#I can’t take this man seriously 90% of the time

[nonbinarymlm]

I’ve struggled with replying to this, because in theory I agree with you on many things in this reply, but it also sets my teeth on edge. I’ve been thinking about it and it’s not that you’re wrong exactly, it’s that the way you’re engaging with this conversation sucks.

You took a post from a man criticizing Radfems and said it “sets off alarm bells in my head of people reframing every sexism related issue and treating it as something that primarily/solely harms women to appease people who are vehemently opposed to anyone caring about men being treated like shit.” The fact that you saw a single post that was focused (not positively) on women and a term you seem to be unfamiliar with and decided it was about appeasing people who want to be cruel to men is a you problem.

I didn’t come up with the term “benevolent sexism”, it’s been a term for research on sexism since the 90s. It’s part of a much more complex theory around sexism about gender roles and sexist stereotypes that may ON THE SURFACE be positive called “Ambivalent Sexism”. The reality of these beliefs is that they have resulted in financial, physical, medical, and political oppression of when for centuries. It’s okay to have conversations focused on women about that.

Not to mention that you saw all of one conversation and then decided it was wrong for that conversation to be with women. I agree that the negative attitudes of sexism toward men deserves more discussion, but a single tumblr post focused on women does not harm men in any way. You are not, in fact, required to dismiss or derail conversations about women in order to have conversations around men. It’s detrimental, in fact, because this kind of bad faith engagement makes complex discussions around gender more difficult.

If you cannot handle a single post focusing on women (by being critical of them! this is clearly not a radfem post) without implying that it’s wrong for the post to focus on women, then you are not helping these discussions.

ESPECIALLY because I literally run an mlm blog that talks frequently about men. It’s literally in my URL. You could have taken two seconds to search “men” on my blog to see I frequently reblog and make posts about the issues men face. Imagine saying stuff about complex sexist stereotypes on a post about women? Like? Are you seriously implying it’s bad that I made a single post about women?

If this were the only type of post I made about sexism, then sure. But like I said

I Post

About

Men

(And related issues)

All

The

Time

(And I have made more posts about this and these are only posts I made myself, but reblogged ones!)

I made one (1) post focused on women and I get accused of trying to erase the struggles of men, center conversations about sexism only on women, and acting like I am trying to frame my discussions as appealing to radfems. Do you see why this might rub me the wrong way?

So if you can’t see one single post from me about women without assuming I only center conversations about sexism on women then that is a problem with how you are engaging with conversations about sexism.

We should have more conversations about the ways men are affected by sexism, but these conversations need to had in good faith. Your addition was not in good faith, and what’s most frustrating is that you KNOW your addition was not in good faith. You said “more charitably” because you know the earlier part of your post was not, in fact, a charitable interpretation of this post at all. You also just posted that interpretation without bothering to double check it at all. :/

I understand having a knee jerk reaction to and assumptions about a post. But if you want to have actual, meaningful conversations about men and sexism? Then you are going to have to learn to put your knee jerk “alarm bells” away to actually take others in good faith.

TL;DR seeing a single post about women and reacting that the person who made it always focuses their conversations on women despite having “mlm” in their URL is just so bad faith that it’s the kind of take that makes discussions sound sexism harder to have in general. We do need more discussion of men, and I contribute to that, so engaging with my efforts on that would have been more productive and helpful then criticizing a post about women for being about women.

We need to bring back the term “benevolent sexism” into widespread use for real. It’s a major mechanism in how bioessentialist Girlboss Radfems can be turned into bioessentialist conservative Tradwives.

[localsamalicer]

Tried to do some more serious Sam faces, failed miserably

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Halloween, 1978

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: Ye I guess today is just one of those goin through it kinda days. I am excessively sad and i, like 90% sure its just the after affects...effects of my period. Its whatevs

Day 12: Cardiophilia

Eddie stands behind Buck, rubbing his shoulders 

“Come on man, come on you got this”

The crowd around them cheers as Buck shoots the little ping-pong ball into the cup and the other team loses. Eddie shakes Buck and they both cheer along, high-fiving and doing their stupid little dance they’d been doing all night every time they got a shot. 

Eddie’s so distracted (and drunk) that he hardly even notices you walk past, that is until he spins around to grab Buck another egg roll and splashes what’s left of his drink all over your nurse costume, and subsequently your chest. 

“Oh my god!” You shriek and his mouth flies open 

“Oh god! Shit, fuck, shit I’m so sorry I’m-“ 

“Take her to the bathroom upstairs!” Buck shoves him toward the stairs and Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he profusely apologizes the entire way up. 

He locks the door and rushes to get towels for you, he awkwardly pats your chest before just shoving the towel into your hand. 

You snort and turn toward the sink, to dab some water on the light stain and sigh. It’s difficult to clean it up at this angle… 

“Hey, Doctor?” You ask as you look into the mirror. 

Eddie had decided to be a doctor for Halloween, he’d done a couples costume with Buck who was the patient with a giant blood spatter all over his gown. 

“Yes, Nurse?” He chuckles, shaking his head and you smile 

“Mind if I borrow your lab coat for a while? I think it would be easier to clean this if I took it off” 

“Oh yeah of course” He takes it off while you unzip the front of your dress, he knows he should have looked away, but he couldn’t help himself. You look at him as you let it fall from your shoulders, he gulps as he keeps his eyes laser-focused on yours, no way is he looking down at that lacy bra and… and 

Okay, he was looking. The strings of your panties cling to your hips and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You smirk and turn to run your dress under the water and he shifts uncomfortably, discreetly adjusting his hardening cock. 

“So uh- if you- if you wanted some privacy?” He points at the door and you dry your hands, before slipping on the lab coat 

“No, it’s okay… I think that’s gonna take a minute to dry and I don’t know, I guess I’d be pretty bored alone. That is if you wanna stay” 

“No-no I’m so cool with staying- I’m… fuck am I good with staying”

“Uh huh, I bet” You smile, walking over to him. Your heels click against the tiles with each step you take, you reach out and grab his stethoscope, toying with it 

“This thing really work?” 

He smirks “Yeah of course it does… Why? You think you need a checkup?” 

“I don’t know… I’m feeling a little faint” 

You fan yourself playfully and he takes a step forward, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. He takes the end of it, putting it to your heart. 

“Mmm, I think I know the problem” His lips touch your throat and he can’t help but grin when he hears your heart rate pick up. His hand slides down your side as he kisses your neck and it goes crazy. 

“W-what’s my problem?” You whisper and he chuckles 

“I think your heart is beating too slow… we should seriously do something about that. Could be dangerous” 

“What do you suggest?” You mumble breathily and he looks up at you, nuzzling his nose against yours 

“Maybe a kiss? Just to start things out..” 

You nod slowly and he captures your lips, pushing you back against the wall, keeping the little circular part against your chest. He can hear the way your heart rate skyrockets as he kisses you, your soft moan amplified in his ears. 

“Mmmm taste so good“ He kisses across your jaw, leaving hot kisses in his wake, he feels you grab onto the front of his scrubs as he slots his thigh between your legs. You whimper and he growls as you begin to grind against it. 

“Soundin’ so much better baby girl” He pants in your ear “But you’re still not where I want you…” 

He takes your hand and puts it on the stethoscope to hold it in place before his fingers slip inside your panties. He feels your wetness and grins against your skin. 

“Maybe this will help… you gonna be a good girl and take your medicine?” His fingers find your wet folds and you gasp, immediately rolling your hips against him 

“Mhm” You mutter, your body shuddering and he shakes his head

“You don’t sound very convincing” He moves his fingers away and you whine, your hips chasing after him. He leans down again, his lips attaching to your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

“Yes Doctor, I’ll be good and take my medicine, I promise” 

Eddie groans against your neck, his fingers picking up speed as he thrusts them in and out of your tight heat. He can feel your walls clenching around him, your arousal coating his fingers as you work your hips on his hand desperately.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you need” he encourages you, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, squeezing your nipple through the thin lab coat. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Sugar. I can’t wait to bury my cock inside you.”

He captures your lips in another bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he continues to finger fuck you. He can literally hear you getting closer, your body tensing beneath his touch, your heart beating out of your chest. He’d never been harder in his life and he can’t believe listening to you is getting him so worked up. 

“Do it,” You beg, your body shaking under his “Just put it inside me please, I want you to b-bend me over and-“

His pants are down faster than you can even finish the sentence as he twirls you around, pressing you into the wall.

“You want this, baby?”He asks, his voice rough with desire. He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing you.

“You want me to fill you up?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, thrusting forward and burying himself deep inside your tight heat. You both moan at the sensation, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groans, starting to move inside you. “So tight, so perfect”

“So yours” You purr as your head falls back against his shoulder. 

Eddie grins, his eyes dark with lust as he watches your face contort with pleasure. He loves seeing you like this, so lost in the moment, so desperate for him.

He picks up the pace, his hips slamming against yours as he pounds into your tight heat. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the small bathroom, mixing with your moans and gasps. Neither of you can even be bothered with wondering if anyone can hear you, the music is loud enough anyway. 

“That’s it, baby” He praises you, his voice strained. “Take it all. You’re doing so good.”

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m going to fill you up so good, sweet girl. You’re gonna feel me for days.”

His hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles. He can feel you getting closer, your walls starting to flutter around his cock. 

His other hand comes up, wrapping around your neck and you hold onto his wrist. He can hear your heart pounding in his ears, it matches so perfectly with his he could cum right there. Your hot, breathy gasps, your high-pitched whining, it’s all in his head right now as you completely overwhelm his senses. 

“God Eddie you’re t-too big, too much”

You pant, your cunt fluttering around his cock, taking him deeper as pumps his hips into you. He feels his legs getting weak as you say that, his cheeks flushing pink. 

His grip on your throat tightens slightly as he feels your pussy clench around him. The thought of making you come undone on his cock is driving him wild.

He increases the pace of his thrusts, his fingers rubbing your clit harder and faster. He can feel his orgasm building, that coil so close to snapping, but he holds back, determined to make you come first.

“Cum for me”, His voice was low and sexy. “Let go, baby. I want to feel you cum all over my cock.”

He leans down, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, marking you as his. His other hand slides down to grip your ass, pulling you deeper onto his cock.

You shatter on his cock, your orgasm flowing through your body all the way to the tips of your fingers. His name spills from your lips over and over again as he keeps pounding into you, fucking you through the waves of pleasure.

Eddie feels your body shake and tremble as you come undone beneath him. Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. He groans, his hips stuttering as he fights to maintain control.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasps, his hand tightening around your throat. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

 He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his hot seed. He moans into your mouth, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

 You both stay like that for a moment, your bodies intertwined, he can hear your hearts pounding in sync. Finally, Eddie pulls back, his softening cock slipping out of you. He helps to keep you on your feet, holding you close as you both try to catch your breath. 

“We have got to do this more often” You giggle as you take the stethoscope from his ears and put it back around his neck. 

“You’re telling me… that was fucking hot” He nuzzles into your neck and you turn around gingerly, giggling and holding onto him tightly. 

There’s a knock at the door and Eddie groans, walking you both slowly over to the door and cracking it open. 

“Hey I’ve got some club soda for Y/N’s costume… apparently that just gets shit out of everything” 

Buck lets himself in and goes over to the sink, pouring it over your dress to soak. 

“I can’t believe you spilled on her, we’re supposed to be a group costume. Now we don’t have a nur-“ 

He stops in his tracks, noticing your disheveled looks… the way he’s holding onto you… the glossy look in your eyes, and the exceptionally bright blush on Eddie’s cheeks. 

“IN MY BATHROOM?!” 

[dreamwatch]

My Occupation is Syncopation

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #14 - Prompt: And The Winner Is... | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Steddie (background) | Tags: banter, Gareth wears glasses, not as often as he should, 90s Corroded Coffin

I promised you no misery today, but I made no such promise to Gareth! 😂

Title from a quote by Ringo Starr.

****

“What?”

“You can’t answer your phone like that, man, it’s unprofessional.”

“Did you wake me from my slumber to berate my telephone manner?”

“Why are you still in bed?”

“You know how we’re in a band? Well, unless you want to start playing at weddings and bar mitzvahs we need songs, which someone has to write—“

“Okay—”

“—and that someone is me. I sacrifice my sleep when inspiration strikes—”

“Yeah, yeah okay, woah is you, the tortured artist. Have you seen Modern Drummer today?”

“Oh yeah, I like to read it after I’ve perused The Wall Street Journal. It’s a real palette cleanser.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

“I do know that.”

“Never mind, man, I’m on my way over.”

“No, no don’t—“ 

Gareth hangs up before Eddie has a chance to say no. Because this is fucking big, and the only way Eddie is going to understand is to see it in person. He grabs a few copies of the magazine (he had to get more than one, there’s his mom and dad, his brother and sister both need a copy, one for each of the band, and then a few extra in case he forgot anyone), and his car keys and he’s out the door like a flash.

Eddie lives ten minutes away which is either very convenient when they’re drunk and they need to get each other home, or very inconvenient when only one of them is drunk and needs a ride or a place to stay. Today it’s very convenient. Matt has a cool little townhouse, but it’s like an hour away so he’ll drive over to him later, and Jeff is out in the hills now ‘because you can get so much more for your dollar out here, dude’ he said like some weird real estate bro, so he’s getting the news by phone.

Outside of Gareth and the magazine staff, Eddie is the first to know.

He pulls up outside Eddie’s little apartment. He can afford something better now but he refuses to let go of this two bed little shit box, because of ‘the memories’, as if the fact he bought Wayne a really nice house by the beach isn’t the reason he can’t afford something bigger and better. But he spends as much time there as he does in this shoebox so…

He takes out his key, the one Steve gave him because ‘he worries’, and strides into the kitchen where Eddie’s sitting in his boxers, nursing a coffee.

“Why are you in my house?”

“Good afternoon to you, too.”

Eddie stares at him bleary eyed. “It’s afternoon?”

“Never mind that!” Gareth throws a copy of the magazine onto the counter where it lands in front of Eddie. “Page eight!”

Eddie rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath, no doubt abusive, but then he begins to read. Gareth watches on, waiting patiently as Eddie’s eyes slowly grow wider.

“Oh shit!” Eddie grins at him. “Drummer of the year?!”

“I won drummer of the year, man!” Gareth gives up any pretence of trying to be calm.

Eddie gets up and hugs him tight.

“So fucking proud of you, man. This is awesome.”

It makes something burn in his chest, this feeling of having other people, talented, brilliant people, who he gets to perform with and be around, tell him they’re proud of him. And it’s all the more heightened when it’s Eddie.

“Thanks, man,” he says sincerely. “Seriously, thank you for everything.”

Eddie’s eyes leave the magazine and focus on him, making him squirm a little under the scrutiny. 

“You don’t have to thank me. Fuck, you did this! There are some big names on this list, and you beat them.” Eddie drops the magazine and pokes Gareth in the chest with a long finger. “You. It’s all on you, man. You talented little shit.”

Gareth smiles, feeling oddly shy for some reason. “It’s just… I know, you guys, well you specifically, didn’t want me in the band—”

“Gare, no—”

“No, let me just. I’m not. It’s not a dig, or anything. I know you and Shawn were best friends, and I know you were sad when he left. And he was a great drummer. He would have been brilliant for the band. Probably would have won this years ago.” He huffs a little laugh, trying to take the frown off Eddie’s face, because that’s not what this is. “But, you took a chance on me, and it changed my life. I owe you guys everything.”

“Gareth, I’m not a man prone to hyperbole—”

“Like fuck you’re not.”

“Shut up! Listen to me and understand this: you are an incredibly talented drummer. You don’t owe anyone shit. You earned this,” Eddie says tapping on the magazine cover, “You earned all of it. Fuck, we should be thanking you for not leaving us. You with your fucking… flams and paradiddles and ratamacues—”

“How the fuck do you know what a ratamacue is?”

“I don’t! Thats the point!” 

Gareth can’t help the giggles now. It feels amazing to be celebrated by his peers, sure, but by Eddie and the band? That’s next level, top tier shit. 

Eddie goes back to reading the article properly, but Gareth catches the frown as he starts to read.

“What?” he says, moving into Eddie’s space.

“Uh… who is Garth?”

“What?”

Eddie points his fingers under the text, not that small admittedly… does it really say…? 

Oh no.

“Where are your fucking glasses?”

“Does it really say Garth?”

“It really says Garth.”

He flops back on the chair. “Oh for fuck sake!”

Eddie doubles over with laughter, traitorous asshole that he is. For Christ’s sake can't he have one nice thing?

“Dude, its fine, the label will reach out and get it fixed for next month.”

He let’s out an exaggerated sigh, practically deflating in Eddie’s kitchen. “I bought thirty copies of this,” he whines.

Eddie shakes his head. “And they say guitarists have big egos."

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

For Eternity. (A Sequel to The Orange.)

You and Jake share an orange. He's never loved you more.

This is a sequel to The Orange, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone <3

Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, a little smooching

Word Count - 2614

Author's Note - hi, me again. I hope you enjoy this part 2 of The Orange. I loved that first fic so much, and whenever I go to write Jake, it seems to occur in that universe, so I thought why not make a sequel just as sweet as the first. as always, requests or thoughts, send them my way. all my love x

Masterlist. Requests.

Jake Seresin has always been an awful dancer. Like, seriously, genuinely, terrible. It was one of the main reasons, it turns out, that you fell in love with him.

Upon first glance, Jake seems perfect. Ken Doll perfect. Cover of Vogue perfect. Carved by the Gods perfect. He’s stunningly handsome, ridiculously charming, and one of the best fighter pilots the US Navy has ever seen. He seems almost too good to be true.

Then you see him dance. And you realise that maybe he isn’t quite as perfect as you first thought. It makes you love him 10 times more.

It hasn’t stopped him, though. The two of you have spent countless nights gliding around your kitchen in your socks, slipping this way and that, jumping to the beat of the 90’s R&B that Jake loves so much. On more than one occasion, he’s twirled you around like a ballerina in a music box, sending you both flying precariously into the counters. Strong arms come up to wrap around your middle, steadying you always. He’ll never let you fall.

You didn’t realise that it was possible to fall more in love with someone every day. You can’t help but ask yourself – when does it end? When will my cup finally be full? When will I reach the limit?

Jake pulls you back every time he can see you floating away.

He holds your hand, looks at you with those aquamarine eyes of his.

He says, “I love you,” but really, he means - love is not a finite resource.

He kisses your forehead, but he’s telling you - your cup can never be full. It’ll just keep spilling over.

His soft lips find yours, and he’s promising – our love will keep expanding forever. It’ll take over the universe and everything will be beautiful.

You’re convinced you must have been a saint in a previous life to be loved like this now. You didn’t know that a human being could love another human being so unconditionally, so completely, until you met Jake.

Sitting at the bar that day, all those years ago, your universe cracked and shifted. Juice from the orange still sticky on your fingers as you dug them into Jake’s cheeks, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Salt on your skin mixing with his as you pressed your foreheads together. Citrus on your lips where Jake had licked into your mouth. It was as if the Gods above had placed the blond man in front of you and said here. Have something good for once.

You knew, from that moment on, that you would never take him for granted. No one gets to love like this. No one gets to be loved like this. It’s rare, and it’s beautiful, and it’s a gift to be unwrapped and savoured every single day. Which exactly what the two of you have done.

The minute Jake had kissed you, sitting on those bar stools, orange peel filling the air with the scent of a promise, the two of you had become inseparable.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After every late night shift at The Hard Deck, Jake would be waiting for you, leaning against the back door with a smirk on his face that said he knew something you didn’t. He’d pull you in to him, press his chest against yours, and inhale, as if it was the first breath he’d taken all day. Then he’d push you up against the side of the bar and kiss you stupid, until you both felt drunker on love than any alcohol could ever manage. He’d pull away and beam at you with that million dollar smile of his, before slipping his hand into yours and walking you the scenic route home, just so he could have an extra 10 minutes in your presence.

This routine was a daily occurrence, until one evening, you decided the fleeting kisses weren’t enough. He walks you home, right up to your front door, and presses his lips to yours in a goodbye. Just as he goes to turn on his heel, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer.

“Don’t go,” you whisper against his mouth. “Need you to love me a little more.”

His eyes blow wide, and for a split second he looks like a deer in headlights. Then, regaining his composure, he finds his confidence again.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Yeah, Jake,” you sigh, still millimetres from his lips. “Want to feel you.”

How can he say no to that, when you’re saying his name so pretty?

He shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. Placing his hand gently on your throat, he murmurs,

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Been waiting my whole life for you.”

He opens the front door behind you and walks you backwards into your house. You don’t make it more than 3 steps inside before he has your shirt over your head, kicking his shoes off at the same time.

“Don’t know how I lived without this. Can’t get enough,” he tells you. He’s looking at you so intently, you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears. The love you have for each other is filling the room, making it hard to breathe. It surrounds you, fills your lungs, makes you feel like you’re both floating. He pulls you back to his lips as if you’re his oxygen, his life source, his sanity.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “I want to tell you that I love you, but it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Enough?” you question.

“Love isn’t a big enough word. It doesn’t even begin to describe whatever it is I’m feeling. I’m going crazy with it, sweetheart. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t want to.”

You exhale. It’s as if he’s read your mind.

“Love will have to do,” you tell him. “It’s the only word we have for now.”

He’s kissing you again, hands tangled in your hair, body pressing into yours. You’re vaguely aware that you’re both swaying, too in love to stand still. It’s thrumming though your veins, keeping you levitating above ground.

“It’s everything,” he says when he pulls back for air. “You’re everything.”

You figured that eventually, the electricity in your bones would calm down. That in time, the love would level out, and wouldn’t feel so all consuming.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been two years, and as you sit on the third floor balcony watching Jake dance with his nieces below you, you’re worried that you might spontaneously combust. The love has only got stronger with each passing day, lighting your world and guiding you through. Your body is alive with it – it’s like you’re invincible. Jake’s love is a shield, protecting you, like a forcefield.

He still can’t dance, though.

He’s picking up the youngest girl, Hailey, and spinning her around, throwing her up into the air as she squeals with delight. Of course, he then turns to Ava, and does the same to her, both of them revelling in being the centre of their Uncle Jake’s attention. He has that ability. When Jake’s focus is solely on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

That first day that Jake walked into The Hard Deck, he strolled over to the bar with the confidence of 10 men and ordered a beer from you. He gazed into your soul with those ocean blue eyes, and you could have sworn the rest of the room faded away. You’re still not sure if you were looking at each other for 5 seconds or 5 minutes. All you knew was that no one had ever been able to see you so transparently before. It was as if he was reading you like a book, with no judgment whatsoever. He saw you exactly as you were. And he loved you for it.

You’ve confessed to him the worst parts of yourself, your secrets, your desires, your worries, your shame, your hopes, your dreams – everything. And he listens. He watches you with those careful eyes, nods his head, asks all the right questions. He listens like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than talking to you. The rarity isn’t lost on you. This never happens to girls like you, you think. But that’s where you’re wrong. Because Jake Seresin loves you so much that sometimes it sweeps him off his feet. Sometimes, he has to hold onto something and steady himself because the force of his feelings for you sends him into a tailspin. The adrenaline of flying a plane is one thing, but that warmth he gets in his chest when you beam a smile at him is a complete other. No jet manoeuvre could ever give him the headrush that you do when you wink at him across a crowded room. Yes, Jake Seresin used to be a notorious ladies man – a player, a heartbreaker, a sneak out of bed before breakfast kind of guy.

But that’s because he was waiting for you. His whole life, he’s been waiting for you.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re so lost in your thoughts that it takes you a moment to come back to reality. When you do, you look down and realise that Jake is no longer on the dance floor. Hailey and Ava are back with their parents, the four of them dancing and spinning to the beat, laughing as they go. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the cheeky grins – it almost feels like a vision of the future. Jake looks just like his sister, and her daughters look just like her. You know the Seresin genes are strong – yours wouldn’t stand a chance.

The evening is beginning to settle. The sun is setting, and a slight breeze blows the trees. Everyone is still dancing, singing and laughing, and the sound of it floats upwards towards where you’re sat smiling through the balcony railings. You wish you had a camera – but you also know no photograph could ever capture the joy that radiates around this beautiful setting. The lights on the barn twinkle as the dusk creeps in, illuminating the faces of the people you love the most. Bradley, Natasha and Bob are dancing, if you can call it that, while Javy, Reuben and Mickey are stood a short distance away, smiling at them like idiots. If you could freeze time, you would. You’re not sure any moment will ever be as perfect as this one.

You feel his presence before you hear him. Warmth appears in the doorway behind you, and you know without looking that it’s Jake. You can smell the familiar scent of salt, sunshine, and sandalwood. The smell of home.

“Hi, Mrs Seresin.”

He hasn’t come into your eyeline yet, but you can hear the grin on his face. He can’t see it, but you’re wearing a matching one.

“Hi, husband.”

He steps onto the balcony, and wraps his strong arms around your middle, pressing his nose into the junction of your shoulder and inhaling.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you calling me that.”

He scatters kisses along your shoulder, up your neck, and onto your cheek, chuckling as he feels you giggle against him. He turns you in his arms so you’re facing each other.

“Got worried for a sec. Thought maybe you’d bolted.”

He nudges his nose against yours, megawatt smile still plastered on his face.

“After I’d married you? What would be the point in that? If I was gonna run, I’d have done it before we said I do.”

He pinches your sides lightly, making you yelp, both of you laughing. The sound of it echoes through the air, the soundtrack to your evening.

“You okay?” he asks genuinely, eyes scanning over your face. The softness of it makes you want to melt.

“Of course I am. Just wanted to take a minute. Savour the moment, you know.”

He nods back at you, and presses his lips to yours. No matter how many times you kiss Jake, you can never get enough. You’re always begging each other for just one more. You’d stay here with your mouth on his forever if you could. You can only hope that when your time comes, you take your last breath with your lips pressed to his – a last image of your love.

“I brought you a gift,” he says when he pulls away.

He retreats into the room, and comes back with an orange in his hand. A bright, beautiful, bold ball of light in his palm. A promise.

A tear escapes your eye at the gesture. Oranges became something sacred to the both of you after that first one you shared on the bar of The Hard Deck. Neither of you can eat them in everyday life anymore. They’re solely reserved for special occasions, momentous moments.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When Jake proposed to you in the dim light of your kitchen on a random Friday evening, you knew your answer immediately. You’d been dancing around, swaying in each other’s arms, when all of a sudden, he stopped moving and looked you dead in the eyes.

“Marry me,” he said with so much assurance it made you dizzy. Like he’d never been surer of anything.

“You are the love of my goddamn life, honey. I always thought soulmates were a thing of fiction, and then I walked into The Hard Deck that night and I just knew. You started peeling that orange that day and I just knew. I am going to love you for eternity – there’s no doubt about that. So, marry me. Marry me, baby.”

You jumped into his arms and kissed him so hard that the both of you fell to the floor, laughing on the cold kitchen tiles.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” you replied between kisses.

He beamed at you with a grin so bright you were worried the lightbulbs were going to shatter. You were sure yours was just as sparkling.

Jake rose from his place on the ground, reaching up for something on the counter. A part of you wonders if it’s a ring, but then he produces something better. An orange. The brightest, ripest, most promising piece of fruit you’ve ever seen.

You split it while sitting on the kitchen tiles, drunk off each other, leaning into Jake’s side like you can’t get close enough. You’re convinced it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Now, Jake starts to peel the orange, before pausing and shrugging off his suit jacket. God, he looks so handsome in his tuxedo. You think he looks beautiful no matter what he wears, but there’s something about that man in a suit that makes your knees want to give out.

He places the jacket over your lap.

“Don’t want you getting orange juice on that pretty white dress,” he smiles, resuming his place next you.

He peels the fruit and splits it in half with practised precision. Almost like he’s done this before.

You eat your halves in silence. No words are needed. You love Jake, and Jake loves you, and today all of the people you both love most in the world got to watch you declare that to each other. And now here you are, sharing an orange with the man you’re going to share oranges with for eternity.

Jake Seresin is in love with you. Nothing else matters.

[striveattemptfail]

chaos, we so catostrophic | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.1k, PG-13

@poolvertober: Day 17 – Cozy

Summary: Takes place immediately after Wade introduces Logan and Mary Puppins to Al. This is 100% dialogue and is more gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) TW: Rated for canon-typical violence, gun use, mentions of drugs/alcohol, language, and death of a nameless rat. Read on Ao3

A/N: I'm taking today's prompt real fast and loose here so please forgive me lmao. Title from Chk Chk Boom by Stray Kids because I'm still offended it wasn't included in the OST, smh 😑 Shout out to the wonderful Zay @comatose--overdose for the beta, idea throwing, and putting up with my ass (ಥ‿ಥ) All other mistakes are mine.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

“It’s like an armadillo fucked a gremlin, angrily, and in a bed of gonorrhoea—”

“Wow.”

“—and didn’t stop ‘til the sun came up!”

“Whatever it is, I ain’t taking care of it.”

“Don’t worry about that. Besides, we should talk about how Logan is here to live with us!”

“No, I’m not...?”

“How the fuck are we supposed to keep a mangy dog and another whole-ass human being alive in this shithole apartment, Wade?”

“Gasp! How dare you call her mangy? She’s a princess and deserves to be treated like royalty!”

“And you want her to live in this cocaine-less den?”

“Did you just say ‘gasp’ out loud, bub?”

“The movie’s almost over, so I can probably hook you up with Doug’s forbidden baking powder soon. I’ll figure it out!”

“What about the entire man—”

“Ooh, that he is.”

“—that you intend to house in this one-bed, one-bath?”

“I’ll only be here until I can get on my feet, ma’am.”

“Nope, you’re staying here until you’re 90! Also, ‘ma’am’? Logan, I’m pretty sure you’re twice her age.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh yeah, Logan’s the Wolverine and he’s, like, stupid old.”

“Fuck you.”

“...I thought Wolverine died?”

“This is a new one.”

“How the fuck did you get a fucking new one?”

“I’ll give you the abridged version of the movie later, after everybody settles in.”

“Wade! For fuck’s sake, I can hear you leaving—don’t you dare walk away from me!”

“Don’t you dare walk away from meeeee!”

“Singing Whitney doesn’t answer my question about how the hell we’re fitting three people and a dog in here!”

“We’ve got a pull-out—haha, pull out—in the living room and an XL twin in the bedroom.”

“My bedroom, Wade!”

“Bub, are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Hey, if the fanfics can make it work, then we’ll make it work!”

“I cannot believe this shit. This dumbass never listens to me.”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ. Althea?”

“Yes, Logan?”

“Ya got any booze around?”

“I think there’s beer in the fridge.”

“Booze? Already? It’s not even—Al, what time is it?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Right, blind, can’t see the time.”

“If that wall clock’s right, it’s 3:14, bub.”

“It’s not even 4pm and you’re already drinking?!”

“If I have to put up with your hairless-brained bullshit, yes, I am.”

“I’d be more offended at that joke but I’m honestly impressed, pookie.”

“Seriously? For calling you bald?”

“His standards are in hell used as Satan’s spreader bar where he should’ve gone instead of rooming with me.”

“Hey!”

“Pfft!”

“Unbelievable, I can’t believe—oh, no! No no no no, Lady Leprosy With Legs, don’t nap in that! That’s where Daddy keeps his knives.”

“That’s what I’m trying to talk about, Wade! Where the hell is everyone supposed to sleep?”

“You and I can bunk together like we used to, Al. Logan can take the pull-out.”

“Oh, friggin’ hell—no. You and I will share that damn couch and Althea can keep her bed.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet, sugar tits!”

“Now, what about the dog?”

“She’ll get a dog bed, duh.”

“What? D’ya just have a dog bed lying around somewhere?”

“I do, actually! But where did I put that thing?”

“Are you serious?”

“Convenient, huh! I found it in Al’s shit when we moved in together and decided to keep it. I’m guessing the author got too lazy trying to figure out a better way to include it in this fic.”

“...He just says shit sometimes. Don’t mind him, Logan.”

“I’m well aware. You’re a weirdo, bub.”

“Thank you! I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, if I remember right—SHIT!!!”

“What?!”

“The fuck’s happening?!”

“Ah, shit, fuck! There’s a rat!”

“A RAT?!”

“Althea, where did you get that gun—put it down!”

“POINT ME TO THE FUCKING RAT!”

“Al, put the fucking gun down!”

“GET RID OF THE RAT FIRST!”

“Arf!”

“Mary, don’t touch that thing!”

“Fuckin’ hell, bub, grab Mary while I—”

BANG!

“AL, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE—”

“Arf-arf! Rrrrruff!”

“WADE, GRAB THE GODDAMN DOG!”

“NO, GET THE FUCKING RAT FIRST!”

“Mary—!”

BANG!

“AH!!!”

“Althea!”

“Jack Kirby’s giant ballsack!”

“Did I get it?!”

“Fuck no! You hit me, you empty-eyed, shit-for-aim walking corpse!”

“Rrrrrrafff!”

“Logan, keep her from shooting this way!”

“Just let me aim for the fucking rat!”

“Althea, please just hand me—”

“Get your goddamn hands off my glock!”

“Then stop shooting!”

“Mary, wait—!”

BANG!

“Rrrrrragghhh!”

“Ho. ly. shit.”

“What the fuck happened? Did I get it? Is it dead?!”

“You’re such a good girl, yes, you are!”

“He better not be talking to me, I swear to god.”

“Little miss angel face here just caught our uninvited guest!”

“Grrrrrr.”

“Wade, get that thing out of her mouth before it catches rabies from her.”

“Wow, rude, she doesn’t have rabies! Also, I’m pretty sure it’s already dead. She’s got no teeth but a hell of a bite, don’t you, my lovely bundle of herpes and joy?”

“Just get the fucking thing out of here!”

“Ugh, fine, jeez louise—come here, girl. You did such a good job, yes you did! Thank you for killing that thing! Now, let’s go toss it out.”

“The dog caught the rat?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Well...I guess it can stay then.”

“Really? The dog’s already in your good graces?”

“You’re the one who tried grabbing my gun.”

“Because you were shooting everywhere!”

“And now you’re arguing with me!”

“...My apologies, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

“Just keep your word and it’s alright.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alrighty! Time to go look for that bed again.”

“Anybody want a beer?”

“Can you grab me one, Logan?”

“You already finished that whole can?!”

“‘Course I did. All that shit gave me headache.”

“Welcome to a day in the life of Deadpool and Blind Al, peanut!”

“I did this to myself. I chose to come here. How the fuck did that happen?”

“I wonder the same damn thing all the time.”

“Your beer.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“I can’t believe it’s been less than five minutes and both of you are already ganging up on me!”

“S’not hard to.”

“My Wolvie is so mean! Aha, here it is! I knew I still had the old thing. Here you go, my fearless guard dog.”

“It was a rat, not an intruder, Wade.”

“She protected the house and killed that pest. She’s practically a guardian angel!”

“Eh, good enough for me.”

“See, Al gets it!”

“I still ain’t looking after that thing.”

“That’s fine. Logan and I will!”

“I did not sign up for that.”

“You did when you agreed to crash with me!”

“Is he always like this, Althea?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Make yourself cozy, Logan, because it only gets better from here!”

“God help me.”

“God help us all.”

“Arf!”

[sheenashifts1217]

Pick A Pile #3

9/19/24

Message From Your DR Self

Take a breath and pick the image you’re drawn to first. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. This is a collective reading so some may resonate with this more than others. For a personal reading, check my pined post <3

Pile 1: Beach heart, Pile 2: Lightning Heart, Pile 3: Cloud Heart

Pile 1

Lyrics standing out:

“They say that we’re no good together and it’s never gonna work out

Everything you do is magic

Let em take pictures

Spread it all across the world now

I don’t know what to believe

Everything you do is magic”

Hi beautiful angels of Pile 1. Your DR self wants you to trust yourself more. You are your DR self. Your DR self is your CR self. Are you stressed about shifting? Don’t be because you’ve already shifted. Your DR self is telling you to take shifting and your DR off of such a high pedestal. There is nothing holding you back from your desires except for yourself. Get out of your own way. This I your sign to embrace all that you are and to on your power. You don’t need some outside cosmic force to make you shift. YOU ARE A COSMIC FORCE. Allow your reality to flow, it doesn’t have to be follow any rules. Magic is normal, normalize it to yourself because “everything you do is magic”. Every choice you make is shifting your reality, it’s that simple.

Your DR may include a lot of magic ad your DR self wants you to know that your s/o loves you like breathing.

Signs of confirmation, but not limited to: 444, blue bird, green leaf, dew drop, glass of water, blue, Billie Eillish, older women, dance

Pile 2

Lyrics standing out:

“Haven’t seen my mother in a long, long time

Do you really think I give a damn

I say I live in Rosemead, really, I’m at the Ramada

So many other things you can’t believe

Puts the shower on while he calls me

Your mom called, I told her you’re fucking up big time”

Hi beauties, Pile 2! Your DR self is telling you that you are having the time of your life. You may be a person who shifts pretty frequently, but to different DRs, or you may have a lot of DRs, but struggle to focus on one. Your ability to go with the flow is rewarding you greatly. If you’re shifting for an s/o, your relationship couldn’t be better. Marriage is in the near future for a few of you. Basically, your DR self is saying to sit back and enjoy the ride. Everything is going your way because you’re allowing it. Keep doing whatever you’re doing because it’s working. You’re on a path of healing and your inner child is shining. You are finally learning to give up on the thought of needing external validation and people pleasing. Keep it up because your hard work is paying off!

Signs of confirmation, but not limited to: “J”, red, crayon, curve, back road, country, serve, slay, boots, 24, 2, Taylor Swift, Willow, 90’s

Pile 3

Lyrics standing out:

“Now he’s just a shadow

My boy loves his friends like I love my split ends

My boy don’t love me like he promised

He ain’t a man, he sure as hell ain’t honest

Who are you?

He said he’d change

You want me to be yours, then you’ve got to be mine”

Hello lovely Pile 3! Why are you still doing things and allowing things in your life that don’t serve you? I know that was harsh right off the bat, but seriously, why? You know what you need and you know what hurts you. You’ve become comfortable in your cycle instead of actually speaking growth. Your DR self is telling you to stand the fuck up because you could be doing literally anything else, yet you’re self destructing. A lot of you began shifting to heal your inner child, but you began to use it to sulk and self destruct. Your DR self is you RN. You are in your CR because it is where you are desiring to be. Change your mindset to be in your “DR”, because right now, you’re making your CR be you DR by choosing to remain in the loop and keeping the same mentality. You always say you’re gonna change but don’t follow through. Actually do it, you won’t regret it. Your DR self says that things are great in your DR right now and they’re tired of you complaining about not being there when you’re not even actually intending to be there. A lot of things will lighten up once you face your shadow self and actually take that leap of faith.

Signs of confirmation, but not limited to: purple, cream, sparkles, glitter, candy, green, jeans, eagles, pen, fun, 888, 9, 23, trees, flowers

[ode2cheol]

take you by the hand

2.8k words, princess!reader, knight!dk, reader is soonyoung’s brother, established (secret) relationship, fluff, humour (idk man i tried being funny idk if anyone will find it funny)

“oh yn, he’s here” soonyoung told you, the ‘he’ in question being the newest commander of the royal knights, lee seokmin, or dokyeom, as he was known as in the palace. when your brother had initially told you of his arrival, you tried your best to put on an annoyed look. he couldn't know about how his small visits were secretly your favourite part of the day.

“dokyeom, is there something we could help you with?” the question was pointless, you knew exactly what he was here for, his casual attire clearly showing he had plans of relaxing with you tonight. still though, you were curiously at how he would try to cover this up.

“oh uh nothing at all princess, sorry to disturb you and your brother, but if you could please come with me? I believe the caterers had said they wanted to discuss something for the upcoming charity event” as much as he tried hiding his shock at your brother being here too, you could see right through him. and how could you possibly pass up on an opportunity to tease him?

“i see, thank you for letting me know dokyeom. i’ll be right over, have a nice rest of your knight” the corners of your lips curving up.

you could see him trying to veil his panic again, “oh well princess i could escort you over?”, he met your gaze, ‘what’re you doing?’ was what his eyes were saying.

“oh no i wouldn’t want to take up more of your time-”

“i insist” he flashed you a tight smile that had you holding back your own giggles.

“well since you make such a compelling argument i suppose you could escort me over. goodnight soonyoung!” you called out to your brother, waving her goodbye before you let dokyeom take the lead.

“yn, i can’t believe you” dokyeom whined after a few minutes of walking after ensuring you were somewhere neither of you would be heard.

“what are you talking about dokyeom?” you teased him further, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“why do you keep calling me dokyeom? what happened to seokmim?” he whined further, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

“aren’t you the commander of the knights? last i was aware his name was dokyeom..” you trailed off slowly bringing your face closer to peck at his soft lips.

“you know i like it when you call me seokmin, princess”

“i thought i was sweetheart? clearly we both can’t get what we want” you sighed jokingly.

“you don’t deserve it. not after you put me in that little situation back there. you’re lucky i’m quick at thinking or else i would’ve ended up telling your brother my plans to marry you-“

“marry? is that so? you’ll have to seek my brother’s approval first just so you know” you teased him again, grinning from ear to ear at his words.

he nodded, returning your smile while moving to kiss you again, hands encircled over your waist.

“speaking of my love, just when will we be able to tell your parents? we’ve been sneaking around for a few months and— of course not that i wouldn’t endure some inconvenience for you it’s just-“

“i know seokmin i know, it’s just you know soonyoung’s always had impossible standards for suitor’s to meet”

you did feel incredibly guilty for it. you’d told seokmin about the situation before- well warned him more like. you’d told him about how a relationship with you could prove miserable for him considering he’d have to spend 90% of the time hiding any affection toward you.

“yn, sometimes you have to put your own needs aside for love, and that’s what i’m doing for you” he placed a hand on your shoulder, staring at you seriously.

“did you steal that line from someone else?” you tried to hold back your laugh.

“maybe”

“yn, come sit with us” your father had told you, you couldn’t tell what he was feeling. he always had a neutral expression, never give away too much, suppose that’s what it’s supposed to be like when you’re king.

“father?” you asked him quietly, sitting beside your brother soonyoung.

“yn, i’m sure you’re aware that prince mingyu is getting married soon”, smiling, you nodded as you remembered seokmin telling you his excitement at the fact that his childhood friend would be the one marrying him, “good, well then you must also know he’s the same age as you” oh you could tell where this was headed, shooting your father a sour look. “oh don’t give me that. at least try meeting them before you outright refuse”

“father, i don’t have plans of marrying one of your suitors, i apologise” you furrowed your brows.

“i agree with yn, father. she’s too young to get married anytime soon anyway” soonyoung yawned.

“i’m only a year younger than you—“

“in that case soonyoung, you get married”

“hang on this wasn’t about me—“

all three of your heads moved to the sound of the door slamming open, an out of breath seokmin being at the center of it.

he bowed quickly before speaking, “forgive me for interrupting your majesties, however prince wonwoo had requested prince soonyoung urgently”

you could see how seokmin was having an internal conflict on whether or not to make eye contact and smile at you. when he finally did you shot him a week before he let out a sputtered cough.

“are you okay?” soonyoung asked him, tone slightly wary.

“oh yes i’m fine, come with me your majesty” he breathed, turning on his heel quickly and marching away with your brother.

after walking for a few minutes, seokmin could see the slight frown on soonyoung’s face. there’s no way he knows, right?

“uh your majesty is something bothering you?” he smiled, not letting his nerves show.

“huh? well now that you mention it yeah” seokmin physically felt all the energy drain out of him. he was done. he was done and he was going to spend the rest of his life in a dungeon and be let out to only see you marry someone else while he's miserable for the rest of-

“father keeps bothering us, i don’t know why he’s so hell bent on one of us marrying soon,”

and just like that seokmin had life again. all was well and the world was beautiful. “especially yn. she’s way too young to be getting married”

never mind. the world was cruel and seokmin hated every last person on it, except for you of course.

“i don’t trust anyone that father finds for her” oh this was seokmin’s chance. he just needed to be someone your brother trusted and soonyoung himself would pair the two of you up. soonyoung can find out about the 8 months of a secret relationship after you and seokmin had your second child.

“well uh,” seokmin cleared his throat, “if you don’t trust your father with this, why not leave it to yourself? at least then you’ll be sure you trust them”

soonyoung stopped in his tracks making seokmin to almost pass out from nervousness. “hmm, that’s actually not a bad idea. but who?”

“well if i were to personally suggest someone, i’d say someone tall, dark hair, name begins with an ‘s’-“

“that’s perfect!” soonyoung shouted happily, patting hitting seokmin’s back, “you’re a genius, dokyeom!”

“thank you! so when can i-“

“call seungcheol? don’t worry i’ll let him know myself, he’s going to be my future brother in law after all!”

oh yeah, seokmin’s done.

“yn! yn where are you?” soonyoung called out, head peering around the room in search of you.

“what is it?” you smiled at him, setting your necklace aside.

“this is seungcheol” he moved aside to make room for his friend, “seungcheol this is yn”

“yeah we’ve met before” seungcheol groaned before turning to you and smiling, “sorry, hi yn it’s been a while”

you returned his smile and waved at him, it had been a long time since you’ve properly talked with seungcheol, the most interactions with him being at different events and ending at a simple ‘hello’.

“well i’ll leave you both to it, bye guys!” and like that your brother was gone.

you and seungcheol spent a few minutes catching up before you were hit with deja vu of the door flying open, seokmin being the culprit again.

“sorry. someone’s looking for you” he said, he was sulking but tried his best to sound threatening to seungcheol. and you honestly felt bad for seokmin considering said man he was scaring was in fact doing his best not to burst out laughing.

“what for?” seungcheol chuckled.

“uh.. look i don’t know they just said to come get you” seokmin couldn’t even hide his pout now and seungcheol couldn’t hide his laugh either, doubling over in laughter and making seokmin sulk even more.

“look man, i’m not trying to steal your girlfriend from you. i already told soonyoung to not expect anything from this, besides yn’s like a little sister to me anyway”

“w- who said she was my girlfriend? haha ha” seokmin chuckled nervously, frowning again when he heard both you and seungcheol laughing at him.

“seokmin he’s not stupid” you giggled, pecking his cheek.

“well in that case.. help us out would’ya?”

for as long as you could remember, soonyoung took care of you. your parents were always busy and neither of you could blame them- after all it was either rule over a kingdom or spend a little less time with your kids- you really couldn’t blame them.

that didn’t stop you from hating the situation though. anyone and everyone was able to work that out- and just like you couldn’t blame your parents, they couldn’t blame you.

because of this, soonyoung was always there for you. whenever you’d made a new friend soonyoung was the first person you ran to tell, when you learnt a new fact you’d be running to soonyoung’s door to tell him. you were all each other had when you were kids, and soonyoung would never let you be hurt by anything or anyone.

this carried on until now, even when both of you are adults and you’re able to take care of yourself, soonyoung would rather die than see you upset. so if it means he’d banish any man that doesn’t meet his standards for you that comes within two feet distance to you then so be it.

unfortunately for you that meant any chance of meeting someone was near impossible considering your brother scared anyone that looked at you for more than a minute away.

luckily, seokmin never let your brother get in his way of pursuing you. he’d spent months secretly courting you, showering you with confessions everyday, and even after you had told him you reciprocated your feelings he never backed down after you’d told him about your brother’s standards. he met the challenge head on and has been working hard for months- so much so that he ended up being promoted to commander of the knights.

to you, seokmin was perfect. he was gentle, loving, always knew how to bring a smile to your face, but he was also hard working and passionate. so if he couldn’t get soonyoung’s approval then you’d have to come to terms with the fact that your brother wants you to die alone.

“you’re sure about this?” seokmin whispered, his forehead resting against yours. it’d been weeks of consideration. you were sure seokmin was perfect in your eyes but if your brother would care about that was a different story.

“yeah.. i’m sure” you smiled up at him, eyes closing as you leaned back onto him for comfort. if you couldn’t get your brother to agree what was going to happen? would this be the last time you get to see seokmin?

“hey, don’t be so nervous pretty. no matter how protective he is, it’s because he cares about you, he wants you to be happy. if you’re happy with me then he’ll be happy for you” his fingers rested around your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly so he could look you in the eyes.

his gaze flickered to your lips before trailing back up to your eyes, almost asking for permission even after all this time together.

you closed the space between the two of you, smiling into the kiss with him as he sighed. being with you was always lifted a weight off his shoulders.

that weight came back in a second though after you both heard the door slam open. why can’t people open doors normally? why is everyone always slamming them open?

“your majesty!” you saw seokmin bow to, oh no, soonyoung, the expression on his face unreadable.

“dokyeom.. yn.. what are you guys doing? together..” he said, trailing off.

“i don’t want to lie to you. i love your sister, i have for a while now actually. and whether i get your approval or not, that’s not going to change” seokmin stood firmly against soonyoung.

you can’t lie, you were worried. what would happen to his position in the knights? yes you wouldn’t be harmed in this but what were the chances seokmin came out unscathed?

“yn” it was the first fine you’d ever heard your brother talk to you so seriously. hesitantly, you met his gaze.

“he’s right. we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. soonyoung, he makes me so happy, please-“ you pleaded with him, staying close to seokmin.

“this is great! i mean- don’t get me wrong i’m not happy you both have been practically lying to me for months- but i couldn’t be happier about this!”

“you what?” you stood in disbelief.

“i know dokyeom’s a good guy- who d’ya think made him commander of the knights anyway? only reason i didn’t try setting the both of you up was because i assumed dokyeom already had someone with how he’s been sneaking around”

you couldn’t believe this. months of paranoia just for your brother to be a little too happy about this.

“i now realise the person he’s been sneaking around with is you, this is great! yn, as long as your happy, i would’ve been happy, you’re smart enough to find a good guy for yourself”

“so i have permission to marry your sister?” seokmin chippered, no longer afraid of showing his love as he pulled you into his side.

“well, technically, you still need father’s permission but you’ve got my support”

“good enough for me!”

“yn, he’s here again” soonyoung groaned, clearly already sick of seokmin’s public displays of affection toward you.

you laughed at the disgusted expression on your brother’s face before bidding him goodbye to meet your lover.

“princess” seokmin smiled at you, “you look beautiful” he planted a kiss to your hand, eyes lingering on it for a few extra seconds before intertwining his fingers with yours.

“thank you, min. you look so handsome yourself” you mirrored his smile, squeezing his hand gently.

with your free hand, you played with the small pendant of your necklace while you let seokmin lead you to the spot he was so insistent on taking you to. when you’d arrived, you realised he’d taken you to a beautiful park, the sunlight hitting the grass beneath your feet perfectly and there was cool shade provided by the tree that seokmin set a blanket at.

“darling? why do you look so nervous?” you finally ask after finishing everything your lover prepared. at first you just thought he was nervous you wouldn’t like what he’d prepared, but after you’d spent the entire time singing praises about it that couldn’t be the case.

“nervous? who’s nervous?” okay so he was nervous.

you sighed, whatever it was he’d tell you sooner or later. you moved to pack the leftovers away in the basket, seokmin’s hand coming to stop you when you’d tried to open the basket. “is there a problem?”

“no problem it’s just.. i couldn’t possibly ask a princess to do all this. allow me to take care of it”

you smiled, huffing out “min, it’s fine. that’s no reason for me to not be able to help you” you rolled your eyes.

“in that case.. i just don’t want my wife to have to lift a finger around me”

you shot him a confused look, staring at him for a few seconds before he pulled something out of the basket. it was a small velvet box, and from there you’d started to piece it altogether, letting out a gasp when he presented the contents of the box to you.

“well, princess? will you marry me?”

“yes! i love you so much min” you kissed him, both of you giggling throughout it all.

[puckpocketed]

inspired by yesterday’s ovechkin-posting and the stick story, because. i had as much fun as anyone with the idea that riding a camel over all-star break is what jostled the goal-scoring back out of him, but at the same time... i am frothing at the fucking mouth about ovi × The League × national hockey media. where is his respect? where is his hype? where are his roses???? please !!!! understand !!!! that i find sidney endearing as a guy and he is undeniably incredible as a player and he deserves the love that he gets. but from day one, ovi has only existed to them in relation to sid and that makes me lose my fucking mind. 

and general hockey fans through the years loved ovi, and then they hated him, and then they said he was an overhyped washed-up old man who doesn't care anymore (starting in like 2013 lmfao). like, I'M sorry, back in the late '00s and early '10s he was being hounded for days about his cellies, and being booed every time he came out on the ice—and you're mad? that he looks like he's lost his love and enthusiasm for the game???? (i cannot for the LIFE of me find the podcast ep where i heard this, so. grain of salt. but a former teammate talked about how startling and upsetting ovi found the booing, bc it was such a sudden change, and meanwhile, ovi was just the same guy he’d always been 😭).

and then, idk, we went through hate again, and then indifference, and now in the 2020s we're back to "oh, his production has dropped so therefore he's overhyped, can’t wait ‘til he’s gone"?? the season ovi was 36 he had more points per game than sid did last year at 36 (90 in 77 vs 94 in 82). or how about. please remind me how many goals gretz scored the season he was 36 (25 goals compared to ovi's 50). or what about when gretz was 38 (9 goals compared to ovi's 31)? i am NOT trying to say that ovi is "better" than either of them—this is just me saying that people are completely irrational about him. like back when he was drafted and people were saying "oh, he's not actually as good as he looks, because he's lying about his age" bc he looked 25 instead of 18. like. okay lmao. and then what? his NINE rocket richards count less bc he started later? he's actually older now and scoring more per game than gordie howe was the first time he retired? like what are we doing here??? i'm not an empty-netters-pod guy, but they talked about it in the first few minutes of this ep; like... yeah, why was everyone so fucking excited to dance on his grave at the start of last season? and then again in the playoffs? he’s NOT DONE YET, and even if he were, i would hope to see a modicum of respect for the player he’s been and the career he’s had! 

the point is. ovi has scored 30+ goals per season every single year since his debut except the pandemic-shortened season. his teammates, current and former, love him and say what an awesome, generous, team-focused guy he is. he has literally dozens of nhl records already, some of them previously belonging to gretzky. and yet! general hockey fans and the league and national hockey media all refuse to take him seriously. and caps fans (mostly) and dc hockey media (mostly) (barry svrlugas i do not forgive you... dan holmi i would just like to have a fucking word with you....) are all just standing here like hello? alexander ovechkin is RIGHT HERE and he is very good at hockey. hello he is GOOD at HOCKEY, can you hear me????? is anyone seeing this, HELLO???? 

i don’t get it. i simply and entirely don’t get it. there are so many excellent players on teams that i hate! there are players i dislike and i can still point to many impressive things about their game!!! WHAT is the mental block that happens for everyone when it comes to ovi, and how tf has it been going strong for nineteen fucking years? 

thank you for listening!! i swear to you that the vast majority of the time i am simply having a fun time with whatever my terrible children decide to do, admiring ovi’s fashion choices, cheering on my number one babygirl dylan strome, and enjoying whatever horny, incomprehensible nonsense they get up to. it’s just that sometimes i gotta go guard dog mode about alex ovechkin ���

Hello!!! First of all, thanks for going to all the trouble of typing all that out and including links. I have loved sifting through your citations, and felt very much like a floor dwelling sea creature eating nutrients from the silt <3

I believe you all when you say Ovechkin's not done yet. Shaking my entire clenched fin at everyone calling him a washed up old man!! Fascinated by the Caps' attempt to pivot into being competitive long enough for him to break the record, because what of the After? The Rebuild of Damocles beckons!! Except, having paid some attention to prospects I see they've got a pretty interesting crop of talent coming through. And there are those big contracts they just acquired (hello Dubie and Roy). I just feel like have to be on this train so I can say I was there to see how it all shakes out. History Witnessing type beat <3

and I'm SO endeared to Caps rituals. What little I've seen of them is so fun, so silly. Exactly my vibe. MUST a team "Play Hockey Well"?? can't they just be obsessed with each other . can't they torture and embarrass each other . being stressed about strange concepts such as ""Winning"" is so., passé .

Thank you again for dropping by and for the essay! and I'm sorry it took so long to get back to you, it was such a meal I was digesting it for days :>

extended thoughts/discussion under the cut.

From the outside looking in, I think can speak to how compelling it is to pit Crosby and Ovechkin against each other. As your ESPN article puts it: "Crosby was careful, corporate. Ovechkin was unpredictable, borderline dangerous. The key word was passion, and even though Crosby had it inside, Ovechkin oozed it. He was the anti-Sid, possibly the better player, and soon a cult hero." (x, y) I know you're frustrated by this, but they do sort of exist in relation to each other. Maybe I've fallen for the propaganda, but it's very literary <3 You could write their story down and present it to a novel studies class, and the easiest thread to pull on would be all the ways in which they're each other's narrative foils.

IF you held a gun to my head and made me guess at the 'why' of it, I'd probably agree with Eric Adelson! It really does feel like Crosby's image is who hockey wants to be seen as. A Good Canadian Boy; humble, no conspicuous expressions of his wealth, no partying, and of course no on-ice flash! I think I can understand the backlash somewhat; in such a team-oriented game, one with all these arcane honour codes and the emphasis on humility and respect and not rocking the boat, I could see why the spectacle of Ovechkin's personality would've grated. Crosby's an easier pill to swallow for the conservatism of hockey culture. (And I specified 'image' because there's the reality of what it is to be famous, deified, and torn apart each time you don't quite measure up. I hate to be the guy who says there's another side to this but, like, I'm sure plenty of people who are more familiar with Crosby's story could come out and tell me about the unique challenges that come with being considered The Next One.)

And obviously, your specific frustration is coming from the fact that Ovechkin is, somehow, seen as the inferior superstar, and that his achievements - which either equal or surpass Crosby's - go uncelebrated by mainstream media. and ough. man. I'm not as invested in this as you given I just got here, but your emotion is palpable!! I have... complicated feelings about his whole deal wrt geopolitics I won't lie, but I am serious about the whole "Is it the Russian thing?" I wouldn't, like, submit this as a legal document or anything, and I doubt I'd be the first to point it out, but there has to be a level of Othering that comes from his nationality, right?

So there's my thesis: he's not like them, he's not from there, and his image is not who they want for a star. Being so undeniably good for so long probably bought him some time in their good books, but the moment he looked a little bit mortal any grace they had to give was dispensed with. It sucks for you as a fan of course </3 I don't mean to sound so morbidly curious about it all,,, like i get that a real wrong was done to Ovechkin by the establishment that refused to recognise him!! But . well. I'm looking at this through a nonfiction writer's lens. I do hope someone who was there for the whole thing writes a book or two about this, because it would make for a really interesting story. I get the feeling people will look back on this stretch of time and think the world went a bit crazy for believing Alex Ovechkin was done.

[where-dreamers-go]

"Things Happen" Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: Happy birthday to me. 90s Robin all happy!

Reader is a fan of Robin and has been having bad luck all day. What else could happen on their birthday?!

Also: Happy birthday @ivorydragoness44

Warnings: A little angst. Use of (Y/N). I did not take this seriously; I snickered writing the ending.

Word Count: 1,086 words)

~~~

Gotham City stood proudly with skyscrapers, large statues, and bright lights.

Yeah, you would rather be inside at this time of night.

But you were determined. On a mission to finish the day on a high note. At least a little more positive anyway. It was your birthday after all.

Just get home. That’s all, you thought as you walked along the sidewalk. Gripping a bag tight to your chest, you hoped the tiny cake would make it.

The hours that had long since passed suggested otherwise.

I can do this.

It was only walking. Nothing like what had happened earlier in the day.

Your birthday had started with you running your knuckles into the wall after leaving the bathroom, you had run your big toe into the coffee table, you had saved a cup from plummeting to the floor and hit the same knuckles as that morning, a folder full of papers met the floor later on as each slid in opposite directions, and then it was your cake.

That was almost your breaking point, but as least you had shrugged the other minor inconveniences off.

Things happen, you thought, trying to remain positive.

Not too long ago, maybe an hour, you had finished decorating your birthday cake. It was your favorite flavor and deliciously homemade. Beautiful in your eyes. Until the moment it somersaulted onto the kitchen floor. All of it. It was enough to make you sit by it and mourn its loss.

Whether it was gravity, physics, or something else—it was having a grand time with your birthday.

Should had wished for a calm day, you thought. No party. No surprises. Just a calm day. Got two out of three.

At least you were the only witness. Then again, that did mean you were alone.

But it’s all good. I have cake.

VROOOOM

SPLASH

A car sped down the road.

You blinked as water soaked in and dripped off of you. You only stood there. Done. Completely finished.

You inhaled.

“AAHHHGGH!"

You huffed and walked on.

Stupid car. I can’t even go an hour without something—stupid—happening? Come on!

Shoes stomping, you continued onward.

Stupid. Stupid. Flippin’ WET! This cake better be dr—

thump

“Hey.”

“AYY!" You jumped to the edge of the side walk.

“Whoa.” A masked man rose his hands up. “I’m sorry. I heard you yelling and thought you might be in trouble.”

“Ohmygod.”

Standing before you wasn’t any masked man. He was Robin. A hero of Gotham City.

“Are you in trouble?” Robin asked with a growing smirk. Eyes scanned you up and down.

“Bad day.” You managed to answer. Your frustrations hidden by a layer of surprise and excitement.

“Sorry about that.”

“Me too.”

Wiping water droplets off of the small bag, you shrugged.

“So, um—thank you….for checking on me.” You smiled. “I really appreciate.” Then you added, “Especially today.”

“No problem.” Robin took a step closer, eyeing the bag in your grasp. “What’s special about today?”

Taking your gaze away from the tight-suit-wearing hero, you focused on the semi-dry paper bag. Lifting it up briefly, you showed him the small bakery logo on it.

“It’s my birthday,” you muttered unenthusiastically.

The news registered in his eyes quickly. If it was pity he had for you, he hid it well. He kept a smile on his lips.

“Happy birthday…”

“(Y/N).”

“Happy birthday (Y/N),” Robin said. “May I walk you home?”

Your eyes widened. “Oh. It’s okay. Really. I’m fine—“

Reaching for your arm, Robin quickly pulled you away from the end of the sidewalk as another car sped by.

SPLASH

Well then.

“Thank you.”

From the close proximity, his grin appeared bright. Playful even. He released your arm.

“Okay, uh. It’s not far to my place.” You relented. “At this rate I’ll drop this cake too.”

“Too?”

“It’s been a day.”

With his gloved hand, he gestured for you to lead the way.

Please let him be good luck. He’s Robin. And he’s walking. Me. Home.

Leading the way forward, you kept your thoughts on Robin instead of which way your luck could turn.

He kept the conversation light, but you did eventually tell him about the woes of your day. The man was itching to know. He was shocked all that happened to one person in one day.

You on the other hand were still trying to wrap your brain around the fact that you were walking with Robin. Goodness, you were definitely a fan. A grateful one. One who thought he was so cool and unexpectedly more handsome in person.

The walk to your apartment was uneventful in terms of anything negative happening. All in all, it was good. Safe.

And the cake is fine, you thought happily as you made it to your front door.

“This is it.” You announced. “Thank you again.”

“No problem.” Robin smiled then asked, “Do you have your keys?”

“Yeah, I…have them,” you answered while fishing them out of your pocket. “See? Everything’s still fine.”

Unlocking the door successfully, you opened it.

“Ta da.” You kept it open with the toe of your shoe.

The corner of his lips upturned.

“Now all you need is a gift.”

“What?” You questioned, shocked. “Robin, you already walked me home. And you didn’t have to.”

That’s a gift of its own.

“It’s your birthday.” Robin stepped forward, eyelids becoming heavy-lidded. “I’d like to give you something.”

You swallowed.

“If it’s alright?”

“Um. Sure.” You tilted your head, curious. “Yeah.”

“How about a kiss for your birthday?”

“I…yeah.” You were a bit at a loss for words.

Robin stepped even closer.

Was your mind short-circuiting? Did you hear him correctly?

In a swift motion of his arm, Robin pulled you in by the waist and laid a passionate kiss on your lips.

For those few wonderful, fleeting moments, you were in the arms of a charming hero. The world was quiet. Your birthday was saved. You were even living the dream of almost every person in his fan club.

Parting away slowly felt like waking from a long, vivid dream.

“Happy birthday.” He whispered knowingly. Smirking, he pulled lightly on the bracelet on your wrist.

OH.

Without another word uttered nor kiss shared, Robin left with a wink and his cape billowing behind him.

Wow. And he apparently noticed the handmade Robin bead bracelet my friend sent me.

You walked into your apartment and shut the door.

“Robin kissed me!"

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

~~~

PART TWO

~~~

coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @

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**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[gemsofgreece]

https://youtu.be/-tqop31_bzk?si=r0AQimzbIyjOSS80

What's your opinion about this video analysis about Satti's song showing "the New Greece"?

I have already briefly mentioned this video in a post I made in Greek about Marina.

I found the video exceptionally perceptive, as rarely it is when it is a foreign, American in this case I believe, exploration of anything modern Greek. The YT channel is called “Overthinking It” and, no lie, some extra effort works wonders. He’s incredibly accurate for a man who hasn’t done research on Greek culture and society prior to his analysis of Marina Satti’s song and its reception. I was honestly impressed.

It might not be 100% correct but that doesn’t mean much, even some Greek articles in newspapers were not totally “there” in my opinion.

My biggest objection would be the title “Marina Satti is showing Eurovision the New Greece”, which is not so much a mistake on his part as even in Greece the terms we use are, say, Neo Hellenes instead of Modern Greeks, for example. But in truth Marina is not showing the “New Greece”. Marina was showing a facet of Greece people don’t know or care to know about. That’s totally different.

Whereas we say that foreigners only know about Zeus, the Parthenon, philosophy, that’s not entirely true. Several foreigners know Syrtaki, feta, souvlaki, bouzouki and enjoy those things more, and those are parts of “New Greece”. Some maybe conventionally perceived as such, even. But even those things are too few to represent accurately the “mosaic of Greece”, new or old or whatever.

In Marina’s words, that is. She said in an interview that she wanted to present a glimpse of the mosaic. She wasn’t trying to show a “New Greece”, as in an entirely new entity separated or opposite from an old one, but the Current Greece, as in the “how Greece is faring” as we speak, which interests very few and it is a little odd to have people nitpick even the slightest detail of your history millennia ago but the entire population could self combust into thin air right now and nobody would bat an eye. The American understands more of that in the video, it’s just the title that is slightly odd but it’s also attracting clicks.

I would also however like to comment on Greeks and Europeans’ short memory: Marina is not the first to try this. Many Greek entries were attempting to show more of the “mosaic”. But she is the first in the latest years, when the world has started caring about Eurovision beyond the borders of Europe. It is new to these people for sure.

The juice here is not that Marina tried something supposedly novel. Not at all. The juice here is in WHAT she chose to present. She chose the more heavy-duty Balkan and the more-heavy duty oriental and she mixed it with modern urban rap/ trap culture. This is what the problem was for these people. She is showing something that many Greeks try to reject. THAT is the issue. But she is right. This too is a part of the mosaic.

Greeks just care too much how they look to outsiders. They are constantly afraid that a part of their culture / art will not be appreciated and thus rewarded.

I believe we must be left to do our thing without any poisoning afterthoughts. Some things will definitely not translate well to the global audience. But who cares? Even that is better than sending something that is not true to yourself.

Look at other countries. They send joke entries all the time. We only sent SAGAPO (and even that wasn’t intentionally a joke entry) like 20 years ago and we still can’t recover from the shock. Now we wouldn’t take this lightly either. We just take ourselves TOO seriously.

But if we just do our thing with calmness and confidence and openness to a potential bad result, we will build our own following. I mean. Greece already has a considerable following in Eurovision. Its noughties legacy remains strong and people are rediscovering now the very underrated 70s and 90s. In fact, Greece might be the country that gets the most pressure by Eurofans to send something about Greek culture. I legitimately have never seen comments or nowhere near as many anyway of European people being disappointed at other countries’ entries as much as they are repeatedly at a Greek entry, because it doesn’t have a Greek sound or Greek lyrics. I think this pressure from the Europeans in combination with the mixed receptions once Greece complies has really confused the Greek delegation and the Greek artists.

It seems what the Greek delegation forgets is that it obviously doesn’t have to only be Greek in the lyrics or the instruments. It also has to be, you know, a good song lol

I do think we generally fail to communicate our music very accurately in this contest. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s what I said, we are too scared what others will think and try to “adjust” our music to make it either more Western European or more stereotypey Greek in the monolithic way foreigners view Greece. And hence even the mosaic attempt sometimes falls flat. But even with all those problems, I believe we have our own signature. I just want us to reinforce exactly that. Do it more, do it better and do it UNAPOLOGETICALLY. Zari is nowhere near the ideal attempt but it is an attempt nonetheless, a new start that thrives on the unapologetic part.

PS. So far the best example of the Greek mosaic attempt being successful was Alcohol is Free by Koza Mostra and Agathon Iakovidis in 2013 which finished 6th and it could have been higher if so many Europeans had not clutched their pearls at the notion that their kids watching would think alcohol is offered freely at the time 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ Different times I suppose. Now everyone is fine that every other entry is basically a strip show 🙃

PS 2. In any case I think it is Marina’s success that Zari caused or, rather, bared the social phenomenon that it did and that even foreign YouTubers are trying to decipher and explain what happened.

[wonchswife]

Day three! Back on track!!

So, if you know who Manu's husband is, you know. There is a long long story attached to that pairing

But anyway, please enjoy!

Day Three: Video call

After that kiss, Harry asked him out, in a shy kind of a way. Asking nervously, if he was dating Manuel. Thomas told him no, letting Harry know that know that Manuel married his long time partner as soon as gay marriage was legalized in Germany, then said yes to date. Harry couldn’t quite stop himself, asking Thomas if he knew the man.

“Oh, yes. They’ve been together for…well, a long time damn time. Since before he joined us as a matter of fact. I’m sure Eddie would love to meet you as well. He’s been nagging me for years to find somebody.”

With a huge smile, Thomas hollered down the field to Manuel. Jogging over to them, Manuel grabbed Thomas by the waist. Looking between the two of them, Manuel smiled.

“So, it took Gulacsi knocking sense into you?”

Thomas swatted at him, laughing.

“Hey! I’m seriously injured. Be nice to me.”

Harry laughed along with Manuel. Thankfully, he really wasn’t. They all knew that. Out of caution, Thomas was benched for a few games.

“I’m happy for you both, though. Eddie is going to be overjoyed. And insist on meeting you.”

When training came to an end, Manuel dragged Thomas and Harry to his house. Explaining along the way that Eddie isn’t home yet but he was going to Skype him anyway. Harry looked around in awe at the size of his house. Posters for a 90s band decorated one wall, and a few guitars littered the living room. Manuel led them into the kitchen.

“Beer, water, coffee?”

“Tea if you have any.”

Harry blushed again at both men’s chuckle. Harry watched as he tossed a bottle of water to Thomas, and then dug around his cupboards. A small cry of triumph then Manuel stood up. A kettle in hand. Putting the kettle on, Manuel wandered off for a moment. Taking in the quiet of Manuel’s house, thinking about where he wanted to take Thomas, wondering about Manuel’s husband, a nervous knot building in his stomach as all those thoughts got tangled up in Harry’s head. Harry was startled out of them by Thomas linking their fingers together.

Harry chanced another kiss before Manuel came back. Just another quick peck, Thomas’ lips slightly chapped against his.

“HEY! No making out in my kitchen!”

Harry hid his face as Thomas laughed. Manuel set his tablet down on the table.

“He’ll be happy to see you, Thomas. His number is saved.”

Harry watched as Thomas got the tablet set up. He rubbed his hands on his thighs as the Skype call rang, anxious about meeting him. The cup of tea Manuel handed to him help settle his nerves a bit. Harry almost dropped his tea when the face of an older looking man filled the screen. He seemed quite a bit older than Manuel.

“Thomas! Hi! I didn’t expect to see you. How’s your head? Manu told me that you picked up a bad knock.”

Thomas turned his head a bit to show the man on the screen his bandage.

“Just a few stitches. How’s the tour going?”

“Really well. Most of the venues sold out.”

Harry watched this man’s eyes light up when Manuel leaned on Thomas’ shoulder. The soft smile spoke of a relationship that Harry hoped to build with Thomas.

“So, we can’t nag after Thomas anymore. Eddie, this is Harry. Harry, this is the love of my life, Eddie.”

The man on the screen waved, Harry tentatively waving back, still unsure what to say.

“So, you are the elusive Harry. Thomas had told me a lot about you. It’s nice to have a face to the name. You two finally get your act together?”

Thomas nodded. Manuel picked the tablet up,

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

When Harry heard a door shut, he turned to Thomas. Before he could get anything out, Thomas pressed another kiss to his lips.

[emotionally-creative-rogue]

DOMINATION LINES!!

THANK YOU @caramelcheesegay FOR COMING UP WITH 90% OF THESE, ILY<333

DOMINATED:

Scout:

-“Can’t stun me if you can’t hit me! I’m a freakin’ blur, dipshit!”

-“I am ALWAYS gonna dodge that. When will you LEARN, man?”

-“Oh, oh, oh! I’m STUNNED at how bad you’re doin’!”

Soldier:

-“Don’t swing your puny stick at me, maggot! You come from fake America!!!”

-“I AM IMPERVIOUS TO ALL OF YOUR ATTACKS, SYRUP-SLURPER!”

-“Get off the battlefield and go play some hockey, weakling!”

Demo:

-“Aye, I bet you thought it’d be easy ta kill me, didn’t’che? Well, iaarrghhnnn *snore*.”

-“You call tha’ a grenade?? Me blind Mum farts worse than that wee thing!” 

-“Don’ come a’ me in those ghoulish boots lad, I’ll blast ‘em right offa yer feet!” 

Engie:

-“You’re just a little piece a’ sentry fodder now, aren’t’cha?”

-“You make for some real shitty target practice, son.”

-“Tell me ‘bout those stun grenades sometime, yeah?”

Heavy:

-“Ha! Leetle bug man is crushed. Like bug. Leetle bug. Feed you to Archimedes, Buggy.”

-“Small jumpy man- not Scout? There are two small jumpy men???”

-“You think loud noise and bright light are enough to take down Heavy??? I am killing you now!!”

Medic:

-“Oohoo! Free organs! Young, too!”

-“Ach, that reminds me- I need to feed my birds.”

-“Ohhh, sorry little boy! Go play with your crayons, ja?”

Sniper:

-“Piss off, y’ jumpy git. Bloody grasshopper…”

-“Awh, get quicker next time, won’tcha?” 

-“Dead like a ‘roo on the side o’ the road!”

Spy:

-“For someone named ‘The Rogue’, you are certainly a pack thinker.”

-“Oho! I am *stunned* by your lack of skill!”

-“Not so *Dexx*trous now, hm?”

DOMINATING:

Scout: 

-“No runnin’ in the halls, freshman!”

-“Bonk? More like thonk, eh? ‘Cause that’s the sound your hollow head makes when I hit ya!” 

-“Hah! Too slow!” 

Soldier: 

-“Y'know, a 3" piece of rubber can do a lotta damage, Trench Monkey!”

-“Hah! Oh, I mean- I'm sooo soooorey aboot tha', Bud! (snicker)”

-“A cat on a sloped roof is braver than the entire U.S. Military, Booklicker!” 

Pyro: 

-“Ack! Sorry, Firecracker!” 

-“Oh shit, I think I’m still on fire. Damn it, these were my favorite pants!” 

-“Hey we're, uh, still on for s'mores later... right?”

Demo:

-“Pen's mightier than the sword, cyclops! Get it? 'Cause I'm an artist and you- yeah, nevermind”

-“Someone must have put a little sleepy sauce in your mickeys, bud, ‘cause you are NOT on top of it today!” 

-“Smile and wait for the flash!” 

Heavy:

-“Somebody order ten thousand pounds a’ dead weight? (Snort)” 

-“It’s really hard to miss your pressure points, y’know.” 

-“Move it, ya big lug! You’re in the way!” 

Engineer: 

-“GRENAAAAAADE! I WIN! Ya proud of me, da-uhhh.. dude?” 

-“See ya round, Daaaeengie! I said Engie. Short for Engineer. That is you. You are- I’ll go.” 

-“Bam! And another one down, and another one down! ANOTHER ONE BITES THE BO STAFF!!” 

Medic: 

-“oohohoh, Maybe I can try some experiments on you this time!- Y'know, put your lessons to good use!”

-“Doc, you seriously gotta take care of your health. Damn hypocrite... (Mocking voice) 'Do az I say, not az I do!' my ass!”

-“Guess that's what happens when you don't follow your own advice, thanks for the hands-on lesson!”

Sniper:

-“There, away from the noise now! Just how you like it, Dee!”

-“You may wink at your opponents, but ya gotta take the shot as well, y'know! Can't charm 'em to death!”

-“I just... un-cozied your... camper. I'm having a bad day please be nice.”

Spy:

-“Crisse de connard! -Aheh, not used to gettin' berated in your own language, eh?”

-“Va te faire foutre, merde de con!”

-“Bein Tabarnak, it feels good to turn the tables! Hah, deserved!”

Taunt ideas:

-Using the Bo-Staff as a microphone

-Using the bo-staff as a rifle(making fun of sniper)

-Juggling the stun grenades, almost dropping one and catching it in time before glancing around to see if anyone saw him and putting them away again

OCS:

DOMINATED:

Strat (@emotionally-stressed-strategist):

-“How are you this bad? I’m dominating you with a PEN, Rogue, A PEN.” 

-“Rock, skull. Man down.” 

-“One less dot on the map- don’t come back, yeah?”

Arrow (@emotionally-dead-archer):

-"Hah! Gotcha! Oh, gotta love a little sibling rivalry, am I right?"

-“Bigger sibling? Not really.”

-“Hey! My aim is getting better! Thanks for the target practice!”

DOMINATING:

Strat:

-“I’m done bein’ your wingman if you keep this up.”

-“That’s what happens when you steal my art supplies!”

-“How do you still not have ink poisoning? Dude, seriously.”

Arrow:

-“There! I make for a pretty good role model! You get to see my stuff first-hand!”

-“You're adopted. Sorry.”

-“I think it's almost bedtime, kiddo.”

Jet (@emotionally-broken-robot):

-"Hey, uh, does this count as Softwaregore?"

[kedsandtubesocks]

Here are some Jack Daniels headcanons I have and I am shaking my fist at the sky because I never thought’d I’d get lassoed in by this cowboy yet HERE I AM!!!!

Also this is for Laura @lowlights for being the best/worst influence yeehaw ♡

I have a feeling he is a Scorpio - intense, loyal, literally can hold a grudge forever but also loves deeply

This man is a dork and I stand by that because yes he’s gorgeous and suave and yeah can take down a small army but the minute you answer a trivia question wrong about the empire strikes back he is correcting you, polite as ever because he’s an gentleman, but he still knows the right answer and even talks about how the scene where r2d2 is in the mud water was shot in George Lucas’ unfinished swimming pool

This makes sense when you see his rare and signed Han Solo vintage card in his home office

Also probably has a rare stamp collection he prides himself in and it’s adorable and you giggle so much because he is dorky and you are honored to see this side of him!!

Likes butter pecan ice cream because it’s a southern staple and his grandma loved it too so it reminds him of her

When he wanders away from you at the supermarket he comes back to your side and pretends he doesn’t know you, still tries to flirt with you and be playful while you are there smiling so big the entire time just trying to ask him what type of cereal he wants

Loves a good elegant wine dinner but when you decided to order in take out late one evening instead of going out Jack gets hit with those deep domestic feelings HARD

Once he comes to terms with his first wife’s death I like to believe he has this little dream where she kind of reassures him that their love is forever but he is allowed to heal and let love surround him again and it’s then that he really understands that yes she is and forever will be his first love but you are his forever love and after that he feels reborn

This is even more intensified when he stays over at your place and you have a self care night with relaxing face masks and your favorite treats and the minute you offer to put a face mask on him he’s done for, literally in the bathroom when you’re not looking he’s already browsing his phone for matching robes for you and him

Gets hooked into any series you are watching, he is immediately asking questions about who is who and very sincerely gasps when a big plot twist comes (also is an absolute sucker for a good rom com)

Has no ability to play any type of video game except Mario kart which he takes seriously too and he always picks Mario because “he’s a classic honey, can’t got wrong with a classic” and you joke about how boring that pick is until he kicks your ass on rainbow road

Loves to help people on airplanes move their luggage up into the overhead bins, he’s also that guy who can make conversation in line with almost anyone even at the DMV

You learn he almost domesticated a raccoon when he was a boy

Jack also loves a good museum date and can be super insightful but also a bit silly and he makes funny faces at paintings or statues to make you laugh

Big fan of 90’s country and specifically I see him as a Brooks & Dunn man cause he for SURE serenades you with their song ‘Brand New Man’ multiple times

also is probably a Willie Nelson fan and has a framed photo of when he met the country singer himself and Jack proudly tells the story of how they met any time someone comes over and the moment he decides he’s gonna marry you is when you jokingly prove you can repeat the story word for word

His dream is to one day meet Dolly Parton

LOVES to cuddle!!!

Loves dogs of course but when you care for a scared kitten you find under his truck on a rainy night Jack becomes a complete cat dad and even gets the cat a small little cowboy hat that makes him bust out laughing every time the cat wears it

Is a sucker for candles

Isn’t much of a beach guy but would sit in a lazy river for hours

Once you say yes to his proposal he carves your initials with his into a tree on his family’s property and on the day you get married of course shows it to you (you can’t help but cry of course and he does too)

He finds a left over empty bag or wrapper of your favorite snack in his suitcase when he’s on an away mission and calls you crying a bit drunk because he misses you and thinks you left that for him as a reminder that you’re always with him and you’re like ‘no baby that just means we need to clean our suitcases better’

Gets his wedding ring with your birthstone in it

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

hehe

DEVON. How has this not happened yet?

Almost at the end of a chapter with this one so we shall see if I can fit it all in lol.

90 new sentences for TWATYTK:

---

Buck is certainly right about one thing. You can only count the number of times Eddie has been silly drunk on one hand. Drunk with abandon, that is. He’s been stupid drunk and upset before. But the kind of easy, floating fun that is totally worth the hangover the next morning? Eddie isn’t well versed in that the way Buck is. 

Which is why Eddie happily accepts the gratuitous amounts of champagne offered to him. With his son safely at Pepa’s and at no risk of seeing him, Eddie lets loose and gets champagne drunk. Prosecco drunk? Eddie’s not sure it’s the real thing. Who cares? Tastes great. Makes his head feel carbonated. 

Eddie thinks Buck is taking it a bit slower than him but he doesn’t keep track. They’re both red faced, sweaty, and laughing as the dancing progresses throughout the evening. It all kind of goes by in a blur of lights and greatest hits of years past. Whitney Houston. David Bowie. Earth, Wind, and Fire. Abba. Chim has covered all his bases. 

“It’s a little dated,” Buck observes as they take a moment for fresh air and some water out on the patio. December, 1963 is currently playing, so Eddie supposes he is literally correct.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie raises an eyebrow. “And what would your wedding reception playlist be? Pitbull and Sean Paul?” 

“Hey, now,” Buck laughs. “Don’t knock my early 2000s dance mix until you try it.”

Eddie is a little too drunk and happy to even reminisce on the over-abundance of Shannon’s taste in country music present at their own wedding. 

“Okay,” Eddie says instead. “I’ll just have to try it.”

Buck’s eyes twinkle. “Well, uh, good.”

And it’s a little silly. It’s a little premature, maybe. Or maybe not, all things considered. But Eddie thinks about it. The stupid playlist Buck would make. They could find suits that aren’t exactly matching, but highly complimentary. How they could include Chris in the ceremony. What it would feel like to be someone’s husband again. How it would feel to have a husband. 

Eddie brims with giddy laughter at the thought. 

“What?” Buck asks, grinning.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, reaching forward and resting a hand over Buck’s collarbone. “I just love you.”

Buck kisses Eddie’s forehead, as sweaty as it is. 

“I just love you, too,” he says. “But if we don’t get back inside and keep dancing, Albert is going to call us old. And I simply refuse to deal with that on my sister’s wedding day.”

Eddie laughs. “We can’t have that, can we?”

“My ego simply won’t allow it.” Buck nods.

So Eddie and Buck return to the party, and if Eddie has the tiny seeds of a fantasy taking root in his head, he just hopes it’s not too terribly obvious on his face. 

🗲🗲🗲

In the interest of remembering the evening as best he can, Buck elects not to get as drunk as Eddie. This poses the risk of having less fun, but this doesn’t turn out to be the case. Instead, he gets to watch and stamp it all into memory. Eddie, letting loose in a way that is rare for him. Smiling and utterly gorgeous. Maddie and Chim, so happy in celebrating something that seems both hard won and as simple as magic. Hen and Karen, dancing together, warm and tender and familiar. Giving Buck something to seriously aspire to. 

He’s also very glad he’s functional enough to get video evidence of Ravi and Albert doing a drunken handstand competition well after midnight. Beautiful, really. He’ll have lots of embarrassing photos and videos of everyone for a group chat tomorrow. And lots of Eddie just to keep for himself. 

Somewhere close to two in the morning, Buck is fumbling with the hotel room keycard, while Eddie is slumped against his shoulder. 

“Mmm, just want to lie down,” Eddie complains, when Buck isn’t moving fast enough. Maybe if he wasn’t holding up a whole ass drunk, squirmy man, he’d be a bit quicker.

“Give it a second,” Buck promises. 

When he finally swipes them through, Eddie straightens up, strides through the door, and flops onto the bed with alarming deftness, given how he could hardly walk a second ago. 

“You are full of shit,” Buck accuses. 

Eddie laughs, mischievously. He does not deny Buck’s allegations. 

On top of the covers, head not even making it to a pillow, Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“Oh, no.” Buck scolds, amused. “No falling asleep yet. Take off your damn shoes.”

“You,” Eddie slurs in accusation, keeping his eyes closed but pointing a finger in the approximation of Buck’s direction. “Have put your shoes on my coffee table.”

Buck can’t help but laugh. “It’s our coffee table now, darling.” 

“True,” Eddie yawns. Eyes still shut, he lifts his lefts and awkwardly paws at his shoes. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Buck says, crossing the room to help him remove his shoes.

[thewardenofwinter]

Writeblr Introduction | Morana Warrin

I have finally created a Tumblr for my writing. I haven't been on here since I just got internet access (around 2013 so you can probably guess the things I saw) but I need a place to throw all my ideas at a wall and watch as they trickle down into a puddle of lost nights of sleep and aesthetic pinterest boards.

▸ About

▸My name is Morana, I would prefer they/them pronouns but, to be frank, I do not care what you refer to me as. I have been writing for a long time (too long if you ask some people) but in the past three years, I have been taking the profession much more seriously in hopes of starting a career. Besides being a writer and a threat to modern society, I also dabble in drawing/graphic design and character design.

▸I adore 19th-century Russian literature (Mikhail Bulgakov is my personal favourite) and absurdist texts. There isn't a moment of my day when I'm not listening to some sort of music, I do not discriminate genres in the slightest but I am partial to rock and its many subgenres. I love any 90s and early 2000s movies, early Hollywood horror flicks, and Soviet films from the 80s.

▸ Current Projects

(I am horrible at summaries so please take pity on me. also check TWs)

The Resurrectioners

You only live twice.

(TW: Mentions of s*icide)

After the deaths of her two sisters in a car crash, twenty-seven-year-old Samara Dombroski decides that her life is no longer worth living and makes a successful attempt at her own life. Only there's one problem:

She doesn’t stay dead for very long.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Samara wakes up in a strange, vast estate plagued by visions of the past that she can’t control. She learns that this place is run by a man known only as The Resurrectionist, a necromancer armed with a group of assassins possessing strange abilities called Resurrectioners, an eclectic group of individuals who all share her story: people who found death by their own hand or by some other tragic means.

Now a resurrectioner herself, Samara must repay the debt of her second chance at life to The Resurrectionist by disposing of cadavers for him: violent, ghoulish beings that result from misused necromancy who feast on flesh and bone. Once she has killed enough to satisfy The Resurrectionist, she will be released from the estate she is trapped in and free to live the rest of her life.

genre: dark fantasy, thriller

What We Undertake

Some things are better left undead.

Guillermo Del Toro's Crimson Peak meets Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow in this paranormal mystery and gothic romance set in the late 19th century.

Our tale follows one Dolores Clive, resident medium and the daughter of the late Warren Clive, Boston's most beloved undertaker. After her father's death and subsequent take over of the family business, Dolores has become a recluse haunted by ghosts of her past and near future which all comes to head when her step-sister arrives in town with her newly acquired fiancé and his rather strange but beautiful brother in tow following a string of murders.

Genre: horror/supernatural fiction, gothic fiction

The Stray Girls

It's not drugs that are killing these teens.

(TW: Mentions of drugs and alcohol)

Set in the fictional city of Maynard, The Stray Girls is a retelling of The Lost Boys centred around a cast of troubled teen girls set 10 years later in 1997'.

After once again deciding to move across the country with her daughters, Magdelena's mother decides that cheap rent is worth more than her daughter's lives when she moves to Maynard, Washington— which currently boasts the largest missing girl population in the country. While settling into their new home, Magda notices her elder sister Roxanne is beginning to act strange: leaving the house in the middle of the night, wearing sunglasses indoors, and sleeping all day. First suspecting it to be drugs, Magda thinks nothing of it, but as time goes on and her sister's personality makes a sudden shift in the wrong direction, she can no longer pretend like everything is alright. Meeting the group of troubled girls that her sister now calls 'friends' slowly leads her down a path of crime, thrill and peer pressure. But it's not booze that these girls are drinking: it's blood.

Genre: Teen Adventure/Horror

▸ LINKS

pinterest // spotify // instagram

Though my aesthetic and writing style may scream morbid academic pretentiousness, I assure you my online presence and writing greatly contrast with my personality (and looks for that matter) so please do not be alarmed by my frequent buffoonery, general bastardness, and bombastic vulgarity.

Thank you for reading! (or skipping to the end)

— M. Warrin