#and izzy saw that and changed too

[thequinsaneeaterofapples]

I see so many posts about ofmd season 3. am I the only person in the universe who doesn't want one

[arsenicflame]

since we all appear to be talking about izzy 'calling the police' on stede id like to offer my silly little two cents:

its not like the navy wasn't actively looking for him anyway??????

at most, izzys actions sped up badminton catching up with stede, but its made very clear that badminton wanted Stede dead well before this, and was willing to use whatever he could to find him- whos to say jackie wouldnt have cut a deal on her own? that any other pirate thats seen them being unsubtle in a port wouldn't take the opportunity to make a quick buck over a guy who is Nobody and holds no influence that could lead to any consequences for them?

in reality izzy is probably the only person who would receive negative repercussions to selling out stede, given his personal connection with ed- any other pirate would probably have gotten away unscathed, anonymous. they likely wouldnt have even been present like izzy was. izzy had personal stakes, anyone else would have taken the money and ran

the way i see it, with or without izzy the events of episode 10 probably would have happened in some degree, izzy just expedited the timeline

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

You knew my mother was here | Moth Work

Lonan has stopped paddling. The canoe sits in the middle of the lake, lifeless like a bone in the water. He’s turned so Harrison sees him in profile and can’t tell if it’s relieving or worrying to see his face. Lonan’s jaw is taut, like there are words he wants to say but can’t. Filling up the hollow bone. He blinks slowly, like he’s trying to re-centre himself, his chest quivering with breaths meant to steady him. The water laps at the base of the canoe, whirling like his head. Dark hair tangles down his cheeks like the fingers of a poltergeist.

“You knew my mother was here,” Lonan says.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Research.”

LONAN PORTRAIT TO GRACE (HAUNT?) YOUR DASH!! <3

Excerpt circa 2019.

[loonylupinblack3]

Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe. 

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness. 

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

[sanjisprincesss]

“I still get jealous.”

Jason Todd x Reader

Summery: Jason gets jealous after a rando tries to hit on you.

Warnings: swearing and slight mention of alcohol.

Content: fluff and angst if you squint nothing too crazy.

Izzy’s notey: this is inspired by the song Jealous by Nick Jonas 😋

It was a normal night in Gotham, or as normal as Gotham could get. You had been working alongside the Bat-Family for a while now, helping them with cases when needed. Tonight, you found yourself in a crowded nightclub with Tim and Stephanie, tracking down a lead for an investigation. The last thing you expected was for Jason to show up.

Tim had convinced you to take a break from the intense workload, and now, as you leaned against the bar, you were chatting with Stephanie, casually sipping on your drink. The music was loud, and the flashing lights made everything feel more vibrant than usual. You were just starting to relax when you saw him.

Jason Todd, or as he preferred to be called now, Red Hood, walked into the club. His posture was stiff, his eyes scanning the room with a sharp intensity. As soon as his gaze met yours, a small but unmistakable flicker of something dark flashed across his face. He was dressed casually, though still carrying that air of authority and danger that made him stand out.

You waved him over, a smile spreading across your face. “Hey, Jay! What are you doing here?”

Jason’s expression softened just for a moment before he walked toward you, his boots clicking with every step. As he reached you, you noticed his eyes flick to the man beside you, his stance tightening just a fraction. You’d never seen Jason react this way before, and for a moment, you thought you imagined it.

“You guys are taking a break?” Jason’s voice was a little sharper than usual.

Tim and Stephanie had been chatting amongst themselves, but now Tim noticed Jason’s presence. “Jason, what’s up?” He greeted him with a small wave, but Jason didn’t acknowledge him right away.

Instead, his gaze remained fixed on you. You could almost feel the weight of his stare, and it sent an odd shiver down your spine. Something was off. You tried to brush it off, but Jason wasn’t making it easy. He stood too close to you, his body slightly turned toward you, blocking anyone from coming too close.

A man from the other side of the bar, someone you hadn’t even noticed before, approached you, flashing a confident smile. “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said smoothly. “But I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. Can I buy you a drink?”

Jason’s eyes immediately narrowed, his jaw clenching. The man seemed completely unaware of the tension building between you and Jason, but you could feel the change in the air. Jason’s posture was rigid now, his arms crossed over his chest, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

You smiled politely, trying to defuse the situation. “Thanks, but I’m actually here with friends,” you said gently. “We’re just hanging out tonight.”

The man didn’t take the hint. “I get that, but one drink won’t hurt, right?”

Before you could answer, Jason stepped forward, his presence overwhelming. His voice was low but firm, “She said no.”

The man blinked, looking between you and Jason. “Uh, okay, man. No need to be a jerk.” He backed off, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

Jason’s gaze didn’t leave the man until he was gone. Then, without saying a word, he turned back to you, his eyes dark with something unreadable. He was acting differently, and you knew something was bothering him.

Tim noticed the change too. “Jason, you okay?”

Jason ignored him, his attention still fully on you. You took a step closer to him, your hand gently brushing his arm. “Jay, are you alright?”

Jason’s expression softened, but only just. He let out a heavy breath, his arms uncrossing as he finally made eye contact with you. “You were having a good time,” he muttered, his tone gruff. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

You frowned. “Jay, you know I can handle myself. It was just some guy.”

Jason’s lips twisted into a small, tight smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, well, that guy didn’t know what he was dealing with.”

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by that. Jason wasn’t just protective—he was territorial. You knew he hated seeing other people get too close to you, even in harmless situations like this.

“You’re jealous,” you said softly, almost teasingly, but there was a genuine curiosity behind it.

His gaze flickered, and for a moment, you thought he might deny it. But then his eyes hardened, and he sighed. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean I don’t have a reason to be.

“Jason…” You reached out, taking his hand, your fingers brushing against his gloved ones. “You don’t have to worry. I’m with you, not him.”

Jason looked down at your hand for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I know. Just…” He paused, seeming to struggle with his words. “I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they have a chance with you.”

You smiled softly, feeling warmth spread through you at his words. You understood his protectiveness, even if it was a little intense sometimes. “You’re the only one I want, Jay,” you reassured him, your thumb gently brushing over his hand.

He gave you a small, satisfied smirk, but the tension in his body relaxed slightly. “I better be.”

Tim and Stephanie, sensing the quiet moment between the two of you, decided it was time to let you have your space. Stephanie gave a playful wink as she nudged Tim. “Come on, we’ll let them work out their ‘issues.’”

Tim grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t destroy the club, alright?”

You laughed lightly, but Jason’s focus never wavered from you, his gaze softening, though there was still that possessive edge in his eyes. It wasn’t about distrust; it was about his deep-rooted need to protect you, even from things that seemed insignificant to others. To him, your safety and happiness were paramount, and anything—or anyone—that threatened that deserved his full attention.

As the two of you stood there, the noise of the club fading into the background, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Jason’s fierce love, even if it sometimes came with a little jealousy.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[izzyy-stuff]

𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔

bf!Beomgyu x fem!reader

in which Beomgyu never liked kids much. At least, until he met you and your little siblings. You were the reason he realized kids might not be as bad. It got him thinking, that maybe love can really change a person.

wc 2.4k

warnings a lot of kissing, making-out, reader has two younger siblings, established relationship, pet names, cringe-ly cute, some suggestive content I guess??

�� izzy speaks... I am such a sucker for fluff why did I not write one in so long omg T-T. This is actually nothing new either and you can find it on my wattpad acc as it's originally been written for it. But this version has some small edits and also is written for x reader unlike the one on wp as I use my ocs there. But yeah, that's for behind the scenes of this one shot loll

“What are you still doing, love?” The brown-haired boy leaned over the counter, obviously bored already. “Your shift ended twenty minutes ago. Come on,” he whined, flashing you his best puppy eyes, pouting his lips a bit, but it only made you chuckle. When he saw you laugh, his smile dropped, and dramatically flopped down on the counter, his head resting right next to your arms.

You had to smile as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Alright, alright, let's go then,” you whispered, locking the cash register. The male jumped up, immediately full of energy again. “You’re just a tall kid, Gyu,” you shook your head at him, taking your bag so you could leave.

“No, I am not,” he argued, his hand reaching over to snatch your bag. “Would a kid take care of you like I do?” He grinned proudly. “Yes, in fact, my brother takes better care of me than you do,” you teased, letting him take the bag as you walked around the counter to him. “I’m kidding. You know you’re amazing,” you assured him, linking your arm with his. You knew better than to tease him for too long. He might even decide to go home alone if you continued. “Of course I am,” he rolled his eyes jokingly.

“Never mind, I don't want you to come over anymore,” You proclaimed, stepping away from him to prove your point. “I would much rather listen to Mina talk about her favorite clothes.”

Beomgyu fake gasped at your statement, grabbing your hand before you could stray further away from him. “You don't mean that.”

You shrugged, “Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Who knows.”

“I know. You love spending time with me,” Beomgyu stated, pulling you back. He wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning closer to place his lips on yours. You had to smile again when he did so. He was right. You loved spending time with him more than anything else.

“I love you, Gyu,” you whispered against his lips the moment you pulled away, causing a smile to spread on his face. “I love you too, baby.”

“Cutie,” you mumbled, slowly rereleasing his hand. “I’m going to tell my manager I‘m leaving. Wait here.”

“Will do, ma'am,” he said, saluting. You giggled at him, making him quickly burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry you had to wait for so long,” your manager walked back with you right next to her. Beomgyu just shook his head, saying it was okay. “Next time, just come tell me she refuses to leave work. I'll send her home so you two can go on a date,” she laughed, and you rolled your eyes. Gyu laughed, too, nodding. “It's fine. At least we’re leaving now,” he smiled, waiting for you to approach him so that the two of you could finally go.

♡⸝⸝

“Stop doing something all the time,” Beomgyu pouted again, watching you move around the room from his spot on your bed. For some reason, you found cleaning up your room more interesting than lying down next to him, and he wasn't a big fan of that. “But it's a mess,” you looked at him, a shirt in one of your hands and a book in the other. “I forgot to clean before you came, and I regret it now.”

“Love.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing. “I know, I know. I just... I’m still not used to anyone except for my family seeing how messy I am just yet,” you admitted, walking to your table to place the stuff aside.

You approached your bed again, sitting down next to your boyfriend. Beomgyu sat up too, taking your hands in his. “You've seen how my room looks. There are clothes everywhere, and most of them aren't even mine! I don't care at all what your room looks like. I only care about you. So stop doing other things all the time and come watch the movie with me,” he shook your hands, making you laugh. “Thank you, Gyu,” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek. He smiled too, immediately stealing a kiss from you as he pulled you into a hug.

Somehow, your plan to watch a movie together turned into a makeout session instead. You were sitting on your boyfriend's lap, your hands around his neck, playing with his hair while he placed kisses and marks on your neck, his hands wandering across your hips and back. 

“I told you not to leave marks,” you complained, but honestly, you couldn't love what he was doing more. Even though you didn't want him to place marks on visible places because you didn't want to mask them up, you still fell in love with him a bit more every time he did.

“Mhm,” he mumbled but didn't stop kissing you. “But they look so pretty on you, beauty,” he proclaimed, leaving your neck for a second so he could kiss your lips again. “Beauty,” you repeated after him, smiling into the kiss. “I love it when you call me that.”

As Beomgyu placed his lips on yours, pulling you closer by your hips, the door swung open, making you pull away from your boyfriend. “Oh gosh, get your own room if you want to be all over your boyfriend,” Mina, your younger sister, frowned. She regretted not knocking immediately. “You’re home already?” Your eyes widened before you got off your boyfriend, sitting beside him awkwardly.

“Yeah, we ended sooner, so I picked up Sang too. It would help if you had told me you were bringing Gyu over. I would have knocked,” she sighed, throwing her bag on her bed on the other side of the room. “I, uhm, am going to help Sang change and...I guess we'll watch something,” she proclaimed, hesitating as she watched the two of you. Mina wasn't sure what to do. Her original idea was to run away as soon as possible and leave you two alone, but the more she looked at you, the more she got the feeling that it didn't matter anymore. It looked like she ruined your mood completely already.

“Thanks, Mina,” You smiled slightly at her, embarrassed. “We'll join you in a minute,” you assured her. “You don't have to,” Mina panicked again, getting embarrassed too. It wasn't like she did anything wrong. It was her room, too, but she still felt bad. “Don't worry about it, Mina, we'll be there right away,” Beomgyu smiled at her, trying to make her more at ease.

“I guess I'll see you later then,” she nodded, awkwardly glancing towards the door. “Yeah, this is weird. Have fun..., I guess?” She didn't even wait for your answer before walking out of the room again, closing the door behind herself as fast as possible.

You screwed your eyes shut, sighing. You rested your head on Beomgyu's shoulder, not saying anything as you looked at Mina's bed. The brown-haired male chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his head on yours. “She isn't a kid anymore, you know. This probably isn't the first time she has seen people make out.”

“I just keep getting reminded that I need to get my own apartment.”

He didn't say anything to it, but a smile appeared on his face as soon as he heard your words. You gave him the perfect opportunity to finally talk about what he was meaning to mention for weeks now.

“But I don't want to live alone. I don't even know how to do that anymore. It's been fifteen years since I had my room, after all,” You sighed again. “And I would miss them too much.”

“Well,” he started, sitting up properly again, making you raise your head to look at him, a curious look on your face. “You don't need to live alone,” he stated. It didn't take much longer for you to figure out what he was talking about. You weren't dumb at all, and he knew that, so he was sure you would understand him without him having to say much, but somehow, knowing that you knew what he was talking about made him more nervous.

“Are you suggesting something, Mr. Choi?” You grinned, teasing him.

“I am,” he nodded confidently. “Find an apartment with me. I am tired of having Soobin's clothes everywhere I look,” he joked, making you chuckle.

“You want to move in with me?”

“More than anything,” he assured you, taking your hand. “I don't need anything big. All I want is to be with you.”

You couldn't control your smile no matter how much you tried to. Leaning closer, you pressed your lips against his. “Let's find something then,” you whispered against his lips as you pulled away. He smiled too, nodding before he got up, still holding your hand, pulling you along with him.

“You don't need to spend your afternoon with my little siblings,” you reminded him, not letting go of his hand. “I know this isn't how you imagine your Friday night to go.”

“Nothing is more fun than spending time with you. It doesn't matter to me if it's just the two of us or your little siblings too. You love them, and so do I.”

“You’re the best,” you smiled again, walking out of the room with him by your side.

The two of you got to the living room, and you immediately walked over to your little brother, going to hug him and say hi. Mina stepped back when she noticed you so she wouldn't be in the way. She glanced at the older male, mouthing a quick sorry before walking to him.

“You wanna go sit down and rest for a while?” He suggested, his eyes pointing at the dining table. The teenage girl nodded to him, glancing at her two siblings once more before walking away with him.

“Sorry, Gyu. I really didn't know you were coming over today,” she sighed, sitting down. He shook his head again, telling her it was okay. “I am the one who should be sorry. I probably should have locked the door,” he laughed it off, making a laugh escape her lips too. “That suits you way more,” he smiled proudly, and Mina had to roll her eyes. “I don't want to hear it. No speeches about me having to smile more today, got it?”

“Alright, alright. But you can still tell me about school today,” Beomgyu prodded her, and she had to sigh. Somehow, he was exactly like you when it came to this. She could see he cared about her as if she were his sister. It always made her appreciate him.

“Well, and what about you?” Mina asked when she finished her part. “Did you finally get the courage to ask her?”

“I did,” he admitted, his lips curving into a smile again. “She agreed, but I still feel like she will ask you for your opinion right when I leave.”

“Don't worry, I'll tell her living with you will be her best decision ever,” Mina chuckled. “I am the one who encouraged you to ask her in the first place, after all.”

“Yeah, you're the greatest younger sister.”

“Thanks,” she grinned proudly. “We should get back now, though. She is your date, not me.” He nodded, glancing over at you before standing up again. “Let's have a Monopoly night!” He called, smiling widely.

You finally took your eyes off your little brother and looked his way, beaming when you noticed him. “We're gonna play games,” you smiled at your brother again, laughing at how his whole face lit up. “I want to play with Beomgyu!” He yelled immediately, almost tripping when he jumped from the couch to run to him.

“You don't even need to do anything, and you're still their favorite,” you sighed, shaking your head. “It's another one of my charms,” he grinned confidently, picking Sang up when he ran to him. “I bet me being good with kids turns you on.”

“Get a room already,” Mina nudged his shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“We will, but monopoly first,” he answered, sticking his tongue out at her, acting like a little kid again. The four-year-old in his arms laughed, copying the male and sticking out his tongue at his sister too.

“That's not my fault,” Beomgyu said in defense when he noticed your warning look, holding back his laugh.

♡⸝⸝

After a few hours, when your parents got back home from work, you and Beomgyu disappeared into your room again, leaving the rest of your family alone in the living room.

“You didn't even like kids when we first met,” you said, sitting on his lap again, just staring into his eyes. He just shrugged. “I guess one changes a person.”

“You didn't like me either when we first met, and look at us now,” he reminded you, making you roll your eyes. “Well, you were a stranger hitting on me while I was just trying to do my job back then. And you didn't know what ‘no’ meant.”

“Because I knew you would end up falling for me.”

You had to shake your head at his confidence, but you couldn't disagree. You did fall for him. You loved him more than anyone you had dated before, and you had been dating a few people before. He was just different, better.

“I’m glad you never gave up on me, even when you had to go through rejection many times,” you told him, fixing his hair. “You definitely knew better than me back then,” you admitted with a slight smile.

That much was enough for Beomgyu to want to steal a kiss from you again. He pulled you closer to himself and pressed his lips on yours, his smile growing wider when he heard you giggle. He wrapped his hands around your waist, hugging you as you placed your hands on his shoulders, closing your eyes as you kissed him back.

“Now imagine how many of those kisses you can get once we move in together,” he whispered against your lips, grinning when he saw you lean closer again, announcing it wasn't over yet.

Your lips were swollen already, but you didn't mind anymore. You didn't care. All you wanted at the moment was to continue kissing him, so you did. You were going to kiss him for as long as you could.

“I love you so much,” You mumbled against his lips when you had to pull away to catch your breath.

“I love you more, beauty,” he answered, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath landing on your lips. “More than anything.”

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @virgo-and-libra @love-be0m ✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!

[cece693]

She Doesn't Know

pairing: alec lightwood x male reader tags: secret relationship, Alec isn't ready to come out, leads to you being flirted with a lot, jealous Alec, clary being clary, things are changed to fit my narrative better

Alec leaned against the stone pillar in the Institute’s training room, trying to ignore the slight tension coiling beneath his ribs. You were in the center of the open space, demonstrating an elegant series of blade techniques for a group of wide-eyed onlookers: Izzy, Jace, a handful of other Shadowhunters, and of course, the newest arrival—Clary.

There you stood, the picture of confidence and grace. Each arc of your blade elicited murmurs of appreciation from the small crowd, and Alec couldn’t help but feel an all-too-familiar twinge of envy. He watched from a short distance, arms folded over his chest, jaw tight.

You were his boyfriend. His partner. His. Yet, in the eyes of almost everyone else here, you were the Institute’s star: gorgeous, talented, charismatic. Alec had overheard rumors that you were the “ideal Shadowhunter”—the sort of person even the Inquisitor might commend without hesitation. You had been many people’s first crush: from timid recruits who looked up to you as the epitome of skill and kindness, to seasoned warriors who admired your strength and devotion to the Clave.

But none of that changed the fact that you were Alec’s secret—at least, outside of Izzy and Jace. His siblings knew, had known for a while, but it wasn’t something Alec wanted the entire Institute gossiping about, especially not while he was still grappling with how to tell his parents. And definitely not to Clary Fray, the redhead who’d only just discovered she was a Shadowhunter at all.

It didn’t help that Clary had developed an instant fascination with you from the moment she was rescued. Alec suspected it was more than just gratitude. She listened with rapt attention anytime you spoke, eyes shining like you were the only person in the room. And the problem wasn’t just that she was smitten. It was that you, being the gentle soul you were, rarely turned anyone away. You humored her questions, you corrected her stance in training, you comforted her when the nightmares of her mother’s kidnapping returned.

Alec’s heart twisted in on itself every time he saw her giggling at something you said. He couldn’t exactly scold Clary for enjoying your company—she didn’t know you were taken. Worse yet, Alec couldn’t just stride up and put an arm around you to make some blatant claim. Not in front of a group that still assumed Alec’s straight.

“She doesn’t know,” Izzy said softly as she approached. Alec was startled; he hadn’t heard her footsteps. She was wearing her signature confident smile, but it was tinged with sympathy. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Alec sighed, keeping his gaze locked on you. Having stopped your training, you now were talking to Clary, the little girl's laughter echoing through the room, high and bright. Alec could almost taste the jealousy on his tongue. “I know she doesn’t know,” he grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “I just—It feels like he’s everyone’s favorite. Even with Jace—”

“Jace is his parabatai,” Izzy interjected teasingly, lifting a dark eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you still think he's making a move on your boyfriend. When they drew those runes, he basically gave up those feelings.”

Alec heaved a silent breath. “It’s not…I know Jace respects our relationship. It’s just—he’s my best friend too, right? So it feels strange that whenever I look for him, or for my boyfriend, they’re off training together, or exchanging some inside joke.”

Izzy placed a comforting hand on Alec’s arm. “You’re not used to sharing, but you’re going to have to. You can’t lock him up in your room away from everyone else.”

Alec shot her a glare, but a reluctant half-smile tugged at his lips. “That wouldn't be such a bad idea, actually. But, seriously, that's not what I’m trying to do.”

“I know,” Izzy said, voice gentler. “Talk to him. He’d want to know if you’re feeling this way.” Alec glanced from Izzy back to you. He knew she was right; you’d pick up on his mood soon if you hadn’t already. You always had a knack for sensing when Alec was troubled. Or jealous.

Later that evening, Alec found you seated on one of the long benches in an alcove behind the Institute’s library. Dim overhead lights cast dancing shadows along the shelves. You’d folded your arms on the table in front of you, scribbling notes on a mission report.

He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, admiring the way your hair fell over your forehead, the focus etched across your face. Of course people gravitated toward you—you were breathtaking, inside and out. Alec’s chest warmed at the reminder that, for now, your heart belonged to him.

Taking a quiet breath, he approached and gently rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up, a brilliant smile lighting up your features the moment you saw him. The corners of Alec’s mouth tugged up, and he sunk down on the bench beside you.

“Hey,” you said softly, setting aside your pen. “You okay? You seemed a bit off in training earlier.”

He shrugged, then shook his head, deciding to be honest. “I’m just…” He swallowed. “A little jealous, I guess.”

Your eyebrows arched in surprise before softening with understanding. “Of Clary?”

Alec’s mouth parted, but he hesitated. It felt foolish to say it out loud. “She doesn’t know about us,” he finally admitted. “And I can’t exactly blame her for…flirting.” His lips twisted wryly around the word. “But it drives me crazy.”

You slid closer, your thigh brushing his. A comforting warmth radiated between your bodies. “I can see that.” Your voice was gentler than ever. “I’ve been trying to discourage her without being mean, but she’s persistent.”

Alec let out a breath he’d been holding. “I don’t want to let my jealousy show. And I definitely don’t want anyone else figuring out my…preferences before I’m ready.” The words still felt awkward on his tongue, but it was the truth. “It feels like all eyes are on us, you know? You’re…well, you’re you.” He almost laughed at his own phrasing. “People watch you. They notice who you talk to, who you train with, who you spend time with. If they notice me acting possessive or something, questions will start.”

You reached for his hand and squeezed. “I understand. There’s a lot riding on you, on your family name, on how the Clave sees you.” Your voice lowered. “I just want you to be comfortable. I don’t want to hide, but I also don’t want to force you out before you’re ready.”

Alec’s chest felt tight. Gratitude washed over him in a gentle wave. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the reassuring feel of your hand in his. “I’d never want you to hide either, but—yeah, it’s complicated.”

“It is.” You brushed a thumb over his knuckles. “I care about you, Alec. That’s not going to change, no matter who else needs a training partner or who else tries flirting.” A soft smile tugged at your lips. “And if Clary presses too hard, I’ll find a tactful way to let her know I’m not interested.”

Heat rose to Alec’s cheeks. It felt absurd that a single line could chase away so many of his doubts. You had a way of cutting through his insecurities with your kindness. Every word felt like a reaffirmation of your loyalty to him.

For a second, Alec let himself imagine a future where the entire Institute knew the truth—where he could step forward and simply stand behind you during training, wrap an arm around your waist without worrying about the stares. Where Clary could look at you both and see just how uninterested you were in her. One day. Soon, maybe.

[our-flag-means-love]

as someone whose abuser is very beloved and respected locally because no one but me and one other person know what they're like behind closed doors, seeing the way the crew treats izzy vs how they treat ed in the first half of s2 is both frustrating and all too familiar.

yes, izzy deserves support, and i believe that everyone, no matter what, should have an opportunity to grow and change, but god, hearing jim say "he was your friend" just hurts. especially bc it's not their fault. they didn't know. they knew he was a dick, but they didn't see the emotional abuse we all saw. no one but ed did. so he ends up being painted as the bad guy who flew off the handle and nearly got everyone killed while izzy only gets sympathy. and yes, ed did nearly get everyone killed, but i think the balance of blame vs sympathy would've been severely shifted if anyone else had witnessed the "i should've let the english kill you" scene. or anything else that izzy's been doing to ed for years, which he openly admits on his deathbed.

so it's just frustrating and disheartening to see ed get banished from the ship while izzy gets a new leg crafted and painted gold by the crew. i'm not saying that ed didn't deserve any criticism or that izzy didn't deserve a new leg. it just hurts that no one else Knows.

[broidobe]

𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢

requested! thank youuuuuu! i can make a part two if you'd like!

☾izzy and the reader were once in love before his fame, but after years of silence, he returns wanting to reconnect☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

you remember when it was simple. when it was just the two of you—izzy and you, before anything had the chance to change. it wasn’t about fame or recognition. it was about the music, late nights, and dreams that felt so tangible you could almost reach out and touch them. you’d meet up at his apartment or at dive bars in the city, the sound of a jukebox playing in the background, the clink of glasses and the murmur of quiet conversations surrounding you. but the two of you were in your own world.

back then, no one knew who guns n’ roses was. it was just a band with big ambitions. and you were with izzy through it all—through the struggles and the small victories. it felt like the two of you were unstoppable. he’d look at you with those wild eyes, that mischievous smile, and talk about the future, the one where he was going to make it big. you believed him, of course. you always did.

then the band exploded. one minute, he was the guy you saw in the studio, getting better every day, and the next, guns n' roses was everywhere. the tours, the interviews, the screaming fans—it all came crashing down on him. the world was now watching, and izzy became a part of something bigger than you could have ever imagined.

at first, it wasn’t so bad. you’d talk on the phone when he was free, send a few letters, but slowly, it began to fade. he’d get caught up in the whirlwind of it all, and you would try to understand, but there was a growing emptiness in your chest.

the days turned into weeks, then months. izzy stopped calling. he stopped writing. you would hear his name everywhere, see his face on magazine covers, hear his songs on the radio, but he was no longer there for you. you’d sit in your room with the phone on your lap, waiting for a call or a letter, but it never came.

you told yourself it was just the way things were now. he was living his dream. he was busy, right?

but it didn’t stop the hurt.

you tried moving on, but how do you let go of someone who was once everything to you? how do you erase the memories of those summer nights, the way his fingers would brush against yours, the way he would laugh so easily? you couldn’t, not really. you learned to live without him, though, and maybe that was the hardest part. you learned to exist without him.

years passed. you found your own way, built a life that didn’t revolve around his absence. but in the back of your mind, izzy always lingered. that small flame that never fully went out. you pushed it down, buried it deep, but there were moments—late at night or during a quiet afternoon when a song would come on the radio, or something would remind you of him—that flame would flicker again.

and you hated yourself for it. for still thinking about him. for still waiting, even though he’d never promised anything.

then, one day, the phone rang. you didn’t recognize the number at first, and when you picked it up, there was a moment of silence. then you heard a voice. his voice. it was deep, familiar, the same but different, like it hadn’t aged at all.

“hey, it’s izzy,” he said, and your heart skipped a beat. “i��� i’ve been thinking about you. a lot. i’m leaving the band.”

you blinked, not understanding what he meant at first. leaving the band? after all this time?

“i just—” he sighed, the sound heavy in the receiver. “i had to. it’s not what i thought it would be, and i’ve realized i’ve been running for a long time. i need to come back. come back to you.”

you didn’t know how to respond. your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing with confusion. the years of silence, the pain, the heartache—it all came rushing back.

you thought about everything you’d lived through, how much you’d changed, how much he had too. but you also thought about that flame—the one you’d kept alive, buried deep but never truly gone.

izzy was here now, saying all the right things. he was leaving the fame, the band, the life he’d built for a new one. with you.

but you still didn’t know what to feel.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice quieter now, unsure. “i just want to see you. i miss you.”

and just like that, everything seemed to pause. time seemed to stand still. the world outside faded, and it was just you, standing in the quiet after all these years, waiting for something that had felt impossible. you had the choice.

you could let him back in.

or you could keep going, as you had been, without him.

but deep down, you already knew.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

From the moment Ed lands on the Revenge, I think Stede stops thinking of the Captain’s quarters, and the ship really, as ‘his’ and begins thinking of it as ‘ours.’* Ed’s wearing Stede’s clothes within hours. By morning, Stede’s sharing his marmalade stash. Ed borrows Stede’s clothes for the French party, is invited into his bednook to watch the fuckery. Ed uses the bathroom as a safe space covered by Stede’s battle jacket. Lounges on the chaise longer. Nighttime brandies, sumptuous shared breakfasts.

Ed might initially covet Stede’s stuff entirely for himself, but that changes very quickly. He wants to share this way of life Stede’s got going here. The way they fall into such easy domesticity makes what happens next all the more heartbreaking.

Izzy claims that Ed’s decision to throw out Stede’s stuff is because he doesn’t want ‘Stede’s old dross.’ But I don’t think that’s Ed’s motivation at all. It’s his old dross too. Symbolically the stuff thrown out represented their life together on the Revenge.

This isn’t a jilted spouse cutting up Armani suits out of spite, because I don’t think Ed believes Stede will ever see the results. Ed is quite clear: he now thinks Stede is a dilettante when it comes to the Revenge, piracy, and himself. He calls the crew abandoned on the sandbank ‘Bonnet’s playthings’. The line ‘on to the next’ is ambiguous in that it is referring to Ed ‘moving on’ (sure, Ed), but also Stede, who is no doubt ‘on to the next’ plaything.

Furthermore, during the 204 couch scene, Ed tells Stede he was a ‘whim’, like his wife and ‘toy unicorn boat.’ So in 1.10, Ed likely thinks Stede’s left for good.

As things often are with Ed, the ridding of Stede’s possessions is an act of self-harm. He is throwing out his dream of a life with Stede, his belief he can have fine things; destroying all softness, possibly almost as an act of penance, a castigation, for being so fucking stupid - such a ‘fucking idiot’.

It’s shame-driven. Ed’s so embarrassed he thought it was real. And the crew know. They all know Stede left him. And they all now know that Ed is worthless like he always knew he was. And they saw him soft and broken on deck - they saw ‘Edward’. But he can’t be Edward. It’s not safe.

Maybe if Ed can throw out all of these objects, he can convince himself and everyone else it never really happened. That life was always grim and relentless. That he was always a scary, Viking vampire clown. He can eradicate the dream of something other…

After all, Stede Bonnet was too good for him.

Just a mirage.

A pipe-dream…

*technically they’ve been invaded so the ship is Ed’s, but he never treats it as such, and always recognises Stede as captain.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Chapter 3 - An Affair to Remember

A/N: New chapter? Here we are. Let me know your thoughts!!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff, angst?

Word count: 4k ish. It’s long.

An affair to remember

.

“You what?”

That was the third time Izzy had asked the question and your answer hadn’t changed. You knew it would shock her, I mean to an extent it shocked you. But you had to tell your best friend, you couldn’t keep it a secret. So you called her home for dinner and drinks, since it was her last night before she flew off to yet another location for another wildlife photography assignment.

“I slept with him, Izzy. I told you already.” you sighed.

“And how old is this guy again?” Her voice was laced with judgement but you decided to let her have at it since the situation was delicate and much expected; she had been picking at the label stuck on the beer bottle, it now formed a tiny mountain on your dining table as she continued scratching it off the glass.

“I don’t know! Forty something?”

“He’s forty six, Y/N. That’s too old for you!” Her words cut through that little daydream you were in, she could be frustratingly real sometimes.

“You don’t think I know that? Izzy, you’re supposed to be my friend. Not my mom.” You muttered defensively, walking over to get yourself another beer from your fridge.

“I’m just looking out for you, Y/N. I don’t want you to be involved in something that can get really complicated. And this? Has complications written all over it.” Her tone had turned gentler now, eyes full of worry as you sighed, leaning back your chair.

“Okay, I haven’t figured it all out yet but I will. It’s not like I’m dating him, you know? It could be a one time thing.”

It sent a pang of disappointment through you as you said it out loud, not really wanting last night to be a one time thing.

“Well good. I don’t want you getting hurt. Just be careful okay?”

Nodding, you gave her a grateful smile, accepting the hug she gave you.

“And you’re right. I’m not your mom and I don’t plan to be. I’m your best friend, so, how was he?” She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at you as she sat back.

“Oh God! I’m not gonna tell you.” Heat rushed up to your cheeks at her question, memories of the night before flooded in.

“Come on! Tell me. Did he at least make you come?” Izzy prodded, clearly determined to make you blush like a little girl.

“Twice.” you admitted, giggling when she whistled dramatically, glad that you had her with you even though she wasn’t exactly thrilled about the whole thing with Tony Stark.

.

Your next visit to Stark Tower was in a professional capacity. Well, almost.

It was the day of the photoshoot and you had arrived punctually, a familiar good-nervous energy buzzing in your veins. Happy Hogan greeted you again, this time introducing you to the people involved in the magazine photoshoot.

While you and the creative director had a chat, you were told Tony was getting ready for his first look. They wanted a few shots of him individually and the rest in his research and development lab, one which you were yet to see.

“Miss Y/L/N?” your head snapped up at the source of your name being called, it was Tony’s assistant Natalie, whom you had exchanged emails with in the past few days. She was a tall, beautiful woman and if you had to bet, was your age.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Stark has requested to see you.”

You tried to avoid the raised eyebrows you got as you followed her to the changing room. When she left, Tony pulled you inside, almost making you yelp.

You weren’t the least bit surprised when you saw him but the tailored charcoal suit, blue under shirt and matching tie made him look irresistibly handsome. And of course, he knew it.

“You requested for me.” you murmured, your pulse racing as he sauntered closer, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m in a bit of a situation, Miss Y/L/N and I was hoping you could help.” he smirked, letting you feel what the ‘situation’ was.

“With a whole crew waiting? Mr. Stark, you're terribly unprofessional.” you tutted, skimming your fingers over his crotch, smirking yourself when his cock reacted to your touch.

You had been texting back and forth over the past few days, most of those conversations had a tendency to take a sexual turn, not that you were complaining. It felt like your little secret that nobody knew, it was thrilling.

Dropping to your knees, you held his gaze while undoing his pants, his coffee brown eyes darkened at the sight as his cock sprung free of its constraints.

“Be a good girl and take me in your mouth.”

Heat pooled between your legs at his words as you complied, desire coursing freely as he watched your hand wrap itself around the base while your warmth coated his tip. You heard him hiss as you took more of him in, his fingers finding purchase in your hair, keeping their grip firm.

“That’s it.”

He reached the back of your throat, now fully erect as you began bringing him pleasure with your mouth, one of your hands finding their way to cup his balls. An ex-boyfriend of yours had complimented your skills for giving head, you knew just what to do to drive them insane. Although you never went all the way with him, you had done some fun stuff.

Tony had to grab onto the back of a chair as you increased momentum, working your hand and mouth in tandem while swirling your tongue around his tip, tasting his salty eagerness.

“Fuck. You’re not as innocent as you play, are you sweetheart?” he was panting, his hold on your hair tighter now as he felt his hips stutter.

Your panties were damp hearing Tony’s little grunts and whines as you brought him closer to the edge, a sense of power taking over you at the sight of this witty businessman completely at your mercy.

With pre-cum leaking, Tony knew it wouldn’t be long now, especially when he saw you press your thighs together, knowing you were enjoying it as much as he was.

“Stop if you don’t want me to come in your mouth, Y/N.” he warned, closing his eyes as his muscles twitched.

You didn’t stop. You wanted it. All of him. As you caressed his balls some more, you felt them tighten before his cock twitched in your mouth, his warm cum shooting at the back of your throat in ropes. Cursing under his breath, Tony pulled you up to crash his lips against yours, tasting himself mixed with your minty breath.

There was a knock on the door that startled you both, making you grin like a couple of naughty kids who had almost been caught.

“I’m returning the favor. Later.” he promised with a final kiss before straightening up and allowing you to step out first, making up some excuse which his poor assistant bought.

Tony was a natural when it came to facing the camera, you figured he had been doing it for years since he was in the public eye almost all his life. Still his presence commanded attention, and your camera captured every bit of his charisma perfectly as he posed for you. He would occasionally come over to look at the computer, under pretense of wanting to get the shot right but his wandering hands had other intentions.

When you moved locations down to his lab, you couldn’t help but look around the space that made him Tony Stark. It was quite evident that spent a lot of his time in the lab. It had a tiny kitchen, a sofa in the far corner, cars and bikes you couldn’t name but were sure cost millions of dollars along with workstations that looked right out of a sci-fi movie.

You saw his demeanor change in the lab, like he was in his natural habitat. This part of the photoshoot included bits of the interview and he went about answering questions while you captured some candid moments.

There was a collective round of applause when it was done, the director was happy with the results and as were you. The pictures had turned out amazing, the creative director even had a couple of offers for you which you were elated about.

“Now about that reward, Miss Y/L/N.” Tony pulled your back against his chest as you put the last of your equipment away, trailing light kisses along your neck. You were thankful the room was deserted as his hands slipped under your skirt, grazing up your thighs slowly.

“Wait, what time is it?” you asked abruptly after your eyes had landed on the calendar that let you know what day it was.

“Six o’clock, why?”

“Shit! It’s my mom’s birthday and I’m supposed to be there for movie night. It’s a family tradition.” you sighed, turning around in his arms as he rubbed your arms comfortingly.

“Let me drive you there.” he offered.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Tony. She’ll get suspicious and it won’t end well.”

Knowing your mother, she would pester you for the rest of the night and you wanted to avoid that at all costs. Besides, you hadn’t had ‘the talk’ with Tony yet, you weren’t sure if you were a couple at all or this was just a casual fling. You leaned your forehead against his chest and let out a groan.

“I guess we could go separately and waste fuel if that’s what you want.”

You frowned up at him, not understanding what he meant before he sent you a knowing look.

“They’ve invited you?”

“I am quite popular with them, you know..”

He was right, your parents and him were quite close, he had been a part of most of the celebrations back home and vice-versa. You were anxious about arriving at the party with him but then Tony’s excuse sounded convincing, you were already at his place for the photoshoot and he just happened to offer you a ride.

You agreed, even approved the bottle of wine he had got for your mother, it was one of her favourites; your present was already at the house, in your studio. You had a ‘then and now’ set of pictures on a digital frame that you finalized as a gift.

It was your Dad who opened the door when you two arrived, crushing you in a hug before doing the same with Tony, not a single question about how and why you had come in together. That was good, you thought. Your mother however, needed the explanation you had prepared for.

“Happy birthday, Jen. Forty one looks great on you.” Tony kissed her cheek, handing her the bottle while you choked into a bout of coughs. Even though you were aware, it just hit you that the man you had slept with was five years older than your Mom.

“You okay, Y/N?” she frowned, accepting the hug you gave her even though she wasn’t satisfied with the quick thumbs-up you gave her.

A few of your mom’s close friends were invited, along with the Chaneys which meant Sebastian was probably here too. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity if he knew you were coming.

As you fixed yourself a glass of wine, you overheard Tony go on about how well the photoshoot went and how impressed he was with your skills, making your father’s chest flare with pride for his favourite child. You heard him ask about someone named Pepper, which made Tony tense for a second, his eyes flitting over yours before he gave your father a brief answer.

“Hey! You made it!” a familiar voice made you turn around, staring back was Sebastian waiting to wrap you in a hug which he did before you had a chance to respond.

“I mean it is my Mom’s birthday, I had to.”

“Heard you came with Tony Stark.”

Of course.

“Uh yeah, I was at Stark tower for a photoshoot.” there was a tone of irritation in your voice, but Sebastian hadn’t caught on. It was like he chose to overlook each time you denied his advances.

“I’ll save you a spot for movie night.” he winked, giving your shoulder a squeeze before leaving you to your thoughts in the kitchen.

After cake and dinner, you grabbed extra pillows and blankets for everyone while Sebastian and your Dad arranged some chairs and beanbags in the living room. Sebastian had secured his spot on one corner of the sofa, already saving the seat next to him for you while you searched for Tony, somehow wanting to sit next to him.

Your phone rang, revealing it was Isabelle who was calling, making you excuse yourself to attend it in the kitchen. Filling her in on the latest updates, you poured yourself another glass of wine while Tony walked in shortly after, to have his refill of whiskey.

“Don’t be late.” he whispered against your ear as he passed, causing Izzy to gasp on the other side before she bombarded you with questions. When the call ended, you stopped in your tracks looking at the arrangement.

Your Mom and Dad sat on chairs laid just ahead of the couch, Sebastian sat on one side of the sofa while Tony sat on the other, both expectantly looking at you, having left a seat for you right in the middle.

This would be very interesting.

Movie nights always started with the first movie your parents saw together, on their first date. As the lights were turned out, you made yourself comfortable between the two men, crossing your legs on the table in front of the couch. There was ample space to accommodate three people on it and yet you had chosen to sit a little closer to Tony than Sebastian.

You stole glances on your left often, draping a blanket across your legs as it got a little colder, not realizing Tony was waiting for you to do just that.

The gasp that almost escaped your lips could have easily blown your cover but thankfully you realized it was only Tony whose hand had innocently made its way over to your thigh, gently grazing your skin there making your skirt ride up.

As it moved to skim across your inner thigh, you shot him a warning look only to be met with a smirk. Adjusting the blanket, you folded your other leg so it wouldn’t reveal what was going underneath as Tony’s fingers brushed over your clothed pussy.

“Told you I would return the favour somehow. Now, you can be quiet for me, can’t you?”

He leaned over to press his lips against your ear, while the others remained blissfully unaware of it. You nodded, keeping your eyes trained on the tv as he slid your underwear aside to feel your moist folds.

The grip you held on the soft blanket tightened as Tony dipped a finger inside your entrance, making your breath hitch. Slowly he dragged it along your walls, massaging them while his thumb toyed with your clit, reveling in your predicament.

If anyone were to turn their heads and look your way, it would mean trouble. But the thrill of it was unparalleled, here you were sitting with your family on movie night while being fingered under the blanket but none other than Tony Stark.

You almost let a moan slip out when he added another finger to the party, pumping it in and out of your drenched pussy. Your breathing was erratic and you prayed to God nobody would notice. But someone did.

Sebastian.

“You alright, Y/N?”

He whispered, placing a hand on your shoulder while Tony’s ministrations didn’t stop.

“Y-yeah I’m okay. Just watch the movie, Seb.” You managed to whisper back, gripping Tony’s right hand under the fabric as you felt yourself nearing the edge.

The movie worked in your favour as a fight ensued on the screen, loud blasts and punches echoed through the speakers, giving you enough cover as you let go, quietly whimpering as your orgasm washed over you, making you clench around Tony’s fingers.

“Such a good girl.” His praise sent tingles down your spine as he pressed a kiss against your hair. Tony retracted his fingers that were glistening with your arousal, adjusted your clothing and went back to focusing on the movie as if nothing had happened.

By the time credits rolled in, your father had already passed out, as had Sebastian, leaving you, Tony and your mother. She had convinced him to stay the night and leave in the morning as it was late & since he was your ride back, you would crash in your room too.

Which only meant one thing. The night wasn’t over yet.

Maybe it was the third glass of wine or the rush of adrenaline but once you were back in your room, you had put on skimpiest lingerie from your wardrobe and laid on your side.

The doorknob twisted and you heard the lock click shut softly, a presence that made your thighs clench stood behind you, taking in your form. Moonlight shone through your open window, casting an ethereal glow as you lay on your side, curves on display for the man who was drinking you in like a parched soul. Delicate lace that barely covered your bits made his pants constrict, you heard the bed dip under his weight before his arms went around you, pulling you back against him.

“Do you sleep like this everyday?”

His whisper made you press your ass against his crotch, looking over his shoulder you shook your head with a sly smile and reached back to palm his cock.

“Only for you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony cursed under his breath, his lips attached to your neck while cupping your breasts, pushing his erection against your hand. He could definitely get used to you calling him ’Mr. Stark’.

“See how hard you make me, sweetheart?”

You had to swallow a needy whimper as Tony’s fingers tweaked your nipples until they hardened and admired the way your body was so responsive to his touch. The effect he had on you was evident, goose pimples on flushed skin as his hands roamed over your flesh, desire pooled between your legs that had already ruined your panties.

Your head fell back as Tony found your wetness, grunting against your ear while gathering it on his fingers.

“So wet for me, princess.”

The act felt so incredibly thrilling, it was like a new kink had been unlocked. Walls were thin and you could get caught any time, and your parents weren’t the heaviest of sleepers.

In the quiet of your room, you could hear wet, squelching noises as Tony’s fingers stretched you open, making it harder and harder for you to not make a sound.

“Please..” you whimpered, the urgency in your voice made him chuckle.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me, Tony.”

He could come at the sight you like this alone, desperate and writhing under his touch.

“I don’t have a condom with me, sweetheart. You’ll have to take me bare.”

Oh you were more than ready for that.

You didn’t need words as you reached back to undo his zipper, making him nip at your skin playfully. Freeing his cock, Tony gave himself a few pumps, gathering the slick on his tip before lifting your leg slightly so he could take you from behind.

A deep sound reverberated from his chest as he bottomed out, sheathed in your tight warmth while you let out a wanton moan.

“Shh. We don’t want to get caught, do we?”

As he began to move, you gripped the sheets under you, meeting his thrust as it felt different this time around. You felt his cock dragging along your walls, the blunt tip brushing against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. The bed creaked and settled under the weight and movement as you let out yet another sigh, making Tony stuff your mouth with his fingers. You tasted your arousal on them, sucking on them needily as he impaled you, muffling the sounds you were making.

His muscles tensed and cock twitched, letting him know he was close as your walls fluttered around him, leaving you shuddering in his arms as you came.

“Fuck, Y/N. You did so well for me.” His breath was hot against your ear as you came down from your high, clenching around his length before he pulled out, squeezing the tip of his length right before he spilled his seed across your ass, painting your skin white with his warm cum.

Naughty smiles adorned your faces as you exchanged kisses, like horny teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. You hadn’t bothered to clean up while Tony tucked himself back in his pants, standing over you and giving you a little slap on your ass.

“Clean up, dirty girl.” he chided, walking out of your room and shutting the door behind him as sneakily as he had come in.

Your phone had run out of battery by the time Tony dropped you home. After a shower, you plugged it in and it began ringing with a thousand notifications, making you frown and check to see the source.

They were all from Izzy.

Opening the last one you took a seat on the couch, not realizing what a good decision it was to sit down as you read the message.

Y/N, where are you? Tony Stark is engaged to marry Pepper Potts. Call me.

…

It had been two hours since you spoke to Isabelle, processing the information that was dumped on you.

He was engaged. To a woman named Pepper Potts. You recalled your father mentioning her name the other night. A web search about her revealed she had started out as Tony’s assistant, worked very closely with him for years before she became an integral part of Stark Industries. She now worked closely with his business advisor and had apparently been dating her boss for longer than the media was even made aware.

He was engaged. And you had slept with him. Twice. The news was all over the internet after the announcement was made not too long ago. An official statement released to the press that sent the news channels in a frenzy and you into a shock.

Why had Tony kept this from you? Why hadn’t you asked it before getting involved? Why did it never occur to you? Why did he never bring it up? More importantly, what else was he lying about?

As if on cue, your phone rang. It was him. You watched it ring until it stopped, it happened a few more times. As much as you wanted answers, you couldn’t help but feel a little cheated. Angry. Even hurt.

Your phone buzzed again. He had sent you a message.

Let me explain this, Y/N. Please call me.

Reading it over and over, you paced about your living room, unsure of what to do. Izzy had been right. This was way too complicated.

Congratulations on your engagement Mr. Stark.

You hit send and turned your phone off, throwing it on the sofa before storming in your bathroom for a much needed bath. You need time to think. And you knew one thing for certain.

You needed to stay the hell away from Tony Stark.

[poison-ives777]

⚠️Ofmd S2 spoilers ahead⚠️

I’m just gonna say it:

Season 2 was painfully rushed. I didn’t wanna admit that fault, but it REALLY damaged the quality of the show. Part of what made S1 so great was watching the slow and steady character development and story arcs. We developed attachments to the characters because we saw them go through everything leading up to the end.

This entire season has had abrupt changes in character development (especially with Izzy. I love that they made him more human, but he went from masochistically devoted to Edward to terrified of Edward all within the span of a time jump we didn’t even see.)

Ed and Stede’s relationship shifts way too abruptly. And I know them taking it fast is part of their arc, but it still felt like they were just trying to move from arc to arc within the span of one episode each.

I also hate how none of the sideplots really tie into the story on a deeper level. (They have amazing parallels to S1, but aren’t great plot-wise.) Not to mention they almost completely abandoning the relationship they built between Olu and Jim. (I love the polyamory aspect, don’t get me wrong. And I love that they don’t blatantly explain the polyamory / tokenize it. But, the way Jim was willing to just give away Olu to Zheng in episode seven, even if they and Archie couldn’t go with him, made me upset. Not to mention that at times, it feels more like they’re trying to write off Jim and Olu as fwb, but that may just be me. And the two of them didn’t get a lot of screen time in general compared to season 1.)

The parallels to season 1 and overall symbolism were amazing, and I do still like this season overall. But it really is heartbreaking how Max sacrificed the show’s quality all for the sake of profit. I know David could have done much better with more resources.

The main reason this upsets me so much is because not only does it hurt on a personal level (damaging the quality of my comfort media), but it’s also the perfect representation of how streaming is KILLING the quality of TV. S1 was a masterpiece. The whole show is a masterpiece. But TV productions can only work with so much. And streaming services aren’t willing to accommodate to the demands necessary to make real art.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Be gay, do piracy 🏴‍☠️🍊🧜‍♂️(for legal reasons, don’t actually do piracy)

[coldlovehotblood]

TROUBLE

you had wanted something more for so long, and izzy toys with you until you hit breaking point.

w/c: 4,446

warnings: drug use, mild and brief smut (more details here)

a/n: i can’t decide if it happy with this or not… but pls enjoy!! (thank you violet for being so patient😭)

Chess is a game of strategy: one of calculated back and forth, back and forth. White then black, white then black. There is no mercy, and so you have to be smart if you want to get anywhere.

Similarly, you and your best friend had this peculiar back and forth, back and forth. White then black, white then black. A strategic to and fro you have yet to name that had begun to toe the line of danger.

The only difference between the two is how a game is started. For chess, it can be a rather formal affair, but for you and Izzy’s, all it took was one look to initiate play.

Call it bedroom eyes if you want, but that look created a wildfire of twisted pleasure that could only stop by burning until theres nothing left to burn. The fire would show it’s ferocity through depraved actions taken by each player. The white of neutral friendship darkens at the flip of a switch.

It was so much more than a look of seduction, it was an invitation to let yourself go entirely. It was an opportunity to let loose every carnal desire, every twisted need that spreads like mould over your conscience, any sick fantasy that's made you drip. You play this teasing psychological push and pull and its the most deliciously torturous thing you’d ever experienced. Who are you kidding, anything is delicious if its him.

You and Izzy had broken the boundary of ‘just friends’ long ago. There were too many feelings involved to call it ‘friends with benefits’ either, and no one wanted to question it, so the two of you had spent those last few months walking a tightrope called ‘The Game’.

Neither of you let on if it was causing emotional turmoil of any kind, but on one particular night, things changed.

You had attended one of the band's shows and were pressed right up to the edge of the stage. Of course, you had chosen the side you knew Izzy would be standing on. You had decided not to tell him you were coming, so when the lights brightened fully and you caught his eye, a great smile came over his face as he played.

You were enjoying yourself. You were enjoying watching him perform along with the others. He continuously looked over to you with that smile of his, and when he did, he’d strum his guitar a little harder, fall into the beat of the song a little further, and gradually he lost himself to the music. When he sang along with Axl, his voice was as sultry as always. You couldn't help how your cheeks reddened when you heard it.

Izzy had always belonged to the stage, it was where he was most in his element. He had always stuck out to you more that the rest, shone a little brighter while performing alongside his bandmates. You knew exactly why, but didn't dare say it out loud and often even to yourself, as you pushed the thought away by instinct at that point.

You watched him walk all over the stage like he owned it, because he did. The unit Guns and Roses took over every stage they stood upon and blessed it with their flash flood of talent. There was no way everyone else in the crowd wasn't falling over themselves for him.

Heartthrob piece of shit.

You watched him saunter and strut up and down the stage brazenly, knowing how it made him look.

That’s something you couldn’t stand about him: the fact his cockiness was absolutely justified. Who wouldn't be proud to show off their skills when they are that good? It was both infuriating and mesmerising. As much as you teased him for thinking he was so great, he genuinely was fucking brilliant. The way his hand slid over the fret bar, knowing exactly where to go without a second thought. The way his fingers plucked away with precise strength and speed. It was incredible to watch.

He looked over to you and saw you staring. He wasn't totally sure what it was that had you so gripped, but he came over and sat down right in front of you, high-fiving some lucky people on the way.

He had settled himself directly in front of you, legs hanging off the stage's edge. So close you could smell his cologne and watch each bead of sweat trail down his skin.

"What are you doing here?" you shouted over the crowds roars.

"What are you doing here?" he replied, "'cause I'm doing my job."

"Well I don't know who you are, but I must say, your playing is great."

"Just great? ‘S that all I'm getting from you, doll?"

Doll.

Your gut curled.

"Excuse me?"

"Got a problem, sweetheart?"

You wanted to scream 'you're no fair' right in his face with the whole crowd watching because he knew what he was doing, but all you could do was gaze at him with a slightly dazed expression as your cheeks heated up for the umpteenth time that night.

You looked right into his eyes, lips slightly parted, and blinked slowly.

A smug, knowing grin took over his face. One that only you would know the meaning of.

The game had started.

He hopped up and continued playing, and the rest of the show went as usual, but he was being a bit more adventurous. A bit more annoying. He had sat down on the other side of the stage and tucked another woman’s hair behind her ear, smiling all silly and knowing at her. He knew what buttons to press a bit too well. He knew you too well, too intimately. He knew what got you going and what pissed you off the most.

Once the show had been closed, you stormed through the venue to the dressing rooms. There was no resistance from security; they knew your face. As you went down each hallway, your anger bubbled more and more in your stomach where that curl was felt earlier.

Bursting into the dressing room, Axl laughed and punched Izzy’s shoulder.

“Ooo someones in trouble.”

“Mmh,” you hummed, not even looking his way, lasering on Izzy only.

You motioned for him to move.

“Get up.”

“No.”

“Yes. Up.”

“No, thank you.”

He was impossible. You walked out, slamming the door behind you.

The night hadn't even properly started yet and he already had you fired up, ready to punch a wall.

You had almost reached the end of the hall when you heard a door open and close behind you, and then he was there, grabbing your wrist, with the same smirk he’d had plastered over his face all night.

“Come, honey.”

You seethed at him.

“No. I can’t look at you.”

“I doubt that.”

He ever so gently guided you back down the hall. However much you hated him in the moment, you could never deny him. No matter how hard you tried. He brought you to another room, a separate dressing room, and locked the door, sitting you down on a couch pressed against the wall.

He sat beside you. You turned away.

“What’s wrong?”

“You know what the fuck is wrong, don't play dumb.”

“I wont lie to you, I'm on a great adrenaline high right now, so you're gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

You huffed, curling into the arm of the sofa, putting distance between the two of you.

“I thought you said we wouldn't bring others into this—” you paused, thinking of what to call it, “This thing we have.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“But we arent exclusive, right?”

You stopped playing with the hem of your skirt to look him dead in the eyes.

“You said you weren’t interested in a relationship, but said that no one could get in the way of us. Make your mind up.”

It was Izzy’s turn to pause.

“I guess I did, but just because I was flirting with someone else doesn't mean I want a relationship with them, or that I was breaking the rules.”

His eyes lit up with realisation when you glared at him.

“You’re jealous, arent you?”

You scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh you so are.”

You got up from your seat and started pacing the room, looking at the floor to avoid seeing his smug face in any of the mirrors.

“I am not jealous.”

“I knew you could be, but this bad? Damn, if I had known it riled you up this much, I would've done it a lot sooner,” he said with a laugh, “And more often.”

“But that's just it. I don’t want you to. It pisses me off beyond belief to see you looking at anyone else with the eyes you look at me with.”

“But this is what we are, isn't it? We push and pull. It’s how we’ve always been.”

There was the truth, and it stung to hear it said out loud where you couldn't escape. Over the months this ‘game’ had spanned, you had toyed with the idea of something more serious with him. Something more significant. Because when the round had ended and the two of you were left with the afterglow, things felt so easy, and as if they could be normal. With the shape of your bodies resting against each other like jigsaw pieces, it felt like everything was in it’s rightful place. There was a warmth that settled in both of your stomachs and drew you closer, both physically and maybe metaphysically. And when your legs tangled and chests touched as gold started to seep through the curtains with daybreak, it was as if your souls had tethered.

But it was nothing serious. At least, that's what he kept saying. Even though, when shitfaced drunk, he said sweet things and kissed you softer than usual. Even though, when he was shot up on ridiculous amounts of heroin, he held you close and looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky. Even though, when he tried to snort so much it clogged his nose, he always looked out for you and made sure you were alright and safe. With the amount of teasing his bandmates did, you'd think the two of you were together, but that was far from the truth, wasn't it?

It was in that moment you realised that push and pull had slowly bisected you without your knowlege, the halves so close to equal it was infuriating. It had split a ravine in you, leaving enough space for a nasty feeling to fester and feed on your emotional whiplash.

“What if I don’t want it to be push and pull, Izzy?” you hissed, “What if I wanted to be yours?”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Aren’t you?”

…Was he serious?

“You’re joking.”

“About what?”

“But you literally said you weren't looking for anything serious.”

You stormed over to the makeup table on the other side of the room and began tearing it apart in search of something to hide the fact tears were gathering in your lower lash line.

“Well yeah, but I never said I didn't want anything with you.”

You stopped your furious rifling through the drawers and looked at him behind you in the mirror.

You couldn't believe him as he sat there, one leg over the other, leaning as nonchalant as ever on the arm of the sofa as if he didnt just drop a bomb on you.

“You're unbelievably difficult, and it's fucking infuriating.”

“You love it.”

You leapt up from the makeup chair and stood over him, getting right up in his face, so close you could feel his steady breaths on your skin.

“You better be serious or I swear to God above, Jeffery, I will ruin your life.”

He looked straight into your blazing eyes with his own half-glassy gaze.

“I’m serious.”

You raised your brow, not sure if you should believe him in such a state- still letting the post-show adrenaline fizzle out at its own pace, still letting the screams of the crowd feed his ego by letting them echo in his head, but he reached up, held your cheek and repeated himself with more conviction. More finality.

“I’m fucking serious, ok?”

He leaned in and kissed you gently with such reverence and care. Every flame within you was snuffed.

“I swear im serious,” he whispered.

That’s all it took for you to lean in yourself and kiss him back. His lips were smooth and he tasted like sweet whiskey as your mouths moved together. He reached out to your hips and pulled you closer till you were sitting snug on his lap. The feeling of his solid body against yours made you feel a bit more firmly tied to your own. He centred you without trying. Your fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck and he giggled into your lips before pulling away.

“Where’d you go, tiger, hm? What happened to that heat?”

“Why don’t you say my name for once, or have you forgotten it after collecting so many other sluts?”

You chased his lips but he pulled his head away, letting out a full laugh at your words, head tilting back to rest against the sofa. He said your name. It sounded good from him. He made it sound nicer than you thought it was. His low timbre shaped it into something beautiful for you. But your name or not, anything sounded beautiful from him.

“As if i could forget it. You’re my favourite one. You get special slut perks.”

“Ew, stop making me sound bad.”

“If you’re bad then what am I?”

“A man. Men are awful.”

“Very funny.”

This time he grabbed your hair and tugged you closer. The rougher kiss made you moan into his mouth, and to such a sound he let out a pleased one of his own.

“You act like ‘slut’ doesn't get you wet,” he teased.

“Because it doesn’t.”

He suddenly let go of your hip and slithered his hand up your thighs, under your skirt and straight to your core, where he gently touched over your clothed heat.

“These soaked panties beg to differ.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“No.”

“Please,” you forced out impatiently.

“Say it like you mean it.”

A huff escaped you.

“Please.”

He gave you a pointed look. This was him testing the waters, trying to figure out what exactly you needed from him. He knew there were times when you wanted to go slow and let time drip steady like treacle, and times when you wanted to go impossibly fast and rough, to the point where every touch left stinging skin. He knew you inside and out. back to front.

“Please, Izzy,” your voice edged on a whine. You looked at him, eyes wide and needy, body open and expecting.

He had you sussed. He leaned in and gave you what you wanted.

You didn't understand how the taste of jack daniels lingered in his mouth still as he kissed you deeper. It was one of the only constants of the man. Something you had come to associate with him. A fact so deeply ingrained into your mind that if you were in a bar and the sweet smell you knew so well hit your nose, you walked out. It was strange and maybe a bit insane how loyal you were to this man, but, as scary as it was to admit to even yourself, you were head over heels for the fucker and wanted nothing else.

Was it avoidance, or devotion?

He slid his hands over the swell of your ass and pushed up from under your skirt again, making it bunch at your waist. You groaned at the sensation of cold skin meeting yours. You started to grind into him a bit and he let out an appreciative noise in return before pulling away again, lifting your hips and putting you on one knee.

“Hold on, baby,” he said as you opened your mouth in protest. He quickly unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans and reached into his boxers. You assumed he was going for his half-hard dick with impatience, but much sooner than you expected, he retracted his hand with a small, clear bag in clutch. You rolled your eyes in response, feeling almost fond. Only he would be desperate enough to hide extra in his boxers, of all places. it was sad. But you were his, didn't he say?

“What’s that?” you ask, starting up a slow grind into his thigh again in an attempt to feed the heat boiling in your core.

“’S a speedball,” he muttered as he then tested each front pocket of his jeans to produce a dollar bill.

You stopped grinding to look at him with worry. A speedball was… The last thing you wanted to see him doing. The concoction was a catalyst that had sent too many people you knew into awful states and more often than not, lead them to quick deaths. It was dangerous, and you didn't like that he was just casually fishing this out of his jeans. He saw the look on your face and rolled his own eyes.

“What? it’s not even that much.”

He was right. There was only a little bit in the bag, but that didn't make it feel any safer. You didn't know what amount looked safe and you highly doubted he knew either.

“Where did you even get it?”

“Don't worry about it. Wanna split?” he held it between two fingers and gestured towards you, a sly smile settling on his face. You shook your head in response. His face fell a bit. “It should be safe enough. Sure you don't want a little bit? I'm here, I wouldn't let you go overboard.”

“I really don't think you should take it, Iz, speedballs aren't safe—”

“And coke or dope is? It’s all the same stuff, and look at the size of this fuckin’ thing. It’s nothing.”

Your face twisted up further in disagreement and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Fine then, I’ll have it. Forget I asked. C’mere,” he huffed and began lifting you again when you tensed.

“What? I'm not taking any—”

“I’m snorting off of your collar,” he pushed out, visibly becoming more irritated, grabbing your hips tighter “Now come here.”

“Izzy—”

“Just let me take this shit so it’s gone!” he forcefully lifted you to sit fully in his lap.

The sudden shift left you kind of shaken. You’d never seen him get so worked up over drugs, but then again, you had never stopped him from taking anything before. His habitual substance use should've bothered you more than it did, but you were just as bad, normally joining in, which was why he offered in the first place, but knowing he was going to take something you knew was so dangerous set you on edge and made every nerve in your body spark a little bit. Enough to get through the thickening fog of lust. You just hated the fact you cared so much about someone who cared so little.

He began roughly pushing your leather jacket off your shoulders and threw it across the room.

“Why are you being so difficult, baby? This could be so easy,” he whispered harshly into one ear as his hands reached for the hem of your white shirt to push it up your torso. You helped him by pulling it the rest of the way, and his face fell into gorgeous content once again. You decided then that he’d be fine. This was just a one-off of him trying out a different kind of high; a trial to see how a different kind of punch settles.

He made his usual path up and down your body. Admiring the way your lace bra adorned your chest, admiring the way your tits fell out of it when he unclipped it hastily, breaking a few of the clasps in the process. He sucked a harsh bruise into the crook of your neck and brought his hands beneath your thighs to lift you as he stood up, turning and depositing you onto the sofa again and pushing you, softer than expected, by your shoulders to lie down.

He was a sight for sore eyes normally, but from beneath him, where the sparse light from one of the Hollywood mirrors haloed him and obscured his face slightly, he made your heart race.

He loomed over you as he opened the little bag and tapped most of its contents into the dip of your collar bone. You barely felt the powder as it fell onto your skin. Izzy had this glint in his eye as he straightened out a line. A dangerous one that made your stomach tighten a bit. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, but had it in front of him now.

Once he’d rolled up the bill, you watched him lean down, eyes locked onto yours as he brought the self made tooter to his nose before his head dipped and he inhaled sharply. The bill tickled your skin as he moved it. He sat up and threw his head back with a breathy groan.

“Finally,” Izzy whispered.

You weren't happy, but you couldn't stay mad at the sight before you.

His finger traced where the line had been and he tapped your jaw with his other hand.

“Open.”

“I told you I'm not-”

“Open that fucking mouth,” he spat, hand now clamping either side of your face, squishing your cheeks to part your lips. He shoved the finger he’d brought along your collar under your top lip and dragged it along your gums. You nipped his finger with your teeth as you tried to shake your head free. He retracted his finger with a hiss, let go of your face and slapped you.

Hard.

“I’m being nice and cleaning up. Let me be nice and we’ll have a good time.”

“Are you deaf or something?!” you cried.

“No, and neither are you, last time I checked. Listen to me next time.”

He rolled his eyes and moved down your body again, this time taking off your lace underwear.

“You’re being an ass, Izzy.”

“Okay?”

His attitude to this whole thing was confusing.

And scary.

Sure, you were often rough with each other. Sure, you and him took drugs together all the time. The difference was that all of it had been loosely agreed. This sudden introduction to a new drug had put you on edge. This was too new, and he was being so careless.

He moved between your thighs and pushed your legs up a bit, putting you on full display for him.

“You’re going to listen to me this time, and listen well,” he spoke, looking at you sternly, “I’m going to eat you out and you’re going to be quiet.”

You nodded meekly.

His head dipped towards your dripping heat.

Knock, knock, knock.

Izzy tensed up immediately. You felt him begin to pant from between your legs as a muffled voice came from outside.

“Izzy? You there? We gotta go, man. They won’t let us stay here any longer cause they say we’ll do shit… Or something… I don’t get the fuss but we gotta take our shit and go.”

You recognised the voice as Slash, but Izzy seemed to not, looking at the closed door with wide eyes. The knocks now turned into bangs.

“Are you here or not? We’ve looked everywhere-“

“He’s here!” you called innocently, “just give us a sec-“ you were cut off by a hand coming over your mouth. Izzy scrambled over you and reached for his back pocket, pulling out a switchblade. He retracted the blade and held it in front of him, looking extremely unsure. You could see the quick rise and fall of his chest above you.

“No way you guys are fucking in this dump- Hurry up!” Slash shouted.

The sound of footsteps faded but Izzy still stared at the door, back taut like a bowstring, hand holding the switchblade shaking slightly. You very carefully moved his hand off of your mouth and said his name softly.

His head snapped towards you and he harshly whispered, “Shut the fuck up! They’re going to hear you.”

“That was Slash, baby.”

“No, it wasn’t. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me right now.”

You reached up to touch his face, and he flinched as your hand met his clammy forehead.

“It was. It’s okay. Calm down.”

You guessed it must have been given just cocaine in the little bag, not a speedball per his request. His paranoia only came on so strong when coke was in his system.

He leaned into your touch and sagged a bit, tears forming.

“It was them, I know it was.”

“It wasn’t. I promise,” you said gently as you sat up and pulled him close to your bare chest, “It’s just me and you.”

His hands dropped to his sides and he just let you hold him for a bit as he twitched. He got like this when he got scared.

You had to pick up his pieces once again.

You’d do it as many times as you had to.

You guided him to sit properly on the couch and you got up, looking for your clothes and dressing again. As you looked over at him once more, you realised that this couldn’t go on. Both the stupid game and his drug habits.

You shook yourself out after hastily tucking your shirt into your skirt, feeling that strange blurred alertness that came with coke yourself.

As you guided him out of the dressing room to the waiting group, holding his sweaty hand tight, you decided that you would have a serious talk with him about this.

About you both.

Because he was in trouble, and, in turn, so were you.

[bookshelfdreams]

Saw a Take earlier today like "Ed stans have only 1 argument and it's accusing everyone who likes Izzy of being problematic" or something to that effect

and it made me think "Nah babe, you're not problematic. You're just wrong."

And then I thought. Huh. Why do I think that?

It's a perfectly respectable thing to read a text in a way it wasn't intended to be read. In fact, "reading against the grain", doing critical readings, shifting perspectives when engaging with a text - all of thee are important skills! You can, and should, do feminist, antiracist, postcolonial, queer, etc readings of texts that were never intended to be read that way. Hell, all fandom (often) is, is doing queer readings! Ask the text uncomfortable questions it doesn't want to answer!

However. It's pretty difficult to do a queer reading when the text already is a queer narrative. The questions you would ask the text if you did a queer reading, or a reading focused on gender roles, or similar things - those are questions the text is already actively exploring.

If you want to do a subversive reading of a text that is already quite subversive - what do you end up with?

"What's the story like from Izzy's perspective?" is a question ofmd deliberately doesn't focus too much on because Izzy's perspective is the default and ofmd wants to challenge that. There's a reason the angry white man is the antagonist in this show, and if you ask "Okay, but could he be right though?" you're missing the point.

Or rather, you're turning everything that's interesting about ofmd back around. You're asking "Okay, but why don't we focus on a white perspective that strictly adheres to oppressive power structures?" of a narrative who already asked itself this question and gave the answer "Because that's been done enough and there are other stories worth telling."

And I think people are aware of that, which is how we end up with completely bizarre takes like "Izzy has the only queer character arc". He hasn't, but he has the only arc that a queer reading can be done on - for everyone else it's text, plain and simple. Refusing to engage with that text in favour of centering Izzy is basically doing a heteronormative reading without being willing to admit it to yourself.

And no, interpreting Izzy as a queer man doesn't change that.

[rocknrolldecadence]

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

just count your stars i’m home again

izzy calls you after an argument.

warnings: i don’t think there is any? drunkenness? being high?

a/n: this took forever cuz my phone has been glitching super bad recently (this is why the banner is low quality). also while i was writing this it was called ‘izzy stradlin is adam levine confirmed?’

it was late. the sun had set hours ago, casting los angeles in a deep black shadow with the city lights peeking through the darkness. the tv was on, and you flicked through every channel in search of something to take your mind off things. but it didn’t work. in fact, it made things worse, as you turned on MTV and were met with the ‘patience’ music video staring you in the face. you went to change the channel, but before you could, izzy showed up on screen. his gentle strumming of the guitar made you have to look away. you loved him, but he worried you so much.

you went on to the next channel, a shitty auctioneer’s show they only played in the late hours of the night. “this’ll have to do.” you said out loud, knowing there was no around to hear you. a bottle of jack stood on the kitchen counter. you hadn’t touched it since izzy had left, the image of him taking a swig right before he left burned into your memory. you tossed the idea of having some about in your head, but decided against it. who knows how he’d react?

hours passed, and izzy still hadn’t came home. you were about to give up hope for the night and go to bed when the phone rang. oh god. what’s happened this time? is izzy in trouble? did he caught with his drugs? has he been arrested? the questions ran through your mind a mile a minute. you practically jumped at the phone, scared to know what awaited you on the other end of the line.

“hey baby.” that low voice you loved so much greeted you.

“izzy? what the fuck? where the fuck have you been?” you interrogated him, a mix of anger and relief coursing inside you.

“jeez, you seem scared,” he laughed. “i’ve just been with the guys. writing and shit.”

“and getting high, i’m guessing?” you retorted. did he not care that he’d left you alone for two days, with no word of where he’d gone to?

“i’ve missed you baby.”

“seriously? you left me on my own for two days. i had no clue where you are. i still don’t!”

“i’m… at the whisky right now.”

of course he was.

“are you drunk?”

“does it matter..?”

you scoffed. that was all the confirmation you needed.

“i bet you’re high too, aren’t you?”

“look, babe, i’m sorry.”

“i don’t care if you’re sorry. that doesn’t change the fact you fucking walked out on me!” you snapped. you were relived to know he was okay, but god were you pissed off. there was no sincerity in his voice.

the line was silent for a moment. you waited.

“can you pick me up?”

“none of the guys can drive you home?”

“they’re all too drunk.”

“right,” you sighed. “be there soon.”

you got into your car and started driving to the Whisky A Go Go. It wasn’t very far away, but it felt like an eternity. you pulled up close by and saw izzy sitting by the payphone he had called you from, back pressed up against its stand. you sighed.

you got out of the car and walked up towards him. stopping just a bit in front of him, you said “cmon. get up.”

izzy looked up, staring at you with glassy eyes. clearly, he was too drunk and high to notice you before you started talking.

“huh?”

“i said get up. i’m taking you home.”

“oh… ok.“

that was all it took. izzy got up, albeit with difficulty, and walked over beside you to the car. he stumbled into the passenger seat and gave you a smile when you got in. despite his inebriated state, he was happy to see you. he always was.

as you drove home, he sobered up. and as he sipped on the week old bottle water that had been rattling away in the floor of the passenger seat, izzy realised what a complete dick he’d been. regret crept in quickly. he turned to look at you. through your peripheral vision, you saw him. izzy took a final sip of the water, and cleared his throat.

"hey, uh…”

you kept your eyes focused on the road. "what is it?”

"i’ve been an asshole. i’m really sorry.” izzy spoke. he actually seemed apologetic this time.

all you managed to say was "oh.”

"i feel really bad. it’s just- after our argument i was pissed off. and i know i coulda handled it better. sorry.”

you looked at him quickly. he seemed genuine, regret etched on his face. "it’s ok.”

"so you forgive me?”

"i do. just don’t try that shit again.”

"wanna go get takeout?”

"are you paying?”

"of course.”

[swiftsdelucaa]

Hello!

I was re-watching greys firsts seasons and saw that scene with izzie and george when she hugs him and says "i want you to be happy, if callie makes you happy then go be with callie".

So maybe you could could make a jackson avery finding out that his ex is getting married to alex karev and he feels like his world is falling apart?

Maybe they broke up because he was falling for kepner and she started hanging around with alex and he was like "i would never let you go if you were with me"

Alex and y/n are engame :)

❛ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Alex Karev x reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: Yes omg sorry I haven't died, I'm lowkey back now 😭 Hope you like it btw !

Since the day you and Alex decided to get married every day seemed to be so good for you. Believing it was still difficult, but indeed it was all real and you were so happy.

Alex Karev getting married? Hell, you must have really changed him. When you and him started to hang around and getting close he made you feel like the luckiest girl ever, which was difficult to believe. It was a moment where you were still feeling so bad from your last relationship.

Jackson had been one of the most important people in your life, of course you couldn't forget it. But he chose someone else. And that hurt you a lot.

You found so much comfort in Alex that actually you didn't even think was possible, but he suddenly became so important to you. At first it wasn't really easy, you knew he wasn't really a people's person, but you found a way with him and he was always the best with you.

The moment where everything started was maybe one of the cutest that you could've never forget. It was a late evening and you both have had a long ass shift; between random but nice talks he couldn't stop listening at you yapping even if he was so tired, he just loved that, he loved every simple little detail of you.

“Damn, I would never let you go if you were with me” those words had came out of his mouth in such a spontaneous way that you finally understood he was the one, well just the one you really needed. And look at you now.

However, the news had already spread in the whole hospital and everyone looked so excited for you two. Everyone but Jackson. You couldn't understand why as you both moved on, yet his reaction was so... cold. You decided not to touch the topic, after all it would have been useless. This was a new chapter of your life that you clearly wanted to enjoy.

When Jackson had heard about you and Alex he couldn't exactly describe what kind of feelings started to manifest inside him. All that you had was perfect and he screwed up everything, he knew that. And right now it seemed like if the idea of you with someone else was unacceptable.

Today you had to scrub in together in a surgery, it didn't bother you that much. Luckily for the whole time in that room everything stayed professional. Just silence and medical talks. Until the end of the operation.

“So” he started as you two were still scrubbing out “You and Karev...”

“What?” he did it. He had started with that and you couldn't believe that.

“Nothing, just... I'm actually happy for you guys. But don't you think you're rushing a bit too much?” he went straight to the point.

“No. He really loves me Jackson, and so do I” you simply replied. You could still feel his gaze on you. “And you are the last person I'd rather to talk about this honestly” you then said.

“I didn't mean anything else with that Y/n, I just want you to be happy. And if Alex makes you happy then go and be with Alex” his tone sounded really honest as he pronounced those words.

“Well, thanks, but I didn't need your permission. Like you didn't need mine to run to Kepner. But what matters now is that we are both happy I guess” you took off your scrub cap. “See you around” was the last thing you told him before leaving the room. As you walked out you let out a deep sighed, thinking about the last five minutes. You and Jackson never had a real conversation after the break up, so this felt almost right. Maybe you needed it.

Jackson watched you leave, knowing well he couldn't do or say anything else. He couldn't accept the fact he was losing you, but he had already lost you.

After your shift was done you came back home to Alex, who was already there. He smiled at you when he saw you walking in and got up from the couch. He greeted you with a soft kiss that you reciprocated. Then he looked at you, noticing a hint of overthinking in your face.

“Is everything ok?” he asked.

You looked at him, your lips curved into a smile as in that moment you were able to forget the whole day. “Yes... Just tired” you gave him another little kiss.

For the rest of the evening you've been laying in bed together and dicussing about some details for the wedding, you two had so many different ideas, but it was funny. That was definitely the best part of the day.