#(only the first time i talked to him to be exact)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Good evening to you. I thought about writing you many times but never had the courage to do so 😅 I saw a TikTok Trend some time ago and thought about the Reaction from our beloved task Force 141. How would they react when you "accidentally" sent them the message "He just left our house, you can come now. He'll be gone for some time". Basically pranking them by implying something shady. You can ignore this if it's weird of course. Thank you for your time and amazing writing 🙏😊

I'm so glad you finally got the courage to send in a request because I had so much fun with this one! Many many thanks because I pretty much cackled and giggled the whole time I wrote this. I'm not exaggerating. I adored this prompt. It not only gave me room for a little humor, but it also gave me the opportunity to be a little naughty!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & shenanigans, suggestive themes, mild sexual content, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, swearing, possessive behavior

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Five minutes.

Five. Minutes.

Five minutes and you're already causing problems.

John isn't surprised. Not in the least. Sometimes, you enjoy being on your worst behavior just because it stirs him into a frenzy.

John is sitting at a stoplight, staring down at his phone screen. A car honks but he ignores it.

He's gone. Come over.

There isn't anyone else. John knows this explicitly. Not because he completely trusts you—which he does—but because he knows your exact location at all times. He knows what you search on your phone and what things you look at on the internet. And because he knows that, he knows you're just trying to take the piss.

Locking his phone screen, John turns on his blinker. A few turns later and he's back home, marching through the door. He's not mad. Far from it. You just need a good lesson—a good spanking. Over his knee with a bare ass. That way he can watch it bounce, watch as you wiggle and squirm, hear you whimper, and watch as your arousal grows with each strike.

Then, and only then, will he keep you under him. Which is what you want anyway.

John walks silently and with purpose, approaching you as you casually lounge on the couch.

"You're home early."

John ignores the jab. "You're on one today, cabbage."

"Whatever do you mean?"

John holds up his phone. "Think I'm going to believe this?"

Your eyes widen but John can see the bluff. "I meant to send that to—"

"To me," interrupts John. “You meant to send it to me.”

"To a friend,” you correct, but John notices the smile you attempt to hide. “I meant to send it to a friend.”

No. You wanted John to come home—to be a bit neurotic, even a little possessive.

"Fine," growls John. "I'll bite."

He places one hand on the top of the back cushion while the other rests above your head. He leans in, lowering his voice.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"Show me you mean it."

You tuck your knees in, drawing back your top and removing your lounge pants. When they're gone, you spread wide, revealing your glistening pussy. Your arousal is clear, and John cannot wait to sink inside.

"That's my good girl."

John "Soap" MacTavish

You sent the texts not long after Johnny left for work.

He’s gone. Won’t be home for hours. Come over.

At first, you believed that Johnny would get those texts and immediately turn around, to head home and bust down the door. He did no such thing. He didn’t even respond. Not a peep from him. You spent the rest of the day in limbo, unsure if Johnny received the texts at all.

So, when he does come home, you expect him to say something.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, going in for a kiss.

“How was work?” you ask.

“Good,” he replies, heading down the hall to the bedroom. “Had a briefing. We’ll be heading out for a mission next week.”

“Do you know when exactly?” you ask.

“Tuesday!” he calls back.

Nothing. This man is completely glossing over the fact that you sent those texts to him. When he reappears in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, you nearly swoon at his bare chest and stomach.

���What did you get up to today?” he asks, sauntering over to grasp your hips and pull you close.

“Nothing much,” you reply, and Johnny hums in reply, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know,” he says after a beat, fishing out his phone from his pocket. “You did send me a few odd texts earlier.” He taps away at the screen at turns it around to show you.

The texts you sent are right there, glowing brightly.

“Oh, those—”

“I checked the cameras.”

“Cameras?” you choke. “What cameras?”

Johnny grins and then he’s tapping away at his phone again. When he shifts the screen around, you see yourself and him in real time. You turn to the corner of the room from where the feed is coming from.

“I never saw anyone come over. But I did see this.”

Tapping again, he changes to an earlier time during the day. It’s a feed of the bedroom, and you’re masturbating. Johnny ups the volume and you hear yourself moan.

“There’s this, too,” he says, switching to the night before when he had you on all fours, ass in the air.

“Johnny!”

He tightens his hand on your hip, keeping you close. Lowering his voice, Johnny grins. “Try again, love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You watch from the window as Simon’s car pulls out of the drive. You wait until he turns the corner before unlocking your phone and selecting his name.

He’s just left. Come over.

With a wicked grin, you hit send, knowing that the texts will reach Simon any second. Leaning against the window, you wait, and then smile wider as Simon’s car sharply turns the corner and speeds down the street back to the house.

He’s hardly parked the car before he’s exiting the vehicle, storming toward the house, malicious intent clear with every step. With a triumphant giggle, you rush to the bedroom and flop onto the bed, pretending that you’re up to nothing at all.

You hear the front door slam, then Simon’s thunderous footsteps followed by doors opening and closing. Sprawling out across the bed, you tap away at your phone, acting like you're not bothered at all.

When he appears in the doorway, you deliberately ignore him for five long seconds before you casually turn your head and smile.

"You're home early," you observe.

Simon looms in the doorway. "What the bloody hell was that text about?"

"What text?" you shrug, all innocence.

Simon, deadpan, replies "He's just left. Come over."

"Oh. That was for a friend."

"Which friend?"

"A friend."

Simon slowly walks up to the side of the bed. "You're fucking with me."

"Don't know what you're on about, Simon."

The murderous demeanor you saw earlier melts away, leaving behind a mischievous glint that you know all too well. With a viper-like quickness, Simon grasps your ankle and yanks you to the end of the bed.

"Simon!" you shriek, but he's already flipping you over onto your stomach.

He plants both knees on either side of you, keeping you trapped beneath him, his large hands coming down on your wrists to pin them above your head.

"Was last night not enough?" he asks, voice a gruff whisper. "Or do you need another lesson?"

You lift your head as Simon transfers both wrists beneath one hand. He has his phone, tapping away at the screen.

'What are you doing?"

"Telling Price I'm not coming in."

"But you're scheduled."

Simon locks the phone and then tosses it to the side. "He'll understand." Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, his voice drops to a breathy whisper. "I have a woman to breed."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It's cruel, perhaps. Even mean. But getting Kyle worked up is so goddamn sweet.

He’s protective, sometimes even a bit possessive, and nothing is hotter to you than watching him stake his claim.

Which is why you sent those texts in the first place—a way to make his heartrate spike.

He just left. He'll be gone for hours.

Kyle bursts through the bedroom door, his chest heaving as if he just ran several miles.

“Where are they?” he asks, voice a growl.

Kyle heads for the bathroom. Throwing open the door, he storms inside, but finding nothing, retreats back into the bedroom.

"Where's who?" you ask in mock innocence as Kyle opens the closet, pushing aside clothes as if he’ll find someone hiding there.

Kyle exits the closet, hands on his hips. “I saw the texts.”

“What texts?” You casually retrieve your phone, already knowing what you’ll find there. Opening up the messaging app, you click on Kyle’s name, and laugh.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “I meant to send that to a friend.”

Kyle’s eyes shut, and the sigh he makes is so loud you laugh harder. Clutching his own phone in his hand, Kyle shakes it in his fist.

“You’re having a laugh,” he says.

"No," you giggle. "Just a mistake."

That thin line becomes a smirk. Kyle tosses his phone onto the bed and you immediately know you’re done for.

“I know you, love. Think you’re clever, yeah?”

He saunters forward, and you push up onto your hands, sliding back along the bed.

“Kyle,” you warn.

“Tricking me just to get me home. For what? Think I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you?”

Yes. That’s exactly what I think.

You scoot away, sinking into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Kyle matches your movements until he’s nearly horizontal over you.

“You’re right,” he continues. “I will.” His gaze roams over your body and then returns to your face. “But first, I’m going to train you into never making a silly mistake like that ever again.”

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[nottsfavoritewitch]

The Other Girls (t.n)

Pairing: theo nott x malfoy reader

Warnings: VERY VERY VERY LONG!!!!! 18+, mdni, smut, some fluff, a little angst, draco's little sister, brother's bsf, choking, nipple play, fingering, heavy cursing, drug use (theo smoking), corruption kink, degrading, praising, google-translated italian, porn with plot, obsessive/possessive theo, innocent reader, inexperienced reader x very experienced theo, lowercaps intended.

Summary: you're draco malfoy's younger sister by a year, and you've had a crush on theo all your life. you and theo were close childhood friends, but when he went to hogwarts, he forgot all about you. you joined hogwarts a year later, and unfortunately got sorted into gryffindor. as a result, theo and you only drifted apart further. he was always surrounded by girls. as the years go by, you try to get theo's attention in every way, but he never notices you. as a last resort, you end up taking advice from the girls that theo hangs around, in hopes that maybe... maybe it might finally work...

Author's note: WARNING: VERY VERY LONG! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!! (sorry but i tend to get carried away with the details). This is my first time writing smut, or posting it here on tumblr... Please be nice. Also, many many apologies that this is super, super long... Kinda got carried away.. Enjoy :))

THEO always spent Christmas at Malfoy Manor. Ever since his mother's death, and his father always having some sort of 'business trip,' Narcissa suggested that Theo resided with the Malfoys for the whole Christmas break, and some of the summer.

You had always loved him. Since you were three years old, you used to follow him and Draco around, tagging along after both of them, much to your older brother's annoyance.

Even during your Hogwarts years, you always tried to attract his attention, trying to show him you were all grown up, that you were more than Draco's little sister. But he never saw, he never once acknowledged you as anything other than a sisterly figure.

During your fifth year at Hogwarts, you realized that Theo was never going to reciprocate your feelings, so you decided to try and get over him. You weren't allowed boyfriends. Draco always beat up any guy who dared to ask you out, and Theo did the exact same. Any guy who talked to you, or said something about you behind your back, or even looked at you, would end up in the hospital wing. As a result, you had been stood up many times, wondering why your date never showed up, only to realize he had either been beaten up, or scared away by Theo and Draco. That night always ended up with you crying.

You were never allowed to go to parties, or drink either. Draco and Lucius were always very, very protective over you. You were the Malfoy princess, the youngest child, the favorite, the spoiled little girl...

Yet somehow, right before the Christmas break, you gave in to your little rebellious streak and your friend's persuasion to sneak into one of the Slytherin parties.

The moment you got to the party, you were completely shocked. This was nothing like what you had in mind... Your outfit, a pretty, dainty, little white dress with a skater skirt felt far too modest, and the whole room smelt of weed, sweat and alcohol. People were publicly making out, the girls dressed in the skimpiest clothing you ever saw, and at the center of it all, next to Draco and his friends, you saw him.

Your breath hitched. He was sitting on the couch, legs slightly spread, surrounded by girls, one was even on his lap, and he was holding a cigarette. Smoke surrounded him as he blew it out from his mouth, laughing as his hand trailed up and down the girl's thigh.

All at once, you felt jealous. All the feelings for him you had tried so hard to bury came surfacing, and your blood boiled with anger, hurt, betrayal... What did Theo see in those girls that he never saw in you??

You quickly turned around, before Theo, or your brother saw you, and accepting the firewhiskey your friend had gotten for you— even though you'd never drunk before.

One sip became one glass, and before you knew it, you were intoxicated enough to dance to the loud music, and you were soon surrounded by a small group of boys, who simply couldn't believe you, of all people, were actually at the party.

Theo had managed to catch sight of you, and he dragged you out of the Slytherin Common room after beating up all three boys to the ground, jaw ticking and fists clenching with anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he growled.

Tears pricked your eyes as you stared up at him, but you didn't let them fall. You clenched your jaw, angry at him. He always, always ruined your fun.

"Partying, of course," you replied, a little too sharply for Theo's liking. But then again, you were drunk, after just one glass.

"Does your brother know?" Theo asked, ripping the almost empty glass of firewhiskey from your hand and tossing it aside lazily. "Do you want me to tell him you're here?"

"I don't care," was your reply, you sounded sullen. "You're not my dad, or my brother."

The answer was enough to send Theo into a rage, and he angrily grabbed your wrist with a grip slightly too harsh. "Go," he ordered, his dark blue eyes ablaze. "Go back to your dorm."

That had been the end of it.

Yet somehow, you still couldn't get over the memory of seeing Theo with a girl over his lap, and somehow, you wished that that had been you instead.

After that, you started to slowly eavesdrop on those Slytherin and Ravenclaw girls that usually hung around Theo, and you had managed to learn a few things from them...

One, that Theo loved short skirts, two, that he liked low necklines and tight blouses, and three, that he liked having girls sitting on his lap.

Which is why you were currently wearing the most revealing outfit you'd ever worn in your life, at the moment.

You always gave Theo a present for Christmas, every year, since you were very young, and this year was no different. The only difference was, that instead of leaving it under the tree, you'd be giving it to him in person, this time.

You'd made him some brownies— muggle style. It had been your first time ever baking something, and you were rather nervous of the outcome. Theo loved brownies, since he was young, and for someone who had everything in the world, you felt like something handmade would definitely be seen as more heartfelt.

The little white box of brownies sat on your dresser, wrapped with a pink ribbon— your signature style as you stared into the mirror, scrutinizing your outfit and applying all the finishing touches.

If your parents, or your brother ever saw her in this outfit, she knew she would forever be banned from doing your own shopping.

A baby pink, short, pleated mini skirt rested around your hips, just covering your ass. If you bent over, your ass would most certainly be on full display. You paired it with a lace, white, bralette top, with a deep, plunging V-neckline. It exposed your entire midriff, ending just short of your ribs, the lace transparent enough to see the milky skin underneath.

Your blonde hair was tied into a high ponytail, a few tendrils framed your face. You applied your waterproof mascara and a final layer of lip gloss.

You had never felt so bare. And yet, you felt so confident that you looked pretty.

Grabbing the box of brownies, you glanced at the clock. Ten past midnight. It was officially Christmas. Everyone was in their own rooms, and Theo's was conveniently just down the corridor from yours.

You were completely silent as you left your room, closing the door behind you, and headed to Theo's.

You gently knocked on the door, softly enough for anyone else not to hear.

"Come in," came Theo's lazy drawl.

Cautiously, slowly, nervously, you stepped in, closing the door behind you, the box of brownies held behind your back.

"Hi Theo," you whispered shyly, balancing on your heels.

He hadn't been expecting you. He had probably thought you were Draco.

But God— did his eyes rake your figure when he saw you wearing that tiny fucking skirt. The sight of you standing there, looking so goddamn shy and innocent was refreshing, to say the least.

He was seated on the couch, legs spread slightly, smoking a cigarette. Just like how he had been sitting at the Slytherin party—an empty bottle of whiskey rested on the side-table. The only difference? This time, his shirt was fully unbuttoned, tie draped around his shoulders.

You couldn't help but let your eyes wander down his chiseled abs, his bare muscular chest, and your fingers had the sudden urge to travel down his bare skin.

His hair was tousled, as if he had been running his hands through it... It looked so soft, you wanted to touch it. His dark blue eyes bored into yours with a hint of wickedness. God— he was so attractive.

"Baby Malfoy. I didn't expect to see you," he purred, lips curling into a smirk. "What brings you here at this time of the night?"

Oh, he knew of your feelings for him, he wasn't that oblivious. He knew exactly why you were here.

"I..." He always made you nervous. You couldn't help but stutter. "I came to give you your Christmas present..." you said softly.

"At this time?" he drawled, motioning for you to come closer with two fingers.

His hands.

His fucking hands.

They always drove you insane... Perfectly manicured, long fingers, veiny, defined, smooth... On numerous occasion, you had imagined him holding you with those hands, touching you...

But those were all fantasies.

Slowly, you moved closer, hesitantly, tentatively, cautiously... You didn't answer his question, you merely set the box in his lap and waited for him to open it.

He was quite surprised to see the brownies, to say the least. He had been expecting something else, something... bought.

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you carefully. "You made these?"

You nodded.

"By yourself? The muggle way? For me?"

You nodded again.

Once again, he smirked, and he grabbed a piece, gently biting into it, maintaining eye-contact with you the whole time.

Your heart was beating madly. Your stomach was full of fluttering butterflies, and goosebumps erupted all over your skin, making you feel cold.

Of course, it was winter, and you were dressed in practically nothing.

He chewed it, slowly, still holding your gaze. "It's good," he finally said, licking his lips and placing the box full of the rest of the brownies on the side table. "Good job, Baby Malfoy..."

He spared you no second glance as he went back to reading his book, and once again, you felt a sinking sensation fill you, and disappointment in your heart.

Obviously, he had expected you to leave. But when he still saw you standing there, he raised a brow. "Is something the matter?"

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away. You shook your head.

He went back to reading.

Until you could stand it no more. He hadn't mentioned one, single thing, one single comment about your outfit. You felt hurt. Hurt that you had put in so much effort, taken so much time to get ready for him, and he hadn't even smiled.

The words slipped out before you could control them.

"Do you like my outfit?" you blurt, sounding a little bit offended. "Don't I look pretty?" you continued, shyly biting your lip.

"You look like a whore," Theo replied coldly, without even looking up from his text.

This time, you couldn't help welling up at his harsh, hurtful words. He never said anything to those other girls when they dressed up like this for him.

"Th-there's no need to be mean," you whimpered, evident hurt in your beautiful silvery gray eyes. You were on the verge of tears. "I.. I spent hours dressing up just for you... and... and then you say—" You broke off, unable to finish your sentence.

That was enough to snatch Theo's attention. His eyes snapped back up to meet yours.

"You dressed up for me?" he echoed, his tone commanding, yet smooth, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

The way you blinked and looked away was enough to tell Theo your answer.

"What gave you the idea I'd like your outfit?" he asked, setting his book aside and putting out his cigarette, leaving the end in the ashtray.

Your cheeks turned red, and you averted your gaze back to the floor. "D-Daphne Greengrass and the other girls," you whispered shyly, very, very softly.

"Is that so?" Theo mused, taking in your every expression.

Slowly, you nodded.

"What else did you hear Daphne Greengrass and the other girls say?" he mocked.

You couldn't catch the irony in his tone until it was too late. Somehow, the answer slipped out before you could catch it. "Th-that you like it when girls sit in your lap," you mumbled, your voice sounding troubled, still very hurt by his words.

He really was mean.

You wanted to go back to your room and never see him again.

"Hm," said Theo thoughtfully, before he slid his tie off his shoulders, crumpled it into a tiny ball and flung it across the room, where it landed directly onto his bed.

"And? Aren't you going to follow their advice?" he asked, inching his legs slightly further apart.

Your eyes slowly slid up to meet his, utterly shocked he would even suggest it when he didn't like you that way.

Tears clung to your eyelashes, and you stood frozen, right there, unable to move.

A dry chuckle rumbled through him, and you hated the way it sent shivers down your spine. "Aren't you? Go on, I'm waiting..."

You blinked, a small whimper leaving you as you took a small step back, ready to go back to your room, but when he patted his lap, as his eyes bored into yours, challenging you, you realized he was being serious about this.

You wanted to leave, but part of you wanted to stay. Your eyes fell down to look at his lap.

This might be your first and last chance to sit on his lap, and before you knew it, you gently perched your bottom on his knee, avoiding his gaze, hands in your lap.

The moment you made contact with him, you felt his breath hitch the slightest bit, but otherwise, he remained composed.

"Like this," he ordered, both hands grabbing your waist and pulling you harshly towards himself, until both your legs were on either side of him and you were straddling his lap.

Fire danced on your skin, especially with the frigid metal rings he wore burning into your skin.

You let out a soft, yet audible gasp and your breath hitched.

Having no clue what to do, or what to say, you shied away from meeting his gaze, nervously chewing on your lower lip, unaware that Theo's eyes were burning into you.

"Good girl..." his praise rumbled in his throat, and once again, those butterflies returned in your abdomen.

His praise sent shivers down your spine, and slowly, tentatively, your eyes slid upwards to catch his gaze.

"Such an obedient whore," he murmured in a low tone, and once again, tears began pricking your eyes. No one had ever spoken to you this way, no one ever dared to.

"I'm... I'm not a whore," you whimpered, your teeth sinking harder into your lower lip.

"Well, you're dressed like a whore," Theo replied, faux pity lacing his tone. "Aren't you?"

You blinked, trying not to cry, but the tears only clung to your lashes and threatened to trail down your cheeks any moment.

"Answer me," he demanded, hands pressing your waist harder, cold rings searing your skin.

"Y-yes," you whispered, your teeth attacking your lower lip once more.

"So since you're dressed like a fucking whore, I'm gonna treat you like it... la mia puttana," he purred, lightly swatting your thigh.

That was all it took for you to break.

"Y-you're being mean," you whimpered, a single tear sliding down your cheek, tears swimming in your pretty gray eyes.

"Aww, poor baby," Theo scoffed. "Never had anyone talk to you like this? Never been treated like a whore before?"

He was breaking you, and he was succeeding. You had always gotten what you wanted, since birth. All you had to do was smile and flutter your eyelashes, maybe pout and fake a few tears...

Theo treated you differently. He didn't treat you like royalty, like you were used to... He treated you like... like a whore, and he seemed totally unaffected by your tears, which were real.

"I.. hate you," you cried, your voice breaking. "I.. I put in all this effort, trying to get you to notice me, and you..."

You broke off, choking a sob, pushing his chest in an attempt to get off his lap, but he only gripped your waist harder, setting you down on his lap and preventing you from moving.

"Sit fucking down," he growled, and you couldn't help but obey. "You're not leaving until I say you are, are we clear, amore?"

You nodded, another small sob leaving you as you gulped.

"I need words," Theo demanded.

"Yes," you whispered, sniffling, refusing to look at him, stubbornly glaring at your lap with your lip stuck between your teeth.

"Good girl," he praised, before his gaze softened slightly, realizing that you had probably learned your lesson. His demeanor shifted, becoming less harsh as he gently lifted his hand to your face, gently caressing your jaw.

Surprised as you were by his tender touch, you still refused to look at him. His thumb gently brushed your tears away, from both eyes.

"Look at me," he requested softly, tone low and very, very gentle.

You slowly lifted your gaze up, as if you expected him his sudden gentleness to be a trick your mind was playing on you. Your eyesight was slightly blurred by the tears you had shed, but as you looked at his face, you could see the softened look in his eyes.

"Shh, don't cry now, Principessa," he murmured softly, thumb gently caressing your cheek bone as he looked into your big, vulnerable gray eyes, full of innocence.

"Pretty girl," he murmured, thumb tracing soothing patters on your cheek.

Your stomach flipped at the praise. You couldn't believe your ears— Did he just call you pretty after calling you a whore??

"You're such a pretty girl, so fucking gorgeous," he continued. "You don't need to wear such revealing clothes, show off your body to look pretty..."

You were silent, yet your sniffles subsided. You were now staring at Theo with rapt attention, his praises slowly bringing back your confidence.

"Those other girls..." he murmured softly. "They're not as beautiful as you, that's why they need to show off their bodies... That's why they dress like whores..."

His voice was soft, delicate around you. "But you..." He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You're not a whore, you're a fucking princess..."

One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other at his side, on the seat of the couch, next to his pocket. "Why would you listen to the other girls, hm? Why would you want to be like the other girls?"

"I..." you began, finding your voice. "B-because you like them," you whispered. "You notice them.. I thought.. I thought maybe if I become like them, you'd like me too.. You'd notice me too..."

You couldn't hide the pain in your voice, the longing in your tone. And somehow, as the words slipped out, you realized you had practically confessed your obvious feelings for Theo, the feelings you tried so hard to hide.

Once again, you bit your lip, an irksome habit that you'd had since you were young.

Slowly, Theo's thumb gently trailed down your cheek and landed on your lower lip, and he softly tugged it free, away from the grasp of your teeth. His touch was cold against the warmth of your lip, and his thumb lingered there for a while, as if he did not want to pull it away. "I've always noticed you," he confessed, his voice a low mutter.

Your breath hitched, and he chuckled slightly, gently running his thumb across your lower lip.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your cheeks turned slightly pink at how good Theo's touch felt, even though it was just a little bit.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured softly, and you nodded singly, just once.

"Use your words, Baby," Theo cooed.

"Theo," you whispered, accidentally blurting out his name.

Once again, he slowly moved his hand back to your bare waist, rings pressed into your skin, and his thumb resting just at the hem of your bralette top, underneath your ribs.

His other hand remained on your cheek as his thumb continued caressing your lower lip, coaxing your mouth to open slightly, before he slipped his thumb through your parted lips.

A small whimper left your lips, and you opened your eyes, your gaze locked on his.

Slowly, without even realizing it, your tongue accidentally brushed against the pad of his thumb, and Theo bit back a low groan as he pushed the entirety of his thumb into your mouth.

Your heart was beating thunderously in your chest, and you had no idea what Theo was doing, but whatever it was, you liked it. You didn't want it to stop... You had his attention, and you wanted it on you forever.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you enjoyed the way his thumb fit perfectly in your mouth, until you got carried away, tongue tracing the length of his digit.

Theo suddenly lost it. All his control snapped as a growl escaped him. "Does my dumb little whore want her mouth filled?" he drawled, pulling his thumb away.

Hot. You felt hot with the way he spoke, with the way his words drove you insane. Even though he called you a whore, this time, you liked it. Because he called you his pretty little whore.

A whimper left you when he pulled his thumb away, disappointed at the lack of contact.

A smirk curled across his lips and he let out a small chuckle. "Mm, that's what I thought," he whispered, more to himself than to you.

Before you knew it, he had pushed the tips of two of his fingers into your mouth; his index and middle, fingertips pressing down on the pad of your tongue.

"Let's see how long you can suck on my fingers without gagging, shall we?" he cooed, pushing the rest of his fingers deeper into your mouth, until they were all the way in.

A small groan left you, but it was muffled by his fingers, and slowly, you started sucking on his long digits, your eyes fluttering shut as you lost yourself in a rhythm.

Theo pressed harder on your tongue, activating your gag reflex, and he only chuckled when you gagged.

"Just my fingers, I know you can handle it— such a good girl..." he praised, his other hand tightening around your throat, blocking your airway.

You choked, a huge wad of saliva dribbling down your chin, tears filling your eyes because you couldn't breathe.

The thought of his very large, veiny hands manhandling you like this only turned you on, and he had barely even touched you. You could feel yourself grow wetter between your thighs, and the fact that you were on his lap, barely clothed, only caused your heartbeat to quicken.

He only pulled out his fingers when they were covered in your saliva that dribbled down your chin, and gently wiped them on his lap.

Once again, you were disappointed. It was like he was playing with you. One moment he was all over you, the next... he was gone.

"Theo, please," you whispered, your voice hoarse from being choked.

"What?" he asked, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. He had expressed it very clearly that he wanted you to use your words, and that was only when he would give in to your desires.

"Please kiss me," you breathed shyly.

He did not hesitate. Both hands gripped your face gently as he kissed you.

He started off gentle, his lips gently brushed against yours, just barely. Then, when he felt your hands gently rest against his bare chest, he dove right into your mouth.

His lips collided with yours, his mouth devouring yours like a man starved.

You moaned softly, whispering his name, and that was all it took for Theo's other hand to roughly grasp your waist and slide you forward, pulling you closer, until your hips were flush with his. "Fuck," he gasped. "Such a pretty little moan—"

His teeth harshly grazed your lower lip, and he took advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue into your mouth, engaging with yours in a fierce tango.

Once again, you felt needier and needier between your thighs, and you were filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation of Theo finding out exactly what effect he had on you.

He pulled away, and your mouth opened to protest, but the sound was drowned out when he attached his lips to your neck. He took a little bit of skin between his teeth, biting your flesh and eliciting a gasp from your lips as he sucked a mark there, his tongue running soothingly over the spot.

When he pulled away, a red spot had already began to bloom against your skin.

He didn't stop there.

His lips began trailing lower and lower as he left hickeys everywhere. Every sensual caress of his lips, every nibble of his teeth sent you into overdrive. His spicy, citrusy cologne kidnapped your senses, only heightening your pleasure.

His lips traveled all over your neck, all over your collarbones, trailing down to your chest. He was leaving hickeys all over the exposed swells of your breasts, your nipples hardening underneath the thin fabric to the point where they were reduced to aching pebbles.

"Wanna feel these perfect tits in my mouth," he murmured, his hands on both your boobs as he squeezed the soft flesh— they were the perfect size to fit into his palm.

You couldn't control your hands as they harshly gripped his hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. Involuntarily, your hand dragged his head down, until his lips came into contact with your clothed nipple.

"So fucking perfect..."

His hot mouth closed over the little nub, saliva dampening the white, lacy fabric. His other hand slowly caressed your other breast, squeezing the soft mound, thumb tracing gentle circles around your nipple through the thin cloth.

He sucked on your tit, before he grabbed the clothed nipple between his teeth and tugged, causing you to yelp.

At last, you could hold back no more.

A loud moan escaped your lips, and you cried out sharply, begging for him. "Theo, please," you whined, begging him to touch you where you needed it most. "I need you— please..."

That was all that was needed for him to unlatch his mouth from your clothed nipple with ragged breathing as he brought his hands to your back and shifted your position.

Now, you were lying down on the couch, and he hovered above you, leaning down to gently kiss you again.

"Tell me what you want, amore," he murmured, lips brushing against yours. He wouldn't push you, he wouldn't do anything you weren't ready for.

Your chest heaved, and you looked up at him pleadingly, your nipples aching underneath the damp fabric of your bralette top and your panties soaked.

"I... I want.. I want.." words failed you, so instead, you took a deep breath and swallowed thickly, gently grasping one of his larger hands in yours, and sliding it from your waist, to your thigh, above your skirt. "Anything," you whispered. "Please, please... touch me..."

Slowly, not wanting to rush you, Theo allowed his hands to gently travel down your bare midriff and your thighs, smoothing down the material of your tiny skirt, the hem barely reaching your mid thigh.

"Gods— so fucking sexy..." he murmured, allowing his hand to slowly slip underneath your skirt and caress your upper thigh, his thumb inching closer and closer to your heat, settling in the split between your thighs, right where you needed him most, resting above your clothed cunt.

"Is this okay?" he whispered softly, thumb gently tracing soft circles over your clit, through the thin, lacy fabric. He did not look underneath your skirt— he kept his eyes trailed on your face, on your flushed cheeks and your pretty eyelashes that kissed the chub of your cheeks every time you blinked.

"Yes," you breathed, nodding softly.

On feeling how soaked your panties were, a hitch blistered in his throat. "Poor baby," he cooed. "You must be so needy..."

You whimpered at the sensation his words sent through you, and you found yourself nodding.

"Let me help, yeah?" Theo murmured, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your panties, hand somewhere underneath your skirt.

He groaned loudly the moment his fingers came into contact with your wetness, and he couldn't help the curses that tumbled past his lips.

His index finger ran up and down your leaking slit, accompanied by his middle finger, whilst his thumb continued rubbing your clit in circles.

He balanced on his knees as he looked into your eyes, his other hand gently sliding the straps of your bralette down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, and to his gaze.

He was hard. So fucking hard.

No one had ever gotten him this hard before, and the sight of you, spread on the couch underneath him, so willingly almost caused him to cum in his pants.

So many times he had envisioned you like this, unbeknownst to you... So many times he had jerked off in the bathroom, imagining what you looked like underneath your clothes.

But he had to hide his desire for you, his obvious need— he couldn't face the wrath of Draco, let alone Lucius.

You were the best Christmas present. The best sight he had ever seen.

"Shit, shit shit—," he rasped, completely speechless, his fingers still playing with your folds underneath your skirt. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he praised, bringing his mouth to one of your nipples as his fingers teased your hole.

You were a whining, moaning, leaking mess for him. You were so wet, you felt like you would explode any moment, yet you needed him— more, more, more.

He seemed to understand, because the moment he licked a long stripe over your nipple, he gently eased the tip of his middle finger into your hole.

"So tight— so perfect," Theo groaned, as your virgin walls fluttered at the invasion, clamping tightly around his finger. He slowly eased it all in, gently pumping it in and out, his eyes watching your reaction for the first time.

Your chest heaved, and your moans grew more frequent at the blissful sensation of having something fill you.

You were content, until Theo eased another finger inside you, pumping both fingers faster into your hole, stretching it. Your eyes widened, and you gripped his hair, tugging on his roots harshly, eliciting a string of muttered curse-words.

"Fuck, fuck— Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo—"

You never realized you could feel this good, and Theo only heightened your pleasure when his two, long fingers curled up inside you, pressing against that fleshy spot.

"Such a tight little cunt," he grunted, words slightly muffled as his teeth attacked your nipple, with roughness that bordered on assault.

You could feel the knot form in your lower abdomen. You spread your legs slightly more as your climax approached, and you made it awfully clear that you were close as your moans grew louder.

"Oh my God—" you gasped. "Theo— ah— please, more... I'm... I feel.."

Theo quickened his pace, his fingers pounding into you as he watched your eyes roll back, your chest heave, your boobs bounce slightly with the way you moved your hips to seek more friction to get you to your climax.

The sound of him sliding his ringed fingers in and out of you was drowned out by your ecstatic moans, as Theo pumped his fingers faster and faster, thumb pressing against your clit. His biceps flexed, the veins popping out as he fingered you, curling and scissoring his fingers to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

His rings were cold against your heat, serving to bring you to your climax faster as they added friction when his fingers pistoned in and out of you.

"You're gonna cum for me—" he promised, hand pinching your nipple harshly, whilst he tugged the other one between his lips, your hips bucking into his fingers.

Her hands were clenched, fingernails digging into her palms as you cried out his name like a prayer. "Theo— ah— fuck... I'm so close... argh—"

That's it, cum for me, lia mia piccola puttana... Cum all over my fingers like a good little slut," he muttered. "Make a mess on my hand..."

With a deliberate force of his hand, he drove his fingers upwards one more time, thumb pressing roughly on your clit to draw out your climax.

With a shudder, and an arch of your back, your walls clenched around his fingers, you finally orgasmed, your body spasming and contorting in pleasure, and there was nothing else on your mind but him.

"That's it, my pretty girl, moan for me," he praised. "You sound so fucking pretty when you moan for me like that..."

Your juices soaked his hand, trailing down his fingers and curling around his wrist, and it was only when your orgasm ended that he stopped thrusting his fingers.

He slowly eased them out of you, blindly sliding your panties back into place with his other hand under your skirt, bringing his long fingers up to his mouth to taste your essence, groaning at how fucking delicious you tasted.

"So fucking sweet," he murmured, licking his fingers completely clean. His dick was hard under his pants, straining against his zipper, but he did not let the attention waver off you.

You watched him, eyes transfixed on his as he slowly slid your bralette back into place, covering your boobs.

"Merry Christmas, Principessa," he whispered softly, gently kissing you.

A smile formed on your lips as you stared up at him, still so shy as you thought about what you had just done. "Merry Christmas, Theo," you whispered back, unable to hide your joy.

You returned to your room a few hours before dawn, before anyone else could catch you. Changing into your pajamas, a constant grin was plastered on your face as you drifted off to sleep.

It lasted for the rest of the Christmas holidays too.

Author's note: there, my first time publishing and writing smut. i hope you guys liked it... please, please reblog/repost (i have no idea how to use tumblr) and let me know if you'd like me to write a part two of this fic.

i know it's super long, but aside from that, i hope it was okay? please let me know your thoughts, comment pleasseeee.

also i take requests, so feel free to send them it!

love, jas.

[sematarygirls]

Okay but he’d fuck you so hard when they lose the Super Bowl after you spends an hour gloating about the eagles handing their asses to them!

i saw this request and started giggling and kicking my feet omg. anon, i owe you my first born child. you are a GENIUS! (although, fair warning, i'm not great at writing smut. i hope this is okay <3) not proofread

cw: unprotected p in v, rough sex, mean rafe, slapping, degradation

Football tended to be a touchy subject between you and Rafe. Where you were a diehard Eagles fan, he wouldn't be caught dead rooting for them. After the Chiefs narrowly beat out the Eagles in the 2023 Super Bowl, Rafe wouldn't shut up for weeks about how "trash" the Eagles were. It drove you absolutely insane.

That's why, when the Eagles absolutely kicked ass this Super Bowl in a rematch against the Chiefs, beating them out at a whopping 40-22, you thought it was your well-deserved right to rub it in Rafe's face, much to his dismay.

One thing about Rafe is that gloating is only okay when he does it—much like a lot of other things (he's a very hypocritical guy), hence his growing anger when you wouldn't stop talking about how the Chiefs absolutely threw the game with all their fumbles, making jokes the whole time about how it seemed like they weren't even playing.

Another thing about Rafe? He tended to get violent when he was angry. With other people, this meant he'd kick their asses, but with you, it meant you were in for a long night of rough fucking to make him feel better and put you in your place for your "bratty attitude."

Though, if you tried to point out the hypocrisy with him finding your actions annoying when he had done the exact same two years prior, he would only get more annoyed and very, very defensive.

You'd learned at a very early stage in your relationship that some battles were not worth fighting with Rafe, and besides, you kind of liked it when he was all rough with you, manhandling and degrading you deliciously.

"Not so mouthy now, huh?" He taunted, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust pushed you forward a little bit, your face burying further into the pillows as you moaned. A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, the pain sending a jolt of pleasure to your core that had you practically gushing around Rafe's thick length. You didn't know how long you'd been going at this with him, but he hadn't let you cum, nor had he let up the brutal pace.

"Look at you," he sneered. "Can't even think of anything to say back to me, huh? Thought you were gonna gloat all night about how the Eagles won." His words were cruel and biting, revealing the depth of his anger, which wasn't about the football game. It was more so about being challenged, his ego hurt after talking such a big game about how the Chiefs were going to dominate.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your brain turned to mush as the only thing you could focus on were his rough hands on you and his length stretching your velvety walls. You could practically feel each ridge and vein of his cock as it slid back and forth, his tip nudging your cervix roughly with each pass.

"What happened to that smart mouth, huh?" He mocked. "Your dumb little brain's too desperate for cock, huh, bunny," he cooed, his tone patronizing as he continued to pound into you with rough strokes, making your back arch and eyes roll back.

He was so mean, but you loved it.

He was right. You couldn't respond to him anymore. You had lost your ability to form a single word, dumbed down to a mess of please sounds as he hit that sweet spot inside of you so perfectly. He took that as a victory, seeing it as proof that you knew your place. He loved it when you whimpered underneath him, completely at his mercy. "Look who's behaving now. You're lucky you're so pretty, honey," he continued, enjoying this little game of his. "Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with such a bratty mouth."

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned, giving your ass another sharp smack before his hands found your hips again, his grip bordering on painful. "And this fuckin' love this pussy. Fuckin' perfect, baby."

He was getting close. You could tell by the way his pace started to falter, and his words switched from degrading to praising. One hand slipped down to your clit, rubbing firm circles. Even when he was pissed, he still tried to make you cum first.

It didn't take much more effort on his part. Your thighs were already trembling, desperate for release from the moment he'd thrown you onto the bed and ripped your clothes off.

"You're gonna be a good girl now, huh? You're gonna stop being such a pain in the ass, aren't you?" He questioned, punctuating each question with a thrust. "No more running your mouth and riling me up, right?"

"Uh huh," you whined pathetically, needy and desperate to cum.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you, all pliant and begging. "Yeah, you gonna stop talking back, huh? You can be a good little bunny for me, can't you?" He cooed, his words sounding a little bit less harsh. He was enjoying having you like this, completely at his mercy.

All you could muster was a weak nod, your fingers gripping the sheets and mouth parted in ecstacy as you reached your peak, blinding pleasure overtaking your body as your walls clamped down around his cock.

"That's it, baby, just like that," he groaned, pumping a few more times before pushing deep inside you and releasing spurts of hot, sticky cum into your eager cunt.

[pullupinarari]

I feel so cold without you [LH]

summary: Lewis' schedule has been crazy, and he can't spend much time at home. but little Grace doesn't understand why.

author's note: I am still struggling with a writer's block so I'm so sorry cause this is honestly so bad and makes no sense, but I'm trying to get my creativity flowing again so pls bear with me. this is angsty but doesn't have a destructive ending. also barely proofread

• masterlist

wc: 5531 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Everybody knows that Lewis’ life involves traveling a lot, to different countries, continents, all the time - that’s not new to anyone. You met him in this reality, married him with this crazy agenda, and Grace was born in the middle of what you consider to be ‘normal’ for your life beside your husband. 

As a couple, you always managed to deal with the schedules, the work trips, the races abroad. As a family, you learned how to juggle being a mum and a wife to a F1 driver, with your own work responsibilities, teaching little Grace the best you can all about why her dad has to be away so much. 

When Lewis is away for a little time, your daughter understands it. She sees her daddy racing on the television, she chants his name as if she was there in person - she knows her dad is doing what he is best at, besides being the bestest daddy ever to her.

But Grace is very, very attached to Lewis, in the exact same way that Lewis is extremely attached to his princess, and they can’t stay away from each other for long. The problem is, for the past couple of weeks, your husband hasn’t been home. 

Lewis was in Italy, preparing everything at Ferrari, and setting everything up for the day you and Grace will meet him there, at the new place that you will call ‘home’ for this new period of your life. Then, the driver had to fly with the team to Spain, to prepare for the pre-season. So, his schedule has been incredibly tight, leaving him with no chance of flying back to London, to his girls’ arms, even for just a night. 

As the weeks pass by, your daughter starts growing confused. Daddy isn’t racing on the telly, he isn’t home to play with her, so the toddler could show him how she is feeling more confident to ride her pink bike, and the only time she sees him is through a video call that he does when calling you at the end of the day. 

So, why is daddy not home to tuck Gracie into bed every night? To give her the special forehead kisses that only he knows how to do, the ones that would scare away all the monsters?

Inside the three-year-old’s brain, everything made more sense while she could see him driving his car on the television, listening to him talking on the interviews following the race, knowing for a fact that her daddy is working. And, as much as you keep telling the toddler that dad is at work, where is he working? Why can’t Grace watch him on the television now? And why can’t he come home?

It’s been too long - you know. You admit it too. But you can’t say that to your baby’s face, adding more to the exasperation living inside her confused mind. It’s already heartbreaking enough to see your daughter’s eyes growing sadder by the day, noticing how she grows quieter through the week, seeing the disappointment plastered all over her face every time you have to say ‘no’ whenever she asks ‘is daddy coming home today?’

The salty tears painting the toddler’s features when she begs her daddy to come home over the phone are enough to make yours and Lewis’ hearts sting with an indescribable pain - one that seems to never cease, no matter how hard you try to nestle her close to your chest, trying your hardest to shush her fears and insecurities, making her feel protected in the first home she ever knew - your skin. 

- You don’t love me anymore, daddy? - Grace blurts out in between sobs, her little voice sounding muffled against your skin as she hides her face on the crook of your neck. 

The words leaving her mouth were enough to make Lewis’ heart sink, making sure that question will forever be engraved in his mind, not letting him forget about this moment, about the hurt in his princess’ voice when wondering why he is not home with her.

The man is left speechless for a minute, feeling a bunch of hot tears threatening to spill from his eyes as well. It has, definitely, been too long since he got to have a moment just for his family, dedicating all his hours to his favourite girls. 

He knows exactly how Grace is feeling, because Lewis feels the exact same void fulfilling his days, desperate to have some free time so he can go back home as soon as possible. But unfortunately, everything has been too much, lately, and the driver’s schedule is not giving him a break. 

- Daddy loves you more than anything else in this world, princess, you know that… - Lewis’ trembling voice cuts his phrase short, swallowing the knot that’s stuck in the man’s throat as his daughter continues weeping on the other side of the line.  - Then come home! I miss you so much, daddy - Grace insists, her sobs growing louder as the little girl tries to understand why her dad can’t be by her side, right now. 

He wishes he could. Lewis feels every bone in his body frail at night, when he lays his head on the pillow and opens his camera roll, going back to every picture and video that reminds him of some moments when he genuinely felt happy and at peace - with Grace in his arms, with you by his side. 

Tonight, some silent tears are finally freed from his eyes, looking at all the pictures of his child in his phone, while his brain is still replaying the toddler’s harsh question that she let out over the call earlier today. 

Lewis feels this moment completely wrecking him, especially when he stops to think about all the videos you send him while he is away, updating him on every new achievement and discovery your daughter makes during the days, trying your best so your husband won’t feel like he is missing too much. 

But he is. And he knows it - especially when he realizes how fast time passes by, how tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for anyone. How does he know that tomorrow is coming? Your husband keeps waiting for it, hoping that a break will eventually arrive so he can go home, but he shouldn’t suppose that tomorrow is coming, because nothing in this world can assure him that there will be one. And that thought kills him, because while he is thinking about it, he realizes that it’s been five weeks since the last time he got to be home, tucking his daughter to bed. 

The excited, bubbly Grace you know has been missing lately, leaving room for a sad and confused toddler to show up in her place - one that holds tighter to you when you hug her, when you’re holding her in your arms, kissing her curls as her lips just show you a downhearted pout. 

As your child grows up, she finds new challenges in life, and dealing with new emotions definitely is one of them - and missing her daddy this much has been leading to a rollercoaster of questions to erupt in your baby’s creative mind. You tuck her into bed, but it’s not the same thing. Your kisses are sweet and protective, but they are not Lewis’ cuddles that make sure to create a shield around the little princess, making sure no monsters can reach her. 

Your days have been hard as well, trying your best to deal with Grace’s doubts and tantrums, hushing her as you assure her that you are right there for her, informing her that her daddy will be by the girl’s side in no time. But, in the silent darkness of the night, heavy sighs escape your figure as well, loud noises of concern erupt in your mind, questioning if you are doing a good job, if you’re being a good mum, if you’re supporting your husband the right way. But, sometimes, you also ask yourself: where do you stand, in the middle of all this?

The arms that hold Grace are the same ones that hold Lewis when he needs it the most, you being the pillar of your family, holding everything in place when a storm threatens to push your boat away from safe land. Either way, you know better than to complain, understanding how this entire situation is hard for your husband as well, sharing the same pain and apprehension when you talk to him over the phone. 

Feeling restless from so many sleepless nights, being haunted by the infinite thoughts running through his brain, the man finally managed to get a free day - just 24 hours, but enough for him to fly back home, accepting the short break if that means he can hold the light of his life in his arms for a bit, shushing away all the small weeps that leave the toddler’s figure. 

Arriving early in the morning, you are already waiting to see your husband walking through the door, with a cup of warm tea in your hand. You can’t deny that there’s a small glimpse of nervousness bubbling inside of your stomach, at the thought of finally seeing him again, praying that his presence will lighten up the mood and help your daughter feel better. 

You’re sipping on your tea when you hear the front door open. Shortly after, his shadow appears on the kitchen’s tiles, mere seconds before the man himself is in front of you - the shine in his eyes, the relieved smile cracking through his tired features is noticeable, as he immediately walks over to you. 

Once your figures meet, Lewis wraps his arms around your figure, holding you close without saying a word, sharing a deep, tight hug while kissing your shoulder lovingly from time to time. There’s a heavy sigh leaving his body, as if being home is the magic solution that helps improve all his problems, taking a huge weight off his shoulders. 

His face is glued to the crook of your neck for a while, as your fingers reach to caress his scalp. It feels like time has stopped, as if the world is not spinning anymore. Both of you are merged in a bubble of comfort and reassurance, almost making up for all the stress and agony that your parental hearts have been feeling lately. 

When your lips finally connect again - after so long, a deafening silence is created between your bodies, as if your kisses speak for the two of you. I miss you, I need you, things have been so hard without you by my side. Both of you feel the same, both of you know how hard the past weeks have been for your family. 

Breaking the kiss, your foreheads are still glued, the tips of your noses touching, wanting to feel the other as close as possible. 

- She’s still asleep? - your husband breaks the silence, asking about Grace. He has very little time to stay, and he wants to enjoy every second by his daughter’s side. Still, the man can’t help but bite his own tongue as he looks at the time: it’s 7:24 am, and he knows that his baby usually doesn’t wake up that early. 

He earns a nod from you. The little girl hasn’t had nice nights of sleep lately either, constantly waking up after having bad dreams, always begging you to cuddle her to sleep, to let her sleep by your side. To tell the truth, your heart softens every time that your daughter asks to sleep with you, loving how she helps you fight Lewis’ absence as well, you two cuddling each other so you don’t feel so alone without his bright, powerful presence around.  

- She’s on your side of the bed, though - you inform him. Last night wasn’t any different. Another nightmare, another cuddle session in your bed before the toddler falls asleep again. 

Lewis furrows his eyebrows at your words for a second, before remembering that you had already told him all about how Grace has been having more bad dreams than usual, especially since she started feeling so down, constantly asking if her dad doesn’t want to be around her anymore. 

Again, a deep sigh leaves his lips, filling the air surrounding you. The memories of everything that his daughter has been saying, make an incredibly heavy weight to form on his shoulders, hating how he has to stay away for work so much, how he hasn’t been able to give his princess all the attention she needs and deserves. 

Trying to shrug those thoughts away, the man serves himself a cup of coffee before reaching for your hand, guiding you to lay on the sofa with him, wanting to enjoy this day to the fullest - starting with a cuddle session with his wife, until it’s time for Grace to wake up. 

Having your husband’s arms wrapped around you again almost feels like a dream. Something that has felt so distant for the past weeks, that you were craving and needing so much. And now, you finally have him all to yourself, and as you rest your head on his chest, a comfortable silence strings your bodies along. No one dares to say a word, just focusing on how each other’s touch feels light yet soothing against the other’s skin, leaving kisses here and there, hugging tighter and closer. 

In the back of your head, there’s a small assumption that keeps itching you. As much as you want to believe that he is home to stay - at least for a week or so, unfortunately, you noticed how small is the bag that he brought with him when he arrived. An incredibly small one, the type that Lewis only uses when he is only away for a weekend or so. So, as much as you want to make the most of this, the cuddles, his presence, you know it’s something that it won’t last. 

It’s like Lewis can feel the tension that slowly creeps on your muscles the more you think about it, his hands rubbing your back to try and calm you down, showing that he is here, right by your side, trying to take your mind off of whatever is bothering you. 

But in reality, he too has been obsessively thinking about the time passing by, how he needs to leave again in the middle of the night, not even being able to sleep beside his wife for an entire night - wanting nothing more than to cuddle you and Grace to sleep in his chest, protecting the loves of his life. But he can’t. Not tonight. And he knows that he hasn’t told you about it yet, but it’s like he can’t find the courage in his body to do it, to drop the bomb in your face, to ruin the moment you’re having right now. So he decides to keep it to himself, for now. 

8:47 am, you and your husband are climbing up the stairs to your shared bedroom, where your daughter is still sleeping. Opening the door to her tiny figure wrapped in the sheets, her curls all over his pillow, truly is the sight that the man didn’t know he needed to heal every wound in his heart. 

Lewis doesn’t even hold back, his body moving on its own as he sits at the end of the bed, on his side of the mattress that now apparently belongs to Grace, so he can have a better view of his baby’s features. 

She looks gorgeous as ever, the most beautiful and precious thing that Lewis has ever laid his eyes on, the most important thing in the driver’s life, the owner of his entire heart, without a doubt. Some small tears tingle in his eyes as his fingers gently caress the toddler’s cheek, slowly nudging her so the girl can wake up. 

- Princess - he calls quietly, before landing a small kiss on his child’s hand. - Time to wake up. 

Slowly opening her eyes, the little girl rubs her features as she wakes up from her slumber. Her gaze immediately is glued to the figure in front of her, almost as if she is trying to make sense of reality, questioning if she is still dreaming. 

- Daddy? - Grace whispers, before some tears appear in her eyes as Lewis nods at her question, getting close so he can hold her small body close to him. 

Small cries escape the toddler’s figure, as she immediately wraps her arms around her dad’s neck, using all her strength to not let him go, scared that he might leave again if she breaks the hug. 

Lewis can’t even describe the feeling washing over him as he can finally hold his daughter safely in his arms, noticing the scent of her baby shampoo, how her skin still holds his favourite smell ever. He can only take deep breaths, kissing the top of Grace’s head countless times, trying to calm himself down so as to not break down crying while holding his baby.

It’s an emotional sight, even for you , now that you are watching your two favourite people reunite, feeling your heart beating stronger in your chest, as if it’s being refilled with love again, after so many insecurities pooling over your head lately. 

And your daughter’s cries quickly turn into an excited gasp that leaves her lips, forgetting about all the sadness that she was carrying lately - now being substituted by happiness, the genuine type, from having her father near her again.

Soon enough, the toddler is jumping on the mattress, giggling loud as she celebrates the fact that daddy is home again, and now he can have tea parties with her, she can show him how she has mastered all the techniques he has taught her about riding her pink bike, watch her favourite cartoons with her on the sofa, and do everything that the girl has been wanting to do with him while he was away. 

Lewis giggles for a moment, before feeling a weight sinking in his chest again, remembering how he can’t do any of that with his princess, because he will leave again in a few hours. 

- Daddy! Can we go see the cute ducks at the lake tomorrow? Mummy took me there the other day, and there are little ones now! You need to see them, they are sooo cute!! - Her excited tone, mixed with the puppy eyes that she is giving him, are enough to break the man’s heart. And he knows that his next words are about to break his daughter’s heart as well.

Sighing, he tries his hardest to find the right words to say it, but it’s like his brain just forgot every single one of them. 

- Daddy can’t make it tomorrow, love. - the little girl furrows her eyebrows, not really understanding what her dad is trying to say. - Are you tired from the trip back home, daddy? It’s okay, we can go the day after tomorrow. We can just stay home and have a tea party instead? - her cute smile is just making everything hurt even more for him.  - Bubs, daddy is only home for today. I have a day off work and came back to see you and mummy, but I have to leave again after you go to sleep tonight. - there it is, the words that he didn’t want to say, and the ones that no one in the room wanted to hear. 

Your head hangs low as you hear it. Deep down, you already knew it. You knew it, as soon as you saw the bag that clearly showed that he wasn’t going to stay for long, when neither of you wanted to talk about the day he had to leave you two again. And now, you know why. 

His words hit Grace like a million bricks, the poor little girl being met with reality once again as she tries her best to hold back the tears that still slide down her cheeks. 

- You don’t love me anymore! You don’t want to spend time with me anymore! - the toddler screams before running away from her dad, hiding in between the four safe, pink walls of her room. 

And again, Lewis is met with his daughter’s harsh words, that are enough to tear his entire world apart. He gets up from the bed, wanting to go meet his child again, only to be stopped by your hand, touching his chest in a silent ‘don’t’. He too can see the disappointment evident in your eyes before you break eye contact, turning your back on him as you go to your daughter’s room. 

Your husband sits on the edge of the bed again, his head in his hands as he rethinks every small decision that he has ever made, questioning why his schedule has to be so chaotic, why life can’t ease up on him a little more, so he can have some more time for his family. At this point, he doesn’t know what he can do to be better, to make things right, to make it easier for everybody, knowing for a fact that he has, above all, been failing his family lately: failing you as a husband, failing Grace as her father. 

Opening the door of your shared bedroom a little bit, he can hear his baby’s loud cries again, as you hold her close in your chest, trying your best to calm her down again - something that has become a part of your routine already. And the sounds, the mental picture of what’s happening behind Grace’s bedroom door is enough to break him, to make some tears fall from his eyes as well as he clenches his fist, absolutely hating this entire situation, cursing himself from having to leave his family so soon. 

Grace doesn’t know how to deal with these new emotions that have been erupting through her small figure lately. All she knows is that she is sad, very sad. And very confused with her dad’s agenda, not understanding why this is making her chest hurt, only making her cry out more, feeling scared with the discomfort that these newfound emotions provide her. 

Tired of hearing his princess cry while staying still in his bedroom without doing anything to help or to make it better, Lewis decides to step up, gaining the courage to walk to the toddler’s room.

Knocking on the door gently, he hopes to be met with a ‘come in’. But instead, he is met with a loud ‘I don’t want to see you!’ coming from his daughter’s mouth, hearing how you reprimand her due to the attitude she is giving him, now. There’s a desperate sigh escaping Lewis’ lips now, but still, he decides to ignore Grace’s words, walking inside the room. 

Once he does, the toddler immediately hides her face in your chest again, trying her best not to look at her dad’s face, keeping her words. 

- Grace, please look at me - Lewis asks her with a serious tone, crouching down so he is eye leveled with the kid. But still, all he gets in return is silence, and the girl only hides her face further into the crook of your neck. 

Rubbing his features with his hands almost desperately, he looks up at you, giving you a pleading glance, needing your help with this - begging you to forget about how sad and disappointed you are feeling at him now as well, so you can help him solve this problem with your daughter now. 

With a tired sigh, you give in. 

- Grace, look at your father - you say. Still, nothing. You know she is as stubborn as you are, but you absolutely hate when she is acting up this way. - Grace. - you say more sternly, catching the girl’s attention as she slowly turns to look at him, now. 

Once Lewis’ eyes meet his child’s again, the pain in both of their chests connects, feeling it in the exact same intensity. Taking in the sight of his daughter’s tear stained face is the worst part of it all. 

- Bubs, please listen to daddy carefully. - he starts speaking, feeling his voice cracking a bit, laced with the million different emotions surrounding his body as well.  - You know how you and mummy are going to move to the new house that daddy got in Italy, right baby? I even showed you pictures of your new room and everything - he asks Grace, trying to give her a calm, light tone. The girl nods her head, not really in the mood to talk now.  - So, daddy needs to go because I am preparing everything so you can move there as fast as possible love, so we can spend every day together again. - the thought of having his family next to him all day, every day again, makes a small smile appear in the man’s face.  - But you are never home anymore. You can leave that house and come here! And you don’t want to play with me anymore. - the toddler finally speaks up, finding a perfectly reasonable solution for the problem. 

Lewis tries to get closer to the little girl, his fingers gently touching her small hand, hoping she will give in a bit, so she can better understand what’s going on and hug him again in no time. 

- Princess, my favourite thing in this world is to play with you. Tea parties, riding our bikes, you painting my nails, watching ducks at the lake, you name it. My favourite time in this world is the time I get to spend by your side - he admits, being completely transparent as he looks right into the toddler’s eyes. - You know daddy loves you more than anything in this entire world, bubs. 

The three-year-old slowly nods her head ‘yes’. She does know that her dad loves her more than anything, but she is still hurt. 

- I promise everything will get easier, princess. I’m doing everything I can so we can be together everyday again really, really fast, okay? Please forgive me, my love. Daddy never wanted to hurt you - landing a small kiss on her cheek, his hands caress her hair as the little girl moves in your lap, stretching her small arms to hug her daddy. 

And once Lewis is able to hold his princess in his arms again, everything feels a bit more right, as if the toddler has the power to glue the pieces of his heart together. The only things that can be heard in the room are muffled ‘I love you, bubs’, ‘I love you so much’, that Lewis keeps whispering to his daughter, to which Grace quietly replies ‘I love you too, daddy’. 

Today, there were no tea parties, the kid didn’t paint her dad’s nails, they didn’t go to see the ducks at the lake. Instead, they ate the toddler’s favourite breakfast together, at home, and decided to just spend the entire day cuddling on the sofa, enjoying the time together as a family, playing some small games, singing songs, dancing in the middle of the living room, to an extent that loud giggles would erupt through the walls.

After dinner, the air grows heavy again, as the three of you know that the day

is coming to an end, and that Lewis won’t be home again once you and your daughter wake up. 

The man carries Grace safely in his arms, her tiny limbs strongly wrapped around his neck as well, as they reach the toddler’s bedroom. Now, you decided to let them have this moment to themselves, waiting downstairs for your husband to come back. 

Tucking his princess in bed as he usually does, the biggest kiss lands on the little girl’s forehead, ready to scare all monsters away, so she can have the most peaceful of sleeps, with the sweetest of dreams. 

- Have a nice night of sleep, my love - Lewis says, trying not to show how this goodbye is killing him, playing it off with a smile. 

However, he notices the kid’s big chocolate eyes looking up at him attentively. 

- Please come back fast, daddy. I feel so cold without you here. And mummy misses you too - the toddler whispers, almost on the verge of crying again. 

Lewis needs to swallow the lump forming in his throat again, staying silent for a second as he takes in his daughter’s words. 

- I promise I’ll be fast, bubs. You’ll be in your new room, in our new house, in no time. I promise - he shows her his pinky finger, knowing how serious Gracie takes pinky promises. 

The fact that her daddy is pinky promising her that they will be together again soon, makes a sparkle appear in the girl’s eyes, as she wraps her own pinky around his. 

- I love you so, so much, princess. More than anything in this world. Never doubt that - he insists, kissing her forehead again before giving her another bear hug.  - I love you too, daddy. And please make sure that my new bedroom has the right shade of pink in the walls - the three-year-old jokes, lightening the mood as her dad gets up from her bed.  - I will, baby. I will - he giggles lightly, before blowing one last kiss to his biggest reason to live, closing the door behind him. 

Lewis takes a moment before coming downstairs again, wiping away some of the tears that escaped his eyes. Saying goodbye to little Gracie is always the hardest, and definitely the worst part. 

Finally meeting you in the living room, the man completely breaks down as you engulf him in your arms, noticing how much of a wreck he is. You let him cry in your arms, staying silent as he apologizes over and over again to you. For not being home as much, for not having many days off of work, for failing you when you need him the most. 

At this moment, he starts thinking that maybe you were right all along. He should have slowed down already, he should have left F1 behind, dedicating himself to his other projects and especially to his family, which needs him so much. But he couldn’t say no to the opportunity of joining Ferrari, putting his dreams in front of everything else. 

This might only be temporary, until you and Grace finally meet him in Italy, but you are sure that you can’t keep up doing this for much longer, now. 

- Things can’t continue like this, Lewis - you tell him, hot tears sliding down your cheeks as well, now.  - I know, love. I know. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make everything right. In a blink of an eye, the three of us will be together in our new home, baby. Please, just be a little more patient with me - he begs, his arms wrapping tighter around your silhouette as he voices his pleads. 

You sigh. You know you will end up giving in, but you can only take so much, and now, there’s not a day that you aren’t concerned about the future of your family. 

- Just don’t let this sport break you, baby. Don’t let them take you from us. We need you so, so much - you confess, seeing Lewis nod as his tears match yours, holding you in his chest as you mourn the time you had for each other. 

Before he has to leave, he makes sure to cuddle you extra close in bed, your words echoing in his mind to the point where he feels like he could drown in them, dying in your arms as you fall into a peaceful sleep in his chest, almost as if he will still be by your side once you wake up. 

But you know he will leave during the night. And so, while you have the privilege to fall asleep in his chest, you trick your mind to dream about him, so you can have him twice, making sure that, one way or another, he will still be with you once you wake up in the morning. 

In your absence, everything is suspended for Lewis. Your husband is so addicted to seeing you, that he just daydreams about your figure being right by his side, inventing you everywhere, feeding the void that the distance insists in creating between him and his family.

He hates it, he really does. But unfortunately, there’s nothing he can do right now. He wishes he could make a call and cancel all his responsibilities for the rest of the week, spending all day by his girls’ side. But he can’t. And right now, he can only pray for you to be even more patient, until the day you are together again, in your new house.

Tucking you in bed with a forehead kiss, the man leaves your shared room, feeling all the weight coming back to his shoulders as he picks up his bag, leaving his happiness behind as he travels back to his job, leaving his heart behind, in his home in the human shapes of you and Gracie, wanting to be right where his family is. 

[musingsofmajesty]

𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐈

summary now that you’ve kissed, the two of you can’t help but wonder what it means moving forward. Luckily, it’s so easy being with each other that taking it day by day doesn’t seem half bad | wc 1.1k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

If it’s one thing shy!eddie knows well, it’s labels. They’ve been forced on him all his life. But this—whatever has blossomed between the two of you—he can’t quite pin down. And the universe sure as hell isn’t gonna step in and do it for him. For once, the cards are in his hands, and he doesn’t know what to do with them. 

Later that night, he walks you out to your car, and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done. The feeling of your lips still lingers on his. He’s never wanted anyone to stay as badly as right now.

Nevertheless, you hug him one last time, and he gets the door for you without second thought because he’s always done so. Even before you made butterflies a permanent fixture in his stomach. 

“Thanks, Teddy,” you lilt as you settle behind the wheel. “Can I call you that?” You’re teasing, but only partly.  His blush is evident in the glow of the streetlamps that illuminate Forest Hills against the night. 

He hasn’t heard that nickname since it came past his mother’s lips when he was a boy. He smiles a little, lifts a shoulder as if he’s more indifferent than he is. “If you want," he says. 

You’re quiet for a beat, then cutely scrunch your nose up at him. “But what do you want?”  Eddie blinks like he hasn’t heard the likes of this question in a long while. 

“You can call me Teddy,” he decides. You could call him Edward for all he cared. Whatever you wanted, really. That’s when he realizes he’s in trouble. The best kind. 

Shy!Eddie who can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happens, but realizes he’s begun to pay more mind to the way he looks—undoubtedly because of you. One morning at 7 AM, his Uncle Wayne knocks on the bathroom door. Inside, he hears the startled sound of a tub of hair gel tumbling into the sink. “Shit—I’ll be out in a second!” 

An affectionate smirk pulls at Wayne's lips. “Guess I'll use it outside like a dog,” he jokes.  

Later that day, as Mrs. O’Donnell lectures the class, Eddie feels you poke the end of your pencil into the side of his ribcage from where you sit behind him. The way he straightens makes you smile, and he shoots a discreet glance over his shoulder to see what you want. Except your gaze is cast out the window in feigned innocence. 

Three minutes later, he curls in on himself as the ticklish pokes start up again. This time, you pass him a ripped piece of notebook paper that features your neat, bubbly handwriting: hi, handsome ;) 

All Eddie can do is helplessly flush with warmth. 

A couple weeks later, as you’re painting your nails on your best friend’s bedroom floor, you think aloud, “Me and Eddie.” Robin peers down at you from her bed, where she absentmindedly braids a strand of her hair. “I think we’re a sure thing.” 

Her brows lift in surprise. “So you’re official?” 

You purse your lips in consideration. “No, we’re just…us.” 

Robin frowns at first, but eventually nods because, maybe, that’s all love was ever meant to be. Unadulterated in the sense that it could never be bogged down to titles and definitions. 

“Sweet,”  she finally says. 

You nod and begin to smile at the thought of him. The way he gives you his full attention whether you’re talking about life at large or your day. The way he bites back his own goofy smile whenever he unintentionally makes you laugh—which happens all the time. The way he’s welcomed you into his little world.

You’re remiss that you weren’t braver sooner. 

“Yeah,” you agree in a wistful exhale. It is pretty sweet. You raise your hand to gently blow over the sheer pink polish coated on your fingertips. 

Like clockwork, the dismissal bell sounds to denote the end of yet another school day. A few more months, and you'll be kissing these stuffy, bustling halls goodbye.

Eddie catches up with you at your locker and asks if you’d like to go hang out with him in the woods behind the school. It’s nice out today. 

You narrow your eyes as you shut the metal door. “So was this your plan all along? Get my guard down so you can lure me into the woods and go in for the kill?” 

He knows you’re joking, but his answer is sincere anyway. His big bambi eyes dark and gooey as he says, “Never. No way.”

There’s a picnic table nestled amidst the tall trees, as it turns out. A calming breeze glides through the branches and rustles their leaves. Eddie sits first and expects you to choose the bench across from him, but you sit on the same side. You want to be near him. He can’t complain.

A comfortable silence settles between you that he eventually breaks. “Used to come out here a whole lot," he says. “I’d write songs or sit and listen to music," he lists. "Enjoy the scenery…” his words fade as his eyes settle back on you. There’s a tender depth to your gaze. 

He smiles a bit self-consciously, but he's not exactly embarrassed. More so hyperaware because you always make him feel so seen. “What?” he murmurs. 

Without a single word, you scoot closer to press your lips to his. One of his hands rise to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin. This kiss is different. Deeper. Unlike your usual affectionate pecks in every way. 

Warmth kindles in your stomach when his initial hesitancy dissipates. As he finds his way, his lips move sure and easy against your own. Plush and warm. You can feel his gentle exhales puff from his nose, and against your own desire, you slowly begin to pull away to ensure all this is alright.  

But Eddie’s okay. He’s more than okay. For the first time since he’s known you, he feels the soft tug of frustration in his chest. Except it’s not rooted in irritation. It’s rooted in want. 

When he leans back in, cheeks flushed and dark eyes hopeful, you let his lips just barely graze yours before you pull away. He tries again, and you lean back once more, flustered and excited by his newfound boldness. 

You place a gentle hand on his chest and chuckle despite yourself. “Easy, Teddy,” it’s a honeyed warning that carries no bite. 

“C’mere,” he insists, a pout on his face even though it's threatened by a smile. "Wanna kiss you." His voice drops low and shy, like it's a secret.

When you giggle, butterflies aflutter in your stomach, he takes it upon himself to hold you steady and kiss the sweet sound from your lips. 

The two of you are a sure thing, indeed.

Thanks for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ♡

a/n making this a series because I can't get enough of these two. Stay tuned for the formal announcement!

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[fluffy-leech]

[ID: Two pages from Star Trek: The New Voyages, reading:

Introduction to The Enchanted Pool, by Nichelle Nichols. Not only in the "bloopers" is Uhura occasionally temped to say, "Mr. Spock, sugah." She has been known to tease him, even in song, and she is hardly the only one, present or future, who would be delighted to find some enchantment by which to disturb his Vulcan cool. More seriously, Uhura is often seen today as a symbol of women and their role in the Star Trek universe, and as her alter ego I am often asked to speak on that role. In fact, it is a question that has interested me and one that Uhura and I plan to deal with in a book now in progress with the editors of this anthology. It was, of course, the intention of the creator of Star Trek to show not only the beauty of differences but also the delight in the diversities as well as the similarities of women; to show them as capable of responsibility, achievement, initiative, courage, compassion—fellow beings reaching for nobility, heroic in their quest. For instant, the story of "Number One," the female second-in-command, played so beautifully in the first pilot of Star Trek by Majel Barrett, was always inspiring. "Nurse" Chapel was, in fact, a doctor and researcher in her own right. Uhura, likewise, was highly respected as exceedingly qualified in her field, and a first-rate officer, even by the exacting standards of Mr. Spock. She was regarded as quite capable of saving the entire spaceship because of her expertise, and in a punch, fully able to hold her own as a "gladiator." The Enterprise has security "men" who were women, and ran into doctors, lawyers, and Indian chiefs who were women—commanders, matriarchs and the like. If Star Trek ever lapsed from that standard—and it must be admitted that even Uhura was heard of complain about saying, "Hailing frequencies open, sir," for the umteenth time—we should still remember that it was only Star Trek that began to set that standard, long before we heard much about it in our real world. I can't help believing that Star Trek was a forerunner in the real world for the inevitable movements for liberation for anyone who ever felt misclassified by form or face or color or creed. We have come a long way since the last of the old voyages, and I think we would not have come to far without them. We till have a long way to go. But I see people working to get there. (It is significant that many of them are women; for example, the writers and editors of these stories.) So long as we are still working, writing, talking, thinking, loving, we are under way on warp drive to the world and the future we want. These are the new voyages…. And they may be just a little different. Logical, Mr. Spock, sugah. P.S. Hailing frequencies still open, Cap'n Honey.

End ID]

Mr. Spock, sugah & Cap'n Honey 😁😍

[illuminatedferret]

About TGCF Canon: I just realized that the missions Jun Wu gives to Xie Lian are very disadvantageous for Xie Lian.

He immediately butted heads with Pei Ming on Mt. Yu Jun (PM's own territory) and on Ban Yue missions, both striking where it's most personal: PM's ex-lovers and family matters.

Next is Ghost City, and I'm certain it's to sour the relationship between him and Hua Cheng with LQQ's loud righteousness right in the middle of Ghost City, infamous for its inhumane atmosphere. Additionally, "Ming Yi" was already 'a spy for the heavens' in Ghost City, so the risk of offending HC and/or Ghost City is very, very high.

I think JW's refusal to banish XL (Fangxin Guoshi) was also partially to stoke more fire between XL and LQQ (or, potentially, with everyone else as this puts distinction between XL and other gods by this point; LQQ already thought it doesn't matter if XL was banished again or not anyway)

And then Brocade Immortal; JW told XL to go with Quan Yizhen, infamous for not playing well with other gods / not sociable / fights even his own followers. I also don't doubt that this is to have XL and Ling Wen's "good coworkers" relationship go downhill.

Which means, JW tried to pit XL against literally all the major martial gods (other than FX and MQ who, logically from outside PoV, already have a strained relationship with XL), The major civil goddess, and the most powerful ghost king/supreme.

...Insane.

(Bonus: if Shi Wudu's impending heavenly calamity timing was also by Jun Wu's design, JW also managed to pit XL against SQX (friends) and SWD, both major elemental gods and also Black Water (the other calamity) in one fell swoop...

I count this separately bc we don't know if the timing is actually by JW's design. Plus HX has nothing against XL, and SQX/SWD has no prior connection to XL. In short: if Black Water Arc had happened before XL's third ascension, it'd just happen the exact same way without XL... which makes the timing suspicious, especially the closeness to Mt Tonglu's reopening. I have a headcanon about this but that's kind of a different topic)

-🍁

Yes to all of this! Jun Wu was definitely angling to create conflict between Xie Lian and his peers in the heavens, and I think he had two goals in doing so. The first was to isolate him by sabotaging his relationships, and the second was, I believe, to show Xie Lian the worst of the heavens and to encourage resentment towards them.

I don't think the /timing/ of Shi Wudu's Heavenly Tribulation is suspect, just because we're never given any suggestions in-novel that it's possible to manipulate the timing of Tribulations like that (and I think it would have come up), but He Xuan finding out about the fate swap was definitely Jun Wu's machinations! Hualian talk with Mei Nianqing a little about this- holding onto that piece of information until he wanted to get rid of Shi Wudu, then letting He Xuan discover it. In the end it's getting rid of two birds with one stone- remove the Water Tyrant, who was getting a bit too big for his britches, and Shi Qingxuan, who was Xie Lian's only friend in the heavens.

Also, you may not want to go into the opening of Mount Tonglu, but I do! Jun Wu absolutely timed that. I don't care how bad of luck Xie Lian has, that the ghost rut started right when Xie Lian was alone with a Supreme ghost?? He was definitely hoping Xie Lian would get hurt in some way, and his relationship with Hua Cheng would be ruined. No way that wasn't him. There's this ongoing reflection I have with TGCF after reading it for the first time where I look back and realize how much of Xie Lian's 'bad luck' is actually Jun Wu. When you learn about the second shackle, you think it's just that, but no, it's the all-powerful man in the sky who's obsessed with you and wants you to suffer and be his Junior. It's fucked up.

[markleessodalite]

Empty: p.js

content: you bring your bf!jisung to dinner with your parents, which ends up going horribly wrong (yet exactly how he expected). fem!reader x idol!jisung

warnings: lots of arguing, y/n has lots of family issues (particularly mommy issues), very moody jisung, y/n is kind of lowk not that smart, not a heartwarming moment at any point in this lol

wc: 2.4k

a/n: this kind of fic is pretty out of the realm of what i usually enjoy writing (angst and over 1k words lol) but after watching a particular show for the gazillionth time i was inspired to write this (try and guess what show to get nothing)

You fidget with the hem of your skirt before lacing your fingers together in your lap, forcing a smile as you make awkward eye contact with the sour frown worn by your mother. Her eyes move to the floor as she takes a sip of her wine. You look to your father, who returns an equally forced and awkward smile to you. 

“I’m sure he’ll be here any second…” you try to brush off the rigidness of the moment, this setting, the same rigidness you’ve always felt growing up in this rigid house with your rigid parents, but the slight tremble in your voice gives your concern away. Jisung was supposed to meet you at your parents’ house tonight to meet them for the first time– after you begged him for hours on end until he reluctantly agreed. 

He had heard plenty of horror stories straight from your own mouth about how cold and unforgiving your parents were. How they never uttered a kind word to you, or placed a comforting hand on you. Rarely looked at you unless they were scolding you for not sitting properly or for talking too much or laughing too loud. Jisung’s jaw was on the floor when you told him that you couldn’t even recognize your father until you were 8 years old because he was always at work or in his home office, and you could only recognize your mother out of fear instinct. You told him how they were ashamed when you couldn’t hack it at your expensive private high school, disappointed when you graduated from a trade school instead of an ivy league university, and how any success you experience that you share with them is met with condescending confusion and passive-aggressive comments about your wasted potential. 

So Jisung was more than completely lost when you insisted that he come with you to dinner at your parents’ house. But after you explained that they’re still your parents, and this was important to you, and so on and so on, he promised you he’d be there. 

But he didn’t mention that he would be an hour late. 

Surely he remembered you warning him about how easy it is to leave a bad impression on your incredibly high-strung parents, right? You told him the exact time he’d be expected there, and even watched as he set a reminder on his phone. 

Your father looks out the window, the white blankets of snow seeming a lot warmer than the stiff couch you were sitting on. “He’s probably stuck in this awful weather. I swear, it snows the tiniest bit and suddenly everyone in the area forgets how to drive.” 

“A little bit of traffic wouldn’t cause anyone with a working brain to be an hour late.” Your mother sets her wine down, the clink of the glass on the coaster making you wince. 

“I’m sure he’s rushing to get here, mom.” You rummage through your purse, looking for your phone. “Maybe I should call–” 

“Do not call him, y/n,” your mother scolds you, “if he is driving, you should not distract him with a phone call. It’s dangerous.”

“Sorry.” You place your hands back in your lap. You then remember that he’s taking the subway anyway, so you could call him if you wanted to. But you decide it’s not worth trying to correct your mother.

“Honey, I’m starving.” Your father pours himself another glass of wine.

“We are not eating until y/n’s guest arrives, that’s rude.”

“He’s already an hour late, so I’ve already been hungry for an hour more than necessary.”

“We do not begin eating a meal before the guest arrives, dear.” 

“Well I certainly don’t want to wait another hour!”

You ignore your parents bickering and pull out your phone, just to double check if Jisung texted you or tried to call, but it's just the same vague message he sent before.

Practice ran long, frustrating day, might be late

Just as you toss your phone onto the couch, you hear the doorbell. You ignore your father’s muttering and your mother scolding you for rushing to answer (apparently, a lady never rushes). 

You open the door to see your boyfriend, although you almost don’t recognize him with the deep eyebags and uncharacteristic frown he’s sporting.

“Ji? What’s wrong, are you okay?” 

“I just wanna get this over with.” He walks past you without another word, or even a glance in your direction. 

After you get over a few seconds of being stunned by your boyfriend’s behavior, you shut the door and walk with him towards the living room. “Jisung, what’s wrong, honey?” No response. You lace your arm in his, which is usually a surefire way to get a smile from him. But now, nothing.

“Ji.” You pull him against the wall before your parents spot you. “I know you had a bad day, and I’m sorry about that, but just… take a deep breath and refocus, okay baby? Because you definitely can’t meet my parents looking this pouty.” 

Jisung sighs, then plasters a lazy, disingenuous smile on his face. “Okay.”

~~~

After uncomfortable introductions and Jisung offering an apathetic apology for his tardiness, you were sat at the dinner table across from your boyfriend, who clearly would rather be anywhere else right now and was too exhausted to hide it.

“So, Jisung,” your father breaks the ice, “y/n says that you’re a dancer.”

“No, dad, I said he’s an idol.”

Your father just stares at you.

“He’s an idol, he’s not just a dancer.”

He keeps staring at you, now furrowing his brows as if you’re speaking a foreign language. 

“So he also sings, and raps, and goes on tours and a whole bunch of other stuff, dad.” 

“I do dance, though. So I can be considered a dancer.” Jisung finally contributes, although it feels more like he’s correcting you than chatting with your father. 

“That’s nice. I’ve always admired dancers. I, for one, don’t have a rhythmic bone in my body.” Your father laughs at himself. 

“Well, it's nice for a hobby.” Your mother’s fork scrapes across her plate, and you see Jisung’s eye twitch at the grating noise. “So what are your career plans?”

Jisung looks over at you, silently pleading for your help. “Uh, what do you mean?”

“You do have a career in mind, don’t you?”

“Mom–”

“Well, my idol career is going pretty great, and I don’t see it ending anytime soon.” Jisung tries to smile, but it bounces off your mother’s tight-lipped grimace. 

“Yes, but dancing–” she says the word as if it's a vulgar swear– “isn’t really a career. Surely you have an actual prospect lined up.”

“Mom, we just had this conversation. He does a lot more than dance, it's not just a hobby.” 

“Does he make decent money?”

You look at Jisung, noticing how he’s consciously refraining from rolling his eyes. “Yes, he does, and that is a totally inappropriate question, mother.” 

“It certainly is an appropriate question, y/n,” your father scolds you, “if this man is intending to be serious with you, then we must make sure he is good enough for you.” 

“Good enough?” Jisung echoes your father, not breaking eye contact with you.

“It's no offense to you, Jisung, you understand. She’s our daughter, it's our duty to ensure she has a stable, comfortable life.”

“And that’s worked out well up to this point, hasn’t it?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, completely shocked at the sarcasm dripping from Jisung’s voice.

“Well we certainly tried, but she was never exactly receptive.” Your mother’s tone is just as condescending as ever, but you’re too busy staring at your boyfriend in disbelief to notice. “We gave her everything she needed growing up, yet still, she was always getting into trouble. Staying out past curfew, skipping school with those hoodlum friends of hers, bringing home substandard boys…”

“Mom.”

“Clearly that hasn’t changed.”

“Mom! Stop!”

“Substandard. Wow.” Jisung laughs under his breath. 

“Oh, excuse me one moment–” your father rushes to answer the phone ringing in his study– “I need to take this call.”

“How could you make a comment like that, mom? You don’t even know Jisung!”

“I know your type, y/n.”

“You know him? You asked him a single question, refused to understand his answer, and you somehow decided that you don’t like him? You know nothing about him!”

“I don’t need to, I know you. You always go for these types, boys who have no manners, don’t know how to have a conversation, and haven’t put a single thought into their future.”

“That is not anything like Jisung!”

“Isn’t it? He shows up an hour late with no warning or explanation, he sits there pouting as if he doesn’t even want to be here, and he lets you do all the talking for him, when he’s not muttering to himself like a moody child.”

“It's been, like, 10 minutes, and you’ve already decided you don’t like him. I think that’s a record, even for you, mom.” 

“Honestly, y/n. Don’t you see how this is embarrassing for us? For our daughter to keep making mistake after mistake, constantly making a fool of herself, acting as if she’s had no discipline her entire life?” 

You turn to look at Jisung, and that’s when you finally realized he snuck away at some point unnoticed. “Mom, I don’t care. I’m leaving.” 

“For once, y/n, you should think about how your decisions make your father and I look!”

You ignore your mother’s ranting as you gather your coat and purse, walking out the front door without a goodbye. You step into the driveway to see Jisung, leaning against the hood of your car, hands in his jacket pockets, snow melting into his hair. 

You approach him, rubbing his arm gently, but it elicits no response from him. 

“I’m so sorry, Ji. I hate that they treated you that way.”

He looks you in the eye, but doesn’t say a word. His eyes meet the ground again.

“I really… I don’t know. I thought after all these years, after them always trying to decide things for me, and me always going against it, I thought they could finally see something good happen to me and just… be happy for me, you know?”

He still doesn’t say anything. Just nods, so little you almost miss it. 

“I really am sorry. I had no idea they would do that to you–”

“Oh come on, y/n, yes you did!” Jisung tears your hand from his arm, moving away to stand tall next to your parents’ tacky topiaries. “I didn’t even want to come to this stupid dinner, but you insisted, and you just let them treat me like I was too dirty to even enter their house or something!” 

You stand still, your legs feeling like they’re made of lead. “Why are you yelling at me? It's not like its my fault–”

“It is your fault! God, just think for a second, y/n! You were the one warning me about how horrible your parents are and how they’d never accept me, you can’t act shocked when they behave the exact way you knew they would.” He runs a hand through his hair, now refusing to even look in your direction, or at anything other than the asphalt under his feet. “And I told you that I would probably be tired after practice today anyway, but you still made me come here. And I had a really shitty day, practice ran late because of me being an idiot and not getting the choreography, and then I had to rush in the stupid snow to get here and listen to two people I don’t even like tell me how inadequate I am. As if I didn’t already know that.”

“Jisung–” 

“I think I’m gonna stay at my parents’ house tonight.”

You cross your arms, trying to swallow back the sobs that were forming in your throat. “You’re not coming home?”

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t really wanna face you right now. I don’t wanna face the guys either after I ruined their days too. I just need to be alone I think.” He finally looks at you, his jaw tight, eyes glossy. “Can I leave now?”

You nod, which shakes a few tears loose from your eyes, but Jisung turns around too fast to notice.

“Ji, let me give you a ride, its freezing.”

“Its fine. I survived taking the subway here, I can do it again.” He calls back to you, without even turning to look at you. You just stare at his back as he walks off, his steps looking heavy on the icy sidewalk. 

You hear the front door open behind you. “He’s leaving?” Your mother’s voice has never sounded so ugly to your ears. “He throws a fit and leaves. How fitting you would find a boy so similar to yourself.” 

Before you can retort, she hands you your phone, which you didn’t realize you had left on the couch in your rush out the door. “You better get going, the snow is going to get worse. I’ll tell your father goodbye for you.” 

Your phone feels like a brick loosely held in your hand, now freezing from the gentle attacks of snow flurries. Your mother shuts the door while you watch Jisung’s shadow walk further and further out of reach. You climb into your car, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you sit in the driver's seat, noticing just how empty it feels without Jisung in the passenger seat. How empty your home is going to feel when you enter without him. How empty your bed will feel when you try to sleep without him. How empty the home you grew up in always was, no matter how many people were in there. How the night you met Jisung at your friend’s house party, and you talked in the empty backyard alone for hours and hours, was the first time in your life you didn’t really feel empty anymore. 

Your mouth feels dry. You grab the water bottle in your cup holder, but it's empty. As you drive the long way home, you contemplate if you should make a stop to buy some water or just wait until you get there, when you spot Jisung walking down into the subway. His posture exhausted, his expression completely empty.

[tens-converse]

a really long rant about why this comment is wrong

i have talked about this time and time again, but the way the doctor who fandom treats donna is so weird.

“[donna] and her character are both arrogant and unpleasant.”

first of all, let’s discuss the “arrogant” portion of this statement.

donna noble has a hard exterior. she has been so put down in her life that her shell is the only thing that she feels will protect her from anymore heartbreak and disappointment! she acts aloof and above others because she feels the exact OPPOSITE. it is proven time and time again that donna feels deeply for others and has even put herself in actual life threatening situations because she CARES that much about others. it also makes no sense to call her arrogant when half of her lines are her demeaning herself and her arc is literally her acceptance of the fact that she IS special and she CAN BE worth something to someone.

second of all, unpleasant? what i’ve found is that donna haters say unpleasant to mean “not complacent in every idiotic idea the doctor has.” its misogyny at its finest. they want donna to be head over heels and awed by everything the doctor does. when she treats him as an equal, they hate it because they’re so used to the women in doctor who thinking the doctor is all knowing and amazing. donna saw him for how he really was before she got his persona.

the thing about donna and the doctor is they are two sides of the same coin. one knows he’s supposed to be important and has a hard time coping with that, and one is convinced she can never be seen as anything but a failure to other people. they both put on a mask of false confidence, but they both understand that neither is okay.

“constant bad behavior and insults are [donna’s] idea of fun.”

yeah, and so is ten’s. that’s why they work so well together. he loved every conversation and argument they had. he held her in such high regard and their banter was a part of what he loved so much about her. it set her apart from other companions. it kept him in check, it made him reevaluate his ego and decisions. not to mention that “bad behavior” and those insults stopped him from literally offing himself.

in conclusion:

the doctor would hate this person, the doctor would hate a lot of the people in this fandom who mistreat and mischaracterize donna. a lot of you are way to comfortable perpetuating misogyny. this isn’t the first time i’ve seen comments like this made about her. i’ve even seen whovians on here be awful about her and disgustingly mischaracterize both her AND the doctor’s feelings about her. i’m tired of seeing it!

[cervvsq]

rules. — ii

part i

summary: the aftermath of coriolanus’ doings causes many unsolved problems between the two of you, and your marriage needs to heal.

warnings: talk of sex but no actual smut, you dealing with the consequences of what happened to you, angst, swearing, ends in fluff 😇

masterlist

sighing, you shut the door to your bedroom, kicking off your heels and walking into your large closet. once again, another painfully awkward dinner with your dear husband.

stopping in your tracks, your eyes landed on the box sat on your vanity, the material already looking expensive from afar. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

another one.

stalking towards the millionth gift, your fingers delicately unraveled the silky ribbons.

it was beautiful, you had to admit.

a thin band of gold created a glistening yet classy necklace, with a small clover in the middle. the exact one you and clemensia were chatting excitedly about during last night’s dinner with associates.

must be a coincidence.

those 4 words were on repeat in your mind frequently now. especially every time the product you barely mentioned ended up on your vanity table the next day and every time your lips dared to tug up into smile at your husband’s antics.

no amount of financial gain he could grant would be close to the amount of pain he had caused.

it was a harsh reminder at times. that you couldn’t see him the same as before. and oh, how badly did you want to.

to forgive him, to go back to how it was.

before the awkward silences in car rides.

before rushing to go to sleep before he comes to bed.

but no. even if you had some form of love for him, it wasn’t enough to falter the absolute loathing you felt towards him sometimes.

the pure hatred you felt for letting him take advantage of you that night. in your most vulnerable state.

the pure hatred you felt for yourself every time you looked at your bare body, knowing he had ruined it. he had chewed you up and spit you out, leaving a memory of the girl who viewed herself as a siren.

so no, his little gifts didn’t bring much joy anymore.

as if another fucking necklace is going to make up for what he’s done. it sure wasn’t the first thing around your neck lately. hell, maybe he should stab you and buy a new dress, then everything will be fine—

“i take it the necklace is not to your liking.”

his voice ripped you out of your frustrating thoughts. your narrowed eyes and fingertips digging into the leather box snitched on your inner feelings. turning around, you faked a smile for what felt like the tenth time today.

“it’s beautiful. thank you.” your teeth gritted, “it’s the… third piece of jewellery this week.”

coriolanus matched your tight smile. “yes, well, my wife can never have too much fashion items. what else would you and clemensia giggle about?” he tried to diffuse the tension.

you didn’t laugh. instead, you nodded, your smile dropping as you turned around and placed the box somewhere it will only be merely glanced at. he didn’t need to know that.

the last thing you heard from coriolanus was a small sigh, before he walked into the bathroom.

no more words were shared for the rest of the night.

ᥫ᭡ 4 days later

5 times.

5 times did you have to endure adding another present to your shelves. at this rate, you would need a new room dedicated to his gifts.

you found yourself wondering why he was doing this. were they meant to be apologies? that nearly made you laugh.

it angered you, not knowing why. did he feel guilty? he must do, why else would he bawl in your arms the next day?

you thought about that moment a lot. more so than the actual assault. it had perplexed you, really. sometimes it disturbed you.

how he could go to hitting you, screaming in your face, punishing you — to staining your skin with his poisonous tears.

“‘m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry,” he had cried. the sound of his wracking sobs made your heart clench, even if the very man you had tried to love destroyed you.

nevertheless, you were sick and tired of adding another bracelet, another pair of heels, or another goddamn dress to your shelves.

so imagine your surprise when yet another box of whatever luxury item he had bought showed up on your vanity.

you could not care less at whatever contents it held.

letting your nails dig into your palms and your expression to harden, you strutted towards the prize. picking it up, you didn’t spare another glance at anything else as you quickly paced towards coriolanus’ office.

usually, you would knock first. it was what a proper wife does, to not disturb her husband. now, you hoped with every morsel in your body you did disturb him.

slamming the box onto his desk, you ignored his dumbfounded expression.

“i want you to send this back. and every other gift you’ve bought for me recently.” you breathed heavily, shooting daggers at him.

his floored look only lasted for a few seconds, and he lowered the papers in his hand. he now simply stared at you, calmer than ever.

“as you wish. i’ll get someone to escort it out of our room later.” he stated, before picking up his documents and scanning them again.

oh.

you felt rather foolish standing here now.

“…you’re not going to ask why?” you replied, now the stunned one.

he shook his head.

you let out an exasperated sigh. “coriolanus.”

he looked up, raising his eyebrows for you to continue.

blinking a few times, you were at a loss for words. “do you even care?”

there was a deeper meaning beneath your sudden question, and you both knew it. it had remained unspoken between the two of you, even if the tension had raised tenfold in the air.

setting down his papers once more, he cleared his throat. a habit of his you’d noticed whenever he was trying to remain being the one in control of the conversation.

“i have no problem if the clothes aren’t suitable enough for you—“

“that’s not what i meant.”

he paused. you tried not to look at the way his hands were trembling ever so slightly. “explain it to me, then.”

“you… i-” you sighed, now feeling helpless. “how long is it gonna be like this, coriolanus?”

you shouldn’t have came here. every logical part of your body was screaming at you to just walk out, leave him be. but you couldn’t. you had to save your marriage — even if it was you who needed saving.

he opened his mouth to speak, yet no words left his lips. for a moment, you almost felt scared. it’s not like before. you didn’t need to shudder with worry at the thought of saying the wrong thing, refusing to go anywhere private in fear of getting a cruel scolding, maybe even a harsh slap.

if you had barged into his office and bombarded him with these questions a few weeks ago, you would’ve already been bent over his lap getting called names you didn’t think a president would even know.

but instead of grabbing your hair and reminding you who’s in charge, he stood up, straightening his suit. “i have an important call i need to make at work.”

just leave! you told yourself, but you found your feet moving to stand in front of him before you could register.

“no, don’t walk out on me.” your voice was stubborn, refusing to let him go.

oh, how the tables had turned. weren’t you the one getting threatened not to leave every day? now look at you.

he didn’t care, simply walking past. “coriolanus.”

he picked up his briefcase.

“coriolanus!” you were pleading now.

he opened the door.

“coryo.”

he stopped. you fell silent.

that name hadn’t left your lips ever since the incident occurred. it was almost unknown to you now — a shadow of who he was.

as embarrassing as it felt, you felt tears pool in your eyes. he didn’t turn around.

you both stood there, his back to you, anticipation and uncertainty revolving around the room.

as much as you thought you despised him and his ways, you wanted nothing more than for him to turn around and tell you everything you needed to hear. how much he hurt you, how much you needed healing.

the only thing you received was a sigh and his footsteps receding down the hall.

ᥫ᭡ one day later

you and coriolanus hadn’t spoken much since that afternoon. another day had gone by, and you were exhausted. funny how he can find a way to tire you out even when he practically lives at work.

now, turning your bedside lamp off, the last step of your evening routine was to fall asleep before he came home. the last time you were still awake and felt him getting into bed made your heart race. spending another sleepless night trying to pry off nightmares was not very tempting.

an easy task you would’ve thought, until you felt a hand on your bare shoulder.

freezing, you didn’t think twice to know who it was.

he murmured your name, almost asking if he can touch you. there’s always a first time for everything.

other than small brushes during dinners and fake hand holding during galas, this was the first time he had put a hand on you in private.

after a moment of deep contemplation and pretending to ignore the uncomfortable twist in your stomach, you nodded.

he slowly, carefully laid down on the bed, his arm reaching across and smoothing against your upper body. as if he was terrified you were going to shatter into a million pieces at one wrong movement.

he wasn’t entirely wrong.

his chest pressed against your back, and he lowered his face into your hair from behind, legs not touching. only 3 parts of your bodies were grazing together and his heart was pounding against your back. yours was doing the same.

in silence, you didn’t dare to move. for weeks now, the thought of you two even hugging again was enough to send you into a spiral. but strangely, this felt… different.

this time he wasn’t pressing his cock against your ass, placing kisses along your neck.

this time he wasn’t embracing you after hours of sex.

no, this was different. he was different.

“the sheer pain i have caused you… will haunt me until the day i die.” his deep voice rang in your ears. “and i do not expect one ounce of your forgiveness, nor do i deserve that privilege. i just…”

he trailed off, taking in a sharp breath and exhaling through his nose. was he crying?

“i need you, so, so much. i love you, and the thought of how much suffering i have delivered throughout the years makes me sick.”

now it was your turn to cry.

“you scared me that night.” you whispered, trying to not reveal your breaking voice.

he coated your hair with tears. “i know. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” he whimpered.

you didn’t respond. just laid there, quiet tears feeling like droplets of blood as they hit the sheets.

maybe you were an idiot to admit that been back in his arms was comforting. but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t overwhelming.

so, for the rest of the night, you stayed like that. letting his arms tighten every once in a while when you shifted in sleep, still horrified at the thought of losing you.

ᥫ᭡

something in the air had changed between you and coriolanus that night.

whether is was his seemingly heartfelt apology or the way neither of you pulled away from each others touch all night, who knows.

but there was no denying the fresh lightness you both felt when waking up tangled together. of course, your mental wounds still had a long journey yet to heal — and maybe they never will fully. he knew that, and from his words and the way he was staring at you right now told you he would help in anyway possible.

that didn’t mean everything was sunshine and rainbows, no. a sincere apology wasn’t going to erase all the torment you had endured — nor was it going to allow him to go back to how he used to treat you.

over the past few days, it almost felt like things had gone back to normal. almost.

sure, you still hadn’t kissed yet, and he hadn’t uttered another word about what he had done after a couple days.

but suddenly you didn’t dread the thought of him coming home, dinners weren’t unbearable — in fact, he even waited until you were finished to leave the table. usually it was the other way round.

the end of your day began feeling like the beginning, what with this little routine you and coriolanus had formed. every night, after dinner, you both would get ready for bed together. no interruptions, no standards, just the two of you in your own little world. it quickly became the highlight of your day.

tonight was a particularly special night.

your routinely procedure had been scheduled earlier it seems, with the time being 6pm and the shower already raining down onto the bathroom tiles.

“do you think i should wear the blue or red dress this evening, coryo?” you called out from your dressing room.

“both would look amazing on you. but red, i think, would suit you perfectly.” he replied from the steamy bathroom, his deep voice not needing to raise to echo off the walls.

you smiled at his choice, nodding as if he could see you.

holding the pretty crimson dress in front of your full-length mirror, you couldn’t help but feel all giddy inside. as if you were 19 again, getting ready for your first date with coriolanus.

it might as well be your first date all over again, with your freshly mended marriage. coryo had proposed an evening out at one of the finest restaurants in the capitol, all booked out for you of course. you had smiled and agreed, as if you weren’t buzzing with excitement at getting dressed up for an event you were actually looking forward to.

whilst you applied mascara, coriolanus walked in, wrapped in a towel. he had lost some weight during the past few weeks, yet his muscles were still rather prominent. you never commented on this observation.

“you look…” he let out a deep breath, struck by your pure beauty.

rolling your eyes playfully, you nodded towards the newly bought suit laid on your bed. he insisted on buying you clothes, yet that didn’t mean you couldn’t return the favour. even if it was with his money.

a chuckle was heard from him, “darling, you didn’t need to.”

“you don’t like it?” you tilted your head, walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso.

he shook his head immediately. “no, no, i love it. thank you, i didn’t think buying suits for me was on your mind. you’ve seen how many i own.”

“you’ve seen how many dresses i own, too. yet you still continue to buy me more.” you retorted. he smiled fondly, turning around and placing his hands on your waist.

your eyes met, the light banter turning into something deeper. the strain in his piercing blues was evident, and you knew what he was preventing himself from doing.

preventing himself from smashing his lips onto yours, taking what’s his and showing you just how gorgeous you are right now.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave that just about now.

but kissing was a big step to cross, at least for you. maybe he didn’t see it — but even his hand grazing along your neck made your heart race.

if you were being honest, you’d say it wasn’t him kissing you that made your anxiety spark. it was not knowing how you’d react that scared you. what if you despised the feeling of his lips on yours, and all of this progress so far was for nothing. or what if you were just overthinking it and the more physical contact, the more closer you both got.

either way, your view on it was black and white. it was a miracle or a train wreck. you didn’t want to risk the chances.

so, you stepped back, pulling yourself out of your shared trance, smoothing your hands over your dress. you tried to divert the conversation, hoping he’ll follow. “what time is the car coming?”

he cleared his throat, luckily catching on to what you were trying to do. “30 minutes now. i’ll get changed, wait for me in the living room.”

that wasn’t a question; you of all people would recognise. you nodded, giving him a small smile and leaving the room.

even if things had… adapted in your relationship, coriolanus’ knack for commanding didn’t waver at times. not all of his habits had been set in stone, though coriolanus was a naturally controlling man and nothing would change that.

ᥫ᭡

clutching onto coryo’s hand, you giggled as you walked out of the restaurant. your laughter was fuelled by the pure joy of the night you’ve had — and maybe the couple glasses of wine you drank. coriolanus had made sure you watched how much you poured, so maybe you were a little tipsy.

being drunk would remind you of that night, and that was awful to think about. good thing this night had made you ecstatic.

“thank you for this, coryo. you always know how to make me smile.”

now it was his turn to laugh, stopping you both to stand in front of the fancy building you emerged from. “so do you, my love.”

it was almost as if the stars aligned exactly for this moment, the deep black sky littered with white dots of glimmer. the moon shone proudly down onto you both, his tall figure exaggerated as he towered above you.

your hands went up, his once neat, gelled hair now slightly messy, showing off his curls more. distracted by taming his hair, you didn’t realise how profoundly he was admiring your face, his pacific eyes roaming over your features. taking in his beautiful wife.

your eyes met his. you nearly blushed. “what?”

he didn’t reply.

deep, deep yearning was the only way to describe the look on his face right now. you batted your eyelashes up at him, oblivious to the unrequited love he was silently expressing.

maybe looks weren’t enough.

he leaned forward, gently capturing your lips with his.

at first, you were completely taken aback. but with his hands resting on your hips and the small patter of rain beginning to fall above you, you couldn’t help but fall into his touch, kissing him back just as tenderly.

a mix of relief, desire, and slight hesitance laced the kiss. it wasn’t like anything you had predicted — no, it was nearly perfect. you could tell he didn’t want to hurt you, and the usual hunger and lust which poisoned your kisses before had died down.

you broke the kiss when the sound of the car pulled up. you couldn’t be happier that was the only reason.

your foreheads rested against each other for a moment as you caught your breath, not caring about the droplets of rain coating your hair. coryo’s hand came up to your cheek.

“let’s get you home, yeah?” he murmured, taking your hand and walking towards the car.

the ride home was somewhat healing in itself.

no longer sitting the furthest distance from one another, his hand snaked around your waist as your head rested on his shoulder.

no radio silence filling the car awkwardly, now it was filled with light teasing and small reassurances.

“did you enjoy tonight?” his voice was low, right by your ear yet strangely soothing. you sleepily nodded, feeling your limbs relax. he leaned back against the leather seats and pulled you closer, your head resting on his chest.

the last thing you heard before slumber took you was, “go to sleep, my sweet girl. i’ll wake you when we arrive.”

ᥫ᭡

shifting lazily in your drowsiness, you cracked your eyes open, expecting to be met with your husband’s voice telling you you’re home. instead, you were met with the sound of the tap running in the bathroom and the sight of your silky sheets.

“coryo?” you croaked out, still practically half asleep.

rubbing your eyes and reluctantly getting out of bed, you walked over to your nightgown set on the armchair in the corner. he must’ve laid out some pyjamas for you. part of you wished he would’ve dressed you himself.

taking off your tightly clasped bra, you pulled the silky gown over yourself and walked into the bathroom, greeted by the sight of your shirtless husband brushing his teeth.

he spat out the toothpaste into the sink once he saw you. walking over, he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“how did i get upstairs?” you questioned, voice delicate.

“i brought you up.” he mumbled simply, leaning down to bury his nose into your hair. he was tired too, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“you carried me?”

he nodded, pulling away slightly. “is that okay?”

you didn’t reply. it wasn’t for the wrong reasons, but you couldn’t help just staring at him, almost dumbfounded.

who was this coryo who carried you to bed when you fell asleep? who knew, but you desperately didn’t want him to leave.

if you could see yourself now a mere few weeks ago, hell, maybe even 6 months ago, you wouldn’t of believed it. it was almost too good to be true.

maybe it was just the small wine intake taking over that brought you to tears. it sure surprised you, as it did for coriolanus.

“oh, oh darling. c’mere.” his concerned tone only made you cry even more. little did he know it was happy tears. he pulled you into his strong chest, like he was protecting you from the rest of the world. “what’s the matter?”

“i just-…” you blubbered, flinging your arms around him.

“breathe, sweetheart. talk to m—” his words were abruptly interrupted by you reaching up and kissing him vehemently.

he was taken aback for a moment, but he quickly found the rhythm and kissed back with just as much passion. his hand went to the back of your head, fingers holding you firmly.

the once deep, emotional kiss you had initiated gradually turned into something softer, slower. your hand rested on his jaw, feeling how your mouths moved meticulously against each other.

the motivation for suddenly catching his lips with yours was unbeknownst to you. whether it was the overwhelmingly strong realisation that coriolanus snow had changed for the better, or the unadulterated gratefulness you felt for the Gods above that they had freed you from your torment, who knows. all you knew was that the nostalgic craving of having his lips on yours was back: more than just a longing memory.

pulling away, you both let out a breath of air. your lips were tainted with colour from his own, cheeks flushed from his heavy breathing.

a breathless chuckle left you both at the same time, and his hands slid to the back of your thighs, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing and walking into the bedroom.

ᥫ᭡ the next morning

coriolanus was entranced by the old sight of your hair splayed across your pillows, lips slightly parted as your legs tangled with his. it was times like this that kept him going.

your eyes opened after a few more minutes, a small yawn escaping your throat as you stretched. coryo leaned forward and placed a small kiss on your temple.

the ruffled pile of your nightgown laying at the bottom of your bed used to be a telltale sign that you and coryo had had the time of your lives the night before. mostly coriolanus.

now it wasn’t remotely related to sex.

your nightgown and coryo’s trousers had been ditched last night, simply because the feeling of each other’s warmth was the equivalent to a lullaby. it had coaxed you both to sleep, being completely enclosed in one another all night. it felt like a fairytale.

“what’s going on in that little head of yours?” coriolanus smirked. you smiled, moving to place your head on top of his bicep.

“just… how much we’ve changed.” you admitted.

his relaxed demeanour slightly shifted at the topic of how they were in the past. he nodded. “go on.”

“i wouldn’t imagine us like this a few weeks ago,” you continued, “it all just feels crazy.”

“in a good way, i hope.” he tilted his head.

“definitely in a good way. i prefer it like this. no arguments, no standards, no… rules.”

he chuckled at that last word. “rules?”

you giggled, cheeks heating at your choice of words. “yeah, your orders, i don’t know.”

he shook his head with a fond smile. you knew he felt guilty about the ordeal, but still being in the presence of the president, your husband, made you feel a little stupid at times.

he pulled you closer, lips brushing against yours. “so no more rules?”

“no more rules.”

ᥫ᭡ end.

eee so happy i finished this! sorry for the late post, severe case of writers block has been on and off for days 💔 hopefully this healed u from part i, it sure did for me :)

[writinandcrying]

How does the 2003 turtles react to crushes - part 1

Just a little thing cuz I miss writing, i miss tmnt and I haven’t got the time to do a full one shot or mashup in MONTHS 😔, I’m still on season 1-2 so if anything is a bit too ooc, I apologize! I love reading about crushes, first kisses, first loves, so this is for my puppy love stage lovers out there!! p.s: there's a poll for the next turtle by the end of the headcanon, make sure to vote your favorite! <3

(English is not my first language and I have dyslexia, I try to check everything before posting but sometimes grammar mistakes still happen, I apologize in advance if you find one!)

Leo

That’s some deeply repressed, effortless devotion energy right there, Leo is a pro at pretending that everything is fine, keeping it cool, but on the inside? so freaking nervous it’s not even funny

it's almost creepy how quiet he suddenly gets near you on your first visits, he acts in such a secluded but... odd way that everyone know something is up with him, but no one really knows what.

His younger brothers are all 🤨 over how he’s acting, at first, they noticed tiny shifts in his behaviors, they weren’t big enough to raise a red flag of such change, but when Leo shows how inpatient and careless he has become in training or meditating, then they KNOW something was really off . he has been careless for the silliest things as well, breaking the toaster more than once a week, forgetting to nag them about the open toothpaste, stuff he usually wouldn't miss it, but suddenly he doesn't mind it anymore.

None of them have the guts to ask him (Raph and Mikey might tease here and there, but you know, it’s Raph and Mikey) Don might find himself studying his brother from time to time, interested to why his older brother is being way more introspective than before, he wonders if maybe he’s going through a natural turtle process of some sort April is the only one who truly leaves him be, but as your visits become more frequent, it all clicks when you randomly stop by to deliver some groceries by Master Splinter request.

The pure lovesick look he glances at you when you first enter... you caught him completely off guard as he was leaving the dojo with Master Splinter, his dementor shifted back rapidly to stoic, but April noticed it, her eyes widened slightly as it all made sense, softening right after. Leo helps you with the groceries with agility, as Master Splinter excuses himself after he thanks you, he even dares to make small talk after an extremely long and awkward moment of silence (which he researched his possible lines in his head several times, made up several scenarios in which topic it could lead into, I might add) We have seen how Leo reacts to Usagi in the series (he has a fat crush on each other and I’m right) so you know even if he is indeed nervous, Leo is so dedicated to your well-being, attentive to your needs and inputs to missions or even movie debates, it’s heartwarming to see how inclusive he can be of you. He notices everything – Not in an obvious way, or a loud way, but in a way that means you’ll never have to ask him twice about something important to you. You mention offhand that you like a certain type of tea? He remembers. You’re shivering? He’s already handing you his jacket before you can say a word. The exact moment you get tired even before you admit it.

One day at training after sparring, you absentmindedly rubbed your wrist. You didn’t say anything, didn’t complain at the pain you might have felt, but later that night, you find a perfectly wrapped bandage roll left on top of your bag. No note. No explanation. You glance at Leo, and he’s just calmly cleaning his takana, pretending like he has no idea what you’re looking at. He’s not the type to shower you with words, but his actions speak volumes. He makes sure you always walk on the safe path while coming back from a mission or scorting you back home, he picks whatever condiment out of your food because he remembers you don’t like them. He’ll “coincidentally” be around when you need help, even if he acts like it’s no big deal. He's gentle, kind, and a true gentleman, he makes sure his presence is there. He effortlessly puts so much thought into you, it’s just how his mind works.

He disliked how nervous he first got around you, but after a while, he didn’t even realize how he had grown used to thinking about you. He grabs an extra bottle of water without thinking because you might be thirsty later. His brothers joke that he’s got favorites, and he just denies it, but deep down? Yeah. It’s you. Eventually, he has to talk to someone, and he chooses to confide in April about… well, everything? regarding feelings, about how to be sure, what does it feel like to love someone and how should he react to it? wait, did he say love? How can he stop his hands from getting so sweaty? this is ridiculous, should he feel anxious and at ease around you all at the same time? From time to time, he tells himself he doesn’t like you like that, that he’s just looking out for you because you’re part of the team, part of the family. that's just him being a leader, That’s all it is.

his train of thought is broken as he hears Mikey chuckle “Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

Leo stiffens, cleaning his throat as he turns he page of his book a bit too slow “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you SO do.” Mikey grins. “The ‘eyes-follow-them-every-time-they-leave-the-room’ thing? The ‘silent-knight-hovering’ thing? classic move, real smooth.”

Leo exhales through his nose, forcing himself to focus on back his book. It’s not like that. It can’t be. "Maybe you should tell them, who knows, they might be looking back right at ya" Mikey winks at him, biting on this apple as he sits on the couch, turning on the tv. Maybe he was looking at you too long, maybe he wasn't as subtle as he thought he was, or his brothers just, unfortunately, know him too well and finally caught up. He prided himself and his control, his calm exterior, carefully managed. but maybe you slip through the cracks. He can't help but to continue notice how eyes shine brighter when you smile, remembering every little thing about you, doing things that only you get to see. Deep down, he knows. He just doesn’t know what to do with it yet.

[pumpkinsy0]

here to hassle you again. what if i asked very nicely for some papercut interacting with curtis gang/ponys brothers. what then? (aka i miss soda and curly fucking with each other while pony just sits there and darry shakes his head solemnly in the background)

ur wish is my command🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

•the gang uses whipped cream a LOT but after curly comes over and took the whipped cream into the room him and pony were hanging out in, literally nobody wants to even take the can anymore, assuming theres whipped cream LEFT. the gangs swears they gotta b licking whipped cream off each other which look, they arent WRONG but its nothing CRAZY its just off each others arm or something, but the gang wont hear pony out💔💔on the bright side more whipped cream for pony!!!

•if curlys gonna b sleeping over like hes part of the gang hes gonna get “part if the gang” treatment. the first and only time curly slept on the floor was when pony slept w him cause they were watching a movie on tv and fell asleep, the gang took each end of the blanket, and lifted them up to swing them around. curly was so mad he aint even stay for breakfast, he wasnt gonna stay for it anyways but he wasnt gonna stay ESPECIALLY then🙄🙄

•as much as soda would love to b nosey and see what theyre doing in ponys old room, yknow practice his older brother right, when he brought girls over, pony would leave him alone and so he gotta grant pony his own privacy as a “thank u”

•darry likes bringing them snacks believe it or not, but when hes preparing em he can bear some of the things they say and it physically makes darry stop doing what hes doing bc like??????what the hell r u guys on about??????

•nobody else makes curly stop paying attention to pony like dally does, w everyone else, curly messes w them to make pony laugh or if he does pay attention to them fully, its not for long!! w dally tho?? it doesnt matter if dally wasnt even talking to curly, curly will talk his shit and get all in dallys face, most of the time curlys hatred will always run deeper than his love for others i fear

•johnnys the exact opposite, hes the one curly ignores the most, curly will casually forget johnny was even w them and hes the one that actually hangs out w pony and curly the most

•dating someone whos related to soda and darry means u get free repairs on ur car and home, curly constantly jokes that pony is his insurance contract. soda hates to admit it,,,but its a lil funny,,,,darry chuckled at the joke he can give curly his flowers

in the scrapbook darrys continued from his parents, soda and darry make an effort to include curly in it, if their partners have been in it, so does ponys, ESPECIALLY his first relationship. so darry and soda do make an effort to include curly in on their small trips, for their parents sake

•speaking of parents, ponys worst moment was when him and curly partially partially made out in his parents/darrys room. only darry knows about it cause the sheets were rumpled up and pony couldnt walk pass that room without giving it a look😭😭. nobodies brought it up and it will stay that way.

•pony being w curly ALSOOO means that the curtis gang has more street cred and their members wont get jumped bc ppl will think twice about messing w a gang that has closer ties to the shepard gang, curly being around doesnt allwaayyyssss have to mean doom and gloom🙏🏽🙏🏽u get semi scary m/unhinged dog privileges

[luckymousey]

Thoughts about Trey's dream (parts 257-268) (mostly things I liked)

Hey! I’m back!

Today I managed to start and finish Trey’s dream, let’s start!

Man, they even uploaded Riddle’s dream by now, I need to watch it, I don’t have enough time, help

⚠️English is not my first language and there will be spoilers for those who still haven't seen Trey's dream⚠️

Warnings?: possible swearing and grammatical mistakes

They arrive at Trey’s dream and I fucking hope they deepen up in Trey and Cater’s relationship (I write at the same time as I watch because it’s easier this way for me (I have short term memory) so I still don’t know what’s going to happen next, just to let you know)

Ace posing for the camera mid-travelling? What the hell? How!? Like, Cater filming the whole fly is easy to understand, but weren’t they flying way too fast to pose? My man here is unaffected by wind or what? 🤨 Or are they going as fast as a roller coaster?

Deuce is definitely getting his magic wheel’s driver license before the car’s one, I can feel it, he even wanted to make a magic wheel club before.

I can’t believe I was right, almost no one in Heartslabyul gets dizzy because of this type of travelling (though Cater gave another explanation, maybe i didn’t hit right in the spot)

Yo, if the Mirror of Darkness judges the dizziness resistance (I don’t know what it’s called, but you get me, right) does Heartslabyul have a big gap in number of students compared to the rest of the dorms? (I know it’s more of the sound thing, but just a question I had)

Ace being offended by the fact that we didn’t go to Deuce and he first, like, I WOULD’VE loved to go to you first, but I just couldn’t choose what dream I wanted to go first, ok? You understand? (And his dream broke my heart too many times)

AND NOW ITS POSSIBLE TO FLIGHT WITH 10 PEOPLE, MAN, SILVER IS DRAINING HIMSELF, ISN’T HE?, AFTER EVERYTHING IS OVER, HE’S GOING TO BE LIKE: “yeah, yeah, I’m happy everything is solved, I love you all, gn” HE’S GOING TO SLEEP FOR 100 YEARS FOR REAL AFTER THIS

Sebek being proud of and thankful for Lilia and his grandpa is so cute 🥰

AND MY KNIGHT, THE MIGHTY SILVER, COMES AND TALKS ABOUT GRIM TOO, YEAH, THIS IS ONE OF THE PARTS I LIKED THE MOST Grim defending us is just so cute, you guys know those headcanon some people have that Grim gives Yuu a present for Mother’s/Father’s Day because he sees them as his paternal figure because he never had someone who took care of him so much 🥺? It reminded me of those

Everyone complimenting a very embarrassed Grim gives me years of life

I can’t believe Grim said that if he was to leave Yuu behind he wouldn’t be able to study just AFTER what happened in Ace’s dream

And now the one Braincell trio talk together and tease Grim like siblings would, it’s so heartwarming 🥰

AND LEONA APPEARS WITH A FLOWN ON HIS FACE TO REMIND THEM THEIR MISSION, HE’S STILL TRAPPED WITH THEM WHEN I'M SURE HE WANTS TO FINALLY GET A NAP

The way the characters start naming sweets and everything they can smell impresses me, I can’t get a single name right when guessing what food is only by its smell 😭

My man Cater stopping everyone from suddenly entering the kitchen and showing his intelligence, he knows how to act and what to prevent

But his line?: “all I’ve to do is to drag the NPC outside, beat them and return” that sounded so sadist for me

CATER LITERALLY PUTTING HIMSELF WITH LEONA AND IDIA IS SO FUNNY, ONE IS A COMPLETE INTROVERT WHO HATES SOCIALIZING AND THE OTHER ONE FINDS CATER’S ENERGETIC PERSONALITY ANNOYING

Cater calling himself weak and that he chose Leona for said reason as unsettling, I had the same exact reaction as Leona: “don’t lie” he’s not weak! Why are you sayin that Cater? It makes me laugh a little

And then, of course, Cater drags them as Idia starts pleading for mercy: “no, don’t! Stop!”

Idia is the one who’s in most danger because he’s controlling everything, directly helping them and also communicating with STYX (who still didn’t fall asleep), running the danger that because of that, Malleus could catch him (let’s remember he caught Ortho, it wouldn’t be surprising if he suspected Idia) and he worries about having to accompany a Heartslabyul student

OMG, Ace wishing good luck to the three of them was so pleasing to my ear, I dunno, it felt…✨amazing✨ (it probably was the cheerful and sneaky way he said it

We enter the kitchen and it’s so fucking amazing, so beautiful, so perfect, AAAAAH, I LOVE IT (Alice in Wonderland is literally my fav Disney movie, I just love anything related to it) (but I ain’t forgiving them for what they did to my heart with Ace’s dream)

Something I don’t see in the kitchen is a teapot with three spouts, I demand my three-spouts-teapot

But I do see some Cheshire Cat’s cookies, they look so damn cool, I’m definitely making them when I have time

I just had a random thought, if anyone wants to make their birthday party (or anything else)

Heartslabyul themed they could make ‘sweets-garlands’, something that looks just like the food that’s flying in the new kitchen, it would be sick

Riddle would be terrorized by the new kitchen, but I bet that goth Riddle would be happily running like a kid to get more and more food (basing this off the spoilers I read about how he became a little spoiled in his dream)

AND CHENYA MAKES HIS APPEARANCE, HELLO CHENYA, I MISSED YOU 😭😭😭

Trey with his new uniform makes something inside me, I don’t know how to explain, it’s just kjhskjhgahjksjhsjk

If you look at the new clothes of Cater, Trey and Riddle, you’ll see they’re all matching, they’re wearing matching outfits and you’re not going to change my mind.

Ugh, I wish they made a new uniform for Chenya instead of just giving him a crown (but also, considering Chenya’s personality, it might be that he just doesn’t want to wear his uniform OR that his clothes can be considered uniform both in NRC and RSA)

Deuce not being able to remember Chenya’s full name reminds me of when he tried to say “Diasomnia” in the Heartslabyul Arc (I know Chenya’s name is long asf and is literally like a tongue twister, but it reminded me of that moment)

And then Ortho finally gets Chenya’s personal information…is this even legal? I mean, I know Ortho wouldn’t use their personal information abasing them (or maybe yes), but this can’t be legal (but considering what Rollo tried to do and the situation with Fellow and Gidel, I think I can say that laws there don’t work)

I swear that while the third years were reading Chenya’s information, the cat was definitely playing Dress to Impress, he was hitting all the poses he could

Idia and Leona are still talking about the theory that both Trey and Cater didn’t like Riddle as dorm leader and yada yadaaa, I feel Cater was more like he wanted to be able to live without having so many strict rules (but he wasn’t dissatisfied with Riddle) while Trey’s definitely more like he just wants Riddle to relax a little (I think. Like, I’m sure Chenya doesn’t mind being dorm leader, he’s cool and relaxed)

Idia being scolded by Ortho is *chef kiss*, I love their dynamic

Ortho is going to be a great uncle (if he really gets a nephew/niece), he’s like that friend who's like the cutest one in the group but in reality he’s the most intelligent and mature

Grim telling Ace to lower his head is so cuteeee, I need to see a fanart of all of them trying to look what’s happening in the kitchen

And now everyone is fighting with everyone while Deuce just sighs at the sight of the friends he got (even Ortho is glaring 😂)

Returning to the kitchen, Cater approaches Trey…and he tells Cater he’s not the real one…TREY, THAT’S NOT HOW YOU SAID HI TO SOMEONE; RUN, CATER, RUN AWAY

Man, the fact that Chenya is not more powerful than Riddle but still manages to keep his position as dorm leader makes sense, I think it’s like a reflection of what happens in the film: the Cheshire Cat constantly mocks the Queen of Hearts.

My dumb ass doesn’t understand Leona’s scientific explanation about Chenya’s UM, so I’ll simply say that it makes his body disappear

And the fact that Chenya pulled Riddle’s belt is just like when the Cheshire Cat used the Queen’s flamingo to lift her skirt

I swear to God that Chenya’s references to the original film are so *another chef kiss 💋*

The language Chenya uses (the ‘Pokandue’ word) would be something like Riddlish, from EAH, right?

“Whether I go or not depends on my mood”, translation: “I’ll only go if something perks my interest, if not, fuck off”, Chenya is so sassy, something like Floyd, I love him (I’m starting to thing he’s my favorite character, yes, a secondary character is my favorite character)

AND HIS HUMMING COULDN’T GO MISSING

“It’s not like there’s a huge difference between the reality and his dream”, Idia, dear…just wait

Oh, fuck, I just realized Trey was talking that he looked thinner than dream!Cater, not that he knew he didn’t belong to his dream, fuck, it makes sense, I almost forgot the meatballs existed

And while they’re talking about how they could wake him up Trey appears with his ‘Grandma “you’re too skinny, darling” mode’ activated and asks them if they’re hungry.

Trey still remembering Cater’s hatred for sweet things is so sweet of him (yes, I made another pun on it, hehe)

When I talked about Trey having a Grandma mode, I wasn’t lying man, in this part, he just fucking told them to eat 5 or 10 slices of the food, Trey, my man, my chef, calm down, you already have too many meatballs, you don’t need more

…and now Leona eats an entire pie…it’s understandable, he likes to eat…but man, in two bites?

Leona hating vegetables is so funny and then he demands for more food with meat, he approves, he approves

And Cater saying 200 tarts are too much even if there a lot of students in Heartslabyul…if you knew, Cater, if you knew

*puts voice of documentary filmmaker* And while the humans (and a robot and a cat who denies being a cat) are discussing which Riddle is weirder, the one in Ace’s dream or the one in Trey’s, something huge is slowly approaching them, it easily exceeds the average human size and weight, what will it be? An elephant? A walking building? An even weirder Riddle?…

Ehhhh, it wasn’t entirely wrong.

And nooooow, *drum roll* CONTESTANT NUMBER-

Ah, wait, they dropped some Trey Clover lore.

Oh, and I also wanted to say that it’s so amazing that the dorm also changes on its own and also have mushroom and cookies that can make you bigger, they really put a lot of detail in Heartslabyul (maybe because this was the first dorm)

When Idia said: “eh, etto…”, it sounded so cute ahjjksjakj

And I also find so cute that he was the one who started talking, and not just talking, but starting a conversation, he’s slowly opening to others (just a little, tiny bit, but I’m sure it’s a big step for him)

Idia and Trey have something in common! They both started doing what they like to do now just because that was just what they were used to (programming and baking respectively)

He was excited by the kitchen in Heartslabyul! Now I headcanon that he loves going to Ikea

and look at the furniture

I said it in my post defending Trey and I will say it again, Trey didn’t know what was going to happen to Riddle if he snuck out, even Idia and Leona are so fucking surprised by the 5 hours Mrs. Rosehearts took to yell at his family, and not only Trey wasn't the culprit of anything, but yelling at a married couple over a piece of tart, A FUCKING PIECE OF TART, is ridiculous.

And now we’re re-telling Riddle’s childhood, whyyyyyyyyyy 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

And Chenya and Trey see him as their baby brother!!! THAT’S WHAT I NEEDED TO HEAR, RIDDLE, SEND YOUR MAMA TO HELL AND GO AND LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE, YOU CAN BE EITHER RIDDLE CLOVER OR RIDDLE ALCHEMIVICH PINKA

And only now you’re telling me Trey was forced to be vice-leader 🥺? RELEASE MY BOY, YANA, RELEASE HIM (only if he wants to, of course, we don’t know if he’s now happy with the situation)

Damn, seeing Trey in his normal dorm uniform feels after this long weird

Oh, WAIT, IT’S THE HAT, HE’S NOT WEARING THE HAT IN THE FLASHBACK, I know we can see him without his hat in his school uniform, but it’s weird seeing him using the dorm uniform without the hat

Wait, wait, wait, wait, THE FACT THAT CATER, WHO IS NOT USED TO HAVE LONG-TERM RELATIONSHIPS, IS THE ONE TALKING AND ANALYZING TREY’S DESIRE FOR CHENYA TO BE THERE WITH HIM IS SO HEARTBREAKING

Leona is so sadist: “let’s just turn into sand everything Trey created for his dream. Let’s start with that silly, striped cat” maybe it’s because I’m a stupid, sensitive person, but I wouldn’t be able to even think about destroying something that makes another person happy 🥹

OUR SPECIAL GUESTS ARE FINALLY HEREEEE

*drum roll* CONTESTANT NUMBER 1: ACE TRAPPOROLLA

CONTESTANT NUMBER 2: DEUCE SPADEROLL

CONTESTANT NUMBER 3: KEITO DIABETO

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, CONTESTANT NUMBER 4: RIDDLE ROLLINGBALL

Who will our bachelor, Yuu Yuusurname, choose?

(Omg, the voiceeeees, they’re hilarious)

(The way both Deuce and Cater both though they were hedgehogs who turned into giants just shows us how crazy the dorm is and how used they’re to it)

Going tbh, when I saw the meatballs and Trey’s SSR card I thought: “oh, so…Hansel and Gretel, right?”

Bro, when they put the character besides their meatball-self is like looking an ‘before vs after’ meme

“There are two Ace and Deuce!” “It’s true!” “I didn’t notice because they were so small!” OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T NOTICE, YOU EVEN CAME ROLLING INSTEAD OF WALKING

“Aren’t you all…perfectly round?” NO, TREY, HUMANS CAN'T BE ESPHERES, PLEASE, WAKE UP

Bro, imagine a student who wears glasses and only wears glasses because contact lenses make him uncomfortable, but here’s the plot twist: he’s a Heartslabyul student, round like a ball, big like an elephant, how is he going to wear his glasses??

Haha, Sebek and Silver were more worried about Riddle not being able to ride his horse Vorpal than anything else

Yk something curious? First, I know Trey’s desire is more about his peers being able to live freely as they want, but the result was way too far away from his motto: “I’m just a normal guy”, and second, this would actually make sense as he’s the based off the Mad Hater isn’t it? We kind of had to expect something crazy

The way the meatballs just start rolling to attack them, even Silver was taken down by them, god gracious, they’re going to be flattened up into a rug…WHO WANTS THE SPECIAL EDITION “THE GREAT GRIM” RUG FOR THEIR HOUSE? LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE ONLY ONE PRODUCT LEFT, BUY IT BEFORE SOMEONE DOES SO BEFORE YOU

Ok, but the fact that Tre’s first flashbacks were literally Riddle being a tyrant…lowkey makes

me want to cry a little

”I don’t like sweets at all, but it’s so delicious I can’t help myself!” *wrong answer noise* EEEEEEEEEE, Cater would NEVER say that, he already has his little trauma with sweets, leave my boy alone

Trey’s little laugh before pointing out what his real friends do and then saying he feels sick by watching them eat his food, ✨perfect✨

MY CHEF TREY CLOVER IS BACK MY PEOPLE, HE WOKE UP, YESSSSS

Aye, Ace’s coughing was nice to hear too, I dunno, when characters make small little noises is always fun for me to hear

UMMMM, Leona telling Trey owes him and Trey simply laughing, I’m also stealing this for my 3rd years headcanon

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you”…I mean, if you want to 😆

“Will a normal mage like me be useful in this situation?” TREY, WE ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THIS AFTER WE BEAT MALLEUS and probably Grim’s ASS

“Don’t make fun of me, Leona.” That’s another thing that’s going to my 3rd years headcanon 💅🏻

Everyone telling Trey he was their wildcard but I remember Idia calling him “Riddle’s pacifier” and I’m not letting you forget about that >:3

Ace taking a guess about Riddle’s dream by saying he’ll probably dream about rules and almost everyone agreeing…you’re all so bad at the guessing game, guys really, you shouldn’t play it anymore

Silver and Trey watching their first year students in disappointment and slight embarrassment is so mom coded for them, idc if Silver doesn’t really have mom vibes, this is my opinion

AND IDIA CALLED THEM PARENTS OF KINDERGARTEN CHILDREN, I LOVE HIM, TWINNNS

So we’ve reached the end of my post, I hope you enjoyed it!

[robinofgothamcity]

“I leave quite the impression, five feet to be exact.”

Character: David Howard Thornton / Art the Clown(?)

Authors note: Okay so y’all REALLY gotta hear me out with this one. I’m so in love with him (like in a normal and not parasocial way LMFAO) Like is it my daddy issues? I’m sure it is but omfg, guys pls pls hear me out. If y’all are allowed to simp over Pedro Pascal I’m allowed to be in love with DHT.

Being on the younger side of the cast did have its benefits. You were exactly the type of girl Damien looked for when he needed promotion on other platforms that other cast members didn’t know how to use. You weren’t necessarily the youngest as you were now in your late 20s but you did know how to use TikTok, Snapchat, and a few other platforms well.

You were also casted in a minor role in the film so you did have some acting experience behind you as well. When you first arrived on set, it was like a breath of fresh air. You had dreamed of this since you were a kid and to be in a role with the likes of David and Lauren really made this entire experience surreal. You knew that this entire project didn’t come around very often so when you were offered the role as a minor character and a social media strategist, you took it quicker than you could realize.

That was about a year and a half ago and now all of you were doing press for Terrifier 3. This time around you were stuck in New York for a small con in Albany. Given that it was early December, you were freezing your ass off in the Uber as all of you were waiting for the call to be at the panel.

“You nervous?” You heard David ask you. You gave him a small smile, “I can feel throw up in my throat and I’m not even there yet,” you responded as you shook your leg in anxiousness. David lifted his glasses and put his hand on your shoulder, “Crowds can be scary but I promise you aren’t alone. I’ll be there and so will Damien and everyone else you’ve been with for the last year and a half.”

You looked to David and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. He grabbed your hand, giving it a small smile squeeze as the two of you arrived at the convention center. Although you were on the panel with the rest of the crew, you were on duty for social media before hand. Giving out prizes, fan interviews, and anything that had to do with the convention goers.

Almost immediately you were dragged out to the convention floor as you grabbed your mini microphone and the phone provided for you. This was the only down time David had so he figured there was no bother in seeing you do what you do best and talk to people on the floor. He figured he’d blend in with the crowd and not make himself noticeable so you weren’t caught off guard.

“Big Terrifier fan, I love it,” you had said into the microphone as you bent down to see the not even one year old in a mini Art costume. The mother giggled as the baby smacked the microphone to make the funny noise it did a second ago, “Insightful,” you said as you looked to the phone. David couldn’t help but start laughing as you thanked the mother before approaching another group of fans.

This time, it was a group of boys who seemed to be around your age. You asked them nicely for an interview in hopes of getting some more footage but only one of them agreed, “Hi, I’m here with?” You asked as you gave the boy the microphone, “Jackson,” he replied lowly. You gave him a smile as you noticed that he finally realized that you were one of the girls from the film, “you played Tiffany right?” He asked. You nodded as David’s eyebrow quirked in slight jealously, “You were one of the best characters, the way you tried to fight off Art was so sick!” You couldn’t help but start laughing he took out his Terrifier pop and asked for you to sign it.

David knew he was not in his rights to interrupt the interview but seeing the way the boy was practically drooling over you and the small interaction in the Uber upped his jealously even more.

There was tension between the two of you, some that others noticed and while it wasn’t news that David had a thing for you, no one ever said a word. You figured that the small interactions between you and David must’ve been something that he did with everyone. You had grown to appreciate David but you never said a word about your feelings to anyone else out of fear of being called a gold digger who only slept with the main star of the show to get more screen time.

“Panel is on in half an hour,” David said through a text. You read it and immediately excused yourself as you ran to the back of the convention center where everyone was meeting at. Before David could bolt and meet you there, the same boy that you interviewed noticed him and ran to him with a sharpie, “can I get your autograph? I just met (your name) and having your signature right next to hers would be everything to me.”

“Was she nice to you?” David joked as the boy agreed, “More than nice. She’s even hotter in person. If I had even one more minute, I’m sure I would have gotten her number.” David couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he turned to face him, “She’s in a relationship fortunately enough.”

With that, David left the convention floor to meet all of you.

-

The panel was nearing its end and David could tell you were a lot more comfortable with speaking with the crowd. Your mannerisms were now more relaxed and the fan questions seemed to be more directed towards David and Lauren. That was until a girl came up with a wide smile and your action figure in her hand.

“So my question is for (your name), I know you do a lot of TikTok’s for the films so my question is, have you seen the edits of yourself on your for you page yet?” You immediately hid your face in your hands as David stared at you, “edits? What’s that all about?” The girl immediately giggled as she whipped her phone out and brought up the edits she asked about, “you know, edits! Like fan made videos of (your name) if that makes sense?” She tried explaining.

“I have seen them but I haven’t actually watched them. I didn’t think my character was popular enough where I’d get edits of my character but I do appreciate everyone who makes them, plus, the music choices are solid,” you answered as you felt your face get warm from the looks of David and everyone else staring at you.

You gave the microphone back to the moderator as you tapped your pen in anxiousness. The looks from the crowd immediately made you flustered and you hoped that the questions were off of you for now. You knew that the panel was ending shortly with all of you agreeing to get dinner after it was over and your stomach was rumbling for the pizza you were planning on having.

It wasn’t until you heard your name being called again when you realized someone was calling for you, “sorry, I must’ve zoned out. ADHD makes me do that sometimes. Can you repeat your question again sweetheart?” You asked the fan, “I wanted to ask if you had a special someone! And if they were excited to see you make your debut for Terrifier? But if that was too personal, I guess my next question is, do you have a favorite horror film outside of the ones your in?” You bit your lip not really knowing how to answer it. Your unspoken feelings for David didn’t really count as a special someone but you knew better than to lie.

“I can hope that the special person in my life enjoys my acting considering I put my life’s work into that 30 minute screen time,” you managed to blurt out, “but to answer your other question, it definitely has to be Halloween 3, the score for the film was one of the best scores in a horror film for me personally and the movie is so underrated in my opinion.”

The girl thanked you as you gave her another smile to indicate your appreciation for her question.

Once the panel finally ended, you got up from the chair and smoothed out your skirt before jumping off the stage and getting photos with the fans who asked. David knew he wanted to wait for you as he watched your interactions with the fans from the back of the makeshift stage. Jealously was not really his strong suit as he hated that feeling all together but seeing how many men surrounded you for pictures and some even asking to get your number really irritated him. You were nice enough to decline, stating that you didn’t give out personal information to fans but you appreciated their support.

After photos and autographs, you met with David who brought you in for a hug, “you did so well out there for your first panel,” he said as you sighed in relief. “I don’t know how you do it David, all those fans staring at you at once really made me sweat through my cardigan,” you joked. David shook his head, “you were perfect even after getting asked some of those personal questions.”

“Are we still getting dinner? I’m starving and I don’t think I can wait any longer,” you said as you felt your stomach growling even more. David checked his phone to see that all of your cast mates and coworkers had left to either get more time on the convention floor or went back to their hotel rooms, “We can go get some if you want. Everyone else decided to ditch us for their partners.” He replied.

You nodded as you grabbed your bag and followed David through the back doors and into the Uber that he ordered a while ago. The two of you decided to get dinner at the restaurant that was attached to the hotel you were both staying at. It seemed fancier than what you both expected. You were in an ankle skirt and a cardigan as David sported his usual red and black flannel.

The two of you ordered a bottle of wine to start decompressing the night as you both inhaled the pizza you ordered, “I didn’t think someone would ask me about my love life but I guess everything is up for grabs when your in the spotlight,” you said through a mouthful of pizza, “and that’s to put it lightly,” David joked.

“Well, I didn’t really feel like saying that my love life was non-existent so was it wrong to lie?” You asked as you were now on your third glass of wine. David had matched your pace and the two of you were now feeling the wine in your body, “It’s not wrong to lie especially if you were doing it to protect yourself and others.” He whispered as his lips touched the rim of the glass.

You agreed as you heard one of your favorite songs start to play, “ugh, I love this song, it was my college anthem,” you stated as you immediately started to sing the lyrics. David tried hearing the song but couldn’t recognize it to save his life, “David, I really need to start schooling you in what’s popular these days and my first mission is the music of today.”

David chuckled as the two of you paid your bill. You were now walking with a bit of a wobble in your step. Both you and David were now very wine drunk but he figured he’d help you to your room before you ended up at the bar of the restaurant and asking for another bottle, “this night had to be one of the best nights of my life. Meeting all the fans, signing autographs, and even the kiss you gave me on the cheek!” You exclaimed as you put your head on his shoulder.

“You enjoyed that kiss on the cheek?” You nodded excitedly, “and here I thought you were going to leave me for that boy at the convention earlier today,” you couldn’t help but let out a dramatic laugh as you shook your head no, “He was just a fan who I knew wanted something more than my number but I guess if we’re being honest, the only man who can get what that boy wanted is you.”

You whispered that last part in his ear as he chuckled lowly, “don’t start anything you can’t finish darling,” he said lowly as you giggled in slight excitement, “I don’t start things knowing I can’t finish them,” you stated, your lips brushing against his as you were now pushed against the door to your hotel room, “but I think that’s something for you to figure out tonight, right?”

David hummed in agreement as you pushed your lips against his and started running your fingers through his hair to bring him in closer. David nipped at your lip as confirmation to continue. Your hands wandered from his hair to upper arms as you started to push off his flannel and squeeze at his shoulders.

“I think we can finish this inside,” you stated as you swiped your card over the lock and practically dragged him inside, “I want to see if the rumors are true. I need to see if Art is really packing.” You joked as you grabbed his hand and brought him into your room.

[thebreakfastgenie]

wtf are you talking about lol what am I even excusing

chain of events:

I am lying in bed scrolling tumblr. I wonder how many times my friend is going to play Abracadabra. I like the song but am currently not enjoying it because I have a headache and am feeling averse to any sound, especially pop music because of the beat. I contemplate asking my friend to stop if it goes on for too long, but for the time being it's just mild discomfort and I want him to enjoy his fun.

I see this post on my dash. I think it's funny that I am at this exact moment listening to Abracadabra on repeat despite not actually choosing to play it myself.

I reblog with tags referencing the situation and clarify that the issue is just that I have a headache and would not be listening to any pop music by choice because I don't want people to think I dislike Lady Gaga, who I like quite a bit.

You take offense to my tags and suggest I am too non-confrontational to ask my friend to turn his music down.

I explain that the reason I didn't ask him to turn it down is that it really wasn't that big a deal and that I only reblogged this post with the tags in the first place because I found the timing amusing.

currently listening to ABRACADABRA for the 666th time of the day

[quatregats]

I'm rereading Master and Commander and I'm deeply in danger of just posting every single passage from it ever but I did love the way that the capture of the prize in Chapter 6 was framed on either side by the logbook's entry, and also the way he transitions out of it to set the scene and tone:

Sunday, July 1 … Mustered the ship’s company by divisions read the Articles of War performed Divine Service and committed the body of Henry Gouges to the deep. At noon dº weather. Ditto weather: but the sun sank towards a livid, purple, tumescent cloud-bank piled deep on the western horizon, and it was clear to every seaman aboard that it was not going to remain ditto much longer. The seamen, sprawling abroad on the fo’c’sle and combing out their long hair or plaiting it up again for one another, kindly explained to the landmen that this long swell from the south and east, this strange sticky heat that came both from the sky and the glassy surface of the heaving sea, and this horribly threatening appearance of the sun, meant that there was to be a coming dissolution of all natural bonds, an apocalyptic upheaval, a right dirty night ahead. The sailormen had plenty of time to depress their hearers, already low in their spirits because of the unnatural death of Henry Gouges (had said, ‘Ha, ha, mates, I am fifty years old this day. Oh dear,’ and had died sitting there, still holding his untasted grog) – they had plenty of time, for this was Sunday afternoon, when in the course of nature the fo’c’sle was covered with sailors at their ease, their pigtails undone. Some of the more gifted had queues they could tuck into their belts; and now that these ornaments were loosened and combed out, lank when still wet, or bushy when dry and as yet ungreased, they gave their owners a strangely awful and foreboding look, like oracles; which added to the landmen’s uneasiness.

[...]

Jack leant back against the curved run of the stern-window and let Killick’s version of coffee down by gulps into his grateful stomach; and at the same time that its warmth spread through him, so there ran a lively tide of settled, pure, unfevered happiness – a happiness that another commander (remembering his own first prize) might have discerned from the log-entry, although it was not specifically mentioned there: 1/2 past 10 tacked, 11 in courses, reefed topsail. AM cloudy and rain. 1/2 past 4 chase observed E by S, distance 1/2 mile. Bore up and took possession of dº, which proved to be L’Aimable Louise, French polacre laden with corn and general merchandise for Cette, of about 200 tons, 6 guns and 19 men. Sent her with an officer and eight men to Mahon.