#But I do think if you figured out what her point was you might not have used the transsexual lesbian's quote for your article on how ...

[starkeyswomen]

❥ JUNO ━━━━━ JOE BURROW

: ̗̀➛ word count: 1.9k

: ̗̀➛ warnings: nothing really? I think

: ̗̀➛ noor speaks: this is my first time writing for Tumblr, so please give me any feedback! theirs so many talented writers on here, so I fear my Wattpad-level writing does not even begin to compare. but this is an idea that I basically think about a lot. I've had this in my drafts since December but since miss carpenter FINALLY released short n sweet deluxe, figured might as well finish it.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The night was electric.

Fans filled the sold-out paycor stadium, their glow sticks lighting up the space like a galaxy of pink and gold. The air was thick with excitement, the lingering hum of thousands of voices buzzing even after Y/N had just finished performing one of her biggest songs. The final notes of the track faded into the background as she took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the soft glow of the stage lights.

Then—she froze.

A shift in the atmosphere. A sudden, dramatic pause.

The audience sensed something coming.

Y/N took a slow step forward, pressing her mic to her lips, her expression unreadable. Her eyes scanned the massive crowd, searching, thinking, as if she had just realized something of grave importance.

Then, she whispered into the mic.

“Wait.”

The crowd’s cheers faltered slightly, their energy now laced with curiosity.

“Wait, wait, wait…”

Y/N held up a hand, signaling them to quiet down. Her gaze narrowed, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. The anticipation built as the massive screens around the venue zoomed in on her face. Then, as if she had just made the discovery of a lifetime, she let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her chest like she was shook to her core.

“Oh my God.”

The entire arena erupted.

The screams were deafening. Fans immediately started scanning the crowd, clutching at their friends, already knowing what was about to happen. Some pointed randomly, hoping it was them she was looking at. 

Y/N took another step forward, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Guys…" she whispered, as if in awe. "I think I just found my future husband."

The crowd lost their minds.

The screams doubled, fans started jumping, their voices rising to ear-splitting levels. Even her own dancers on stage turned their heads, their eyes wide with fake shock.

Y/N turned to them, placing a hand over her mic. "Girls, girls, come here."

Two of her dancers strutted over, their hips swaying dramatically like they were part of an elite investigative team.

Y/N bit her lip, looking back into the audience, then pointed. “There.”

The spotlight moved—sweeping over the crowd before stopping at a single figure standing near the barricade.

And that’s when the entire stadium imploded.

joe burrow

The camera zoomed in just as he looked up, his face suddenly plastered across the massive screens.

Baseball cap. Casual hoodie. Hands in his pockets. His head tilted slightly as he blinked, his face betraying just the slightest amount of shock.

Y/N smirked.

She shifted her weight, placing a hand on her hip. “Hey there.”

Joe hesitated, raising an eyebrow before pointing at himself, mouthing me?

Y/N nodded, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yes, you."

She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "I really, really hate to do this, but…" She placed a delicate hand over her heart, pretending to look deeply troubled.

“…you’re under arrest.”

The arena lost it.

Fans screamed. Some straight-up collapsed. Others gripped their heads, as if they had just witnessed the greates pop culture moment in history.

Joe raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as he tried so hard not to smile.

"Really?"

Y/N nodded, dead serious. "Mhm. You are simply too attractive to be standing there so casually. It’s a danger to public safety. A crime, actually."

The crowd erupted again,

Joe let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "That so?"

Y/N nodded dramatically. "Yeah. And to be completely honest…" She reached up, pretending to fan herself. "I’m actually starting to feel a little hot myself."

And just then—one of her dancers, standing strategically next her, let go of her floor-length skirt, letting it drop to the ground.

Revealing her mini pink sparkly skirt underneath.

The stadium EXPLODED.

Y/N casually stepped out of the fabric pile at her feet, flipping her hair before turning back to Joe like nothing happened.

"But uhm…" She tilted her head. "What’s your name, sir?"

Joe grinned, stepping closer to the barricade. "Joe!"

Y/N cupped her ear. "Hmm?"

Joe, laughing now, shouted louder. "Joe!"

Y/N squinted, pretending to struggle. "I still can’t hear you…" She sighed, shaking her head. "I’m afraid I’m just going to have to call you…" She smirked.

"My husband."

The SCREAMING was unreal.

Joe tilted his head back, laughing as the camera zoomed in on his blush.

Meanwhile, Y/N had fully turned away from the mic, covering her mouth with both hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. But even as she tried to compose herself, the deep pink flush across her cheeks was giving her away completely.

The entire stadium was in ruins.

She cleared her throat, biting back a smile as she casually walked over to the edge of the stage.

A pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs appeared in her hand.

She twirled them between her fingers for a moment before passing them to her security guard.

The crowd screamed even louder as the guard took them, walked over to Joe, and handed them straight to him.

Joe took them, turning them over in his hands with a smirk, before glancing back up at Y/N.

Y/N, flushed and grinning, gave a small, cheeky wave before flipping her hair and sauntering back to the middle of the stage.

"Alright, now that justice has been served…" She fixed her hair, voice slightly breathless from laughing. "Let’s get back to the music, shall we?"And just like that, the beat for juno dropped, the lights shifted, and she launched into her next song—leaving the entire world absolutely wrecked.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The buzz of the crowd’s cheers had finally begun to fade, the lights dimming as Y/N sat in the cozy confines of her trailer. The night had been absolutely electrifying—the adrenaline from performing still coursing through her veins. Her mind, however, was racing in a different direction. The last few moments on stage, arresting Joe, calling him her future husband—it all felt like a whirlwind. But the excitement hadn’t quite settled yet.

She stepped toward the mirror, her eyes going over herself, internally reflecting on the emotions she’d just experienced. The crowd’s energy, the humor, the spontaneous arrest—it was fun, but now, in the quiet of the trailer, she found herself wondering what came next. The door to her trailer was still locked, her safe space away from the chaos outside.

Suddenly, a knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. She hurried to open the door, her breath catching in her throat.

Joe Burrow

her boyfriend

Before she could say a word, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up in a warm, familiar embrace. His hands cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer, and she let out a soft sigh against his chest.

“You did wonderful, baby,” Joe whispered into her hair, his voice low and tender.

Y/N smiled, feeling the tension in her body release from the comfort of his arms. "Thank you, Joey," she murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “And thank you for agreeing to let me arrest you. I know it was out of your comfort zone.”

Joe chuckled softly, his hands slipping to her waist as he gazed down at her. “You kidding? I would do anything for you, Y/N.”

Her heart fluttered, the sweet sincerity in his words making her feel like the luckiest person alive. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through her chest at the thought of him being so supportive. The way he looked at her—it was like nothing else mattered, like they were the only two people in the world.

He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It was as if he was savoring the moment, drawing her in with each tender motion. Y/N melted into him, her hands resting on his chest as the kiss deepened.

But soon, the kiss grew more urgent, the need between them building in a way that was undeniable. Y/N could feel the intensity rising, the pull of desire swirling around them. Joe’s hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, but she could sense the urgency in the kiss, the way it was becoming more than just a simple expression of love.

Not here. Not now.

Y/N broke away from the kiss, breathless. “Joey…” she mumbled against his lips, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. She felt his body tense against hers, but he didn’t pull away. instead, moving forward until they were both now sitting on the couch in the trailer.

“Hmmm?” he hummed, his hands still resting on her lower back as he nuzzled her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

“We can’t,” she said softly, her voice shaking slightly. She wanted him, more than anything, but the reality of the situation hit her—anyone could walk in at any moment. They were in her trailer, the door just a few feet away from where they stood. The risk was too great.

Joe groaned in frustration but didn’t let go. “Baby, you look so…” His words trailed off as he rubbed her lower back gently, his fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her top. “So damn beautiful.”

Y/N smiled despite herself, her heart fluttering at the way he looked at her. She could feel the heat rising between them again, the magnetic pull she had always felt with Joe. She wanted nothing more than to give in to it, to let the world fall away and just be with him.

But she knew they couldn't. it's too risky.

“Joey…” She bit her lip, trying to resist the temptation to kiss him again. “We have to wait until we get home.”

Joe pouted, a look of pure disappointment crossing his features. He dropped his hands from her waist, staring at her with those puppy-dog eyes that always made her question everything.

Y/N couldn’t help herself. She laughed, her fingers finding his jaw again as she pulled him closer. “Oh, come on, baby,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re such a tease.”

Joe’s pout turned into a smile as she kissed him back, this time slower, more deliberate. Y/N melted into him, her hands trailing up to his hair as the kiss deepened once again.

But before things could escalate further, she pulled away, breathless. “We really have to wait,” she said, giving him a playful push.

Joe let out a resigned sigh, but he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re killing me here,” he muttered, but his tone was warm, filled with love and affection.

“I know, but…” Y/N looked at him seriously for a moment. “It’s good to wait, builds up the tension Joey.”

Joe grinned, his arms slipping around her once more. “oh, I've heard.” he whispered, his voice laced with affection.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Good,” she said with a smile.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the trailer seemed so far away. The chaos of the concert, the fans screaming her name, it all felt distant. In this moment, it was just her and Joe, lost in the quiet connection they shared.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Let’s just say—you didn’t move the entire next day.

She was sore in places she didn’t even know existed, her body still aching from the night before. And honestly? She didn’t care. The memory of last night played on a loop in her mind as she stayed wrapped in the warmth of their sheets, Joe’s peaceful snores filling the room.

[strwberri-milk]

can i request the boys thinking mc is cheating bc she’s been acting off and hanging with other people, then they confront her but learn later that it’s something else that’s been going on (like her wanting to keep a problem hidden from them) angsty or fluffy ending it’s up to you im just craving angst 😓

Zayne doesn't want to directly confront you. He's terrified that somehow, he'll mess everything up and that right now, not knowing is better than confirming his fear. He'll just continue observing you for a bit, trying to figure out if there's something that can definitively point towards you actually having an affair. Your behaviour is strange but he won't feel too concerned until you start actively pulling affection away from him. That's when he's going to really start panicking. He doesn't know what he's done or said to make you take such a drastic step in your relationship and this is absolutely going to devastate him.

He'll talk to you one evening after you come home late. He tries to open it up by telling you that if it's something he's said or done to you then he's sorry and he promises he'll do whatever it takes to fix things between the two of you. It's you, and it's always been you. He can't even fathom being with anybody that isn't you. He'll ramble a little for once, not really able to accurately use his words as he tries to express how much he loves you.

You realise very quickly where he's going with all of this, immediately shutting him down as you tell him that you aren't seeing somebody else. He listens with bated breath to try and comprehend everything you're telling him, praying that you aren't lying to him because if you were, it'd definitely break him.

You'd probably have to ruin the surprise if you wanted him to feel fully secure after this conversation, especially since you also were hanging off of people when you normally don't seem to. He might feel a little insecure about your relationship for a while before settling into the routine again with you, but as long as you're wholly honest with him it'll pass fairly quickly.

Xavier wants to follow you around but he also knows it'd piss you off if he did. He'll just start paying more attention to events when the two of you are together and even more attention to things if it seems you're purposefully not inviting him to something. He's trying to understand why and what for, not wanting to directly accuse you but his jealousy definitely ramps up.

You'd have to talk to him as he slowly starts to escalate, becoming more pissy if you have plans with friends or when he responds poorly to you taking calls in his presence. He doesn't really say too much but he does make it very clear just how displeased he is with the look on his face or the way he practically grabs you whenever you're doing things with him.

He gets a little rougher with you overall - not in a painful way, in a distracted, irritated way. He doesn't want to hurt you on purpose and typically you don't really respond to this difference in pressure because it's nothing crazy but you can tell that he's starting to really internalise everything that's happening around him. When you do talk to him he listens with a furrow in his brow, trying to figure out if you're telling him the truth, or this is some elaborate lie for you to throw him off your scent.

He believes you pretty quickly but he is also going to be really skeevy about letting you do things without him for a bit. He just wants to spend time with you after all and after all this emotional turmoil you owe him a few stress-free dates.

Rafayel is not pleased. He makes it clear the second he thinks something is wrong by being colder and less affectionate with you. He isn't wholly above following you and figuring out who you're hanging out with, trying to figure out if there really is a chance that you are trying to have an affair.

You'd get some emotional whiplash from how differently he's acting, how he's making it clear that you've wronged him somehow but he isn't going to talk to you about it. He's avoidant, waiting for you to admit the truth. He's also patient, which means you could be iced out for weeks if you decide not to talk to him about what's happening.

He might spoil the surprise for himself if he goes fully into surveillance after which he'd just tell you that he figured out what you were hiding from him. You'd be a little disappointed but also more concerned as to how he managed to figure it out without tipping you off. He won't tell you at all about how he got the information - just that he did.

If he decides not to stalk you a little you'd have to ask him why he's so mad at you. He'd tell you that he's just treating you the same way you've been treating him, and that as far as he's concerned, this is deserved. You'd have to tell him the truth and why you've been hiding all this information from him - after which he will brighten up significantly. He'll say something about how he's never doubted you, yadda yadda yadda but he's definitely more clingy now than before from his nerves finally starting to settle.

Sylus doesn't want to monitor you either and decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. He's fairly secure in your relationship and knows that he hasn't done anything to make you want to cheat but he does feel himself faltering if you're becoming prone to laughing at your phone or trying to hide it from him. He won't ask for it but you can see that he's starting to get suspicious.

He would leave it alone until you reveal to him your surprise. By then he's still feeling fairly anxious but when you reveal that your behaviour was all just a result of you trying to plan something for him then he'll relax a little, thanking you for the effort you went through. You can tell that he's very glad that you've finally come clean when he holds your hand tightly, practically clinging to you as he thanks you.

He'll plan some more elaborate dates for you after the reveal, making it clear that he's missed your attention being solely on him. You don't really mind though since he's basically throwing money at you, spoiling you silly and reminding you just how much he's willing to do for you.

[comicaurora]

hi, you seem to be drawing a lot. can you please tell me, will drawing ever become easy? or is it always a struggle?

(because for me, drawing seems like a neverending fight against artblock, and at this point, i start wondering if it's not really artblock, but instead it's just the reality of art making)

It's not so much that it becomes easy. It's more that you'll find new things about it that are hard.

Art will never become effortless because you will start finding new challenges to wrangle with, but the act of wrangling them is a good part of the fun. Finding new visual effects you struggle to capture or comprehend the shape of, let alone put down on paper. You might start off struggling to render shadows on a figure, and then as you progress you start wondering how to do shadows of foliage, or caustics of light projected through water, or how glowing eyes would cast shadows on a face, etc. New complexities reveal themselves as old struggles are mastered.

If you're struggling with something that feels like artblock, the problem might not be in your hands, but in your eyes. What to draw is at least as much of a challenge as how to draw it. If you notice your eyes snagging on small details or vistas and you catch yourself trying to work out how to capture that effect, that's your artist eyes at work, and the better you get, the weirder your artist eyes will make you.

There's an exercise my mom recommends that she got from her old teacher: three life drawings a day. Of anything - a chair, a glass of water, a tree, someone's dog, your own hand. I think this is less about honing your techniques and more about honing your eyes, training them to snag on everyday things and observe their complexities, the nuances, the way they really look, not just the way you think of them looking.

When you're a kid and you're drawing your first landscape, it's probably a house and a tree under a yellow sun in a blue sky. The tree looks like a lollipop, the house looks like a box with a hat, the sun is an egg yolk surrounded by lines, the sky is the bluest crayon you have. Maybe it has fluffy clouds in it if you were thinking ahead, cuz it's hard to draw white crayon or pencil over already blue drawings. This hypothetical drawing is a pure manifestation of art without artist's eyes; it is made entirely of what you understand things to look like, not how you see them. No real tree looks like a green lollipop. The sun is a blazing white ball that shades half of the dome of the sky in painfully bright white, and the sky is only blue in the loosest sense - even without clouds or sunsets confusing things, the sky will always fade to a lighter shade closer to the horizon. It is never uniform blue. Clouds usually look like shredded cottonballs around the edges, not fluffy rounded boubas.

This awareness extends to more complicated things. We know glass is clear. When we draw something made of glass, how can we capture that clarity? Do we just draw the outline, maybe some token specular highlights to show that it's catching the light? Or do we render the way it bends and distorts the image passing through it? We know gold is yellow and shiny; do we draw it as a yellow sparkly thing, or do we capture how it reflects the space around it? We know that water is blue and reflective. Do we draw it like we would draw a shiny blue car? Do we render a glass of water like a blue raspberry icee?

Actively perceiving the world as it is takes work and practice, but it's a vital component in all art - even completely fantastical art that is not at all drawn from life references. Skin has a particular luminosity to it, subcutaneous scattering of light that is inobvious if you just know that Skin Looks Like A Color. Even if you're painting a goblin or a mermaid or a centaur, capturing how the light hits their skin can make the difference between them looking like an action figure and looking like a living thing. If you're painting a landscape that isn't earth, it helps to have observed what earth's clouds and atmosphere really look like, how they catch and scatter the light. You have to know the rules in order to break the rules.

I can honestly say it never gets easy, but it does become a lot of fun, and if you're currently struggling to find the fun of it, it will get better the more you hone your eyes.

[theotherchaospixel]

Her voice boomed, echoed, reverberated across time.

Truth be told, it was really boring. Infinity is just one of those things humans don't understand right. Before I did anything, there was nothing. Nothing, nothing, & more nothing. An infinite nothing. A lot of it. I'm sure you've written before.

Yeah? So what if I have? I could feel Her invisible hand pointing my head down, toward the rock at my feet. A pebble, really, and that was an overstatement.

I'm sure you're aware of the pit in your stomach that grows as you stare at an empty page. Imagine that feeling, multiplied by 6.

I stifled a laugh. Why 6? I could feel Her roll their eyes, if She had eyes, if there were eyes to speak of anywhere, and after a moment, the rock looked at me. With the eyes it didn't have.

It took 6 days before I even started thinking about doing anything, obviously! On the 7th, just before I resolved to spend the next week making life, time, space, the void, stars, nebulae, galaxies, & of course, Saturn, I looked at my clock & panicked, realizing how close to the date I was.

I couldn't quite make sense of what She was telling me. Days? Clock? Date? I thought time didn't exist before that week.

It didn't.

That was where Her thought ended. Silence fell across the plane, across the gaping canyon before me, after me, around me. Minutes passed, centuries passed, empires fell to dust; the rock at my feet wore away into nothing then reconstituted itself. It had been about 5 seconds.

Confusing, I know. That's how the art of creation tends to be. It gets hard to know where you end & the art begins.

None of this really answered my question. What was the nothing like? I could feel the inferno in Her heart, the tsunamis in Her eyes, the earthquakes in Her feet, the tornados in Her hands, as she fidgeted. I'm getting on Her nerves. Not great. I know She's my friend, but making a friend mad was always the last thing I wanted.

The first 6 days were boring, the 7th was stressful, what you want from me, Larry?!?

What was it like though?!? Were you hungry? Did you do it because you wanted to, or because you had to? Her voice echoed again. It was my voice. The rock nudged my feet a bit.

Why do you do anything? Because you have to, or because you want to, or because you need to?

The rock looked up at me again. It wasn't mine before, but somehow, it was now. It was always Hers, but there was something else there now, something ineffable. A love, almost. She sighed. The clouds parted & danced.

On the first day, before time began, there was nothing. It was dark. Second day, same as the first. You get the idea. A whole lot of nothing, but not like when you look up into the night sky and see the spaces between stars nothing; more like when you go to sleep and dream sweet nothings, that kind of nothing. It was like that all seven days, really.

I didn't understand. Things happened in dreams, after all; they were far from nothing. And reading my mind like a book, She continued.

You know how, when you stare at a blank page for long enough, you can see small designs, patterns in the pulp that made it? How if you stare at the floor for long enough, you can see pictures, stories that never happened? How when you look up at the clouds, you see things within them, even though you know that they're just random formations of dust & water vapor? Imagine the page, the patterns, the clouds required in order to see everything that ever was, ever is, & ever will be. Imagine the detail & size of the floor required in order to see all that ever might be. Now, take a step back. It's a blank canvas again. Focus on any part, and you could see everything. People come & go. Empires rise & fall. Seasons change. Time goes on. Step back again, and it's still a blank canvas. Infinite possibility, if you can only bring yourself to paint. Once I had the canvas, it took me several days just gather up the gall to do anything with it, and a whole other day to figure out what. An infinity of possibility, a true, endless ocean of choices.

And this is what you came up with?

Yeah. Pretty cool, right?

I wasn't impressed. And as if She knew it, Her deft, invisible hand pushed my head down to the rock once more.

Look at this pebble. Not impressive, right? Hardly bigger than an eraser. But it's been around the world three separate times. And inside it once. I mean, if you count all of it as one thing, and I know you do. A bit of sand off the coast of what you know now as California, 40 billion years ago, drifted off to sea. Decades later, it washed up on the shore of what is currently Japan. It sat there for a while, as more bits of sand slowly built on top of it. Just a couple million years. Then slowly, over several million more years, the winds carried it across the continent, inch by inch, molecule by molecule. It ended up inside a volcano for a few millennia. And now it's here. Really, it's basically a whole different rock than it started, but it never changed in big swathes. So, that's neat. Billions of years, all to get here, to be in the same room as you & me.

But what was Her point?

My point is that I really can't explain to you what it was like before I made everything. I could swarm you with half a trillion analogies & metaphors & anecdotes & stories, but I'll never be able to explain it to you in full. But if you've written - & I know you have, Larry, you scoundrel, writing things like that - but if you've written, I think you get it. If you've painted, or knit, or drawn, or coded, or sewn, or sung, or played or danced or thrashed or cooked, you get it. Before there is anything, there is love & a dream, and you'd be amazed how far that can take you.

.

.

.

.

.

So it was kinda boring?

Yeah it was kinda boring.

"Hey god?" "Yes, Larry?" "You existed before the universe, right? And supposedly always existed?" "Yes, that's true." "What was infinity like, before you made the universe?" "Ah. Not one human has asked me that before. Well, I guess it's time I tell someone about before the first 7 days."

[sentientcave]

Swallow My Pride

Simon spots you across the bar. You're a long way from the little girl that used to torment him in primary, but that's alright. These days he's got a soft spot for beautiful men.

Contains: FtM!Reader, Reader bullied Simon in primary school, alcohol/bar mention, smoking, oral sex (Simon receiving), Reader has hair long enough to pull a little, Implied fibre arts, abrupt ending because I wasn't gonna get into all that. Maybe later.

1.1k ~ MDNI ~ 18+

It figured that you'd be gorgeous now.

He almost didn't recognize you. Probably would have missed you entirely if not for the long, searching glance you'd given him, like he was familiar too. Back then you were a skinny, mouthy little bitch that made his life miserable until you moved away, and now you were a handsome, self-assured man, filled out strong and a little soft. Standing with your friends, laughing. They obviously didn't know that you were a venomous little viper under that easy smile and oversized, hand-knit sweater with wonky cables on the front.

The lads noticed his silence and singular focus. Johnny started acting up some, like he always did when Simon paid too much attention to another man.

"Y'gonna talk to the pretty boy?" he asked, exasperated. "Or jest leer at'm all night?"

"If you don't, I might," Gaz said. "It's cold out these days and he looks like he's comfortable to have a lie in with."

"Fine. I'll talk to 'im." Simon stood and shouldered his way over to you, cutting a swathe through the crowd of people lingering by the bar, and put a big hand on your shoulder. "Wanna talk t'you," he rumbled. "Follow me."

"Hey, what the fuck," one of your friends said hotly. "Don't be rude."

Simon glared at her, ready to snap, but you quickly put yourself between. "It's okay. I know him."

Simon steered you outside and shoved you up against the wall. "Recognize me, do you?"

"Of course. Thought you were dead, though. Saw you here a couple months back. Kept coming back, thinking I had to be nuts." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm surprised you recognize me."

"Maybe I wouldn't've, if I'd ever seen you as a woman. But we were kids. You've changed, but I know you."

You had been the worst thing in his life, outside of his home. Quick to point out his hand-me-downs and his shaggy hair, to knock things out of his hands. If you’d been a boy back then, he would have just punched your lights out, but even then he knew better than to hit a girl. You were fair game for a fight now, as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t really that interested in fighting. Especially when you were giving him that kicked puppy stare, regret written all over your face.

Regret was a powerful motivator, and he liked the idea of you trying to make it right. He liked the idea of seeing what he could get out of it too.

"I never got to apologize. When I heard-- Fuck, you've been through it. Apologies don't seem like enough." You look at him, big eyes and soft mouth. So fucking pretty.

"It's not enough. Don't want to 'ear it anyway. Want to make it up to me?" He waits for your nod, then reaches for his belt. "Suck me off. Right 'ere."

You look stunned for a moment. He expected to to stalk off back inside-- He didn't really want an apology, didn't think there was any making up for it, not really. Just wanted to push your buttons a bit, more than anything else.

But you dropped to your knees on the dirty ground, and waited, patient as a well trained dog. "Good boy," Simon grunted, pulling out his cock. He liked the way your big eyes got bigger, a gleam of want in them. You'd grown up to be a proper slag. He slapped his cock against your cheek, and you turned to catch it, sliding your lips and tongue along the side.

"This why you 'ad t'be such a cunt back then?" he asked, grabbing your hair to keep you from sinking your mouth down onto his cock. "Wanted me so bad an' couldn't say so?"

You glare at him from the ground. "Do you want the apology or the head, Riley?"

"Makin' me choose, are you?" He let go of your hair, however, his laugh turning to a groan as you sucked the head of his cock into your hot mouth, tongue lapping at his slit to taste the bead of bitter precum.

He was going to be more of a dick about it, but he couldn't get a word in. You worked his cock like you were made for it, working your hand over the shaft when you lapped at the tip, swallowing around him when you sank all the way down, taking him into your throat, bobbing your head back and forth, spit dribbling down your chin and his balls, messy, like you knew that was just how he liked it.

He managed to communicate that he was going to cum, enough that you let him pop free and pump his come onto your waiting tongue, purposely missing a little, his come glistening on your cheek and caught just slightly in your hair. You swallow, grimacing slightly at the taste.

"You ever eat anythin' that has a lick of nutritional value?" you gripe, using your fingers to scrape his come off your cheek and into your mouth anyway.

"Get your trousers off an' I'll eat your cunt," he offered, groaning again when you sucked him into your mouth again, cleaning off the mess. "If y’still ‘ave one. Christ. I'm takin' you 'ome either way." He lit a cigarette, glancing at the door when it pushed open, ready to bark, relaxing when he realized it was just Soap and Gaz. "Hey, lads."

You side eyed them, but you finished your job first, sitting back on your heels and wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Simon tucked himself away again. Gaz and Soap stood there, gaping like fish until you stood up.

"That's gotta be a record," Gaz said. "You haven't been gone ten minutes."

"Well, pretty boy knows what 'e likes." Simon dropped a hand on top of your head and pulled you close to his side before you could duck out of the conversation. "Don't go, pup. Figure you owe the lads an apology too. You're the reason I'm so mean, and they've 'ad t'deal with it all this time." He slid his hand down the side of your face and hooked his fingers into your mouth roughly. "What d'you think?"

You look at the other two. Gaz was trying to look nonplussed as he lit his cigarette, but there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eyes. Soap wasn't even bothering to be subtle. He looked you up and down, palming himself through his jeans.

You shove Simon's hand out of your mouth, grinning. "Oh, he's been real mean, has he?"

Soap stepped in closer, his fingers hooking into your pocket to reel himself in next to you. "He's been a nightmare. Yeh gonna make up for it?"

"Can try. Riley's always been pretty determined t'be a cunt though. It's not all my fault."

“Need to say goodbye to your friends?” Gaz asked.

“Nah. It was a date. Didn’t really like them anyway. Felt like they were just looking for a compromise between addin’ a man or a woman to their failing marriage. Not really keen to get into all that. This sounds more fun.”

Simon chuckled. “Good choice, pup. Let’s get goin’.”

I've been rotating this thought in my mind since I read this fic by @/soapcloth about Soap being Reader's childhood bully. Read that, and then all the other stuff they've posted because there's some very fun stuff and I highly recommend their work.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[glamourscat]

FLOWERS? ISAGI YOICHI X READER

the bastard münchen vs pxg match HAS FINALLY ENDED. A lil (late Valentine’s) childhood bestie! x Isagi fic because I love him so much

Pathetic.

That’s how Isagi felt; truly and utterly pathetically in love.

It was foolish of him, really, falling for his childhood best friend. The one person who knew him better than anyone else, the one constant in his life. And yet, he had fallen anyway.

He had known you since before you could even string proper sentences together, back when the biggest problem in your tiny world was who got to play with the fluffy teddy bear. He had been there for every phase of your life, just as you had been for his.

The bad haircuts, the breakouts, the braces. The cringe stylistic choices that made you both groan whenever old pictures resurfaced. The triumphs and failures, the reckless dreams and harsh realities. Every best and worst moment you had been by each other’s side.

And because of that, maybe he should have realized sooner.

Your parents, his parents, had always teased. “You two will end up together eventually.” A statement so casual, so inevitable in their wise eyes. Maybe that was why he held back for so long. Maybe it was out of sheer defiance, or maybe it was the terrifying truth that you already saw him. Every flaw, every insecurity, every crack in his carefully built walls.

And yet, you still chose to stay.

To love someone who truly sees you, all of you, and still stays by your side? That scared the shit out of him.

But Blue Lock is over now. He felt like he had aged thirty years in that soccer prison, but it had been worth it. Because now, he was here. Walking freely through the streets with the weight of his dream in his hands. He was part of Japan’s World Cup team.

And you, his best friend, his everything, would be by his side, not just as his anchor but also as the team’s manager.

Isagi exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the selection of flowers before him.

He had faced some of the greatest strikers in the world. Outwitted geniuses on the field. Fought, struggled, won.

And yet, confessing to you on Valentine’s Day? Felt like the biggest challenge he had to yet face.

“Roses are too much, right?” he mumbled under his breath, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stared at the bouquets like they were an opposing team’s defensive lineup. Puzzle pieces hardly connecting in his brain. “I mean… yeah, they literally scream romance, but isn’t that kind of obvious? Too predictable? Shit.”

The old lady behind the counter glanced at him, unimpressed. She had seen countless lovesick fools in this exact position before, hell, today alone and Isagi fell right into that category.

Tulips? Too plain. Sunflowers? You might think he was calling you bright and cheerful, which—yeah, fair, but what if you took it as a joke? Lilies? What do lilies even mean?!

“You need help?” the florist finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he admitted immediately. “I mean—yes? No. I’m just trying to figure out what flowers match a card that I, uh, may or may not have rewritten six times… as a valentines gift. Which turned out fine! I think. Maybe. Hopefully.”

The florist hummed, giving him a long, knowing look before glancing at the selection in front of her. “Alright, what kind of message are we going for here? Romantic? Sweet? ‘I’ve been in love with you since childhood and only just realized it because I’m a dumbass’?”

Isagi choked. “Why would you say it like that?!”

She gave him the flattest stare of his life. “Because that’s exactly what’s happening.”

He groaned, running a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, fair point.”

The florist smirked before plucking a bouquet from the display. “Here. Go with these. A mix of daisies, lavender and forget-me-nots. It says you care, but you’re not coming on too strong. Subtle romance, but meaningful. Perfect for an idiot in denial.”

He took the bouquet, staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe. “Huh. Yeah. This… this actually works. How did you—”

“Experience, kid. Now go before you start overthinking again.”

Isagi nodded, clutching the flowers like they were the winning ball in a match. Alright. Flowers? Check. Card? Done—well, kind of. Cake? As good as it was gonna get.

Now, he just had to actually go back home and give them to you.

…Oh, shit.

This was really happening.

This might actually kill him.

He is pretty sure his heart is beating faster than the last goal he scored while playing for bastard münchen. He feels like throwing up. Was this normal? Probably not. But despite everything he wants you to know. He needs you to know that at the end of the day, pathetic or not, Isagi Yoichi is in love with you. And it was damn time he did something about it.

But for his luck, as he walked out of the flower shop, he almost crashed into someone.

“I am so—“ before he could even get the words out his soul almost came out of his body.

YOU. Out of everyone, you. In front of him. With a bouquet of flowers too. Wait, FLOWERS? Who— you…. Did— who gave you those?

“Yoichi” you say, words coming out slightly higher pitched than intended, trying to act normal, but you’re pretty sure the panicked expression you were trying to fight off with a smile came off more as you were constipated, more than anything else.

“Y/n” he says, seemingly unaware of your mental state, thankfully? Or maybe you should be worried that he was so oblivious to it.

“ Are you g—“

“Who— gave you those?” He said so quickly, not even allowing you to finish your sentence.

Your eyes fall to the flowers in your arms, if your cheeks weren’t red before, you’re pretty sure they are now.

“Who gave you those?” you say, nodding to the flowers he had in his arms. Trying to change the subject.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second”

A moment of silence before you two burst out laughing from the strange moment.

“Alright— alright. On the count of three? Together?” You says amused

One. Two. Three.

“I got them from you” you two say in unison.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

That’s what his brain was screaming. He probably looked like an absolute moron, standing there with a confused expression and jaw open as he looked at you. Huh? Him? YOU GOT FLOWERS FOR HIM— AKCKEPWLCNGIVVIFNRNWPW.

“You— eh?”

That was it. That was all his brain could come up with. World-class striker, future ace of Japan, but the second you said you got flowers for him? Immediate system failure.

You smiled, shy but warm, the edges of your expression softening in that way that was playful yet so beautiful. It made his heart feel like it was about to spontaneously combust. “Yeah, you—is that so weird?”

Yes. No. Maybe. His brain was still rebooting.

“You—you got me flowers?” he repeated, as if the words might make more sense if he said them out loud.

“I mean, yeah,” you said, shifting your weight from foot to foot. The bouquet in your arms crinkled as you fidgeted with the wrapping. “It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it? I figured i had to be clear because you’re so dense sometimes.”

“I’m not dense!” he argued immediately.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little dense,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out the rest of the world. “But—wait, why did you…?”

The words hung heavy in the air. Why did you get me flowers?

You took a shaky breath. “Because I like you, idiot.”

“I—wait—what?” He blinked, gripping his bouquet tighter like it might hold him upright. “Like… like-like?”

“Damn… and you say you aren’t dense” a small snort left your lips. “Yes, like-like!” you huffed, but your voice trembled a little. “I’ve… kinda liked you for a while. And I figured—if I didn’t say anything today, I’d probably chicken out forever and cry myself to sleep for the next month. Maybe two.”

“You like me,” he repeated dumbly, trying to wrap his head around it.

You tilted your head, exasperated. “Yoichi, please tell me those flowers are for me or am I about to die of embarrassment right now?”

“What? NO—I mean, yes! Yes, I like you too!” The words practically exploded out of him, way louder than he meant to. “I’ve liked you since—God, I don’t even know when. Probably since that stupid teddy bear fight when we were kids.. And—” Lord, he is rambling now. “And I have made you a card. A beautiful one, I think you will like it. And a cake. Though I burnt it the first time. Maybe the second time too. But, fuck yes, I like you too”

For a second, neither of you said anything. You just stood there, two idiots clutching flowers, blushing like middle schoolers with their first crushes.

Finally, you exhaled, shaking your head as you tried not to laugh. “Wow. We’re really bad at this.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “But, like… at least we’re bad at it together?”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. “Together, huh?”

“I mean… if you want that. If you want me.” He said, trying not to look more giddy than he already is.

“I wouldn’t be standing here holding flowers and trying to not burst into flames after a confession that I definitely did not rehearse in my head twenty times for you if I didn’t, genius.”

In a rush of courage, Isagi moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, bouquets squished in between your guys’ chests. You smelled like warmth and home.

“Can I—uh,” he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, “can I kiss you?”

“Yoichi, if you don’t kiss me after all that, I’ll start overthinking and we know—.”

He doesn’t need anything else. His smile shushed you, as his lips finally met yours in a kiss that was a bit messy, yet soft and sweet. You tasted like that tea you like so much. A mix of honey, flowers and sugar that makes him greedy for more. Despite being in the middle of the sidewalk and in retrospect, he will for sure be embarrassed about the pda later.

But that’s a problem for later. Because the realisation that fuck yes, he is finally kissing you, settles in. And for the first time that day, but perhaps in his entire life, his brain went completely and blissfully quiet.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[rosones]

social media au - being an actress dating choi seunghyun pt. 6

liked by y/n, & 2,484,212 others

ttt ✓ - more to come

view comments

user - he gives 2016 tumblr vibes sooooo much

user - he NEEDS to post more selfies

user - my husband fr

user - maybe babygirl is a 37 year old Korean man named choi seunghyun

y/n ✓ - mr yummy

liked by author

liked by y/n, xxxibgdrgn, & 6,381,798 others

ttt ✓ - EXILE , THE ALBUM . 5.5.25

view comments

user - we are SO back

userlikesphotography231 - is this a drawing of y/n??

user - /@userlikesphotography231 considering the gorgeous silhouette + the fact that Top is obsessed with her, most likely is her lol

xxxibgdrgn ✓ - so happy for you, my brother 🤍🌼

ttt ✓ - /@xxxibgdrgn 🤍🤍🤍

user - so fucking excited for his comeback

user - as a VIP, I used to pray for times like this 🥹

user - already album of the year and it ain’t even out yet

liked by y/n, xxxibgdrgn, gq, & 7,342,447 others

ttt ✓ - Vogue Korea

view comments

user - he’s SO fine

user - y/n better share him

y/n ✓ - MY man

liked by author

user - this made my hole weak

user - jawline sculpted by the gods

the following article was written by journalist Kim Do-Yun & published by Vogue Korea .

T.O.P Returns: A Candid Conversation on Redemption, Love, and ‘Exile’

By: Kim Do-Yun

Choi Seung-hyun—better known as T.O.P. for years, was one of K-pop’s most enigmatic figures: a deep-voiced rapper, a captivating performer, an artist who thrived in mystery. But mystery turned to scandal when his 2017 marijuana case sent shockwaves through South Korea’s entertainment industry. The fallout was brutal, the silence that followed even more so.

Now, after years spent in near-complete solitude, he’s back—not just with music, but with acting, love, and a newfound perspective on life.

Throughout my interview with him, he exuded a quiet confidence, different from the playful arrogance he once carried as a member of BIGBANG. He has always been measured in his words, but that day, there was something more—an openness, a willingness to be seen for who he truly is, not just who the public wants him to be.

Facing the Shadows

“I won’t pretend it was easy,” he admitted. “There was a time when I thought I might never return to music or acting. I felt like I had lost the right to stand in front of people again.”

Following the scandal, T.O.P withdrew almost entirely from the entertainment world. There were sporadic updates—glimpses of his art collection, a few cryptic Instagram posts—but nothing substantial.

“I needed time,” he said simply. “Time to understand my own mind, my mistakes, and what I wanted from life. I spent years writing & making music with no intention of releasing it. It was a way of surviving, I think. But at some point, I realized I didn’t just want to create in the shadows anymore.”

That realization birthed his upcoming album, Exile, a deeply personal project that delves into themes of isolation, redemption, and transformation.

The Concept Behind Exile

“I see Exile as a letter to my past self,” he explained. “It’s about being cast out—sometimes by others, but more often by yourself. It’s about wandering, finding meaning in solitude, and ultimately, choosing to return.”

The album is a drastic departure from his earlier work, blending experimental hip-hop and jazz influences. The soundscape is layered, atmospheric—reflecting the emotional depth of a man who has lived through both adoration and condemnation.

“There’s pain in the music, but there’s also hope,” he continued. “It’s not just about suffering—it’s about what comes after. How do you rebuild yourself when the world thinks you’ve already fallen?”

The lead single, Ashes, encapsulates this journey. “It’s about burning down what no longer serves you and rising from it,” he explained. “Not in a dramatic way—no big explosion. Just embers, slow and steady, turning into something new.”

Reclaiming His Place in Acting: ‘Squid Game’ and Thanos

But music isn’t the only thing marking T.O.P’s return. His casting in Netflix’s Squid Game Season 2 sent fans into a frenzy, a bold choice for an artist who had stayed away from the spotlight for so long.

“I never thought I’d act again,” he admitted. “I had offers over the years, but I wasn’t ready. Then I read the script for Squid Game 2, and something in me woke up. It was exactly the kind of story I wanted to tell.”

In the highly anticipated sequel to the global phenomenon, T.O.P plays Thanos, a complex and ruthless figure within the deadly games. Unlike the participants struggling to survive, Thanos is a former winner—one who chose to return.

“He’s not a traditional villain,” T.O.P clarified. “He’s someone who understands the system better than anyone else. He’s cold, calculating, but not without emotion. He knows what it takes to survive, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes—not for money, but for something deeper. Something he lost.”

The role demanded an emotional transformation. “The hardest part was getting into his mindset. Thanos isn’t just playing the game—he’s manipulating it. He’s someone who has seen too much, lost too much.”

The weight of the character stayed with him long after filming wrapped. “I think I related to him more than I expected,” he admitted. “Not in his actions, but in his solitude. In that feeling of being outside of everything, even when you’re in the center of it.”

Love & Chaos

It was on the Squid Game set that T.O.P met someone who would change everything—his co-star, Y/N. Their connection, first built through long filming days, soon grew into something deeper.

“She saw me for who I was, not just who the world made me out to be,” he said, a softness in his voice. “There’s something freeing about that—being with someone who knows both your darkness and your light and chooses to stay anyway.”

For someone who spent so long rebuilding himself alone, letting someone in was no easy task. “I used to think love was another thing I had lost the right to,” he confessed. “But she changed that.”

Their relationship became public in a way that no one expected—through a series of intimate photos posted on Instagram. They felt raw, real, and unlike other polished celebrity relationships.

“I was nervous,” T.O.P admitted. “Not because I was ashamed—but because I knew how people might react. I knew what it meant to expose something so personal in a place where people think they have the right to dissect every part of your life.”

Y/N, however, had a different perspective. “She told me, ‘Why should we hide something that makes us happy?’ And she was right,” he said. “For so long, I lived in fear of what people would say. But love isn’t something to be ashamed of. If anything, it’s something to be proud of.”

Now, with both Exile and Squid Game, their love story is no longer a secret—but he’s still extremely protective of it. “I don’t need people to approve,” he said. “I just need her.”

Looking Ahead

As our conversation started nearing its end, I asked him what he hoped people will take away from his return.

“I don’t expect everyone to forgive me, and I don’t expect to go back to who I was before. That person is gone,” he said. “But I hope people will listen. Not just to the music, but to the story behind it. I hope they see that exile isn’t the end—it’s just another beginning.”

With Exile set to drop and his acting career reignited, T.O.P is stepping into the spotlight once again—not as the idol he once was, but as an artist and a man who has found his way back from the shadows.

——————————————————————————————————

I wanted to write that little article portion because I wanted to add something unique to this fic, this part is also why I took a little long to post something new !! I haven’t written like an actual piece of writing on this account so I’m like excited and nervous at the same time lol. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it !! xx

[theotherrookie]

"Yeah, he is." Erica replied. Smokey let out a small mew as he was petted again. He definitely knew how to be overly dramatic as he rolled on his back. Oh, how difficult it was to be a kitten.

"Lucien probably went through him like a supermarket flyer by now." Rook said, motioning dismissively with her hand, "Let's hope they find out something useful between all the screams."

Ratchet was awful and would rightfully get punched in the face as soon as she had the chance, but dragging this on was starting to affect them as well and they shouldn't ignore that.

"Yep, it's hard to be mean when it isn't your thing. But at least those guys will be gone for a while, you can chill for a bit." Erica said, before she scooped up Smokey and brought him over to Russell, "Here, hold Smokey for me for a bit."

Hopefully, a fuzzy ghost kitten could make up for Lucien's absence at the moment.

"Yes, let's have some manners." Rook replied, "It'll be useful later, especially if we want to get the ice guy to figure out that he sided with an asshole. I don't think showing him Lucien's picture, or remind him to mind his fucking snowballs, is going to cut it if he sees Ratchet got his brain turned to mush."

If Frosty actually believed in what he was doing, but didn't share Five's methods, the ideal solution would be to show him that they weren't a threat at all instead. Otherwise, there was a good chance they would see him sign up with a different group of hunters soon enough.

"It's funny that you're saying this with your sword right there." Erica pointed.

"It needs cleaning." Rook replied, "In any case, we should assume that Crosshair is still around. She might give up, but she might try to take at least a couple of us down before that. We'll have to have a look around the area to figure out from which way it's safer to approach."

"I could probably take some of us there through the shadows. We can figure out where she's hiding without being seen and how to get inside." Erica offered.

"I heard she was coming." Willow explained. That was all she was going to say on the matter with Ratchet around. Not that there was a chance he'd be paying attention while he was screaming like they were skinning him alive.

She held Ratchet in place with her hand while he kept trying to shake the spider off his leg. It was really unfair to the little shadowy creature. So she knelt down and gently scooped it up.

Lucien didn't seem too enthusiastic about her attempts at petting the spider though. "Willow, please."

"You shall be nice to the void." The spider was placed on Ratchet's head. "What a stylish hat. Now, where were we?"

"Oh, Smokey's just jealous of the fact I can make shadow cats." Erica explained, "Even if they could never take his place."

Perhaps both of them still needed some time to get used to her new powers. A few pats should be enough to make up.

"I wasn't sure if it would have worked, but I figured a big spider would bother most people." she added with a shrug, "But that was tough. Somebody get Russell a snack."

"That's the least. But stupid people require modern solutions." Rook leaned back a bit, before summoning her sword, "So, I guess we all more or less agree. How are we going to go about this?"

"No killing!"

"That goes without saying. But that means we've got to do something with these guys. We can’t hire them, or shove them all in a room so we can test our haunted house routine forever. We should consider what happens after we trample Five before jumping into this."

[zaundads]

Ultimate Zaundads Quote guides

All the important Zaundads Quotes

I was reading this post on iconic couple quotes and I realized that this is kinda hard for Zaundads considering they have like two scenes where they actually talk to each other. So it's hard not to do "well, just everything". Still, here are all the best ones, highlightes for my faves.

"I trusted you. And you betrayed me."

"I'll show you what you really are."

"I hated you, but you kept my respect."

"I hated you for what you'd done. But as time passed, so did my hate. "

"What I did to you… I've never forgiven myself."

"Greatest thing we can do in life is find the power to forgive."

"What's the point if we can't raise an ankle biter or two?"

"We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom. Not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground, united as one. The nation of Zaun. Do you even remember?"

"I had no choice." - "Perhaps. But now you do. Shimmer. We have the power. We can finally realize our dream,"

"Silco. Let her go. This is between you and me." - "You had your chance."

"You'd die for the cause, but you won't fight for one? "

"I knew you still had it in you."

"Ever wonder what it's like to drown? Story of opposites. There's peace in water. Like it's holdin' you, whisperin' in low tones to let it in. And every problem in the world will fade away. But then there's this thing… …in your head, and it's raging. Lighting every nerve with madness. To fight. To survive. And all the while, this question lingers before you: "Have you had enough?" It's funny. You could pass a lifetime without ever facing a choice like that. But it changes you forever. For that, I thank you… old friend."

"Oh, it all makes sense now, brother."

"A thousand times I've imagined this moment. Never like this. All we ever wanted."

"You hear that, Bozo 2? We made it. We're done. Oh, you're sadly mistaken. I'm Bozo 1."

"I've looked everywhere, but… it's clear you don't wanna be found. God, I'm shit at this. I'm sorry. When she died, I lost my head. I told myself what I did to you was for the greater good, that you deserved it. But the dirt was on both our hands. Anyway, you know where to find me. Blisters and bedrock. V."

"If he found this, everything might have been different."

Bonus "indirect quotes"

"Benzo, stay back. […] Wait!" (Vander not wanting Benzo to attack Silco)

"We had nothing. You know what bore us through those times? Loyalty. Brothers and sisters back-to-back against whatever the world threw at us. Now I'm forced to share the air with parasites like you, who leach off their legacies."

"Tonight a harebrained scheme these two bozos cooked up to turn a dank crack in the earth into a thriving, healthy community became a reality."

"So there's a chance for us yet." (Silco to Vander in 2x07)

Merchant: "This is vile." Vander: "You'll learn to love it." (Vander about Zaunite tobacco)

"There's worse things than enforcers out there." (Vander about ?? Silco? Other Zaunite criminals? )

"Fear haunts us all, child." (Silco about ?? The dreams he has about Vander drowning him?)

"Betrayal, that pain that feels like it'll eat you from the inside out,"

"You two are gonna figure this Zaun thing out. I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock, covered in blisters. You're not allowed to fail anymore."

"Nearly forgot. I ran into an old friend of yours. He had some stories. You weren't always the peacekeeper, were you? - Yeah, well, you can't escape the past. Right?"" (Marcus and Vander about Silco)

"You told me a million times. [...] Blah, blah, blah [...]" (Jinx complaining about just how often Silco talks about Vander)

"Silco thinks he made Jinx, with all his rants and his hard-won lessons. "Excise your doubts, Jinx." "Be what they fear, Jinx." Like everything was the same as when Vander left him."

Did I forget any? What is your ultimate Silco and Vander quote?

Bonus:

Full dialogue of selected scenes under the cut:

Silco and Vander in 1x03: S: It's a little crude, I'll admit. The base violence necessary for change. But we both know topside won't listen to anything else. V: Even with your monsters, you won't win a war against Piltover. S: I don't have to. I just need to scare them. They won't dare set foot in the underground again. V: You'll get people killed. For what? Pride? S: For respect. Opportunity. Everything they've denied us. V: You had my respect. The Lanes' respect, but that… that was never enough for you. S: We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom. Not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground, united as one. The nation of Zaun. Do you even remember? I trusted you. And you betrayed me. V: What I did to you… I've never forgiven myself. You were my brother. S: No, you still don't understand. Can you imagine what it's like? When your blood mixes with the filth and the river toxins eat through your nerves. Oh, I hated you for what you'd done. But as time passed, so did my hate. And I was left with an understanding. The only way to defeat a superior enemy is to stop at nothing. To become what they fear. I hated you, but you kept my respect. Until you made peace with them. Played lapdog after everything we suffered. V: I had no choice. S: Perhaps. But now you do. Shimmer. We have the power. We can finally realize our dream, brother. V: Look at what you've done. Benzo. These kids. In fighting topside, you'd sacrifice everything that we are. It's not the way. Can't you see that? kill me if you have to, but please spare the Lanes. S: You'd die for the cause, but you won't fight for one? V: I'm just… not that man anymore. S: I'll show you what you really are.

Jinx and Silco 1x05:

S: I almost drowned in these waters. J: You told me a million times. S:Vander wasn't the man you thought he was. J: Right, he was like a brother to you, and he turned his back and blah, blah, blah. Did I miss anything? S: I've got a new one for you. That day, I let a weak man die. And another was reborn. Betrayal, that pain that feels like it'll eat you from the inside out, can either break you or forge you into something greater. You need to let Powder die. So the fear of pain will no longer control you. You're strong now. Just like you were always meant to be. Jinx is perfect.

Silco vs Chembarons 1x07: Have you forgotten where we came from? The mines they had us in? Air so thick it clogged your throat. Stuck in your eyes. But I pulled you all up from the depths. Offered you a taste of topside. And fresh air. I gave you life. Purpose. But you've grown fat and complacent. Too much time in the sun. We came from a world where there was never enough to go around, Finn. That is why we fight. Do you remember?

Silco vs Finn 2x09: S: I'm busy. F: When you took Vander out of play, I thought, "Now here's a man who understands what it takes to run an enterprise." The attitude, the instinct, the eye. The whole package, you were. Always two steps ahead. But time's lapped you, old man. S: You're with him, are you? F: You screwed up, Silco. S: You're too young to remember what the undercity was before it became an "enterprise".We had nothing. You know what bore us through those times? Loyalty. Brothers and sisters back-to-back against whatever the world threw at us. Now I'm forced to share the air with parasites like you, who leach off their legacies. F: Today's the day you die, Silco. S: That's a risk I've known all my life. But I still believe in loyalty.

Silco at the Vander statue: S: A thousand times I've imagined this moment. Never like this. All we ever wanted. The boy didn't even haggle. And what do I lose but problems? Oh, it all makes sense now, brother. Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?

[just1cefor4ll]

— You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, might be OOC

part six || part seven || part eight

A/N. okay ngl this chapter is so shitty but i have serious writers block so i guess this will have to do :P

‘Your beauty is so vain

It drives me, yes, it drives me

absolutely insane.’

You stared at the ceiling, thinking about none other then Viktor. Who else would you be thinking about anyway? He’s been all over your mind for the past month so it’s no surprise he’s still lingering there even in this moment.

You were hanging out at Ekko’s dorm, asking for advice though he wasn’t of much help.

“Oh my fucking god Ekko you’re literally not helping at all.” You groan, putting a hand on your forehead. You sit up, sitting cross legged with Ekko barely paying attention to your paranoid self anymore. “How did you make the first move on Powder?” You ask desperately trying to get any useful advice out of him.

“Alright, listen," Ekko sighed, finally setting his phone down to give you his full attention. "First of all, you’re overthinking this way too much. Second—why are you even stressing? It’s Viktor."

You groaned, flopping back onto his bed dramatically. "That is exactly the problem, Ekko. It’s Viktor. He’s, like.. I don’t know.. him?And I don’t wanna screw this up."

Ekko rolled his eyes. "You’re acting like he’s some impossible riddle to solve."

"He kinda is!" You sat up again, running a hand through your hair. "He’s smart as hell, he overanalyzes everything, and he probably thinks I’m just being friendly whenever I try to flirt."

Ekko snorted. "You are just friendly. You’re terrible at flirting."

"Wow, thanks."

"Just saying," he shrugged. "If you actually wanna make a move, you gotta make it clear. No weird mixed signals. When I made the first move on Powder, I didn’t hesitate. I knew what I wanted, and I went for it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what did you do, Romeo?"

Ekko grinned, leaning back against the wall. "I told her straight-up that I liked her and then kissed her before she could overthink it."

Your eyes widened. "You what?"

"Yeah. No games, no confusion. Just straight to the point."

You stared at him like he had just grown a second head. "That’s insane. I can’t do that."

Ekko sighed dramatically. "Well then, I dunno what to tell you Y/N. If you wanna make a move, you either do it or you don’t. Simple as that."

You chewed on your lip, processing his words. "Okay. Maybe not that bold, but.. I get what you’re saying." “Good." Ekko picked his phone back up. "Now, if you’re done panicking, I’d like to get back to my very important business."

You peeked at his screen—he was watching cat videos.

With a sigh, you stood up. "Fine, fine. I’ll figure it out. But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you." "Yeah, yeah," he waved you off. "Just don’t overthink it. You got this."

You weren’t sure if you believed that yet, but still, you left his dorm with a little more determination than before.

You entered your dorm, opening your phone to text Viktor but it looks like he had thought a bit farther ahead then you had, because right there on your screen was a notification from none other then Viktor.

——————————————————————————

[vik.tor222] Are you free tonight?

[truly.y/n] oh? since when do u make plans?

[vik.tor222] Since I decided to make your night more interesting.

[truly.y/n] bold assumption that you being here is interesting

[vik.tor222] Admit it, you’d be devastated if I didn’t show up.

[truly.y/n] you’re delusional

[vik.tor222] Yet here you are, still replying instantly.

You frowned at your screen. He was getting cocky.

[truly.y/n] hm, what’s the occasion anyway? you bored or just wanna hang out?

[vik.tor222] or maybe i just want to see my favorite rockstar?

You huffed, but your stomach did a little flip.

[truly.y.n] whatever. maybe I don’t want to see you tonight

[vik.tor222] Lying doesn’t suit you, rockstar.

You bit your lip, ignoring the way your face warmed.

[truly.y/n] fine, pow is leaving around 8pm, i was just about to play my guitar so if you’re lucky you might get a free live performance >;D

[vik.tor222] Can’t wait.

——————————————————————————

You rolled your eyes, smiling like an idiot as you set your phone down.

When Viktor arrived, you were already playing your guitar, fingers idly plucking at the strings as you sat cross legged on your bed.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with that small, amused smirk of his. "You were serious about the live performance." "Always," you grinned, patting the space beside you. "Come in, take a seat. I promise not to charge you."

Viktor chuckled as he made his way over, sitting beside you on the bed. His cane rested against the nightstand as he settled in, tilting his head slightly as he listened to you play.

"You’re really good," he murmured after a moment.

You shot him a teasing look. "I have a band, Vik. Would be awkward if I sucked." Viktor huffed a laugh. "True. But still—you are impressive." Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. "..Thanks."

A comfortable silence followed as you continued to strum softly, just playing whatever came to mind. After a while, you set the guitar down and leaned back on your hands, glancing over at him

“So.. anything new in the lab?” You asked, keeping your voice light. Viktor hummed in thought. "Not really. Other then Jayce almost setting the lab on fire again." He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. You stiffle a laugh, gasping dramatically; “No way!” You say in mock surprise. “Yes.” Viktor shook his head. “I keep telling him, just because something looks stable does not mean it is stable.”

“Classic Jayce.”

“Unfortunately.”

"Why engineering and physics?" you ask suddenly, catching Viktor off guard.

"Hm?" he replies, raising an eyebrow.

You laugh awkwardly, fiddling with your guitar. "I mean, why those majors? Is there a cool backstory, or is it just something you're good at?"

Viktor thinks for a moment before answering. "I've always been fascinated by how things work—like putting together a puzzle. The more I learned, the more I wanted to create things that could change how people live."

You nod. "That makes sense.”

He tilts his head. "What about you? Art, right?"

"Yeah, for me, it's the opposite," you say, smiling. "Art is about creating things that don't necessarily make sense but still feel right."

Viktor considers this, then shrugs. "That sounds freeing." You laugh. "It is, but it’s also a challenge to make it come together. Just like your work, I guess." He nods slowly, a faint smile on his lips. "I get that."

You both fell into easy conversation after that, talking about random things—your band, his research, upcoming gigs, the ridiculous amount of people who had started messaging you online asking for new music.

Eventually, though, you both got tired of talking and decided to put on a movie.

Halfway through, you started to get really comfortable, shifting closer to Viktor. Without thinking too much about it, you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. Viktor didn’t react at first—just a small, sharp inhale before he relaxed under you. Encouraged, you moved a little closer.

Then, in a move that surprised you, Viktor gently pulled you towards him, adjusting you so that you were practically lying against his chest.

Your heart stopped.

You hesitated for a moment before settling against him completely, your cheek resting over his heartbeat. His arm stayed around you, fingers lightly tracing up and down your back.

"You good?" you murmured, peeking up at him.

Viktor exhaled, a small smile playing on his lips. "Hm? Yeah.. m’fine.”

Neither of you moved after that. The movie continued playing in the background, but it barely mattered. The warmth of Viktor’s body, the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest—it was all so.. peaceful.

At some point, your eyes grew heavy, and before you knew it, sleep was tugging you under.

Viktor didn’t say anything when you finally drifted off, but he did let his fingers brush lightly over your arm, holding you just a little closer.

It wasn’t a confession. Not yet.

But it was something. And for now, that was more than enough.

Viktor woke up slowly, warmth pressing into his side, a weight draped over him.

It took a moment for the fog of sleep to clear, for him to register the steady rise and fall of your breathing, your head still tucked against his shoulder, arm loosely curled around him.

His chest tightened.

Carefully, he turned his head, just enough to see your face—eyes shut, lips slightly parted, hair falling messily against his shirt. Peaceful. Unaware of the way you had completely undone him.

His fingers twitched at his side.

He should move. He should.

But for a few more moments, he let himself stay.

How had he let this happen?

How had you managed to slip so effortlessly into his life, into his mind, until the thought of not having you there seemed impossible?

He swallowed.

He needed to tell you.

The thought alone made his pulse quicken, but—God, he couldn’t keep pretending. Not when you were right there, curled against him, like you belonged there.

The door swung open.

Viktor tensed, head snapping toward the entrance just in time to see Powder step inside.

She stopped short.

Eyebrows shot up.

Then, a slow, shit-eating grin.

“Well, well, well.”

Viktor exhaled sharply, already bracing himself.

“This is new,” Powder mused, crossing her arms. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, lover boy.” Viktor frowned, carefully shifting Y/N’s arm off of him before sitting up. “It was not planned.” Powder’s grin only widened. “Sure it wasn’t.” He shot her a look before grabbing his cane and standing. Powder tilted her head. “So. You gonna tell her?” Viktor’s grip tightened slightly. “..I intend to.” Powder hummed, rocking back on her heels. “Good. ‘Cause I really don’t wanna watch you two keep dancing around each other.” Viktor shook his head, amused despite himself. “Yes, I am aware.”

Powder smirked, stepping aside as he made his way to the door. “Lover boy,” she called after him, just loud enough to make sure he heard it.

He didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting.

He made his way towards his dorm, his mind full— full of you. This wasn’t new. He had spent too much time thinking about you, about what he felt, about what it meant. But now, after tonight, it wasn’t just in his head. It was real.

His fingers brushed over his phone, hesitating.

It was absurd, really, how fast it had all happened. How easily you had slipped into his life, uninvited, without him even realizing what was happening.

The first time he had ever seen you was at The Last Drop. He can’t imagine how differently his life could’ve went if he hadn’t agreed to Jayce’s constant begging and pestering about him going out and leaving studying behind for just a day.

He didn’t like the idea of being there, not for a bit at least— but then you came up onto that stage and he forgot how to think.

You had been something else entirely. The warm lights caught the curve of your smile perfectly— the easy confidence in the way you moved, the way you just carried yourself was so alluring, he couldn’t resist succumbing to your charm.

He hadn’t been the only one captivated.

That night, they had all been introduced to you. He knew of your existence before then, but that night he got to know you better— the musician, the artist, the lightning storm in human form.

He couldn’t wait to hang out with you again— not sure if that would even happen, but then Vi burst into the room with a text from her sister, that they’d be going to a café that week and that his group was invited. And there you had told him—offhand, casual—how it was your dream venue. How you had always wanted to play there.

And that gave him an idea.

Why had he even done it in the first place? The call? Setting up the entire gig? He wasn’t sure, but something deep inside him told him to do it—and so he did. In his mind, you deserved it. And when he saw the excitement in your eyes? His heart had felt like fireworks bursting on the Fourth of July.

And then—

The cheek kiss.

So quick, so effortless, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was when he knew. That was when he realized he was screwed.

And now— Now, he had to do something about it.

The whole damn friend group had been pestering him for weeks. Jayce, Ekko, Isha, Powder—all of them, telling him to stop being an idiot, to tell you.

Viktor exhaled, gripping his phone.

It was late.

Too late for this.

But his hands moved before he could stop himself.

——————————————————————————

[vik.tor222] I like you Y/N

[vik.tor222] like a lot

[vik.tor222] god you’re literally all i can think about you make me insane

[vik.tor222] i love you, rockstar.

——————————————————————————

He set his phone down as soon as he typed the last message, his mind racing with all the possible outcomes. What if you rejected him? What if you laughed in his face, or worse, ignored him completely? What if—

His phone buzzed.

And his mind went blank.

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

taglist: @erica2024 @lolixsstuff @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @astarionapologist @th3stup1dcat @fiveperrcent @fadedpinkpen @noxturnalmoth

[moonselune]

Hello! If this request is weird feel free to disregard but could I request something, whatever format you think is best, where Tav has chronic pain/fatigue and they generally hide it pretty well, though they do still lag behind some days- and through some tadpole or magic weirdness someone gets temporarily body swapped with Tav (maybe a tougher member of the group like Lae'zel) and they realize how much harder Tav is working just for basic functioning and masking it. (I love your work, thank you<3)

OOooo this is so interesting!! and thank you so much, that's so sweet! I did this more as a drabble and I hope you like it!

Most days, you keep up.

You’ve learned how to pace yourself, how to push through the pain without letting it show. You lag behind on occasion, but you make up for it in other ways—strategy, quick thinking, keeping morale high when the others start to waver. You may not be as fast or as strong as Lae’zel or Minthara, but you pull your weight. You make sure of it.

That doesn’t stop them from noticing.

“Lae’zel, slow down,” Shadowheart murmurs as the party treks through uneven terrain, but Lae’zel merely scoffs.

“If they cannot keep up, they should train harder,” she replies, glancing back at you over her shoulder. “Strength is something we build, not something we beg for.”

Minthara hums her agreement. “Pain is temporary,” she says. “Weakness is a choice.”

You don’t argue. You could, but what would be the point? They do not understand. They can’t understand. The pain in your joints, the way your muscles ache even when you wake up in the morning, the exhaustion that clings to you even on your best days.

So you grit your teeth. You keep walking. And you pretend their words don’t hurt.

—

The magic mishap happens fast. One moment, you are rifling through a strange arcane tome, and the next, the world shifts and bends in on itself. The feeling is nauseating—like being unspooled and rewoven, like your very bones are rearranging themselves.

And then, just as suddenly, you are staring at yourself. Or rather—Lae’zel is. Because you are now her. There’s a moment of silence as the party stares. Astarion lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Well,” he says. “This should be interesting.”

“Unacceptable!” Lae’zel’s voice rings out, except—no. Your voice rings out, spoken by her, in your body.

She clenches her fists—your fists—and glares down at herself.

“This form is fragile,” she hisses. “We must undo this immediately.”

But magic like this is messy, and Gale is already grimacing as he flips through his notes.

“It might take some time,” he admits. Lae’zel grumbles under her breath.

“Then we train,” she decides. “I will strengthen this form while I am trapped in it.”

But she doesn’t make it five minutes.

The first thing that hits her is the fatigue. Even standing still, she feels the weight of it pressing down on her limbs, making her movements sluggish, her reactions slow. Then comes the ache—a deep, gnawing pain that digs into her joints, curling around her bones like an iron vice.

She tries to push through it. She always pushes through pain.

But no amount of discipline or mental fortitude can prepare her for the constant, grinding discomfort, the sensation of moving through molasses, the frustration of knowing she is strong but not feeling it.

And worse than anything—she remembers. She remembers snapping at you when you lagged behind. She remembers calling you weak.

But this is not weakness. It is not laziness or lack of will. It is a battle, fought every day, in every breath, in every step. She lasts an hour before she stumbles.

Not a dramatic fall—just a simple misstep, her knee nearly buckling beneath her. It is such a small thing. But she suddenly understands exactly how much you have been hiding.

—

By the time Gale figures out how to undo the spell, Lae’zel is seething. Not at you. Not anymore.

She is furious at herself. At her own ignorance.

When the magic finally reverses, and you are settled back into your own body, you turn to face her, unsure of what to expect. For once, Lae’zel is quiet. Her jaw is tense, her posture stiff. And then, slowly, she speaks.

“You are stronger than I gave you credit for.” Her voice is measured, her words precise. “And I was a fool to dismiss you.”

You blink, taken aback. “That almost sounds like an apology.”

She scowls. “Take it or leave it.”

You huff a quiet laugh. It isn’t much. It isn’t even enough. But it is something. And as you continue forward, Lae’zel walking just a little slower beside you, you think—maybe that’s all you need.

a little drabble for y'all, it was so nice to write it, work has been so hectic so this was a nice break. Hope you guys enjoy it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[mychlapci]

hey chat have we considered accidental forcefemming. this could honestly go for any of the rescue bots but I’m chasebrained rn so here we go. Charlie is looking for chase one day and is checking the bots little secret bunker when he accidentally stumbles on Chase in the wash rack (I’m assuming they have one somewhere down there, at least on their ship) and somehow only sees chase’s valve.

Charlie feels awful, forcing human gender norms onto his partner. he never even asked any of the bots if they were actually male (or at least the bot equivalent)!! he knows how Chase is, as much as the bot is a rule-follower, he (she!) is also a massive people pleaser. She probably just went along with the humans assumptions so she wouldn’t cause a fuss, poor thing. so, Charlie makes a plan: he’ll slowly get Chase used to humans using her pronouns (Chase gets so overwhelmed by change, he really needs to ease her in) and then he’ll tell everyone else!

…unfortunately, he quickly realizes he doesn’t actually use gendered pronouns that often when talking directly to Chase. because that’s how conversations work. so he plans again.

he often called Chase “partner”; so, when they’re on patrol and Chase points out a power line that looks unstable, Charlie says, “nice job, doll” (Charlie is def a guy who calls women doll and I love him for it). Chase’s engine spikes, but he doesn’t say anything. Charlie congratulates himself on his first step towards a happy partner. Chase wonders why his partner is calling him an inanimate object.

Chase does a little research later, and discovers the name is also considered a “pet name” (but it’s not a name used for human animal companions- earth is very strange indeed)…. usually associated with human females. Chase decides to brush it off as a slip of the tongue on Charlie’s part, probably caused by a long patrol.

But it keeps happening.

“Doll” appears a lot; “honey” a few times; “sweetheart”, twice, and both after Chase put himself in danger. Chase wants to pretend it’s not affecting him, but hearing his Chief’s voice sound so worried as he asks “you alright sweetheart?” definitely does something to his spark. and his modesty paneling.

Chase begins to covet his alone time with chief. Charlie is always softer when it’s just the two of them, always asking if he’s feeling alright, asking his opinion, complimenting his polish. Not that he wasn’t doing that before, but somehow, ever since that first pet name, it’s been….. different. Chase feels almost dainty with chief sometimes. He feels… sweeter. He likes when Chief pets his steering wheel when he’s talking about police codes, and when Chief pets his hood when he’s stuck in vehicle mode in front of civilians.

And as these things do, they escalate.

Chief is walking through the bunker when he spots Chase, rubbing his face with a cloth trying to get a spot off his faceplate. Charlie pauses, thinking about where his other kids are. He figures they’ll be gone long enough, and walks over to his partner.

“Here, let me get that hon,” he says, and he chuckles quietly at the little blue flush that appears. Chase obediently gets on his knees and leans down so Charlie can reach him, and as Chief gently rubs his car’s face down, he coos when he hears the little purr Chase’s engine is making.

“Aww, what a sweet girl”, he says, and Chase, a pile of goo, just gently nods along.

He’s still a little confused, but he also just shakes it off and lets himself relax under Charlie’s ministrations. If his Chief decides he’s a girl, then he guesses he’s just a girl :)))

[this is way less sexual than I intended but if we all imagine hard enough it will be. good night and god bless and also ignore all typos im painting my nails while typing this]

omg... chief burns calling chase "doll" is literally so hot actually. chase might feel a little offended at first, sure they’re pretending to be machines but the chief doesn’t have to compare him to a malleable inanimate toy. but after all his research and the tons of detective noir movies and books he watches and reads, he’ll quickly get the hang of human pet names. he gets it now, chief is being nice to him, he’s being affectionate. he thinks of chase as his girl, his doll, his sweetheart. so yeah, she’ll be the chief’s girl. his baby and honey.

[glasvera]

Rivals Bruce Banner with fem reader he’s a total dork in love with her and it’s just fluff of the two being lovey dovey 🥰

Oh, this was a treat to write!

Oxytocin and Dopamine

Bruce Banner x Fem!Reader

Description: Bruce works too hard, even if the world needs his expert mind, and you're always ready to help him relax when he needs it.

Warnings/Disclaimers: Nothing but lovey-dovey fluff!

A/N: I like to think that I am moderately smart, but then I have to go and write someone who's smarter than me, and I feel like a fumbling toddler. Still, I hope I captured that adorkable charm.

Word Count: 1.3k

“Bruce…?”

Your voice enters before you do as you step into the lab he’d been working in. Better to announce your presence than accidentally startle him if he’s working with something delicate. Or, worse yet, to cause him any undue stress that might unleash Hulk. Hulk shared in Bruce’s affections of you, of course, but you knew firsthand just how clumsy he could be.

Though, it would seem you don’t need to worry about either of those outcomes, as you are instead greeted by the sound of soft snoring. A tender smile draws upon your lips. He’s passed out on his keyboard with his cheek typing a long string of letters into a document that should have only been a few pages yet was now quickly approaching twenty. His glasses are smashed against the side of his face, and the curve that should go over the bridge of his nose is instead poking against his eyebrow.

Setting the coffee you’d brought him down gently onto a desk away from any electronics, you wheel a stool over to sit next to him. Your fingers brush soothingly through his dark brown hair as you try to ease him awake.

“Honey,” you coo, tilting your head and leaning towards him as you caress his cheek. “Sweetheart, you fell asleep again.” Your words are accompanied by an airy titter. His face twitches under your touch, nose scrunching and lip pulling back into an involuntary sneer. One last snort catches in his throat as his eyes slowly blink open.

“Mm… what…? Oh,” he murmurs sleepily, adopting a dopey smile when he looks at you. “Hey there, beautiful.”

You giggle softly as your fingertips continue delicately tracing the lines of his face. “You’ve been typing the letter ‘s’ into this document for several minutes now, you know.”

He sits upright with a start, shaking his head before fixing his glasses to sit properly on his face again. “Oh, this? Um… yeah! This is just my translation for our reptilian allies, see? Sssssssss…” He hisses playfully. You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder, amused by his antics.

“Ah, how could I have overlooked that! Oh, but you might want to edit this part,” you tease, pointing to a spot where he had typed a “d” instead of an “s”. “I think this might be a curse word in their tongue.”

“Good eye, my love. This is why you’re my favorite assistant,” he praises, chortling and placing a kiss to the top of your head before he gets to removing the “translation” his sleeping self had worked so hard on typing out.

You snuggle against him, careful to leave him enough room so as not to hinder his typing. “So, what’s been keeping you up so late? The bed is lonely without you,” you bemoan. As if to answer your question before he speaks, you notice multiple diagrams of machine components, all meticulously labeled with accompanying descriptions as to each part’s functions.

“Artificial sunlight,” he mutters before letting out a long, drawn out yawn. His cheek rests against your head. “If Dracula wants to create a pocket of eternal night, we need a way to combat the vampires in the meantime while the others figure out a way to reverse the process entirely. I’ve examined the effects of different wavelengths of light, approaching it like one might design a grow light for plants, but it still needs something else…”

“Would caffeine help?” you suggest before wrapping your arms securely around his waist. “I brought you some coffee.” You nod your head towards the cup that you’d gotten for him.

“You really are too good to me,” he responds fondly, turning away from the monitor to face you properly as he returns your embrace. “But, loathe as I am to admit it, I may simply need a break to clear my head.”

You perk up at that, resting your chin up on his shoulder to look up at him. “I may have a few ideas…” you muse with a cheeky grin, drawing a circle around one of his shirt buttons with the pad of your index finger.

He smirks as he looks down at you, brushing the back of his hand along your cheek. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he hums before cocking his head to the side.

“I think I am,” you purr, your smile only growing wider.

-----

Twenty minutes, four blankets, one set of string lights, and at least a dozen pillows later, a glorious fort has been constructed in the corner of the lab. Coffee had been set aside in favor of hot chocolate, and professional attire was forgotten and replaced by the comfiest pajamas the two of you had on hand here.

Your knees curl up towards your chest as you cradle your hot cocoa in your hands. Bruce situated himself behind you with your back leaning against him, his arms wrapped around your waist and his legs spread on either side of you. Your cheek and the side of your neck are being constantly littered with fluttering kisses, and you can feel his smile with every press of his lips. A contented hum vibrates in your chest.

“I thought this was supposed to be relaxing for you,” you chide playfully before meeting his lips in a chaste kiss.

“Pampering you with affection is relaxing for me,” he argues, squeezing your waist a bit tighter. “I think more clearly after a proper snuggle.” He smiles into the crook of your neck before adding, “Plus, the oxytocin released really is good for the mind. And, when I’ve suffered failure after failure with different prototypes, these bursts of dopamine help me get back to it in no time.”

“You had me at the first explanation,” you titter, taking a sip of your hot cocoa.

“Oh, don’t lie; you like it when I ramble on with scientific explanations,” he teases, and you can feel his laugh rumbling in his chest through your back.

You crane your neck, pretending to ponder it for a moment with your lips screwed to one side of your face. “Hmm… I suppose I do. I also just very much enjoy the sound of your voice.”

You set your mug down, turning sideways in his hold and draping one arm over his shoulder. His hold on your waist loosens, and he brings a hand up to cup your jaw, sweeping his thumb back and forth over the soft skin. The look he gives you is terribly tender, staring down with hooded eyes the color of rich chocolate and smiling ever so gently.

“I enjoy everything about you, you know,” he breathes softly, his gaze traveling over the contours of your face, committing it to memory for the umpteenth time since he’s known you. His thumb brushes over the plush of your bottom lip, and you lean into his touch.

“Didn’t realize it was a competition,” you tease, your breath whispering against the pad of his thumb.

He chuckles. “Never. Just a proclamation. One I will make as many times as you need to hear it.”

Your heart clenches in your chest, and you flash him a brilliant smile. He always knows how to make you fall in love with him all over again. Leaning down and nuzzling into his chest, you let out a contented sigh.

“So, Dr. Banner… what does kissing do, then?” you ask while your finger toys with the collar of his soft fleece pajama shirt.

He quirks a brow at your formal usage of his name. “Kissing…? It releases oxytocin and dopamine in addition to serotonin. Chemicals that make you feel good and crave more,” he explains.

“Good to hear,” you purr. It’s all the warning you give him before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into a passionate kiss.

After all, that prototype could stand to wait a few hours more.

[rei-ismyname]

Cyclops earns Logan's respect through violence

The X-Men have just tangled with Proteus (and Moira, kinda) for the first time. It didn't go well, with Kurt and Logan feeling it the most after going through the looking glass. Logan is shutting down but Scott has an idea - insulting the fuck out of him. Really going to town emasculating, embarrassing, and provoking him into a fight. Are they lovers? Worse.

Scott knows what buttons to push. Chuck would be proud.

He figures he needs to speak Logan's language - toxic masculinity and ultraviolence. Kurt is like wtf are you doing? so Scott starts on him but it's in service of comparing him to Logan, accusing him of faking trauma.

Cyclops throws a drink in Wolverine's face and basically calls him a bitch, challenging him on their long rivalry. Logan takes the bait and stands up to fight. It's what Scott wanted but now he has to fight an angry and emasculated Wolverine. He keeps pushing him verbally during their fight, with his thought bubbles taking a very different tone. A judo flip and Logan is on his back, but he's up quickly and swinging to kill, bub.

Scott's shit talking intensifies, even as he's thinking about how difficult and dangerous this is. After framing the situation as 'man-to-man roughhousing' (so homoerotic) he moves to draw the other X-Men into the fight. There's a lot of drill sergeant vibes going on here, antagonising the team by giving them something to unite against. Scott flings Logan at Kurt, who is really not loving this at all.

'What's the matter shorty?' hits different

Banshee is wigging out, thinking they're going to kill each other - so he asks Colossus to break it up before someone dies. Jean knows what's going on, however, and tells them to stay out of it. Cyke is running rings around Logan, even reflecting an optic blast off Colossus to hit him from behind.

Woo, violence!

Kurt even speculates that Scott might be possessed, lol, so he tries to teleport in for a strike. Cyke has clearly played Space Invaders though, and he has his number, blasting him out of the sky.

With the others temporarily down, Ororo has finally had enough of this shit and she summons a lightning bolt as a warning. Cyclops plays possum a little then rolls into an optic blast right at her feet.

With three X-Men after him and more likely to join the fray (or just Storm getting serious) Scott quits while he's ahead, calling for peace. Logan especially doesn't think much of that notion until Scott and Jean explain. This was Scott leading and making sure the team was okay, Logan most of all.

Logan even opens up a little, admitting he was spooked. He says the obvious, that he hasn't thought much of Scott but is happy to concede he was wrong. I think Scott appreciates that more than he admits, and this is not the last time he'll have to fight all the X-Men. All that danger room training paid off. I could write a dozen essays on this issue but for now I'll just say it's an important one for the X-Men as a team as well as the Scott/Logan relationship.

I've never been in a paramilitary group, though I have had people try the tough love approach to my trauma. I don't speak to them anymore, because it's a messed up way to act. It's pretty satisfying here, and might even be the right decision. It's hard to argue with the results, but FR the X-Men all need therapy. Logan needs super therapy, or you know, to fight his friends every few months. This ISN'T Logan Behavior, not yet. It's messed up, but he's still a reasonable person at this point trying to be better. Havok and Polaris just watch without comment, which is kinda funny too.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

OK, so this question takes place in the cursed warlords AU during the JTTW.

So you know how you said in one of your little tidbits that after the monk banished the two warlords after the encounter with LBD that reader just went off on the monk and pig out of nowhere which shocked everyone still present in the group since reader doesn’t normally do that? Well, what if reader did that but she went off on her two monkey husbands after they started arguing and fighting with each other for the Bajillionth time during the journey, and she finally has enough and just yelled at them, saying how if they don’t start making up with each other by the time this journey is over then she’s not going to return to the mountain with them and is officially going to start referring to them as her ex-husband‘s which I’m sure would motivate them to actually start working on repairing their relationship again I’m sure at the time it would just start out with them just being grumpy with each other, but just ignoring each other or something like that, but later on, they would probably start having a normal conversation with each other and slowly repairing their fractured relationship and eventually fall in love with each other again like they did so long ago before they met reader

Oh I LOVE THIS IDEA! It’s so tasty!

Unfortunately not the exact direction that I’m going with for a few reasons. Just my idea of how it was going to go down mostly. Actually I might be able to make this one work…

Basically during a good portion of the journey the duo DON’T know who Reader is. Specifically they don’t know that the masked woman traveling with them is their wife!

During the Jttw Arcs Reader wears a glamoured mask to stop anyone from seeing her face. Wukong isn’t even able to see through it… but not because of the glamour. Her mask covers her entire face so when he uses gold vision all he sees is the outline of her mask and her true figure. He doesn’t see her face since it’s blocked by the mask.

The duo think she acts like their wife and they get upset about that several times because she reminds them so much of their wife. At this point they don't realize that she is their wife and getting mad because she makes them feel so so nice while at the same time so sad. at times they swear that she sounds like their deceased wife but no that's impossible. of course we know it's not impossible but they think it's impossible.

The mask does eventually break and it's possible for me to use this idea when it does, because more than likely they're still going to be fighting. the duo are hissed off at each other they are fighting and they think something happened between them and don't know what actually happened. gotta love the misunderstandings, I try to stay away from misunderstandings most of the time however I really like this one and they will get over it…. Eventually.

But for your information I may or may not be swiping this idea, hope you don't mind. it would have to be after they realize that reader is reader. Hehe ~

[flickeringquip]

(1) You're starting to suspect Damsel is trying to tell you. . . something.

Pt. 1 — Damsel belongs to @rosurie

It had started out fairly innocuous. 

Stray touches that lingered just a little too long. The way she leaned into you at the slightest excuse. The way she toyed with her hair — and yours, on occasion. 

The emphasis she put on your name, or how she calls you babe, or on one particular memorable occasion—

"Aw, thanks babe, you're such a good girl."

Your cheeks warm just thinking about it. You aren't sure you're going to recover from that one any time soon. 

(1) But any time you question her, ask if her if there's anything she needs, she plays dumb. Giggles like you've said something absolutely ridiculous. 

And, well. . . 

You're stoic, not stupid. You've spent your own fair share of time swindling people out of their money at Briar's, enough to recognize when you're being baited. 

Damsel might paint a prettier picture doing it, but you're hardly incapable — and you think you're starting to know her well enough to know what might work. 

(1) And so the games begin.

You see her in the library straining for a book, just barely out of reach, and instead of grabbing it for her — you lift her the rest of the way up, smoothing your hands down her ribs and along her hips when you set her down. 

You scare off a creep she's rather genuinely wanting to get away from — and didn't that take you both a hot minute to figure out how to communicate — by sidling in close beside her, hitching an arm around her waist and tugging her in flush against your side, your bat resting against your opposite shoulder as you tell them to fuck off. 

You find things to whisper to her whenever you share a class together, inane observations or questions that you already know the answer to, lips close enough to brush against her ear before you pull back, expression as neutral as it always is. 

(1) You enjoy the faint surprise you see the first few times; had she expected you not to retaliate? To roll over and take her teasing until you snapped, or perhaps begged?

. . .With how readily you cater to her whims when helping her with things, you suppose maybe that was a fair assumption — but putting up with Damsel being a relentless tease and protecting her from creeps are two very different things, at least in your mind.

If anything, you think with a rare flicker of sly amusement, maybe this could be a life lesson? 

(1) Of course, it doesn't take long at all for Damsel to realize the game you're playing.

She grows bolder in her advances — lingering touches grow longer yet, fingers tracing patterns just below the hem of your skirt in classes, the faint catch of nails when you least expect it.

And you respond in kind — becoming more physically affectionate when you're pretending to be her girlfriend to unsettle unwanted admirers, hand in her back pocket with a possessive squeeze, arm slung over her shoulder as you press a kiss to her temple. 

You circle each other in a pseudo game of tag, hoping to catch the other unawares to score another point in your respective favours as the tension winds tighter between the two of you.

(1) It’s only a matter of time before that thread snaps.

Of all the times you’d have expected it to happen, you wouldn’t have expected it to be during a bout of actual danger. An seduction gone awry leads to a failed intimidation attempt — and now the both of you were hiding, taking refuge in one of Landry’s storerooms while a small handful of unsavories roamed the nearby streets looking for both of you. 

You lounge against a barrel, content to catch your breath and let your adrenaline wind down as you thunk your head softly back against it— 

“I had everything entirely under control; you just made everything worse by meddling, like usual.”

—Or not.

(1) It’s a testament to your own mood, that you actively weigh the pros and cons of ignoring your companion’s complaining for a long beat.

“She was about to drug you, Damsel,” You don’t bother to open your eyes, fatigue turning your tone sharp as shattered glass, “Didn’t think that’d fit into whatever 'plan' you thought you had all figured out.”

You were usually more considerate of Damsel’s. . . Mood, when something like this happened — and it happened so much less often these days, thank god — but you weren’t immune to the occasional bout of bitchiness.

You’d spent the week teasing and being teased — sue you if you had little empathy for Damsel’s whining, right then and there.

(1) Her silence is more concerning than if she’d snapped back, and you open your eyes in time for Damsel to snake a hand into the curls at your nape and fist tight. 

“For someone whose usually such a good girl,” Condescension drips from her voice, lips smiling despite the irritation gleaming in her eyes, “You can be a mouthy little bitch sometimes, you know that?” 

She tugs against your roots until you hiss, thighs sliding over your own as she settles in your lap. Her free hand brushes against your jaw with deceptive gentleness, so at odd with the cruel twist of her fingers that it's a little hard to concentrate on both at the same time.

“Maybe after you learn your fucking place, we can talk about how you can make up tonight’s fuck up to me.”

(1) And while you'd normally acquiesce to her anger to keep the peace, you find yourself coming up dry on submissiveness in this particular moment.

"We could do that, yeah," Your agreement is as much a trap as her sweet touch along your cheek, just waiting for her grip of your hair to loosen a little, "—But honestly? I don't fucking feel like it." 

And then you strike.

It's a little mean to use what small advantage your size gives you against her, but you can't say you feel particularly charitable as you shove Damsel backwards, pinning her wrists to the ground as you loom over her.

You have to admit that some part of you relishes the startled look on her face as she blinks up at you.

"I don't think I'm the only one who's gotta learn her place," Your thumbs stroke the pulse point of each of her wrists before you release her, confident in your ability to beat the other woman in a wrestle of all things, leaning back on your haunches as you smooth your hands over her hips, "And between the two of us, I'd wager you'd even enjoy it more, wouldn't you?"

(1) You let your gaze roam, catching on the way her shirt's ridden up and skirt gone askew; it's nice to admire at your own pace, after all her teasing. 

You also happen to find her pout kind of adorable, even with the baleful glare she levels up at you. 

(Honestly, you'll probably let her get her revenge another time. She enjoys the power, and you usually don't mind giving it to her — but there are always exceptions.)

"And you're going to be the one to give me that lesson, is that it?"

It's amazing, how she could sound so derisive yet taunting, challenging you to either prove her right or submit entirely — and ensuring she would get her way, regardless of which you chose. 

(1) But if you're going to be difficult anyway, you should at least have the decency to go all the way — wasn't that how she preferred it?

"I've never been a very good teacher," You lean forward again, letting your hands rise up to slip just beneath the edge of her top, curves soft and warm under your hands, "And you know I'd never take advantage of you." 

The way that makes her scowl at you makes you laugh despite yourself, an act that only increases her ire at you as her thighs squeeze in against your hips, surely tempted to try and roll you back under her for your audacity. 

This is probably why you indulged her as often as you did; you'd always had a weakness for cute things.  

"So to make sure I know exactly what you want, you'll just have to tell me exactly what you want—"

You flash her a grin that is just a little too sharp to be the look of someone planning to cede control.

(1) "And if you ask me nicely enough, maybe you'll even get your way."