#GIRLIE POP; AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU???

[kxsagi]

Hihihi! I just stumbled upon your blog after taking a break from Tumblr, and I adore your writing!💕

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought I'd send one! I've never done this before, lmao, so sorry if I mess something up!

I was wondering if you could write something about arguing with the BL boys and then suddenly flashing them in the middle of it, asking them if they're still mad now?

I saw that you were fine with suggestive stuff in your rules, but feel free to ignore this if it's too much! I won't ask for specific characters other than maybe Chigiri? Thank you in advance for reading this! I hope you have an amazing day!💕

“𝐧𝐨, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰”

a/n: thank you girlie, you're so sweet, have an amazing day as well! 😚

title is a meddle about reference chase atlantic girls ily

suggestive content inside! 

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, ness alexis, niko ikki, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae

itoshi rin

you’re squaring up with him in the kitchen, halfway into a dramatic rant about how he never wipes down the counter after making his protein shakes. 

"do you know what cleaning is, rin? do you even see crumbs or is your brain like–" 

you cut yourself off, suddenly gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up with the speed of a magician doing a card trick. 

just. flash. like it’s the most casual part of your sentence. 

rin freezes. his jaw clenches, his whole body goes taut like he just got sniped from a rooftop. 

he doesn’t speak. doesn’t blink. 

his eye twitches like his brain is trying to keep functioning but a giant red ERROR screen just popped up in his mind. 

“… did you just… what is wrong with you,” he hisses, voice low and stunned. 

“you still mad?” 

he looks at you like you summoned the devil. “… you are so annoying. get over here.” 

he says it like a threat, but he's already reaching for you with dangerous intent. 

argument forgotten. you’ve created a new problem. 

isagi yoichi

you two are in the living room, arms crossed, facing off like two lawyers in a petty court show. 

"you NEVER close the cereal box. it gets stale, yoichi. stale. it’s like chewing cardboard." 

he’s rolling his eyes, "it’s not that deep–" 

you sigh like you’re done. then, without warning, you lift your shirt and flash him like you’re unveiling a secret treasure. 

it takes him exactly 1.5 seconds to process what just happened. 

he literally chokes on his own spit. 

“WAIT?! wait, wait, wait–” 

his voice jumps three octaves. his hands flail like he’s trying to rewind reality. 

“did you just–?! are you crazy?! i was–i mean, we were fighting!” 

you just smile innocently. “you still mad, though?” 

he’s red from the neck up, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“i-i need a timeout. a breather. some water. i–” 

spends the next 10 minutes pacing in the kitchen muttering, “i’m dating a menace” with a lovesick grin, replaying the image in his head like a perv. 

nagi seishiro

he’s lying on the couch, playing games, while you rant about how he left his laundry in the washer again. 

“it’s gonna get moldy, sei! do you even care?! i’m not your maid!” 

he groans. “too loud. i can’t hear my game.” 

and that’s it. you snap. 

you walk over and lift your hoodie in one swift move, flashing him right as he scores a kill. 

he literally drops the controller. 

“woah.” eyes locked. mouth slightly open. 

he just blinks and says, “that’s not fair. now i forgot what i was mad about.” 

“you weren’t mad.” 

“exactly. we’re even now.” 

immediately lies down with his head in your lap, face smushed against your thighs like he’s done anything productive all day. 

mutters into your skin, “flash me again? i need it for my health.” 

chigiri hyoma

you’re in his room, arms crossed, glaring at him for bailing on a hangout to go to the gym again. 

“you didn’t even text. i sat there alone for 40 minutes–” 

he tries to cut in. “pretty, i told you i had–” 

you ignore him. you step closer, grab the edge of your shirt with both hands, and– 

flash. 

his jaw drops. his soul leaves his body. 

“what the hell?!” 

his face explodes in red, like he got hit by a tomato. 

“what was that? was that a power move?!” 

“you still mad at me?” 

he swallows. hard. “… i was gonna defend myself but now i wanna marry you so i win either way.” 

immediately flops onto the bed and yells into a pillow. 

refuses to look you in the eye for 10 minutes. 

whispers later, “i love you, but i’m never winning another argument again, am i?” 

mikage reo

he’s mid-speech about how you should “just let him spoil you,” and you’re mid-speech about how “you don’t need a $500 pair of slippers.” 

the room is tense. luxurious. slightly dramatic. 

you interrupt yourself mid-sentence by slipping off your oversized sweater with flair, flashing him like you’re presenting a damn exhibit. 

reo’s reaction is instant. 

his mouth slowly curves into the cockiest, hungriest smile you’ve ever seen. 

his voice drops two octaves. 

“oh? that’s how we’re playing now?” 

“you still mad?” 

“i wasn’t mad, but now i’m incredibly distracted.” 

walks toward you like a man possessed. 

says dumb flirty things like, “wanna be my sugarbaby and my therapist?” 

spoiler: you never finish the argument. 

he wires money to your account and takes off his own shirt just to match. 

kaiser michael

he’s all smug and loud, spinning around in a designer chair like he owns the universe. 

you’re arguing about his ego. 

“you can’t call yourself ‘a gift from god’ in front of my parents.” 

he smirks. “they agreed with me.” 

you stare him down. then without breaking eye contact, you pull your shirt up and flash him with zero hesitation. 

he blinks once. twice. then he smirks wider. 

“… oh, liebe. that was dangerous.” 

leans back in his chair, tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to get feral too fast. 

“are you still mad?” 

“no. but you’ve signed yourself up for so much trouble.” 

five seconds later: you’re on his lap. 

he calls you a “cheater” while whispering unholy things in german. 

you never win the argument, but now neither does he. 

karasu tabito

he’s being an idiot. again. 

said something sarcastic. you called him out. now it’s five minutes of dumb back-and-forth in the hallway. 

you sigh. “you know what?” 

you reach down, pull up your shirt, and flash him like you’re changing the subject on a powerpoint slide. 

he gasps. no, squeaks. 

stumbles backward into the wall like you just slapped him with a holy vision. 

“MA’AM?!” 

staring at you like you just performed a magic trick. 

“you still mad?” 

he shakes his head, stunned. “not mad. but i might need a moment to process this. maybe therapy.” 

starts cracking jokes to cope. “was that a jumpscare or a proposal? because either way, i’m in love.” 

never stops talking about it. 

refers to it later as “the day he saw god.” 

ness alexis

you were in the middle of a heated argument (probably about kaiser). 

“why do you let him treat you like that? he’s not your boyfriend, alexis–” 

“he’s not treating me badly! you just don’t understand him!” 

and he’s got his hand on his chest, eyes glossy, one foot already stomping into a diva spiral. 

you inhale slowly. then– 

flash. shirt up. deadpan face. 

he stops. dead silent. his hands freeze mid-gesture, trembling ever so slightly. eyes wide, lips parted like he just got slapped with a romance novel. 

“... you’re weaponizing your chest.” 

“you still mad?” 

he blinks. gasps. 

covers his face with both hands, voice cracking, “y-you can’t just DO THAT! i’m vulnerable!” 

starts crying-laughing like a victorian wife who saw her husband naked for the first time. 

he’s pacing. dramatically. 

"i feel faint. lightheaded. i need to sit. or lie down. preferably on top of you. for stability." 

somehow the fight ends with him in your lap. 

whispers, "don’t tell kaiser. he’ll start using it against me." 

niko ikki

you’re arguing about him spending 6 straight hours on his game, ignoring your texts. 

“do you even remember you have a girlfriend, or is league your real soulmate?!” 

he frowns, flustered. “i was in ranked! you always say you want me to do what i love–” 

flash. 

you just hit him with a quick shirt lift and stare him down. 

his pupils dilate like he just activated his sharingan. his blue lens glasses slip down his nose. his mouth opens. closes. 

he’s buffering like a video on 2G data. 

“what the hell was that for?!” 

“you still mad at me?” 

he’s trying so hard not to look again. 

“… i’m not mad, but i’m deeply concerned for my sanity right now.” 

you smirk, turning away like the boss you are. 

behind you, he silently clenches his fist and mutters, “i love her so much it’s ruining my life.” 

texts you later from the next room: “you made me knock over my water.” 

shidou ryusei

you’re in the middle of a heated argument, likely because shidou can’t take a hint. 

“i’ve told you a thousand times to stop leaving your clothes everywhere!” 

“i literally live here. where else am i supposed to put them?” 

“on your damn body, for starters!” 

he’s grinning like the chaotic gremlin he is, clearly trying to get under your skin. 

you stare at him for a moment, silently deciding: this ends now. 

flash. 

you yank your shirt up, but keep your eyes locked on him. no warning. no hesitation. 

his face goes from smirk to confusion to full-on shock in a matter of seconds. 

his eyes widen, and he just... stops. his body visibly jerks back like he’s been hit by a truck. 

“… what the hell?” 

he snaps his head to the side like he’s trying to reset his brain, then dramatically blinks about 50 times. 

“you still mad?” 

his usual cocky, devil-may-care expression falls into full flustered chaos. 

“… no. not anymore. but you just became my new favorite person. you wanna keep doing that, or should we keep fighting?” 

he drops the argument completely and starts lowkey following you around for the rest of the day. 

mutters to himself like a love-struck fool: “this is it. she’s my queen.” 

proceeds to try to make you more mad for the rest of the week just to get another flash. it’s working. 

itoshi sae

oh, it’s on now. sae is being sae. classic emotionally distant asshole. 

you’ve been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, but he keeps brushing you off. 

“stop acting like you’re some kind of unreachable god,” you snap. 

“i’m not the problem here, you are,” he counters with that trademark smugness. 

and just when you think you’re about to lose your mind, you don’t even flinch, you just flash him. 

your shirt lifts slowly, not in a teasing way, just purely to make a point. 

his whole world crashes for a split second. sae freezes mid-sentence. he blinks. his eyes widen slightly. 

you watch the exact moment his composure starts cracking, the cool facade slipping just enough to reveal– 

“did you just–?” 

“you still mad?” 

his breath catches in his throat, voice suddenly a little hoarse. “… i’m not mad, but i might be a little… distracted now.” 

he clears his throat, trying to act like he’s in control, but it’s a losing battle. 

“gosh, you’re insufferable,” he mutters, but there’s this shift in his tone, the way his hand instinctively reaches out toward you like he's trying to anchor himself. 

you can tell he's so turned on, but he's also mad about it. 

he stares at you like you’ve just opened the gates of heaven, and he's not sure if he wants to kiss you or run from you. 

you’ve won. and he knows it. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[the-official-account]

.

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach. 

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always. 

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.  

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger. 

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job. 

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand. 

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all. 

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another. 

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly. 

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough. 

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know. 

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read. 

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that. 

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you. 

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you. 

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking. 

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there. 

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch. 

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose. 

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw. 

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy. 

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine. 

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince. 

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him. 

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage. 

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing. 

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue. 

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin. 

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.” 

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did. 

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you. 

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt. 

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago. 

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm. 

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that. 

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide. 

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance. 

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression. 

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless. 

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice. 

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption. 

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye. 

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong. 

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger. 

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all. 

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there. 

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat. 

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist. 

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating. 

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned. 

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived. 

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it. 

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.” 

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome. 

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you. 

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut. 

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced. 

Footsteps. Again. 

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck. 

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was. 

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard.  Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers. 

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you. 

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing. 

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head. 

Gods, you had never known anything like it. 

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist. 

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery. 

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him. 

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in? 

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.  

Like things were going exactly how he had planned. 

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much. 

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear. 

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn. 

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along? 

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s? 

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.  

He wanted you to see. 

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play. 

Sleep did not come easy that night. 

 

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place. 

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day. 

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman. 

There was none. Not a single strand of hair. 

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him. 

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava. 

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing. 

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat. 

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw. 

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time. 

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck. 

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach. 

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.” 

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs. 

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips. 

Lavender, leather and him. 

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view. 

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable.  “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh. 

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him. 

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter. 

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.” 

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?” 

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap. 

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure. 

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter. 

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.” 

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.   

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad. 

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor. 

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline. 

“You would not dare,” he all but growled. 

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?” 

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile. 

[whorekneecentral]

A New Tradition

George Russell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cheesy christmas traditions, first christmas as a married couple, matching pjs, handsy george, penetrative sex (p in v), oral (m!receiving), cream pie.

Word Count: 1,148

Author's Note: this is a short one and it's late lol, my apologize to the george girlies

merry smutmas series

--

You and George spend your first Christmas together and you mash together the traditions from both of your families. 

Your first Christmas as a married couple was a special one.

When the two of you were dating, you bounced from place to place. Your family or his depending on the year and the holiday. Now that you were married, George suggested that the two of you spend the holidays at home, just you and him.

You agreed with his suggestion, the two of you calling your families and letting them know that from now until new years, you'd be unavailable as you'd be spending time together.

Most of the racing season, you don't get to see George. You're stuck at work and there are very few weekends that you're able to hop on a plane and go see him. When he's home from racing, he's exhausted so you don't get to go many places or do much.

It wasn't the ideal way to spend your first year as a married couple but that's life I suppose.

The holidays were a much needed break from reality; you and your husband cuddled up with nothing to do and nnwhere to be.

As a married couple does, you had old traditions and new ones.

George suggested stockings be your new tradition, seeing that neither you nor him had one in years. You got customs ones made, all your favourite places and things on there, your names stitched into the top and hung on your fireplace.

As for old traditions, your family always ordered Christmas breakfast opposed to making it. So you ordered from your favourite spot, a few minutes from the flat in London.

After breakfast, you two opened your gifts, FaceTiming your families to wish them a Merry Christmas.

The rest of the afternoon was spent lazing, you two went for a walk around the block, getting some fresh air before George started on Christmas dinner - his family tradition. He made sure to get everything done for 7pm on the dot, of course his mum on FaceTime so the two of them could cook together. That was mostly because George had no idea what he was doing. You popped in and out to help when you could but George shooed you away, assuring you he knew what he was doing.

For a first attempt, things came together quite well. He did burn the potatoes but if you look past that, it was just as good as his mum's.

A new tradition, a Christmas movie marathon topped with matching pjs.

Your lives were so hectic, you barely saw each other, let alone had time to watch a movie together without the other falling asleep.

The two of you had debated quite a bit before you settled on a pair. You wanted something fun like the Grinch and George wanted the classic flannel.

As any married couple would do, you compromised; flannel pants for George, flannel shorts for you and you both had these cheesy custom shirts that Lewis had made for you two as a joke - George's race car with the Roscoe sitting in it.

The two of you were sprawled on the couch, the tv playing quietly in the background. You tried to focus on the movie but all you could feel was George's fingers on your legs. Your husband traced patterns into your skin, his fingers wandering higher with each passing second.

"George," you mumble, his hand wiggling away from your grip as it continues its hike up your legs.

"What?" He looks over at you.

"Are you even watching the movie?"

"I've seen it a million times babe."

You roll your eyes, "yeah? So what's happening?"

George looks up at the screen, trying to make up something but he shrugs. "I don't know." He admits, making you laugh.

The man pulls you to sit up, his hands on your hips as he helps you up and over onto his lap. "How am I meant to watch the movie if I'm facing you?" You asked him, arms over his shoulder.

"I'm much better than the movie," he says, a smile on his face.

You roll your eyes yet again, playfully of course. George pulls you flush against him, his hands under your shirt. "This isn't very family friendly, George."

He pulls the shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere behind you. "Good thing there's no family here."

You lean into your husband, kissing him softly before moving to his cheek and down his jaw.

The kisses trail down his neck to his collarbone before you scoot back on his lap and begin kissing down his chest, his shirt joining yours on the floor. You follow the pattern of his freckles all the way down to his hips.

Sliding off his lap, you settle onto your knees in front of George. Your husband smiles, his knuckles rubbing along your jaw.

“You’re so pretty,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you.

Your hands slide between the two of you, undoing the knot on his pants, George lifts his hips and helps you slide them off. His eyes fixed on you as your lips wrap around his cock, his chest dropping and raising with each breath.

He can’t help but watch the way your head bobs up and down. His hand pulls your hair away from your face, letting you set the pace.

His head falls back against the couch, breathing out a string of explicits as you hollow your cheeks. “C’mere, sweetheart.” George whispers, pulls you off him slowly, savouring the feeling of your tongue sliding up the underside of his cock.

You're back on his lap now, George's hands reach under you to pull your shorts to the side. You're kissing him again, he was about to pull your panties to the side only to realize you don’t have any on. He smiles against your lips.

George lets you sink down onto his cock. Both of you letting out a satisfied sigh, your nails dig into his pale skin. The red marks on his shoulders match the nail polish on your fingers.

It’s hot, heated, and heavy.

He bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of his neck.

Your hand tangles in his hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss him. You kiss all over his face, his cheeks red from the blush forming on his cheeks.

He loves when you love on him like that.  

“You’re so good to me,” you mumble against his cheek, rocking your hips back and forth. “Mmm there,” you breathe, chest pressed to his. Charles’s lips find your shoulder, he bites down softly when he cums, feeling you clench around him.

You're lying against your husband, his giant hand on your back. "I think your movie is over," he whispers in your ear.

You giggle, shaking your head. "That's okay.

---

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[w2soneshots]

Engaged -W2S

words: 0.7k+

warnings: none.

summary: while on holiday in Italy Harry asks you a very important question.

Liked by mollymae and 1,090,637 others

y/username: Its only the first day but I never wanna leave🏝️

-comments-

taliamar: STUNNING🩷🩷

faithlouisak: woah😍

y/nfanpage21: I loveeee the outfit!!

-> y/username: thank you🫶

user468031478: wrotoshaw is a lucky man

Harry surprised me with a trip to Italy 2 weeks ago. When we arrived yesterday we headed straight to the hotel to drop off all of our bags and get changed then spent the rest of the day at the beach. Today I woke up with Harry by my side scrolling through his phone. As soon as he realised that I was awake he popped his phone on the bedside table and rolled onto his side. I flashed him a smile "morning." I said. He smiled and leaned in to peck my lips "good morning, sleep good?" I nodded.

We got up, then sat down to have some fresh fruit and pastries for breakfast. "I've got lunch booked for two o'clock." Harry said as we ate. I looked up from my food "ooo, where?" I asked. "You'll have to wait and see." he said with a smirk. I shook my head jokingly and continued to eat my food. We finished our breakfast then hung around the villa until twelve ish when I decided to get ready.

y/username

Liked by faithlouisak and 1,809,681 others

y/username: be ready for the holiday spam🌥️

-comments-

wrotoshaw: 🔥❤️

freyanightingale: beautiful��

taliamar: sexy girl

user68024210: this holiday would be the perfect opportunity for bog to propose😏

When we arrived at the restaurant we took our seats outside on the patio and ordered. We ate our food then decided to take a walk on the beach. We were slowly waking hand in hand admiring the beautiful scenery, when Harry let go of my hand. I looked back in his direction to see him down on one knee, with a ring box in his hand. My breath caught in my throat. "omg." I said quietly and placed a hand over my mouth. "y/n, You're kind, you're funny, you're beautiful. I love spending time with you, and I can't imagine my life without you. I promise to always make you laugh, to always be there for you when you need me, and to never take you for granted," He said while tears streamed down my face "will you marry me?" I nodded quickly "yes, yes, yes, yes!" I said and he quickly stood, placed the ring on my finger and pulled me into a strong hug.

y/username and wrotoshaw

Liked by calfreezy and 6,016,932 others

y/username: we're engaged!💍

-comments-

ksi: congratulations guys, so sick!!!!

tobjizzle: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

taliamar: ahhhhh I'm so happy for you🥹

behzingagram: HE'S DONE IT!

freyanightingale: the ring!!😍😍

faithlouisak: 🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

miniminter: wooooooooo!

y/nfanpage21: YESSSSSSSS FINALLY🩷

user68024210: I called it🙋‍♂️

I was in a state of shock for the entire rest of the day. After Harry asked me to marry him (which sounds crazy be able to say) we walked back to the villa and took a shower together ready for the dinner he had booked. I got dressed into a long, black, lace dress. I did my makeup and put my hair up (which I've been doing the whole trip since it's so hot) then slipped on some little black heels. Once I was finished I slowly walked downstairs, Harry was stood by the door waiting for me. "Wow" he said once I was near him. I smiled and jokingly did a pose.

y/username

Liked by tobjizzle and 1,709,284 others

y/username: 🖤🥂

-comments-

faithlouisak: show us that ring girly😉

taliamar: my wifey💍

-> y/username: you know it😘

user925711030: I wish I was as pretty as her

We left soon after and arrived at the restaurant. We sat down and ordered our drinks. "I still can't believe we're engaged." I said playing with the ring on my left hand. "Im surprised you didn't catch on, I was trying my best not to act weird." he said. I giggled then took a breath "did you tell anyone?" I asked. "Ethan and Faith were the only ones I told. I wanted to make sure I had the right ring so I asked Faith and for Ethan I just needed someone to talk to about it since I was so nervous." he said. "Aw, well at least you knew I wouldn't say no." He took a deep breath "I did consider what I would do if you did." I just laughed.

After dinner we walked back to the villa and I immediately took my heels off and slipped out of my dress...

[that-was-a-bit-stupid-of-you]

ttpd review: thoughts (and prayers)

cuz wtf was that. (also providing my two cents that no one gives a shit about)

Is the promotion in the room with us?

Not going to lie, this part pissed me off. As a post evermore release swiftie, the first album release I got was midnights. And while the promotion for midnights wasn't astoundingly genius, the track list release (midnights mayhem with me) was smart. Everyday, there would be chaos all over social media of taylor taking out a number and releasing the track name. The excitement over YOYOK was to die for. But after reaching peak fame, girlie just decided shit wasn't necessary anymore. Absolutely no promotion for ttpd, except a few lyrics that provided no context (or excitement) whatsoever. That, and the very non subtle "hinting" of some big reveal of what went down between her and joe, by making some playlists, that not only ruined the perspective of many of her fans and the relationship they had with her previous songs, but ALSO. THE ALBUM HAD BARELY ANYTHING ABOUT JOE. (Not that i personally care about what happened, but it was so unnecessary to center the ONLY promotion done around someone who was barely a part of the album). Swifties went on the internet to harass joe alwyn (and his female coworkers) who might as well be called a special mention on a matty healy album. Why even do all that then? We will never know.

Confusion?

taylor released 31 songs, and while a double album theory coming true would be a dream come true for any swiftie, it just... wasn't. Out of 31 songs, barely 10 stood out. Some of it just didn't make sense, in any way. "Why is this on the album?" "This sounds like a midnights vault track." "No issues, maybe this is just a skip. I'll listen to the next. Oh wait nvm. Um." Like girl what. It just feels like a giant vault album of synth pop music.

Also, it's called the tortured poets department. There is barely anything poetic or tortured about the album aesthetic. Except maybe it's torturing me, but I'm as much of a poet as she is, which basically means I'm not one.

The album just feels so different than the other albums, in the sense that they followed an aesthetic, a certain style of music and lyrics, and created some sort of story. This one just feels like she wrote many songs and put them all on an album, picked whatever track name seemed interesting enough as the album name, and called it a day. Some of the songs are gems, some create a confusion as to why they are on this album, and some just make you cringe- or atleast go "wtf". Which is fine, but if not even half the songs fall under the first category out of 30 songs, then it's a problem.

These were written by... taylor?

The lyrics omfg. I'm not going to be one of those ppl who go around saying that the lyrics sounded like an emo middle schooler (I've heard this take) BUT again, some songs have lyrics that make you question how taylor, someone who wrote the albums folklore and evermore, and many great songs like would've, could've, should've, story of us, all too well, fearless, white horse, dbatc, daylight, red... I could keep going tbh, produced...this.

It was very weird to listen to the words "tattooed golden retriever" from someone who wrote "handsome, you're a mansion with a view" (also who the FUCK is calling matty healy that??)

A very important part of taylor's music is how it is focused on the lyrics. The music itself isn't the most special, or different, in most of her songs, but what makes them (and her) special is her songwriting. However, from her songwriting going from commonly used phrases and idioms to make them tell a story, use a wide range of vocabulary, heavily using personification, allusion, transferred epithet, and a few other figures of speech that she uses in her songs to make elements such as colours, for example, tell a story, in a way it seemed effortless and fit perfectly, to this... now it feels like she's trying to do that, but that's it. She's TRYING, and it's not yielding results, and seems more like a try hard "poet" rather than... whatever she was going for. The songs are filled with self-satisfied "clever" metaphors that are being reused and recycled over and over. This is not what ppl meant when they asked you to be more environmentally friendly, taylor.

Final thoughts I guess?

While the songs are basically only an empty shell of something that taylor used to make, the album isn't all bad. Some of the songs do sound good and go well with taylor's voice (aaron dessner, the fucking legend you are) and are quite enjoyable, if not as memorable as her other songs.

There are songs such as the prophecy, clara bow, so long, london, loml, guilty as sin?, etc., that really do come through and honestly I really like them.

I do feel that the album can grow on people, but it's just... not the best. Like she says so much, and not to quote taylor swift, but genuinely the only thing in my head right now is "the more you say, the less I know".

Overall, the album is fine, but not in taylor swift standards. It's just... not bad, with some exceptions.

[brainrockets]

ADHD creativity is so often such a tasty melange of things and experiences collected from all over then repurposed to unexpected ends.

It can be hilarious, feel random (but absolutely NEVER is), be some of the most harrowing shit you've ever heard or seem super profound.

Great examples of this:

Aabria Iyengar - it feels really obvious to me what a lot of her influences are because she's a tumblr girlie and a science nerd and knows kdrama beats and regency shit. Like all I'm saying is acofaf was my absolute jam and the bear made sense. She's got the plasticine corpses in her repertoire and I've got an osteology lab in mine. I get how that informs your norms.

Ursula Vernon/T Kingfisher - knows a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff. Particular interests in art and animals and birds and nature. So you get stuff like the hive mind hares and her horror that is too based in stuff I know I'm scared of so I will fully admit to being too chicken to try. But literally every other thing she writes i am down for.

Emily Axford - similar taste in books, has odd gaps in her pop culture knowledge, loves to figure out how to use rules to make literal magic happen. Will frequently surprise others. Which sometimes surprises me because like she's pretty open about what she's been reading or doing and the "randomest" stuff is like extrapolated from those experiences. Not to say that it's not brilliantly done, just that the steps feel obvious to me. Like her whole speech about three blind mice in Never After happened after other relevant shit happened that clearly put it top of mind for her to draw from.

Xiran Jay Zhao - they are pretty open about their inspirations for Iron Widow. (Anime and Chinese harem dramas) and it is one of the books I am forever throwing at people because it's so good.

I mean, I also have adhd so I'm used to making those leaps anyhow. It's so nice to have such amazing ADHD creators around. To have media that feels like the way being in a room with a bunch of other folks with ADHD can feel. Where everyone is ping pong balling off each other, jumping from one topic to the next and following and being followed. Not having to explain why things go together. Making new things from all the component shinies you've collected. Trading shinies with others.

Just thinking about that in the wake of yet another dope af episode of Misfits and Magic where Aabria was doing some dope ass terrifying world building.

[oliviasthatgirl]

Bed Chem - C.S + Reader (Pt.1)

~• This is my first fan-fic writing ever, so its not gonna be perfect. I'm gonna try my best, bear with me lol. This is gonna be fluff and then go to smut later on throughout this series of short stories. They might come late because of school, but ill try to be frequent. This is based off of Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter!✨❤

[ Warnings!!! - This contains Fluff to Smut later on. Contains a little Language. This is an 18+ story! Names used: Princess, Daddy, and a few other things if I missed them. Contains: Fingering, Daddy kink, and other small things like that. Uses (y/n) ]

~• There may be a few Spelling and Grammar Errors as well as Repetition, but I'm gonna try my best to avoid that stuff.

Enjoy Girly's!✨

-----------------------------•~Bed Chem~•--------------------------------

You and Nick have been best friends since high school. Ever since you moved to Boston, and that first day at school, you two bonded immediately.

You found it fascinating that he and his brothers were triplets, but you never really were attracted to any of them. And Nick was gay so it only left you to Matt and Chris, if you wanted.

================================================

One day Nick texted you asking if you wanted to come hang out at his house. Of course you wanted to, you hadn't been doing anything that productive today and was infact bored. You texted him and stood up off your bed.

" What to wear, what to wear? " I tapped my chin. I look through my closet. I'll just settle for comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. The cute shorts were light blue with a white graffic T. I slip on my Uggs and head to the kitchen. I rummage through the cabinets looking for my Stanley. I take it down and walk to the fridge. I fill up my Stanley and grab the car keys of the counter.

I was eager to go to Nicks house, I haven't seen him all week. I also thought about how his brothers were gonna be there. I didn't know them as well as I did Nick, and hoped to get to know them better.

The drive comes to an end when you enter the driveway of the Triplets house. I park the car and get out. I walk up to the door anxiously. I ring the doorbell. After a few seconds I hear steps approaching the door. Nick opens it.

Nick - " Hey (y/n)! Come in. "

(Y/n) - " Hey Nick, its so good to see you, I've missed you so much. "

Nick - " Me too, come sit on the couch so we can chat. "

He leads you over to the couch and you both sit down on the plush sofa. You look around the room. New pictures and decor fill the surrounding walls. The room feels lively and peaceful, like the perfect place to sit and chat.

(Y/n) - " This place looks nice, have you done more Home Improvement? "

Nick - " Yeah we did, Matt and Chris actually helped with most of it. "

(Y/n) - " Well, it looks really good. I can tell a lot of time and money has been spent on keeping It looking nice. "

A hour of catch up chat occurs. You and Nick catching up with each other in person. When the idea of you spending the night pops into his head.

Nick - " What do you think about spending the night? The sounds fun right? "

(Y/n) - " Yeah, that sounds fun! "

______________________________________________________________

It got late quick, and you end up settling in the guest bedroom. You hear the front door open and Chris and Matt walk in chatting kind of loudly. They had been hanging out with Nathan all day and just got home.

Chris - " He kept bitching to me about how bad I was, and that he is better, but he wasn't I literally 1v1'd him crazy. I coulda done it with my eyes closed. "

Matt - " Don't get too cocky Chris, he beat you more in the game than you shoulda allowed. "

Nick walks out of his room to the front door living room space where his brothers were loudly arguing about a Fortnite battle they just had. He glares at his brothers.

Nick - " Can you guys stop yelling and please shut the fuck up. (Y/n) is spending that night here, and you two storm in bitching and yelling and you woke me up, imagine her right now. "

I throw the sheet to the side and lift myself up. My legs go over the side of the bed and arise to a stand. I walk towards the door and softly open it. I walk to where the commotion is.

As you walk up, Chris immediately shuts up and looks at you. He looked at your body and face. You looked so attractive in that moment. Your hair slightly messy and clothes ruffled. His mind wandered, but he kept himself in line.

You noticed the way he looked at you and you got a little obsessed. The way he admired your body and features made you feel some sort of way you hadn't felt with other people.

Chris was wearing a white jacket with a matching white beanie. He looked hot. You didn't know him well, but damn, he was hot. You and Chris got a little too distracted looking at each other, that you didn't realize Nick and Matt trying to snap you both out of this love like trance you were both in.

Nick - " Chris, (Y/n), hello? Get a room already! Chris is drooling over you. "

You turn and look at Nick, breaking the eye contact with Chris.

(Y/n) - " My bad, Imma go back to bed. "

You turn and walk back to the guest room, still not taking your mind off of the moment you just had with Chris. It was strange, you didn't know him, but you felt like you did. You felt like you knew him your whole life and were very similar.

I get into bed and lay down, drifting to sleep once again.

In the middle of the night you get up to go get some water, expecting everyone to be asleep.

The room was dark, so I just instinctively went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. I backed up to turn and walk back to my room, but bumped into something. Not something, someone.

I jump slightly in shock and gasp. I turn and see Chris standing there smirking down at me.

Chris - " Hey princess, getting water to hydrate those pretty lips? I could hydrate them another way, just saying. "

He bends down to get eye level with you. He leans closer to your face. You can feel his warm breath on your collarbone and face. He leans into your ear.

Chris - " I could tell you, or I could show you, in my bed. "

He said that romantically, but kind of mysterious. You wanted to know what he was gonna do, but he was also looking very attractive tonight so you gave in.

Chris - " I knew you'd give in to me, no one can resist me. "

I look over at him. His veiny arms were looking extra fine tonight. The shadows of light illustrating the details on his arm. I could also see his muscle flexing and I couldn't tell if he was doing that on purpose or not.

He opens the door and closes and locks it. He turns and looks at me. I know what it means, I know what he wants.

(Y/n) - " You know if you wanted me this bad you could of asked. "

He doesn't say anything, instead he walks across the room to me in a few quick strides and picks me up with ease. He walk me over to his bed and throws me down but not hard.

Deep down you loved how he did this to you, he didn't hurt you, but he was rough with you. You admired him for this.

Chris - " Listen princess, I'm gonna make you feel good. I can feel chemistry between us, be freaky with me. Match my freak. I'll make you feel feelings you never have ever. Don't be nervous. You look gorgeous! "

He wastes no time and pulls down your shorts. He lifts your hips and fully takes off the shorts. He grins down at the warm spot in between your thighs. He slowly and agonizingly runs his fingers down your thighs. You feel the pressure and pleasure slowly build up.

You want his touch, you both know that. He runs his fingers over your clothed cunt. You wet more at the feeling of this.

(Y/n) - " Ple, Please Chris. Touch me. "

Chris - " Beg for it, and call me something other than Chris. Call me daddy, yes. Beg for daddy to touch you. Use your words. "

(Y/n) - " Please, please, please, touch me daddy. I'm gonna cum soon. Put your fingers inside me. "

You feel a knot in your stomach ready to be released. You are in the middle of an orgasm. You don't crave anything other than touch now. Specifically Chris's touch.

Chris - " Good girl, I like when you beg for me like that. "

He runs his fingers over your thighs and pulls your thong to the side. He rubs your swollen bud before putting a finger inside. Slowly back in forth before he adds a finger.

(Y/n) - " Yess, daddy that feels so good. I'm so close. "

You hold back a moan as Chris goes faster. As he goes in and out, you get more and more wetter riding out your orgasm. You are so close. The knot slowly releases. You cum all over his fingers.

Chris - " Good girl. You were very tight and nice for daddy. "

He licks your sweet juices off his fingers and grins down at you.

You both get a little tired and decide to go to sleep.

He turns you around and you both lay on your backs. You both fall asleep in each others arms.

______________________________________________________________

~• Hope you enjoyed!

~• Pt.2 will be coming soon! This story isn't that good and may be a little cringy, but after all this is my first fan-fic, and it is a SERIES so it will hopefully progress and get better down the line. I hope you enjoyed it. I tried to do a long story but not too long. Tell me if I should write longer stories. Requests are open!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me know if you wanna be tagged for Pt.2!

[ninyard]

Okay I NEED some Allison headcannons

Here’s some ideas if you need any lol:

Like how does she help Neil feel more “normal” after everything that happened? I feel like Matt, Dan, and Renee would probably walk on eggshells around him for a while, even after Nathan dies and the championship game and everything, cause now the adrenalines over and now they have to deal with the aftermath. I feel like Allison would just treat him normally. Not unkindly, but give him a sense of normalcy, yk?

favorite ice cream flavor

How does she react to Seth’s death post-aftg? How do the rest of the Foxes help her process her grief about Seth? Cause from Seth’s death to the last championship game is about 8 months, and death (especially of someone you love) doesn’t just go away like that fast ofc

Favorite brands? (She definitely owns AT LEAST once juicy couture set)

Music taste?

How do you think her relationship is with the other foxes? What are some things that she talks about and does with one person, but might not do with another?

How motherly she is with Neil. Seriously we all know she dragged this boy by the ear to the mall so she can buy him some real clothes.

Some chaotic Allison cause this bitch (affectionate) definitely has done some crazy, weird shit

Girls night with The Girls!! (And Neil, he’s an honorary member)

her friendship with Andrew (srsly i so hc them being friends..they’re both judgy rude bitches (in a good way) so there’s no way they’re not like..secretly watching shitty reality tv together)

Sorry about how long this is! Make sure to go eat and drink some water Nin :)

-💜💜✨

YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME bc now i just. want to write about them all so

I feel like Allison wouldn't tiptoe around the things Neil's been through or done. She's been straight up with him before about all of his lies and how she doesn't/didn't trust him, so I think if there's something on people's minds, she's not going to step around it or avoid the elephant in the room. If she's pissed, she'll tell him. If she doesn't understand something, she'll say it. But I think Neil would appreciate that more than knowing people are talking about him but won't just come up and ask him something themselves. It'd feel more normal if she addressed it, rather than just leaving a tension in the air/nobody feeling like they can joke about it or anything with him.

Some sort of sorbet. She used to say something like lemon, but truth be told her favourite is raspberry.

God, grief works weird. I think she cried. A lot. I think she spoke to Bee about him a lot, and I think every time she heard his name or saw his picture it was like she was finding out he was dead all over again. I think it was really, really hard for her. As much as they fought, as much as they broke up and got back together again, he was her rock. He was all she had, he knew her. She doesn't really have family to rely on, she can't call her mom or dad up to be like "My boyfriend died and it's destroying me". I think it was a very lonely time for her no matter how much the team insisted they were there for her. (I would worry about her recovery in the immediate aftermath of his death - I like to think that Abby was really looking after her for those first few weeks to keep her on track and make sure she was being safe and kind to herself)

Youre SO right with the juicy couture. That's just such a given when it comes to this series. Maybe she wore Abercrombie and Fitch too but i don't really know any other brands from 2006 oops

She's a bubblegum pop girly i think. Probably fucked with Avril Lavigne and Rihanna at the time. In my head she's a girls girl so Kylie, Britney, Fergie, P!nk and Beyonce. All the ladies like that.

I've mentioned my thoughts on her and Kevin before and how their relationship as friends develops post-TKM but as for the others. I think Dan, Matt and Nicky are the ones she's closest with, but the first one she'll call for advice is Renee. I feel like Nicky is literally like her gay best friend and they're ALWAYS arm-in-arm. If she needs someone to go shopping with it's always him. They're always bitching and gossiping. Her and Aaron aren't very close, especially considering the choking incident, but I feel like they still appreciate each other on the court and still with hug and congratulate each other when they do well. I don't know about her and Andrew either. That's a tricky one, also considering the choking thing, but I know she's also not afraid of him, either. She sees what he did for her after Seth's death, and so that have a sort of mutual respect, but I don't think they're exactly friends. I feel like her and Neil would be pretty good friends, but aren't exactly going out of their way to hang out with each other.

I LOVE how much she cares about Neil. I think he's cute to her. I think she literally wants to pinch his cheeks and cuddle him even though she knows everything about his past and what he is capable of. He has that Wesninski smile and she's like AWWWW

Like. Listen. I do feel like Allison can be NUTS. I feel like if she didn't restrain herself she's the kind of girl to key someones car for cheating on her or pop someones tyres because they catcalled her. She'd fight anyone on a night out to stick up for her friends, even if she's just about blackout drunk, she's ready to fight. I feel like she's had one of those movie moments on the court where she screams. Like you know what kind of scream I'm talking about. One of those movie girl screams. She can be a total cunt if she wants to be. But most of the time she doesn't

okay i want to write more about the last two but im trying so hard rn to clear my inbox and drafts because i feel like so many ppl think i'm ignoring them so i will leave you with these few thoughts on Allison <3

[drowninnoodles]

Just gonna watch Pearl through and leave commentary in one ask lol. So you don't have 1000 asks lol.

She a southern gal'??

yes girl stab it ig? Is this foreshadowing?

Alligator??? Fun fact that was my highschool's mascot. (In my freshman year at least, was only there for 9th grade)

This takes place during the Spanish influenza???

Thought the dad was dead for a second LMAO?! Bout' to say why they just got a corpse sitting there.

If I had a penny everytime some girl in overalls went looking for something in corn fields I definitely wouldn't have to worry abt gas money.

Bro what is this girl doing with the scarecrow-

Its giving that one time the Joker just danced in the washroom in "The Joker".

Bro why you kissing it like that?!?!

BRO THE "I'M MARRIED!!" girl? You just danced with and kissed an inanimate object???

BRO SHE'S STILL GOING WHAT THE FUCK?!

ew.... Sorry had to skip lmao I just couldn't.

Girl can you stop bathing in front of your father-

Girl what. I don't see how you think I have her vibes tbh. But I'll watch the rest and see.

Bro idk her name but this blood chick that just showed up with the blong curls yk, her eyes are so blueeeeeeee my god.

She likes kissing cows too apparently.

Yo how old even is she??

Bro this is kinda hard to watch....

Okay so dad gon' die?

Welp nvm.

Welp that's a traumatized mother.

Oh shit that's a real traumatized mother, pop off?

Well shit she really just said her daughter was a mistake and a failure.

Whoop- ooooo girllllllll they gon' die??

Lol.

Welp she just dragging the body, kk.

Bro the dad looks terrified.

Did she really just kill her mother, leave her father, and then go cheat on her husband lmao?

IS THAT HER HUSBAND?! Bro the timing in impeccable.

Bro a little late for "sorry" girl. Like cmon.

Aw sucks there's maggots on the meat.

Bro. Cheating again dude? I have a feeling ima need to skip in a minute. -_-

Okay we good nvm he left lmao.

Pearl jumpscare lmao.

Bro he is so unimpressed.

Nah we aint the same, girl can't even keep up with her lies lmao. "Did I do smth wrong?" yeah bitch you fucked up. Couldn't even remember the lie you said a second ago. I'd do better. I've done better lmao.

Why you screaming girl- you have a husband lmao. "Your scaring me Pearl" is crazy.

Oh? Murder?? God damn girl?? Okay?

Damn she crazy?? Oh????????????

Chat im in love?

BRO HOW IS THE MOM NOT DEAD?!

Oop nvm she prolly is now-

"Let's clean you up" she says to her dad as she's covered in blood.

The red dress reminds me of Lydia I love it.

Is she gon' kill the dad?

Yep, knew it lmao.

I know that alligator eating good.

BAHAHAHAHAHAH THE "thank you, but its gonna be a no" after she did all that.

"Pardon?" LMAO.

Girl suck it up. Or just murder em' yk.

STOP WAIT THIS IS WHERE THAT AUDIO CAME FROM?!?! "I'm a star!! Please I'm a star!!" BAHAHAHAHAHAH.

Girl stop screaming it ain't that deep.

If your gonna cry do it silently.

Oh Lord not the snot I can't even.

Kk so is the blond chick gonna die next??

"I don't feel well" she says after killing her family and the man she cheated on her husband with.

God damn- girl.

Again, how old is she lmao??????

Lmao she was relieved when her baby died? Kk girlie.

Gotta give props to the actress, bravo.

Bro "I liked how killing felt" is so real omfg.

Bro the blond chicks reaction is priceless. She's like "oh shit nah I gotta get out of here".

Welp, she gonna die.

Bro the "don't lie to me" part reminded me so fucking much of what I was like a few years ago.

Just realized but why her eyebrows so hard to see lol.

Knew it, she gonna die.

Yes girl get it?????

Oh cmonnnnnn, they didn't even show her dying.

LMAO?!

Okay girl chop the body up ig?

Welp were having maggot dinner with corpses apparently.

Yo is her husband finally back???

Imagine coming home from war to find this shit lmao.

Bro her awkward smiling is hilarious.

Oh shit she crying now.

Bro is she constipated.

GIRL BREATHEEEEEEEEE

why she kindaooks like a horse-

Finished movie

Shit man, how have I never watched this before lmao. Gonna be honest all the sex stuff at the beginning threw me off a bit... But I mean the murder shit hell yeh 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

What vibes you said I have like her tho lmao.

chat idk just whole insanity stuff kinda reminded me bout you. may be wrong ofc

perfect commentary tho, laughed hard

also there is second movie where she is old but there is many sex scenes so you probably wouldnt want to watch it. its kinda plot related though so i didnt skip cause shit was happening lol. its called X if u ever want to check. imo great movie but hard to watch kinda because yk.

anyway glad u enjoyed uwu

[bittenbyyou]

hello i’m not sure if you take requests butttt if you doooo could we get a fourth of july thing where the reader gets anxious from fireworks and just wants to be with peter for comfort for us sensitive girlies🙏😩🤭 (also i love ur writing it’s so sweet and silly hehe)

Title: Sparkles and Surprises

Fourth of July!AU | Fireworks!AU | Boyfriend!Peter Parker x Reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, lil comedy

description: requested

word count: 2.7k

warnings: Peter doing the most and having horrible time management skills, one Far From Home reference, just fluffy fluff.

a/n: THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! I've never done a request before, it was fun. I hope I did your request justice. Your compliment made me smile. :)

Peter checked his phone, alarmed to see the flurry of texts asking where he was. Time slipped by without him realizing and he had promised to be there for you tonight. He texted you back that he was on his way as he cleaned up his area in Mr. Stark’s lab. With a hurried thanks to his mentor, he was out the door swinging back to his apartment.

[Y/N]: Don’t text and walk!

Peter: 😘

Actually, he was texting and swinging, but you didn’t need to know that. Aside from almost crashing into a bus just now, he was fine. He couldn’t wait to show you what he had been working on because this Fourth of July was going to be perfect, thanks to his foolproof three-step plan.

In his backpack was step one, the thing he’s been working on at the lab for the past week. During the time you’ve dated, Peter learned you were highly sensitive to loud sounds. It startled you to the point of where you didn’t even like having balloons at your birthday party in case they popped. The very thought of today’s holiday brought you immense discomfort because you couldn’t stand fireworks.

So when your family said they were going to see the fireworks show, you sighed and accepted your fate of spending the night alone again this year. However, Peter couldn’t accept that. He didn’t want you to face your fear alone. He immediately offered for you to come spend the night over at his place. You feared you were holding him back from enjoying the night, but he didn’t care about fireworks. He cared about you.

“Okay, I’ll be at your place at 8:30,” you said over the phone. 

“Great. Aunt May will let you in. I have some things to do with Mr. Stark and then I’ll be right there with you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“You promise you’ll get home before the fireworks show starts?”

“Of course.”

“Pinky promise?”

He laughed, putting his pinky in the air. “I’m pinky promising the imaginary you in front of me right now.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.”

You smiled to yourself. “Alright. Don’t be late.”

As he swung through the city, he spotted step two: your favorite place for take-out. He landed gracefully at the entrance and walked in, noticing how long the line was. 

“Aw man…”

Checking the time on his phone, he tilted his head side to side, calculating if waiting in line was worth it. The thought of seeing your face light up with joy if he’d show up with your favorite food convinced him it was worth the hassle. He tapped his foot impatiently, deep down wishing Spider-Man got a free pass to the front, but he knew that’d be abusing his status. After enduring 15 minutes of waiting, he reached the front of the line and ordered your usual, making sure to include all the customizations and sauces you liked. Fortunately, the food came out quicker than the actual waiting in line to order. Peter rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash and spare change. He attempted to pay, but disaster had struck as the coins slipped from his grasp. 

His eyes widened in disbelief as the floor transformed into a sea of copper. He let out an exasperated groan as he hunched down to pick them all up. 

“Of all coins, why did it have to be pennies?” he muttered. 

“[Y/N] is calling, Peter. Do you want to take her call?” his AI aka Peter’s suit lady asked. 

“Oh! Yes please!”

“Babe, where are you? The fireworks show is starting really soon. I already hear some people firing them nearby.”

“I’m coming, beautiful. I promise I’m almost there. I got off at the wrong stop and it’s a long story, I’ll see you soon!”

He ended the call, feeling guilty for the white lie, but his plan would make up for it. Speeding up the process, he used his webs and lumped all the coins into one big blob, presenting the bizarre creation to the cashier with an exaggerated shrug.

“Keep the change,” he said, giving him a playful finger gun gesture. Leaving the perplexed cashier behind, he left the shop and checked the time, knowing he was ready for step three of his master plan. 

It consisted of going to your favorite cafe, just a short block away. Peter’s confidence soared when he noticed there was no one in line, as if the universe was on his side. Approaching the counter, he flawlessly ordered your drink, stunning the employees with his eloquence in listing all your favorite add-ins. The drink was almost done when a group of enthusiastic fans burst into the cafe, excited to see the iconic red and blue-clad superhero. 

“Oh my gosh, can we get a picture? Please?” 

“Do a backflip!”

Even though Peter attempted to decline, he ultimately gave in because Spider-Man was compassionate. He loved all his fans (even the relentless ones who couldn’t take a hint). Besides, there was plenty of time to get back to you because he had now completed all three steps. 

“Thanks Spider-Man!”

“Yeah, no problem!” he shouted back as he ran out of the cafe after the impromptu photo session. He checked the time once again, sighing in relief that he had time to spare. Unfortunately, his heightened senses detected something amiss nearby. Peter groaned, torn between his desire to help and the urge to get home quickly. “Damn it.”

He turned a corner to spot a group of criminals causing mischief in an alleyway. Setting down the food and drink, he approached them, determined to bring justice.

“Guess crime doesn’t take a holiday, huh?” Peter quipped at the startled group. They stopped fighting momentarily, staring at each other before sending a hail of bullets his way. Peter evaded their attacks effortlessly with a perfectly executed backflip, dodging the projectiles with ease. With a mischievous grin, he shot out a series of webs, ensnaring the criminals and leaving them dangling like confused pinatas.

Things seemed victorious for Peter until more thugs suddenly showed up, almost like a hidden level in a video game. He threw up his hands in mock frustration and groaned.

“You guys are ruining my night, you know that?”

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

*Thwip, thwip, thwip, thwip*

“Hey, let us down!”

“I think you should thank me for giving you a great view of the fireworks. Have a blast, fellas!”

Oh man, you were totally going to kill him now. His phone was spammed with texts from you, mostly asking where he was.This was not how it was supposed to go down; his plan was meant to be foolproof. Panic set in, and he hurriedly grabbed the food and drink, bolting home to change in the only secluded spot he could find. Then he sprinted up the stairs to his apartment, unfortunately spilling the drink on himself from clutching it so tightly against his chest. 

“No, no, no, argh, ew. Ugh,” he groaned, drenched in the beverage. He persevered and unlocked the door, stepping in and calling out for you.

*BOOM*

“Babe, I’m here!”

Aside from the fireworks, only silence greeted him in response. He threw his backpack onto the nearest table, glancing around the empty living room and kitchen. Where were you? Wait, where was Aunt May?

“May?”

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

He narrowed his eyes, seeing his bedroom door open. He headed straight inside, only to see his bed covers slightly wrinkled and his blanket missing. 

“Babe?” he called out, voice laced with concern.

From the left, faint sniffles reached his ears, drawing his attention to the closet door. He set down his stuff on the dresser and then opened the closet to reveal you, cocooned in a mountain of blanket, tears streaming down your face. As your eyes met his, he felt his heart ache. 

“Oh my gosh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, immediately lowering himself to your level and enveloping you in a tight embrace, feeling how much you were trembling. A whirlwind of emotions flooded through you—anger for his lateness, fear from the fireworks, and joy from the comforting scent of his hoodie. Yet one emotion trumped them all as soon as your chests collided.

“... You’re wet,” you managed to say in between sobs. “Gross…”

“Ah, yeah, I did this stupid thing and spilled the drink I got you.” He quickly took off his hoodie and discarded it to the side, hugging you once more. 

“You’re late.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You pushed him off you and hit his chest repeatedly, your strikes were too weak to do any real damage. “You were late!”

*BOOM*

You jumped back into his arms, scared out of your wits. He couldn’t help but chuckle, holding you tight with one hand on the back of your head. 

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” you muttered, squeezing him tight. 

“I know,” he replied, his voice filled with understanding.

You two stayed like that for 15 minutes, giving you enough time to take some deep breaths and enjoy being embraced by your boyfriend. Somewhere along the line you allowed him to join you in your mound of blanket after he asked you with those beautiful brown puppy dog eyes of his. 

“It’s so loud… and it’s not stopping anytime soon.”

“Well, I got you something. Wait here.”

You lifted your head off his shoulder and protested, “No, please stay.” 

“I promise it’ll be okay. I’ll be right back. It’s just on my dresser,” he said, pointing to the furniture item that was only a few feet away.

*BOOM*

You shut your eyes tight, taking another deep breath before letting him go. Peter rushed to the dresser and grabbed all the stuff, then returned to you and closed the closet door. With a pull of the switch on the ceiling, he lit the closet with the soft glow of the lightbulb before settling down.

“This is your favorite drink, um… well half of it,” he said sheepishly, handing you the nearly empty beverage. 

“Peter…”

“And I got you your favorite food. It might be cold now though, do you want me to microwave it?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“And I got you–”

“Peter, stop.”

He froze, sensing the seriousness in your voice. “Is something wrong?”

*BOOM*

You winced at the sound, but remained strong. “Aside from the constant explosions… yes. I appreciate you going out of your way to get me my favorite things. I’m thankful, really.” 

Your eyes went toward the floor, your nerves getting the best of you. Peter placed his hand on top of yours. “It’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You were late. And I really needed you here. You broke your promise to me,” you expressed with a tinge of disappointment.

“I know and I feel awful about it. I just wanted this night to go perfect for you. I wanted to impress you,” he explained sincerely.

Your head snapped up, surprise and affection in your eyes. “Impress me? You don’t need to impress me.” 

“I don’t?”

“No. I’m impressed by you everyday. You’re sweet, thoughtful, so unbelievably smart, and…” you trailed off once you noticed how wide Peter’s grin kept growing. 

“And~?” he prodded, his eyes sparkling. 

“Cheeky. Irresponsible. Late,” you teased, unable to contain your laughter. His smile faltered, but you quickly reassured him. “Thank you for going out of your way to get my favorite things. But you forgot the most important one.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he held his hand rested on his head in a thoughtful thinking pose. What could he have forgotten?

“Oh! Wait! Here’s the last thing I got you.”

He whipped out a pair of headphones that had been hiding behind him. “I made these with Mr. Stark. They’re noise-canceling headphones, so you won’t be able to hear the fireworks. They have a 100% success rate while most store-bought ones only work 99% of the time (how is that any more impressive, you thought, laughing on the inside at his nerdy rambling). You won’t be able to hear anything. You can play music or call me and other cool features. And I made it your favorite color! Here.”

He carefully placed the headphones on your head and you couldn’t help but admire his concentrated face and how delicate he was with you. It made your heart beat faster, and above all, it made you feel safe. That's all you had ever wanted.

“Can you hear me?” Peter asked, his lips moving while you tried to read them. You shook your head. He was always very expressive with his body, shouting “yes!” while doing a fist pump in response.

“But babe this isn’t my most favorite thing,” you exclaimed, not realizing you were shouting louder than you intended because of the headphones. Peter closed his eyes and covered his ears, prompting you to tilt your head in confusion. He opened one eye, a smile playing on his lips.

“You’re shouting!” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“I said you’re shouting,” he said, mimicking the motion of Pac-Man’s mouth with his hands. 

“Oh~. My bad!” you said, still shouting. Peter chuckled at how cute you were before your words finally registered.

"Wait, what did I forget?" You kept your gaze fixed on him, and he realized he had to ask you again. "What's the thing I forgot that's your favorite?"

The way he acted out every word made you giggle because it was like a game of charades. “You! You’re my favorite thing in the world! That’s all I needed tonight!”

His face lit up with joy as he leaned in for a kiss. You closed your eyes as his warm, tender lips gently met yours, igniting a spark that traveled through your entire body. The kiss was gentle and sweet, ending with a soft smooching sound. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his smile matching your own. 

“Well, since I’m your favorite I guess you don’t need this.” He reached into the to-go bag and stole a few fries, eating them without remorse right in front of you. Your jaw dropped in shock at the betrayal as you pulled away from him. 

“Hey, those are mine!”

“But you said I’m your favorite!” You didn’t register what he said or even cared, trying to get the food back from him, but he lifted the bag high out of reach. You nearly climbed over his seated body, making him nearly choke on the fry out of laughter. In a surprising move, he somehow got past you and opened the closet door, darting to the living room. You chased after him around the kitchen before watching him hop over the couch like it was nothing. 

“Peter Parker, I swear…” Your sharp eyes then noticed his backpack, which was partially open and what appeared to be a sleeve dangling off it. The vibrant red and blue colors made you squint as your mind pieced the clues together. Peter followed your gaze and his face grew panicked. “What is that?”

“What is what?” he said, a tinge of nervousness in his voice. Despite not you being able to hear, his face said it all. You went over to his backpack, but he snatched it and hid it behind his back. 

“Is that what I think it is?”

Peter held his hand up in a stop motion when you tried to grab it from him. “D-Depends on what you think it is.”

You took off your headphones, unfazed when the last firework crackled in the distance.

*BOOM*

“You’re Spider-Man.”

Peter scrambled to think about what to say next. “W-Well, Aunt May isn’t here. She-She’s Spider-Man. It’s hers.”

“Then why is there a suit in your bag?”

“I’m just her glorified sidekick Spider-Boy!” he spewed out frantically. 

“But May’s watching the fireworks with Happy,” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Wait, they're dating? Aunt May and Happy? Wow, that's... unexpected. Gotta admit, I'm a bit out of the loop on this one."

“Don’t change the subject!”

He used his free hand to snatch the headphones back from your grasp and dramatically placed them on his head. 

“Oh no, babe. I can’t hear anything you’re saying. Wow, these work really well, I can’t even hear myself. Hello~, hello~?”

God, you wanted to kill him and kiss him all at once. You grabbed the nearest non-threatening weapon and Peter started to scream.

“NOT THE BANANAS!”

*BOOM*

Thank you for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts, feel free to shoot me an ask or comment in a reblog. 💞

[maladaptivewriting86]

Welcome Home - September Ch1

Eddie Munson x Reader, friends to lovers, slow burn

Also posted on ao3! This is part 1!

Summary: Reader has moved to a new city/state every few months since she was born. She shows up to Hawkins in '85 having to repeat her senior year after learning nothing last year due to changing schools 3 times.

Eddie is repeating his senior year as well, lucky for him. He meets reader in class two weeks into the year and is immediately drawn to her due to her I-don't-care attitude and her Metallica t-shirt.

The two hang out often, studying, drinking, smoking, and healing their respective traumas. But how long does reader have before her dad announces that they're packing up and leaving Hawkins forever, leaving Eddie and the new friends she's made behind forever?

Reader uses she/her pronouns but is non-binary. The term didn't exist in the 80s so she describes it as "I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one."

Reader is AFAB, there will be references to anatomy (smut), but for the most part, she's not really "girly".

AU, the upside down doesn't exist, Eleven and Will aren't mentioned (sorry).

CW for this chapter: mentions of parents with substance abuse issues

AN: This is absolutely just self-insert for me but I really like it and maybe it will be relatable to a small number of people or just entertaining, I don't know. But thanks for reading either way!

I'm planning on each chapter being somewhere between a day to a week of in-story time. Some might be super long and others kinda short, I'm not sure. This is my very first work that I've ever written so I have no idea how its going to work. Each month will have its own chapters (all contained here in this one work) and the story will just kinda flow through the months that reader is in Hawkins. Bear with me, this all might change at some point haha. I have a lot of ideas though as this is literally just my maladaptive daydreams put to paper. Eddie makes my brain melt. Enjoy!

Walking out of the school office with your class schedule in your hand you sigh, taking in the new surroundings once again. This is the eighth high school you've been to in the past four years, and the second time you've been a senior in one of them. After moving three times last year and missing so much of your first senior year, you had to start from scratch in a new school, Hawkins High. Pretty boring to name a school after the city, but you've seen it done so many times that you don't give a shit anymore. Just as long as this is your last one.

The receptionist in the office had pointed you in the direction of your assigned locker and handed you a sticky note with the combination on it. Memorizing the numbers on the gross-yellow paper, you head in the direction she told you to go. 982, 983, 984, 985... 986. That was yours. You stop in front of it and rest your head on the door as you look down and turn the lock in the correct order. You had no faith that this year would be your last, you already accepted that if you couldn't finish high school on your second attempt, then you would just drop out and figure out what to do after that. School is fucking tiring.

The bell rang to signal change of classes and students began to flood the hall. Already missed the first period and study hall, off to a great start. As you pop the lock open and step back a little to open the door, a solid body slams into your side and a book goes sliding down the corridor.

"Hey, watch it freak!" The body yells at you.

You turn to look at who just walked into you. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair in a super high ponytail; a cheerleader uniform; and her tits on full display, absolutely breaking the dress code.

"Sorry, didn't realize you liked to walk with your eyes closed." You grumbled as you rolled your eyes and turned back to your locker, beginning to unload your binders from your bag. She walked into you , that was definitely not your fault.

"What?" She snapped. She took a few steps to the side so that she was right next to you continuing to stare at the side of your face, and at your Metallica shirt, and your ripped black jeans, and dirty shoes. She instantly clocked you as someone who was beneath her so she narrowed her eyes and gave a sickening smile. "Ohhhh... great, another freak to join the freakshow. Just watch yourself okay? And don't get dirt on my uniform." She accented the last line by wiping down the front of her skirt with her hands aggressively a few times before stepping away and bounding down the corridor with her group of friends who looked identical to her, ponytails swishing in unison as they walked. One of them stopped to pick up the book that was dropped and handed it back to who you assume was their leader. All five of them turned to sneer at you before continuing on their way.

"I fucking hate cheerleaders." You thought to yourself as you closed your locker and looked at your schedule again. Your second class was English. An easy enough class, after a bit of a rough start in the hall.

As you entered your classroom you made your way to the desk at the front where the teacher was sitting.

"Hi, I'm y/n. I'm new, I just moved here yesterday and I was told to introduce myself to my teachers when I got to class so... hi." You said quietly to your new English teacher.

"Well hi! I'm Ms. Davies, it's nice to meet you. I'll write your name into the class list. Can I see your schedule?" She seemed way too smiley and chipper for your liking, but at least she didn't seem like she was going to be a hard-ass.

You handed her your schedule and she nodded and confirmed that you were in the right class. She copied your name down on her attendance list and then stood up, handing back your schedule.

"Please don't-" before you could ask her not to, she began announcing your name and welcoming you to the class.

"We have a new student today! Y/fn. Everyone please be kind, she'll be a little bit behind as we've already gotten through two weeks of curriculum but I'm sure she'll catch up quickly!" Smiling, probably very proud of herself for embarrassing you, she turned to you and pointed to an empty pair of seats at the back of the class. "You can take a seat back there... I would say 'next to Mister Munson' but it seems that he won't be joining us again-" just as she said that, a boy with long, curly, brown hair, a denim jacket adorned with pins and patches, ripped jeans, and absolutely no school supplies walked into the class. "Well, never mind. Here he is." She said, a little surprised by this guy's sudden appearance.

Keeping your head down to avoid the stares that you were most certainly receiving, you made your way to the back of the class and sat down in one of the seats Ms. Davies had pointed to.

The long haired boy's eyes hadn't left you since he walked through the door. He also made his way to his seat and sat down just slightly after you. "Metallica fan eh?" He said, nodding to the t-shirt you were wearing.

"Yeah." You said, a little more blunt than you meant for it to sound. "One of my favorites." You added, noting that most of the decor on his vest were metal bands.

"You've got good taste." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly not intending to pay attention to the class.

"Thank you." You said, honestly. "You seem to as well," pointing at one of his pins, you said "Judas Priest is pretty good too."

The boy beamed. He was honestly really cute, especially when he smiled and his dimples were on full display. He squeezed his crossed arms tighter and wiggled a little, obviously a little giddy, and leaned over to you a bit "I like you. I think I'm going to annoy you for the rest of the year." He said with a sort-of-joking-sort-of-not tone.

You let out a soft laugh and smiled back at him. "Sounds good." You replied, somewhat sarcastically, though you also weren't going to say no to gaining a friend immediately. Especially one who seemed to have the same taste as you. 

He extended one of his hands toward you, intending for you to shake it. "My name’s Eddie." He introduced himself smoothly, his name sounded so royal leaving his tongue.

"I'm y/n." You replied, shaking his hand gently. His fingertips were a little rough, he probably played guitar. "I guess you missed when my name was announced to the world by Ms. Davies up there." You let go of his hand and gestured lightly up to the front of the room where Ms. Davies was writing something on the board. Something you're already not learning.

"I did miss that, unfortunately. I'm sure it wasn’t embarrassing at all and everyone was all 'hi y/n! Welcome to Hawkins High! We hope you have a wonderful time here! Go Tigers!'" He raised the pitch of his voice when he imitated the students, making you laugh a little harder than before.

"That's absolutely horrifying! You make them sound like a cult! I'm glad they didn't say that to me, I think I would've walked right out the door and never came back!"

"I think anyone would!" He chuckled. He looked very pleased with himself that he made you laugh as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed again, but still smiling wide.

As the two of you settled into comfortable silence, you took your notebook out of your bag and attempted to take notes on… MooBath ? With the fantastic mixture of Ms. Davies’ terrible writing, your terrible eyesight, and your lack of glasses, the board at the front of the room was nearly unreadable from where you were sitting. Squinting your eyes and leaning forward you could make out that it was actually MacBeth that she was teaching, not something a cow would say while getting cleaned.

“Forgot your glasses at home?” Eddie asked softly. 

“No, I don't have any. Can't afford them.” You said simply, trying not to make a big deal over the fact that your parents didn't care enough about you to spend less money on their addictions so they could actually take care of their child. 

“Oh. Well that sucks. You should sit closer to the front then.” He said, like it wasn't the most obvious solution. 

You laughed lightly, “I would've but this was the only seat open and I doubt anyone would be kind enough to move just for me.” You looked back at him, he looked very comfortable leaning back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on you. 

“Don't ask ‘em then. Just sit. We don't have assigned seating so you can sit wherever you want.” He shrugged and leaned forward, putting his crossed arms on the desk. “Plus it would be fun to see the cheerleaders whine about not getting their way.” A somewhat devious smile spread across his face. 

“We'll see.” You said with a small smile, turning your attention back to the teacher. You decided that after missing the first half of the lesson you should at least try to take notes from just her voice alone. It was a struggle, she talked very fast and went on plenty of tangents that didn't have much to do with the subject matter. By the end of the class, you had about a page and a half of notes that you were only 60% confident in being correct and a bit of a headache from squinting at the board. 

The bell finally rang while Ms. Davies was mid-sentence. It startled her a bit but she dismissed you all and wished everyone a good rest of the day. On to lunch!

As you packed up your things and exited the classroom, Eddie stuck right by you chattering away. “Hey you should come sit with me and my friends for lunch! You'll fit right in! They're metal fans too!” He seemed to have a ton more energy than he did in class for some reason, or maybe he was quiet on purpose so that you could try to take notes. 

Stopping at your locker to exchange your books for your lunch, you smiled at him “Okay, I'd love to.” Why not? Worst that could happen is they hate you and you spend your time at another school completely alone. Best case? You gain some friends for a bit, until you have to pack up and move to another town in a month or two. 

You could feel that Eddie was practically vibrating as he led you to the cafeteria, eager to introduce you to his friends. He kept his hand on your shoulder like he was afraid you'd run away or get lost on the short journey. Approaching the long lunch table he waved his hand toward a few younger boys on the left, probably freshmen or juniors, and ordered them to “Scoot!”. They looked at him like he asked them to sacrifice themselves. “I said scoot!” He repeated, now using both hands to usher them all down one seat. 

“Well, you don't have to-” you tried to stop the disruption of their natural seating but Eddie just waved at you stating “They're fine. Have a seat!” He beamed once again when you took your seat, every single boy at the table staring at you like you'd just appeared out of thin air. 

“Friends, this is y/n.” Eddie gestured to you like he was unveiling a masterpiece at a museum. The rest of the table greeted you with tentative “Hi.”s. One guy in a leather jacket, on the opposite side of the table asked “You managed to bring a girl to our table? How'd you do that man?”

You chuckled a little “Well, I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one if that makes you more comfortable. You can call me whatever you want, honestly. I’ve heard it all. But I wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with cheerleaders and doing my makeup and giggling and shit. I'm not into all that girly stuff. But uh… anyway… hi.” You gave a little wave and looked at everyone around the table. Most of the older guys looked similar to Eddie in terms of clothing style. They looked pretty metal and some of them had jackets like Eddie. The younger boys were a little more toned down but they seemed to fit in really well with the general vibe of the table. 

Eddie smiled at you as he pulled up a chair and sat at the head of the table, like a king, you thought. “y/n here, is a new kid. Just moved in from…” He looked to you to finish his sentence for him. 

“I don't even know, I only lived there for three months. Somewhere in south Indiana. Started with a B I think?” you shrugged. You genuinely couldn't remember the name, and the city itself was already a blur in your memory, as with most of the cities you've lived in. 

“Bloomington?” one of the boys to your left asked. He had very curly hair tucked up into a hat that said Thinking Cap .

“Yeah, sure, that sounds right.” You replied, opening your lunch bag and taking out the sandwich you made this morning. “Pretty boring place if you ask me.”

“Hey, wait, are you the one that just moved next door to me?” Another boy to your left asked. This one had shoulder length black hair and bangs, it kind of seemed like he was trying to look like Eddie if you were being honest.

“Probably? I just got here, dude. I don't even know my own address, let alone yours!” You laughed, trying not to sound mean, but wanting to get the message across that you don't know anyone or anything in this town. You took a bite out of your sandwich and looked towards Eddie, who was once again leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking at you.

Eddie laughed and adjusted his sitting position so that he was leaning back just a little bit more, legs spread apart like he owned the place. “She’s new, like I said. But I think she fits in with us already. An outcast, a metal head, possibly a freak like yours truly.” He meant “freak” in the same way that the cheerleader had meant it when she walked into you at your locker; a person who doesn't conform to the normie bullshit and instead proudly displays their true self to the world.… that's probably how he meant it, you think. 

“I appreciate that, Eddie.” you said, smiling at him. Something in his eyes flashed as you said his name, fear? Arousal? Just simple appreciation? You weren't sure.

The rest of the table appeared to accept that you were part of the group immediately. It seemed that Eddie was their leader and they would follow his every word. Again, like he was a king. Unlike other “kings” you had met, Eddie actually seemed to take pride in being a leader; he accepted the responsibility and he cared about his “subjects” a huge amount. He certainly had power, but his friends respected him and his ideas. It felt very fair. 

“So what do you guys do in this town?” You asked between bites of your sandwich. “Sex, drugs, alcohol and loud music?” You were only half joking with that suggestion, they were the main things most people did in every place you've been to, but you were looking for more of a “places to go” answer.

“I mean, you're pretty spot on.” The guy right across the table piped up. He had sort of poofy hair and a plaid vest that had a bunch of pins on it. “We’re in a band so… we’re the loud music bit.” He gestured to Eddie and the two other guys on his side of the table.

“Woah really?” You were honestly a little excited about this information. “I assume a metal band, yeah?”

“Duhhhhh!” Eddie droned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Nothing else is worth playing.”

“Well, slow down there cowboy.” you laughed, “Other music is good too! Doesn't all have to be sick guitar solos and screaming your lungs out. Sometimes it's nice to chill out to some Elvis.”

“Oh god.” Eddie suddenly looked scared and sick as he stared directly at you. “I was wrong… you're secretly… a normie!” He dramatically flailed his arms and pretended to pass out, like the shock of your extended music taste had killed him. The whole table laughed at him, you included. The sheer drama of this man was keeping you hooked, you were already having fun and you had only just met him. He was comfortable to be around though, like you’d known him since childhood. When he opened his eyes and sat up, you were the first thing he looked at, your smiling face, laughing at his little act.

“You should come watch us play some time!” The guy in the plaid vest offered.

Pulling your eyes away from Eddie, you answered, “I’d love to! Where do you play?” You absolutely would love to see them play! You just hope that they’re some kind of good.

“Every Tuesday at a bar called The Hideout. It's a little far from here.” 

“Oh… well I don't have a car, anyone I could hitch a ride with?” You asked, looking around the table. The younger kids probably didn't have cars either but maybe they had other friends who went to see the band play.

“We can drive you.” Eddie answered quickly. “You can be our first groupie.” You think you saw him wink at you.

“Hold on, really? You never offer rides to non-band members. Something about the sanctity of the van or something?” Plaid vest looked shocked at Eddie’s immediate offer.

“Yeah, well, I've made an exception.” Eddie waved his hand and his words were accepted.

“Really, you don't have to if that's not your thing. I can find my own way there some time, or I'll watch you play someplace else. No biggie. Don't make exceptions for me, I'm not special.” You pleaded. You really didn't want to just force your way into their group, it could end badly if you pissed people off. You could handle being alone or kicked out but you wouldn't be able to handle being the reason the band or the friend group broke up.

“No, really, it's fine. If we bring you along then you'll be forced to listen to our whole set and then maybe we'll finally have a fan!” Eddie explained. “We play tonight if you want to come?”

Suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed, you pulled away, “I… can’t tonight. I have a lot of unpacking to do. I still have to find all my clothes.” You laughed a little uncomfortably. “Next time though, yeah?”

Eddie looked a little saddened by that, but understanding nonetheless. “That's okay!” He reassured, “Next time.” He gave a warm smile to let you know he wasn't trying to pressure you.

“We- we also have a DnD club!” Thinking Cap kid said excitedly.

At this, your eyes brightened. You'd played DnD a few times at different schools, they always ended on cliffhangers though, because you left before the campaign could really get going. “Really!?” You asked. “That's so cool!”

Everyone at the table got excited then; asking you if you were serious, what kind of character you played, if you've ever DM'd, just question after question, none of them getting answered. You laughed as the boys bombarded you with queries and Eddie progressively got more and more annoyed with them. 

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” He yelled, silencing the table immediately, and a few others next to yours. He was standing now and he turned to you, “You're lying right? There's no way you're actually into DnD.” He looked a little hesitant waiting for your answer. Hopeful, maybe, that you were telling the truth. 

“No, I'm not lying! Honestly, I've played a few times but none of the campaigns I've been a part of have gotten anywhere because I moved before we could get to the good stuff.” You explained. 

“Ho-ly-shit!” Eddie said, emphasizing each syllable. “You're perfect. You're actually perfect. Sent from heaven, we've gained an angel, boys!” He raised his arms to the air like he was praising a God, the table roared with excitement again. Then he dropped his hands down onto the table with a bang! Making you all jump a little. 

Suddenly very serious, he leaned into his hands, looming over you slightly and asked “What's your class and level?”

Realizing he was quizzing you, or maybe this was a hazing? You answered immediately, “I play a Half-Elf Paladin named Sebastian. With my limited amount of play time I've managed to eke him up to level 5.” proud of your answer you lifted your chin up to Eddie, showing him you weren't lying and you definitely knew your shit. 

The table was silent again, watching the two of you battle. “Backstory?” He questioned. 

“Sebastian was abducted by a group of thieves when he was 15. He spent 20 years under their command, being the muscle to their brains. One night, the thieves’ camp was raided and Sebastian joined the raiders’ side, killing the people who took him hostage. Now, he's sworn an oath to kill or punish every thief or criminal who holds prisoners or slaves captive. He’s also searching for his lost parents that he was ripped away from.” You held eye contact with him the whole time you told your story. Your character's backstory was something you were very proud of and you weren't going to let him make a fool of you. 

Eddie leaned back away from you, sitting comfortably in his chair again. “Not bad.” he praised. “I'm thoroughly impressed. I guess we can add ‘nerd’ to your list of qualities that make you fit in here.”

You smiled at him, a warm feeling in your chest growing as you felt the validation from him. “Thank you. I wear that title with pride.”

“Okay! So she's joining us right!? This is fricken awesome!” Thinking Cap shook his clenched hands in front of him in excitement. 

Still staring at Eddie, you raised an eyebrow to him, questioning if he wanted you to join or not. 

“That's up to her.” He stated. “I think it's clear that the invitation is open.” 

Glancing at the table full of smiling guys, all of them on the edge of their seat, waiting for your answer, you simply said, “Then I accept.”

The table roared a final time and you received a few pats on the back and a few “Welcome to hellfire!”s. Meanwhile, Eddie was grinning from ear to ear, trying to play down his excitement, but you could see the way he squeezed his crossed arms together, the same way he did when you talked about music in class. He was definitely happy that you said yes. 

When the excitement finally died down and everyone settled into a lighter conversation, Eddie scooted his chair closer to you and whispered somewhat close to your ear. “If we're too much for you, you can tell us to back off. I didn't mean to bombard you with so much shit on your first day. You just seem really cool, and that's rare around here, so I wanted you to have some equally cool friends.”

Turning your head slightly to look at him, you noticed how comfortable he was with being so close to you. And how comfortable you were with it as well. “I'm enjoying it actually,” you whispered back. “I've never felt this welcome before.”

“Good.” Was all he said as he moved away from you, showing off his dimples again with a smile. 

You finished your lunch while listening to the multiple conversations happening around the table. Two boys were bickering, three were talking about guitar solos, and Eddie and Plaid Vest were discussing something very quietly. You thought to yourself “Okay, I definitely think like it here for once.”

“Hey, lunch is almost over,” Plaid Vest announced, looking to you. “What class do you have next?”

Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled out your schedule. “Ummm… History, with O'Donall.” 

“NO WAY!” Eddie yelled from right beside you, startling you a bit. “So do I! Let me see your schedule!” 

You handed the paper over to Eddie and both he and Plaid Vest (you really should have asked everyone’s name) looked over every class. “None of those are with me, unfortunately.” Plaid Vest said, slightly disappointed. The end-of-lunch bell rang and students began packing up their lunches, returning their trays, and leaving the cafeteria. “I'll see you later tho!” He waved at you with a genuine smile and left the cafeteria.

“You’ll never fucking believe this, but we have every single class together!” Eddie said excitedly.

“No way.” You said flatly, you did not believe that one bit. The rest of the table started packing up their things as well and heading out. Everyone gave you a polite “bye” on their way out.

“I'm serious! Well, except for first period, but the rest of today we do! I’d show you my own schedule but it's in my locker.” Eddie insisted. He stood up as you did and kept to your side as you made your way back to your locker to gather your things. 

“So what you're saying is: I'm never going to get rid of you?” You joked, opening up your locker.

“Oh absolutely!” Eddie said with a devilish grin on his face. “Guess you and I have to be friends forever now.”

“Well… forever for me might only be a couple months before I move again, but I think I can handle you for that long.” You teased, pulling the last of your class stuff out of your locker and shutting it.

“You're going to move again? You just got here.” Eddie asked. You both started down the hall towards history class, Eddie leading the way.

“Well, I've moved probably near fifty times in my eighteen years of life, so… it's not unlikely that I'll move again.”

“FIFTY!?” Eddie yelled

“Calm down,” you laughed at his sudden outburst, that number usually surprises people. “Yeah something like that. Makes it hard to keep friends.” You said, sounding a lot sadder than you meant to.

“That fucking blows. Why do you move so much?” Eddie was genuinely curious about you, he was leaning in and listening to your every word.

“You'd have to ask my dad. He pisses off a lot of people and then we’re forced to skip town before he gets his ass beat.” You explained. “He's not in trouble with the cops or anything, just like… landlords, neighbors, bar owners, liquor store employees… pissed off a mayor once too.” God your dad’s a mess.

“Wow, what an asshole.” He stepped through the doorway of your history class and held his arm out in front of him, waving you through like you were royalty. It made you laugh, and made other people stare.

“You're telling me.” You said, exaggerated. You walked past Eddie and quickly made your way to the teacher at the head of the room, wanting to introduce yourself quickly this time so that there weren't so many students in the room for her to announce your presence to.

This teacher, once again, confirmed that this was the right class and welcomed you to Hawkins High. As she finished writing your name on the attendance sheet, a shrill voice let out an exasperated “UGH!” from behind you. 

“This is my seat, you freak! Go find a trash can to sit in, or better yet! Go jump off a bridge!” The same blonde haired cheerleader who had smashed into you in the hall was currently screaming at Eddie, who was sitting at a pair of desks in the third row with his feet on the table, not looking at her at all.

“Miss Blackwell! That is enough! None of these seats belong to anyone! Please find another desk to sit in. Mister Munson has already chosen that one.” Ms. O'Donall stated, sternly. She then sighed and added, “And thank you for joining us today, mister Munson.” sounding like she was annoyed that he showed up at all.

The cheerleader and her friend stomped away from Eddie who was now smiling at you, very proud of himself. They sat down at a different pair of desks which caused another two students who had just walked in, to be upset and move back a row, they caused another two to move, and another, and another, and another. Eddie had just disrupted almost every student’s seating habit single-handedly.

“What are you doing?” you whispered to Eddie as you took your seat next to him. “You really wanted to hear the cheerleaders whine huh?”

“Of course! It sounded like fun when I suggested it, and I didn’t think you would do it, so I did.” He took his feet off the desk in front of him and leaned toward you so only you could hear him. “Plus, I figured this was a good spot, you can see the board from here right?”

Did he really just force some cheerleaders to move seats just so that you wouldn't have to sit at the back of the room and squint to see the board? “Eddie!” You whispered, scolding him a bit. “You did not just do that so I could see the board.” You were looking him directly in the eyes, searching for some other explanation than kindness towards you, someone he just met.

Eddie just shrugged his shoulders with a big smile on his face and leaned back in his chair, assuming the same position as he seemed to always do, arms crossed, legs spread.

You continued to stare at him, bewildered that someone would do that for you. A loud voice pulled you away though, “Miss y/ln. I don't think today's lesson is on mister Munson’s forehead, so could you face the board where it actually is, please?” Ms. O’Donall, who you now know will be a hard-ass, was looking directly at you, lips pursed together. “Sorry.” you said quietly, and turned to face her. She nodded sharply and went back to the lesson. You heard a few giggles from behind you, probably the cheerleaders. 

You took out your notebook and began copying the notes Ms. O'Donall was writing on the board, trying your hardest to not look at Eddie. Something in your head kept wanting to stare at him, to get closer to him, to really make a friend this time around. But you knew if you did that, it would end in heartbreak when you were dragged off to another city with your parents. So you pushed it all down. Hanging out with the boys won't be so bad, there's no harm in having fun, you just won't let yourself get too attached to them and the break will be clean. Hopefully. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You managed to get some notes from Ms. O'Donall on the two weeks that you missed so you wouldn't be so behind. And your last class of the day was biology, probably the only class that you learned anything in during all of last year, so it felt like more of a review than new information. Eddie chose to sit you near the front in biology as well, though no one yelled at him in that class, which was honestly surprising. 

When the final bell rang, Eddie followed you once again to your locker. “How did you understand a single thing that Mr. Grinnell said?”

“I've been through it before. This is my second senior year. Fuck every other class, but bio? That's my shit. Well, and art, but that doesn't count.” You explained, pulling your jacket and backpack from your locker. 

“I dunno, I've been through it before too, but I think it made even less sense this time around.” He rubbed his forehead like thinking made his brain hurt. 

You closed your locker and placed your hand on his shoulder. “If you need some help, I don't mind. After all you've done for me so far, I think I owe you something. We can help each other finally finish our senior years. Well… help each other for as long as I'm here.”

Eddie pulled his hand away from his face and looked up at you. “You serious? Because I think I could really use the help. I'm dumb as shit so it might be a challenge, but I'm not gonna say no if it means we get to hang out.” He seemed to be excited about your offer. 

“Yeah, I'm absolutely serious. Gives me a reason to stay away from my house and my parents.” You really hated sitting around the house with your dad who was always drunk and mad, and your mom who was always high and stupid. “But not tonight though, I really do have to find my clothes or else I'll be showing up to school tomorrow in this exact outfit. Plus, you have a gig to get to.” You smiled at him warmly, making sure he knew that you weren't just being nice for the sake of it. You really did like the idea of having someone to keep you on track in school, and you had no problem with helping him do the same. 

“Deal!” He excitedly accepted and stuck out his hand for you to shake. 

You took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “No taking that back now, we've made a deal!” You said, pointing at him. 

He grinned. “Scout's honor!” he swore, raising his hand to place it over his heart, his other hand still holding yours. 

The two of you made your way outside, ready to head home. “Need a ride?” Eddie offered. 

“No, that's okay, I'll walk.” You politely declined. 

“Are you sure? If you live near Wheeler, that's a pretty far walk!” Wheeler must be the kid you moved in next to. The one with black hair that looked like Eddie’s. 

“Honestly, it's not that bad of a walk. I made it to school that way.” Granted, you were late two periods, but that wasn't entirely your fault. You didn't have your alarm clock unpacked yet and you woke up later than you meant to. “It's pretty straightforward. Plus, it's how I usually learn the city. If I get lost, I'll just wander till I find my way back.”

Eddie looked a little worried for a moment so you patted him on the shoulder and reassured him, “I'll be fine. Promise. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah!?” 

He hesitated for a moment but you could see him decide against arguing with you. “Alright then, yeah. See you tomorrow, y/n.” He said, nodding and smiling. 

“Bye, Eddie.” You gave him a big smile and a little wave and headed off in the direction of your new house. 

The walk home took about 20 minutes, plenty of time to sort out your head and take note of all that had happened in the day. You made six friends in one day, definitely a new record for you! You joined a DnD party, possibly became a groupie, pissed off some cheerleaders, and gained a study buddy. There's a good chance that this town wasn't going to be the worst you've ever stayed in. But the looming question of “just how long will this last?” would never leave your mind. 

[elisedonut]

Speaking of PaperSeer

I've been meaning to post all the propaganda i did for them for that Ship Battle separately because I want it be in it's own thing vs hiding in the rbs

None of this is new if you were following those but I like having it all in one place

It's just a bunch of fun concepts or reasons i think they would be cute

Ex-boyfriends older brother? Ex-BFs Older brother!! because that's always so fun and adds some cool drama

OR

on the other hand Dating your crushes little brother specifically because they are related and you have little chance with the older one

They could bond over divination, which has the added effect of Lavender probably not expecting him to like it at all so it's a nice surprise for her when he does.

Could also be used to make a Mentor/Mentee relationship that changes as the years pass

Lavender sending him letters all the time in that first year after he graduates under the guise of wanting help when in reality the poor girl just has a crush.

And Percy is Percy so having someone just want his help with something is just such an easy way for him to become fond of someone.

Something about Lavender I've begun to notice makes me want to pair her with people older than her and while Percy is still close-ish in age his personality would most likely emphasize that gap a bit which is a plus to me

I'm a firm believer in the Percy was very lost after the war concept and in a world where Lavender lives she would be too which also gives them a good jumping point

Like Lavender stays with the Weasley's after the war but with so many people in the burrow there's just too much noise for her because trauma from the war so Percy ends up inviting her to stay with him instead. Which has the added benefit of being good for both of them.

TransGirl!Percy/Lavender would be so much fun I love the concept of TransGirl!Percy with the most high fem girly pop girls I can find and Lavender is no exception to that

Ok so I'm going to add on some extra thoughts to one of the more vague concepts i shared before because its been living rent free in my head

So-

the concept of Lavender ending up staying with Percy for awhile after the war

Maybe she lost everyone in the war (by death or by being abandoned by her family you know either way) Maybe she's just having strong self hatred hours over being scarred and doesn't want them to see her.

Whatever the reason she can't/won't go home.

And Percy lets her stay with him because maybe his family pushes him into it. Maybe he just feels bad about her situation.

if its a Werewolf!Lavender situation where she was abandoned by everyone because of it maybe he just relates to that feeling and invites her because of his feelings of never being able to do enough during the war regardless of how much he had done.

Point is it happens and after a few weeks their able to help each other with things they both struggle with

Percy flat that's been borderline empty since moving in starts filling up with just stuff like obviously you know the normal house stuff he hadn't bothered with.

A couch here. A table there. but also like random stuff. Lamps. Curtains that actually look nice. Rugs. Little things just start filling the place out and Percy realizes more and more that the clutter is nice and is finally making the flat that's been the place he'd slept for years at this point actually feel like a home to him.

How does Lavender get all that stuff? I was mostly thinking odd shops personally like I always envision Percy's flat as in London so despite having not checked for the time frame. I imagine there would be quite a few shops to choose from.

Also having multiple people who are bad at taking care of themselves in general but who are decent at remembering different things in the same house. Means they can help each other with the parts they struggle with more.

In their case I do think a big one would be Percy making sure she's actually eating and Lavender trying to keep him from working to much its basic but i think it works for them.

I think Lavender dives even more into divination post war and that's what she does for like work after awhile. I also think she originally had no intention of going back to Hogwarts to redo her seventh year but Percy manages to convince her too with the promise that she can still stay with him on breaks and after she graduates/

mostly because that being a big catalyst of them realizing they have like feelings feelings after being apart is cute to me

Like Percy comes home from work every day and is just like oh- right like it's for the best and he firmly believes that but he misses the company you know?

Lavender is also having a not great time. She's no coward but that doesn't make returning to Hogwarts after everything that happened in her last year not terrible regardless. She's on high alert the whole time and can barely focus on anything because of it. Even her readings are not going as well. She keeps catching herself thinking about Percy's flat as home.

In the end I think she ends up leaving the school and just like taking her owls at a later date because she just doesn't want to deal with it.

Which also means you get Percy helping her study for it which is really cute

I'll also add all my original, more diverse thoughts I added to their first round below a read more!

We are back to just random thoughts because I don't think I have enough of any specific concept to talk too long

So- Lavender while doing a divination reading seeing that her last love will have red hair and during this time she's still with Ron and as any girl her age just assumes that's who the sight is telling her about

she doesn't really think about it to to much after they break up until she's laying on the cold ground assuming she's not going to make it and then its all

ah- last love because it's my only real chance of it

But then you know in this scenario she does manage to make it somehow

maybe someone is able to stop fast enough to put a statis spell on her or something

Oh a soulmate au where you can save you're soulmate from certain death one single time even if they're technically already gone? that could be fun with them Like maybe as everyone's gathering up the rest of the dead after Voldy's gone and Percy's throwing himself into helping to try not to think about Fred too much and after carrying her for a minute she just wakes up that would really neat

Plus now all i can think about is everyone in the school touching legit everyone that died

you know just in case

just everyone going in a circle and holding every corpses hand for a few moments

could be used as a set up for a lot of interesting ships ngl

Anyway back to the topic at hand

In a scenario where most of the Weasley's hadn't seen much of Lavender after the war just imagine how funny that first time Percy brings her over would be

everyone would be so confused and I think it would be hilarious

[penroseparticle]

Penrose Song of the Day, Day 39: London Calling by The Clash

So I used to scorekeep hockey games a lot. Like a lot a lot. There was a period of time where I could make about 400 bucks a week scorekeeping games on the weekends. I ran the scoreboard, the reporting to Gamesheet (A scorekeeping app), kept a paper scoresheet, and did the music. It was a lot of work to run all 4 of those things at once! Especially if a game got busy.

I've done house level, Travel level, AA and AAA, Really everything. At a certain point you learn the scoreboard machine. You learn when to click what buttons when which whistles blow and you start to get almost mechanical. Like an automaton that reacts to specific noises. And the thing is that no matter how great or badly I did at scorekeeping, no one ever mentioned it after. I could royally fuck up putting the score on the board and I would still get called back the next week to do the clock. Parents notoriously hate working the scoreboard- they just want to watch their kid and get in fights with the refs. Easy money. I charged 60 bucks a game and they forked it over gladly (Hockey parents don't care man. They're paying 8k for the season anyways sometimes. House is like 2k, travel can be way more with hotels, airfare, etc. It's an expensive sport. What's an extra 60 bucks a season to not have to sit in the box and freeze while missing Timmy score a goal.)

What I CONSISTENTLY got praise for was the music I played.

Now I think I have good taste, but I'm not like. Special. Most people have similar tastes, everyone's on the bell curve of "can tell a song is good" vs. "Carrying tunes in tin buckets". It's helped by the fact that some things are kind of obliged- certain songs are, for lack of a better word, required (For instance, Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis is a Chicago Goal song. So if you are doing hockey music in Chicago, you ARE including that song no matter what. Period). So building a good playlist isn't that hard. A little The Alan Parson's Project to kick the games off. Some Chumbawumba for after a tough hit. The Hockey Song because this is Youth Hockey.

The mainstay of the list, for better or worse, is a classic rock/arena rock/current pop mix. It's what people expect, it's what I mostly have to deliver. Pearl Jam, Dave Matthews Band, Huey Lewis and the News, Duran Duran, One Republic, that kind of thing. It's consistently a crowd pleasing list, and it's gotta have energy, be recognizable, and be something that people will want to hear possibly twice over a hockey game. The original playlist was something like 50-60 songs. I thought that would be enough, because I am stupid. Turns out hockey games have 30-50% of their game time with the clock stopped- as in, the times when someone would typically play music to fill dead air. So I added more songs. Put on some Rush because I'm catering to the Dad demo. Putting Imagine Dragons and Boss Beat music in its natural habitat (Don't look at me like that, I've been to sporting events, these songs are made for this). Some pop girlies because I like sports, but I'm still gay. Kesha. Lady Gaga's Bad Romance (permissible due to it surviving in the zeitgeist, etc.).

And then I got... weird with it. One of the first goal songs I ever used was Otherworld. As in, the boss music for when you fight Jecht in Final Fantasy X. VGR's Electronic Amp-Up of Mii Channel features prominently and is a huge crowdpleaser with the 25-45 crowd. Baby Shark exists for when I want to annoy people. Megolovania is on it for god's sake. If it sounds good and is a little Easter egg for someone listening, trust and believe that I put that song on the list.

People loved it. Every game, without fail, between 1 and 3 people would find me after to compliment the music. The playlist was good! I named it "18U no vursing" and have used it for about 6-7 years now.

The problem with making a good playlist is that you have to constantly top yourself. I wanted to make the list better. Have more fun with it, include more jokes, more clever remixes and mashes. Things that people would like.

What made that easy was something so simple I almost overlooked it. People already told me what they would like. There's a reason arena rock, classic rock, and pop music are the bog standard. It's what works for the medium and what people like to listen to.

There's such a thing as getting too in the weeds, too obscure. You gotta remember your audience, your goals, and your scope. I wasn't debuting hot new artists (ok I was sometimes). I was playing music for people during their kid's sport. And so I readjusted my scope. The playlist grew. A few indie picks, the gags that worked (Mii Channel, Baby Shark, Electronic music with a hidden secret, etc.), but mostly pop and rock and that's all.

I'll let you in on the secret for why my hockey playlist got so good and why people started to love it so much. I'll tell you the secret to making any list popular. I started getting suggestions.

And I listened to them.

The first song I added to the playlist due to a suggestion was London Calling. I like The Clash, but there's billions of songs out there, I hadn't thought to put them on yet. But a ref skated up to me during stoppage of play and said "Hey do you have The Clash on there?" and I realized I didn't. I added it mid-game and played it between the 2nd and 3rd periods.

He thanked me after the game.

A couple weeks later I was asked if I had the soundtrack for Slap Shot on there. I started playing Maxine Nightingale, Leo Sayer, the works. The guys had a hoot and were laughing and smiling between periods.

I noticed that refs were a little nicer when I flubbed the scoreboard if I was playing songs they requested.

I asked one of my teams if they had a specific warmup song they wanted me to play. They were delighted to tell me it was Levels by Avicii. I played it every game to kick things off. Another team told me it was Welcome to DC by Mambo Sauce. A third said Welcome to the Jungle.

The playlist grew. It's 400 songs long now. Like a full 24 hours straight.

I don't scorekeep as much now. But I think I'll keep building the playlist, thanks.

~~~~~~~~

Scorekeeping was nice, but playing the music was the part that made it fun. It's made me realize one thing about myself- If Radio DJ was still a job in a way that was meaningful or mattered, I would want that job. I would probably kill for that job, actually. Listening to callers tell me they missed Chappell Roan could I please play Good Luck Babe. Or telling me that their dad's favorite song was Mr. Blue Sky so thank you so much for playing it. Girls having me play Before He Cheats for their dick ex-boyfriend. Wishing people Happy Pride with an hour mix of queer artitst. Having call in time so people could just chat.

I kind of am doing that here, and now, but in slow, painstakingly written, long-form music recommendations. I like making playlists. I love getting music dialogue going with my followers. I like discovering new music, and talking about it with people here. I am slowly, surely, working the same muscles I would need to do exactly that job, just quietly and in my own personal little corner of the world.

You know I have a discord server I made? I haven't added anyone to it, and I probably won't do anything with it. Yet. It's called Radio Waystation. Let me just link the only post I've made in there so far:

"This is for playing your music and sharing it- I might set up a radio rotation but. Essentially I want to use voicechat to let us showcase our music to each other when we want to. Dynamically- You can run a prepared playlist for your radio time, you can do a Q&A or ~Call In~ time. You can actively Disc Jockey. You just have to share your sounds to other people. Your radio time, your rules- you can acquiesce to people's tastes, you can troll people, you can play the sound of silence. You can play the same song over and over. You can express yourself. And sometimes people will say THAT SUCKS and not enjoy your presentation, but ultimately your time is yours alone. (no tolerance of intolerance loophole bullshit- you know what kind of shit will get you pulled off the air, don't be a dirtbag). Workshop a song, get help putting ikea together. But I hope you play some music."

Hey I'm nothing if not consistent.

I now know that's a lot more complicated due to how Spotify and Discord interact, and whether it's strictly speaking legal (I am intimately familiar with music licensing requirements due to my past job, thanks). But I think it's something worth figuring out someday. Someday soon, I think. I want to make my radio station.

Not a lot of today's writeup was about the song, unfortunately. And that's a bit of a shame, because again- I like The Clash. 1970's English Punk Rock had some bangers, babes, and London Calling is like. one of the greats. A recognizeable guitar part, a truly bangin bassline leading in, and just the most moshable, jumpable lyric delivery. You need to be standing pressed against the stage screaming this stuff out with Joe Strummer.

Listen I don't need to defend The Clash bigger nerds than I have done so for far longer than I've been alive. But hey. It's music I love. And as always- You could be dead right now. Go listen to something that you love.

[heyftinally]

https://www.tumblr.com/heyftinally/748388217187958784/i-love-bitching-about-taylor-swift-and-im-glad?source=share

Hi I saw this on my dash and wanted to say I agree with your anon and your reply so much. The thing that annoys me the most isn't that she stays silent about x issues it's that she constantly claims to be a massive ally/activist for x groups/issues but when it's actually time to be an active ally she says NOTHING. It's clear in her doc she only said all that she did about being an ally and how actions speak louder than words to make herself look good bc people were calling her out, not bc she actually cared. What has she done since that doc was made in 2020? She hasn't done many actions and even with just words she's been mostly silent on things.

It's like her constantly claiming she is a massive feminist and cares about women's issues but when many women [along with trans men and NBs] had to deal with abortions being banded/illegal on a federal level in the USA she didn't say anything until after the decision was finalized why bc she's billionaire rich and worldwide famous so it wouldn't effect her. Her fans claim her speaking up before hand wouldn't have done anything and that is the dumbest shit I've heard given her fame and power status. She only cares about feminism or any women's issues when she gets to be at the center of it and she just uses it as a weapon so others can't hate on her.

Let's not even get started how she's the appitmy of "white feminism" [or how I see it caring about feminism only when it benefits herself] bc she screams feminism but I didn't see her saying anything when a poor innocent young woc was getting racist death threats from HER fanbase bc of a tweet SHE made. Wasn't the actresses fault that one line joke was made blame the writers of that netflix show! This situation alone tells me she hasn't "changed/learned" like she claimed in her doc.

She's the exact same as she was back in the day when she was silent on the fact white supremist groups idolized her and claimed her as "one of them". She was silent for years on the matter and only said something when she changed from typical southern country gal to liberal pop girlie and her older pop fanbase was like umm what is this? I honestly don't understand how ANYONE over looks the ws group situation. It's very alarming. She's not a kind of done some questionable things person it's VERY red flag things she has done or in this case not done.

When it comes to the music portion it's just like you said if she wasn't shoved down our throats 24/7 and treated like the greatest artist who ever lived we wouldn't care so much her music is average and her latest album was awful. All the lyrics I've seen on SM are so wtf? Who wrote this? THIS is the "greatest writer of our generation"? Outing her ex as someone with mental health issues and how you just wanted him to "easily get better" so you could love him? Outing yourself as awful [yet again] by saying the things your other ex did was just "bad jokes" and you thougut you could fix him bc racism, misogyny and SAing workers on stage at your concerts are just "bad jokes". Romanticizing 1800s America. Acting like you had a lower class upbringing with many bills to pay when really you had a rich upbringing and your daddy bought your way into the music industry.

Also her putting out 20+ versions of one damn album so she can make as much money as possible and have as many streams as possible is so 😵‍💫. It was such a cash grab when she had the backs of midnight vinyls be a puzzle picture that forced fans to buy 4 vinyl copies of 1 damn album or it just looked like an incomplete shelf piece for fans.

Lastly it's just like you said most of us who dislike her don't dislike her because she's a women it's bc she's an awful person who uses x issues and people to further her own agenda and only really cares about herself and will step on anyone just to make herself look better and more of a victim. The only victim thing she has actually dealt with was her music being bought from under her BUT now she owns her own music and found a way to make it a huge cash grab for herself so she could get that billionaire status. 🤩 She needs to stop using feminism as a means to try and stop people from calling her ass out for being problematic!!!

The post anon is referring to is here, for those wondering

Anon, you are so very, very right, and I personally want to give you a round of applause: 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

One thing I want to elaborate on (because I find it endlessly funny/ironic), is where you said "She was silent for years on the matter and only said something when she changed from typical southern country gal to liberal pop girlie..."

Taylor Swift was *never* a "southern country gal". She's from Pennsylvania. A big white McMansion with a swimming pool in Pennsylvania. All those old songs about summer nights in the country? The cowboy boots? Sweet Tea (referenced in an unreleased song)? Yeah, lies. She painted the image of a good ol' Tennessee princess pretty darn well, didn't she? I'll admit, she fooled me for a while on that, too. But no, she built her career on fraud from day one.

The rest of your ask I'm going to hit point by point, because it's beautiful and made my day and you deserve it.

Performative is her middle name. I about choked when she - a self proclaimed LGBTQ+ ally (side note: you don't get to just decide you're an ally, it's not that easy) - got up on stage in a known LGBTQ+ safe state to make a statement about queer rights, and somehow left queer people out of the statement. It was all "it's so hard for us as friends, family, and allies to see our loved ones face such hatred". As if being an ally is harder than being the queer person actively afraid of getting hate crimed???????? She somehow managed to center herself even when actively talking about an oppressed minority group she has nothing to do with unless she can profit off of us. And she can't even put us at the center of our own oppression. If I hadn't stripped her of her ally status before, that would have done it.

If Taylor Swift can make the impact that she does on economies, the environment, and social trends, she could absolutely speak up about human rights and make a positive change in the world. But she doesn't. Her feral mob loves to brag about how much power they have, but they/their hive mind leader never uses it for anything good. They're just her minions to go bully whoever she's decided deserves her high school mean girl nastiness next. So many artists with ⅛ the reach she does make positive change every day, and she can't be bothered to pay someone to tweet her fake support for oppressed minorities or to stand against a genocide. And it's because she cares about money above all else. Her fans accept the bare minimum of scraps, so she's able to play both sides - before it was the white supremacists and people who weren't raging bigot trash, and now it's homophobes/racists/genocide supporters and people who don't see those things as bad enough to stop supporting someone who happily aligns herself with bigots. It's pure self serving greed.

Is her music shit? Yes. Has it been shit for a while? Yes. But there's alose a lot of music I don't like, for one reason or another. I've never been a fan of "Hey There Delilah" even though it was a MAJORLY popular song. I'm not much of a fan of Maroon 5, or Post Malone, or Yungblood. But unlike those bands, if I turn on the radio at any point, I *will* hear a Taylor Swift song withing twenty minutes. And another one twenty minutes after that. Despite having her blocked/filtered on every social media possible, I see more about her than artists I actively follow the personal accounts of. That's a PROBLEM. Because it's not just that I think both she as a person and her music suck - I'd ignore her as much as I could if that were the case - it's that despite ACTIVELY trying to avoid her, I'm forcibly subjected to her shitty music and shitty actions daily. And her shitty actions aren't just annoying! As a queer person who has queer, black, and disabled friends, her bullshit actively impacts our lives. One of my disabled friends was totally blindsided by this recent "asylum" bullshit, and was so shocked and hurt because, in a different time, they would have been sent to an asylum. They're physically disabled with a degenerative condition. They would have been sent away, drugged up, and forcibly given electroshock and brain surgeries until they died/were murdered. And Taylor Swift is using that aesthetic - disabled people being exploited, abused, tortured, neglected, and murdered - to be "edgy". In turn, she's minimizing just HOW bad that abuse was. That waters down disabled history, and considering disabled people still have to fight SO hard just for basic respect, nevermind access rights and fair treatment, it's an overall thoughtless and disgusting thing for someone with so much money and access to feedback to do.

The multiple releases of albums is nothing short of a scam that her fans keep falling for. I've never in my life heard of an artist doing such a thing. Sometimes you'll get a platinum or deluxe edition if they hit a milestone with that album, which usually has 4-6 new songs and some new art/bonus pictures/a mini poster/etc inside. And that's it, that's the only "duplicate" album we got. Meanwhile, Taylor Swift will release the same album five times in one day, each with one different song and a different cover. She's actively preying on consumerism to line her already fat pockets. At least donate the money to charity! Pick an album = pick a charity? Nope, because she's incapable of not scamming her fans. Case in point: all the Eras merch that requires a masters in chemistry to wash without destroying you $60+ shirt.

She truly has such a huge victim complex that it might ACTUALLY be bigger than her ego. She's no feminist - she'll tear a woman to shreds as soon as it serves her purposes. Hell, she'll tear ANYONE apart just because she's bored. Whether it's siccing her fans on an actress for reading a script she didn't like or basic her ex (AGAIN) for the "crime" of having a mental illness, all she cares about is how other people effect her. She's incapable of compassion, yet weaponizes is and cries big white woman crocodile tears any time her conniving bullshit comes back to bite her in the ass. Then she begs for all the compassion she never shows anyone else. Hell, remember the fan that DIED at her Brazil show? Yeah, that poor girl's family had to CROWD FUND to afford to bring their daughter's *dead body* home for the funeral. Taylor Swift posted a half assed "thoughts and prayers" on her Instagram story - gone forever in 24hrs. But as soon as she gets called out for dating a known racist who gets off to abuse porn? She has every defense in the book as to why "poor little Taylor" doesn't deserve all that mean ol' accountability for her actions. And if she doesn't have the defense? Doesn't matter, her fans can - and have, and will - justify everything up to and including racist harassment, stalking, and death threats!

Genuinely, my dislike of Taylor Swift can be summed up in this: she's a shit person with shit music who uses her disgusting amount of power and money to do nothing but serve herself, regardless of who she hurts in the process. And the rest of us are forced to watch it happen because if you don't worship the chair she farted on people act like you're either stupid, a piece of shit, or both. And then those same people will go on tumblr and post "eat the rich" and "be trans, throw hands" memes as if they didn't just give $300 to a billionaire who couldn't give less of a fuck about any minority to ever exist.

Anyway, thank you again for this, anon. You cleared my skin, watered my crops, and gave me a small amount of faith in humanity back.

[lifeisabitch-butimcute]

hello!!!! 1 & pandalily pls !!! 💖🤍

yayayayay hello!! ofc 💕

When I started shipping them: imma be honest i don't remember when or how i was introduced to them 😅 like a year ago?

My thoughts: we're gonna be here for a while if i share all of them...i'll share the surface level deets. my lily is, in every universe, a comphet lesbian that has either crashed out and is living her best life, reluctantly surrendering to heteronormativity, or in some uncomfortable liminal space in between. pandora is the driving force in teaching lily how to stand up for herself and be her own person, and lily, in turn, acts as a grounding force. pandora lets lily be her own person and lily introduces a new form of love to pandora and it works!! so fucking well!! I'm slamming down one of my favorite pandalily interactions that i've written as evidence (it's short, it's out of context, we don't have tiiiiime):

“I just want to know who you are,” Pandora said quietly. She didn’t look put off by the outburst. “Outside of your accomplishments.” “I am my accomplishments,” Lily replied bitterly. “I don’t believe that.”

What makes me happy about them: 1) lesbians <3 2) lily getting to be happy and being separated from men's expectations of her and her responsibility to them and 3) pandora getting to love and be loved by someone who's not her brother (respectfully. love u evan) in a way that still allows her to be herself.

What makes me sad about them: i mean, canon is....pretty classically sad for both of them. they're dead. but even as a ship, i am kind of gutted by the idea that lily will never be pandora's twin, and i think that's something they both have to reconcile with because evan knows her so well and she's always had that so i think she gets frustrated when someone isn't as intuitive towards her wants/needs/etc. and i think lily would be weighed down for a long time by the feeling of the relationship not being "complete" because there's no man because she's been taught all her life that she is half of a whole and that empty space can only be filled by a man. that's a lot to overcome!

things done in fanfic that annoy me: i say this about a lot of female characters in fics, but i don't like when they have individual characteristics wiped out to make them more palatable and relatable. let them be kind of shitty, they don't always have to be sassy girlbosses or giggling simpering girly pops or whatever the fuck. i also don't love pandora being depicted as a luna 2.0 - i think she runs darker and a lil more twisted than luna. and lily...kinda back to my original point. she's not just One Thing. you can be more than one thing.

things i look for in fanfic: i'll be honest i don't read a ton of pandalily because i'm picky as hell, but i have read ones that i loooove and it's usually morally grey pandora and lily. i believe in several they were cannibals/serial killers. #girlboss

who i'd be comfortable with them ending up with, if not each other: hm. i'm really only comfy with them ending up with other women...i do like lilycissa, and i'm open to other pandora-based lesbian ships, but off the top of my head i can't think of any. if anything i know you would have some so hmu if you've got any 😘 i'm still sitting on my lily/pandora/narcissa polycule idea too.

My happily ever after for them: 1) fuck nasty. 2) travel the world. 3) fuck nasty (internationally) 4) come home, work incredibly successfully jobs, maybe have a kid, if they're feelin it. otherwise, i could see them owning chickens? for some reason? could be a slay. 5) fuck nasty

who is the big spoon/little spoon?: pandora is big spoon, lily is little spoon!

what is their favorite non-sexual activity?: ooooh okay i think pandora really likes recipe experimentation (<- lame ripoff of canon someone string me up) but i love the idea of lily coming home from work to find pandora surrounded by ingredients and dishes and lily's always down to join and sometimes it turns out really well and sometimes they end up ordering pizza but pandora has a tendency to just throw things in the mix based on vibes and lily makes her slow down and write down the process but really they're both right and they have fun doing it so who cares?

BONUS because fun fact i have a multi-chap pandalily fic in process that i! forgot! about!

“Yeah, yeah,” Lily muttered into her glass as she lifted it to her lips. She set it down and said casually, “You can fuck me about it later.” Pandora’s hand froze where it was halfway to her mouth. Her gaze slid up to meet Lily’s. “Is that right?” Lily’s tongue darted out to swipe along her bottom lip, watching as Pandora’s eyes tracked the motion. “We could always have a thoughtful conversation about our feelings instead,” she said dryly, reaching for her own food.  Pandora’s nose wrinkled, and she took a vicious bite of bread and cheese before mumbling through her mouthful, “I’d rather make you scream.”