isolated from the people close to you. You found yourself unable to talk to your friends even on the phone because Charles would look through your messages whenever he wanted, unannounced.

The only people that had any idea about your wellbeing were your and his family. That was it.

He had managed to make you dependent on him, to have to be around him at all times so you can function.

And even when you realized that, you knew you couldn't do anything about it. You were in way too deep to back out now, Charles would never dream of letting you leave him.

He would always remind you of that when you would have arguments over his overbearing nature.

The most recent one happened at the party following his Monaco win.

You were both very excited to go and celebrate the impressive win your boyfriend secured, and you were determined to look your best while you were at it.

You had found the perfect dress in your closet, did your best make up and curled your hair to perfection. You don't think you had ever looked as good as you did in that moment.

Excitedly taking in your appearance, you smiled and walked over to where Charles was sitting on the couch, heels echoing on the wooden floor of his apartment.

"What do you think?" you asked, gesturing to your look.

Charles looked up from his phone, a neutral expression on his face. The hesitation made your heart start to beat quicker, knowing that it was never a good sign when it came from Charles.

He cocked his head as he examined your outfit, his lips pursing.

"You're not wearing that in public. Go change into something that doesn't make you look like you're begging for men's attention" he simply stated before he looked back down at his phone.

You were frozen on the spot for a few seconds, trying to process his words. You had been so sure he would like it, give you a kiss and praise you for dressing up so nicely.

And yet, here he was, basically calling you a slut and demanding you wear something less revealing.

You swallowed and nodded to yourself, trying your best not to let the tears spill down your perfectly foundation-covered cheeks.

Quickly finding a long, black dress to wear instead, you sadly looked at yourself in the mirror, not recognizing the woman who was staring back at you.

What happened to the sweet Charles you once knew, the one who would always show you off because he was so proud that you were his? The one who didn't gaslight you, insult you or try to control every aspect of your life?

Questions upon questions were swirling around your mind, but you quickly shut them out when you heard Charles huffing in the living room.

Scrambling, you picked up your purse and emerged once again, sighing silently when he looked you up and down and nodded.

"Let's go" he grumbled, swiping past you towards the garage.

The car ride to the event was silent and the air was filled with tension, but it was nothing new. The tension between you two had been present for a while now, and you knew what the signs meant.

Your relationship was nothing like it used to be and is never going to be the same again, the only wise decision you could make was to leave.

But you couldn't do that. He wouldn't let you leave him, you were in too deep to get out now. You hadn't thought to leave when you had the chance, so you had to get used to the idea that this was your life now, and this was going to be your life from now on.

You had been so deep in thought that you hadn't realized Charles had parked the car and was talking to you.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you" you apologized, giving him your best apologetic face to make sure he doesn't have a fit before you got out of the car.

He smiled and brushed it off, a rare moment of sweetness before the inevitable storm.

"It's okay, amour. Now, this is a very important party for me and the team, and there will be a lot of people and cameras around. I don't want you to embarrass me or do anything stupid, okay?" and there it was, that sweet and gentle tone, bringing your mood down as soon as the words left his mouth.

Your smile faltered for a split second before you nodded. He smiled and kissed your cheek, finally getting out of the car.

Gulping and closing your eyes to ground yourself.

Plastering a fake smile on your face, you got out of the car and immediately went to Charles, posing with him.

As if you were the most perfect couple in the world.

Happy as ever.

While you were slowly losing yourself and dying on the inside.

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[navree]

Regarding the rhaena ask as somebody who adores fanon rhaena i think people for get how little characterisation ALL the team black kids have in cannon they basically just exist either to die or build out the family tree in f&b and the show doesn't help with this cutting jace and cregan which is like THE ONE THING JACE DOES??, Rhaena and Baela have like 4 lines each it's insane

Yeah I've been singing this song for a while, the younger gen of Team Black got absolutely no characterization. Jace had a bit in episodes 6 & 7 about having some hangups over Harwin being his father, but I think they abandoned that when they realized that Jace having issues about his birth might make him conflicted about his mom and we can't have that, no one is allowed to view Rhaenyra unsympathetically ever and we can't allow subtleties because this fandom is made up of 90% morons who wouldn't catch them and then would get pissy. Luke also got no characterization other than what appears to be budding sociopathy given that he's never shown any remorse or guilt over nearly killing a person in a fight where he was at fault. It's why I burst out laughing when 1x10 opened, because that whole "mummy I am small bean give me kisses while I bat my doe eyes" scene was so transparently a way to get people to care about Luke so that we wouldn't all be left scratching our heads going "oh OK" when Vhagar ate him, since they utterly failed to develop him at all at that point.

Baela and Rhaena I've always said have it most egregiously. I cannot stress this enough, I could not name five individual characteristics for either of those girls. Did they even have any lines after the second time jump? The writers put no effort into them at all. Zip, zilch, zero. And I'm getting pissy anons (honestly I think it's actually one person who's obsessed with me and just jumps on my ass the second I talk about either Baela or Rhaena because they have nothing better to do than stalk my little blog but that's just a theory) about the fact that I'm not invested in the character? That I don't care about her? That her actions are illogical to me as an audience member because they belie an emotion that was never shown because she got no characterization? No, I'm sorry, blame the writers. I am the consumer of the product, I am the audience, it is actually not incumbent on me to create a character out of whole cloth for the writing team. If they want me to care about Rhaena, put some fucking effort into her character. Give her lines, give her a personality, give her a fucking storyling (I mean, other than Nettles, seeing as how Black women are not in fact interchangeable HBO and it's not even just a racist writing decision, it's straight up bad), put in a modicum of work into her. That's the canon fact, there's nothing there, I'm surprised I have to say this outside of the Batman fandom (fanworks Tim Drake my nemesis) but fanon is not canon, and when I'm asked about canon, I'm discussing the canon, save for when I'm specifically asked to theorize and move beyond it.

It is not my fault that I don't care about a character because the writers decided not to give her anything, nor am I a bad person for fucking pointing it out and just being a bit blunt in my language while doing so. It's not that hard for these writers to actually put their backs into it and write a story, especially with the room they have with Rhaena, since she didn't even fucking do anything for the entire Dance anyway except faff around in the Vale.

I also think the absolutely atrocious way Rhaena and Baela were handled can't really be divorced from some internal prejudices the writers have. I mean, it really hasn't escaped my notice that the two younger gen characters who got the most development were Aegon and Aemond, two men. And it absolutely has not escaped my notice that, even though Helaena got significantly less character moments than her brothers, she still got a base characterization that's remained consistent and can lead to further personal plots in coming seasons (like her dragon-dreaming). Helaena, played by a white actress, was allowed this dignity, while Baela and Rhaena, played by two Black actors, were not. Combined with the lack of care given to the Velaryons as a whole, I've mentioned this before but it doesn't paint a great picture of this writer's room and any real attempts to be diverse and inclusive beyond performative casting that they aren't willing to work with in any meaningful way. Not all of it is internalized prejudices, there was clearly just no effort put into characterizing any of the younger TB characters as a whole (or even any of the TB characters other than Rhaenyra and Daemon in a meaningful way), considering Jace had nothing and Luke could have spent his entire time on the show being played by a literal shrub and it still wouldn't have made a difference. There was clearly more effort put into characterizing the Team Green kids, and conversely none to their Team Black counterparts, but it's still bad writing, and I'm gonna call that out when I see it.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #161

What’s the worst side effect you’ve had from a medication? In middle school, a medicine I'd started for either depression or bipolar symptoms resulted in me becoming a literal fucking demon around the time school would end; I'd go into school on cloud nine, hyper and happy as hell, but I was a kid my mom didn't even recognize when she'd pick me up around 3-ish, and for absolutely no reason. I was just insanely aggressive, snappy, permanently scowling, and all-around unpleasant. I did nooooot stay on the med long.

What has been the most effective medication you’ve taken, & what was it for? Latuda with Lamictal as a catalyst. It wasn't until I started this combination that I started to feel life in me after the breakup, and I absolutely consider it to have played a deep part in helping me climb out of my depression pit. That's when I really started to improve. I only ever stopped it because I guess my body got too used to it, because I stopped responding to it.

Do you keep your health issues private, or are you open about them? I'm pretty open about this stuff.

Do you have a service dog? No.

Do you know if you can have kids or not? I would assume so, I have a regular menstrual cycle and I've definitely gotten cramping around the times I should've been ovulating too, so.

What’s one med that has made you gain weight? Abilify, which I will fucking never touch again. It entirely murdered my metabolism and is one of the root causes of my initial extreme weight gain.

Have you ever felt unsafe in a hospital? Sure have, primarily the last time I was there waiting to go to the psych hospital and there was a very unstable man basically stuck there because no nearby hospitals would take him or something like that. He had to be regularly sedated. Even more than this case, while at the psych hospital last, I KNOW I've talked plenty about the man that was pure rapist material in there that would cross over onto the women's wing (the doors are supposed to stay locked, by the way) and literally roam down our hall peeking into the rooms like a total fucking predator, he was terrifying. He would heavily flirt with various women and was just fucking appalling, I can barely believe he was allowed in this section of the hospital, and the staff was so shit at ACTUALLY grabbing this man and MAKING him go back to the men's side, they'd just call to him but ultimately do nothing. I hate that hospital so motherfucking much, I can't believe it's still standing.

As a child, did you ever watch any shows on TV that were maybe too grown-up or a little inappropriate? Not in general, however I was totally obsessed with Jurassic Park 3, like I watched the movie SO many times, and the levels of gore may definitely be considered a lot for a young kid, but I handled it fine and it never made me really upset to see, plus my parents knew how much I fuckin' loved dinos, so they allowed it. I do wonder how I first saw it though, haha.

Do you remember how old you were, when you first began to use swearwords? Not the exact age, but I DO know I was definitely in 7th grade, however old I was then.

Are there any foods or beverages that you loved as a child but wouldn't touch as an adult? Uh maybe. I know as a baby I liked peas according to Mom, which I hate now and have for as long as I can remember.

Does anyone in your life use terms of endearment a lot when talking to you? Girt most of all, but also my mom, Girt's mom, I feel like Dad still does sometimes, and occasionally Mazzy and I think Tez will too.

Is there anyone that you communicate with daily, but not in person? Yes, Girt.

Have you discovered any new bands or singers lately, that you're into? No, it's pretty rare I do that, I'm one of those people that tends to stick to what I know, even if I do tend to enjoy new stuff when I chase it.

Have you ever carved a pumpkin before? How about roasting the pumpkin seeds? Yes, I REALLY want to get back into carving pumpkins this year! I've never roasted pumpkin seeds, however; I don't like pumpkins in any way as food.

Do you/have you ever played basketball? Yes, as a kid; besides dance, it's the sport I had the most fun with.

Have you ever owned a pet goldfish before? Only as a child and FAR from properly, I'm talking about those poor fellas you win at fairs and stuff.

Have you ever had a kidney stone before? No, and god I hope I never do, I know people say it's one of the most miserable experiences imaginable. My own mother has had them and she said recently in a relevant convo that she'd rather give birth to triplets than ever experience this again.

Do you like orange soda or orange juice? I like both, yes, ESPECIALLY orange cream soda!! That always takes me back to being a kid and hanging out at my neighbor's place; they tended to keep some brand of it. Man, I'd love to have one of those again.

Have you ever had orange chicken before? How was it? Yes, I don't like it. I generally dislike meat that has a sweetness to it, it doesn't sit right in my mouth.

Do you know how to say “orange” in another language? Haha I guess kinda, it's spelled the same in German, just obviously not pronounced the same. I actually googled it to ensure I was saying it right AND NOPE lmfao man it's been too long

Are your eyebrows thick? I think they look pretty average.

Do you have fat lips? No, another thing that looks pretty average to me, I've never heard a comment about their size.

How big are your hands? Normal in scale, but I do have long and narrow fingers; my hands in general are pretty slim and flowy, I've always been able to like, slide security bracelets from various places off whenever everyone else would need to like cut theirs off.

What is your idea of getting dressed up for oh say… a romantic dinner? I don't really have truly "fancy" attire, so I guess the only real difference would be me getting a shirt from my closet instead of dresser (I keep "fancier" stuff hung up in there versus folded and buried), and I'd likely put a necklace on. Maybe a little bit of perfume, dunno.

What kind of car(s) is parked in your driveway? It's some very old white Kia.

When is the last time you had ice cream? Sunday actually, at Girt's.

Are you white/black/Asian/Mexican/etc? I'm very white lol.

Ever known anyone who did business with a prostitute? Maybe, but I don't know about it.

Are your real parents divorced? If your parents are divorced, how old are your step-parents? Do you like your step-parents, or are they assholes? They're divorced as fuck/I can barely believe they were ever married, and only my dad has re-married since, and his wife is a year or two younger than him. She has asshole beliefs, being aggressively religious and a total bigot about it, but she's also always been good to my sisters and me, and Dad too.

[TW: DOMESTIC ABUSE] Ever had an abusive parent or other family member? If so, what’s the worst they did? Not in my immediate family, no, but I know I have one aunt that we're all pretty sure has been an emotionally abusive parent.

Got any step siblings? If so, how many? Are they annoying or cool? Kim (Dad's aforementioned wife) has one adult son, I think his name's Michael, but I reeeaaally don't know him well at all; he's quiet and very reclusive. Last I knew he still lived with them, but seeing as he has a baby coming now apparently, I have no idea what he's up to, where he's at, anything. I don't even consider him my brother whatsoever with how unfamiliar I am with him.

Are either of your parents engaged but not married yet? No, my mother hasn't even had an s/o following the divorce, which breaks my heart a fucking lot. I worry a lot for when I move out. No partner has ever loved her in a way she actually deserves and it's really upsetting.

Ever had to take care of a baby sibling? If do, did you feel responsible, or were you just annoyed? No, I was only barely two when Nicole was born, so I wasn't taking care of anybody lol.

Have you ever had a close friend get knocked up early? No.

Do you prefer baby boys or baby girls? Girls, I suppose. I know if *I* had a kid I'd absolutely want a girl over a boy for multiple reasons, but when it comes to just kids in general, it doesn't matter much.

Are you one of those losers that buy things with the letter of your name? Lol that's mean, but no, I was never into that.

What’s the highest up you’ve ever been? Uh I actually don't know. Either on an amusement park ride or just in a building.

Do you prefer to be outside or inside? I get more pleasure and peace being outside in weather I can tolerate well, but I'm more often comfortable inside because of AC.

Have you ever planted something? Yeah, a few times.

Do you believe in mermaids? No.

Do you like to be outside in the rain? No, I really hate the feeling of my clothes getting wet.

Does it snow where you live? Rarely; not even every year, and having a good snow that actually stays on the ground for a while is rarer. More than anything, we get mixed condensation, so all the rain just makes it melt.

What’s your favourite thing to do in the winter? Photograph snowy scenery.

What’s your favourite carnival ride? Of the general ones you can think of, probably the ferris wheel, even though I have bittersweet associations with it.

What’s your highest level of education? Some college.

What do you do for work? Sigh I still don't do anything, but I promise you I'm still looking very regularly on job-hunting websites. I know I'm being picky with it, but I have to be; I can't get a fourth job that's only gonna last three fuckin' days, I can't do that shit again, because I genuinely don't think I'll emotionally build up the courage to job hunt again and risk humiliating myself once more. I'll find something, eventually. In the meantime I'm still taking pictures...

How many countries have you been to? I've never left the USA. :/ One day I fucking will, I've got to man, I've got one visit on Earth that I know about and I wanna explore it, I can't only stay on the east coast of this crappy country my whole life.

What’s on your top five to travel to next list? It depends. I feel like my honeymoon is going to be my first real travel destination, which would be amazing if it could be somewhere in Alaska to see the Northern Lights well or Venice, Italy. Germany is a goal one day, but my #1 goal overall is South Africa one day to visit the Kalahari Meerkat Project. I'd also love to visit Ireland.

Do you like board games? I don't really, but I can enjoy them with other people every now and again.

Card games? I've found that I enjoy the sorts like Magic: The Gathering.

Are you afraid of cats? No, not at all.

Have you ever punched someone? No.

Apples or bananas? Apples.

Punk or metal? Metal, but like the last question, I enjoy both.

What’s your favorite flavor of soda, pop, or whatever else you call it? Usually strawberry.

What level of brightness do you usually keep your phone at? So during the day I keep it between 60-70%, I kinda just click that general area, but during the night, I turn it all the way to 0% so I don't burn my eyes out if I check the time during the night.

What time do you usually have dinner? It's usually somewhere 'round 5:30-6:00.

Do you need glasses to read or drive or need them all the time? I wear them all the time, except for obviously when I sleep.

What’s the best amusement park you’ve ever visited? I'm sure it's Disney World, I went as a very young kid, but my memories of it are faint. I know I had a blast, though.

Have you ever had a romantic fling? No, flings are not for me.

Are you a very forgetful person? Yes, my memory (particularly short-term) is just pure appalling for a 27-year-old, like I struggle SO BADLY to internalize information, whether it's important or not.

Are you in love? For sure.

Dream job? Successful wildlife/landscape/general nature photographer.

Are you an affectionate person? Yes, extremely.

You’re traveling the entire world but you can only take one person with you. Who do you take? I'd have to see what Girt thinks about this; I'd want him, but he's a major homebody and actually doesn't really like traveling, so the WHOLE world? I'm sure he'd get tired of it pretty fast. If he didn't want to come, I'd be very apprehensive about separating from him for so long anyway, but for the sake of the question I'd go with Mom, she'd fuckin love it.

[tomhollandisabae]

arcadia - simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

masterlist

fandom; call of duty

summary; maybe helping emotinally ghost isn't the best idea. harsh words are being said, feelings are hurt and after an eventfull night your lives make an 180 turn

warnings; angst, mature language, mature themes, mentions of trauma, heavy smut [18+/ MINORS D.N.I.] / unedited

words; 4.1k

a/n; it's actually friends to enemies... i uploaded again because for some reason tumblr is messing w the hastags... and my nerves!!!

enjoy❤️

Since the first day you joined task force 141, you had been obsessed with Ghost.

Behind his scary mask, you imagined a man that was hurting. You could read his eyes like an open book, understanding when he was in pain –physically and mentally- when he was sad, angry and many other emotions.

It wasn’t like you were sorry for him, but sad by everything he had been through. Of course you weren’t aware about his childhood trauma, but everyone had experienced something bad in their lives that made them join the army, well... most of them. Apart from you...

You were coming from a wealthy background, being raised as a princess, having the world at your feet, a happy family and a happy life. And that was why Ghost didn’t like you.

Not one bit.

He was thinking very low of you, believing that a person like you would never understand everything that he had been through. He basically loathed you because you were happy, the people you loved most were all alive and you didn’t have to keep a blank face while hiding behind a mask, feeling like a coward.

As a matter of fact that you were a medic and didn’t have to be on the field, you were only seeing Ghost while he was in base.

You were always smiling warmly at him, trying to cheer him up –maybe even make him crack a smile too –yet you never succeeded. He was being grumpy all the time, ignoring you all the time. When you would sit next to him at lunch, he would silently eat his food not even paying attention to what you were saying and then get up and leave. When you would join him in training, he would pretend that you weren’t even there. When you would approach him for a small talk in the hallway, he would pass you by. When he would get hurt and you would have to treat him, he would keep his face straight, never look at you and leave as soon you were done, not even saying a small thank you.

But you wouldn’t let that get to you. You would try every day, every hour and every second. You wanted to make that man see the happiness in life, that no matter what happened to him in the past, he would be able to start over.

It was no lie that with time passing by, you fell for the big scary grumpy man that would never spare you a single glance. But you kept trying, until one day...

Everyone had returned from a mission and some of the men were at the med bay getting treated. However, you never saw Ghost coming in... you felt relieved knowing that he didn’t get hurt, but you still wanted to see him for you missed him.

“y/n, will you go check on Ghost in his room. Some said that he got hurt, but never came in” a nurse informed you and you felt you heart dropping.

As you made your way towards his room, many thoughts surrounded your head. How badly hurt was he? Why wouldn’t he come at the med bay? Was he so weak that he couldn’t walk anymore? Your heartbeat picked up at these thoughts and you found yourself sprinting to his room.

When you finally reached your destination, you knocked at his door, hoping for an answer, yet nothing, so you knocked again and again and again until you heard him groan from the other side, finally opening his door.

“are you okay?” was the first thing that you said while scanning his body for any injuries.

“i’m good. I took care of everything” he replied with a cold voice.

“why didn’t you come to me?” you tilted your head in question.

“i’m fine” he avoided your question and tried to close the door, but you blocked it with your hand.

“no you’re not ghost! What is wrong with you? do you ever think about you and the risk you’re putting yourself through?” you pointed your finger at him.

“even if i did, that's none of your business. So stop being so fucking annoying and leave me the hell alone.” he raised his voice and you gasped by that.

“sim--” you tried to say but he cut you off.

“don’t you fucking say my name. You're nothing but a filthy rich little girl that is used on having everything she fucking wants and now that she can’t have that anymore she’s being a pain in the arse.” his words took you aback, breaking your heart.

“you don’t mean that...” you let out a weak voice.

“believe what you want” and with that he closed the door loudly.

Tears started running down your face and you ran towards your room, avoiding everyone in your way. When you entered the place that you could found some kind of comfort you fall onto your bed and cried your heart out.

You never believed that he would ever treat you like that. You thought that would manage to get on his good side as the time was passing by, but obviously that never happened and never will.

His words resulted in you not leaving your room for the next week, until one day after a successful mission when everyone had decided to go out for drinks.

You made a huge effort to get ready and follow the others at the bar.

When you reached there you isolated yourself at the far end of the room, away from everyone’s eyes, while you started getting yourself drunk.

You were on your fifth –or something –beer, when someone caught your hand, preventing you from attaching your lips on the cold bottle, but when you turned your face to see whoever was that that was holding your wrist, you came face to face with those sweet, but also cold eyes that you had fallen for. Ghost...

“you’ve drunk enough” he exclaimed.

“hmm how’d you know? Have you been watching me big guy?” you smiled lazily at him, feeling a weird confidence overtaking you.

“i’m taking you to base” he said.

“nooooo I wanna drink more” you let out a whine.

he didn’t say anything back, just tighten the grip on your wrist while he literally dragged you out of the bar.

On your way back to base, you kept singing and singing while following Ghost carefully.

“my body is a map of L.A and my heart is like paper, I hate ya...” you swung from side to side as your eyes were travelling all around the street.

“i’m not from the land of the palms, so I know I can’t stay here” you wiggled your hand out of his grip and he turned to look at you stand.

“i’m not native, but my curves, san gabriel all day” you grabbed his hands, intertwining your fingers.

“my lips like the fire licks the bay, if you think that you know yourself, you can come over” he tensed.

“lay your hands on me like you’re a land rover” you rested your head on his shoulder.

“in arcadia...” he took in a sharp breath.

“arcadia...” you placed your other hand on his forearm softly.

“all roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries” he felt as if he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“that get the blood flowin’ straight to the heart of me...” you hummed as you stroked softly his hand.

You felt a warm feeling overflowing within you as you were so close to him, so close to the man that you so very much loved with your whole heart.

The man that had broken your heart...

You unfocused for the rest of the walk, letting him guide to through the dark of the night.

At last you reached your room, without you even realising. You only felt Ghost placing you down on your soft mattress as he took of your shoes and stand back up.

You raised your head looking him straight in the eyes with tears falling down on your cheeks.

“stay...” you let out a low whimper while holding his hand.

He stood like a statue, not knowing how to react.

“i can’t--” you cut him off.

“why do you hate me?” you sobbed.

Again, he didn’t say anything.

“i won’t apologise for the life I had for I wasn’t the one that chose it, but with all my happiness and wiliness I wanted to make you feel better, I wanted to make you see that there’s still life out there for you, because... I care about you.” you sniffled.

“i never meant to annoy you, never meant to make you feel bad, I just wanted to brighten your day.” you got up, still holding his hand.

“i’m sorry if i made you feel bad about yourself, I'm sorry for everyth--” he placed his other hand on your mouth.

“no one cares about me” his voice was barely heard.

You couldn’t reply though, as his hand was preventing you from talking.

However, what he did next made your eyes widen as he lifted his mask so that his soft pink lips were revealed. The hand on your mouth travelled south, placing itself softly on your waist, while his other hand intertwined with yours. He leaned down, lips hovering above yours, his breath falling soundly against your mouth.

You squished his hand in reassurance and finally his lips connected with yours. His lips were warm and soft almost silken, and pillowy against your own. Your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Now, he had brought both hands on your waist, pulling you closer resulting in your bodies to be pressed together heatedly, breathing heavily as your lips pressed against each other. You could taste your shared breath, while feeling the thud of your combined heartbeat.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as he lowered his head, disconnected his lips from yours, guiding them towards your jaw, peppering kisses across it and the lower on you neck placing a light kiss on your pulse point as he took in your sweet aroma. The smell of his own perfume, of the soft scent, was dizzying, butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“Ghost...” you whimper, tears now dried.

He lifted his head looking at you. Once again, he brought his lips again on yours, this time in a more demanding kiss. His hands started fumbling to take off your clothes, starting with your shirt as you lifted your hands up to help pull it off of you, while your other clothes followed suit, as you stood now completely naked in front of him.

The room was dark, so you both couldn’t see much. Ghost finally, picks you up and throws you on the bed as he eyed you for a long moment, searching and looking at your body, before the tension left his own. He tried to take in as much as he could with the help of the moonlight that was making its way through the curtains. He took in your unscarred body, the way your chest was moving up and down as you tried to regain your breath, your beautiful breasts with your erected nipples that were awaiting for him to feel his tender touch, his gentle fingers, his warm lips around them. Then his eyes darted onto your waist and he couldn’t help but imagine his hands grabbing on the soft flesh, squishing your skin, while pleasing you the best he could. Then he moved on your hips and the area he craved more as he felt his feet giving up from under him as he kneeled down, placing his big hands on both your thighs parting them without taking his eyes from your pussy, noticing the way it was glistening with your wetness. He looked up at you, your soft eyes locking with his.

His hands travelled across your stomach, reaching your breasts, cropping them softly and then it was as something snapped in him. He stood up taking of his shirt and climbed on top of you, bringing you in the middle of your bed as your legs rested on either side of him. His breath hitting against your lips, one hand lowering itself on your soft body, while the other stayed on the side of your head, supporting himself.

“Ghost...” you cried out.

Now his hand was only inches away from the warm core, caressing it with a finger –or was it two fingers? -two, perhaps even three, were now travelling down the gulley and any moment, any millisecond, you would have to plead –this was what you had wanted him to want to do since the day you first met him –and you were caught between excitement and panic, and it –the tongue –you felt as if you were swallowing it and you didn’t mind it anymore, because he had begun to moan softly –he couldn’t very well say anything with his tongue in your mouth –streak the hand had leaded back up to the rib cage, no longer on the side but going up the front, inland. Slither went the tongue, but the entire terrain of your torso to explore and not just the sides –oh God, it was not just at the border where the flesh of the breast joins the pectoral sheath of the chest –no, the hand was cupping your entire right –Now! You must plead, not able to take any more of his teasing, and talk to him like a dog –and oh God, what were you supposed to do now –inasmuch as it, his hand, was at this instant passing over your entire right breast and you could feel the pressure –light pressure, but pressure –Now! The ‘please, Ghost –but it was as if the cord between your will and your central nervous system had been cut.

“y/n, do you want me?” he finally spoke as he pulled away from yours lips, but you still couldn’t matter a word, his touch was too much.

He took notice of this, the hand that was in your core swirled around your wetness.

“you do want me” he answered himself.

He smiled, a smile of genuine delight, never seen in the last months, made the moment even more precious. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“oh God, yes, I do want you” you cried out, something awakening in you as you kissed his sleek muscular chest, then sliding your hand downward outside his trousers encountered a leaning tower of pressure “and I could say the same ‘bout you” you whispered in his ear.

His head fell limp in the crook of your neck, your hands finally finding their home around his neck.

He pulled away abruptly, trembling, breathing like a drowning man, and his hands went to unclasp her hands from his neck.

“i can’t” he said in a anguished tone.

You were deaf to all reason, your small face blind with aroused need, the slender naked body on flames.

“i love you” you cried, fingers touching where his hair is hidden by his black mask, and it was not the first time that you had known, but the first time you had said it, and all miracle of your understanding it was in your shivering voice.

Ghost didn’t say anything, just made a wild, smothered sound, staring down into your face as you raised your limp head to meet his hard mouth, your lips filled with a sensuality which turned you both to fire.

You wanted to tell him that you understood him, in a way that you'd never understood anyone before. Because you were with him, in this moment. It wasn’t even like being colleagues or work partners –even friends, it was much closer than that, much deeper. You'd torn down all the barriers and put your soul into his hands.

“i love you” you told him again.

his lips slightly brushed against your cheek before he stood up once again.

You broke into cold sweat thinking that he would leave you, that all this was too much for him, that you’d overstepped his space... his feelings, but he didn’t leave.

You watched him as he took of the rest of his clothes, joining you on the bed again, now him being completely naked too. You gasped at the feeling of his warm cock head against your swollen clit. He had worked you up so much that you were on the verge of a break down –but no, you couldn’t beg, plead for your realise –too scared that he would up and leave you for good.

But you’ve had enough... so you took matters into your own hands and you flipped him around, the look on his face not going unnoticed by you.

You placed your body between his legs, giving yourself access to what you needed and he exhaled harshly.

“y/n, what are y--”

Your lips flowed over the wide crown. He reached for the white mattress underneath him, his hands curling around them with white-knuckled force. You held him with both hands and mouthed the plush head, sucking gently. The softness of his skin and his uniquely appealing scent made you moana round him. You felt the vibration ripple through his entire body and heard a rough sound rumble in his chest.

“lick it” he touched your cheeks.

Aroused by the command, you fluttered your tongue across the underside and shivered with delight when he rewarded you with a hot burst of pre-cum. Fisting the root of him with one hand, you hollowed your cheeks and drew rhythmically, hoping for more.

You wanted to drive him crazy.

He made a sound filled with the sweetest agony;

“God, y/n... your mouth. Keep sucking. Like that... hard and deep.”

You were so turned on by his pleasure you squirmed. His hands pushed into your bound hair, pulling and tugging at the roots. You loved how he starred out with tenderness, then grew rougher as the lust he felt for you overwhelmed his control.

The soft bite of pain made you hungrier, greedier. your head bobbed as you pleasured him, jacking him with one hand while you sucked and stroked the crest with your mouth. Heavy veins coursed the length of his cock, and you slid the flat of your tongue along them, tilting your head to find and caress each one.

“stop” he let out a heavy voice after a while.

You pulled away from his cock, looking at him anxiously.

“come here” he instructed and you climbed on top of him.

He didn’t waste on second as he collided his lips with yours turning you both around as you were now underneath him. His mouth departed from your own, making its way along your neck, your collarbones, and he was cupping your breasts, kneading them with soft, rhythmic squeezes.

“ghost--” he cut you off.

“shh” he sucks on your lower lip, his fingers rolling and tugging your tender nipples.

His mouth surrounded the tip of your breast, the wash of heat bringing a mist of perspiration to your skin.

One of his hands pushed between your legs. They fell open shamelessly, your body so aroused you were flushed and almost feverish. His other hand continued to plump your breasts, making them heavy and unbearably sensitive.

“you’re so wet for me” he murmured, his gaze sliding down your body to where he was parting you with his fingers.

“you’re beautiful here too. Plush and pink. So soft.” he said and you whimpered.

He lowered his head between your parted legs, joining his hand. His tongue made contact with your heat drawing provocative laps against your flesh. Your hands fisted in the sheet, your chest heaving as he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, he nudged the hypersensitive knot of nerves, as your hips were moving restlessly into the devious torment, your whole tightening with the clawing need to cum.

The light teasing flutters were driving you insane, giving you just enough to make you wtiyhe but not enough to get you off.

“ghost, please...” you finally cried out, pleading for your realise.

“not yet.”

He tortured you, coaxing your body to the brink of orgasm, and then letting you slide back down. Over and over. Until sweat misted your skin and your heart felt like it would burst. His tongue was tireless and diabolical, cleverly focusing on your clit until a single stroke would set you off, then moving lower to thrust into you. the soft, shallow plunges were maddening, the flickering against the nerve-laden tissues making you desperate enough to beg shamelessly.

“please Ghost... let me cum... I need to cum, please.” you begged.

“shh, angel... I'll take care of you.”

He finished you with a tenderness that made the orgasm roll through you like a crashing wave, building and swelling and spreading through you in a warm rush of pleasure.

He threaded his fingers with yours when he came over you again, restraining your arms. The head of his cock aligned with the slick entrance of your body and he pushed inexorably into you. You moaned, shifting to accommodate the heavy surge if his penis.

Ghost's breath gusted hard and humid against your throat, his big frame trembling as he slid carefully inside you.

“you're so soft and warm. Fuck.” he breathed out.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, welcoming him deeper. Then his thumb was on your clit, rubbing in circles that had your hips churning.

“yes!” you moaned, raking your nails down his back. He wasn’t icy anymore. He was on fire.

“fuck me, Ghost. Fuck me hard.” you moaned.

Y/n...” his mouth covered yours. He fisted your hair, holding you still as he lunged again and again, pounding hard and deep.

“fucking hell...” he groaned into your neck.

The rhythmic slap of his heavy balls against the curve of your buttocks and the harshness of his possessive litany drove you insane with lust. You felt yourself quickening with every twinge of pain, felt your sex tightening with your growing arousal.

With a long, guttural groan he started coming, his flexing body quaking as he emptied himself inside you.

You held him as he climaxed, stroking his back, pressing kisses along his shoulder.

“hold on.” he said roughly, pushing his hands beneath you and flattening your breasts against him.

Ghost pulled you up, the sat down with you straddling his hip. You were slick from his orgasm, making it easy for him to push back inside you.

His hands brushed the hair away from your face, then wiped your tears of relief.

“i’m always hard for you, always hot for you. I'm always half-crazy with wanting you. If anything could change that, I would’ve done it before we got this far. Understand?” he confessed.

“yes.” your hands wrapped around his wrists.

“now, show me that you still want me after that.” his face was flushed and damp, his eyes dark and turbulent “i need to know that losing control doesn’t mean I've lost you.”

You pulled his palms from your face and urged them down on your breasts. When he cupped them, you splayed your hands on his shoulders and started riding him. You kept lifting up your body and then falling back down over and over again while he kept on squeezing your breasts.

“ghost...”

“simon.” your eyes locked with his “call me simon.” he breathed out, lips parted, breathing heavily as he started pistoning his hips against yours making throw your head backwards.

“fuck, simon...” you cried out as you felt your silk walls flattering around him.

“come on, angel, cum for me. Show me how good I'm making you feel.” that did it for you as you through yourself backwards, hands clasping on his hips as you tried closing your legs due to the extent pleasure, but he made sure to keep them open, as he came inside you once again.

“fuck...” you exhaled as you slumped against his torso, legs still trembling.

He wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close, stroking your back softly, as he tried to show you with his actions what he couldn’t express with words... I love you.

[itsallyscorner]

Teaming Up with Sam and Bucky ft Zemo

Pairing: FEM!Reader; Bucky Barnes x reader, Sam Wilson x reader; platonic(?), let’s throw in some Zemo x reader

Summary: What it would be like to team up with our favorite duo. Takes place during TFATWS.

Warnings: none, TFATWS SPOILERS. Lowkey a mess :D

A/n: Ever since TFATWS came out I’ve been reminded of how much I love Bucky and Sam. Also I have a new found love for Zemo. I’ve just been so obsessed with this series and I’ve been reading so many fics about it, so I decided to finally write my own :) Enjoy my loves❤️

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You’re basically working with a bunch of children.

The children mostly being Sam and Bucky, though Zemo does have his moments once he joins you three.

You’ve known dumb and dumber for a few years now, being part of the Avengers, you’ve worked with Sam on multiple missions. The friendship blooming somewhere in between.

You were also close friends with Steve; when he first came out the ice, you were assigned to help him adjust to the modern world by Fury. He would tell you a bunch of stories of him and Bucky running into trouble or Bucky always saving his ass whenever he was getting beaten up.

Eventually, you finally got to meet Bucky, though he wasn’t Bucky, he was the Winter Soldier. Your introduction to each other was quite memorable to say the least.

He choked you with that metal arm of his and for a split second you swore you might’ve found it attractive—till he threw your body against a car.

You sided with Cap during the accords and helped him protect Bucky. When that whole mess was over, Steve asked you to stay with Bucky in Wakanda to make sure he would be safe.

You were the first person to have some kind of bond with Bucky. Before and after he was freed from Hydra’s hold on him, you were always someone he knew he could trust.

When Steve told you what he was going to do while retuning the stones he told you to watch over them.

“Promise me you’ll keep an eye on Buck and Sam?” He asked you, sitting on the edge of your bed. He had snuck into your room late at night, knowing you were wide awake.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, a lazy smile on your lips, “They don’t need me, I’m sure they’re capable of surviving on their own.” Steve breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, “You’d be surprised.”

“But seriously, (y/n), they need you. You know how they get when they’re together. You’re the only person in the world who knows how to deal with the both of them at the same time.” Steve reasons, his baby blues sparkling in the darkness of the guest room of Tony’s lake house.

“Make sure they’re not on the verge of killing each other or running into too much trouble?” You tiredly nod, sleep slowly consuming your body. “I promise, they’re gonna be alright, Steve.”

Sometimes you found yourself looking up at the sky, cursing at it—or Steve—for leaving you with two of the most childish and stubborn men you’ve ever known in your life.

You were like the mother of the group; breaking up fights, making sure they skipped no meals, patching up their boo-boos, etc.

“Will you stop staring at me?” Sam snapped, tossing his goggles onto the seat beside him to glare at Bucky.

“I’m not staring at you.” Bucky remarked from across Sam. His flesh and metal arm crossing with each other as he stared at Sam challengingly.

“Yes, you are. Your eyes are connecting with mine. You’re literally staring at me right now!” Sam pointed out, to which Bucky rolled his eyes at.

“Because I’m talking to you, genius. I wasn’t staring at you.” Bucky quipped.

“Yes you were!”

“No I wasn’t!”

This continued till they were sick of bickering with each other, finally yelling out your name for help.

The arguments were straight up petty. Bucky wouldn’t admit it, but he was the pettiest.

Exhibit 1: “LoOKiNG StrONg jOHn!”

Like seriously? Bucky’s the pettiest bitch, nobody can tell me otherwise.

You and Sam would definitely find it amusing how Bucky doesn’t trust Redwing.

Obviously, you all despise John Walker. Just the thought of him left a bad taste in your mouth.

He was like a fly that you all couldn’t get rid of. But because you were all painfully patient people—mostly you and Sam—you had to deal with his bullshit despite the way he annoyed you all.

Totally loosing your shit when Bucky helps Zemo break himself out of prison.

“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” You groaned, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose together.

Bucky looks at you with feign innocence; his mouth agape and puppy eyes. “I—didn’t do...anything(?).”

“You helped Zemo break out of prison didn’t you?” You crossed your arms at him, hip jutting out. As if on cue, Sokovian sugar daddy walks into the abandoned garage you were all in.

Before you can explode on him, Bucky tried to calm you down, “Wait, I technically didn’t do anything though! It was his plan!”

Zemo definitely lives up to being the ✨Sokovian Sugar Daddy✨ of your dysfunctional group.

I think you’d all be surprised at how rich he was. The amount of connections he had wasn’t that big of a shocker.

No like seriously, homie was pulling all sorts of shit out his ass; cars, private planes, houses in different countries, etc.

You all had a love hate relationship with Zemo. On days when he was actually helpful, you all got a long. On the days when things got horribly messy, Zemo couldn’t even let a word out since Sam would tell him to “shut up”.

Though that still doesn’t excuse the fact that he got the Avengers to spilt up and go against each other.

When you guys are all hiding out in one of Zemo’s apartments or homes, you would probably cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner for everyone.

They actually loved it when you cooked because it made the atmosphere feel a bit homey and calm compared to the current situation you were all in.

You were the person they can all go to. You were easy to talk to, making it easier for them to open up to you.

You always checked in on them mentally and physically. For example, you knew Sam felt guilty about giving up the shield, but Bucky never made him forget about his choice. You were there to reassure him that he thought he was doing the right thing and didn’t know the hidden agenda of the government.

You were like their on the go therapist, babysitter, and partner.

Sometimes Bucky and Sam would even argue for your attention.

“Can you stop hogging (y/n) please? Her ears might fall off from hearing you yap all day.” Bucky said as he gently took your arm and dragged you away from Sam.

“You literally spent the whole day with her yesterday, you’re the one who needs to stop hogging (y/n).” Sam argued, grabbing onto your other arm.

“I didn’t get to spend time with (y/n).” Zemo mentioned from his seat in the kitchen, a glass of whisky in his hand. Bucky simply turned to him and pointed, “NO!”

Honestly what’s a friendship with Bucky and Sam without some harmless flirting. They weren’t gonna lie, you were gorgeous, the most attractive one out of the group.

When you guys had to go undercover at Madripoor, both times with Zemo and Sharon, you had to wear dresses that were a bit revealing. Maybe your chest was a bit shown, but the dress definitely showed off your legs.

“So what do you guys think?” You stopped at the bottom of the stairs of Sharon’s apartment, doing a little spin to show off your outfit.

Both Bucky and Sam’s jaws drop, Zemo probably nodding in approval in the corner.

You can’t forget about the nicknames: maybe doll, sweetheart, or darlin’ from Bucky and the typical Louisiana Cher from Sammy.

While fighting against the Flag Smashers or anyone in general, you guys always had each other’s back.

You could directly be fighting someone, but you’ll naturally have an eye on Sam and Bucky to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them.

It’s a given that you all patch each other up after some fight.

You were all very protective of each other. If there’s one thing Sam and Bucky can agree on, it’s their instinct to protect you.

Like how you kept an eye on them, they also kept their eyes on you. Even though they knew you could hold your own.

“Could you walk?” Sam asked you as you laid on the concrete floor. You were double teamed by a couple of Flag Smashers. Two super soldiers against a normal person, you totally got your ass handed to you.

You pushed yourself up to rest on your elbows, “I’m fine, just got dropped kicked twice, but I’ll be fine.”

Sam smiled at you, “That’s my girl.”

Though the two can be a handful and argue almost every minute, you loved the both of them tremendously. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷 Tags ↴

*If your name has a line through it, it means tumblr won’t let me tag you*

Marvel Cast/ Avengers Tags

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General tags

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[youngbloodslut]

celebrity crush | 2/??

a/n: the first interview is mostly based off of dove cameron and ava max’s interviews with popbuzz

summary: actress! reader somehow manages to bring up her crush on calum hood in every interview

pairing(s): calum hood x reader, platonic! reader x tom holland

warning(s): swearing? slight mentions of kinks

“She’s at it again mate,” Ashton smirked as he carried his laptop over to Calum who was sat on the sofa. He flipped open the computer and hit play on y/n y/l/n’s newest interview.

“C’mon, I don’t wanna-” Calum rubbed his hand over is face and shook his head.

Ashton ignored him and turned up the volume to drown out his protest. “Shhh.. watch.”

“Hey guys, I’m y/n y/l/n and this is the Pop Buzz Tower of Truth.” You spoke as the title popped up on screen.

“I think I’m gonna end up tipping it before I can even get one block out,” You said as you tried to carefully pull of a wooden block. 

“That will never work,” Calum heard a voice from off camera say and recognized it as Tom Holland. He tried not to frown as you laughed and mocked him.

“Y’know what, we’re leaving that one.” You laughed, leaving the original block alone and easily pulling out another block.

“There we go. Okay, what was the last movie or tv show that make you cry? Dead Poets Society. I love Dead Poets Society so much and Tom had never seen it so we watched it after finishing yesterdays interviews.” You placed the block on top of the tower. “And he cried.”

The camera crew laughed as Tom shouted a, “Hey!”

“Tell us one thing about you that we don’t know. Um, this is hard because I’m always saying stuff that I shouldn’t be. Um, I’m an Oxford comma worshiper.” You said, unsure whether or not that’s interesting enough.

“Oxford comma?” A crew member behind the camera questioned.

“Yeah, y’know, the comma that comes before ‘and’ when making a list. I hate that people don’t use it because then I get all confused. Like if I were to write ‘Lizzie, Tom, and Robert are going to the party’ and I don’t add a comma before ‘and’ then it seems like Tom and Robert would be arriving at the party together. But some people who don’t use the Oxford comma could mean that all three people were showing up separately so I never know. Y’know what I mean?”

The camera crew were all silent after her rant and Calum chuckled a bit to himself. He thought it was cute that you were so passionate about the smallest things. Ashton looked over to him as Calum admired you through the screen. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Calum secretly liked how much you talked about him.

“No,” Tom responded honestly

“Ugh,” You rolled your eyes dramatically and looked into the camera, “See, these are the type of guys you got to look out for: Un-grammarly men.” You joked.

“Un-grammarly isn’t a thing.” Tom laughed.

“Well if it were a thing, you’d be one.” You fired back at Tom.

“Anyway, who is your favorite artist right now? Um, probably Wallows, I love them and their music.”

“I was really expecting Calum Hood to be honest.” Tom shouted from across the room.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just forgot about him like that. I love you Calum Hood. I love 5sos.” You held up your hands into a heart shape and moved your hands from side to side. 

You then dropped them and grabbed another block. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that people are actually going to see these interviews. Like, he could literally see this. Dude, I hope he doesn’t.” You paused, “Oh god, do you think he knows about my crush on him?” You had been mentioning him for years and it had never once occurred to you that he could actually see these. 

Calum laughed at the irony of the situation. Here he was watching a video of you saying you hoped he’d never see said video.

“This is humiliating.” You mumbled though you didn’t seem to actually care, “Who was your first celebrity crush? Oh uh, definitely Andrew Garfield. I remember when I first watched the Social Network and I was like obsessed. My friend and I both watched it over 10 times within like two months. And then would continuously make Mark Zuckerberg jokes. But of course, Calum Hood now owns my heart.” You put the block on top of the tower. “I’m actually doing really good, I thought I’d knock it down by now.”

“Describe in detail the worst date you’ve ever been on. Okay so I was like fifteen right, and, well I’m not even sure if this counts as a date. I think he considered it a date so I guess it was but basically we were in the car, he was sixteen so he could drive. We were in the drive through, we had already ordered, and he started feeling around in is pockets and I was like oh god, cause I knew what was about to happen. He was like, ‘oh no i think i lost my wallet’, and I was like its fine I’ll pay. I really didn’t mind. I ended up paying, we got our drinks and without missing a beat, we hadn’t even pulled out of the drive through, he was like’oh here’s my wallet.’ I really didn’t mind paying for my coffee, I wouldn’t mind paying for both of our coffees. But him going out of his way to lie, and then not even lie well, was so irritating.” She placed the block on the top and picked up a new one.

“What is the most useless idem you’ve ever purchased? Um, I bought a seven foot giraffe while I saw drunk once.” The block was added to the top, the tower now taller than you. “He’s in my living room if you wanted to know.”

You grabbed the next block carelessly, immediately regretting it when the tower fell behind you, “Oh shit, well I guess we’re done then.” You said nonchalantly, looking at the blocks on the floor. “I don’t think I’ll be playing this again anytime soon. Love you guys,” You held up your hands, “Love you Calum Hood.” You winked before the outro began to play.

“She must really love you, Cal.” Ashton poked Calum’s cheek annoyingly, “She’s got no shame.”

Calum wouldn’t admit it, but as soon as he got home he looked you up again. He clicked on the same video Ashton showed him and scrolled through the comments. 

y/nscalumhoodkink: MOMOMOMOMOMOM

datemey/n: Queen of Jenga

ashtonfletchersbitch: Y/N LITERALLY IS ME

5esohes: no because y/n y/l/n and calum hood together is my kink

noemptywalletshere: not only does y/n own this fandom, but my ass too

He couldn’t help but laugh at the comments no matter how interesting they were. But something in the back of his head kept yelling at him. She doesn’t acting like you. Shes just likes your music, nothing more. He sighed and clicked out of the video and was about the close his laptop when his cursor handed on a video. 

Y/n Y/l/n foaming at the mouth while talking about Calum Hood for 5 minutes straight.

He clicked on it a little too quickly and waited for it too load. 

“Calum Hood choke me challenge.” You stuck out your tongue and threw up a peace sign with an innocent look plastered on here face. 

“Bro imagine if Calum Hood saw this?” “Oh he would definitely fall for you after this video”

The third thing to pop up was a tweet from 2015 just saying: #marrymecalumhood

“Calum Hood send me hand pics. This is a demand, not a request.”

Calum continued to watch the entire video. Normally, the thirsty comments would have made him uncomfortable, but them coming from you made his heart race and cheeks flush.

God, what was happening to him?

[thessalian]

Thess vs Transphobic Bullshit

JK Rowling continues on with her TERF bullshit.

Basically the situation is this: Graham Norton, a very well-known and reasonably well-respected TV host, happened to say to a journalist that, if people have questions about trans issues, they should talk to trans people, trans experts, and the parents of trans children. (I assume that last is either to help them understand how to be supportive of trans people below the age of majority, or to understand just how shitty a transphobe can make a trans person’s life.) Basically it was, “I’m not the one to ask this stuff; ask the people who are actually affected by it”. Which is a good thing. Owning your privilege feels like it should automatically include handing the people who are being oppressed the microphone and just standing back.

This was her response. Basically she was saying that because Norton said, “Hey, how about hearing from the people who are affected by this instead of getting your takes on things from a cis celebrity”, what he actually meant was, “I am defining what a woman is and am also totally cool with the death threats and rape threats that TERFs get for disagreeing”.

Apparently, this took off with her various followers to the point where Graham Norton got hounded off Twitter. His account is now shut down. General consensus is that he took it down himself. I gather there’s only so much people are willing to take in these sorts of situations.

I got this from Reddit, from a subreddit I follow that talks about what’s going on in this fucking country. The flare used for this post, and posts like it, is “TERF Island”. And honestly, the responses in that self-same forum just highlight the problem that is, unfortunately, a national thing. A small but incredibly vocal minority saying shit like, “I don’t want men using women’s bathrooms no matter how successfully they’ve convinced themselves they’re not men, or how much like women they look”. Which ... we have been over this countless times. A trans woman is not going to get her dick out in front of people in a woman’s bathroom, because there are cubicles. Also consider that trans women may well be straight trans women and have no interest in men that way, so why the hell would they bother? And finally, no one, cis or trans, with sexual assault on their minds is going to stop because of the sign on a fucking door. Not to mention the fact that this obsession with people’s genitals is just creepy and weird. And yet, this country is changing its laws to allow trans women to be banned from women-only spaces “if it seems justified”. Which ... I mean, this country’s government ‘justifies’ the most egregious shit, so...

I am tired of it. I am tired of people being entirely defined by their birth genitalia - and I don’t just mean in terms of their gender expression. I mean that no one talks about trans men sexually assaulting cis men and boys in the men’s room. Because apparently, according to these so-called “feminists”, you can only sexually assault someone if you have a penis. The implication is, in fact, that it’s the penis that makes you want to sexually assault people. Which is just a gross way to look at men. I’m tired of the “men are defined and ruled entirely by their genitalia” bullshit. I mean, we’ve all seen the news stories of women who have committed sexual assault on men, often minors, when in positions of authority (like a teacher to her student, for instance), and it honestly disgusts me that so many people are just like, “Well, I bet he enjoyed it. He’s a guy; what guy wouldn’t?” Sexual assault is a shitty thing and it has nothing to do with what’s in their pants. Sometimes, some people are monumental shitlords. That’s not their genitalia; that’s just them.

So, yeah, JK Rowling does not deserve anyone’s money or praise. Harry Potter wasn’t good enough to absolve her of this. Nothing she has ever written or will ever write could possibly be good enough to absolve her of this.

[neopolpleb]

Curiosity Saved The Cat | a Micheal Myers x GN!Reader

warnings: none! Just a sweet ol thingy bout you and ol mikey meeting

A/N: Aye babies this isn’t my first rodeo on this hellsite but you’ve probably never seen my work unless you have the memory of an elephant and an obsession with Karl Heisenberg!

But! New user new me y’know. So this is my first fic as Neopleb and I hope you stick around and maybe send in some requests!

——————————

His favorite activity was to watch you. Sometimes you didn’t know. Sometimes he knew you knew, but your favorite was when he didn’t know that you knew.

You were used to the iconic Micheal stare. I mean, dating this seven foot hunk of a killer for a few years meant you had to get used to it or it just wouldn’t be pleasant for you. Thankfully, you were able to take his glares and glances but you also learned how to tell them apart.

Of course, theres the stare that fills even the strongest of men with fright as they realize their death is soon nearing when they look into the emotionless gaze that hid the truest form of evil. The Shape.

You’re grateful you’ve never experienced the full force of that gaze. You had seen it be fought off the night you two met. It was replaced with the next stare; curiosity.

The day you two met is a memory you cherish, but of course your logical side always is ringing in the back of your head “HOW THE FUCK DID I SURVIVE EVIL FUCKING PERSONIFIED???” or something along those lines.

The answer was simple, you intrigued him. Micheal had never seen anything like you. He couldn’t understand it. The shape was banging in his skull telling him to kill you right now. Finish the job. But Micheal for once didn’t listen. For once in over many decades, he let his more human side take over and he just left.

Imagine the look on your face when Micheal Myers, who was five seconds away from killing you just up and walks away. You didn’t know how to react. You sat in the corner of your silent bedroom praying to whatever was out there that he wouldn’t change his mind about sparing you.

You didn’t want to provoke him in anyway so you cast logic to the wind and didn’t contact the police. In the weeks following the encounter you thought you had just been a miracle and would never have a run in with the masked fellow again…

Until you started noticing things. Things like, windows being open that you were sure to have closed the night before. Locks suddenly broken no matter how many times you would replace them. You tried your best to calm your thoughts but the obvious answer was basically hitting you in the face. He never let you be. He had been watching you the whole time.

Of course you freaked out, but then came the confusion. Why hadn’t he killed you? You had lived in Haddonfield long enough to hear the stories, and from what you gathered, Micheal didn’t really keep victims. Of course if they ran he’d find them again, but it was usually a quick job. So why are you still here?

That was a question even Micheal couldn’t answer. It felt like everyday was “the day he is definitely going to do it” but it never was. He just watched you. Almost as if you were a science project that he had to observe.

He couldn’t wrap his head around you. To the naked eye you were just a normal person. You moved from the city to live a quiet life, a fresh start, in a small town in Illinois. You kept to yourself. The only person who knew you by name was the usual cashier at the local supermarket. You minded your business. Yet some how you caught the eye of god’s most terrifying creation.

After a few weeks of trying fix the locks, even going as far to super glue a few windows shut, you gave up. They always found themselves open again, you came to the thought that “if he hasn’t killed me yet, why am I to be so worried?” Which on your part isn’t the smartest, but no one ever said you were the sharpest knife in the drawer.

It was a silent night it February. You had fallen asleep on your couch after a long day of studying for your exams. You hadn’t slept in over 20 hours, and you were out cold, so you didn’t hear the creak of the back door opening.

Micheal stalked in, as silent as ever. Hiding in the shadows as he mapped out his plan to finally end you tonight. He headed towards your bedroom, expecting you to be there asleep in bed as you usually were. He stopped as he spotted you passed out on the couch. Half your body was hanging off the side and there was a pencil stuck in your hair.

He stared at you again, the curious gaze returning as his plan slowly faded from his mind. You were an enigma. How did you capture his gaze like this, why did he push everything aside just to watch you. You were just another victim. Another body. Another object to him. Why is his mind seeing you as something more.

The thing that pulled him from his thoughts was your body slamming to the ground after just a bit too much of you came off the couch. He quickly hid in the shadows of the hallway, planning his escape as you tried to get your bearings after your rude awakening.

You rubbed your head, groaning as you slowly stood. You waddled over to the kitchen to get a glass of water before chasing the lingering sleep to your bed. You felt his gaze, you had become more aware of it once you had given up on shutting the monster out. You grabbed a cup from the cupboard and filled it was tap water. The stream filling the glass was the only sound that could be heard throughout the house.

You leaned back against the counter as you sipped the water. Glancing around the room hoping to spot your watcher but you as always, you never could. You sighed shaking off the gaze and setting the cup in the sink before heading towards your bedroom.

You made it halfway towards your hallway before you spotted the silhouette in the shadows. Your brain was yanking at the reigns of your body to run, hide, call someone, ANYTHING. Yet you just… stood there. Not as if you were frozen in fear, but as if you were having a staring contest with your intruder.

You took a deep inhale and let it out in a sigh before you continued your walk to your room. You knew that this could possibly be your final moment, but it was almost 4 am and you were still incredibly tired. So with logic to the wind, you walked past Micheal who kept his gaze on you the entire time.

You couldn’t see his face, but it was contorted in pure confusion- Why weren’t you running? Why weren’t you cowering in fear. He stared in shock as you reached your bedroom door at the end of the hallway.

Your hand grabbed the knob turning it gently, before glancing back at the man who now stood on the opposite side of the hallway, still watching. You opened the door slowly, turning back to face him.

“… Theres uh- Theres leftovers in the fridge. Spaghetti. You can have some if you want, just put the plate in the sink when your done please.” You spoke quietly, before quickly closing the door to your room. Immediately jumping under your covers as if you were a child hiding from the monster in your closet, but you knew even a child wouldn’t be dumb enough to offer a monster DINNER.

You squeezed your eyes shut and cut out the world as you let sleep take over, hoping to awake the next morning.

You did in fact wake up the next morning, your bedroom door was left open, which you let go quickly considering the fact that you were still alive. You slowly crept out to the living room, glancing around to make sure your visitor hadn’t stuck around. You didn’t see anyone, or feel any gaze so you walked to your kitchen feeling more safe.

There was a bowl left on the counter, you furrowed your eyebrows at it. “Dude breaks into my house, eats my food, and I ask him ONE thing and he can’t even do it? Unbelievable.” You fake being dramatic to yourself, as you set the bowl in the sink and begin making yourself breakfast.

You begin cracking eggs into a bowl when you hear the creak of your back door opening. You pause momentarily, before continuing your cooking. A few silent seconds later and you feel the familiar gaze resting on the back of your head.

You continue your cooking and point to the table,

“If you want breakfast sit down and it’ll be done soon” it came out more confident than your offer last night and you hope that you didn’t anger him. Thankfully, you hear a chair being pulled out and you take a glance to see Micheal sitting, his gaze still locked on you.

Sometimes you still wonder why he hadn’t killed you. He doesn’t talk much but in his more talkative moments he joked that he only kept you around for your food. Though in truth sometimes he doesn’t really know the answer. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Hell he didn’t even believe in love period before he started hanging around you. Yet something about you stuck out to him, but he has a lifetime with you to figure it out.

[bibbykins]

Vulnerable in The Dead of Night (M)

I wrote this QUICK, so if it’s bad, I’m so sorry, but I just wanted to get this out ASAP, so I hope you like it! Also, pls feel free to give me your thoughts or ask any questions, I love to answer them!

NOTE: This is part of The Household’s Bunny series, which I recommend you read before this bc otherwise, it may not make sense.

Summary: Taehyung finds himself consumed with self-loathing and crushing loneliness. You find Taehyung standing alone in the kitchen late at night, happy to see him again for the first time in weeks. The usually playful and flirty man is left with his feelings when faced with you in the dead of night.

Genre: Soft Yandere! Taehyung x Chubby! Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+, soft yandere tendencies, obsessive/possessive thoughts, crying, loneliness, self-loathing, abandonment issue, adopted person feeling unworthy of love, kissing, hickeys, cunnilingus, precum, blowjob, swallowing, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, this is a yandere fic so unhealthy relationships are throughout this series

Taehyung felt like he was losing his mind, and maybe he was. What could he be doing wrong? How can you not know how he feels? How can Jimin get his point across better than him? 

Do you not like him?

His pacing in the kitchen ceased at this thought. 

No.

Surely, no. You liked him, right? You told him you did.

Although, that was before he and Namjoon had basically disappeared from your life these last two weeks. Is he that replaceable? 

The nagging insecurity of his childhood crept up. Flashes of tears, isolation, and craving for love tugged at his mind. He shook his head. He wasn't a 6 year old watching his father leave him. He wasn't a 14 year old in a foster home. He just wasn't that 17 year old in a new home, trying to adapt. That wasn't him anymore. Taehyung was loved now, by many. So why not by you? 

He blew out a shaky breath before finishing his glass of room temperature water. He was still dressed in his suit, having just gotten home from the final session of the blasted weeks-long project that kept him from you. His tie was more suffocating than ever but could not find a reason he deserved to undo it.

Too enraptured in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the soft pad of slippers downstairs or the tiny pants of regaining your breath from the nine flights you just went down in the dead of night, "Tae?" Your breathy voice sliced through the chaos in his mind and he let out a breathy chuckle, thinking he was going insane, hallucinating your voice.

Truly, he felt useless. He felt sub-human. He felt every piece of shit adult who turned his back on him must be justified if this was the best he could do. If a smokescreen of lovability with no love was his peak. If being alone with only hallucinations was the closest he could get to companionship-

He nearly choked on his water when he felt arms wrap tightly around his midsection, "Tae, you're home!" Your voice cleared the cloud of self-loathing and he looked down to see your half manicured nails, most of the polish chipped off. He slowly placed his hands on yours and was relieved to find you weren't a hallucination, "I missed you." He could feel your mouth moving against his suit jacket as you squeezed him a bit harder.

He let his eyes close as he relished in the feeling of you nuzzling into him, missing him. 

Worried when he said nothing, you moved to detach yourself but he held your hands firmly, "Tae?" You questioned only for him to hum lightly.

"I missed you so much, little lamb." His voice was soft, the softest you'd ever heard it as his thumb stroked your palm, "I didn't know you missed me." His voice held a fondness you had never heard from him before. Usually, his tone was light and playful but now, he was almost melancholic.

Did he genuinely feel that way? The panic of one of the men you found yourself falling for each day thinking you didn't like him as much as you did take over and you moved for you both to face each other. Tae merely blinked before you were in front of him, hands holding his face, not searching in his eyes but looking to express something with yours, "Of course I missed you." You pouted, "You all mean the world to me." 

He searched for any sign of a lie. He'd seen it time and time again from people in the entertainment industry, but with you, it was nothing but pure honesty, "Little lamb." He commanded your attention even though he already had it as you let your hands settle on each of his shoulders, "You mean that?" 

"I would never lie to you." You didn't miss a beat before looking at him further, realizing he is not acting like he usually does, "Are you okay?" You asked lightly, eyes traveling over his form, hands working to undo his tie as you've done before when he asked you to help him, "Oh gosh, that must feel so suffocating this late at night." You mumbled and undid two of his top buttons. He grabbed your hands as you worked at the second button, making you look up.

"Do you wanna know how I feel, baby?" He asked, eyes a little darker now as he drank in your form, wearing a mere long shirt that reached the middle of your thighs with no shorts in sight. You nodded and his grip on you tightened but wasn't painful, "Jealous." He rasped and you looked up, confused, "Jealous that you don't cum for me or crave me like you do everyone else." His voice was strained despite neglecting Namjoon's own lack of experience with you.

You blinked, "I mean if you want sex, that's okay." He let go of your hands, one of his hands moving to grip your hip as the other cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, "But you know that sex is just that, I mean, I like closeness and it makes me feel good, so I do it. But I also know that being sexually attracted to me doesn't mean you want me as your partner- oh!" He cut you off by pressing you roughly against the wall, his hand now cradling the back of your head to prevent you from getting hurt.

His gaze burned into you and you averted your eyes but the hand behind your head went to grip your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his own, and what a fierce gaze it was, "Who made you think that?" He snapped and continued when you struggled to respond, "Who convinced you that you're not just as worthy of pleasure as you are intimacy? Love? Companionship?" 

You were dumbstruck. Part of you wanted to ask how long he had because you had a list. You remembered every person who made you feel that way whereas they surely forgot you moments after you either did or didn't succumb to their desires. Instead, your eyes began to water, "Why are you…?" You forced out, blinking back your tears, "I don't...I don't understand." You shook your head.

"I don't want to fuck you so bad just because you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen." Your breath hitched and your mind couldn't properly process his words, "I crave you." He breathed, leaning down, "I've been agonizing over how to come to terms with the fact that I feel so fucking strongly for someone who has no obligation to feel the same." Before you could even respond, he placed his mouth on yours in a bruising kiss.

You responded immediately, trying your best to convey your feelings in this sloppy kiss, tongues intertwined as you needily moaned when his hand wrapped your leg around him, but he didn't grind into you, he just pulled your closer. The kissing lessened in urgency and increased in passion as he gripped you with a near bruising force, "Tae…" You groaned into his mouth and found yourself nearly crying. You held him closer and he squeezed you to him.

"Yes, baby?" He moved to kiss lightly at the corner of your mouth, mouth moving to. kiss at your tears. He didn't need to ask you why you were crying. He knew. He felt it too. He felt the relief that came with being held close, being kissed, and is wanted as much as another wants you.

"Do you mean it?" You asked, crying more now, "You…"

"I feel so strongly for you." He affirmed and you shook your head, having a hard time believing him, "And that's so frightening because you could just leave and I..." He breathed shakily, head tucked into your neck, "I don't know how everyone else is holding it together when I know they feel the same-"

"I do too." You had to say it before you wouldn't, "All of you, I do." You sniffled, "But I can't find a reason why you guys would feel anything for me too." Your voice was breaking and he just crushed you to him further, "And I don't know if they feel that way, and-" You cried further, "I-I need to go to bed, I need to-" You tried to pull away from his crushing embrace to no avail. 

You whined a bit at this. Your mind was scattered, and you didn't know what to do. There was so much going on yet nothing going on at all. You received a confession and so did he and yet, everything felt so complicated. The doubt of anyone wanting to be with you strangled your very being and made you want to stay in your room and never think about it again. Live alone in mediocrity and loneliness.

"Promise me you're not scared." His words were demanding but his tone was pleading, "I...I know it's a lot and I know I never act like this, but just, don't avoid it, don't avoid me." He sniffled and you relaxed, "The fact of the matter is, we feel the same about each other, the rest will come in time." He was regaining his composure and slowly you began to calm down. He was right. It was just you and him. Everyone else is at bay, they will get their time. You don't have to wake everyone up to know their feelings. You have time, "I know Jimin said his piece to you too, and we're not going anywhere, so please, don't go." His voice was stable again as he tucked in the scared and lonely little boy that haunts him sometimes and set his mind straight.

You nodded against him, honest and understanding of his words. You were nervous, sure, but only time would tell. If you run, you break your heart. But if you stay, you could either get your heart broken or get everything you want. It's a risk that you don't know how to calculate, but it's a risk you're willing to take. Maybe Taehyung is right and everyone feels the same about you in a way you could only dream. Just maybe.

He lets you go and you look at him, flawless as ever. His face was minorly red, tears minuscule and long gone by now, "We should go to bed." You murmured as Taehyung reached up to wipe away the stray tears on your cheeks and he nodded. 

He held your hand as he pressed the elevator button, lightly scolding you for taking nine flights of stairs in slippers with no traction, "Wow, you tell me you tell me you like me and now I'm getting chewed out." You giggled, the feeling of someone fussing over your safety was quite refreshing.

He looked at you incredulously, "If you fell or hurt yourself, all hell would break loose." He chided and you hummed.

You broke out into a goofy smile, "You like me." You giggled and the man next to you gave you a side-eyed glare before giving up on containing his own smile.

"Yeah well," He paused for a moment, smiling to himself, "You like me back." He chuckled and you felt your face heat up. 

He squeezed your hand and you watched the floors tick up to your own, "Tae?"

"Yes?" He asked, noticing your voice got quieter, more unsure. 

"Do you have anything to do tomorrow or do you want to stay with me tonight?" You forced out, nervous he would say no. 

Little did you see, he broke out into a cheerful smile and thanked his lucky stars before responding coolly, "I'd be honored to stay with you tonight." 

The elevator dinged just in time and you held his hand all the way to your bedroom before finally standing to face him. You studied his face for the nth time tonight. He was still beautiful each time and the moonlight only further deified his beauty further, "You're all so beautiful." You mused, reaching up to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"And all yours." He breathed.

You scoffed, "Sounds impossible." 

"Start believing, my darling." His voice was as smooth and deep as ever and you looked into his eyes and found an emotion you'd never seen before. 

Maybe you could do this. Maybe Taehyung was right and all 7 of them felt the same. Maybe you were deserving of sex and love.

And quite possibly it was your own resignation of maybe of the whole situation that made you reach up and push his suit jacket off of his shoulders. Confused, he still shrugged off the jacket, letting it fall to the floor. You reached up and began undoing the third button on his shirt. With more of his chest exposed you reached your hands up and feel the exposed skin of his chest softly, "Baby, what are you- fuck!" You cut him off, leaning up to suck onto his neck harshly before licking the spot. Your breath hit his neck, "You have got to be careful or I may not be able to control myself." You merely smiled before licking a stripe along the column of his throat and you could feel the vibration of his groan against your tongue before kissing along his jaw, "I don't want you to think I just confessed to you so I could come up here and-" He cut himself off with a strangled growl as you shifted your leg up for your thigh to brush against his erection.

"I like how cumming feels knowing you're still going to like me the next day." You spoke honestly and Taehyung wanted to find every person who didn't make you feel that way, "Unless you don't want to do anything, which is fine." You nuzzled into his neck, "I just, want to be close to you in more ways than one." 

He pulled back to look at you properly and found no doubt in your eyes. With Jimin, sexual acts had been a show of emotions. Now that you thought about it, even what happened with Yoongi and Jin felt like something different than what you were used to. In each sexual encounter, there was a level of care, making it feel so alien. Even with Jungkook and Hoseok, there was something there that you didn't know, intimacy. And yet, it felt so good.

Nevertheless, he asked, "Are you sure?" You nodded and he smiled, head dipping down to kiss you deeply. You continued your work on the buttons of his shirt while your tongues felt each other. Your hands went to his belt, undoing the Italian leather before you pulled away from his mouth and began kissing down his neck and his hands intertwined with your hair, "Baby, you don't have to make me cum." He breathed and you sucked at his neck to protest.

"I want to feel you in my mouth." You whined, hand reaching into the pants you unbuttoned to grip his dick over his briefs, "Please?" 

He nodded, eyes heavy, unsure how he could ever say no to you in the first place, "On the bed though, I don’t want you to hurt your knees." His voice was soft and you giggled at his wholesome request but nodded anyway.

You sat on the bed as he rid himself of his mostly taken-off clothing. You both tangled into each other as he kissed while he laid over you on your bed. You lightly pushed him to flip over so you were on top of him, legs straddling his hips. His hands glided over your thighs, squishing the skin gleefully as you continued peppering kissing down his chest, pressing your core into his bare erection, making you let out a needy moan, “You’re so hard.” You whispered, mouth sliding down his body.

Before you knew it, you reached his dick and of course, it was pretty. You wrapped your hands around the base and he sucked in a breath through his teeth before you licked at the precum at the tip before taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and he let out the most delicious grunt,” So good to me, my little lamb.” He praised you in a gravelly voice and you felt yourself get wetter as his hands curled into your hair, “Fuck, just like that.” He groaned as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him further. The dark room was filled with sounds of you drooling all over his erection as he praised you and was very vocal with his pleasure. The praise made you moan against his dick in delight, “My little lamb likes to be praised, huh?” He cooed, voice strained and breath heavy as you nodded, never letting his length escape your lips, “So perfect for me, aren’t you?” You hummed in delight as he threw his head back, fingers tensing in your hair as he did his best to not pull it or push your head down. However, determined to please, you guided his hand to push you further, nodding to let him know it was okay. He was gentle as he guided your head, his other hand intertwining with yours as a sweet gesture. You bobbed rhythmically and you could hear his noises becoming less and less controlled, “Fuck, I’m getting close.” He warned and you responded with a strong suck that made his hips lift off the bed, “Where do you want me to cum?” He asked urgently and you answered by looking up at him through your lashes with a look way too innocent for someone about to drink down his cum. It was that look that sent him over the edge and you felt him cum in your mouth. You drank him dry before letting his dick go with a resounding pop.

“Did I do well?” You asked and, his hand still in your hair, pulled you to him as he nodded before planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Perfect, baby, perfect.” He was breathless but still intent on kissing you deeply as he sat up, hands going to your thighs to grip the hem of your shirt, “Can I taste you, little lamb?” He asked and you nodded.

“Please.” You whined as he kissed your throat, going over the hickeys you had from the other me in the house, all of them mostly faded except for the one Jimin gave you. He lifted the shirt, only detaching from marking you to strip you of your clothing. He laid you down as he slipped your panties off, groaning at how you were glistening.

“You this wet for me, sweetheart?” He spoke huskily and you hummed desperately as his finger slid from your clit to your drenched hole slowly, “I really wanted to go slow, but fuck,” His finger slid in with little resistance much to his delight, “You’re just so ready for me, aren’t you?” You nodded, panting as his finger fucked slowly into you and he raised a brow, expecting you to be verbal.

“Yes, yes, I’m ready Sir, please.” You gasped out, fighting the urge to wiggle your hips as you confirmed with the honorific you trusted him enough to give yourself fully.

“Just because you’ve been so sweet to me,” He leaned down, breath fanning over your drenched core, “I won’t make you beg this time.” He kissed your clit, making you twitch before his tongue licked a stripe from your clenching hole to your clit, making you gasp, “You taste so fucking good, no wonder Jin and Yoongi were so smug for days.” He rasped and felt you clench around him further, “Oh?” He chuckled darkly as his tongue flicked your clit, “You like when I talk about the others? You wish they were here watching you squirm around my finger?” You writhed in delight as he slid another finger in, “You wish they were here helping me get you off so pretty, holding you down so you’ll be still like a good girl?” He teased you and it only soaked his fingers and tongue further as he slurped you intently. Taehyung had been waiting what felt like his whole life to have you come apart in his clutch and feel your sweet cum on his tongue.

He tasted you intently, fucking into you a little quicker as he let you squirm around him. He would be lenient and kind this time around, because of both of your desperations and tearful confessions. There was so much to feel and so much to taste, and he just wanted to have you crumble in his clutch. You were well on your way to be his, theirs, and he would be yours in return. He wanted to channel his hunger for you as he moaned into your pussy. You were already getting off by making him cum and now, you were unsure how long you would last if he kept flexing his tongue and running it over your clit as he curled his fingers in your cunt, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that made your back arch off the bed.

He murmured dirty and sweet nothings into your pussy as you clutched the sheets with a death grip, doing your best to not push his head into your core. You wanted him to have total control over your body and pleasure in this moment, “You’re getting close.” He cooed teasingly and you nodded, spurring him to take his fingers out.

You cried out as he chuckled, sucking your juices from the two fingers, “Please, I wanna cum, please, please!” You whimpered, pushing your hips up as he let his fingers go from his mouth.

“Shit, you’re so fucking cute.” He groaned, hands pinning your hips to the bed as you squirmed, “I’ll make you cum, baby, don’t worry.” He kissed at your clit, eliciting a desperate cry, “You just have to be really good for me and cum while I fuck you with my tongue.” He licked at your hole as you nodded eagerly, “Can you be good for me and do that?” His voice was dripping with lust.

“Yes, Sir, I can, I will, please!” You babbled, having been so close to cumming just moments ago.

You calling him Sir made his teasing nature disappear as he slid his tongue into you with a groan on his end and with you nearly screaming as he fucked into you. He moved inside of you as your walls fluttered, slowly clenching more and more as you could feel your high coming. It was when his hand went to rub quick circles onto your clit that you came with a strangled moan.

His tongue fucked you through your high and he only pulled away when your back settled back onto the bed and you were trying to catch your breath. He kissed your stomach before going to put on his briefs as he slid your panties back on. He hovered over you, placing a quick kiss on your mouth as you wrapped your arms around him, humming in bliss, “You’re such a good girl.” You keened at his praise as he placed a kiss on your cheek before rolling over to pull you in his arms, holding you tight.

“Now you get to be smug.”You giggled tiredly, eyes closing as you listened to his heartbeat.  

He chuckled, equally tired as he kissed the crown of your head, “I already am.” He mused, “Goodnight, little lamb.” His voice was soft and sweet as you could only muster another blissful hum.

Now, you were starting to understand what was so different about all of your sexual, or near-sexual, interactions with almost everyone. It was the emotion in it. 

You’ve had people say they liked you, get what they want, and then never see you again. However, the guys, barring Tae and Jimin, hadn’t said they liked you, but they tried to communicate it. They held you close, they stayed to cuddle with you after. There was care in the way they touched your body and it was liberating. It was frightening, the idea of getting used to something that could just go away one day, but nevertheless, you let your consciousness fade, knowing he would be there tomorrow morning.

Tip Jar

[milkytheholy1]

I want a date.

A/N: Howdy! So like everyone I've been obsessed with Wandavision, especially in the last two eps (5, 6). So recently I went back and binged the last few X-Men movies and had to write something for my boy Peter Maximoff, please bear with me this is the first time I've ever written for this character and I'm not that well inversed with the X-Men franchise. I'll most definitely write more of Peter in the future as well as all the TMNT requests that I need to get through. Thanks for your patience though, I promise I'll get through all the requests! Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver x GN Reader Oneshot

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You remembered the first day you had arrived at Xavier's School for the gifted, your eyes tracing the ground as you walked past the large metal gates and up the steps to the wooden doors. Charles immediately greeted you, shaking your hand with a loose smile on his lips. He motioned you to his office where you greeted Hank, who said a quiet "Hello" with a nervous shake of your hand, Charles then proceeded to tell you the basics of how the school worked and dismissed you to further talk with Hank.

You were shadowing a girl named Jean that week, from what Charles had told you about her she seemed to be the very image of kindness. She smiled as you left the professors office, handing you some heavy books that weighed you down too quickly for the first day. "You're gonna love it here, everyone's really nice and classes are super fun." she beamed, leading you to your first class together. Class had gone okay for the most part, Jean would often send you curt smiles from the other side of the room when the teacher had their back turned to you.

Once the obnoxious ring of the bell flooded your ears, you steadily packed away your stuff and strolled up to Jean's desk. "So how was your first lesson? Not too hard I hope." you laughed, your head gently shaking 'no'.

"It wasn't so bad, just weird."

"I get it," she shrugged, now standing beside another wooden door; her hand itching to turn the handle. "Having to move from a normal public school to...this, it's jarring. But I promise you'll get used to it soon." she sent you a reassuring smile, then quickly slipped into the room. You watched from the doorway as she walked up to what you presumed were her friends, stood in a circle near the window laughing to themselves. She turned her head back to you, silently beckoning you to follow her, with swift steps you soon followed behind her.

"Hey, babe." a boy with a letterman jacket wrapped an arm around Jean's shoulder, his glass-covered eyes quickly turning to you. You caved in slightly at the harsh gaze, not being able to see his eyes worried you. What if he's glaring at me? How am I meant to tell if he hates me already? Jean traced her boyfriend's gaze, laughing when it landed on you. Pulling away from his embrace, she walked back over to you and wrapped an arm around you "Everyone this is (Y/N), they're new."

You were met with a warm welcome, the whole group giving you short waves and cosy smiles. A girl in a bright yellow jacket walked up to you, a pink bubble slipping past her lips, "Hi! I'm Jubilee" you greeted her with a timid handshake "Hi, I'm (Y/N) but I guess Jean already said that huh?" Jubilee giggled at your awkwardness, she took your hand and pulled you to the vintage couch situated in the middle of the room. The others soon took to circling around you both when she began asking you questions.

"So how are you finding it so far?"

"It's okay, everyone seems really nice and the house looks pretty cool."

From outside the room, you heard a loud squeal quickly followed by "PETER!". In a matter of seconds a boy with silver hair and a jacket to match leaned against the old, wooden doorframe, his head tilted so he was still facing the hall. Jean's boyfriend, Scott as you now learned, stood from his seat on the singular chair and coughed instantly grabbing the boy in silver's attention. Before a word was spoken, the boy had soon appeared in Scott's chair moments after he had just stood away from it, Scott grumbled under his breath "Peter."

"Scott." he grinned back, you could already tell this guy was an asshole. Jean released a huff, crossing her arms at the two boys caught in a staring competition "Are we really going to be doing this right now?" both boys responded with a "No" but continued to glare at each other. Jubliee groaned, turning her attention away from the two morons and back onto you "So as I was saying," she continued "What was it like when you first got your powers?" Your gaze flickered away from the boys and onto Jubilee's cheery face, "Oh well, it happened when I went camping with some friends."

At the sound of a new voice amongst the group, Peter's attention snapped away from Scott's dumb face and sought out where the new voice was coming from. His eyes quickly found your form, sat up nervously on the couch. To say the boy was known as living in the fast lane he couldn't help but feel like he was watching you in slow motion, the way the open window's light flawlessly hit you and the way your hair would fall and perfectly frame your face. He was in complete awe of you.

A gust of wind blew past you, feeling a dip in the couch next to you. Reluctantly you turn and find Peter sat there smiling at you, his arm lying limply against the back of the chair "Hey." he breathed out. You quickly looked back to Jubilee who only glared at the boy, turning back you cautiously smiled back at him "Hey?"

"The names Peter, and who might you be?" he flirted, his head flicking slightly to get the silver strands away from his face. Your eyes roamed his features, "Y/n," you whispered back. You began squinting causing Peter to eye you cautiously "Hm your face seems pretty familiar," you questioned, your fingers softly rubbing your chin in thought. Peter seemed to sit up at this, his shoulders went slack again, another confident grin adorning his face "Oh yeah well," he rolled his shoulders slightly, you noted the puff in his chest when he spoke, " I am one of the X-Men."

"No, that's not it" you rasped, Peter's eyes widened his chest collapsing at your words. "Wha-" he breathed out, clearly confused by your immediate denial. Your body jolted the moment you recognised where you had seen him before, pointing an accusing finger at him you started laughing "Oh! Weren't you the guy that ran into a trash can in that Walmart parking lot the other week? Got covered in garbage and stuff, didn't they have to hoose you off or something?"

"NO!" Peter yelled, jumping up from his seat; no longer feeling relaxed and in control. Scott stepped forward from the group, a teasing smirk on his lips "Peter," he started, his arms crossed over his chest "Is that true?" Peter's gaze flickered from his group of friends to the stranger on the couch "Wha- No! Why would that be true? That's not at all that happened, AT ALL." he emphasised. His feet began to tap rapidly on the old oak wood, his fingers twitching slightly. With little to no words, the speedster dashed out of the room to God knows where leaving the small group of friends chuckling to themselves.

"Welcome to the club (Y/N)!" Scott held out his hand to you, taking it, he pulled you up to stand with everyone else. Sending them a confused glance you began to question the decision "Are-are you sure?"

"Ov course, anyvne who can make Peter blush iz apart ov z group." Kurt bellowed out, his tail slowly wrapping around his leg as he laughed uncontrollably. A proud smile made its way onto your face at the thought of already making what seemed to be the school flirt blush, and on your first day at that!

A few days had passed since you had first met the group of people you now call your friends, since your last encounter with Peter he had made sure to stay quiet around you. Walking out of your door, your hand pulling the doorknob behind you, you felt the hard impact of a chest against your side. Tilting your head your (e/c) gaze met brown, nervously smiling you politely greeted Peter "Oh erm hey Peter, sorry I didn't see you there...right-right outside my...door." you mumbled out, gaze dropping to the floor. Peter smirked at your flustered state still got it he thought, you see ever since your little encounter the other day Peter felt foolish for getting flustered so easily.

Since that day he made it his life's mission to see you blush anytime he was around, and so far it was starting out in his favour. He hadn't backed away from you at all, instead, he placed his hand beside your head effectively cutting off your right exit. "So what's a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this?" he mused, his eyes gleaming with mischief. You swallowed, the grip on your books tightening as you continued to stare into his eyes. Hypnotised.

"I'm a mutant." you bluntly replied, surprising him with your candid tone. You could see him falter for a few seconds, your mind internally cackling, he composed himself taking his arm away from your head. The mood that he had tried to set up so quickly broken by the comment. Coughing into his enclosed fist, he turned to leave "Um, Yeah me too what a coincidence. So hey, maybe we can go and see that-"

"PETER! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE IT'S TIME FOR A MISSION!" Scott yelled from the other end of the corridor, Peter nodded at him, swiftly turning back to you he gave you a lopsided grin "See you when I get back?"

"You're bound to," you replied, pushing away from him and continuing on with your day. Peter watched as your form grew distant from him, only turning the opposite way when he saw you take a right down the hall. You felt a breeze pass by you, ruffling the papers in your hand, you smile knowingly ahead of you.

~ A week later ~

You were sat outside near the lake, enjoying the shade under the trees. You flipped another page in your book, stopping to write down some notes then proceeding onto the next page. Hank had requested that all students in his class read through a human history book and write down anything that they believed was caused by mutants; something about life lessons was his reasoning, although you didn't see it. Not taking your eyes away from the book sat neatly in your lap, your hand reached out for the drink you had brought out with you. Making grabby hands into the air, you finally looked around for your missing drink. Groaning out loud, you released a sigh, your shoulders slumping against the rough bark of the tree "Peter! I know it's you!" you moaned.

A few seconds later and there he stood, your drink in his hand, googles delicately placed over his eyes. "Thirsty?" he asked, offering you the beverage in his hand. You stood up to retrieve it, getting so close only for him to pull it away from your fingers "Not so fast," he beamed. You forced yourself not to smile at his antics, unphased by them at this point, keeping up with the 'annoyed' act you frowned up at him. "And what is it this time? Reruns of Knight Rider? Want to see who ate your twinkies?"

This had been a common occurrence when it came to Peter, he'd always take your stuff within a second of being in the room. He'd prompt you into taking it easy as pie but swiftly pull away last moment demanding the use of your powers for a juvenile task. Your mutant ability allowed you to harness the power of technology, you were able to view footage that was perhaps lost to the decades or in Peter's case rewind the DVR back to catch Knight Rider. You didn't hate it as much as you had let on, often finding it joyful when you spent time with him; especially when he didn't use cheesy pickup lines in an attempt to impress you.

The truth was that you had already fallen for him not long after your first encounter with the tall silver boy. You had seen him later that day running laps outside, you saw him laughing and messing around with the other students; still stunned at how he wasn't technically a student like yourself. You saw a different side of Peter when he wasn't around you, you remember one day where you were sat in your dorm you could hear laughter from outside. Heaving the door open ready to yell at whoever was laughing at 4.30 in the morning you stopped and stared at the sight in front of you.

Peter was sat next to a young boy, who was curled up into a ball on the floor, tear marks staining his face. Peter was whispering jokes and reassuring words to the boy, hence the laughter, you smiled at the sight. When the boy felt better, he stood up and thanked Peter then returned to his room, Peter got up from his position on the floor; the wood creaking under his weight. Turning he met your gaze, frozen like a deer in the car headlights, "That was sweet, what you did there." you whispered, well aware of how early it was. Peter shrugged like it was no big deal "Couldn't let him just cry, it's scary when you think you're alone being what we are."

You gave him a gentle nod, turning back to go into your room. You paused looking up to find his eyes already on you, a warm smile facing you "Goodnight Peter," you grinned, "Night."

"No," he joked, his voice snapping you back into reality. "No?" you questioned, now intrigued, "I want something else, something that only you can give me." he tantalised. You huffed, but even you knew he could tell you were enjoying the attention he gave you, "Okay, so what is it?" He beamed at you, taking a few steps closer to you, the gap between you both almost non-existent. "I want a date." he demanded, his tone cocky.

You were almost shooked, emphasis on almost, tilting your head at him you appeared to him as though you were mulling over the request. "So if I go on a date with you I get my drink back, right?" you repeated, Peter simply nodded his smirk faltering a little.

"Okay." you simply replied, taking the warming glass from his hands, laughing at the awestruck look on his face. "So, they're showing that new Breakfast Club movie If you - I don't know- maybe wanna go see it with me?"

You guzzled down what remained of your drink, licking your lips, smirking when you saw Peter's eyes trail your tongues movements. "I don't know," you mused, watching as his confident expression became that of nerves "You might have to slow down a bit for me." you mused. Peter smiled at you, a charming, real smile. "Hey, c'mon, I can do that."