#and now I’ve got like five comments arguing about

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

The river song is a time lord people have found me again

[shina913]

A Very Patient Man | LJH

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie

Word count: 4.6k words

Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.

A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜

It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.

However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.

“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”

Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”

“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.

“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”

You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”

He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”

You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”

“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.

“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”

He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.

“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”

His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.

He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”

Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.

You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?

You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.

He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”

The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”

“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”

You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...

You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.

“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.

“It’s getting late.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.

“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”

He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.

“Alright. If you’re sure—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.

He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.

That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.

********************************************

A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.

After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.

You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.

Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.

After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.

The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.

Finally, he’s had enough.

“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.

“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”

You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.

“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.

“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.

“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”

He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”

You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”

“What about it?”

“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”

His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”

You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.

“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.

You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”

“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”

His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”

You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.

He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.

“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.

You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”

He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment.

Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.

Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. “How are you so chill about all this?”

He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”

“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.

You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”

His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.

********

You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?

“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”

“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”

You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”

“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”

You nod.

“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”

You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.

“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.

“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”

When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.

“Maybe we could start with kissing?”

“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.

You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.

When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.

Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.

Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.

He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”

“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.

“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”

You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”

“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”

Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.

“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.

“Play with them.”

His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.

He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.

His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.

You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.

His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.

One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.

His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.

He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.

It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.

“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”

His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Kiss me,” you choked out, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.

Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.

“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”

“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.

You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.

He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.

You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.

You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.

“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”

He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”

It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.

After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”

“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.

You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.

“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.

You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”

“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.

With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.

You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.

“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.

He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.

You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.

“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.

“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.

“You…s-sure…?”

You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.

Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”

He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”

********

After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.

“Are you okay?”

You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”

“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”

He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”

You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”

He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.

When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.

This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.

As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.

“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”

He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”

“You think so?”

He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”

You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

Interaction/feedback is appreciated but *not* required. But just in case you feel comfortable enough to comment or just say hello, my inbox 📩 is open 💜💎

[wonderjanga]

Marvel not Caring

I feel like the few times Billy needs to get something over with, he just doesn’t care. Like honestly, I’m going to connect this to my Marvel Compilations post. (In that post I just talked about how Marvel could be a clip farm and the potential vids he would have) Let’s say these are all from the 8 minutes and 47 seconds of the Big Red Cheese tweaking out vid. Cause why not?

One day, Marvel’s doing patrol. See, he wants to get it done with, hopefully with no major villain attacks happening, because Darla has a school play, and he wants to see her, even if she got cast as a tree. But of course, things didn’t go his way, especially just when he needs to start heading out for the play.

*vid opens up to Marvel floating in the sky looking down at a Female Villain*

Female Villain: *attacking people and causing general havoc*

Marvel: *looks around for any cameras and doesn’t see the one recording the vid*

Female Villain: *sees him and his about to do something*

Marvel: *winds hand back (as if he needed to) and backhands her like an abusive husband*

Any Nearby Civilians: *cover their mouths as they look away. A good chunk of them sped walked away*

Female Villain: *knocked the fuck out*

I’m telling you right now, a good chunk of the comments on that video were something along the lines of ““that’s not right,” I whisper to myself as I speed walk away” or ““You don’t hit a woman,” I think to myself as I step into the safety of my car and drive away.” All stuff like that.

The day after that…

Marvel: “I just ended the problem as soon as I could, guys! I don’t beat women!” Superman: “We know! We know, but did you have to it so… so ferociously?”

Marvel: “Ferociously?”

Flash: “Dude, you looked like you’ve been waiting to do that.”

Marvel: “I haven’t! It was just effective, and I was on a time crunch.”

Flash: “Time crunch?”

Marvel: “Yeah, I had to see this person I know go be in a play.”

Batman: “Hn. You could’ve just said you wanted to see your child’s play. I’ll admit I’ve done something similar when Robin was in a play of his own.”

Superman: “Yeah. If the play thing is true, that’s a valid reason for any father to do that.”

Marvel: *a little confused as to why they assumed Darla was his kid* “Uh, yeah. I didn’t want to miss it.”

Flash: “Who was it for by the way? Junior or Mary?”

Marvel: “Neither.”

*silence*

Marvel: “You guys don’t know her. She isn’t a hero.”

Flash: “Dude… you have another kid? Why do you never tell us these things about yourself??”

Then, there’s another clip of Junior and Marvel. Beast Boy recorded the audio for shiggles and hid behind a wall but was surprisingly met with:

Marvel: “Okay, you know what, Junior? I don’t care that you’re disabled. Put your hands up.”

Junior: “Dude, I am not fighting you. You’re stronger than me.”

Marvel: “So? You’re only a little bit weaker. If you paid Mary like five dollars, I’m sure she’d fight with you. Now anyways put your hands up.”

Junior: “She’s not even here! And, hey- hey- Stop that!”

A lot of crashes and bangs could be heard for about 30 seconds. The video then ended.

Then, there’s another clip of him and Mary sibling arguing, but of course, most people think that Cap’s her and Juniors dad. So, when they say certain things, people tend to view it more extremely.

Marvel and Mary: *arguing*

Marvel: *says something completely outlandish that you should absolutely not say to a child*

Mary: *barely blinks and says something right back*

Marvel: “Oh so help me Gods, if we weren’t related, I would scrape your face across the pavement.”

Mary: “Oh yeah? Well if we weren’t related, I would skin you with a butter knife!”

The two proceeded to continue arguing before they somehow make up mid insult and go get ice cream like nothing happened.

Bonus:

Black Adam and Marvel: *floating up in the sky*

Black Adam: “You know, you’ve never said anything remotely similar to that to me.”

Marvel: “What’re you talking about?”

Black Adam: “I would scrape your face across the pavement.”

Marvel: *nearly has a heart attack when he says that*

Black Adam: “You said that to the girl. You’ve shown more disdain for that girl than you have for I.”

Marvel: “Uhhhh…” *panicking cause he doesn’t know about the video*

Black Adam: “Do you… not take me seriously?”

Marvel: “No, no, no, of course I do!”

In this AU, Marvel doesn’t really throw much shade at his villains aside from the occasional comment and that’s it.

[willowsnook]

miscommunication

can I get a salami and lettuce wrap please? tyyyyy <3

oscar piastri x coworker!reader

she isn’t you

—————————————————-

“I just don’t understand why we’re making a switch so late in the season,” you complained to Lando as you walked through the halls of MTC with him.

“It’s because I’m a handful,” he said cheerfully and you rolled your eyes. “I’m trying not to be insulted right now by you, but you’re making it hard.”

Snorting, you looked over at him. You both had just been informed that, effective immediately, you would be his PR manager moving forward, and Oscar would be getting someone new.

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” you argued. “We spend so much time together anyways.”

“Oh, I know. You’re just upset you don’t get to be around your crush,” he said, and you stopped him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I do not have a crush on him,” you said, eyes narrowed. “We are just friends.”

Lando smirked and you knew he had you. Okay, so maybe you had a little crush on Oscar, but who could blame you? He was attentive, kind, and very easy on the eyes.

“Uh huhh,” he drawled. “Please, I think everyone is happy now that we don’t have to watch the two of you obliviously flirt with each other anymore.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, following him into the cafeteria. You spotted Oscar sitting at a table with an unfamiliar girl, listening intently to whatever she was saying.

You and Lando made your way over there, sitting down at the table.

“Hey guys,” Oscar said. “This is my new PR manager, Stacy.”

You introduced yourself before subtly sizing her up. She looked like she was a couple of years older than you but was very pretty, which irritated you. To make it worse, she had an Australian accent.

“Are you from Australia?” Lando asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, not too far from where Oscar is from,” she replied.

You felt a twinge of jealousy as Oscar's eyes lit up at the mention of his home country. He and Stacy immediately launched into a conversation about their shared experiences growing up in Australia, laughing at inside jokes you couldn't understand.

Lando caught your eye and raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your discomfort. You forced a smile and tried to focus on your lunch, but couldn't help glancing up at Oscar and Stacy every few seconds.

"So, how long have you been in PR?" you asked Stacy, trying to join the conversation.

"Oh, about five years now," she replied with a dazzling smile. "I've worked with a few different teams, but I'm really excited to be with McLaren. And of course, to work with Oscar."

She shot him a playful look, and he grinned back at her. Your stomach churned at the interaction and you stood up quickly, everyone looking at you in surprise.

“I just remembered that I have a meeting soon; I’ll catch you guys later,” you got out, and Lando shook his head in embarrassment for you.

—————————————————-

Lando actually was a handful to manage PR-wise, so your days were a little busier than they had been. You and Oscar hadn’t really talked much in the past couple of weeks, mostly because of how busy you were, and you were kind of avoiding him. It seems like every time you saw him, he was talking to Stacy and if you watched him smile at her one more time, you might die.

You had never been the jealous type, so these feelings were very confusing. You guys weren’t even dating, for God's sake.

It was after the sprint race in Brazil that you ran into Oscar as you had stepped out to see how bad it was raining.

“Hey, you looked good today,” you said and he smiled down at you.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I haven’t gotten to talk to you in a while.”

“Oh I know, I’ve been busy with Lando,” you said and he frowned.

“You two seem to be getting close,” he commented and you shrugged, turning back to watch the rain.

“He’s a handful.”

Oscar chuckled softly, leaning against the wall next to you. "Yeah, he can be. But he's a good guy."

You nodded, feeling the tension between you two. The silence stretched on, broken only by the patter of rain. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the awkwardness, but your mind was blank.

"So, how are you liking working with Lando?" Oscar finally asked, his voice careful.

You shrugged again. "It's fine. Different from working with you, of course."

"Different how?" he pressed, and you could feel his eyes on you.

"Just... different," you said lamely, not wanting to admit how much you missed working with him. "How's it going with Stacy?"

Oscar was quiet for a moment. "It's good. She's very professional."

"That's good," you replied, fiddling with your hands.

“I think they might move qualifying to tomorrow,” he said, and you nodded in agreement, seeing that the rain would not let up. Maybe we could grab something to eat when we get back to the hotel?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I’ll ask Lando if he wants to join, Stacy can come as well,” you said and his brows furrowed.

“Uhh-yeah, okay,” he said. You were too busy in your own head to hear the frustrated sigh he let out.

Dinner was torture for you as you watched Stacy shamelessly flirt with Oscar and you laid your head on Lando’s shoulder while watching the show. After that, you could tell something was irritating Oscar because anytime Lando said something, he either didn’t respond, glared at him, or gave a short reply. After paying the bill, you walked back with Lando, thinking about the night.

“What’d you do to piss him off?” You asked and Lando gave you an amused look.

“You didn’t notice the pattern?” He asked and your face scrunched up in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“He was perfectly fine until you leaned into me and then it was like a switch went off,” he said.

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” you muttered, not wanting to acknowledge any truth to that. “He was flirting with her all night, I don’t know why he would have cared.”

“She was flirting,” Lando corrected and you waved him off. “You drive me insane.”

“Likewise buddy.”

————————————————————————

Brazil on Sunday was a disaster, and Lando’s comments to the media that followed sent you into a spiral. You worked on a clarification statement for the rest of the night, and by the time it hit 10 p.m., you were exhausted. Finally, making it back to the hotel, you saw Oscar playing on his phone while waiting in the lobby.

“What are you still doing up?” You asked, moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“Waiting for you,” he said. “I knew you were going to be there late so I just put in a food order.”

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do that," you said softly.

Oscar shrugged, a small smile on his face. "I wanted to. It's been a rough day for everyone."

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion settle into your bones. "That's an understatement."

Just then, the hotel staff brought over a tray with covered dishes. Oscar thanked them and turned to you. "I hope you're hungry. I got us some pasta and garlic bread."

The smell of the food made your stomach growl, reminding you that you hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Starving, actually. Thank you, Oscar."

You both dug into the meal, eating in comfortable silence for a few minutes. It felt nice to just be with him, no distractions or other people around.

"So," Oscar said after a while, "how’s Lando?”

“Disaster,” you said sadly. “I called Max earlier to talk to him, I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Me either,” Oscar said thoughtfully. “He beats himself up way too much.”

“I agree,” you said. “How do you do it?”

“I know what’s in my control and what’s not,” he said and you nodded along. “And I also use the people around me to lean on.”

At the last part, he looked deep into your eyes, and you blushed, looking down at your food.

“I’ve been avoiding you,” you blurted out and he looked at you in surprise.

“I know,” he said, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t like seeing her with you,” you admitted, looking anywhere else.

“She’s my PR manager,” he said confused. “Are you jealous?”

You didn’t respond to that and the corners of Oscar’s mouth lifted slightly.

“You of all people know that I have to spend time with her,” he pressed, not realizing the real root of your jealousy.

“Of course I know that,” you snapped, frustrated. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I miss getting to hang out with you.”

“She isn’t you,” he said, reaching out for your hand. “We have a good relationship, but it’s not like ours. I’m still here.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words and the gentle touch of his hand on yours. For a moment, you just stared at your intertwined fingers, trying to process what was happening.

You felt a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "I've been so stupid," you said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I let my jealousy get the best of me and I pushed you away."

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "I probably should have made time for you sooner.”

“You’re my best friend Oscar,” you said, pussying out of confessing, and for a second, a deflated look flashed on his face before he recovered.

“You’re mine too,” he said with a forced smile.

——————————————————-

Back at MTC, you were in a good mood. Having seen Lando in the morning, you felt reassured that he was good. You stepped outside to take a walk after lunch when you overheard two voices from around the corner.

“You know what I still don’t understand?” You heard Stacy ask someone.

“What?” You heard the voice of the office administrator respond.

“He requested that she be moved from being his PR manager. I was originally supposed to come on as Lando’s but Oscar asked the team to switch it.”

Your blood froze as you eavesdropped, a million emotions running through your head. He didn’t want you to be his PR manager anymore? Betrayal washed over you and you felt tears fill your eyes. Subconsciously, your feet led you to keep walking to the parking lot and your car. When you shut the door, everything broke loose, and you rested your arms and head against the steering wheel as you cried.

God you had been so stupid. How could you have been so stupid to even entertain the possibility that he felt the same way?

Lando saw you walking towards your car and followed, knowing that you both had to be in a meeting in ten minutes. He pulled open your passenger door, thinking he could scare you, but he was caught off guard when your tear-soaked face looked over at him.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked, panicked, and that only made you cry harder. Leaning over the console, he grabbed your shaking body, pulling it into his chest. He rubbed your back as you cried into him, soon slowing down to only sniffles.

“He asked for me to switch to be your PR manager rather than continuing to be his,” you told Lando as you pulled out of his arms.

Lando gave you a confused look, “what do you mean?”

“I overheard Stacy telling someone that she was supposed to work with you, but Oscar wanted to make the switch,” you said, trying not to cry again.

“That can’t be true; he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him.”

“Obviously not,” you laughed bitterly.

“But what about Brazil? He waited up for you.”

“Guilty conscience maybe,” you justified and Lando frowned. “I’m going home, will you tell everyone I just wasn’t feeling well?”

Lando nodded before squeezing your hand and leaving.

As he walked back into the building, he was on a mission. He had already texted someone that you and he were missing the meeting. Oscar was talking to a mechanic on the floor, and Lando walked quickly towards him.

“I need to talk to you,” he said coldly and Oscar was taken aback by his teammate's bluntness. The mechanic looked awkwardly between them before muttering that he had something to do and scurrying off.

“What’s up?” Oscar said.

“Did you request that y/n be moved to work with me?” He asked directly and Oscar’s eyes widened, caught way off guard.

“I did,” he said slowly. “How do you know that?”

“Y/n just told me,” Lando replied, crossing his arms. Oscar instantly paled, looking at Lando with disbelief.

“No,” he whispered softly. “How does she know that?”

“She overheard someone talking about it,” Lando told him, more gentle this time.

Oscar sunk into a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands.

“What did she say about it? y/n,” He asked quietly and Lando sighed, sitting next to him.

“It was hard to understand her because of how hard she was crying,” he murmured, and Oscar squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t understand why, though, I thought you liked her?”

“I do like her; that’s the problem,” he confessed, looking over at Lando. “I talked to HR, and they told me the only way I could pursue her would be if we didn’t work together directly.”

Lando’s eyes widened in realization and he laughed humorlessly.

“You are such an idiot,” he breathed out, amazed by Oscar’s stupidity. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“I wanted to,” Oscar snapped. “But then it happened, and she was avoiding me, and then she basically friendzoned me in Brazil, so it was never a good time.”

“Oh my god mate, she’s been in love with you since forever,” Lando complained.

Oscar's head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What? No, that can't be right. She told me I was her best friend."

Lando groaned in frustration. "Because she was scared to tell you how she really felt! She's been jealous of Stacy this whole time, thinking you two were flirting."

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, looking stunned. "I had no idea. I thought she was getting closer to you and..."

"And you were jealous," Lando finished for him. "You two are both idiots."

"Where is she now?" Oscar asked urgently, standing up.

"She went home. She was pretty upset," Lando replied.

Without another word, Oscar took off running towards the parking lot. Lando called after him, "You better fix this, mate!"

Oscar's heart was racing as he sped towards your apartment. You had been lying in bed on top of your comforter for the past 20 minutes, staring at the ceiling. Someone knocked at your door, and you ignored it, but they wouldn’t stop. Flinging open the door, there was Oscar. His heart broke at the sight of you, swollen eyes but still a fire in them.

“You are the last person I want to fucking see right now,” you seethed, and he flinched back. It would be easy for him to turn around and leave and have you hate him for the rest of your life. But he was done wasting time.

He pushed past you, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the living room, forcing you to sit on the couch in front of him. You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to speak.

“I asked for you to be removed as my PR manager,” he stated.

“I know.” You replied sourly.

“I was told that it was the only option to continue down the path I was on,” he said, and your anger faded into confusion.

"What path?" you asked, your brow furrowed..

Oscar took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair nervously. "The path where I could pursue you romantically without it being a conflict of interest."

Your eyes widened in shock, your arms falling to your sides. "What?"

"I've had feelings for you for a long time," Oscar admitted, his voice soft. "But I couldn't act on them while you were my PR manager. So I requested the switch."

You sat there, stunned into silence. Your mind was racing, trying to process this new information.

"But... Stacy..." you started, still struggling to understand.

Oscar shook his head. "There's nothing between me and Stacy. She's just my PR manager, I told you that. You're the one I want to be with."

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked softly. He sighed, moving to sit next to you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He countered and your face flushed.

“Fucking Lando,” you muttered. “You’re like a robot Oscar, how was I supposed to know you felt the same way?”

He considered this for a moment before reaching over to grab you and pull you into his lap. Your head settled in the crook of his neck as you relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Oscar murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "I should have been more open with you. I was just so scared of ruining our friendship if you didn't feel the same way."

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "I've been in love with you for so long, Oscar. I thought you could never see me as more than a friend or coworker."

His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. "I see you as everything, Y/N. You're my best friend, my confidant, the person I want to share all my successes and failures with. And now, I hope, something more."

Your heart was pounding as you leaned in closer, your noses almost touching. "Something more sounds perfect," you whispered.

Oscar closed the distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours.

[folkloresthings]

TOLERATE IT / FA14.

in which the older sister of lando norris finds herself teetering dangerously towards the precipice of her brother’s, significantly older, colleague.

( fernando alonso x norris!reader )

track one: gold rush. track two: delicate. track three: labyrinth. track four: false god. track five: happiness. track six: the 1. track seven: daylight. track eight: lover.

✩⡱ warnings: age gap! reader is 25, fernando is 41.

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yourusername back in london town

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landonorris mum asked if you’re coming to dinner on sunday?

⤷ yourusername tell her yes, i’ll bring dessert, and please teach her how to text

user queen is back in the same city as me i might cry

lewishamilton i’ll be around next week, we should grab coffee!

⤷ yourusername only if you bring roscoe

⤷ lewishamilton yes ma’am 🫡

user im going to miss her in the paddock :(

⤷ user fingers crossed she’s back after the break

it was rather refreshing, to be back in your own apartment after weeks of living hotel to hotel. knowing where everything is, cooking for yourself, spending every night under your own covers. granted, after nights spent close to fernando’s side, your double bed felt much emptier than it did before.

with the summer break begun, the lack of work was leaving you with little to do. and the apartment had been sitting empty for weeks, desperate for a deep cleaning. so, clad in an old shirt and some shorts, you got to work. halfway through wiping down the entire kitchen, your phone rang, silencing the nineties hits playlist you’d had on.

hurrying over in your fluffy socks, you glanced down at the ringing screen. fernando. you hadn’t seen him since that morning lando had shown up in your hotel room. frankly, after your conversation with your brother, you fled the country as quickly as you could.

“hi,” you greeted him tentatively, after answering the call. he was quiet on the other end, your heart picking up its pace with every moment of silence.

“you left without saying goodbye,” he eventually speaks, voice monotone and heavy. you curse him mentally for being so unreadable, so plain when he wants to be.

you sigh, a finger rubbing your brow bone as you settle yourself on the couch. “i’m sorry, ‘nando.”

you weren’t sure of what else to say. you glanced at the time, ten minutes past eleven, wondering what time it was where fernando was. still in belgium? back home in spain? he wasn’t here, and that seemed to squeeze at your heart.

“so, what does this mean?” the question you had been dreading. the question you had asked yourself the whole plane ride home, and every moment since.

“i don’t know,” you murmured, truthfully. “it’s so complicated. if… if we keep this up, we’ll only get attacked. and lando will constantly be on edge — i don’t know if he could ever really accept it.”

“we could make him—” fernando begins to argue, and you can hear the frustration in his voice now.

“please, just listen.” he falls quiet and you lean back into the cushions. “i won’t be able to live knowing my brother didn’t approve. i can’t lose him, ‘nando, he’s my best friend. but…”

your lip wobbles, a tear slipping down your cheek. one you quickly wipe away, willing your emotions to get back in shape. fernando notices the shake in your breath, and his heart breaks when he realises he can’t do anything to help.

“but… the time we spent together, it was wonderful. you’ve taken my whole heart and i’ve happily let you keep it. it’s not something i want to let go of.”

“can’t we have both?” fernando asks, ready to beg you to stay. “lando will come around. and who cares about the press? we’d have each other, that’s what matters.”

“and what if it goes wrong?” you ask, almost too sharply. “what then? i can never come to a race again, because i won’t be able to face you? or we make it awkward between you and lando? he really looks up to you, fernando.”

“what could go wrong?” he asks, though he knows the answer. he knows about his own mistakes, and the reputation that came from it. but he would never dare break your heart, for it would only ruin his own.

“fernando…”

“mi amor, please…” he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds, because he is desperate. desperate to love you, to have you forever. “at least let us try.”

you consider it for a moment, you really do. torn between the possible love of your life and your baby brother, the hellish debacle of the century. but blood ran thicker than water, right?

“we never should have started this,” you brave the words, though they stab you in the process. but you know the only way to do this is to hurt him, to give him a reason to stay away. no matter how it kills you. “we can’t go on. it’s not like it ever could have worked, and you know it’s true.”

“no,” he replies firmly, holding himself together. “no, i’m not letting you go that easily.”

“i’m sorry, fernando. try and enjoy your break, okay?” you click the red end call button before he can reply, turning your phone off and sinking into the cushions, body soon racking with gentle sobs.

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user back with the y/n content, the people’s princess 🫶🫶🫶

pierregasly y/n’s cooking 🔛🔝

carlossainz55 i want a norris family dinner rn

user Y/N’S SO CUTE

fernandoalo_official enjoy ❤️

writers note: whoopsies. this is short sorry i’m super duper busy atm 💌

[moonstruckme]

hiiiiii🩷 It’s P 😊😊I was just wondering if I could request something a little bit self indulgent 🫠

Just a small thing about Remus comforting r for being anxious about having to start wearing glasses and being a bit embarrassed to wear them 🩷🩷🩷🩷

me from now on : 🤓🤓

have a lovely day 💋💋💋

Hi P! Thanks for requesting lovely <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 763 words

You’re trying not to squint at the menu behind the barista, but an ache blooms in your temples anyway. You give up, looking away. You and Remus are still a few places back in the line. You’ll read it once you get closer. 

“What’re you thinking, dove?” 

“Hm?” You glance up at your boyfriend, but he’s staring at the menu. 

“What’re you thinking of getting?” he clarifies, his quiet voice barely reaching you over the chatter of conversation and whirring of machinery behind the counter. 

“Oh. I’m not sure,” you answer honestly, “what’re you thinking?” 

“I’m sort of intrigued by the orange clove latte, but the dark chocolate and mint one sounds good too.” 

“Mm, yeah.” You turn back towards the menu, your voice wavering with uncertainty. “Those both look good.” 

“Dove.” 

“Mhm?” You look at Remus again, and this time he’s looking back. 

“Where are your glasses?” 

You hesitate a second before patting the side of your bag soundly, feeling the bulge of your glasses case within. “I’ve got them,” you say. 

“You don’t want to wear them?” he implores. There’s a funny squint to his eyes, not entirely unlike your own. More teasing. “I doubt you can read the menu from all the way back here, sweetheart. Why don’t you put them on?” 

You grimace but don’t argue, digging for them in your bag and sliding them onto the bridge of your nose. The relief is instant, but so is the self-consciousness. You feel as though the difference in your appearance must be glaring. That when people look at you, your glasses must be all they can see. 

Remus senses your unease, slipping his hand into yours. He worms his fingers between your own. 

“I could tell you were having one of your headaches,” he murmurs, and now the details of his expression are startlingly clear. Every line of it is shaped by a tender, aching fondness. “You get a bit of tension right,” he brings his other hand to your face, running his thumb over the skin just above your brow, “here. It goes away when you put them on.” 

It’s both touching and embarrassing to be so thoroughly known. You rest your head on Remus’ bicep, cheeks warming. He doesn’t comment on it. 

By the time you get to the front of the line, you both know what you want, and afterwards you step to the side to wait for your drinks. 

Remus is watching you, a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. 

“What?” you ask.

“Sorry, nothing.” He shakes his head. “You just look really cute in your glasses, you know?” 

You scoff. A cynical exhale that sounds more like a snort. Remus’ eyebrows go up. “You don’t have to say that,” you tell him. 

“I don’t feel like I have to,” he defends himself. “It’s fairly obvious. Don’t you like them?” 

You’re somehow even more aware of them than you were five seconds ago, touching your finger to the bridge to push the frames up an extra millimeter. “It’s like having an intruder on my face,” you joke lightly. 

Remus chuckles, giving your hand an affectionate squeeze. “You’re just not used to them,” he promises. “As someone who’s seen your face both with and without and loves it very much, I can testify that they don’t interfere with the general effect. You’re still lovely.” 

Neither of you can quite look at each other as he says it, though when you lean into his side a bit in thanks, he leans back. 

The barista calls out your order, and you both pick up your drinks, claiming a table by the window. 

“I’m shackled to iced coffee for the rest of my days,” you grouse, sipping your drink from a straw. “Hot drinks are too inconvenient, with the way they fog up my glasses.” 

“You always want iced ones,” Remus points out. 

You shrug like well yeah, but that’s not the point, and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly. They slip closed as he sips from his own cup. He’d gone with the odder one, orange and clove, and he seems uncertain about the taste, letting it sit on his tongue for a bit. 

“Interesting,” he decides. “Want to try?” 

You reach for the cup curiously. He passes it to you, and you blow on it out of instinct, immediately penalized when your vision is obscured. 

“Ugh.” You pull your face back from the cup, trying to see through your foggy lenses. “So annoying.” 

Even through the mist, you can see Remus’ lips curve in a smile. “Adorable.”

[izvmimi]

cw: streamer au! you and hawks have a popular channel and you have some special guests! fluff! reader and hawks are married. 'dove' as a nickname. written for @pastelle-rabbit.

“Did you finish setting up the microphones, dove?” Keigo asks, while you’re just about to adjust your PC setup. The stream begins in five minutes, and while it’s not the first time you’ve gone live with your love, it’s the first time that you’ve had guests on your streaming site, and this is highly anticipated enough that you expect a higher turnout for today, and commensurately likely more trolls. You’re used to Keigo’s trolls as a top-ranking hero, but Izuku’s trolls are a whole different beast.

“Yes!” you sing out to him. After the final adjustment, you shoot a glance to Izuku and his wife who are poised very politely on gaming chairs you got just for them; his hand is holding hers, the thumb caressing the back of her hand while she crosses her legs at the ankle. She looks distressed and you stifle a giggle. Horror and gore are the themes for your stream today and from what Izuku has told you, she’s a screamer, but so is Keigo, so the two will be squawking like birds for the remainder of the night. 

You can’t wait.

“Are you guys comfortable?” you ask. The chair arrangement is a little more complex to make sure everyone stays huddled around your huge monitor, but you’ve figured it out.

She nods slowly, and Izuku grins. “We’re doing perfect!”

There are now two minutes until the stream starts, and Keigo slips into the chair right beside you and kisses your cheek, his other hand deep in a bag of chicken chips which he brings to your mouth.

You indulge him with a bite, and he grins, then whispers if you want him to be your chair this time, and while Izuku grins politely at the two of you, you can sense yourself warming in the face.

“We have guests,” you remind him. Keigo throws a glance at Izuku who immediately waves his hands.

“Pretend we’re not here.”

“What do you mean we’re not here, we were in-”

You start the stream and Izuku’s wife falls silent, immediately switching to camera ready mode. “Welcome guys and thanks for coming back to our channel! As promised, we have special guests today! -” Deku and his wife wave politely to the camera in million-watt smiles, “- and we’ll be continuing with our horror themed stream!”

Keigo chews loudly and waves at the camera. “I’ll be here!” he motions a salute to the screen. As expected, you can already see the influx of his fans filling the chat, painfully polite in their thirst since the last time he reminded them on screen he was happily married.

“Ooh can we have streamer nicknames?” Izuku’s wife asks.

“Sure, what would you like to be called?” you offer. She looks around, then up at the ceiling, then her eyes light up.

“Hm�� BLOODCRUSH.” She says with dramatic glee. The rest of the three of you blink rapidly, but no one argues. 

“Bloodcrush it is!” you announce as she kicks her feet. Izuku gives her a mildly concerned look, but then rubs her shoulder affectionately. The chat starts to rile up with comments in support of new nickname Bloodcrush (bloodcrush x deku otp, bloodcrush fighting!) to her delight while the less savory ones are promptly ignored.

“I think the rest of us will just go by our hero or streamer names, is that okay?” Keigo says, stretching out in his chair and resting his arm around the shoulder of your gaming chair, pose relaxed.

“So what game are we playing?” Deku starts per your loosely prepared script. 

“RAID AND EXECUTION,” Hawks announces, excitedly. You laugh as the story intro video begins, and Hawks claps his hands dimming the lights while Bloodcrush looks stunned to her husband then to you.

“Raid and what?”

“Oh, that sounds awesome! I’ve heard of this one!” Deku chirps, and immediately his info-dumping begins. “So from what I’ve read, this game is set in the early 1400s in the Caribbean where a group of pirates are lost at sea and encounter a group of enchanted beings, most likely zombies, and you’re meant to survive as long as possible when they’re active at night, and raid the villagers during the daytime or else you’ll run out of resources and die, not to mention the game mechanics heavily rely on you using context clues of the environment in order to determine if a settlement is nearby and-”

Hawks and Bloodcrush both scream as the first zombie shows up on screen armed with a machete and cleanly slices the head off of your avatar.

‘Ooh, that was fast,” you say, frowning as the “Game Over” screen shows up on the monitor. The chat explodes with comments telling Deku to shut the hell up which makes him frown.

“Just trying to provide context,” he grumbles. You start up the game again and instead of jumping right off the ship and walking right onto the island, you pause and look for clues. Hawks encourages you to explore the bottom of the ruins first, which has you find a rusty machete of your own as well as some 14th century hardtack, and Bloodcrush leans in and asks you if there’s any way you can find a musket or other gun.

“Baby, I think muskets weren’t invented till the 15th century,” Deku says, and she pats his cheek gently, whispering only mildly threatening, “I didn’t ask you for historical accuracy, honey.”

“Here, I think we found one!” you exclaim and Hawks gives you a high five while Bloodcrush raises her eyebrow at him. 

While you begin arranging your inventory, Hawks repeats some questions in the chat for their guests.

“So, herofootfetish69 has a question for you, Deku.”

Izuku pales while you and his wife unintentionally bursts out laughing from how nonchalantly Hawks reads the username, then your avatar inadvertently falls off a cliff and dies.

“Man!” you exclaim as you restart. Bloodcrush laughs even harder as she points to new resources that you can pick up while you’re repacking your knapsack.

“They ask, do you have time to play video games when you’re supposed to be protecting the city?” Hawks asks, then giggles.

“Why am I being heckled?” he frowns. “Yes, heroes have time off too.” He pauses. “Hawks is literally on this stream!”

“Hey, I think if you alternate the musket and the dagger, you might have a chance with those zombies,” Bloodcrush murmurs. Someone in the chat tells her that she has a better chance with the dagger alone. “Never mind, just do that.” 

“Next question for LoveDove!” Keigo presses a kiss to your forehead, then reads off, “gains4fame asks, how long have you and Bloodcrush known each other?”

“Not long!” you say, “but I think we’ve become fast friends!”

Bloodcrush’s eyes light up and she playfully bops you on the shoulder. Hawks offers an affectionate awwww, and hugs you while Deku rubs his wife’s back. 

In the process of your husband hugging you, you’re shot by an arrow.

“NO!” you and Bloodcrush scream in unison, then look at each other and giggle.

“Next question from chickenchipenthusiast-” Izuku pauses, then reaches for the extra bag Hawks has brought, “not sponsored by the way,” he reminds everyone, “for Hawks - how do you choose your guests on the show?”

Hawks shrugs. “When I called, you picked up.”

Izuku sighs in defeat.

“We’ll move on to the next question. For LoveDove again - do you think you’ll get better at these games?”

Hawks bristles but you laugh. “I’m having fun and so are you, aren’t you?”

chickenchipenthusiast writes: exactly!

You get your first kill of a zombie on the island and you and Bloodcrush share double high fives in delight. 

The chat fills with overwhelming support and the stream continues late into the night, the chatter amongst you guys never ending and the subscribers ticking higher and higher all night.

[jennysparksandtheauthority]

I wish I could believe any Pricefield's criticisms in good faith, but this is the same fandom that harassed and abused Dontnod when Life is Strange 2 came out and it wasn't about Max and Chloe. The game got review bombed in the early days, and along with harassing the staff, the VAs and characters both received terrible racist comments. We also saw similar instances with True Colors. Harassment, review bombing, and racism.

Both Dontnod and Square/Deck Nine wanted to make this series into an anthology.

It was the Pricefield shippers who continually demanded the return of Max and Chloe.

Seeing how horrifically this fandom has treated so many people who worked on these games, many of whom are just as big of fans and passionate about it as they are, is it any wonder the latest entry is now a souless cash grab meant to bring in money banking on nostalgia while disrespecting the fans and hating on one half of a big ship?

And ever since the first two episodes of Double Exposure has come out, when the fandom isn't talking about Pricefield, I've seen nothing but transphobic comments about Gwen (constantly misgendering her and calling her a pedo because she's trans), racist comments towards Moses and Safi (accusing Moses of being the murderer just because he's black or being hoping Safi is going to die in both timelines because she's Arabic), bisexual erasure towards Max (which Michael confirmed was always supposed to happen, Square didn't influence her sexuality like so many of the fandom and the "former D9 employee" keep insisting), and attacking the VAs who are actually excited for this project and want to play the game on their youtube channels.

I used to love Pricefield when I was younger. I grew out of it as I got older because I saw all the flaws with the ship and figured out it wasn't for me. Any chance of enjoying the ship ever again was ruined by this fandom.

The Life is Strange fandom, and the Pricefield fandom especially, are incredibly entitled and bigoted. One of the worst fandoms I've ever had the displeasure to be a part of. And I'm not surprised at all that things ended up this way.

Big fandoms are always bound to be toxic at some point. The more people in a fandom, the higher the chances of having assholes among us. Unfortunately, it happens. And you’re right about all the fucked up shit that happened through the years, the LIS2 situation was especially heartbreaking.

But you’re also leaning into confirmation bias.

I’ve seen people on Twitter and TikTok and Instagram and here making fan cams of Gwen, saying she’s the best new character, arguing that she would have been a better love interest for Max than whatshisname and Amanda (and I echo that sentiment, Gwen rocks and I’ll fight the transphobes with my bare hands if I have to).

I’ve seen people hold dearly Sean and Daniel’s story, making the ‘squad’ sweatshirt sell out repeatedly in that website that has LIS stuff.

I’ve seen people saying they want to protect Moses at all costs, even calling for everyone to be respectful to the VA and to leave him out of the madness, just like with Hannah Tell.

If we’re having dinner in a restaurant with 100 well behaved people and there’s one or two or even ten assholes screaming and throwing things to other people, they’re going to ruin the experience for everyone else. They’re going to be loud and annoying and you could leave saying you’re never coming back to that restaurant. That’s fair. But the fault falls specifically on that group, not the other hundred people that were minding their own business and enjoying their dinners.

Nowadays, it’s impossible to enjoy any fandom if you don’t find the four/five weirdos that enjoy the thing as much as you and you create a nice little bubble of the stuff you like and the people you want to interact with. It’s sad, but it’s true.

This doesn’t mean people shouldn’t be held accountable and that we shouldn’t try to take out our own trash — I’ve been calling out an awful person on Twitter that’s been harassing and insulting the devs for the last few days. I reported them, I tried to reason, I did all the work until there was nothing left to do but to block them.

Sometimes you can make a difference. Other times, you can’t.

Now, are you suggesting that the whole pricefield fandom deserved this? That we all should be punished? That we’re all implicitly responsible for the misogyny, the homophobia and the greed of the capitalistic machine? Wow.

The simple truth is SE and D9 wanted to pander to casual gamers and gamebros cause they thought that would give them more money. The truth is that D9’s toxic work environment (reason enough to boycott everything they put out well before the pricefield fiasco) influenced this game to the point of being lead by people who didn’t understand the first game and that hated the themes at its core.

You think the pricefield fandom is bigoted and entitled? Oh boy, have a look at all the articles about D9’s internal affairs: N*ZI symbolism, misogyny, sexual harassment, homophobia…

You think the majority of the LIS fandom is toxic? Then take a look at what the casual cismale straight gamers are saying now. They’re the new LIS:DE fandom. I’m not going to reproduce the comments and the absolute vile things I’ve seen them say post-DE gameplay reveal and the break up confirmation, but I’ll show you a glimpse of the reactions:

So, in the bitter conclusion, you might be right: just like Chloe, we might deserve all of this because after all we’re loud, we’re queer, and we deserve to be punished.

Just like Nathan said to Chloe in the bathroom, the devs were asking this to the pricefield fandom… “Nobody would ever even miss your "punk ass" would they?”

Well, fuck around and find out.

[twopoppies]

Hello,

You're anon early with the tiktok mentioning Larry sort of reminded me about my origin story into this fandom. I had a moment when I was trying to figure who "Larry" was. Anyway, here's my story:

My origin story.

I blame it on Taylor Swift.

It was the Fall of 2022.

At the time, I knew little about One Direction besides the fact that they were a British boyband from X-Factor that Simon Cowell created. I knew that a band member named Zayn had left and that the band had broken up not long after. I could tell you who Harry and Niall were, but the other boys blended into interchangeable band members.

Looking back, I’m not sure why I wasn’t more into them because I had been a massive fan of American boybands of the '90s (NKOTB, BSB, N*SYNC, 98 Degrees, etc.). Being in my mid-forties now, I can assume I thought I wasn’t in One Direction’s focus group, especially since I had friends who took their 1D-obsessed kids to One Direction concerts, and I just wanted to stay away.

Back to Taylor Swift. I’ve been a fan of her music since her debut album, which is still my favorite of hers.

It was the Fall of 2022, and Taylor had a lot of buzz because she was about to release Midnights. I went on a binge of listening to my favorite Taylor songs. I got to the song “Style,” which I have always liked and assumed was about Harry.

I got curious and decided to google if Harry had ever written a song about Taylor. When they were “dating,” they existed outside of my bubble of things to care about. “Two Ghosts” was the song that came up as possibly being written about Taylor.  I knew of and liked the song. I had watched Harry on James Corden (another rabbit hole I went down about celebrities singing Broadway songs which led to Carpool Karaoke and Crosswalk Musicals and eventually to Harry Styles) around the time his debut album came out, liked Sign of the Times, and bought the album.

I searched on YouTube to see if there was a music video of Two Ghosts or a live performance. I was disappointed that there wasn’t a music video, but I did watch a live performance and then scrolled down to the comments.

Holy wow! That’s where I first encountered the fandom. Fans were arguing about who the song was written about and whether Harry (as well as Louis and Taylor, for that matter) was gay, bi, or straight. The thoughts that went through my head!

Yes, other people think this is a beautiful song.

Are we sure this song is about Taylor?

Wait! This song is about a guy?

Who is Louis Tomlinson? I think he might be a 1D band member? Gotta go look that up.  Yep, a 1D band member.

There was a gay couple in 1D? That’s cute.  How am I just finding this out? Why isn’t this bigger news? They probably had to hide like Jonathan Knight of NKOTB and Lance Bass of N*Sync.

Who is Larry Stylinson? Is he a sixth member? I thought there were only five members?

Oh. It’s their names together.

That’s so cute!

Yep, they’re closeted. That’s so sad! Stupid boyband stereotypes.

And I went off to Google to find out more information. I found Tumblr, master posts, videos, fanfics, and down the rabbit hole I fell.

Two years later, I’m still down the rabbit hole with no plans of digging myself out.

Hahahaha! That’s a long, but pretty direct route down the rabbit hole. Glad to have you here!

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Hey babe can u pls make Ethan (or Jack) x older reader? (I am 3 years older than him ☠️☠️) drink water n always try to sleep 8 hours ❤️



perfect opportunity to set a rule. i won't be writing for any real people. but I'm happy to write a little fluff piece for ethan! (i’m also two years older, little 2002 baby) also thank you for the love❤️❤️

reader is gender-neutral.

WC: 826

warnings: cursing

masterlist

“you’re fucking with us.”

“no, i’m not.”

the table got silent and then, “nah. no way you have a partner. especially an older partner.” chad planted his foot down. he knew ethan wanted a bit of respect in the friend group, but this was a huge fib.

ethan rolled his eyes, “when you say older it makes it seem like i’m dating a widower. they're just three years older. they work at the school library.” hoping that might give some type of autonomy for them to rack their brains about.

“dude, that doesn’t give us a single clue about them. we don’t study at the library twenty-four-seven like you.” tara pointed out.

“also most of us have easier classes,” mindy with her sarcasm. anika chided her girlfriend before asking ethan her own question, “how long have you been dating?”

ethan got a bit shy, head turning as he scratched his ear. “about three, almost four months.”

“oh, shit. ethan i didn’t know you had that much game.” chad cheered as he clapped ethan’s shoulder. ethan’s face showed confusion, “just three minutes ago you didn’t even believe i had a partner. now you're saying i have game?”

chad shrugged, “eh. still gotta meet this wonderful person that swept little ethan landry off his feet before i one hundred percent believe you.”

“i’m sure they are a lovely person,” anika tried to uplift ethan from the backhanded comments. “maybe we could meet them. if they're up for that?”

ethan smiled at his friend as he nodded his head. “i’ll- i’ll ask them. but they’ve mentioned before wanting to meet everyone.”

tara shimmed her shoulders and awes, “so you talk about us? hope it’s all good stuff.” fist to her cheek as she smiles.

“yeah- yeah. always- always good things.” ethan messed with the pages of his textbook. his homework was forgotten once you became the topic of discussion.

“you two have sex yet?” mindy outright asked. everyone exclaimed loudly, chad was also curious. tara and anika argued with the twins' childish antics.

“you don’t have to answer that ethan.” tara reminded him. she swatted chad’s shoulder. the boy exaggerated the pain the five-foot girl caused to his muscled shoulder.

ethan didn’t even have a chance to stutter out any comment. there was a yell of his name and everyone turned their heads towards the noise. and when ethan turned a smile lit up his face and he jumped from his seat. his head of bouncing curls and jacket pushed by the wind as his converse-clad feet carried him halfway across the campus grounds to your open arms.

your arms over his shoulders and his around your waist. he lifted your feet off the ground, face tucked into his neck, and gave your bodies a twirl, once then twice before stopping in place. you leaned back, hands sliding from behind and cupping his cheeks as he held your hips.

“hi, pretty boy.” a kiss to his waiting lips. he hummed at the touch before you pulled away.

“hi, baby.” another peck between lips. “i’ve missed you.”

a light chuckle, “i saw you this morning.” a hand pushing curls around.

he gave your hips a squeeze, “well now you're making it sound like a bad thing. can’t i miss my favorite person?”

the corner of your mouth quirked up. something over ethan’s shoulder caught your attention and it brought a tilt to your head. from the corner of your eye, you could see ethan’s brows furrow in the middle.

“what?”

you nicked your chin, “there is a group of people behind you just watching us like starving hawks.” right hand left ethan’s features and gave a timid wave to the little group. they all turned away except for a guy who waved back enthusiastically before a girl hit his shoulder.

ethan turned his body, one arm holding you to his side as the other pushed hair from his forehead. he sighed, “those starving hawks are my friends. who happen to believe you don’t exist.”

looking away from his friends and attention turned to his side profile. your eyes detailed the shape of his nose and the point of his cupids bow along with the speckled freckles. 

“well,” arm around his waist hugged him tight, “why don’t i introduce myself? hope they're not disappointed i'm not a unicorn.”

you pulled away from ethan, arm running along his back before catching his hand and tugging him behind you. a look over your shoulder and the flush to ethan’s chubby cheeks, it just made you fall even deeper into the tight grasp that was wrapped around your heart.

your so lucky ethan landry walked into your life on that random wednesday.

feet stopping at the head of the table, ethan behind your shoulder with hands still held. a beaming smile parted your lips while giving a gentle wave to the four pairs of watchful eyes.

“hi, i’m y/n l/n, ethan’s partner.”

[makethatelevenrings]

Somewhere Only We Know - TWO

Chapter Warnings: spoilers for 2x02, swearing but that’s part of the show idk why you would be surprised by that

shoutout to @yanna-banana​ for showing me this Instagram dupe site so I can make this a bit more ~interactive~ since reader is, y’know, a social media manager. also thanks for ur patience my lovelies, i’m having “ahhhh im graduating” depressive states and all my energy is going towards finals and existing rn.

Series Masterlist

“Okay. Laptop. Charger. Keys. Coffee. Shoes. Shoes!”

For some reason, you were a mess this morning. You had been repeating your list of things you needed over and over again and yet every time you kept discovering something else you had forgotten. Your bag lay half-packed on the couch as you ran around like a chicken with its head cut off in pursuit of your shoes. Seriously, how the fuck did you lose the shoes you had grabbed from your closet just a minute ago?

That’s because they were in your hands.

Sighing, you pulled on the sensible flats and took another moment to look around your room and list out all the things you needed for work today. The TV played in a lone drone behind you and you turned your head to see This Morning playing. Philip and Holly were interviewing some guy from that one reality show.

“What about Amy? Are you going to wait for her?” Holly asked.

“Nah, no. I was just playing a game, know what I mean?” the guy replied. Christ, was that Jamie Tartt? It was, wasn’t it. “Find the fittest girl there, have sex with her in the toilet, ask her to marry you. Strategy.”

“Wow,” you drawled before you shut off the TV. “He’s a piece of shit.”

You headed for the door and quickly backtracked. You almost forgot your entire bag and the leftovers from the shoot you had last night. Ugh, you needed more coffee.

~~~

You were scrolling through TikTok in search of a new trend to use for a Richmond video when all five foot two inches of your boss came bursting into your office.

“Oh, sorry! I should have knocked. Get your bag, babes, we’re going to lunch,” she exclaimed. “There’s this cafe that’s a ten minute walk from here and they’ve got the best coffee.”

You knew better than to argue with the pure ball of energy that was Keeley Jones. In the short time you’ve known her, you loved the beaming blonde. She and Rebecca were infectious in their laughter, light, and kindness. When you first interviewed, you were intimidated by the two women, but you quickly learned that they were goofy as hell and always down to gossip.

Grabbing your purse, you dutifully followed Keeley through the maze of hallways. She passed the locker room without a second glance, but you made sure to peek over your shoulder to see a few of the guys streaming out of the doors.

“Yo, Keeley!” someone called. She spun around and waved at whoever yelled and then grabbed your hand, pulling you over to talk to a few of the guys.

“Hi Isaac! Have you met our new social media manager yet? She’s gonna be the one making you all look sexy on the Gram now,” she announced. You offered them a tentative smile and the large man in front of you beamed.

“Isaac McAdoo,” he introduced. You gave him your name in turn and then cleared your throat. You weren’t as charismatic or bubbly as Keeley, but you were trying to make more of an effort. Your last job was filled with a few passive aggressive comments thrown over cubicle walls and then bossa nova jazz everyday. No one had been chatty or nice the way everyone was at Richmond.

“I’ve actually been meaning to set up meetings with all the players,” you explained. “My job is to handle the team’s socials, but I also want to integrate the players' ideas and individual brands. I’d also like to know if anyone is working with a management team so I can coordinate with them on certain posts.”

“Isn’t she fucking brilliant?” Keeley exclaimed.

Isaac puffed out his chest and flexed his biceps. “As long as you make us look good, then I’m in.”

Keeley patted you on the shoulder. “We should get going to lunch, but check your email soon. I’ll make sure we can coordinate times to meet.”

“Awesome. Nice to meet you!” He darted off to go talk to someone else and Keeley slid her arm into the crook of yours so she could lead you out of the building and down the road.

“Isaac’s all bark and no bite unless you’re on the field,” she explained. “Sam is an absolute sweetie and Colin is darling. Richard is my go-to when I need to know a wine pairing and Zoreaux is a beast at Dance Dance Revolution. Bumbercatch is…”

Keeley listed off all the players on the team and you tried to keep a mental catalog of everything she said, but it was making your head spin. You were grateful once she stopped outside a small cafe that was indeed a short walk from Nelson Road. A simple vanilla latte and a chicken cobb salad was your order while Keeley got a complicated drink and a wrap.

The owner, Alex, handed the two of you your drinks and you turned with the intention of finding a table to wait for the food when Keeley stopped short. Some guy stood half-obscured by the plant shelves, but he stepped out once he realized he caught Keeley’s attention.

“Jamie?!” she exclaimed.

“I-I’m not stalking ya,” he blurted out. “I’ve been following you for, like, a few blocks now and I couldn’t text ya because I deleted your number.”

As he rambled on, his words started to fade in and out as you took him in. His slicked back hair made him look like a corny Godfather character and the all black ensemble didn’t help. You could understand why people fawned over him with that strong jaw and blue eyes, but as his lips moved all you could hear was his smarmy talk from the show this morning. 

“So, yeah, I’ve been following you for the last few blocks. No, I’m lying. I’ve been following you for your whole lunch hour. But I’ve just been trying to build up the courage to say hi…so…hi.” His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

“That’s, like, the definition of stalking,” you murmured which drew his attention to you. Jamie Tartt was starting to feel like a bad omen that was following you around.

“Hi, sorry. Jamie Tartt.” He offered you a cocky smile that you recognized from the TV that morning and you merely glanced down at his outstretched hand. You had no idea where that hand had been. Raising a single eyebrow, you let your gaze trail up from his hand to his face.

“I’ll go find us a table,” you said to Keeley before you brushed past him and found an empty table by the window. You always loved sitting by the window and watching the world pass by. You could make up stories about the people that passed by. Like the lady walking two poodles. Maybe she was some CEO or maybe she was an undercover agent. That would be sick as hell.

“Sorry about that, babe,” Keeley apologized. She placed your salad in front of you and then took the seat across from you. “Now, I just want to say that your idea about meeting all the players? Brilliant. Absolutely fucking brilliant. When we get back to the office, we can set up a calendar for everyone to schedule a time to meet with you. How’s that sound?”

“That’s great. I really love working here.” You looked towards the door where Jamie Tartt was heading out of, a coffee clutched in his hand. He glanced back at the table you were sitting at and you immediately looked away and back at Keeley. You offered her a tight smile and nodded along to whatever she was saying.

Hopefully that was the last time you would ever see Jamie Tartt.

Tag List: @shiptheship​

[the-graveyard-academe]

Introductory Post

Hello, and welcome to the Graveyard! I figured it would be best for everyone to get to know me, so this is my introductory post to me as the author, and my practice.

About Me

My name is Crow, though you can also call me Graveyard or Academe if that’s easier to remember. I am transmasc and use he/it pronouns, though I also use microlabels, xenogenders, and neopronouns. I am also aroace, and use microlabels for that as well.

Now, for some interesting information about myself:

I have several self-diagnosed mental issues, though they have all been heavily researched for at least five years. Because of that, I kindly ask for patience if I am inconsistent with my postings

I’m currently in college with a major in psychology and a minor in education. I’m looking to be a psychology teacher

I’m the equivalent of an old man with technology sometimes, social media even more so. I’ll learn how to use Tumblr as I go along

My Practice - A Brief Timeline

In terms of my religious journey, I practiced Baptist Christianity for the first ten years or so. But that’s also when my interest in Greek mythos started, though it was minor compared to other interests. In terms of practicing Hellenic polytheism, I got introduced when I was around 16 and researching witchcraft and Satanism, and was enthralled.

Research about both began almost simultaneously, though I dove with minimal foundation. After taking a break from Hellenic polytheism to focus more on witchcraft, create a base in terms of basic cleansing and protection, I feel comfortable enough to come back into it.

About the Blog

While I will do by best to write about my experiences and practices, reblogs of my friends will be fill-in posts until I’ve gained footing. As of now, I’m currently working on worshipping Lords Apollo and Ares, though I am open to researching and giving credit to more of the pantheon if the situation calls for it.

Other than just Hellenic polytheism, I may mention things on the side of witchcraft. Whether this is divination practice and journals, or improving on my intuition. If this doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, feel free to ignore the tag.

Tags

Will be updated as posts are created

After all the good and fluffy things, it’s time for the final part of guidelines and DNI for my account.

Guidelines

Respect - This blog is to help share my personal journey, and the journey of others. Occasionally, I may try and share tips or information. Everyone that is mentioned on this blog-whether it’s via reblogging or comments-will be treated with the respect they deserve. If I am told of/witness someone being bigoted, overly aggressive, or otherwise a disturbance to the environment of the blog, I will not hesitate to block you. You respect me and those around my blog, I will respect you.

Academic Integrity - As an academic, I value the power that scholarly articles and first-hand experiences have. I am also new to spirituality, so I am using sources that have been evaluated and posted by fellow Hellenic polytheists in the server I am in. If anything I say is factually incorrect or you have questions, I encourage proper correction and questioning. Attacks, vulgarity, and degradation will not be tolerated. I also will not give reactions if it spreads further into callout posts on your account.

Curiosity - Much like academic integrity, I greatly appreciate curiosity. Feel free to ask any-well-meaning-questions, and I will do my best to respond or guide you to someone who I think can answer better than I can.

Do Not Interact

Any who engage in oppressive behaviors

Those who are only looking to argue-not debate or inform

People who are disrespectful to me, my friends, or those who interact with my page will be blocked

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for accidentally causing a falling out in our friend group?

I (19) made some friends in college. One of these was J (19M). Throughout the year, small issues built up with him. Notably him constantly (albeit not maliciously) misgendering me. However, he has only known me to go by they/them pronouns since we met, so I don’t see why after nearly a year of knowing him he still couldn’t get them right.

As well as him having very aggressive body language while having conversations/arguments, which always made me very uncomfortable, but he never actually did anything, so I thought it was fine.

The turning point was one night when we were all hanging out, me and my friend M (19F) were talking about how unfair it is that guys can take their shirts off when it’s super hot outside and somehow it got to us talking about how boobs are technically secondary sexual characteristics and shouldn’t even be sexualized by society as much as they are.

J argued with us. The actual opinion on this argument is not important here nor what makes anyone the asshole, but essentially it boiled down to me saying that, if it was hot enough, I personally don’t think it should be wrong for me to be shirtless. He then told me to prove it by taking off my shirt. I said no. There were five other people in the room with us who would not consent to that and it wasn’t hot in the room.

After I explicitly said no to taking off my shirt, he doubled down. Said if I didn’t take it off my argument had no holding and that he was right, which made me uncomfortable. I didn’t feel like I needed to strip in my friend’s dorm to prove a point for a disagreement that really wasn't that serious and I didn't like that he pressured me to after I said no the first time. I can’t remember what I said in response, but the disagreement ended there thanks to the show we were all about to watch starting. However, it made me very uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

Later that night, we went out to get some food like we usually do and sat around in a circle talking. Two of my friends went up to get more food while the other three were having their own conversation which led to J and I talking. 

Now, some context: I’m autistic and I have sensory issues which make it difficult for me to eat food. There have been times when I’ve gone the whole day without eating, or maybe even multiple without, and I often stick to foods that are "safe" and won’t make me feel sick (most aren’t very nutritional/healthy).

I'm very aware of my difficulty eating and how unhealthy it is. I had been going back to my house every weekend in order to eat something other than the college food and even bought some vitamins to try and keep myself from getting severely malnourished.

That being said, I didn’t get a chance to eat much that day, and going out with them was my first genuine meal. After eating a meatball sub I got, M gave me her leftover grapes and I offhandedly said to J “I think these are the healthiest thing I’ve ate today.” 

And his response to me saying this was “You are so strange. You’re aware of how unhealthy you are, yet you never change.”

For the record, he doesn't know the specifics of my difficulties with eating. I’ve only vaguely mentioned it’s hard for me to eat and that I’m not able to eat a lot without feeling sick. Still, it felt really insensitive, very out of nowhere as we weren't having a serious conversation at all, and hurt my feelings. I got visibly upset at this and responded with a very bitter “Yeah” and immediately dropped the subject because it's not something I enjoy talking about. (This was also not the first time he has made comments about my self-care habits in such a way and while I believe he says them with good intentions I have stated multiple times it makes me feel worse).

I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, so I texted my friends after we all headed back to our dorms about what happened. Both him telling me to take off my shirt and the comment on my eating and asked if I was making a big deal out of it by being uncomfortable and upset. They told me that both things were extremely rude (and that the shirt thing was technically sexual harassment, though I don’t want to call it that) and that I was justified in being uncomfortable. They then mentioned that they had their own issues with J being a little too aggressive in the past that they had brushed aside, but they felt that what happened to me justified talking to him about his behavior.

We tried our best to avoid an argument. We just wanted to have a civil conversation about it as we all genuinely care about him. But when I confronted him about my issues and H brought up the problems she had been having (which consisted of him being too aggressive, guilt tripping the others when he was told to back off, and not respecting her privacy in her dorm) he got very defensive. It escalated into an argument between H and J that escalated to H deciding to cut ties with him due to him refusing to listen.

A few hours later, J sent me and H a genuine apology, which we accepted. I thought things were fine between us, although there was lingering discomfort as there would be with most big arguments. When the semester ended he sent us all messages that he didn’t feel welcome in the group and that he thought it was better to cut ties permanently and wished us all well. 

I kind of feel like it’s my fault and that I caused unnecessary drama without meaning to.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[janicho88]

When It All Falls Apart-Chapter 1

Pairing- Jensen x Reader

Word count- 1,069

Warnings-Not much for this chapter. Pregnancy talk (Will last a good chunk of the story) But it's not the reader. If I missed something let me know!

A/N- Birthday Post 1. Apparently, I can't write short stories. Not that I've been writing much lately. This was a one shot, then three part, and here we are with another series. Thank you to @writercole and @leigh70 for your help with this. You two are amazing!!

Summary-Y/N Padalecki loved acting on Supernatural.  Working alongside your older brother and your boyfriend, but after ten seasons the guys have chosen to hang up the guns.  Now the three of you are moving on to other projects, but that’s all that needs to change right?  While you have moved to Austin to be closer to your family and boyfriend, Jensen is working elsewhere.  Distance is only the start of your troubles.

Series Masterlist

“Aunt Y/N, Aunt Y/N!” Tom calls for your attention.

“Yes!  I’m watching, I really am,” you tell the young boy as you set your phone down on the table next to you.

“No you weren’t.  You were watching your phone,” your nephew argues back.

“I’m sorry buddy, but you really do have my full attention now.”

With a dramatic huff, the young boy gets himself ready to run through his self-made obstacle course in the backyard.  Your brother Jared and his wife, Gen are in the house talking with your parents and Gen’s while you volunteered to keep Tom busy out here.  The little man is right, you have been staring at your phone, hoping for a message, call, anything to come through.  Giving up on it, you focus on Tom running over to the slide.

“How’s things out here?” a cheery voice questions, as its owner sits down beside you.

“Good, Tom is just about to finish up his obstacle run.  I think he is anyway.  How did it go in the house?” you ask your sister-in-law.

“Great, they are all so excited.”

“Did you have any doubts?”

“Not really.”

“When are you telling Tom?”

“Just before we tell everyone else, so another month or so.  Just in case he spills the beans.”  

“He does take after my brother in the talk first, think later aspect.”

She laughs, “I don’t know how I’m going to handle three of them.”

“Wait, you’re having twins?  You didn’t tell me that!”

“What? No.  Jared, Tom and this baby will make three.”

“Ah, I got you now.  You are going to have your hands full.”

“Definitely.  Are you sure you want to move back out soon?  I’m going to miss having you around.  I’ll split custody of you with Jensen.”

When your boyfriend went out of town for work five months ago and wasn’t able to come home much, or at all, you started sleeping over at your brother's.  That turned into you just temporarily moving into the guest bedroom because you didn’t like staying alone in his empty house.  First, he was gone to film a movie in Chicago for three and a half months, and off to Toronto days after finishing that to start filming The Boys.  You have been working on a Netflix series filming just outside of Austin, then are going to join Walker, when it begins filming in August.  At least Jensen is supposed to be home just before that.  Just under two months to go, you think. 

You try to hide it, but she still catches the slight fall of your face at her comment, but before Gen can say anything, or you can respond, Tom is calling for you. 

“Aunt Y/N, did you see that?”

“I did!  Amazing job Tom, you are getting so fast.”  

“That’s ‘cause I’m four now.  Soon I’m going to start getting as tall as daddy.”

“Yes, you are.”

He goes back to play, and Sadie, Jared’s German Shepherd, chases after.  Gen is sitting there watching you.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just peachy.”

“Are you sure?  You’ve spent a lot of time staring at your phone lately.  I’ve noticed you seem to be a bit down.”

“Hey Y/N,” your brother calls out, “mom and dad are getting ready to hit the road.”

Saved from answering her question you jump up.  “I need to go see my parents off.”

“Tom, Grandma and Grandpa Padalecki are heading back to San Antonio.  Let’s go say goodbye,” your sister-in-law calls to her son. 

You make your way inside before she can continue her questioning.  No, things aren’t really great, but you don’t want to talk about it right now.  Putting a smile on your face you walk inside to face your parents.  Goodbyes are said, hugs are exchanged and before long you are standing in the driveway next to Jared waving as their car pulls out. 

“Mom and dad can’t wait to spoil another grandbaby,” you say as the two of you walk back inside.

“No they can’t.  As happy as they have been for Jeff and I, just wait until you and Jensen have your first kid.  You’re mom’s baby girl, she is going to go nuts.”

“Yeah, hard to say if that’s in the cards,” you mumble, but Jared still caught it.

“Jensen loves kids, I thought he couldn’t wait to have a few?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know if it will be with me.”

Jared stops and stares after you walking ahead of him through the living room, “What??  Did something happen between you two?  Do I need to go up to Toronto and kick his ass?”

“Nothing has happened, just drop it,” you call back over your shoulder as you hit the stairs and head for your room.

Gen is standing in the kitchen doorway and looks over at her husband, “what’s going on?”

“I’m not really sure.  But I’m going to make a call and find out.”

“Ah, no you aren’t.  We don’t know what has her so off.  If something is going on with the two of them, if she’s just stressed and tired, or maybe it really is nothing.  You aren’t going to call and worry Jensen if it’s nothing.”

“She’s my little sister.”

“Who would kick your ass if you made that call.  I’ll see if she’ll talk to me tomorrow.  I’ve noticed she’s been off for a few days, I was trying to give her space.”

“I could find out right now.”

“I know it’s hard, but turn off big brother mode for now.  Don’t make me hide your phone, Mister.”

“Fine, I’ll let you talk to her first.”

“Good boy, now go find your son for his bath please, while I check on my parents outside.”

 Gen leans up and gives Jared a kiss before she walks away.

Up in the guest room you are curled up on the bed trying not to over think what your brother had just said.  You can’t help the tears that begin to fall.  You’ve been with Jensen for four years now, it would be a lie if you said you hadn’t thought about having a family with him before.  He has been your rock, safe place and well, everything for so long.  You just weren’t expecting things to go the way they had.  That steady rock you leaned on had become a landslide. 

Thank you for reading!!

Chapter 2

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WIAFA-

[andydrysdalerogers]

Your Submissively ~ Adjudication

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Innuendo

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

“I’ve noticed.  We’re so comfortable that you forgot to put a condom on, and I had to get plan b.”  Belle stopped and covered her mouth.  

“What did you just say?” Steve looked at her with disbelief.  

“i… I…” Belle didn’t know what to say.  She hadn’t meant to tell Steve like that.  

Steve took her hand and dragged her back to the party.  He found Bucky.  “We need to go.”  

“I was going to head to Lila’s parents for dinner after dropping you off.” Bucky looked for her.  

“It’s fine Buck.  I’ll just take a cab.  Enjoy your time with your girl.” Steve turned and continued to pull Belle.  

“Steve, please.”  

“No.  We are not communicating like we promised so we need to go somewhere and talk.” They made it to the main road and Steve flagged a cab down.  Once they got on the road, Steve and Belle sat quietly.  

“Steve…”  

“No. not right now.  Belle, just, let me process this right now.”  Steve felt horrible.  He thought back to Friday where he remembered to put protection on but he couldn’t remember if he did on Saturday.  He was always responsible.  He always had a plan.  But he fucked up royally with this.  At the same time, he was furious with Belle for keeping this from him.  He would have done everything for her, made sure she wasn’t alone in this.  

They made it to Manhattan in good time.  Steve paid the driver and they went up to his apartment.  When they walked in, Belle gasped.  Steve had forgotten and a small smile graced his face.  

The apartment was decorated with balloons and roses were every on every surface of the living room. A banner of ‘Congratulations’ hung over the fireplace.  “Steve…” 

“I wanted to celebrate you tonight. I’m proud of you. I wanted to make sure you knew how proud I was.”  He shuffled his feet.  “I didn’t see us coming back to argue.”  He looked up.  “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I don’t know.”  

“That’s not a good enough answer Isabella.”  

“What do you want me to say Steve? I was scared.  You’re the only person I’ve ever been with.” 

“You should have said something.” Steve ran his hands through his hair. “What happens next?” 

“I take a test in four weeks just to be sure.” Belle hugged herself. “Steve, what did you expect?   I never went on birth control.  We weren’t careful.  We haven’t talked.” Belle held in her sob in.  “We never talked about any of this.”  

Steve stopped breathing.  She was right we never talked about it.  In fact, they hadn’t talked about much. “I’m sorry.  You’re right, we haven’t stopped and talked about this.”  

“No, we haven’t.  I haven’t signed yet but we haven’t even discussed anything beyond me not wanting to be marked.”  

“This isn’t about the contract!” 

“This has everything to do with it.”  

“What does that mean?”  

“It means that I’m not sure if I want this life.  To be worried that you won’t be there, that I’ll be alone again. I don’t want to be alone. I want to sleep next to you and we can’t because of some stupid contract.  So no, I don’t think I can do this.”  

“Isabella, you don’t mean that.”  

“I don’t know that I don’t.  everything about this is different.  I want more.  I want to have people who stay in my life.  Can you promise me that?” 

“I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want that.”  Steve was trying not to show his feelings. The very real feelings he had developed for the violet eyed beauty.  She rocked his world off his axis and he didn’t want to go back. But he couldn’t. To place her in the line of fire.  Because of her position.  As his partner, his love, his wife.  

“Well, you don’t act like it.”  Belle wanted to cry.  “I should go.”  She turned to leave.  

“No, don’t.”  Steve pleaded.  He pulled her roughly in and kissed her hard. “Don’t leave me.” He picked her up and took her to his room.  

“Steve,” she whispered.  

“Sweet pea, let me love you.” Steve laid her on his bed.  He kneeled down in front of her and removed her heels gently.  He massaged the insole of her feet and she groaned. He kissed her ankle and moved up.   

Belle watched as he moved upward, kiss her skin.  She ran her hand in his hair, feeling how soft it was.   Steve growled when she pulled slightly.  “What are you doing sweet pea?” 

“I want to kiss you.”  Her eyes darken, turning her violet eyes to an almost black with lust.  She could see only a sliver of ocean blue in his eyes.  

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.  

“Amore, please.”  

Steve lifted her up to her feet and spun her to pull the zipper down.  He kissed her shoulders as the straps fell, pooling the dress at her feet.  He ran his finger over the edge of her strapless bra before i clipping it and letting it fall.   “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.  

It was slow, sensual. He took his time, kissing her skin, tasting every inch of her.  She in turn touched every piece of skin she reaches, memorizing every ridge, every vein on his body.  He laid her down and tugged her panties off.  He undressed quickly and took her in his arms.  He pulled her on top of him so he can stare.  

He lifted her up and guided her on him. She sank down and the moaned together. He guided her hips to rise up and down until she got used to the feeling. “Steve,” she moaned.  

“God baby, you feel so good.” She rocked her hips and he hissed.  “Belle, please.” She moved faster, moaning louder. Steve placed his thumb on her clit and she started to moan louder.  Steve felt himself getting close.  “Belle, you need to slow down.”  

“No, no, I need this.”  

Steve flipped them and kept going bring her to the brink.  “Steve!” She screamed as she reached her climax.   His thrusts became sloppy and he pulled out.  He cummed on her belly.  He collapsed next to her, both breathing deep.  He got up and grabbed a towel to clean Belle up. He held her until she was asleep.  He looked at Belle, his sweet pea.  He took her to her room so he could clean up.  

After dressing her in a shirt, he went back to his room to change the sheets.  He took a glass of brandy with him.   He sat for a moment.  He decided in that moment that he needed more as well.  He closed his eyes for just a second.  And fell quickly asleep. 

Belle woke up disoriented.  She wasn’t in Steve’s room any longer but in her at the apartment.  It broke her.  When he pleaded with her not to leave, she assumed that things would change.  They wouldn’t.  She got up and took a shower, dressing in her clothes, not the ones Steve gave her.  She packed a few things she would need at home.  Her bunny, her blanket.  She left the perfume, unsure if she could smell it again and not think of the romantic nights with Steve.  She sat at the desk and pulled a sheet of paper.  

Steve,   This is really hard to write.   You were the unexpected.  You changed my world. You are amazing.    First I want to say thank you.  Thank you for taking care of me when I needed it.  Thank you for being there for me.  The last few weeks have been a dream.  I don’t regret anything about our time together.  Except for a few things.   I need more. I know you said that it wouldn’t be more than this.  But I need more.  I need the security of knowing my partner will sleep beside me, will hold my hand, will never be too busy for me.    When I lost my dad, I lost my compass, my direction.  I thought I found it with you.   I’m sorry.  I fell in love with you and I’m sorry.  I know that wasn’t what you wanted but I can’t lie to myself anymore. I don’t know how you feel but I can assume as I sit in my room alone that you don’t.   I’ve left everything you provided in its place. I can’t do this.  I can’t be what you wanted.  I can’t fulfill your needs. I will send you a message when I know the results.  I wouldn’t want to leave you in the dark.    Please be good and well.  It would break me to know that you didn’t.  This is not a reflection of you, just of your needs.  I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough.   I love you Steven G Rogers.   I hope you find what you are looking for.   With all of my love, amore.   Belle.  

Belle left the letter on her desk and made it out to the living room.  She took in the decorations once more and noticed a velvet box on the table.  She opened it out of curiosity and saw a diamond tennis bracelet with a single letter in the middle.  S.  It was to be her marker, his show of possession for her.  It was beautiful and simple.  But no longer hers.  She wiped a single team away and walked to the door.  She made it to the elevator and out to the front of the building.  

It was still early, about 5 AM, the city relatively quiet.  She walked to the subway and sat, making her way to Jersey.  She thought about how she still needed to pack.  She hadn’t had the chance to mention to Steve that she had found a place in Manhattan with Lila to be closer to work.  No need now.  As she walked the few blocks to her apartment, she took in the cool and calm morning.  It was May and the flowers were on display.  

She made it to the apartment to find it vacant.  Lila must have stayed at her folks.  That was better.  She needed time.  Time to process, time to mourn.  Time to forget about the loss of the love of her life.  She took out the bunny, clutched it to her chest and cried. 

NEXT

Taglist:

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@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

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@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 2: Mrs. White

Thankfully on top of Bond’s knowledge of being a spy, I’ve also picked up on his knowledge of proper dress attire. My apartment’s closet may be small, but I’ve filled any available closet space with clothing for every kind of occasion. Tonight, I decide on an emerald green dress with a v-neck. Not short enough to be distracting, but something a nun might frown at. Paired with silver earrings and simple black flats, my appearance seems reasonable.

“Wish me luck, Cricket.” I give a wave goodbye to the gray tabby as I shut the door.

M seems to have spared no expense, because when I exit my apartment building I find a sleek black Bentley waiting for me. The driver ushers me in without a word and drives straight to the glamorous Blixen. It’s mid-evening, which has produced a decent crowd of wealthy patrons. If it weren’t for my business here I’d feel very out of place. I walk up to the host, about to question about a table-

“Ah, Mrs. White. Your husband is expecting you!” The host greets me and begins leading me down the aisle.

Husband?! Is this what Bond goes through on a daily basis? This new Quartermaster better be as nice as Eve insists, because this whole situation feels like a gag. The host shows me to a table near the back next to a window that displays a gorgeous view of the city. It’s empty, meaning that my ‘husband’ is yet to show.

“Mr. White said he was running late, but you should still order anything you like. Our special tonight is lamb and chickpea stew. Please, enjoy!”

“Many thanks to you, sir.”

I unfold the menu and discreetly begin searching the surrounding patrons for any potential threats. There are none, only a few happy drunks near the bar. I check my watch, seeing that ten minutes have passed. Is this whole thing a joke-?

“Well hello there, Mrs. White.”

My made-up name almost makes me smile. The voice that said it seems strange, almost-

I look up, and almost think the lanky man has the wrong table. His face is young enough to pass as a college bloke, almost child-like. Dark, quirky eyebrows are arched over his brown eyes, full of curiosity. Simple glasses with a black lining cover these inquiring eyes. He’s wearing a very elegant suit, though not as expensive as Bond’s. Coincidentally his tie’s color is almost identical to my dress. I’ll admit he does clean up nice for a younger fellow. If it weren’t for his disheveled brown hair I’d say he was on a first date trying to impress me.

“Hello, Mr. White. I didn’t think they’d allow anyone to have such a messy haircut. I'm even required to keep mine up.”

The geeky man seems unfazed by my comment and settles down in the chair across from me, giving the menu a good search. 

“I don’t do field work.”

My face can’t suppress a smirk. “Of course. You’re just the nerd behind the computer.”

Now I’ve got his attention because his eyes shift up to look at me, almost seeming to belittle me. “I’m the nerd behind the computer that can save your life, agent. Do you want this evening’s conversation to be effective or would you rather go down the street to the local pub to chat in a more childish manner?”

We’re left in a silent glaring battle. How does this guy have just as much spunk as Bond? I’ve not known him for five minutes and he’s already referred to me as a child. Two can play at that game.

“I don’t intend to chat with someone who’s mother still ties his shoes. Either tell me why M sent you to mock me or I am leaving.”

The man keeps a laid-back demeanor as he rises and rounds the table to lean down and whisper: “Pardon my french, love, but I’m your fucking Quartermaster and you better listen if you want to make it through your next mission alive. Do I make myself clear?”

His icy words leave me stunned, only being able to nod in response. Thankfully the waiter arrives now to save me from more arguing.

“Good evening, Mr. White. What will you be having this evening?”

“I will only have a cup of hot tea. Earl Gray, please.”

The waiter is surprised by this simple request, as am I. But he masks it well and turns to take my order.

“I’ll have a lavender lemonade martini.”

“Really, dear? I thought you might be hungry.” God this man really gets on my nerves.

“I lost my appetite,” I reply sweetly but with fiery eyes.

Once the waiter leaves looking rather frazzled, the Quartermaster gives me a skeptical look. “I see you picked up Bond’s love for alcohol.”

I shake my head and toy with the silverware. “Not in the slightest. I just really like lemonade. But if I’d ordered that you’d think I was a child compared to your choice of grown-up tea.”

He actually laughs at my small joke. “Earl Gray tea, only the best. But I wouldn’t think of you differently if you ordered lemonade.”

“Hm. So you don’t like alcohol?”

“I don’t drink on the job. Matter of fact, I don't drink at all.”

The waiter is very quick to drop our drinks off despite me trying to give him a friendly smile.

“Very mature of you. Yet it’s strange of you to only order a cup of tea in a fancy place like this. Ever been here, Quartermaster?”

The man sips his steaming mug of tea. “First, call me Q. It’s much easier. Second, no I’ve never been here. This is probably the most expensive restaurant I’ve ever set foot in.”

“So we both agree that M has exquisite taste?”

“Yes. Speaking of which, let’s get back to the task at hand.” Q pauses to take out a messenger bag he’s brought with him, then pulls out a silver necklace with a blue pendant on it. “For you, Mrs. White.”

“Thank you, dear husband,” I mock in the same cheesy tone. “If this whole dinner was to bribe me with jewelry then M obviously doesn’t know me so well.”

“Haha, we’re all laughing,” Q states dryly as his steady hands clip it around my neck. “It’s actually a disguised tracker. And this-” He pulls out a small box from his bag and opens it to reveal a pouch. “This is a sheath for one of our best non-metallic knives. Undetectable, very elegant and light weight. Which is why I named it Mrs. White in your honor.”

“Yeah, um, why the whole charade of you and me? You could’ve just said we were two old friends meeting for a chat.”

“People don’t ask questions when a married couple is involved,” Q replies lazily as he hands me the knife sheath. “It’s designed for you to wear it anywhere in order to avoid suspicion.”

I smirk. “Oh, like my bust?”

Q doesn’t even flinch. “Yes. Obviously Bond’s also schooled you in flirting, so this jewelry as you called it should suffice.”

“You’re having me model the necklace.” I raise a brow. “Would you have me try on the sheath as well?”

Q takes a deep breath. “Moving on. With the state Bond’s left the current espionage situation in, he’ll be sent to Hong Kong and you to Ireland.”

I almost choke on my drink. “You’re splitting us up? Bond and I are usually joined at the hip for missions.”

This seems to pinch something in Q. In the corner of my eye I see his eyes flick up to search my face for something.

“Figuratively or literally?”

Is this jealousy I detect? “Oh don’t flatter me. Bond never acts like that with me. He knows I put business before pleasure. So why Ireland?”

Q relaxes and takes another sip of this tea. “Closer to home. Better for us to keep an eye on you.”

My nose scrunches. “Are you saying I need a babysitter?”

“In a word, yes. You’re one of our youngest agents, which is why you’ve always been paired with someone.”

I take a good swig of spiked lemonade, then stare him square in the face. “Alright, just say it. You don’t think I’m qualified. You’re just like my last Quartermaster, who thought I belonged as a secretary. I may be young, but I am not dumb, Q. Just ask M. She knows I can go the distance.”

No matter how hard I’ve trained I never seem to control my temper. My own self-pride seems to betray me in delicate situations, and this is probably going to make Q dislike me even more.

However Q seems to take my small outburst surprisingly well. He finishes his tea and takes another deep breath. “I understand, agent. Being one who is also part of the outnumbered youth, I’m afraid our stereotyping of being under qualified only dissipates with age. But please let me finish: This time we are sending you on a solo mission under careful surveillance.”

Did- Did I hear that right? Solo mission? Bond guessed I wouldn't be eligible for those for years.

“Are you bluffing? How on Earth did I get waved for a solo mission?”

Q smiles at my giddy reaction. “I pulled a few strings. M and Eve both told me you could handle it.”

Keeping silent, I rise, move around the table, and pull in a surprised Q for a tight hug.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” I whisper with contained excitement.

Q keeps stiff as a board, then grunts. “Um, first off, no hugging the Quartermaster.”

“Why? Are you a germaphobe?”

“I don’t do hugs.”

I partake in his request and release him, still smiling like a madman. “Ah. So how about a handshake?”

He considers this, then nods. “That’s acceptable.”

I vigorously grab his skinny hand and give it a firm shake. “I will not disappoint you!”

Q finally mirrors my smile as we begin to make our way to the cashier. “Better not, darling. I’d hate to have to attend your funeral.”