#but it is all worth it when i get messages like these

[tgcg]

hey guys. this is smth i have been thinking abt doing for a while but tonight i decided 4reel. i'm gonna put the blog on a kinda indefinite hiatus.

things have rlly changed for me & my life, & i need other things to change as well. i dont wanna divulge like... all my shit ere. but i just wanna say thanx to everyone who ever left a reply, kind message, fun ask, even just a like.

the kind of reception this blog got was totally beyond anything i coulda expected. i am still rly floored by it, u guys kindness & generosity. i'm rlly glad i could entertain you all and do right by these 2 guys.

i had so much fun here. making scripts & drawing them out. it's smth i have truly never experienced before & doubt i ever will anywhere else except this here blog. that was truly down to you guys & your enthusiasm and it'll never leave me. like, shit, getting dubs of my comix? fucking insane.

dk has been rly important to me for a rly long time. i became a fan of it over a decade ago. ive talked on da blog before about why i like em so much... so i'll just say here that i also don't rlly think these guys will ever leave me either. i think they were kinda a permanent mark on my development as a person. u can put me so so far away from hs & i'd still express that fondness for em deep down. they're a rlly great duo & i can't say at all that this decision is due to a lack of interest. love u dk <3.

for now i'm just gonna leave the blog as is, but in the future it may become p-word protected, who know... i'm not a fan of creating lost media since archiving obscure shit is a hobby of mine, so... we will "C"...

i'll still be hovering around over at @cgtg. i rlly like doing pwyw requests over there so i can flex my mspaint muscles and give u guys fun stuff. currently those are closed, but yea if ur interested you can drop a follow there & i'll say when they're open. no pressure to run over there tho. i understand that plenty were here for the dk's and i get that.

i might not be leaving this blog alone for good, & i think that's worth stating. who knows what will happen in da future? we're here right now & i'm very glad to have been here *until* now.

pls always have fun, do what you want forever, be kind, & take care. remember above all that youtube is where the poop is.

thanks for hanging out with me. love u all.

-randy tgcg 🙂

[no-144444]

vampire!- o.piastri

summary: oscar gets a new nickname...

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! jack wolff nanny! reader

this is part of a series but can be read as a standalone !

part one | part two | part three

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Oscar rolled out of bed with as much enthusiasm as usual, so none. Was he already late? Yes. Did he really care? No. Did he want to just stay in bed and relax with you all day? Yes. Did you look gorgeous in his bed? Yes. Did he want to stay there forever? Yes. 

But early meetings on track were a very big part of his job, and he’d be murdered if he was late again. 

“Don’t go,” you muttered, just waking up. He sighed and you smiled. 

“Baby I have no choice, I have to-” he was cut off by you kissing him, to which he wasn’t complaining. “Fuck,” he whispered against your lips, which then turned into you straddling him as he pressed kiss after kiss to your neck. Maybe it was the newness of your relationship, maybe it was the fact that he looked so pretty in the mornings, or maybe it was something to do with how persuasive you were, but Oscar finally had to run out the door, already running late for the meeting. 

Worst part? He didn’t regret shit. 

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You walked into the paddock looking like you’d just rolled out of bed (which you had). You had literally come in a pair of pyjama pants and one of Oscar’s hoodies, just grabbing your bag, slipping on some sneakers and leaving his hotel room. All of your makeup was in your hotel anyways, same with your clothes, but you didn’t care. 

Jack came running up to you as you walked into the Mercedes garage, and you picked him up, hugging him. 

“I’m rooting for Oscar today!” he cheered. “He’s my favourite.” 

“After Lewis and George?” you asked and he nodded, giving you a look that said ‘obviously’. You chuckled and put him back down, and he ran over toLewis, chatting animatedly. 

“What is on your neck?” Toto asked, his tone firm. He was pissed. 

You stared back at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes, taking out his phone, snapping a picture of you, and showing it to you. 

Oscar was dead. A huge, huge hickey on the right side of your neck. You clapped a hand over it, and another over your mouth. 

“Shit,” you cursed. “I must’ve really burnt myself. I didn’t think it would bruise so badly,” you lied (rather convincingly), but Toto was having none of it. 

“We’re going on a little field trip to McLaren,” he told you and you deflated. “Come on!”

Jack held your hand as you crossed the paddock, walking into the McLaren motorhome. 

Immediately, Toto found Oscar and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him aside. 

“Toto, come on-” you started. 

“Me and Oscar are going to have a conversation, go take jack to see Lando please,” he smiled, but it was one of his scary smiles. You grimaced and mouthed Oscar a ‘sorry’. 

Oscar looked traumatised when he walked back in. He walked over to you and apologised for the ‘issue’, and barely made eye-contact. 

You groaned, looking at Toto. “You broke my boyfriend!”

Toto shrugged, taking Jack’s hand. “Too bad.” 

Off they went back to Mercedes, and you took Oscar’s hand. “You alright?”

“He’s very protective, and he did say that George would do everything in his power to shove me off the track tomorrow,” he admitted. “But it’s fine. You’re worth it.”

You felt yourself smiling. “Ever the charmer Piastri.”

He shrugged. “What else would I be?” he smirked. 

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F1 GOSSIP:

OSCAR PIASTRI SEEN TAKING TO TOTO WOLFF TODAY!

Today, Oscar Piastri (McLaren Driver) was seen speaking with Mercedes team boss Toto Wolff. They seemed to be having a heated discussion, could it have been about a possible future contract?! 

Read all about it here! ->

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You stared down at your phone with a sigh and sent the article to Oscar, and Toto.

You were too busy with Jack to actually go visit Oscar and talk about the article, but you just assumed he’d seen your message. 

He hadn’t. 

When he was brought straight to the media pen after sprint quali, he was confused about the amount of Mercedes- themed questions. 

“WHAT IS YOUR OPINION ON KIMI ANTONELLI?” “ARE YOU CLOSE WITH GEORGE RUSSELL?” “WHAT’S YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH TOTO LIKE?” “ARE YOU CONSIDERING A MOVE?”

He just answered the questions as well as he could until someone finally just asked him straight. 

“Why were you seen with Toto Wolff outside the McLaren motorhome today?” 

Oscar burst out laughing. “That’s what all of this is about?” he asked and the interviewer nodded. “It was just about a personal matter, nothing to do with contracts or anything.”

“What was that personal matter?” 

Oscar had backed himself into a corner, it was just own fault. “Um… it was just something about something.”

The interviewer chuckled. “Oscar, we’re going to need more than that.”

“I can answer,” Toto interjected. “This vampire couldn’t keep his lips to himself!” 

“Is this about Oscar and Y/n’s closeness recently?”

Toto nodded. 

“Are they a couple?”

“I fucking hope so, considering what he did to her!” Toto scoffed. “Fucking vampire!” He said before walking off, the interviewer was left with Oscar, who was blushing very badly, and laughing very hard. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Oscar walked into his hotel room, silently praying that you’d be there. His prayers were answered when he found you in the bathroom in one of his t-shirts, brushing your teeth. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and held you tight. “Toto is fucking crazy,” he chuckled. 

You nodded, laughing. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “You’re worth it.”

“Chessy,” you teased, leaving the bathroom with him behind you. He dropped his bag on the floor and took your outstretched hand, landing the both of you on the bed.

“You love it,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. 

You smiled at him. “I do.”

He pressed his lips to yours, hoping that  it wasn’t the last time he’d hear you say that.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[nomynameisnothing]

Reminds me of something I was thinking about earlier today, pretty perfectly actually.

I went to an all girls Christian camp every summer for 2 weeks to ride horses and go backpacking when I was in my teen years.

I was a streadfast ultracynical atheist then. I felt I had a duty to disprove everything about religion. I thought believing in god meant you were stupid.

I always did my best to poke holes in all the bible stories and find a way to prove that they didnt make any sense.

My cabin leader was the sweetest person I've ever met, so friendly and wholesomely christian.

I said to her, "How can you believe in something when there are so many holes... so many things that dont add up?"

She said that she imagined her faith like a cabin. Like a home, somewhere she felt protected with a roof over her head to ride out the bad weather. She said, "Yes, there are cracks and holes in the walls but thats where the light shines through. Thats faith."

The knowing that comes from deeply understanding your place in the universe and in this life; from understanding the laws that govern the soul and trusting in your connection with spirit to guide and protect you every step of the way.

I understand that now

Not because its comforting or convenient, but because I see the evidence. I get it now.

Its faith in laws in the universe in uncharted dimensions of phsyics that have yet to be defined.

I believe this is now the time when we can make that leap and bridge the gap between quantum physics and spirituality. They are not so different. One is just unproven because it is the study of phenomena that can't be empirically tested. The laws of nature still prevail.

As above, so below.

What does Acts 19:19 mean?

The people of Ephesus are learning what real supernatural power looks like. Like all pagans in the Roman Empire, they have household idols and city gods; they are known for the temple of Artemis. They also have a culture of witchcraft, which attracts demons, which attract Jewish exorcists.

This is the state of the city when Paul arrives. In response to all the magic, the Holy Spirit empowers him to heal and expel demons in Jesus' name. Jewish magicians hear him and start using "Jesus" as a kind of magical word. When seven sons of a Jewish high priest named Sceva enter a house and try to use Jesus' name to expel a powerful demon, the evil spirit attacks them, and the would-be exorcists run out in the street (Acts 19:11–16).

The whole city hears, and many of the practitioners of witchcraft immediately respond. Likely, they realize their spells and incantations don't really control demons, but Paul does. First, they reveal their practices, thus voiding them of power (Acts 19:17–18). Now, they burn their spells. "Ephesian writing," or Ephesia grammata, is a reference to written-down spells, some rolled into small containers and worn as amulets. If the pieces of silver are silver drachma, the value would be something close to 150 years' worth of a laborer's wages.

It's not uncommon for an unbeliever to see the power of Jesus and want to use it to gain influence and money. Simon the Magician did so in Samaria (Acts 8:9–24). But sometimes people are just waiting for rescue. When criticized for eating with unsavory people, Jesus said He came for the sick who need a doctor (Mark 2:15–17). When Zacchaeus heard Jesus, he gratefully accepted Jesus' message and His love and resolved to return what he had cheated (Luke 19:1–10). As Paul works, the demons flee left and right (Acts 19:12). Maybe the magicians just need someone to rescue them.

by Remedios Varo

[ellieslittleslutt]

Brewed ❀

MEN AND MINORS DNI!!

pairings: barista!ellie x journalist!reader

the barista you visit every morning finally makes her move.

cw: none really reader is called pretty girl once and smoking? also swearing

a/n: AHHH I LOVE THIS. definitely writing a part two

wc- 1k

not proof read

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“have a nice day” she smiled at you. the kind of smile that just makes you melt. you smile back at her trying to ignore how your cheeks heat up “you too” you said turning around each step you melt further into the floor.

it was always her. that one independent cafe that charges $8 for a coffee, you thought it was worth it just to see her smile and say that line she was scripted into saying. every morning on your way to work you would stop by to order the same thing each morning, a hot latte to go with a small sandwich. on your days off you’d take the time to sit down and get some work done with your order.

this morning was no different. while you walked to work sipping on your coffee and taking a bite of your sandwich you noticed the cup had a message on it ‘you’re beautiful enjoy your coffee!!’. you couldn’t help but take a photo of it sending it to your friend lidia.

lils- get her number!

you- idek know her name how tf am i supposed to do that?

lils- she wears a name tag no? just go off that

you- pretty sure it’s fake

lils- how do you know?

you- just doesn’t fit her… whatever i’ll talk more when i get to work

when you got to work you sat down at your desk looking at the stories you have to research made but your boss. “seriously?” you mumbled to yourself as you looked at the long list when suddenly lidia pokes her head in “so cute barista?” she teased sitting next to you.

you sigh “yeah anyway think her name tag is fake it just doesn’t match her” you tell her sipping your coffee while starting your typing “well what does she look like?” she asks leaning against your desk. you think back to each time you saw her and every little detail of her “shoulder length auburn hair, always has it in a half up bun but sometimes a low bun which makes her look so pretty, pale green eyes and freckles”. lidia just chuckles “jesus you’re down bad huh?”

“shut up” you mumble your cheeks red as you hit the side of her arm and she laughs putting her hands up “what stating the facts we get paid for it” she smiles at you and back at the note on you’re cup “so think she likes you?”

“i don’t know maybe she just said that for tips? i used to do that” you shrug and you continue working on your computer “well you could just ask for her numberrr” she says again raising an eyebrow at you, rolling your eyes you go back to typing “like i said im not doing that… ill get her name first or whatever”

⋆｡˚𖦹

thay weekend you went on with your routine, heading to the cafe with your laptop and note pad to try and get some articles done so your boss gets off your ass. you sat down with your usual smiling at the barista when she walked by you.

you smile back at her then look at your coffee seeing another message written in it ‘you look like and angel’. your heart almost explode and you swear you almost passed out. you look back at her and she was leaning against the counter watching you with that smirk. god she was so hot. she gave you a wink before standing up going back to work.

⋆｡˚𖦹

over the course of the next two weeks ellie would leave little messages on your coffee cup or the paper bag of your sandwich. each time you took a picture getting all giggly and happy. you found yourself looking forward to it each morning.

one weekend you got up getting ready in your go to cold weather outfit. you had gotten your bag and keys going to the cafe with a smile. when you got there you saw ellie taking an order from some guy. you sat down opening your laptop and hopped to get a few articles written. with all the holidays this time around your boss had you working harder with more stories to write.

you stayed a few hours the barista serving you and you got your little message. this time while she was taking all the dishes she left a napkin with a proud smile. ‘my shift ends in a few minutes meet me outside ;)’ classic.

you quickly got all your things putting the napkin in your bag. you went outside to the front to see her sitting at a table on her phone smoking a cigarette. she looked up at you and smiled sitting up “hey” she said with a smile. her voice oh my lord you were dying.

“hi” you said nervously and sat down. you honestly had no clue what to do. your flirting game was abysmal. she offered you a cigarette and you took it taking a puff off it.

you both got to talking for a bit. she told you her name was ellie. it suit her really well. with her style and her eyes everything suit her. she told you that the cafe was only a small part time kid she took every morning and she really worked at the clinic in the afternoons. that explained why she was never there for lunch.

you told her you were a journalist and she tilted her head “no way who’s your boss?” she asked with a chuckle “maria miller you know her?” “yeah she’s my aunt” you chuckled looking at her “small world huh?” “more like town everyone knows each other here” she shrugged.”

when it got to around 1 pm ellie looked back at you “ah shit gotta head to the clinic.” she mumbled grabbing her bag “yeah it’s getting cold staying out here” you replied standing up too.

“i’ll give you my number pretty girl?” she asked with a smirk holding her phone. pretty girl? it niagara falls down there. you flushed bright red and smiled handing her your phone and she put in her number “well i would love to do this again? how about i take you out on a proper date? dinner maybe? can you do tomorrow 7pm?” all you could do was giggle and nod “yeah yeah i can make that” you reply still nervous.

“i’ll see you around” ellie says putting a hand on your arm before walking away.

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taglist: @autisticintr0vert @eveshyper @soodle-noup @puppywilliams

[letsgoletsgetit08]

...they were roommates

summary: Hongjoong is at his wit's end with his new roommate. His new roommate, whom he finds out has a surprising way of making money.

warnings/tags: mdni, 18+, explicit smut, spanking, counting, safe/sane/consensual, light dom/sub, jung wooyoung likes being told what to do

pairings: dom!kim hongjoong x sub!jung wooyoung, cam boy!jung wooyoung

author's note: This is loosely based on canon events of Wooyoung admitting he liked it when Hongjoong bossed him around.

word count: 3,246

ao3 link: ...they were roommates

...they were roommates

Hongjoong didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He had thought it was fiscally responsible to sublet his spare bedroom for the school year, but he was quickly realizing there’s a reason people warn you about strangers on the internet. He knew that Wooyoung had been listening intently when he explained the house rules. He even repeated them back to him. 

So why was he so blatantly determined to ignore every single last one?

It was almost like he was doing it on purpose! 

The rules weren’t anything crazy either:

1) Keep the kitchen clean, wash your dishes after using them

2) I keep odd hours so I would appreciate it if you warned me if you have someone/are bringing someone over

3) Common areas are off limits for sex

4) Pay your rent on time

But Hongjoong could almost predict as he walked into the kitchen, there would be a coffee mug, a bowl, and chopsticks in the kitchen sink. 

Usually he loved being right. 

But after pulling an all-nighter, getting less than glowing reviews from his music production studio professor that morning, and to top it all off, the muted noises of sex obviously coming from the younger’s bedroom, this was the last straw. 

Hongjoong was not a prude. He felt that was worth noting. And don’t get him wrong, he definitely expected someone bright and handsome with siren eyes and an addictively animated laugh like Wooyoung to bring home sexual partners, but he never expected it to be so often. It seemed like every other day he was subjected to toe-curling noises from the man’s room. And yes, although he would never admit it to Wooyoung, due to his own schedule being crazy and having zero spare time to date around, sometimes Hongjoong touched himself to the noises, making up his own scenario in his head. But he would never ever admit that. 

He knew he was probably about to walk in on a sight that would be burned into his brain forever, but he had to admit, Wooyoung was full of surprises.

He barged into Wooyoung’s room unannounced, ready to tell him off, and was met with the sight of the man alone, spread out on his bed, completely naked, with ring lights, his phone on a tripod, and a second camera set up filming from a different angle, lubed up, fully hard cock being stroked in his hand. And he didn’t stop when Hongjoong walked in. Which was maybe the most surprising part. 

Hongjoong was too sleep-deprived and annoyed to not shake out of it and deliver his message anyway, ignoring the drool pooling in his mouth at the sight. He was so touch-starved, and he was just being hit with how badly he missed it. “Wooyoung,” he said, sternly, “Do you remember the rules you agreed to when you moved in?”

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered, his hand slowed slightly, surprised at the other’s tone of voice, “Yes, I do.” He said breathlessly.

“Good. Then you’ll take care of the dishes in the sink before I wake up in the morning.” Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice that his authoritative presence seemed to be… turning Wooyoung on?

The younger dared to smirk, hand picking up the pace, bratty as ever, “Or what?”

His own dick was filling in as he watched the man get closer to the brink of release, “Or what? You don’t want to know, Wooyoung. But be sure that I will figure out a way to punish you for your behavior. Show me that you understand.”

Wooyoung’s breath became shaky and he held Hongjoong’s eye contact as he said, “Yes sir.” In a strained voice.

“Good boy.” Hongjoong said, which was followed by Wooyoung releasing all over his own hand and stomach, head thrown back, his open mouth slowly turning into a smile as he came down. 

Hongjoong turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him, making quick work of his pants on his walk to his own bedroom, barely having to touch himself as the image of Wooyoung getting off was burned so vividly onto the backs of his eyelids, hips bucking as he found his own release. 

What the fuck just happened. 

They did not speak about what happened. 

But the dishes were clean and put away the next morning. And it was okay with Hongjoong that they didn't talk about it. 

But as the days went on, Wooyoung seemed to crave his attention more and more, coming by his room to ask him questions he definitely knew the answer to, appearing in the kitchen when he heard Hongjoong in there, happening to leave his room (shirtless) when he predicted Hongjoong would be in a common area. It all culminated a few days later when Hongjoong was working on his laptop in the living room and Wooyoung walked through right as Hongjoong’s stomach let out a loud growl, obviously hungry. He actually couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. 

Wooyoung plopped himself down on the couch next to him, reaching up to pull his headphone gently off of his ear, a bright smile on his face as he leaned in to ask, “Anything I can do to help with that?”

Hongjoong huffed through his nose, “You could be useful for once and cook us dinner.” He said, cocking an eyebrow, challenging. 

He could almost swear he saw Wooyoung shiver at the instruction, “If I cook for us, you have to take a break and eat with me.” He poked his bottom lip out, pouting. 

“If I take a break with you to eat, you have to clean up the kitchen afterwards.” Hongjoong shot back. 

“No fair!” Wooyoung whined. 

“I didn’t say I was fair,” Hongjoong grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist, pulling his hand off his headphone, daring to stroke it gently with his thumb before placing it gently onto the younger’s lap, “What are you waiting for?” He asked as he turned back to his laptop, putting his headphone in place once more. 

Maybe he was cracking the code on this whole roommate situation. 

And he was good to his word, he pointedly picked up his laptop and deposited it onto his desk in his bedroom, closing the door behind him after Wooyoung came by to tell him dinner was ready. Wooyoung was a good cook, and he told him as much, delighting as he watched the man preen with the praise. 

“I want to play a game,” Wooyoung announced as he all but pranced over to the table with a chilled, unopened bottle of soju in one hand, a pair of shot glasses in another. 

“A game?” Hongjoong’s curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t deny it. 

“Mhm,” Wooyoung nodded as he poured two shots, “It’s Friday night, Hongjoong. Can your project wait until tomorrow? You deserve to let loose and have fun occasionally, you know.”

Hongjoong sighed, thinking about it. Really he did have plenty of time to finish his assignment over the weekend, even if he spent half of tomorrow hungover. And really, truthfully, he was becoming increasingly curious about Wooyoung. He would like to see where this was going. “Okay. Fine. You got me. What game do you want to play, Woo?”

Wooyoung blushed at the shortening of his name, “I want to know more about you. It’s been almost two months and we barely have spoken to each other. So I want to take turns asking each other questions. If we don’t want to answer, take a shot.” He smiled smugly. Pleased with his own genius idea.

“Seems fair enough to me,” Hongjoong concluded, “But let’s move to the couch, these chairs suck.” And I don’t want a hunk of wood separating us, he thought to himself as they relocated. 

Wooyoung sat next to him on the couch, cross-legged, so they could face each other. 

“You can start.” He offered to the younger. 

“Okay. When was the last time you had sex?” Wooyoung gave him an impish grin after asking.

“Oh, look! Soju!” Hongjoong said as he grabbed his shot glass off the coffee table and threw it back. 

“Aw boo, you're no fun!” Wooyoung whined. 

Hongjoong ignored him, “Did you post the video with my voice in the background?” He asked as he felt the warmth from the alcohol move through his body. 

“No way,” Wooyoung looked offended, “I would never post anything with you in it, at least not without your consent first.” 

Hongjoong didn't know why he was surprised but he was glad that Wooyoung seemed to be considerate, have some sort of decorum, moral code, “Okay, good. Thank you.” 

Wooyoung reached over and squeezed his knee, “Of course. Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum. My turn!” He pretended to think about it, “Did you get off?” His voice had turned husky, “After you walked in the other day?”

Hongjoong felt heat swirl in his abdomen, blood rush to his cheeks, “Was I that obvious?” He met Wooyoung’s eyes sheepishly, the other’s were half-lidded, hungry. They both were subconsciously sipping on their soju in between questions, probably out of nervous habit.

“Is that your question?” He asked. 

“Is that yours?” He replied. 

“No.”

“Exactly.”

“Yes, you were that obvious. Ask me if I thought it was hot.” Wooyoung was leaning in now.

He felt himself swallow, “Did you think it was hot?”

Wooyoung winked and took a shot.

“You brat!” Hongjoong accosted him. 

“You like it,” Wooyoung simpered as he refilled his glass.

“Maybe.” He leaned in as well, “You like being told what to do, don't you?”

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered slightly, “Yes. And you like being in charge?”

“Definitely. How do you feel about being spanked?”

A blush crept up Wooyoung’s neck, “Mmh, good. Definitely good. You know I'll need aftercare, right?”

“Absolutely. Safe word?”

“Chrysanthemum.”

“Um, bless you?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “It's my birth month flower.”

“My room or yours?” Hongjoong asked as he reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind the younger’s ear, noting how he leaned into the touch.

“It's my turn!” Wooyoung was more busy staring through Hongjoong's eyes straight into his soul than he was actually protesting. 

“Jagi,” Hongjoong's hand traced down the other’s face, thumb landing on his bottom lip, “I really don't care.” 

He closed the gap between their mouths, earning a squeak of surprise that quickly turned into a moan from the younger. 

Hongjoong had missed this, he hated to admit to himself. It had been far too long. 

Their lips slotted together like they had done this a thousand times before, soft, exploratory kisses quickly turning hungry, needy. Hongjoong grabbed Wooyoung’s chin, turning their heads to the side as he licked into the other’s mouth, greedily sucking on his tongue, pulling another delicious moan from his mouth.

Wooyoung pulled back, “Oppa,” he panted, “I'm not doing those dishes.” 

“I know.” He kissed down his jawline, “But you're going to make it up to me. You'll be good for me, won't you, baby?” 

A sharp intake of breath as he nipped as his earlobe, “Yes. Yes sir.” 

“Mmh,” Hongjoong attached his lips to the sensitive spot behind his ear, marking him, “So sensitive.”

He didn't give Wooyoung a chance to react, instead opting to reach down and start pulling the his shirt off, following with his own, before standing up and offering him his hand, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He led them into Wooyoung’s bedroom, knowing his roommate had condoms and lube (and probably plenty of other things) unlike himself, who was on at least a year long dry spell. Wooyoung didn't question it, just did as he was told. 

They shed their clothes quickly, Wooyoung gasping as he finally was able to see Hongjoong fully naked, “I've literally never seen you go to the gym or work out, how the fuck do you look so good?” 

Hongjoong blushed, “Shut up.”

“Make me.” Wooyoung challenged. 

“Hands and knees on the bed.” He said, kissing him lewdly before shoving him backwards onto mattress. 

He watched as the younger complied, feeling his dick fully harden at the sight of Wooyoung presenting himself, pretty cock hanging uselessly, already dripping precum. 

“Supplies are in the bedside table.” Wooyoung informed him as he made his way around the edge of the bed, “Perfect.”

He pulled out a condom and lube, put them within reachable distance on the bed, then climbed up behind the miles of velvety smooth honey skin waiting for him. 

Hongjoong grasped one of his ass cheeks, rubbing it gently, “You understand why I have to do this right, Youngie?”

“Yes sir,” He replied, breathless.

“Good,” he drew back his hand and landed the first spank, earning a startled gasp, followed by a whine as he soothed the sting with his hand, “Count for me, darling.” 

“One,” Wooyoung whimpered. 

Hongjoong barely let him get the word out before landing the next slap to his other ass cheek this time. 

“Two!” He exclaimed instinctively, nearly in shock.

“Mmh, very good, what a quick learner you are.” Hongjoong praised, as he reached for the lube, applying it to his fingers before starting to slowly circle the tight rim that was being presented to him. He drew his other hand back and landed the third strike, this one slightly harder. 

Wooyoung gasped, “Fuck. Three.” 

Hongjoong slipped his first finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, enjoying how he was being drawn in. He struck again. 

“Four.” He whined, but his hips moved greedily towards Hongjoong, obviously enjoying himself. 

“You like this, don't you baby?” Hongjoong teased as he added a second finger, letting the other adjust to it before spanking him again. Wooyoung gasped but couldn’t seemed to get words out. “Use your words, love.” Hongjoong instructed. 

“Yes,” His hips bucked as Hongjoong curled his fingers, finding his prostate, “Yes I like it.”

“What else?”

“Oh,” He was already so fucked out and they had barely started, “Five.”

Hongjoong smiled, said, “Good boy,” before landing the next one. 

“Six!” Wooyoung panted.

“I bet you could get off just like this, couldn't you?” Hongjoong stroked his ass cheek as he added a third finger. 

“Probably.” 

“Do you think you can cum twice, jagi?” Hongjoong whispered, scissoring his fingers, landing another slap. 

“Seven. Yes. Please. God yes, I'm so close already.” He sounded so desperate. It was hot. 

Hongjoong was steadily hitting his prostate, “Okay, good. You can cum on ten.” He spanked him again. 

“Eight” 

Another.

“Nine!”

Finally.

“Ten!” And he was pouring out onto the bed as Hongjoong coaxed him through it, slowing the pace of his fingers as he clenched around them. 

“Oh, what a good boy,” He removed his fingers, guiding the younger onto his back so as to avoid landing in the mess he had just made. 

Wooyoung was sweating, panting, he looked so fucking good, Hongjoong thought he might eat him for dessert. 

He kissed the inside of Wooyoung’s knee, working up his thigh, letting the other catch his breath for a minute as he kissed and sucked, feeling almost painfully hard at the idea that he would be covered in marks. Claimed. 

He was surprised at how fast the man was filling back up with arousal. Soon, he was begging, “Fuck, Hongjoong, please.”

“Please what, darling?” 

“Please, I need you inside of me.” 

“Mmh.” He pulled back to quickly roll the condom on, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He applied more lube, then positioned himself between Wooyoung’s legs, teasing him by dragging his cock everywhere except for where he wanted him. 

Wooyoung arched off the bed, trying to find friction, grabbing for Hongjoong's hips. 

“No, no, baby.” He grabbed his hands and pinned them over his head as he finally lined himself up, starting to push in, “Hands to yourself.”

Wooyoung felt incredible, greedily sucking him in. So wet, hot, tight. 

Incredible. 

Fucking incredible. 

He took his time pressing in for as long as he could stand it, before finally burying himself to the hilt, Wooyoung’s legs wrapping around his waist. 

He paused to let the other adjust before finally landing his first thrust. Slow. Languid. Almost lazy. 

Wooyoung’s hips bucked, he whined, needy. 

Hongjoong took pity, started fucking him for real, leaning forward to graze his teeth lightly over the younger’s nipple, earning a gutteral moan in response. 

“So reactive, jagiya. You're so much fun.” He didn't wait for a response, just attached his lips to his nipple, sucking as he set a steady rhythm. 

It was probably stupid to fuck him missionary. He feared he would catch feelings. 

He feared he already had started to, position of choice be damned. 

“M so close, Joongie. Fuck. Feel so good.”

He pulled back, kissing his way up the younger's chest, up his neck, “Go ahead, gorgeous. You can let go.”

He really followed instructions so well. Hongjoong followed closely behind, feeling a little bad that he was probably overstimulating him, but by the look on his face, and the way his legs latched tight around his hips, he liked that, too. 

He collapsed on Wooyoung’s chest, both of them spent, laying panting together before he finally pulled out, discarded the condom. He returned to the bed quickly, pulling Wooyoung to his chest, stroking his hair, kissing his forehead, praising him, “You did so well, baby. You were so good. It wasn't too much, was it?”

Wooyoung shook his head, “No way. It was perfect. Thank you.” 

Hongjoong smiled into his sweaty hair, “No, thank you.” 

They showered together, Hongjoong carefully washing Wooyoung’s hair, being gentle with him, making sure he knew how cared for he was. Aftercare, yes, but Hongjoong felt there was more behind it. It was totally possible he was developing feelings for his roommate. 

“Um, Joong?” Wooyoung asked carefully as they toweled off together. 

“What's up?” 

“Can we… well. I really do better being held afterwards. It doesn't have to be all night!-”

Hongjoong cut him off, “Sleep in my bed, jagi. I'm more than happy to have you.”

Hongjoong fell asleep easily with Wooyoung tucked into his chest, his rhythmic heartbeat, his steady breath, his weight and warmth. 

He woke up to an empty bed, hearing a clattering in the kitchen, Wooyoung's voice as he was singing to himself carried to his bedroom. 

He was doing the dishes. 

Hongjoong came up behind him, wrapped his arms around his waist, making the other jump at the contact before relaxing into it once he realized what was happening. He laid kisses down his neck in greeting, meeting Wooyoung’s lips as he turned his head, asking for it. The angle was weird but they made it work. 

And that's how Hongjoong ended up giving Wooyoung head in their kitchen. 

The next few weeks went just about like that, in fact, if you asked him, Hongjoong wasn't sure there was a surface in their apartment that they hadn't had sex on at this point. It wasn't until Hongjoong woke up in Wooyoung’s bed for the third night in a row when they hadn't even had sex the night before to warrant it, that they ever breached the subject of what they were. 

“Youngie?” He pulled him close to his chest, “Be my boyfriend?”

Wooyoung giggled, “I've been yours since the first day when you walked in on me, Joong.” 

And that was that. 

The first video they posted together on Only Fans was Wooyoung's most popular to date. 

Maybe they had truly figured out this whole roommate situation.

[nmakii]

the look of love, the rush of blood

— what it means to date nagi seishiro, but not actually date him

yes this all happened sue me writers are thieves. omfg this id os humiliating to acc write down why is my life like this guys. btw can u guys like… gen tell me what u think ab this dynamic in comments i have to know im so bad at relationships

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means staying up until 2 AM together. it’s finals week, and you’re supposed to be studying. but nagi wanted to play dress to impress with you, and promised he’d help you study after 5 or so rounds.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means everyone at school thinking you’re dating. even reo asked if you have feelings for him, and when you insistently said no, he replied, “alright, alright..! just trying to make sure nagi doesn’t end up hurt.” so that nagi doesn’t end up hurt? what does that even mean?

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means starting volleyball together. you always meant to pick up a sport sooner or later, but you were too old. it’ll be embarrassing to pick one up this late! you told nagi about this, and he said, “i mean… it’s a lot less running than in football, so maybe i’ll try it out with you?”

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means him watching your favorite anime for you. nagi always said that it wasn’t his type of show, you never really expected him to actually watch it. but one day you get a message— “finished s1, but i cant find s2… not on netflix? :x” from then on, he practically enabled you to keep ranting about the show, and he even got a little shocked when you had told him a fake spoiler.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means him insisting to pay him back, but not actually doing anything about it. occasionally, when nagi isn’t too tired, the two of you meet up for breakfast in the morning. he lives closer to school, so he usually always gets there earlier. you always ask him to buy your order and he agrees, only on the condition you pay him back. you always pay him back with baked goods, and he always eats them up. and, he still insists he wants his cash back! you’ve given him cookies and brownies worth more than 3 orders of pancakes, you’re starting to wonder if he just likes your baking.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means hanging out after school. nagi trains a lot. he has to, apparently, in order to become the best striker in the world. but, it doesn’t mean he likes it. if he had it his way, he’d walk to the mall with you and share a cup noodle everyday after school. he’d love to just sit around the convenience store with you for forever— or at least until he wanted to go home. but unfortunately, that time is only limited to an hour before club training starts.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means telling him about all the people you don’t like. nagi’s a pacifist. he likes to think that he’s a very peaceful and chill guy. there isn’t many people he actually hates. but apparently, you do. you tell him almost every week about at least one person who did you wrong, or a guy who keeps harassing you— it almost makes nagi think, ‘is it actually possible for one person to get harassed this much?’. nonetheless, he still listens and internally rolls his eyes when he sees one of the people you’ve mentioned.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means him ditching his hang out to go with you. blue lock just won against the japan U20 team. no one thought they could make it. and as a reward, anri decided that they deserve some free time to themselves in the outside world. isagi had invited nagi, chigiri, bachira, and some others to hang out with him. but because he overslept, he just decided not to go… instead he went to your house. “hey, let’s go to an arcade today?” he asked. the two of you headed into your favorite arcade somewhere in shibuya and since he was so near the café he was gonna originally meet isagi at, he did intend to say hi… but that plan sort of went out the window.

“nagi… let me win for once, would ya?” you grumbled. “but, i’ve already got 15 wins, i don’t wanna lose…” he hums in return. and when he finally K.O.’s your character, you hear a loud gruff voice.

“hey, you pain-in-the-ass gamer prince!” it calls out. and by the disgruntled look on his face, it seems nagi already knows who it is. “yer gonna lose yer friends, ya jerk!” the voice suddenly runs in behind nagi and grabs him by the neck. you recognize that face, it was the #6 of last night’s game! “caught him red-handed!” reo laughs.

you’re suddenly a bit shy surrounded by all these new people, not to mention the fact that they’re basically mini-celebrities. “oh? who’s this one you’re hanging out with?” the boy in the beanie asks, walking up to you. you’re suddenly intimidated by the aura that surrounds him. “…wanna see some ninja arts?” he asks.

you’re tempted to say yes, you’ve never seen a ninja before. the choice is taken though when that aforementioned #6 and a boy with pink hair in an updo bun (he looks like a girl, but you’re sure he’s a guy since he was in last night’s game…) yell at him. “don’t go doin’ yer stupid seducing tricks, moron!”

ignoring all of that, nagi finally answered, “…this is s/o, my friend.” isagi nods, and reo almost looks like he wants to scoff at the title, ‘friend’. “so you ditched isagi to hang out with s/o? way to choose your priorities, nagi..!” reo laughs. “well, i haven’t seen s/o in weeks… and i’ve been seeing all of you too much…” he mumbles.

most of them look rightfully offended, most especially isagi, the boy with pink hair, and another boy with a brown and yellow bob cut. the three of them drag nagi over to the dart board as the boy with the bob hums, “let’s party! nya haaa! ♪”

reo grins and encourages you to follow the group, “c’mon, let’s hang! i know nagi especially will be really glad to have you along!” nagi would be glad? …pushing those thoughts aside, you agree to join them. “yeah… sure, i’ll join.”

[smileposting]

what are your feelings on inspekta being both a sympathetic character and a (now former) fascist?

WELL. first of all, i think it's Probably worth noting that even while GGG's representation of the conditions that can give rise to fascism are Uncannily accurate at times (as outlined in this very excellent post by elkian) it is Also a story in which the central message is "maybe talk to your friends instead of conspiracy-posting when you start to feel bad about yourself, dipshit," and therefore its representation of fascism/fascist thought As A Whole is very... how do i say this without sounding disparaging. "saturday morning cartoon"-esque. i think this is pretty apparent in how the worst that the bizzyboys' reign of terror ever gets is banning The Concept Of Art and not, like. genocide. the only Actual fatal threat (the rift) is saved for the very end, and inspekta/hector is talked down before it can actually cause any fatalities -- otherwise, inspekta and the bizzyboys would be very different antagonists that would require the narrative to treat them much more harshly, and this would result in a very different game overall (although not one i would be opposed to playing.)

second of all, i wanna talk more about the idea of GGG being less of a game about taking down a single power-hungry fascist and more an examination of the conditions that can eventually lead to fascism if left unchecked. for just one example, we can see that even before inspekta came into power (or at least, before he started his corruption arc) and even in a world where every god is genuinely kind and just and deserving of their position, it was generally The Norm to not really call them out To Their Face - any displeasure a character voices with a god's (apparent) decision is directed to each other and the godpoke, not to the god themselves, even when that god is perfectly open to visitors and/or feedback. and this is bad because despite the gods no longer being Physically human, they are still just as fallible - they have a tendency to jump to conclusions, they let their devotion to their interests or one another cloud their judgement, they struggle with showing vulnerability (which, ironically, makes them more vulnerable than they would be otherwise.) not only does the grove benefit from regular contact with the gods to make sure that their needs are being met -- it benefits the gods, too, by way of keeping them from getting lost in their own heads and losing touch with their own humanity.

i think it's also worth noting that the bizzyboys are not the only characters we see buying into fascist rhetoric, or at least stuff that benefits fascism in the long run. you could argue that anyone who bought into inspekta's framing of king in the first place also counts, given that to do so would probably Also require one to believe that the gods are infallible. it's also worth noting that a Lot of the more notable supporting characters who fall into this are also doing so out of a profound sense of alienation; saul can't remember the last time he talked to any of his friends and he thinks nobody takes him seriously, pollina's students don't sound like they're being taught much of anything about milldread's history and therefore they have very little to actually connect them to milldread, nobody likes rick brick and he has no interiority to speak of By Design, etc etc. all of these characters, however, are also treated with a fair amount of empathy - ol' bloom turns out to be Correct in believing that saul doesn't have what it takes to kill him and once the issue of the harvest is solved, he's welcomed back with open arms, pollina's students are like 8, and even rick brick's story ends with him beginning to realize that maybe it's okay if a story only appeals to its author and nobody else.

tl;dr: if ggg was even Slightly less cartoony than it actually is, this aspect of inspekta would come across as pretty jarring, but given the aspects of fascism that GGG chooses to focus on and how it treats smaller antagonists, i can't really imagine inspekta's story ending any other way. if i Did have any actual concerns, i'd say maybe it's that the bizzyboys being from the drain + the drain having such a negative connotation can get kinda dicey? something about the idea of fascism being an Evil Foreign Entity and not something that can just as easily start at home doesn’t sit quite right with me. but ofc a lot of emphasis is placed on the bizzyboys' humanity and potential to do good if not for inspekta's own Complexes getting the better of him (and even inspekta's own genuine capacity for leadership before that happened) so that's probably more of a potential bone to pick with fanwork, given how little exploration drain actually Gets in canon.

also i hope this doesn't Need to be said but just to be clear: i'm not trying to like, call out limbolane or Inspekta Himself, just examining what this aspect of his character was trying to Accomplish + how it relates to the game's themes and such. with that said i am very much still a novice when it comes to political analysis of media so if anybody more well-read than me wants to chime in, Please feel free to do so lol.

[arvandus]

Ok more thoughts on Dabi’s ending…

Like I’m not even mad about him dying, honestly. I get that his story has always been one riddled in tragedy. I love tragic characters so tragic endings sorta come with the package (still crying over the ending for Loki season 2).

I appreciate, from a literary standpoint, the impact of dying by one’s own rage. Of letting that hurt and anger literally consume you until there’s practically nothing left of you. I see that that is what they were going for with him, and that part is FINE. Sad as fuck, but not shocking, not surprising.

The issue I have with it is the context and overall messaging. The fact that Dabi dies but Endeavor doesn’t; I’m not even saying that Enji needed to die, and he does get permanently injured and has to give up hero work. BUT the fact that Enji, the abuser and the source of so many people’s pain, not only lives but gets to still have the support of at least some of his family (Natsuo, I love you baby!) leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I think it’s because I’ve never found Enji’s redemption very convincing. I’m not saying this in a “he’s evil and has no soul” sort of way, but it’s more in the fact that his actions have always been rooted in cowardice and ego. The fact that Enji gives up being a hero because he got injured in battle rather than giving up being a hero willingly because it was the very thing that made him so toxic and awful to begin with… meh. Not to mention he still had his son face off with his other son instead of confronting him directly. He still dilly dallied and never went searching for Touya after their initial conflict and reveal even though Shouto wanted to. That’s what I mean when I say Enji’s redemption was half-assed. He was too much of a coward and too focused on being a hero to the masses instead of being a father to his children and that never changed for him. So did he realize what he did in the past was wrong? Yes. Did he feel bad about it? Sure. Did he take the appropriate steps to right past wrongs? No. No he fucking didn’t. Too little, too late.

But it’s not just about Enji. It’s also the hopelessness that’s communicated by Shouto failing to save his brother and never have soba with him in the end. And it’s a message of hopelessness that’s communicated with Toga and Shigaraki’s deaths as well. I don’t know if they we’re going for a “loss of innocence/you can’t save everyone” sort of vibe as a part of the student characters growing up into adults, but it still just made it all feel sort of… pointless in the end. And that pointlessness was emphasized even more by how unmoved they all seemed to be in the aftermath/ending of the story. Not really much mourning, not really much regret. Add to that that the overall status quo seems to be maintained, and really it feels as if nothing has changed; nothing has gotten better (even though supposedly it has??).

I dunno. Take what I say with a grain of salt cuz I haven’t read the ending and I’ve gotten the info from tumblr screenshots. But I’m tired and don’t have it in me to pick it back up again. If the characters are going to die, that’s fine, but make it meaningful, make it worth it, make it cataclysmic in the ushering in of a better world. Give me systems of support within the society to help people in need, people with dangerous quirks. Give me a dismantling of the popularity aspect of heroism, because a system built on the monetization and entertainment cannot also be a moral system. Show me how you’re addressing the toxicity of hero worship, how you’re dismantling the pedestals so that quirkless children aren’t bullied and heroes aren’t driven to madness in the fight to the top.

If you can’t give me those things, then what’s the point. It’s just more of the same. Your story gave us nothing.

[a-wolfs-bad-moon-rising]

Are you there L.T.?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Student!Reader

(Finals are coming up and I think nothing more than fluffy Ghost would help more than anything.)

(Fluffy fluff from the big man himself)

My eyes crack open and I stare up at my ceiling. Daylight floods in through my windows illuminating the room. I hear the soft hum of my heater trying to keep my apartment warm in contrast to the cold wind bustling outside.

I sit up on my elbows and blink bleary-eyed, scanning the room. It feels like I hadn't slept at all. I just wanted to take a nap. I haven't been sleeping well at night because it's exam week and I'm beyond stressed. I nibble my nail as the anxiety sits in and I reach for my phone. I pray that more time as past since I laid down for a nap.

The cushions under my legs sink in as I lean forward. I pick up my phone and tap the screen. I blink a few times before registering that I had only been asleep 10 minutes.

With a groan I toss my phone to the side and put my face in my hands. I squeeze my scalp, my fingers closing around strands of my hair and I breathe shakily.

I can't believe how much the stress is getting me. I will myself not to cry and an idea pops into my head. Maybe there's someone who could provide moral support. I look at my phone a moment before picking it up. I tap on a familiar app and scroll through. He may not even be on leave. He may be deployed somewhere. He almost might not care to talk his old teammate off the edge during something as trivial as exams.

But he was always a good guy. Someone I looked up too who provided comfort when I needed it. Worth a shot. Who is it? My old Lieutenant. Simon "Ghost" Riley.

I tap on his contact and send a message.

LT?

I wait a few moments aching for a reply before I realize it probably won't come. I get up and with a pop of my joints I head to my shower.

Behind the bathroom door, I open a closet and pull out a fluffy towel. I set it on the counter before picking through my closet for a change of clothes. I turn the knobs in my shower. A few squeaks and the water flows through the shower head. The water was cold at first, the temperature picking up a few minutes later. I watch the steam rise and I undress getting under the spray.

I spend a good amount of time decompressing and allowing the water to soothe my body. I had just lathered myself up with soap when I hear a ping from my phone. Almost breaking my neck jumping out of the shower, I haphazardly dry my hands off before picking up my phone and tapping the screen.

I smile seeing the ghost icon. Suds slide their way down my body but I pay no mind as I open the text

(Y/N).

Always a man of a few words.

Long time no see. Are you in the area by chance?

I am for now. What's on your mind?

I'm struggling with finals and the stress is getting to me. Can't sleep, any ideas?

You've been on countless missions with 141 and finals got your nerves going?

I freeze and sheepishly reply.

Yeah.....

I had left the military after my contract ended. I kept close contact with the other members. I'm particularly close with Soap. Price was always fatherly and Ghost, I leaned on him a lot inside and outside the military.

Want me to come by?

I smile and type out my response before I finish my shower.

I'd like that it'd be nice to catch up!

Once I finish cleaning, I towel off and get dressed. It'll take Ghost about half an hour to get to my apartment so I settle on making a snack as I wait for him.

A knock at my door has me rushing to open it. Standing there is Ghost. I'll be honest it took me a bit to get used to his face without the mask.

"LT!" I exclaim a little to enthusiastic.

He nods at me with a ghost (see what I did there?) of a smile.

"(Y/N)"

I smile and open my arms. He awkwardly does the same and I'm just happy he's indulging me. I lay against his chest and give him a squeeze. His smile subconsciously gets bigger and he holds me back.

I let him into my apartment and he looks around.

"So finals gettin ya frazzled?"

"Yeah.....I thought after the military nothing would stress me out but this....civilian life is worse."

"Ain't that the fuckin truth."

"I just can't wrap my head around this." I gesture to my textbook. "How the hell am I supposed to know the answer to....this?"

I show him a question in my book. His eyes barely scan it before he gives me an answer. I deadpan before looking it up.

"You did not fucking know that." He chuckles and leans towards me.

"Give me another." He says with a cocky grind. We go back and forth and he irritatingly gets ALL OF THEM. He even caught on when I was bullshitting and flicked me in the forehead.

"Ow!" I yelp

"Don't act like a brat jus because yer strugglin." He says simply. I grumble and rub my head as he laughs.

"Alright I'll help ya siddown." He says.

"No LT I can't take another second if studying."

"I said sit." I blush and comply sitting next to him as he picks up my book. I groan and he shoots me a look.

He goes back and forth with me explaining problems and helping me figure them out. Towards the end I finally start to get the hang of it. I answer the last question, the one that gave me the most trouble.

"Are you sure?" His unreadable eyes pierce me and I stress. I squeeze my hands and look at him.

"I'm sure." He looks at me blankly and I start to sweat.

"That's right." He says. I breathe a sigh of relief and fall against my cushions.

"Thank GOD!" Ghost chuckles at my enthusiasm.

"Atta girl I knew ya could do it." He says and I flush.

"Thanks LT you always did make things easier on me."

"Ah that was all you love. Jus needed a little help is all." He says and I blush.

He stands up, his massive frame towering over me and stretches.

"Well let me take ya out and we can get some dinner."

"Really?"

"Sure let's go. Don't tell Johnny, damn bastard always tryin to get a free meal out o me."

I giggle at the mention of Soap and I grab my jacket and gloves go layer up. I pull my boots on and brave the cold. I look at him and in confirmation. He opens my door and let's me out shutting it behind us. I lock my door and we start walking down the street.

We banter for a few minutes catching up on what the rest of the crew is doing. A snowflake melts on my neck and I shiver. Without a word Ghost takes off his scarf and wraps it around my neck. His hands brushing my hair and shoulders. Thank God the cold made my cheeks rosy already. We get to a bar and he opens the door for me. I stamp my feet out and we sit at the bar.

"What'll ya have?" He asks me. I give him my drink order and he orders for me. I sit next to him happily.

"When's your exam?" He asks me. I sigh.

"Tomorrow." I say. He nods.

"You'll be jus fine love." He gives me one of his rare Ghost smiles. We order food and keep talking about the good old days and how things are now. I realize how homesick I've been for the 141. I'm stuffing a French fry in my mouth when I hear a loud voice.

"Blood 'ell." Ghost sighs and I smile knowing what's got his nerves. I swivel in my chair and look at beautiful blue eyes. The Scotsman smiles at me.

"Soap!" I exclaim and hop off my chair. I jump up and hug him and he holds me back.

"Hey there lass. How ya been?" He asks me and I nuzzle his chest.

"Good Soap! I missed you!" He smiles and picks me up, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest.

"I missed ya too lass. What're you and the missus doin ere?"

I giggle

"He was helping me study for my exam tomorrow." Soap feigns hurt and looks at me.

"Oi why didn ya ask me fer help?. Instead ya ask our tightass oer there?" He says. I laugh and Ghost pipes up.

"Johnny you're a bloody sod." He says. Soap smiles at him and sits down.

"I am not go on quiz me. I'll be I get more right then you."

After a humbling experience, Soap settles to joking around with us and sharing my food. We watch the rugby game on the television and go back and forth talking. I sit happily between the two men and feel content being around two familiar people.

"Thank you guys. This has really helped."

"Always lassie."

"Anything for ya love."

Later on that night they walk me home. I walk in between them and the follow me all the way to my door. I undo the scarf Ghost gave me and hand it to him. Soap snatches it and wraps it stupidly around his head. Ghost shoots him a death glare but doesn't bother taking it back. Soap smiles cheerily at him.

He opens his arms to me and I hug the Scotsman tightly.

"Goodnight Soap. Thanks for being here."

"Always lass, treasure seein ya." He kisses my hand and I blush. I turn to Ghost. He carefully gives me a hug and Soap smirks at him.

"G'night love. Good luck on your exam t'morrow. You'll be jus fine."

I smile and let him go.

"Thanks LT."

They let me go inside and I crawl under my warm covers. I lay sleepily against my pillows and relax. I feel more content than I had in a while and I gently sleep.

The next morning I stand in front of my classroom. I grip the straps to my backpack tightly and shift from foot to foot. I try and calm my nerves. I was never the best test taker. I go to take a step when my phone goes off a bunch of times. Vibrations felt through my pocket as I get bombarded with messages. Wondering what the hell is up I open my screen and my heart melts. It's a group chat from the 141.

(Soap): Oi. Everyone wish (Y/N) good luck on her exam today. Not that the lass has to worry her pretty little head

(Price): Good luck love. You were an amazing soldier, you got this.

(Price): Get back to work Soap.

(Gaz): Ayeooo (Y/N) has finals? Knock em dead sweetheart!!! 🫶

(Konig): Gut luck Liebling

(Keegan): Showtime (Y/N) we got your back

(Roach): Good luck!

(Ghost): Good luck soldier.

I read the messages happily soon the chat turning on Soap and instead berating him. I giggle.

(Y/N): Thank you guys! I'll do you proud.

(Keegan): We know you will sweetheart. Soap was that you I saw walk by in that stupid scarf?

(Soap): Why yes it was

(Ghost): it's not stupid

(Price): I didn't know we were all jerkin off today. Let the girl take her test and get the fuck back to work.

(Soap): Aye sir

(Ghost): Roger

(Keegan): On it Capn

(Konig): I will get back to it

(Roach): I wasn't a part of this.

I laugh at the messages as they cease. My phone vibrates one more time and it's a separate message from Ghost.

(Ghost): Stop stressing. You've always been a bad test taker but you're more than capable. Kick ass today.

(Ghost): I'm proud of you

My heart melts at his words and I beam. He was always a man of few words but this meant the world. I take a breath and head into my class to take the final. My mood and confidence boosted knowing I have a whole army behind me.

~~~~~

(Soap): Wow I like it a lot!

(Wolf): Thanks me too!

(Soap): I like how you shamlessly added me in there.

(Wolf): *blushing* Soap you're basically my husband at this point of course I'm going to.

(Soap): *Rolls eyes* Shameless

(Ghost): You procrastinated studying to WRITE about studying?

(Wolf): Hell yeah I did. And it worked.

(Ghost): That makes no sense.

(Wolf): Yes it does shush.

(Soap): Lass no it doesn't.

(Wolf): *pouting*

(Ghost): Get the 'ell over ere and study!

(Wolf): B-but!

(Ghost): NOW!

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by ...

- alwaysxlarrie -

[1]

Sparks of euphoria shot through his veins, which made it very hard for him to refrain from making loud noises, such as shouting victoriously; he didn’t want to reagitate Harry’s migraine. He resigned to just give Harry a wide smile, poked his dimple, and told him he was happy to help, instead. It was a far cry from how he actually wanted to react, but. Such was life. 

As he peeked over at the dry erase board, he made a vow to, as long as he was able to, always have a sweet message written on it for Harry.

“you’ve got a smile that shines as bright as a full moon on a dark night. i hope you never run out of reasons to smile.”

[2]

When Harry goes back to the library a few hours later to see if he’d left his headphones on the table, he doesn’t end up finding them. Instead, he finds something much, much better. He finds a note from Louis and one of Louis’ hoodies. The note says ‘don’t worry, curly, i have your headphones! they’re safe and sound with me :) i’ll bring them to the next meeting, no worries. I got you xo’

So, no, Harry won’t be able to use his headphones for the next week. And yes, it will suck major ass. 

But. 

He’ll have Louis’ hoodie that’s absolutely magnificently coated in his delicious scent, a handwritten note from Louis, and him telling Harry that he’s got him. 

Harry knows that it can’t be love; it’s too early and too fast for it to be love, but. 

It’s definitely something.

[3]

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he scratches the tip of his nose as he offers, “um, yes. That’s me. I’m sorry, have we met?”

The man bites his bottom lip as he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m Louis, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, as well.” Harry reaches a hand out, figuring that even if he doesn’t know who this beautiful man is, it would be a felony to not offer his hand. In marriage. Or a formal handshake. Either or, really.

When their hands touch, a spark shoots up Harry’s hand straight to his spine, making him shiver. Louis seems to notice the effect their handshake has on Harry when he raises his eyebrow. After he squeezes his hand one last time, Louis releases it and puts his hands in his pockets.

[4]

“Do you have any fruits you want in it specifically, or are you okay with all of them going in?” Harry asked. His eyes were on Louis, and his fingers were already moving to open the tupperware with excited impatience.

“Honestly I’m sure whatever you decide to give me will be perfect, bub.” Louis assured him before winking and darting off, yelling to Niall that he wanted to get a few more minutes of practice in before they sat down for a proper snack. 

Harry’s fingers were trembling from the rush of adrenaline, scrambling to find the perfect pieces from each baggie to add to Louis’ little fruit salad; there couldn’t be any black seeds in the watermelon pieces, no brown on the apple slices, no wrinkly grapes, and none of the honeydew melon could be too hard. To Harry, the salad would be Louis’ introduction of how good of a friend and provider Harry could be, and therefore, it had to be perfect.

Answers below...

[1] i swear i could give you everything

Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 each morning. But he did have to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though. Talk about self sabotage.

[2] you give me feelings that i adore

Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

[3] you are my destiny (you are the reason that i still believe)

Being a new employee at a company means that you have to learn to brush off the shitty bosses, shitty coworkers, and not getting the credit you actually deserve for things. At least, that's been Harry Styles' experience. Coworkers who steal his ideas in pursuit of getting praise and a raise, and a boss who's indifferent at best and condescending at worst. Harry has learned to expect this reality for the foreseeable future. He's accepted it.

What he hadn't expected was for Louis Tomlinson to waltz into their company, and his life, and change around everything he thought he knew about fate. -- A Cinderella AU.

[4] wanna wake up with you and say baby let's do it all over again

“Alright, I did some Googling and I think I’ve figured out what your thing is.” Niall announced as he walked into their kitchen.

“My thing?”

“Sorry, is that an offensive way to refer to it?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I’d probably be able to give you a better answer if I knew what you were talking about, though.”

“Harry, it’s okay. This is a safe space.”

“No, it’s not. You throw cheese puffs at me any time I walk around naked.”

“Okay.” Niall tilted his head in acknowledgement, then corrected himself. “It’s a safe space for things I deem acceptable.”

“Of course.” Harry rolled his eyes. “So, what’s the thing?”

“Your service,” Niall flailed his hands in the air for a few seconds, “thing.”

“My service,” Harry paused to mimic Niall’s hand movements, “thing?”

“Yes.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Three (more) things for Jack Dayton:

Perfume, a candle, and an overnight bag

Tagging: @kmc1989 @redpool @cosmic-psychickitty @consisedictionaryofmistakes

Companion piece to:

My Love, My Light, My Life - You dedicate your book to Jack.

Jack’s Ring

The Call - Jack receives a terrifying call whilst abroad.

Jack misses you. He misses the way your perfume clings to his skin after the two of you have made love, the scent of that candle you light the hour before bed because it helps you relax. There’s a hundred thousand other things he misses too but his head is too much of a jumble to remember them all as he shoves his passport, wallet, keys and phone into his pocket.

He doesn’t bother with his luggage or overnight bag, his private jet is already fuelled up on the tarmac and there’s a car waiting for him downstairs. He’s already half way through the door when he remembers the ring, he shoots back into the room to grab it, tucking it safely into his pocket.

That flight back home, it’s the longest ten hours of Jack’s life. He’s too wired to sleep so he spends that time trying to find out more information about the events that led to your accident.

He discovers that you were on your way to the engagement party with your friend Celeste when your car was ploughed into at an intersection. Your side of the vehicle had taken the impact of the crash, Celeste had walked away with barely more than a broken wrist and marks from the glass. They’d still been cutting you out of the car when they’d taken her to the hospital.

You’d been in surgery when Dean had called him. There had been internal damage and Crockett had been working to get you stabilised because you’d been bleeding into your chest cavity. There hasn’t been any news since and Jack finds himself praying that you make it through, that he gets to see you again because truly his life without you, it’s not worth living.

He’s barely stepped off the plane when his phone chimes with a message from Dean Archer.

Amelie’s out of surgery and in recovery. Crockett says outlook positive.

It’s bare bones and to the point and appreciated more than he can say because he knows what it costs Dean Archer to interact with him again, especially after everything that went down with Isobel.

Thank you, he texts back as he steps into his town car. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[theodoesitagain]

Hello to like the three people that follow me on here. I have been writing a fanfic since 2018 that is very near and dear to my heart and even though I don't think many people will see this, I wanted to post about it.

The Marauders and the first Order of the Phoenix occupy a lot of my headspace and I started daydreaming about them a lot, which is how the first installment of this story was conceived. I wanted a plausible prequel to the events of the HP series following the first wizarding war. (My ships, maybe not so much but 🤷‍♀️)

I'm currently in the midst of the sequel, which is retelling of the Harry Potter series from the perspective of (mostly) Remus Lupin. I try to post a new chapter every week.

Anyway, if anybody was interested, here's a snippet from the WIP:

Before he even opened his eyes, the smell that hit him as he stepped out of the green flames was enough to make his insides flutter. That musky, saccharine, and at times, sort of sweaty smell was not only instantly recognizable; it flooded him with nostalgia to the point of giddiness. Dumbledore had very kindly requested that he Floo to this fireplace, as opposed to the one in the Defense Professor’s office on the second floor. When he thought about it, it would’ve made more sense to meet there - but Remus suspected Dumbledore was granting him a bit of time to relive the good old days first. 

So he capitalized on it, and arrived a few minutes early to do just that. As soon as the crimson carpets and furnishings came into view, Remus felt an overwhelming sense of calm; he couldn’t describe what it was. Helping himself to a seat in a cushy armchair across from the hearth, he ran his hands down the upholstery and let out a chuckle. 

There were few places that held fonder memories than the Gryffindor common room. And if Remus concentrated very intently…

Merlin, I can still hear them.

“Saint Moony!”

“What’ve I missed?”

“Wormtail’s making grand plans to ask out Mary.”

“Godric- Prongs- Could you keep your voice down? I am not!”

“Well, you ought to be.”

“And are you offering your expertise?”

“What expertise? Evans must’ve turned him down a hundred times!”

“She’ll come ‘round one of these days, you’ll see. Now that this is all of us, we need to discuss the aging potion prank. As much as I’d love to target Snivellus, I think he might be too obvious. Thoughts, Padfoot?”

“Who cares if it’s obvious? It’ll be well worth it to see how huge his proboscis gets when he’s a geezer!” 

At the sound of the last voice, Remus shoved the memory back down to its depths. 

He stood and strolled by the empty notice board, brushing his fingertips against the cork and remembering positively nefarious messages they used to leave for him to remove as part of his prefect duties:

Dear Remus, 

I cannot deny my feelings for you any longer. I need you like a flower needs a bumblebee. Meet me at the Three Broomsticks this weekend so we can finally run away together. 

Sincerely, 

Madam Rosmerta 

To the particularly flatulent resident of the boys dormitory,

Please, for the love of Merlin, stop by the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey test you for a food allergy. You’re disturbing the peace.

Sincerely,  

We can smell you from the top floor

Ladies and Gentlemen of Gryffindor House,

We are pleased to inform you that Mr. Peter Pettigrew is single and accepting applications. Bribes welcome and encouraged, particularly if they are paid in homage to his roommates. Must be sixteen or older to apply. 

He couldn't help but laugh again. Gits. Only when James became head boy had they let up a little - and only a little. 

Passing the staircase, he had half a mind to go take a peek at the dormitories, but even with them empty, it felt improper. Instead, his path took him all the way up to the large window facing east. It was a lovely, sunny afternoon in the highlands, and the visible stretch of the lake sparkled. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. 

Recollections seemed to hang in the air like that sweaty smell: Post-quidditch celebrations; Gobstones; card games; the collective huddle around the fire after a wintery weekend trip to Hogsmeade; Remus could’ve plucked them out of the air like lacewing flies and kept them in a jar. Even with the headlines circling about civil unrest and talks of war back in those days, it seemed things like that could never touch them in here. Not in the common room. This was their sanctuary. 

Hearing the portrait hole open, Remus turned. He expected Dumbledore, but was thrilled to see the conical black hat instead. 

“Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall,” he called out with a wide grin, suppressing the great urge to embrace her. 

McGonagall inspected him over her square glasses. “Back to cause more trouble, Mr. Lupin? Or should I be calling you Professor?”

He came away from the window. “Let’s not jump to conclusions until I’ve spoken with the Headmaster.” 

When he reached her, she surprised him with an uncharacteristic squeeze on the arm. “Welcome home.”

Ah. That’s what the feeling was. 

...

In no time at all, they rounded the corner and saw the gargoyle. Remus could recall, on several occasions, passing this corridor with his friends and blurting out guesses as to what the password was; none of which ever ended up being correct.

“Cauldron Cakes,” Dumbledore stated loud and clear.

The gargoyle stepped aside, allowing them to ascend the spiral staircase. Remus was fairly certain James had thrown that one out once or twice. God, if James could see him now. Professor Moony.

“And now for a nice celebratory tea, as promised,” Dumbledore fizzed, starting up the stairs.

Remus stared begrudgingly at the steps, but followed nonetheless. “I meant to bring some biscuits, but the ones I had were stale.”

“That’s alright. I keep some in my desk for emergencies.”

Remus had just made it up the spiral staircase when he saw that there were four or five people already in Dumbledore’s office, one of them being Cornelius Fudge. He also recognized Amelia Bones - the late Edgar’s sister - now the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Remus tensed up a bit, as he always had around personnel from the Ministry. 

“I thought we agreed on two thirty, Dumbledore,” Fudge quibbled disapprovingly. “I hope you won’t mind, we’ve helped ourselves to the tea that was set out.”

“My sincerest apologies Minister, I must have lost track of time. I was orienting our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Albus stepped aside so that the wizards and witches present had a clear view of Remus. 

Across the office, a teacup shattered on the floor.

[itwillalwaysbeyes]

Ohmygosh I am speechless. And yet so full of words, that they’re all knocking around on each other in my head and i can’t get them to calm down enough for me to make something coherent.

I feel the same. I smile to myself all day, thinking of you, getting your messages… i’ve never laughed so much just on a daily basis. It’s to the point where family is asking me now all the time, what’s funny?

I couldn’t grasp the lyrics to mirrors, because i had never met anyone even halfway like me. The song genuinely felt like a gimmick and not genuine in my mind, because I couldn’t imagine being that close and that similar to someone, that it’s like looking in a mirror.

And then i randomly thought of that song a few days ago, and listened, and it made me tear up because i finally understood the honesty in the lyrics that I couldn’t see before.

I hear so much of my younger self in you. With insecurity, and saying i don’t have to do things for you. And it makes me jump right in to reassure you that you are worth everything and more, because i know how those feelings feel. And the right person will want to do things for you not because they have to, but the love in them compels them to serve you. To love you that extra mile. So i tell you i want to so you can hear it over and over, that i want this. I want you. I choose to love you more than the bare minimum. Much more.

It warms my entire heart and soul, when you tell me how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. I’ll never tire of hearing that you’re excited, because i’m over the moon, too. Knowing you feel the same about me as I do you, is indescribable.

I’m very much looking forward to the beautiful parts of daily life we’ll get to do together. The little things, that are so big.

Ohmygod buying a house together is the most beautiful thought. Our own place. 🥹

“My endgame” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💕💋💗

The urge to be domestic and pick flowers from a garden, and make her a matching bouquet and flower crown and then bake her some bread from scratch.

[chahnniesroom]

HELLO AUTHOR NIM I absolutely love all of your works and I live for all of them <33

THE ANGST IN TENDERNESS MADE ME SCREAM AAAAAA my friends can testify how much I kept on ranting about it especially when chan was being an asshole that one chap >:( and of course the moments of fluff in between made me weak in the knees 😭

AND TILL DEATH DO US APART IS 💓💞💕💖♥️♥️💗 SO FLUFFY (except minho's fic) I LOVE READING THEM ALL hyunjin painting her a painting of their flowers even though he's busy AND THE "it's us" WBSOWNXOASON SO CUTE 😭😭 and seungmin picking her up and taking care of her 😭 sobbinh and there is the angst of the minho fic :( I loved it

I love how you write each fic and I'm so excited to read your next one, of course you can take your time writing each fic we'll all be waiting <33

anon-nim..... this is one of the nicest messages i have ever read,,,, i would do anything for you 🥹🥹

it's soo cute to hear that you talked to your friends about tenderness and i'm so glad you liked it and the rest of my fics!! it has been fun to try out different genres through the tddup collection and even more rewarding when i get such positive feedback. i really appeciate your detailed comment, no words can explain how nice it feels to receive such a heartfelt message 🥰🥰🥰

i have a lot of fics planned (like 5+ rn) but they will take time, thank you in advance for your patience!! for me, writing is a long process and my progress is often slow. taking so long to write can be discouraging, especially when i compare myself to other authors, but messages like yours really really motivate me and i am really grateful to have readers that enjoy what i create.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Valentine's Day! (and this blog's first post anniversary!)

[canisalbus]

I'm sure you get loads of these but heck I said I'd give it a shot anyway!

Your artwork is so inspiring and beautiful. I recently graduated from art school with a degree in Animation Production but I've decided I'd love to be an illustrator some day. Your work really motivates me and gets my brain juice buzzin. Keep it up!!!

.