#but there are a couple things to note here

[b1asho]

While it's on the mind, here's my wings of fire designs too. Not as much of a brainrot but still fun. Bad take or am I cooking with some of them? Let me know in the comments. Here's some (too many) notes:

I really liked the original designs when I first read these books, but I wanted to try my hand at uhh changing them a little. Mainly making them more distinct from each other (even if this irreversibly breaks canon XD)

-Sandwings live in a mixed savannah and desert habitat and have bodies adapted for resource scarcity, effective hunting, and heat dispersion. They have large ears to help cool off and listen for stuff. They can fly, but pretty weakly in comparison to some others, mainly using flight to navigate their large territories , get onto cliffs, and scan for prey. They typically climb up somewhere and then jump off. They are built like felines, and use a solo stalk and rushdown hunting approach coupled with a sting instakill. They live in family groups, with a ‘queen’ title going to the alpha female 💪 and everyone else hunting and living together. They are immune to their own venom, which acts very similarly to a scorpion’s but in a massive dose, causing numbness, breathing difficulties seizures, and eventually death. It takes time for them to make more once they’ve expended the dose, so they rarely use it outside of hunting or life/death situations (though the prospect of being stung is very scary to everyone else, and they will instinctively raise their tail when startled or threatened)

-Skywings live in high mountainous and forested areas, with some living in the lowlands. They are powerful flyers and very acrobatic due to their tail, though this comes at the expense of their agility on land and the strength of their non wing arms. They have long legs with powerful talons for grasping prey midair or snatching them from off the ground. They hunt and live alone unless they have a partner. Communities are made up of a loose group of related individuals who rarely collect in one place at once(queendom structure are a more recent and ‘unnatural’ thing for them, but very useful for organizing military efforts and empire building). They stay aloft for long periods of time and usually only land on their cliff homes. They need a sprint or a takeoff point to get flying, though. Unlike every other tribe, they have a noticeable difference between male and female (being a nose horn and red face for males.) males are prized for these features, and having a pretty husband is seen as an attractive trait for a queen.

-Seawings live along the coast. They normally only venture out of the water for trade and other resources, since they can get everything else they need underwater. Their large neck houses gills protected by thick pads that will close when on land, while their lungs are in their mid chest. Primarily adapted to swimming, they have very strong tails and webbed fingers and toes. They will also use their wings to steer and paddle, as well as manipulate things their other arms can’t reach. They will hunt in packs, corralling fish and other animals into a kill zone. They are very clumsy on land and in the air with their short limbs and weak wings. Their bioluminescent spots can be flashed for communication, and compared to the other tribes they have pretty poor vocal ability (due to the gills in their neck getting in the way) and will supplement with other spot/sign signals. Every individual has unique spots, though their glowing ones come in consistent numbers, sizes, patterns, and places on their body so they can use them for common language across their group. However, Different groups from different parts of the ocean have different numbers of spots in different areas, making cross communication via only spots difficult. Their whiskers help navigate in close or dark areas, and are seen as a status symbol.

-Mudwings live in warmer areas, specifically marshes and other wetlands (though sometimes in some forested areas too). Their thick armor helps protect them from other mudwings/competition, while also acting as an insulator that allows them to easily venture a wider range than other tribes from warm climates. Physically, they are the strongest and bulkiest. They typically use the element of surprise and their overwhelming size and strength to take down large prey. However, unlike other tribes they tend to eat more plants too due to their large size (all of them are technically omnivores, but meat makes up the dominant part of their diet because of their energy needs and their ancestors). They are also the poorest flyers out of the bunch, having sacrificed that for size and strength, though they can do short bursts similar to a chicken to get to hard to reach areas or to surprise attack prey faster than them, they’re similar to hippos and are adapted to living in the water too, using powerful webbed arms to propel themselves and dig through the mud, and their large lung capacity to stay submerged and hidden for long periods. Their nostrils, ears, and eyes are located near the top of their head, which also gives more room for Tusks. They use these to root around occasionally defend themselves. Tusk maintenance and appearance is very important to them. They live in large groups of families in the same area and have more communal social standards than other tribes.

-Rainwings live in tropical areas and have a very small habitat range. This has caused them to look and act very different than most tribes, leading to poor perception of them. They use their long claws, strong grasping fingers, and prehensile tail to climb around, and are pretty much arboreal. They have wings meant for quick takeoffs and flight in dense areas, and are pretty agile and swift. They and aren’t that great at sustained flight or dealing with high altitudes and winds though . Their frill is delicate and used for emoting (probably originally for mating purposes) Their skin is packed with chromatophores that they can use to match their surroundings, and they have loose ridges in their skin that they can raise to enhance the effect. Their skin is constantly changing color due to their brain activity, though they have set patterns/colors for emotions and communication. They can also choose to focus on organizing their skin patterns to get coordinated colors and patterns, since normally it’s pretty disorganized. They eat a lot more plants due to their environment and due to social standards, but arent herbivores. They have the ability to spit acid out of hollow retractable fangs, and use precise shots of this coupled with their camouflage ability to get prey. They can also spray it at higher velocities for defense and offense, though this expends their supply much quicker. They don’t recognize a queen in their communities and are fairly disorganized into different cooperative groups.

-Nightwings are the result of a group that split off onto an island, though the volcanic activity on their original island escalated to the point where they had to emigrate. They are great fliers, using their wings and tail extensions to travel great distances to track prey and ambush from above. When on land, they aren’t particularly fast or strong, and instead are built for persistence. Their hunting tactic involves getting an initial bite onto prey, then waiting for it to succumb to infection. Their spines, horns, muscles, and talons are mainly for defending their kill from other Nightwings rather than hunting it in the first place. As a result of this competition, they aren’t naturally very social like other tribes, They are mainly nocturnal.

-Icewings live in the colder tundras and snowy forest environments. They are pack hunters, using their speed and persistence to take down prey, similar to wolves. Their long overlapping scales help them trap heat and survive in the cold, and while the guy i drew here is pretty skinny they also store fat much more readily than other tribes. Their bowed wings are mainly used to swoop in in prey, and like falcons they often take steep dives to grapple it. Their antlers only grow in at a certain time in the year, but royalty will wear embellished artificial ones in the meantime.

[natlovesls2]

Never Really Over

Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?

.ೃ࿐request: found here

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It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least. 

You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined. 

“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”

“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger. 

“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”

“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”

“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back. 

“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”

The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding. 

You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval. 

“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.” 

He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.

“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.” 

“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days. 

“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face. 

“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”

“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile. 

Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control. 

“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.” 

“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend. 

“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back. 

“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”

“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.

Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner. 

“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing. 

“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest. 

His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps. 

“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”

“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you. 

His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck. 

“And?”

“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”

You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss. 

Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in. 

The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.

“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache. 

“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes. 

You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind. 

You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you. 

“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando. 

“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando. 

“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words. 

“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face. 

“Yeah.”

“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”

“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior. 

He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. 

Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped. 

Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.

 Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face. 

Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.

“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”

“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying. 

It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one. 

“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes. 

“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge. 

He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless. 

You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”

Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“But teasing you is so fun.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk. 

“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so. 

“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky. 

“Definitely.”

“Should we go back?”

“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled. 

You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment. 

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)

[dresshistorynerd]

The Morrisian case against fast fashion

Today I discovered that H&M made a William Morris collection some years ago. The heath death of the universe can't come quickly enough. We can stop now. Satire is dead and we killed her.

It's not just the whole concept of H&M using William Morris' designs for their fast fashion which is insanity inducing, but also the critical response it garnered. Like sure, people did realize this is insane and there was a lot of think pieces about it at the time, but I read several of them and they all seem to still miss the point in spectacular way.

The basic premise of these think pieces go along the lines of: "Would William Morris spin in his grave with a speed of light because of the H&M collection of his designs? A difficult question indeed. William Morris was a complicated man. He wanted art to be affordable to everyone. Isn't H&M affordable? That kinda fits. Though probably he would have some concerns about H&M's practices."

On the surface - yes - but like in reality - fuck no. There's no nuance in this particular issue. He talked about many times what he though of the H&Ms of his time, the retailers selling poor quality industrially produced "fashionable" bullshit. We know exactly what he would have thought of H&M. Here's couple of quotes from his 1884 lecture "Art and Socialism", which makes it very clear.

"It would be an instructive day's work for any one of us who is strong enough to walk through two or three of the principal streets of London on a week-day, and take accurate note of everything in the shop windows which is embarrassing or superfluous to the daily life of a serious man. Nay, the most of these things no one, serious or unserious, wants at all; only a foolish habit makes even the lightest-minded of us suppose that he wants them, and to many people even of those who buy them they are obvious encumbrances to real work, thought and pleasure. But I beg you to think of the enormous mass of men who are occupied with this miserable trumpery, from the engineers who have had to make the machines for making them, down to the hapless clerks who sit day-long year after year in the horrible dens wherein the wholesale exchange of them is transacted, and the shopmen, who not daring to call their souls their own, retail them amidst numberless insults which they must not resent, to the idle public which doesn't want them but buys them to be bored by them and sick to death of them."

He is describing the birth of consumerism, which was taking form during his lifetime in the late Victorian Era, which fast fashion is the extreme logical conclusion of, and he fucking hated it. He specifically railed against endless consumerist products, which H&M is the perfect representation of. It was definitely not the art and beauty he believed everyone required and deserved. He makes the distinction often.

"Now if we are to have popular Art, or indeed Art of any kind, we must at once and for all be done with this luxury; it is the supplanter, the changeling of Art; so much so that by those who know of nothing better it has even been taken for Art, the divine solace of human labour, the romance of each day's hard practice of the difficult art of living."

"And here furthermore is at least a little sign whereby to distinguish between a rag of fashion and a work of Art: whereas the toys of fashion when the first gloss is worn off them do become obviously worthless even to the frivolous—a work of Art, be it ever so humble, is long lived; we never tire of it; as long as a scrap hangs together it is valuable and instructive to each new generation. All works of Art in short have the property of becoming venerable amidst decay: and reason good, for from the first there was a soul in them, the thought of man, which will be visible in them so long as the body exists in which they were implanted."

When he thought of popular Art he thought of the craftsmanship of the common people. The art people have made from useful everyday objects with skillful handicrafts. This is what he means by "divine solace of human labour". It's not reverence of Puritanical work ethic, on the contrary, it's the reverence of creation, of the earnest joy people feel when they get to express themselves through their creative pursuits. He certainly didn't believe in work for work's sake, work needed to be worthwhile and enjoyable. He summarized his own position on what labour should be thusly:

"It is right and necessary that all men should have work to do which shall be worth doing, and be of itself pleasant to do; and which should he done under such conditions as would make it neither over-wearisome nor over-anxious."

He urged his middle class audience to reject consumerism (the lecture was for a very much middle class atheist society):

"For I say again that in buying these things: 'Tis the lives of men you buy! Will you from mere folly and thoughtlessness make yourselves partakers of the guilt of those who compel their fellow men to labour uselessly?"

I think it's glaringly obvious H&M and fast fashion in general is what he would consider luxury. Rags of fashion that are just churned out and discarded without thought and produced by compelling people to labour uselessly. It's not popular art that's made by workers and craftsmen, who are able to express themselves through it. There's no agency for the abused workers in H&M's sweatshops, they are not expressing their joy of creation, they are simply labouring uselessly.

Morris didn't shame workers for buying affortable things even if they weren't Art with big A, because that's the problem he despised the whole economic system for, for taking away the popular Art from people, making it inaccessible, and selling back mass produced products with very little practical or aesthetic value. So I don't think he would have problem with people who can only afford fast fashion today. They are the victims of capitalism too, because Art has been taken away from them. But the idea that some of these think pieces had that perhaps the H&M's Morris collection can be good actually if you squint, that H&M has the capacity to bring the art and beauty Morris advocated for for the people, is level of stupidity that's hard to express in words.

Morris didn't believe anything made with exploited labour could be truly beautiful, truly art. In his 1879 lecture "The Art of the People" he put it like this:

"That thing which I understand by real art is the expression by man of his pleasure in labour."

The way I understand this, is that art is communication. Through it we communicate feelings, ideas and thoughts, that is it's purpose. So for that communication to work, for it to be imbued with message, the person making it needs to feel passion and love for it's creation. How can there be love and passion if the hands making the garment belong to a tired exploited worker who has no agency what so ever in their work and can only think about survival to the next day?

Beyond the fundamental exploitativeness of H&M and fast fashion, this collection would still get zero points on aesthetic values from Morris even with his own designs. Because the work itself was such an important part of art for Morris, good design was nothing without good craftsmanship. Good design in his mind was always relative and dependent on it's purpose.

"For everything made by man’s hands has a form, which must be either beautiful or ugly; beautiful if it is in accord with Nature, and helps her; ugly if it is discordant with Nature, and thwarts her; it cannot be indifferent." (The Lesser Arts, 1877)

Here when he says nature, he means the nature of the thing that is made - basically it's purpose and function - and the nature of the materials it's made from. Basically, the design must always be made to bring out the function of the art and the qualities of the material it's made from, not fight against them. This is because he believed handicrafts were uniquely suitable for expressing the love of creation, therefore superior labour, and to really bring out the qualities of the craftsmanship and enjoy the creative process, the design should be suitable for that craft. The other side, which was the joy of using and experiencing art, required the craft to be selected for the suitable purpose. Using poorly functioning furniture for example is not very enjoyable, nor is using clothing that's made from materials that are not suitable for the climactic conditions it's supposed to be used in.

H&M of course utterly fails in this. They use Morris' designs in fully unsuitable ways. They print patterns made for example for wall papers on poor quality fabrics with synthetics dyes they weren't made for. This line from one blog post I came across really got me: "Therefore, without cheapening the artistic value of Morris’ designs, H&M’s collection offers an unparalleled potential for accessibility to them." No. Fuck no. They do in fact cheapen Morris' designs in every single way possible. Literally this is atrocious.

Despite the popular depiction, Morris wasn't in fact against industrial machinery or industrial art even, or at least he wasn't once his views on art and politics matured. He did think technology was useful, but he thought the people should use industrial methods for the benefit of all, not be enslaved by the industrial machine.

"I have spoken of machinery being used freely for releasing people from the more mechanical and repulsive part of necessary labour; and I know that to some cultivated people, people of the artistic turn of mind, machinery is particularly distasteful, and they will be apt to say you will never get your surroundings pleasant so long as you are surrounded by machinery. I don't quite admit that; it is the allowing machines to be our masters and not our servants that so injures the beauty of life nowadays. In other words, it is the token of the terrible crime we have fallen into of using our control of the powers of Nature for the purpose of enslaving people, we care less meantime of how much happiness we rob their lives of." ("How we live and how we might live", 1887)

However, he thought that the designer should approach it the way they approached any craft, by designing for the strengths of the machine work.

"But if you have to design for machine-work, at least let your design show clearly what it is. Make it mechanical with a vengeance, at the same time as simple at possible. Don't try, for instance, to make a printed plate look like a hand-painted one: make it something which no one would try to do if he were painting by hand..." ("Art and the Beauty of the Earth", 1881)

He did use some machinery for fabric and wall paper printing, but he was very intentional about their use. Still his designs weren't made for the type of methods these modern H&M machinery uses and he did for example use natural dyes. Particularly insulting is that some of the H&M clothes are made from viscose, rayon made with viscose method. Viscose method is extremely toxic and is known to cause long term health consequences for the workers and the people in surrounding areas. This has been well proven knowledge for ages. William Morris' wall paper factory in the beginning used the typical method used at the time which involved arsenic, but once he learned this could pose risks for the workers, he changed the method. Many of the new synthetic dyes were toxic at the time, which is the major reason he so favoured natural dyes, known to not cause health issues for workers or pollute the environment.

The question many of these think pieces about the H&M Morris collection posed was, would Morris disapprove and should we care? The first part of that is very easy to answer. Yes. Of course Morris would disapprove. He is currently powering the whole of British Isles with purely the kinetic energy his grave-spinning produces. Should we care though? If you care about Morris' art, if you want to see more of that kind of art in this world, you should care. Morris' art is not about the superficial qualities. Copying his designs and aesthetics and styles, will only lead to hollow imitations, that are exactly what he described the rags of fashion to be; as the shininess of novelty wears off they will reveal themselves to be soulless, useless and utterly empty. This collection is just that. To see more of the kind of art that makes you feel like his art makes you feel, not just something that reminds you of that feeling, you should focus more on the way the art is made and less on the specific aesthetics. If his vision of labour and art was realised, all art produced of course wouldn't be loved by every person, but all of it would be loved by someone, even if that someone was just the maker. And that would be more worthwhile than every single rag of fast fashion.

I will stop William-Morris-posting now and return to my thesis.

The full texts I quoted here:

Art and Socialism The Art of the People The Lesser Arts How We Live and How We Might Live Art and the Beauty of the Earth

[marshemillow]

Actually, there are a couple words that are true here; The fact that you can't talk about phone addiction without sounding like a boomer.

Because the idea of phone addiction is inherently a boomer idea.

As I said on the screenshotted post; If someone is "addicted" to their phone, it is 99% the result of a preexisting problem like lack of regular enrichment, mental illness, untreated ADHD, etc, and removing the phone from the equation will not make the underlying issue go away.

It's also worth noting that most psychology experts agree that "phone addiction" isn't a genuine concern for most people, like how most psychology experts agree that "porn addiction" isn't real.

AND EVEN IF IT WAS A REAL ADDICTION, you think alcoholics ever recovered from their addiction by quitting cold turkey? You think the way to cure an addiction is to just take the thing away? That's the basis for the war on drugs and I hope we all know how well that goes for most people.

It's cool how this is a 60k note post when almost every word of it is untrue

[eerna]

imma be so real with you I did NOT care for all the cutesy ways they presented Vi and Cait's disbalanced social status in arc 3

[aquaticmercy]

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic. 

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely. 

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training. 

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while. 

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track. 

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life. 

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise. 

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier. 

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet. 

Today he was going to ask you out. 

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased. 

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike. 

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning. 

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. 

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned. 

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you. 

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary. 

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted. 

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head. 

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling. 

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now. 

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back. 

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first. 

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?” 

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools. 

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose. 

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work. 

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element. 

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter. 

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly. 

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together. 

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said. 

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike. 

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather. 

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier—  it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment. 

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted  as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair. 

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. 

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached. 

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved. 

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap. 

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win. 

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

[kkayyerr]

Problem.

Summary: Pogues abandoning little!reader after she did an awful mistake. Rafe is here to show her that she’s not alone.

Warnings: Age regression, angst, slight fluff in the end.

Words counter: 1,3 k

Author’s note: I used scene from the „Arcane” as the reference for this fic!!🫶🏻

Pogues had never shown their disappointment in you or even told you that they weren’t pleased with your actions. They never showed you any signs of anger, especially not when you were in the little space. No matter how bad your mistakes were, they would just try to ensure you that everything is alright. They didn’t want you to know how hard it is to clean up your mess. And you couldn’t even think of anything about them being tired of you. 

After all, every mistake can be fixed, right? 

Tonight you found out that you were actually wrong, and there are some mistakes that unfortunately can’t be fixed, not at all. 

 

„Stay here, kid.”

 

JJ said to you an hour ago, as they were getting ready to go on another fight with some people that they had introduced to you as the „bad guys." You wanted to help them, but since you were regressed, they came up with the decision that it would be better for you to just stay inside the truck while they would be dealing with all of that. You agreed, just so they wouldn’t have to worry about you while fighting, and then you watched them leave. 

 

„Good wuck…”

 

You whispered, but it seemed like nobody had heard you since they haven’t replayed, just closing the truck’s doors. Since they left, you became so much more anxious. 

What if they would get hurt? 

What if they would get killed?

What if, what if, what if...

You just couldn’t help yourself, but finding that small gun that was laying on the driver’s seat was very interesting. What if that small thing would help you get your friends out of trouble? You knew that you shouldn’t have touched the weapons, but you also knew that you wouldn’t let your friends get themselves in trouble. 

Slowly you got off the truck and immediately saw them, staying there, just a few miles away from you. And there were also those bad guys, threatening your friends. Your heart ached seeing them in fear, so you approached them and shot.

A couple of times. 

You obviously didn’t see how one of the bullets came through the JJ’s shoulder, and you also didn’t see that you almost shot Kiara right in the head. When the gun's magazine finally got empty, you opened your eyes, letting a weapon fall from your hands to the ground. Pogues were looking at you, and there was something on their faces that you had never seen before. It took a moment for you to understand that they were disappointed in you and also scared of what you just did. Everyone heads to the truck, letting JJ deal with you. They just didn’t know what to say, and they were obviously afraid of your reaction to their harsh words. 

JJ wasn’t even looking at you; he was looking through you, as if you were something that he was finally ready to leave behind. You felt how your eyes felt with tears just from the amount of guilt that you were feeling right now. You opened your mouth, but before you could start to speak, JJ just shook his head. 

 

„No. We’re done.”

 

He said, and his words made your knees weaker. He had never talked to you in such a cold manner, especially not when you were regressed. It seemed like you actually crossed the line trying to help them.

 

„They were right, you are a problem, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to deal with you anymore.”

 

His words were painful, but the sudden feeling of your knees hitting the hard ground brought even more pain, finally making you cry. Your cries were silent at first, but as soon as JJ had left your sight, silent sniffles turned into loud sobbing. 

 

„Pwease, don’t go.”

 

You hugged your bloody knees, whispering some sort of pleading out loud, even though you knew that nobody would hear you. Or at least you thought so. 

Rafe Cameron saw your small trembling figure, and he was intrigued. Something about that scene reminds him of himself when he was a child, left alone and crying for nobody to hear him. Rafe shook his head to get rid of that image. 

Why would Pogues leave someone behind? 

He almost felt bad, hearing your sobbing as he approached you. Your hair wet from the rain and your face puffy from all the tears. You probably needed someone to console you, or at least someone who would be there for you, right? And you would most probably do whatever it takes to not be abandoned again. 

 

„Why are you here alone, little one?”

 

He asked, crouching down in front of you, waiting for you to answer his question. You rubbed your eyes in a childish manner, trying to focus your gaze on the man. He wasn’t looking like he was planning to hurt you, and even if he would, it wouldn’t hurt as much as getting abandoned by a Pogues did. 

You looked at him for another second, and then you jumped on him, hugging him tightly with your little arms. Both of you were lying on the ground now, but he didn’t seem to protest. He didn’t hug you back, though, not yet. 

 

„They left me, Pogues left me.”

 

You whispered, trying not to start sobbing again. His eyes widened, as he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. How could they call themselves a family when they’re leaving their people behind? The thoughts of getting left were hurting your little heart so bad that you almost screamed but felt two strong arms picking you up from the ground just in time. You didn’t know who that man was, but the need in someone’s care right now made you desperate enough to accept his attention. You hugged his neck with your hands, hiding your face there as he was trying to calm you down. 

 

„I’m lonely”

 

Rafe chuckled at your pitiful voice, hugging you tighter. He wasn’t the big fan of hugs, but he knew that you needed that right now. He also knew that you were way too tired now to give him any information about yourself or at least explain what happened previously, but he also knew that you wouldn’t say „no” if he would offer you to go with him. 

 

„You won’t be lonely for too long, little one.”

 

His words were gentle; he didn’t want you to get scared or overwhelmed. He could tell that you were close enough to yet another tantrum just because of the stress that you had experienced from getting left alone. 

 

„I’m Rafe Cameron, can we be friends?”

 

You nodded, wanting at least someone to be around. You couldn’t stay alone, especially when you were regressed. He smirked at your response, knowing that he doesn’t want to be your friend. He wants to be your everything, and somehow you didn’t seem very against it.

 

„From that moment you will never be left alone again, baby.”

 

You looked at him with a small suspicion. It was hard for you to believe that someone might actually want to deal with you, and not leaving you behind when you would became too much. Rafe extended his pinky, his big hand approaching yours.

 

„Pinky pwomise?”

 

Your eyes widened, and your face turned more bright. For you, a pinky promise was something more meaningful than a signed contract or a proposal ring. You slowly connected your pinky with his, smiling happily. 

 

„Pinky promise.”

 

He reassured you, giving you a gentle kiss on the nose, making you smile once again. After he saw that smile, he knew he wouldn’t ever let anyone make you cry. 

Taglist: @marvelfanfics1 @aew-regression-cove @rafecameronsloverrrrr

[perdvivly]

Not waiting for chance or fate to dictate the terms of how annoying I’m allowed to be on the internet. I am choosing to answer them all now, unasked as I am.

1) This is mildly variable depending on the amount of effort I’m willing to expend. Typically the common theme is no adulterants. No sugar, no milk, no queen of England. If I’m getting fancy with it I’ll make an effort to time the brewing duration, 3mins for a black tea, 5mins for a green tea, 7mins for a herbal tea. But honestly the sort of depression chic I’ve been serving lately has been leaving the bag in and drinking it straight, tannins be damned.

2) Mandarin. Just seems like it’d be the most useful innit. Also, relatively harder to pick up non-magically given my native Englishhood.

3) God. I try not to honestly. No, but seriously, my sleep schedule has been all sorts of out of shape recently. I should work on that. At the moment it varies wildly day to day and depends on my responsibilities the days before and after the sleep. I’ve pulled a couple of all nighters recently and it gets screwy.

4) Maybe atla? I remember really liking it when it came out but not fully understanding the whole plot because I didn’t see it serialised until later. Maybe the simpsons? There’s something to say here about the earnestness of the earlier seasons and seeing a deeply dysfunctional family care about each other in ways they struggle to express—that gets glossed out as the production value rises in the later seasons—that’s like heroin to someone trapped in an irony poisoned world. But maybe that’s cope? Maybe it’s just the show I had the easiest access to as a kid. I guess I didn’t watch a whole bunch of tv or at least not a whole bunch that stuck with me.

5) Summer ez. (Have you seen her baphomet pics? 🥵)

6) In general, I doubt very much that either the optimist or the pessimist considers themselves such. It’s not really the sort of thing that admits of self-diagnosis in that way… Philosophically, the broader question is what? Do I align with Schopenhauer, Voltaire’s Leibniz, or Russel’s Leibniz? I’m not sure the tumblrinas care about the history of philosophy. I guess I’ll say to the extent that Schopenhauer relies on Indian mysticism, which I think is typically underrated, he’s simply mistaken about the world as will and representation. I’ll say that, I’m *not* a Buddhist. I think the doctrine of dukkha misses fundamental aspects of human existence. I’ll say that people have richer inner lives, deeper felt internal experiences, than you might assume from reading their little words on the internet. And that, on the whole, these are good things.

7) I mean, both ideally. Variety is the spice of life. If I had to choose I suppose it would be sunshine. But I’m terribly glad I don’t live in a world where I have to choose.

8) I have the cutest little book marks. My primary two at the moment are the sun and the moon, which I use for main text and end notes respectively. Though, I have been known to dog-ear in my time. I once got yelled at by my aunt for turning the corner of the page on my copy of Harry Potter and the order of the phoenix because it was a first edition and she was under the impression that it may be valuable some day. I was like, come on man, I’m 7. Don’t even piss. <- I didn’t say these things, but I was *like* that.

9) For the longest time I *only* wore steel toe capped boots because I ran myself over with an electric pallet stacker and tore my toenail off and decided I didn’t want that to happen again. I don’t do that anymore because I interact with heavy machinery less than I used to. Now all that matters to me is that they’re waterproof.

10) *My* signature scent like, I produce it? Or like I like it? I guess one of my favourite scents is lavender. But I've been told... Okay, it's important you guys know I do *not* have a yeast infection... I've been told some parts of my body naturally smell like bread, like, that sort of doughy yeasty (I s2g I do *not* (I did not hit her. I did not! oh hi mark)) smell that you get with bread sometimes. Is that what the question was asking?

11) I mean... That's broadly not for me to decide right? Unless the sort of dragons you're imagining have some sort of glamoury illusion magic, which seems plausible. Anyway, do you guys remember in Moby Dick when he goes on this wild tangent about how St. George and The Dragon was acutally about whales? And St. George's horse was actually a walrus or something. What was that about??

Okay, author's note, there's a time skip here. I've been scrolling through lists of dragons in popular culture for a while now and there are a pretty neat and widely varied selection of designs. I'll get back to you on this one.

12) It depends on why I'm writing! If it's a quick note to myself for future reference it'll generally be cursive, if it's an important document that will be read by other people generally it'll be print. If it's time-sensitive it'll be cursive. I remember writing essays for undergrad that I'm sure were totally illegible by the end of them, I think literally just a line on a page with occasional lifts and dips.

13) There is more information on wookieepedia than existed in my philosophy but a few minutes ago. The typology I've discerned is thus: blue - jock, green - nerd, yellow - geek, red - edgelord. And I'm a little bit of all of these, so I think any would be fine. Realistically though, I'm not sure a lightsaber is the best weapon in fantasy space-past-future where spaceships and lasers are common. Like, I'll let it slide because the original trilogy was doing a kirkegaardian faith thing and the prequels were doing a logic doesn't matter it's cool thing, and those are both respectable motivations to leave logistics aside for a bit.

14) Sad

15) Ice skates! I love ice skating!

16) I'm a youngest. I have an older sister, I think I talk about her here from time to time.

17) Well, how I would use it would depend massively on what it was. If the question is which superpower I think is the best then why not ask that? Which superpower would I have has a faint ring of incomprehensibility about it. It's really not clear which counterfactual is under consideration. *If* what?

Anyway, I think time control powers are up there right? Top five at least, easy. Imagine what you could do if you could stop time and sleep whenever you felt like it. I feel King Leerish about the ability to just be well rested. I would do such things, what they are yet I know not.

18) The problem with romantic relationships is that eventually, all of your most interesting clothing will end up in someone else's closet. I think my day-to-day wear tends to be mostly blues, blacks and whites. Not hugely interesting colourwise.

19) Snake, I think, they have fewer demands and I can't really handle any more pressure in my life than I already have. I would hate to be a bad bird mom... I would hate to be a bad snake mom too, but I think it's easier. Typically regarded as easier. I don't know.

20) Okay, so, it's like this right: medieval battle = will probably die. And it's also like this: behind city walls = safe, my friend and lover and confidant. And so, for very obvious reasons, it's gotta be a bow right? Like, I'm standing way out of the action and I'll shoot some arrows long range. But if that's against the spirit of the ask then it's gotta be some kind of polearm, like a halberd or something. Not even close. The advantage you get from distance is hard to overstate. Yeah, polearm for sure.

21) Mint choc chip, it's just such a classic. But also, I had a "london fog" flavour recently that was really compelling. It's just earl grey and vanilla but it's so good.

22) I'm more of a herbs person than a spices person. Like, hmm, I do really enjoy paprika and ginger and stuff like that, don't get me wrong. But it doesn't really hold a candle to the sheer universality of parsley or basil or oregano or mint. Herbs stay winning.

23) These days it's aptos because I am the worlds most basic bitch. And yes, I do still have a fondness for arial.

ask game that tells a lot about you.

how do you take your tea / coffee?

if you could be fluent in any language at the snap of your fingers, which one and why?

when do you wake up?

what was your favourite tv show as a kid?

summer or winter?

realist, optimist, or pessimist?

rain or sunshine?

how do you mark your spot in a book?

what are your favourite shoes like?

what would your non-perfume/cologne signature scent be?

if you were a dragon, what would you look like?

is your handwriting more print, cursive, or a mix?

what colour would your lightsaber be?

what is your defining personality trait?

roller skates or rollerblades or ice skates?

are you an only child? oldest / middle / youngest?

what would your superpower be? how would you use it?

what’s your clothing colour palette?

pet snake or pet bird?

weapon of choice in a medieval battle

the best ice cream flavour

what spices do you always use when cooking?

default font when typing?

[literatelyobsessive]

done for the night

axel kovacevic x reader

author's note ⋆｡𖦹 ✮ ‧₊˚✩彡

hiiiii this is my first fic for any CK character so i'm kinda nervous. hope u like it. i started a pt. 2 already bc i just love axel but i also wanna write him in different scenarios as well! will open my requests asap :)

c.w.

s6pt2 spoilers, drinking.

being in barcelona was a dream. you were grateful that you were able to tag along with the miyagi do's. sensei larusso and sensei lawerence always liked you, especially johnny. being miguel's best friend is a privilege you were happy to have. sure, it came with a lot of drama but it also came with a protector, a group of friends, and some karate skills.

plus, being miyagi do's water girl wasn't a bad deal for being flown out to barcelona.

you were enjoying being on the inside of all the events while not needing to fight. the first couple of rounds you seen were intense. being around all these powerful people made you a little nervous but you had hope nothing terrible would happen like the rumble at west valley. these weren't angry teenagers fueled off drama and angst, they're athletes. aspiring professionals.

after miyagi do managed to stay in the game by the skin of their teeth, everyone was getting ready to go out. sam was talking your and devons ear off about spain and all the things her and miguel were going to do in their freetime when there was a knock at the door. you got up from your spot at the vanity and opened it to see miguel.

he was distressed, foot anxiously tapping with a hand through his hair. "is sam in here?"

"yeah, sam." you waved her over to the door. "you good, miggy?" miguel opened his mouth to speak and his eyes immediately welled up with tears. "what's wrong?"

"my mom..." his voice shook as he took sam in his arms for a hug. "something's wrong with the baby, i need to go back home." he spoke, voice muffled by sams hair.

"of course." you nodded. "is there anything we can do?"

he only shook his head and hugged sam harder.

"miguel." johnny said from the end of the hallway and beckoned him.

miguel let sam go and gave you a quick but tight hug before taking off. you and sam share an uneasy look before going back inside the room.

"miguel's going back home? sensei too?" devon asked and the two of you nodded.

"i need a drink." you said, grabbing your purse.

***

at the bar, everyone just seemed to take the gloominess with them. knowing miguel was struggling made it impossible to have fun.

"what are we going to do now that miguel's gone?" devon asked hawk and demitri.

"we could always have y/n take his spot?" hawk said, giving you a look over like he was sizing you up.

you scoffed. "yeah right, i wasn't even good enough to fight for a spot in the sekai tekai. getting my ass kicked on the world stage isn't on my bucket list."

"i'm serious." hawk said. "if they can't get kenny, you're next up. so don't black out this time." hawk pointed at your drink, remembering the time you got blackout drunk and threw up all over the inside of his car at one of moons parties.

"i'd prefer drunk y/n over kenny any day." demitri started. "at least she didn't shit her pants."

"oooookay." you stood up, taking your empty glass with you. "i'm getting another drink." you saw the way they were looking at you. "my last one. i don't think you guys will need me but if you do, i'll be ready. i promise."

you walked over to the bar, where sam and robby were sitting. "hey."

"hey." sam said and robby only nodded.

"what's with him?" you noticed robby's bad mood as soon as you walked up.

"maybe you can help." sam stood up, taking her cup with her. "i'm gonna go sit with the others for a sec, see if miguel still has service."

"okay." you nodded, taking sams spot at the bar. "what's wrong?"

"everything." robby sighed. "i need a drink."

you wanted to tell him not to, that it wouldn't solve anything but you knew that he already knew.

"get one, whatever you want. i got us for the first round." you took some cash from your pocket. "hey, can i get a mai tai and..."

"a rum and coke. double. please." robby asked and the bartender nodded, getting to work on your drinks.

"it's one of those nights, huh?" he only nodded, peering at the other edge of the bar for a moment before scoffing and turning back to you.

"yeah." you looked down to where he had just looked, to see tory and kwon sitting besided each other. kwon had an arm around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear.

"i'm sorry robby. she's gonna come around, i know she is."

"i don't know. she's doing better without me." robby took a sip of his drink and looked down to where tory was sitting. kwon had separated from her but was still close. "and i'm here." he looked at his drink. "thanks by the way."

"it's not good to drink alone. especially when you're down." you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "also, i missed out on the robby who smoked weed and skated everywhere. i hear he was kinda fun."

"i still skate everywhere." he said with a small laugh. "just not a skate rat anymore."

"yeah, you're the captain now." you gently nudged his shoulder. "i don't know how that feels exactly, the pressure, but i do know that you're gonna make everyone back home proud. especially tory."

"i hope so." he took another drink and eventually, his was gone.

"i know so. she's been watching every one of your fights."

robby cringed a little bit. "knowing i've lost every one of my fights definitely makes me feel lame."

"you're still in it. there's still tomorrow." you took another sip of your drink.

robby nodded. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

you nodded in return, looking over your shoulder to see hawk on his phone, sam and devon talking, and demitri dancing with a girl. when you turned back to where robby was sitting, kwon was in his seat.

"hi."

"hello." you were playing with your straw.

"what are you drinking?"

"a mai tai." your responses were dry but kwon wasn't backing off.

"do you want to dance?" he offered his hands but you shook your head, backing away a little.

"no, thanks."

"what? you're only miyagi do's little girlfriend? not for the rest of us?" kwon leaned in closer. "i can treat you better than keene."

"leave me alone, kwon."

"hey." robby's voice came from behind you.

kwon only scoffed and backed up. "someone's waiting for me anyways." he stood up. "i promise i'll keep her warm tonight, keene." he said before leaving the bar.

"are you okay?"

"i need some air." you stood up and went outside, leaving your friends at the bar. you felt bad for leaving robby alone but you couldn't be there anymore.

you felt the effects of the alcohol as you walked down to the beach. your head was spinning. you stopped and took a seat near the shore, sighing as you looked out to the water.

and then you saw him.

axel kovacevic.

he had been destroying his opponents on the mat. nobody's been able to land a point on him. he was one of the strongest competitors. he was stoic too, especially now as he was practicing his kata about 10 feet away from you. in the moonlight, by the ocean, with the alcohol making your perspective soft, he wasn't robotic. he was focused. until he caught you staring at him.

you made eye contact and immediately looked down at your lap. you waited about 5 seconds to check if he was still looking and he was full on staring. it was awkward. he wasn't looking at you as a threat, but with curiosity.

the two of you observed each other for a silent minute before you decided to say something. "hi." you waved and he didn't say anything in return. "you're axel right?" he nodded. "i'm y/n. i liked the kata you were doing."

"i'm not supposed to speak with opponent." he turned away from you and you stood up.

"i'm not your opponent. i'm not even fighting in the tournament. more like, emergency backup." you smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upwards.

"why aren't you fighting?" he asked curiously, taking a step closer to you.

"i'm not really a fighter like my friends are." you shrugged. "you're great though."

"i'm alright." he leaned over to pick up his shirt and revealed bruises on his back. the sight made you wince.

"what happened?"

"bo staff competition."

"nobody has been able to land a point on you yet." you looked at him and he had a sort of an embarrassed look. "i know about... your sensei. one of my friends saw. it's not right. you should be out with your team, not practicing alone."

"there's always time for practice. my sensei wants me to be the best. it's because of him i never lose."

"doesn't make it right." you responded. "your entire dojo is pretty great though, i have to admit."

"you're pretty." axel stopped himself. your face was on fire and so was his. "your dojo's pretty good too."

"thanks. do you wanna walk with me? back to the hotel?" you asked, rocking on your heels. axel looked around and nodded and you both took off into the night.

"how long have you been fighting for?" you asked.

"ever since i was a kid. what about you?"

"only a couple years. after one of my friends got really hurt, i decided i had to get serious about learning. he had been teaching me some stuff but when it happened i just had to join a dojo. it was actually... cobra kai."

axel looked at you in disbelief. "you were in cobra kai?"

"yeah. after miguel got hurt, i was really angry and i took it out on everyone."

"miguel..."

"he was the original cobra kai." you remembered when miguel excitedly showed you his first gi. "it's a long story though. those sensei's, silver. they put me and all my friends through hell. so i know what its like to have a sensei do anything to make you the best, even hurt you."

axel couldn't say anything, he could only look at you with wonder. "is that why you don't fight anymore?"

"kind of. i don't know. i'm just not as angry as i used to be. i feel like my anger was the only reason i was ever good and i don't wanna live like that." you shrugged.

"i understand." he nodded. "i love karate but i don't want to be a robot all the time." you shook your head and opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted. "i hear what everyone says. they call me a monster, a machine. sometimes i just want to be axel." you nodded, this time you didn't have anything to say. "that's why i like to travel. i get to disappear in each city whenever i'm not fighting."

"how many cities have you been to?"

"a lot." he chuckled and listed all the cities and countries he's been to. you listened in awe. "what about you?"

"i've never really left california." you responded. "but after being here, i'd love to see everything. the sagrada familia makes me feel small but not in a scary way. it's like a monument to the great things humans can do."

"how cute!" a familiar voice interrupted. "little rival team playtime, huh?" kwon and another cobra kai came from around the corner. "thought you were only for miyagi do to play with."

"and i thought i told you to leave me alone." you tried to push past them but they blocked the path. you could smell the alcohol on kwons breath as he spoke. "just let us go."

"what's the magic word?" kwon asked, leaning in closer to you.

"move." you responded bluntly, not wanting anything else to do with this.

"wrong." kwon scoffed and shook his head. he glanced over your shoulder and you were sure someone was behind you.

"we just want to go back to the hotel." you weren't planning on giving kwon what he wanted.

"okay. you can go, only if you say please." kwon was in your face again, smug smile plastered on his face.

before you knew it, the other cobra kai kicked axel. it barely affected him as he shot into action to defend the both of you.

"come on, hit me. show me why they brought you here." kwon tapped his cheek and you were about to raise your arm when you were grabbed from behind. you elbowed whoever grabbed you multiple times before being able to slither out and kick him across the face. at the same time, axel shoved the other cobra kai into kwon. "okay come on. i'll take you both."

the sound of sirens took everyone but kwon out of the fight. he was still pressing axel and had to be taken away by his teammates.

"come on, let's go."

the two of you bolted back to the beach. after catching your breath, you started laughing a little.

"what?" axel asked.

"that guy kicked you and you barely moved. you have a strong base."

axel looked away from you, a smile spreading across his face. "thanks. that was a nice roundhouse."

"thanks, axel." you smiled at him and then looked out at the ocean. when you looked back at him, he was staring. no, he was admiring you. "what?"

axel said nothing, he only reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. his hand brushed against your face and you leaned into the touch.

and then he kissed you.

and you kissed him back. it was perfect. he was cradling your face with one hand, pulling you closer by your waist with the other. his mouth moved against yours softly and romantically. it was sweet. he didn't want anything other than to kiss you and you were happy to oblige and let yourself be putty in his hands.

but then your head started spinning again. you pulled away abruptly, taking a deep breath as you came up for air. the alcohol, the running, and the kissing were all making you dizzy. "axel i-."

"i'm sorry, i should go. already after curfew." axel took off running down the beach.

"wait, axel!" you called out after him but he was gone. you felt terrible as you went back inside the bar to meet with your team. everyone was already heading out and robby was nowhere to be seen. you figured he had went back to the hotel and hoped he would be fine. everyone else on the other hand would be dealing with their drama for a minute, including yourself.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ keep on comin’ back

babydaddy!toji x fem!reader

the reason he keeps on comin back.

tags: dilf toji, explicit language, dirty talking, creaming, squirting, mentions of breeding, missionary, riding, creampie, nipple play, spanking, etc.

note: shoutout to oomf who said toji keeps coming back to me, you the inspo for this.

“What are you doing here? It’s not my week—hi megs, mimi!” you diverted your attention from your baby daddy to your adopted son and your daughter, hugging their small bodies; before letting them inside of your house.

Turning back around to block him from getting in, you bring up your question again. “What are you doing here? Don’t think you’re getting any, last time was a mistake.”

“Last time we almost gave those two another sibling and I didn’t hear you complaining when you were screaming my name and scratching my back up, while i made you cum back to back.” You bit your lip as he helped you remember the last time he unexpectedly came over, which led to you having multiple mind blowing orgasms that night; and a pregnancy scare.

“well that’s never gonna happen again. now are you gonna answer me?” you stared at his green eyes, arms folded over one another—unconsciously pushing your boobs up through your black beater.

“megumi’s supposed to be having a sleepover with his best friend, yuuji, at our place, but the plumbing’s backed up for like a good week. so, he asked could we do it at mommy’s house. plus, mimi said she missed her mommy.” you cooed and looked back at your daughter and step-son, watching them play with one another.

and before you could open your mouth up to ask a follow up question, toji beat you to the punch.

“tried to find somewhere else for me to go. but, there wasn’t any hotels available. and i think it would be great for the kids to have both parents under one roof. what do ya think?” he asked and you sighed, before moving aside to let him in.

“bags are in the truck,” he smiled and kissed your cheek, turning on his heel to grab their things from his car.

being in an on again and off again relationship with each other was took a toll on you both, but it was also tough for the kids. they couldn’t understand why mommy and daddy aren’t together, however it was moments like this they were happy to have. and deep down inside, you both felt the same.

Toji returned with their bags and made his way up their stairs to the kids room, and the guest bedroom, with mimi hot on his tail. While the two of them got situated upstairs, megumi followed you into the kitchen to help you with tonight’s meal. You giggled as you watched him put on his mini apron before stepping onto his stool to watch you clean some meat for dinner.

Megumi watched with an intent stare as you moved with ease, learning from you while you cooked. “mommy? do you love dad?”

his question caught you by surprise and you nearly sliced your finger off. “yes, but not as much as i love you,” he giggled when you ruffled his raven locks before focusing back on the meal. although megumi’s mom died when he was a baby, you still loved him like he was your own. and truth be told, you really did love toji; no matter how many times he annoyed you.

“so, then why aren’t you guys married? my friend yuuji said that his dad said if two people love each, they should marry each other. plus, i saw this shiny ring in dad’s room at the other house—“

you eyes were wide. a fucking ring? there’s no way—maybe he’s got someone else in mind…right?

“mm…i don’t know. hey, you wanna have that sleepover still? go get the house phone and I’ll call yuuji’s dad.” you nervously laughed and watched him leave, before sighing out.

there’s no way, right?

—

the next couple of hours flew by, your mind was practically a blur—still caught up on the fact that toji has a ring and that he could possibly propose to you.

even though you guys broke up on good terms, parts of you missed him. real bad. you missed having him in your arms at night. missed his scent being all over you. missed him being with you and the kids. missed having him so deep inside of you almost every night.

and the reason the two of you broke up was because of him. he pushed you away, pushed you away from his heart.

yuuji came over and was having a ball with your kids, before the three of them crashed for the night, finally allowing you to have some time for yourself. you lounged on your plush brown couch, glass of wine in your hand as you caught up with one of your favorite shows, when toji’s deep voice echoed through your ears.

“knew I would find you here. what are ya watching?”

“uhh supernatural….toji can i ask you a question?”

“ya just did,” he chuckled and ducked when you hit him in the head with a throw pillow. “you know what i meant.” he nodded and you sipped some more of your wine before turning to look at him, your heart beating out of your chest; while you felt a heartbeat elsewhere.

“the ring you have, is that for me?” there was pause and his eyes caught yours. and before he could open his mouth, you spoke once more.

“meg’s told me you had it. do you really wanna marry me? do you think—“ your nervous rambling was caught off by his lips. the scar on his upper lip rubbing smoothly against yours, making you moan out. and when he pulled away, you whimpered; yearning for more.

“gotta teach him to keep secrets. damn big mouth.” he teased megumi and you gave him a slight kick, giggling at him, before he pulled you onto his lap—your plush thighs melting against his waist.

“but, yeah. ‘m gonna marry you. make you mine and pump you full of my babies,” his last comment sent shivers up your spine and you could feel your panties moisten with arousal. the tension was overwhelming and you couldn’t take it anymore. you crawled off his lap and swiftly pulled his dark grey sweatpants down to his knees, making his fat cock spring to life; before you immediately wrapped your plump lips around his head.

toji sucked in some air and tangled his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it while you worked your way down his dick. his cock was coated with your salvia, dripping down from his angry red tip—to the top of his balls, before you scooped it up and rubbed it all over him.

he was in pure bliss. basking in the sheer pleasure you were giving him. his jaw clenching as you made a sloppy messy on him, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to slip; until you swirled against his frenulum & teased his tip, making him loudly groan out.

you released him with a ‘pop’ sound echoing, your small hands jerking him off while you maintained eye contact with him, “shhh don’t wanna wake them up. now do we?” the look on his face sent a jolt of electricity up your spine and to your aching cunt, causing a switch to flip inside of you.

he watched you quickly pull your panties down, your slick sticking to the fabric, webs of your arousal following; before you squatted down onto his lap once more. “need you inside. need you to cum deep inside of me.”

you whined when you pushed him in, walls immediately stretching out and wrapping around him. this is what he missed. this is why he kept coming back…..well, one of the reasons.

his hands met your hips and helped guide you up and down on his dick, tip pressing into your cervix every once and a while. it didn’t take long for the moans to flow out freely from your mouth as you continued to bounce, stuffing you. and soon, you became even more gushy, cunt squelching while cream started form around his base—sticking to your skin while you moved.

“fuck you’re so tight. missed this pussy,” his hands collide with your ass, the fat rippling from the impact. he gripped the globes of your ass, loving the soft fat, before resting his hands on one of your cheeks.

everything about this felt sooo good. the noises you created and the touches he was giving you, was sheer bliss and you could feel an orgasm approaching. toji could feel you clenching down on him repeatedly and he groaned at the sensation. with his free hand he pulled the sleeves to your beater down—pushing it down a little—before putting one of your plump mounds into his mouth.

the warm, wet feeling of his mouth made you throw your head back; still enduring the workout of bouncing on his fat cock.

he didn’t know how he was able to last this long inside of you, especially with how long it’s been since the last time and the unbelievable head you gave him. but, he was nearing his end too.

you could feel his hands move to your waist, before your back met the soft plushness of the couch and your legs were planted at his sides. now, his cock was nestled deep inside of your tummy, hitting your spot each time he thrusted.

toji reached underneath your thighs and pulled out your wet sticky underwear, putting it into your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that left your lips. your eyes was rolling back into your head as he fucked an orgasm out of you. well, that is until he pulled you by your hair; forcing you to watch him fuck everything out of you.

“look at the mess yer makin—shit! cum for me mamas”

oh the mess you made.

specks of white blurred your vision as you stomach caved in and a stream of clear fluid splashed out, drenching his black t-shirt and the cushions underneath. you had reached nirvana, but the pleasure didn’t stop there.

toji’s grip on your hair tightened while he pounded your cunt silly—splitting you open, pumping thick white ropes of his seed inside of you.

unable to formulate any words, he just smashed his lips onto yours; hands around your neck as the two of you shared the best orgasms of your lives.

this was it. this is exactly what you wanted. what he needed. why he kept coming back.

he sat back, catching his breath while you started to come back to reality, staring at you with pure love. “guess we gotta order a new crib. hm?”

[calypsocolada]

THE MEAN ONE | i. yoichi

synopsis: you're against love, deemed the mean one of the school but someone seems to think differently... authors note: this was such a blast to write. getting the creative juices flowing. I'll attribute that to imogen heap and the fact i listened to the walk by imogen probably fifty times while writing this. anyways this is the final part in my little soccer trio series. i hope you all enjoy! wc: 5.2k cw: angst, fem reader, not proofread click here for my masterlist!

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

You had a nickname in school. You’d heard it a few times from your friend's boyfriend, a few times in passing, maybe once or twice at a soccer game. The mean one. The mean friend. The mean girl. Mean. Sure… most people might’ve thought an assertive woman was a mean woman. But… to be honest… You were a bit mean. You had to be. For the longest time you’d been ignored. Your parents in and out of the house on work trips. They were busy people. Too busy for their mean little daughter. Not that they caused it or anything by practically treating you like a specter. You never wanted things to be like that at school. You never wanted to be walked all over and ignored. You were tired of feeling like a ghost. So when something was wrong, or your feelings were hurt you didn’t bottle them up like you did back at home. So sure… maybe your words came out a bit sharper than anticipated. Coupled with the fact that a scowl fits better on your face than a smile. 

To be honest it didn’t really bother you much. The people closest to you knew your heart.

What did bother you was a loud mouthed know-it-all ball kicker named Isagi Yoichi that would not or simply could not leave you alone. It was like he was addicted to raising your blood pressure. Addicted to hearing you huff and call him names. Genuinely you were starting to wonder if there was something really truly wrong with him. But also… you didn’t like to think about him too much so you chalked it up to him being an idiot with a death wish. 

“It’s just… you talk about him so passionately. One has to wonder.” Your friend cut in the middle of your Isagi rant. You stopped dead in your tracks, your friend bumping into you. You thought she was a safe person to talk to about him since all your other friends banned you from complaining about him. You turned, a possibly manic look in your eyes as your friend stepped back, amused fear on her face as she bumped into Nagi. He’d been walking silently behind your friend, blushing.They’d gotten together last week and had been inseparable since. To your dismay. You didn’t believe in love, let alone ever felt the feelings associated with crushing on someone. You weren’t sure you were even capable of that. So sure you and your pessimistic self probably weren't the best to be around right now for your friend who was practically glowing. 

“It’s true, Y/n.” Nagi yawned, throwing an arm around your friend. “One has to wonder.”

“Who the hell asked you, sloth?” You hissed, eyes sharp as Nagi pouted. Your friend gave you a look, ruffling Nagi’s hair. 

“Be nice. And if Isagi bugs you so much, stop talking to him.”

“He talks to me!” You threw your hands up dramatically. “He seeks me out!”

“He likes you.” Nagi adds as your eyes cut to his like daggers. He froze under your stare. “Or not?” He shrugged as you gathered yourself. 

“You’re no help.” You pointed at your friend as she blushed, giggling. 

“And you called me dramatic!” She called after you as you halfheartedly waved to her as you walked to your car. You spotted the devil himself pulling his soccer bag out of the back of his car. Your guys' assigned parking spots just happened to be directly next to each other so no matter what you had to see him at least twice a day. And then sometimes you had to go to his practices for student council purposes, to make sure the club was running smoothly and what not.

You fished your key’s from your bag as you approached your car, clicking the button to unlock your doors. Isagi straightened at the sound, glancing over his shoulder as his eyes landed on you. You paid him no mind as you neared your car. 

“Headed home?” He asked casually. You didn’t answer. Just pulled your trunk open and tossed your backpack inside. “Thought you were coming to practice?” He asked.

“I was there yesterday.” You argued then silently cursed yourself for answering.

“You were?” Isagi questioned, tilting his head to the side, black hair falling over his forehead.

“Yes.” You answered shortly, slamming your trunk shut. 

“Must’ve missed you.” He said, gently shutting his own trunk, his eyes glued to your every movement. You met his eyes and wrinkled your brows at him.

“What?” You huffed. A crooked smile fitted to his lips as he leisurely leaned against his trunk. 

“You come to the practices but never the actual games.”

“Why would I come to the games?” You ask as Isagi raises his brows.

“To see me in action.” He says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You stared at him for a long moment. 

“Why the fuck would I wanna watch you in action?” You ask sharply as Isagi just laughs. There’s this thing about Isagi. No matter how annoyed or short you got with him it was like water off a duck's back. He never returned your anger, never bickered with you or huffed.

“Don’t you wanna see hard work pay off?”

“Your hardwork?” You ask as he nods his head and at that you shake your head. “Nope.”

“Come to a game.” Isagi asks as you shake your head. 

“No thanks.”

“Y/n… come on. Just one?”

“No.” You replied exasperatedly walking around towards the driver seat of your car as Isagi pushes off his car, following you.

“I’ll owe you.” He throws out as you pull your car door open.

“What?”

“I’ll owe you. Whatever you want in exchange for you coming to one of my games.” 

“Why the hell does it matter to you so much?” You hiss, turning around. Isagi looks at a loss for words for a moment.

“One game. That’s all I’m asking for.” He asks and there is this hopeful look in his eyes. You’d never been more confused in your life than this moment. Why did it matter to him if you came? 

“Did someone put you up to this?” You ask incredibly suspicious. Isagi shakes his head.

“No.”

“No?” You echo, your eyes insatiable as they dance across his face, trying and failing to read his expression. 

“No one put me up to anything.”

“Why ask me? We’re not friends. I don’t like you.”

“You don’t like me?” Isagi asks, a small knowing smirk on his lips.

“Isagi,” You cautioned as he scoffed out a laugh.

“It’s just one game. It won’t kill you. Plus I know your friend will be there, supporting Nagi.” Isagi points out as you scrunch up your face. 

“I don’t get you.”

“You don’t need to.” Isagi shrugs. “Just one game.” 

“Will you leave me alone for the rest of the school year if I go and watch you lose?” You ask sort of offhandedly with an exasperated sigh. You found yourself giving in. Isagi looks at you, there’s a strange expression on his face for a moment.

“You want that?” He asks and his voice is almost softlike, almost… hurt? But his expression changed in an instant and you wondered if you’d even heard him right in the first place. He laughed a breathy laugh, cocking his head to the side. “If that’s what you want then sure.” He sounded amused but he wasn’t meeting your eyes.

“Fine. One game.” You say cautiously, your face in a confused scowl.

“I’ll see you Friday night then.” He smirks, pushing off your car, tossing his soccer bag back over his shoulder. You watched him go, watching his wave down Nagi as they stalked off towards the field.

What the fuck just happened?

~

Friday came quickly. The week passed in a blur of cramming for tests and a whirlwind of student council projects. You barely had any time to think about your parking lot moment with Isagi. Him bargaining for you to come to one game. As your friend brushed and fixed her hair your mind wandered. It had tried to wander many times this week but you were able to block it out. Now that it was friday and barely half an hour before the game you couldn’t block it out anymore. You started thinking about Isagi. His motives. Did he want to embarrass you? 

Haha look who showed up to the game just cause I asked her!

Although you had a seemingly one sided dislike of the boy he was never outwardly cruel to you. In fact… you had always been the one starting things. You just… had a hard time believing someone would want to talk to you so goddamn much without a secret motive. As you pondered all this your friend pinched you. You yelped, rubbing your arm as she smirked at you.

“Why the sudden interest in coming to a game?” She asks as you shoot her a sharp look.

“There’s no interest, I’m just coming with you.” You shrugged. There was absolutely no way you were going to tell her about Isagi asking and you actually agreeing. 

“Right… So,” She turns you. “Did you hear about Rin and that new girl?” You couldn’t care less but you just shook your head as she rambled on about Rin Itoshi dating some girl who just moved to town a few months ago.

“Jealous?” You asked as your friend shook her head and smiled softly, a dreamy look in her eyes. She had Nagi, there was nothing for her to be jealous about. 

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” You hummed as you pulled your unruly hair back out of your face.

“Do you like anyone in school?” She asked, walking behind you and helping you braid your hair back out of your face. You scoffed a laugh and she tugged your hair slightly. “Don’t be like that. It’s not as embarrassing as you think it is.” She scolds you as you pout slightly. It was embarrassing. Saying you liked someone felt like a peak into your brain you just weren’t comfortable with letting happen. That and… you didn’t have a crush to mention anyways. 

“I don’t like anyone.” You say after a moment. “I’m the mean one remember.” You tease. Your friend must’ve heard something in your tone as she walks around to face you. 

“You aren’t mean. Did Nagi call you that recently? I told him to stop that shit.” She says protectively as you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“He hasn’t.” You amend. “But they all think so. And what do I care? That just means people will leave me be.”

“No one wants to be left alone all the time.” Your friend says, booping your nose, a small thing that has you cheering up a bit.

“I have friends. I have you. I’m good.” You wave her off, pushing to your feet. 

“That’s right, you have me.” She smirks. “Who cares about some ’know-it-all ball kicker’ you're obviously going to the game to watch.”

“You ruined a perfectly good moment.” You blush, pushing past her. “I’m not even dignifying that with a response.”

The game was just about starting by the time you and your friends arrived. You sat near the side of the field. You had watched plenty of practices. Watched drills and scrimmages and you never really considered yourself a sports person.

That’s because you’d never been to an actual live game.

“Come on! A fucking yellow flag!” You hissed, tossing your popcorn in anger. Your friend beside you looked at you with a mixture of horror and amusement. You ignored her. This other team was clearly getting special treatment from the referees. Every single thing the boys did seemed to earn them a flag. It was frustrating.

“They’re winning… by like a lot.” Your friend points out as you give her a sharp look.

“So what? Doesn’t change the fact that these refs are idiots!” You yell as a ref on the field turns, pouting. Your friend calls out sorry to him as you give him the death stare. 

“You’re way into this-”

“Hush,” You wave her off. Your eyes glued to Isagi as he sneaks up the side of the field, you watch him barely raise his head to Nagi who passes him the ball towards the left side of the goal. You grip your friend's arm hard as Isagi smashes the ball into the goal. You're on your feet in seconds as the crowd erupts in cheers, your poorly placed popcorn spilling onto the ground. You clap and cheer along with the crowd. They won 7-2. Your friend laughs hard at you, a knowing look in her eyes. 

Later you follow your friend as she pulls you through the crowd, the only time she lets go is when she spots Nagi. You watch as she takes off in a run, Nagi catching her midrun, spinning her around as she congratulates him. You watch them for a moment, a part of you feels strange. You watch your friend smile, you watch Nagi blush. Their secret moments on the crowded field. You swallowed something down, a sadness over something you didn’t understand. 

“I can’t believe it… you actually came.” A warm voice calls out to your right, you turn as Isagi pushes through the crowd over to you. His face is flushed from the game, hair pushed back off his forehead. He has this look on his face, a smile that makes your stomach twist. 

“I’m upholding my end of the deal.” You say back to him as he smiles, a soft laugh escaping him. You cross your hands defensively as something bubbles within you. “That was… a good game.”

“Just good? You seemed pretty passionate in those stands.” He smirks. You blush suddenly. Ah, he heard that. 

“Well… those refs were idiots. I stand by that.” You double down as he laughs again, fuller this time. He… had a nice laugh. A warm laugh that heated your insides. “And that final goal was… impressive. I guess.” You shrug, trying for nonchalant. 

“You guess?” Isagi echos, a beaming smile on his lips, it almost makes you smile. Almost. 

“Hey, Y/n!” Your friend calls out to you, you turn as she slams into you with a hug. “Nagi and I are gonna go get dinner. You can give her a ride home right, Isagi?” Your friend asks as you turn to her, brows furrowed, half formed curses on your lips.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Isagi agrees easily. 

“Hey! What-”

“Great!” Your friend interrupts. “Thanks Isagi. We’ll talk later, Y/n.” Your friend beams, running towards Nagi.

“What the hell! Hey!” You call after her but she’s in Nagi’s embrace as they walk off towards the parking lot. “Bitch!” Isagi scoffs a laugh at that as you turn to him. 

“I don’t mind.” He says, his eyes easy on yours. What the hell! Your friend knew everything, knew you disliked this boy… most of the time. And she left you with him. Left you as his problem to deal with. What a traitor. 

“Forget it. I don’t live too far. I can walk.” You wave off. You weren’t anyone’s problem. You’d gone to Isagi’s house before, for student council purposes, and taking you home would be out of his way.

“No.” Isagi shakes his head as he grabs his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. “It’s night time, Y/n, you can’t walk.”

“It’s out of your way though.” You point out and he gives you a look with a raised brow.

“So what?” He appealed.

“So… it’s a waste of gas.” You try to reason and he just laughs, shaking his head but when he goes to respond he’s interrupted. A girl from your class calls out to him. He turns as she beams up at him. You feel a twist in your gut at the interaction. She congratulates him on the win and blushes when he thanks her, a winning smile on his lips. The girl glances your direction, she blinks. 

“Y/n? I didn’t know you’d be here.” She greets as you shrug.

“Me neither.” You say as she looks between you and Isagi before looking you up and down. She pouts at something when she looks back at Isagi and when you turn to look at him he’s looking at you, a strange almost… soft expression on his face. You look away instantly.   

“Well… that last goal was something.” The girl directs the attention back to her as she reaches out, barely touching Isagi’s arm. “You’re really good at soccer, Isagi… you must practice a whole lot.” She bats her eyes and you're suddenly very aware that you don’t want to be a part of this conversation anymore. When she starts talking again you slowly slink away, weaving through the crowd back towards the parking lot, your knee jerk reaction winning. 

You couldn’t stand there another moment. For some reason that girl infuriated you. For some reason you felt warm and red and annoyed. These were feelings you didn’t understand and that freaked you out. When it came to fight or flight this time you chose flight. 

You passed the gate of the field and wrapped your arms closer to your body, shivering from the cold. You did not live close by whatsoever, it’d easily take you an hour to walk home. You supposed you could try and jog the whole way but who were you kidding, you read more than you moved. You pulled out your phone, looking through your contacts. Both your parents were out for the rest of the week. You couldn’t call your traitorous friend who caused all this in the first place and your other two friends you didn’t want to bother. You heaved a sigh. Walking it was…

“Y/n!” Isagi called, you heard his cleats slamming against the pavement as he searched for you. Embarrassment flooded your system and you were half tempted to duck and hide. But instead you stopped as he finally caught sight of you. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he made his way to you, bobbing and weaving through the cars.

“You were seriously going to leave and walk home without saying anything?” He asked as you shrugged.

“You were… flirting so I thought i’d just-”

“Flirting?” Isagi echoes, shaking his head in a resolute way. “Not with her, no.” He leaves no room for discussion, no room for doubt in his steady tone.

“Oh I thought…” You trail off, clearing your throat, shivering from the cold. Isagi notices in an instant, pulling off his own jacket. He steps in your space, he’s taller than you, just barely. He throws the jacket over your shoulders, his hands still on the jacket as it’s on you. You two are close and when you tilt your head up your eyes meet his. There’s a spark of tension, it starts when he chances a touch. His hands just barely glide over your upper forearms, rubbing up and down to warm you. It ignites through you like a lit match, lighting you up from the point of contact all throughout your body. It makes you lightheaded and speechless, something you never were. You always had a quip, something to say, something to hide behind. But that spark, that fire had dismantled any coherent thought. It dulled your sharp tongue. 

“Come on, it’s cold out.” Isagi persuades softly and only when he pulls away do you find your wits. You blink a few times. How the hell does a short lingering touch have you in such a way? You blamed it on your lack of romance, you reasoned in a short amount of time that lack of attention clearly had you starving for any bone thrown your way.

Yeah.

Yeah. That’s it. You reasoned.

You followed Isagi, paused as he tossed his bag in the trunk and blushed when he opened the passenger door for you.

“I can open my own door.” You said but your words lacked their usual bite. 

“I know you can.” Isagi says. You slid inside and cringed at yourself. You wanted to smack yourself as your heart sped in your chest. You argue with this boy day after day but he gives you his jacket and suddenly you blush like a schoolgirl? You needed to get home quickly and also never speak to your friend ever again. Isagi jumps into the driver's seat, turning over his car as he fiddles with the heat. “Better?” He asks as you look at him sharply.

“It’s fine.” You answer curtly but if you sound annoyed he doesn’t pretend to notice. He smiles, putting the car in reverse as he backs out of the spot, one handed. You watch him and hate the fact that your eyes linger on his hands on the wheel. You tear your eyes away. What got you in this seat? Your friend left you… probably purposefully. You went to the game because Isagi asked? No, he made a deal… “I showed up to your game. Are you gonna hold up your side of the deal?” You asked. He promised not to talk to you the rest of the year and to be honest… you hoped he would because you felt something shift tonight. That strong feeling you claimed to feel for him for so long didn’t seem to fit anymore. That strong dislike was melting and the defensive measures built within you were reaching out pushing that wall back up with all its might. You couldn’t let him in. Your parents hated each other, they claimed it to be love. You had made a choice long ago that if that’s what love was then that’s not something you ever wanted to feel. Love was a sickness. You were lonely. It wasn’t going to be your cure. Some stupid boy wasn’t going to wreck you in one stupid night. This meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything. As much as you didn’t want to be a ghost floating about life… you weren’t exactly ready to be seen like that. 

“The deal, huh?” Isagi asks lightheartedly. “And what was that again?”

“You’ll leave me alone… for the rest of the year.” You answer, your eyes flicking to the side of his face. He’s amused, you can see it in the curve of his mouth. He drums his fingers on the wheel.

“Ah. That…” He trails off. “You know… I seem to recall a little clause in that deal.”

“Hm?” 

“Well… when you made the deal you specifically said I’d have to stop talking with you if you came along and…”

“And?”

“Watch me lose.” He says, turning onto a main street. You furrowed your brows… that’s right… you did say that. Isagi stops at a red light, looking over at you. “Clearly… I didn’t lose.”

“That… that’s silly.” You shake your head, meeting his smirking look. “I just added that part to be a bitch, clearly.”

“Regardless of intention I don’t need to hold up my side of the deal, Y/n.”

“What? Y-you can’t just decide that! I came to the game and I stayed the whole time.” You argued back only half joking.

“Staying the entire time wasn’t a part of the deal. Now you're just adding things.” Isagi bantered as you huffed in your seat. All that prior spiraling out about love was put on hold, you had a bit of your mojo back.

“My choice words about losing was a caveat, a warning. That’s all. It wasn’t a part of the deal.”

“Ah… trying to use fancy words to confuse the jock, that’s below you.” Isagi jests, shaking his head as a bark of laughter escapes your lips. 

“I defined the word in the same sentence, Isagi.” You refuted.

“I’m sorry, this is out of your hands, Y/n. I’ve decided not to uphold my end.”

“You’re a man without honor!” You groaned, slumping in your chair. Isagi glances over at you, your eyes meet for a second before he descends into that same warm laughter like before. You watch him unashamedly, feel that same warmth bloom inside you. You can’t look away, can’t look away from his soft jawline, his bobbing adam's apple. He meets your eyes again as he pulls into your driveway, all the lights in your house are out, your home like a haunted house on the hill, no warmth. Isagi looks out at it.

“Your parents' home?” He asks in the quiet of the car.

“They’re on work trips.” You answer, he rolls his eyes back to you. You feel the weight of his stare, feel the warmth again and again and wonder if it’s going to burn you and leave scars. Would he trace your scars? You flinched at that thought. 

“When will they be back?”

“Next week sometime… I… I’m not actually sure.” You try for a lighthearted tone but your laugh falls flat as Isagi’s eyes search your face for answers you wouldn’t give willingly. 

“Y/n?” 

“Hm?” You hum and when you meet his eyes you suck in a breath at the intimateness of the moment. 

“Do you… really dislike me? Because…” Isagi asks and you hold your breath.

“Because?” You prompt. Isagi turns a bit in his seat, to face you better.

“Nagi thinks you mean it. That you hate me. That I’m… ruining my chance.”

“Your chance?” You can’t help but echo the words and watch Isagi’s face flush like back on the field as he shifts slightly uncomfortable in his seat. 

“Do I have one, Y/n? Or do you really hate me… It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You sigh, staring out at your empty house. “I know I can be mean.”

“You’re not mean, Y/n. I think you just don’t want too many people poking around your life.” Isagi points out and suddenly and dizzyingly you realize… maybe it’d be okay for Isagi to… poke around your life in his own words.

“Right,” You nod your head, tucking your hair back out of your face.

“So? Y/n do I have a chance with you? Because… I would really fucking like one.” A fierce blush spreads across your face at his words. 

“Why? Why would you want that?” You ask, insecure and shaken.

“I like you. I like talking with you. I think you're incredibly smart and driven. You’re pretty… really really pretty. And scary too.” He laughs. “Most of the guys at school are terrified of you.”

“For good reason.” You reckon, voice shaky from his confession.

“I’m glad they stay away from you. I don’t want the competition.” He says and his words pull a laugh from you as you meet his eyes again. 

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to shy from a little competition.” You return as he shrugs.

“I said I didn’t want the competition, not that I’d shy away from you. When it comes to you I’d participate and I’d win. It’s what I do.” He smirks. You can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“What an ego.” You sigh. 

“You don’t have to answer me right now. Or ever if that’s what you decide.” He turns off the car. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” You push open the door and he meets you around the front of his car. When you turn he stops you, a gentle hand on your forearm. You pause and he steps close to you, reaching. For a dizzying moment you think he’s going to make a move. But with a gentle hand he pulls the sides of his jacket that you're wearing together and he zips it up for you. You swallow dryly, eyes drifting shamelessly to his lips. You wanted him to kiss you. You want to kiss him. So damn badly. “My jacket looks good on you.” He smiles and you want to hit him because the flip your heart does is almost painful.

“You’re gonna freeze.” You reply.

“That’s a problem… What should I do?” He asks, a smirk on his lips. You meet his eyes. “Maybe you should share the warmth?” You think maybe you stopped breathing a while ago. 

“Maybe you should take some.” You force out. He looks in your eyes, his eyes dipping to your lips, they stay there for a few seconds.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You reply in an instant and in another instant he’s leaning into your space, invading it with permission. One of his hands is sliding around your hip, he’s tugging you a step closer. Your hands are useless at your sides. You’ve never been kissed before. You didn’t know what to do. But Isagi made up for the lack of experience. His fingers spread apart in the small of your back as his other hand reached and softly cupped your face. He slid the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip and licked his own. You sucked in a breath. This moment all hands and shared breaths. “I don't…. Know what to do with my hands.” You whisper in the small dwindling space between your lips. He pauses, a hair's breadth away from your lips and you almost regret talking and pausing the moment. But he pulls back just a bit and he guides your cold hands with his warm hands up towards his neck. 

“Wrap your arms around me.” He speaks and his breath ghosts over your lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and he ducks down slightly, his hands slide over your hips as he doesn’t waste another second dipping his head and meeting your lips with his own. It’s a soft press at first. But that desperate hunger takes over and you're kissing as though he’d just arrived back from world war one. He’s pulling you impossibly closer; he's kissing you with a fervent need that makes you weak in the knees. He’s backing you up until the backs of your legs bump into his car and then he’s pulling you up and placing you on the hood of his car so the kiss isn’t interrupted for even a single moment. You shiver at the heightened moment, your skin hot beneath his warm jacket. “This means I have a chance, right?” He asks against your lips, eliciting a laugh as he kisses and kisses you again and again. “God… I have to get you inside.” He groans against your lips and you know he’s saying that because you're shivering from the cold. You miss the warmth of his kisses when he pulls back and pulls you from the hood of his car. “Come on.” He guides you to the front door. You fish your keys out and pause, turning back towards him. 

“You have a chance. If that wasn’t completely obvious.” You say and Isagi’s serious face softens. His hands are on you again, he’s pulling you in and you decide if thoughts of love make you spiral you’ll let this be something else. 

[harringtonstilinski]

The Alchemy Pt2 - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 3,793 Warnings: fluff, micro angst Requested: no | yes; i'm saying yes on this 'cause y'all wanted a pt2, lol Smut: no | yes; oral (m+f receiving), protected piv (m+f), A/N: Hi, friends! Here's Pt2! For the schmutty scene, I grabbed some descriptive words/scenes (can't think of the word i'm looking for, lol) that I've read in books. Let me know what you thought! If you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

eddie munson playlist

FIVE AND A HALF MONTHS LATER

The past five and a half months that you and Eddie have been together has been nothing short of amazing. He treats you better than Steve ever did, takes you out on dates more than Steve did, and even does things that you want to do or talk to you about things you seem interested in.

Of course, you do all that right back for Eddie, as well. You sit and listen to him read off the newest campaign he’d written for Hellfire, you listen intently to him ramble on about new things he’s interested in, and you even try new things that he seems interested in.

You look at Eddie like he’s the most gorgeous person on the planet, and he looks at you the same exact way. The love you two have for each other grows by the second. You can’t even think about the classwork in front of you because that metal loving boy of yours infiltrates your mind.

“Hey,” you heard someone whisper. Looking around, your eyes caught Steve’s next to you. “Pay attention or else you’re gonna get called on.”

“Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. O’Donnell said. “Care to share what you’re speaking about with the rest of class?”

Steve looked at Mrs. O’Donnell, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. As he stammered, you rolled your eyes, and raised your hand and said, “Mrs. O’Donnell, he was just reminding me about picking my brother up after school.”

“NIce to see you two getting along. Now, please, a little less talking, a little more paying attention.”

You and Steve said yes ma’am at the same time before going back to your respective notes. When you began doodling again, you looked up at seeing a face in the window of the door, an instant smile blooming on your lips. Looking at the clock, you sighed. “Five more minutes,” you mouthed, not wanting to get in trouble my Mrs. O’Donnell.

The person that ended up getting into trouble was, in fact, Eddie.

“Eddie Munson,” she sighed. When she opened the door, Eddie stepped in a couple of steps. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, you know,” Eddie said, leaning his shoulder against the wall near him. “Just walking around during my free period. Thought I’d come by and see my lady.” He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, giving you a smirk. 

Covering your face with one of your hands, you looked down at your desk, whispering, “Oh, my god,” before hearing everyone in the room chuckle at your embarrassment.

Yes, Eddie embarrassed you a lot, and you let him know every afternoon when you showed up at his house. Did you embarrass Eddie? Hell no, only because nothing really embarrasses Eddie, but you’ve thought about it once or twice.

Before you could actually fall from your desk and die right on the spot, the bell rang and you sighed a breath of relief, but as you gathered your stuff, you heard Steve whisper your name. “Hmm?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Can we talk?” he asked, looking a little… dejected? What could he be feeling sad about?

“Uhh, sure,” you said. “Just let me put my stuff in Eddie’s van and then I’ll meet you at your car?”

“Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d just meet me there first.”

“Oh.” You furrowed your brows just the slightest. “Yeah. Let me, uhm… let me tell Eddie what’s going on.”

Steve nodded before standing from his desk, notebook and pencil in hand, to walk out of the room. You followed after a moment and a head shake later, finding Eddie waiting for you at your locker.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled.

Chuckling, you twisted the lock on your locker to the correct numbers as you responded, “Okay. Keep that nickname for your guitar,” you said, placing your school belongings into their homes. Closing the door, you looked at Eddie with all the love and affection you could muster. “I think I’ll stick with the nickname you unknowingly gave me.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

Wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck, you didn’t care that you had a small audience, and by audience; almost the whole of Hellfire. “Love. Baby. Babe. My love.” Placing your lips on his, you sighed, waiting to do this all day.

Sure, the two of you kissed, but it wasn’t sweet like the one you were currently sharing. The ones you’d shared during the day were more chaste; short and sweet. Not sweet; long and unmoving.

At the sounds of all the kissy sounds and ooh’s and aah’s coming from the rest of the group, you split apart and turned your heads to face your friends, Eddie’s voice cutting through to say, “Okay, you’re all dead in the next campaign.”

When the group went quiet, you could see the horror in their eyes; they’d spent weeks building up their characters' healths and stats. They didn’t want to die within a couple of rolls of the dice. 

Looking up at Eddie, you ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ll meet you at the van in a few minutes.”

“Why, what’s up?” Eddie asked, placing one of his hands on your cheek. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, it’s just…” You paused for a moment, trying to put together the right words in the right order. “Uhm, Steve’s asked me to meet him at his car so we can talk. I’m not sure what he wants to talk about, though.”

Dropping his hand to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, all Eddie could do was look into your eyes. “You’re not…-”

“Oh, god, no!” you exclaimed. “I’m not taking him back. You have nothing to worry about. I love you.”

Softly smiling and bringing his hand to tuck a strand piece of hair behind your ear, Eddie continued to look at you. “Okay, sweetheart. And for the record; I love you, too.”

Smiling at your amazing boyfriend, you rose up to your tiptoes, placing a kiss to his lips. “You better or else I’m gonna expose your newest campaign to Hellfire and have them kick your sorry little ass.”

Placing a hand over his heart, Eddie feigned hurt. “You wouldn’t.”

As you place your heels back on the ground, your smile never faltering, you respond, “Yes, I would. Now, march your hot ass to your van, blast your favorite tape at the moment, and wait patiently for me, okay?”

“Okay, princess,” Eddie replied, cupping your cheek. He placed a sweet kiss to your lips before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, all but dragging you out of the school and to the parking lot. 

When you saw Steve looking down as he was leaning against his car, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad for him. I wonder what’s gotten him so down, you thought to yourself. Looking back up at Eddie, you kissed him before telling him you’d meet him at his van before walking over to Steve.

“Steve?”

The King himself looked up at you before quickly wiping at his eyes. Ever the comforting person that you are, you set your stuff down on the hood of his car and quickly made your way over to him, the both of you wrapping your arms around each other.

You let him silently cry on your shoulder for a few minutes before quietly asking, “What happened?”

Picking his head up, Steve whispered, “Nancy broke up with me. Turns out, she was cheating on me with Jonathan the last six weeks.”

“Oh, shit, Steve. I’m so sorry.” As his eyes met yours, you could see the question swirling within them. “Steve-”

“No, I know your answer, and I don’t expect you to dump Eddie to come back to me. I mean, I do want you to come back to me, but… as a friend, not a girlfriend. I miss you… a-as a friend.”

“Steve, it’s okay if you miss me like that, too. It’s just… I love Eddie, and honestly, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with him. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy with you, too, but… there’s certain things that Eddie does that’s… different from you.”

“How’s he treating you?”

“I think you know that answer,” you chuckled.

The smallest of smiles appeared on his lips before he responded, “Like a princess.”

“Exactly.”

It was quiet between the two of you for about a minute before Steve said, “The way I should’ve treated you.”

“Steve-”

“No, let me get this out,” he said. “You’re an amazing girl, and I should’ve treated you a lot better than what I did right there at the end.”

“Your jealousy is what ended our relationship, Steve. You got super fucking jealous that I was trying to make time to spend with Eddie. I mean, you were hanging out with all your basketball friends, as well as Tommy H. and Carol. You never let me have free time to spend with my friends.”

Nodding along to your words, he agreed. “Yeah. I was a pretty big asshole, wasn’t I?” He chuckled at the end of his statement.

“You were. But I know that you can get back to the Steve that I fell in love with.”

Smirking at you, Steve said, “Thanks. For being there for me.”

“Steve, I’m still your friend, and I’ll always be here for you.” Giving him a hug, you welcomed the embrace you gave to him, feeling his arms going around your middle. Pulling away, you said, “I have to go. If you need anything, just call my line. You know my number.”

“Thanks,” Steve said again before getting into his car, watching you walk to Eddie’s van.

Once you got close enough, Eddie slid out from his seat to catch you as you jumped into his arms. He spun you around a couple of times before stopping to just hold you for a moment. Looking out over at Steve, he gave a curt nod, your ex-boyfriend giving one back before he drove away.

Setting you back down on your feet, Eddie’s hands rested on your waist as he looked you into your perfectly colored eyes. “How was your talk?”

“It was… good,” you said, a small smile creeping up on your face. “He just needed someone to be there for him.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Eddie asked, “What happened?”

“Uhm,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Nancy’s been cheating on him with Jonathan for the last two months. He also wanted us to be friends again, and came to the realization that he didn’t treat me the way you do. I told him I’d always be there for him ‘cause, ya’know… that’s just how I am.”

“And that’s what I love about you.”

You hummed, looking up at your loving boyfriend. “I’m starving. Wanna go to Benny’s? I got cash!”

“Where’d you get it?” Eddie asked, walking you around to the passenger seat, which Eddie has dubbed as your seat.

“Told my mom that I’d be home late, so she gave me cash.”

“What about your brother?”

Shrugging, you replied, “He has A/V Club today, so he’ll probably go to Mike’s house afterward and play some D&D.”

“Wait. He plays?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, nodding. “He loves it. He and his friends play in the basement of the Wheeler’s house. I think one of their campaigns lasted ten hours!”

“Holy shit. Sounds like one hell of a campaign,” Eddie smiled. “I would love to play with him and his friends one day.”

“You might!” you happily exclaimed. “I’ve been telling them about Hellfire, and of course the end of the year party last year was at our house, and he was telling me when you guys left that night that he wanted to be a part of Hellfire when he got into High School.”

“And he will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Chuckling, you replied, “Eddie, you’re gonna graduate by then.”

He shrugged. “You never know. Especially with Mrs. O’Donnell.” The roll of his eyes and snarl of his lip make your chuckle turn into a full blown laugh. Eddie smiled, himself, at seeing the happiness on your face. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, he said, “How about this; how about we go to the video store, pick out your favorite movie - yes, it can be a Disney movie - and then we’ll go home and watch it while snuggling up on the couch. What do you say?”

“Hmmm, I say that’s perfect,” you said, softly before placing your lips sweetly upon his.

~~~

What ended up with you and Eddie watching a sweet innocent movie turned into a full blown make-out session right there on the couch. You both were thanking your lucky stars that Wayne was already at work. 

You were straddling his lap, sitting up as straight as you could with Eddie’s hands splayed out on your back, your tongues and lips moving together in sync. His lips moved from your own to your cheek down to your jaw and then finally landed on your neck, where he worked your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. “I love it when you do that.”

Unlatched his lips from your neck, he looked you in the eyes and said, “I love that I get to do this to you.”

Smiling, you brought your hands back to his cheeks, gently cupping them before replying, “I love that you love that you get to do that to me,” before kissing his lips once more.

Feeling Eddie’s slip under your shirt and up to your bra had you stilling for a moment, pulling back a little to look into Eddie’s eyes. The two of you hadn’t had sex yet, but he’d played with your nipples, and that’s as far as you would let him go. 

You wanted to have sex with Eddie, and he you, but neither of you voiced your thoughts on the subject. You thought that your make-out sessions and  it would just happen one day while the two of you were alone. Eddie wanted to have a conversation with you about it first because he didn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage of you.

Swallowing your nerves, you breathed a quiet, shuddering breath. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“Are we about to, uhm…”

Playing the hair by your ear before gently cupping your jaw, Eddie whispered, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. Okay? There’s no pressure.”

“No, no, I-I… I want to.” Trailing your fingertips over his bottom lip, you watched as you did, thinking about your next words before saying them, something your grandma had taught you in your youth. “I’ve been wanting to, but I was just gonna let nature take its course with it. Like, I wasn’t gonna stop you or anything.”

Lightly chuckling, Eddie replied, “Well, I was wanting to talk to you about it first, but since you’re just wanting nature to take its course with us having sex, I’m not opposed to it,” before kissing you, passionately.

Feeling Eddie standing from the couch, you wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands went to your ass to keep you from falling as your lips went to town on his neck.

Next thing you knew, you heard a door shut before your back met the mattress. You looked up at Eddie, seeing nothing but love and warmth and lust and passion and all the other words that describe the word “love”.

Softly smiling, you brought your hands up to cheeks, softly cupping them as your thumbs gently rubbed across his skin. After a few seconds, you breathed, “Have I told you recently that I love you?”

Eddie quietly chuckled, looking down at a random spot on your shirt. He loved hearing those words fall from your lips. “Everyday for three months, my love.” Lowering himself to his forearms to not crush you, he added, “I hope I get to hear it everyday for the rest of my life.”

“Rest assured, Edward Wayne, you will.” Running your fingers through his curly locks, you kept the smile that he permanently put on your lips. “Now, make love to me, Eddie.  I want to feel all of you.”

Before you could even lift your head to press your lips to his, Eddie leaned his down and gently placed his lips on yours. Your lips moved in a sweet, slow, and loving sync while shedding each other’s shirts and your bra, but before either of you could shed from the waist down, Eddie leaned back on his legs and reached up to remove the guitar pick necklace he wore.

When he grabbed your hands to sit you up, you  tried to protest, but Eddie being Eddie, he didn’t want to hear whatever it was you were about to say. “No. I want you to wear this. It was my first pick that I ever received.”

“Eddie, I-”

“Baby, you mean the world to me, and I would love nothing more than to see your beautiful naked ass wearing nothing but this,” he continued, holding the chain by the ends in between the two of you. “I love you. You mean everything to me.”

With tears in your eyes, you moved your hair from your neck to over your shoulder just  before Eddie leaned forward to place the necklace around your neck, fastening it  in place.

“There,” he whispered. “It looks better on you anyway.”

You couldn’t help the emotion that was washing over you.  “Kiss me, you fool.”

Laughing, Eddie placed his lips on yours once again, laying you back down. Neither of you knew how much time had passed before he placed his forehead on yours, lightly panting from the makeout sessions you two just had.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Are we gonna have sex now?”

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Eddie looked at you while his hand trailed down  your sternum and belly to the button on your jeans. “Yes, baby. We’re going to have sex now.”

Popping the button of your jeans, Eddie leaned back up to unzip them before pulling material, as well as your underwear, down your legs, dropping them to the floor beside him. You reached forward, popping the button on his jeans as well before sliding his zipper down.

Getting off the bed, Eddie removed his jeans and boxers, his hard cock standing at attention. Smirking while reaching into his nightstand for a condom, he asked, “Like what you see, love?”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” you said, sliding off the bed to kneel in front of him. Without another word, you grabbed his cock while looking into his eyes before dragging your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the prominent vein pulse.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Eddie breathed. “You gonna take my cock in your mouth?”

Not giving an answer, you took him into your mouth, closing your eyes and letting out a soft moan before bobbing your head. Sure, you’d given blowjobs before but none that you enjoyed. Even though this is your first time giving Eddie one, you were actually enjoying it… and so was Eddie.

You’ve told him stories about your hair being grabbed, or the guy facefucking you when you asked him not to do it. So, as Eddie watches you do your thing, he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Grabbing at his own hair, he leaned his head, letting out a soft, guttural “Ffffuuuuuuuucccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk,” and before he could bust his load down your throat, he reached down and tapped your cheek. “Stand up, my love.”

Standing, you looked confused, inwardly telling yourself that you already fucked up.

At seeing the look on your face, Eddie cupped your cheeks, a soft smile on his face. “If I didn’t stop you, I would’ve come down your throat. I want to be inside your pussy when I do that.”

“Well, I guess you better get to it then,” you said, smiling cheekily.

“Oh, I will. But, first, I gotta taste you.” 

Before you knew it, while giggling,  your back met the mattress again, your legs spreading before a gasp left your lips at the feeling of Eddie’s tongue on your aching cunt. “Fuck, Eddie. Holy shit.” Your brain was going a million miles an hour as Eddie lapped and sucked and kissed your core. “Oh,my–” Your words were cut off as your release hit you out of nowhere.

As Eddie kissed his way back up your stomach to  your lips, all he could do was smile, and as he kissed you, you could feel it on your lips, as well as taste yourself on your tongue. “How was that?” he asked, that smile ever present on his face.

“Fucking amazing,” you breathed. “Now, stick that cock inside me and make me come again.”

Without missing a beat, Eddie looked at the foil package in his hands, tearing it open before rolling the condom down his length. Looking down at his length, Eddie grabbed it, guiding it to your entrance, pressing the tip of his cock gently into you as he looked into your eyes. Once you gave him a nod of approval, he guided his cock inside of you, both of you groaning at the feeling of each other.

“Damn, baby,” Eddie gritted out, trying to keep his breathing in check. “You feel fucking amazing.”

“Oh, my– fuck!” You couldn’t concentrate on anything let alone form words as his cock pounded into you, your back arching the slightest bit. “That’s it, Eddie-” Moan. “Just like that. Don’t stop, baby.”

Eddie could feel sweat start to form on his brow, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours. “Fuck, baby, I don’t think-” Moan. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He could feel his balls start to tighten, his impending orgasm creeping up on him. “Yeah, I won’t last much longer.”

“Keep going,”  you breathed. “I’m almost there, I’m almost–” Your own orgasm cut off  your words, your walls tightening on Eddie’s cock as he rocked his hips one, two, three more times before his own orgasm hit.

While the two of you were coming down from your highs, the only things you heard and felt were both of your heavy breathing and Eddie’s lip on your shoulder before feeling his forehead rest on yours.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered.

As you opened your eyes, a soft smile danced on your lips, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks ever so gently before replying with your own whispered words, “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! i'm so so sorry this took forever to get out. writer' block hit me like a brick! plus, i've been reading books like crazy, and i've gone in and out of depression episode. thanks for sticking around! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i'm trying to add the character masterlists and playlists onto all my one-shots from here on out! let me know if it makes it easier for y'all to back and choose!

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on November 21, 2024

[kvetchlandia]

Sam Falk Art Carney (Felix) and Walter Matthau (Oscar) Backstage When They Were Starring in the Original Broadway Production of Neil Simon's "The Odd Couple," the Plymouth Theater, W. 45th Street, Broadway, New York City 1965

Oscar Madison: I can't take it anymore, Felix, I'm cracking up. Everything you do irritates me. And when you're not here, the things I know you're gonna do when you come in irritate me. You leave me little notes on my pillow. Told you 158 times I can't stand little notes on my pillow. "We're all out of cornflakes. F.U." Took me three hours to figure out F.U. was Felix Ungar!

[lebensmudewing]

Those things look extreme to you because of these times, nothing less. I'm two generations away from being forced to marry a much older man by my own dad, and I'm not even from a muslim country. Those examples like a couple of decades away were just daily stuff. For me there is nothing extreme on men thinking that women are objects that can be traded for land, but I get that you see it that way because of your privilege. For me it's just family history.

And women don't have rights, they just lost their right over their own bodies in one of the most advanced countries in the world. And in my country that is not up to debate, it is assumed by default that a fetus has more value than an adult woman.

I just said that women's rights are constantly subjected to doubt, and women losing abortion rights is proof of that. Then, they will start discussing if women should vote or not, just like thousands of dudes are saying on social media right now. Oh, but I know already that public opinion and online trends don't mean shit to you, even when it has been demonstrated that social media does influence on politics.

Ok, if I say, women wear make up, or bears are big, or summer is hot, then you assume that I'm saying that every single day of the summer is hot and there is not even a single day that is cool. Well, I live in real life and I'm not a toddler so I understand that words don't work like that.

How it doesn't apply to the male sex if every single damn civilization, culture and hunter gatherer group has male supremacists practices and beliefs? The ignorance here is astounding. The bare fact that the thought that men and women are equal is still seen as progressive should tell you something.

Note: notice how it is said that "if they were, women wouldn't have rights" and how in my first reply I just named a country where effectively women don't have rights because men think they are superior, but it is being discarded as "an extreme example". You can't make this shit up.

what baffles me is that he doesn't even realise how stupid his point is when talking about white supremacy. yes, we are all socialised under white supremacy. but some of us are socialised as the supreme, and others are socialised as the inferior. or is he really arguing that there is no substancial difference in growing up white vs. growing up Black??

yes, we are all socialised under patriarchy. BUT YOU WERE SOCIALISED AS THE PATRIARCH omg are you really that stupid or are you pretending

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 5 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : idc abt the word count anymore lmao. i will accept my fate that i could never get those number word counts lmfaoo. the drama is startinggg- oh hasn't it already began?

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt. not proofread

series masterlist

again?

Jungkook's head pounded as he groggily sat up. He rubbed his temples, wincing at the dull ache. Glancing to the side, he noticed a glass of water and a couple of painkillers on the bedside table. Next to them was a note, its familiar handwriting tugging at his heartstrings.

"You should stop drinking and driving fast at midnight. It's bad for your liver and dangerous."

The note was pinned to a picture frame of the two of you, smiling. He traced his fingers over the image, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips.

it wasn't just a note. it was you. It was your concern, your voice, your heart. Even now, after everything. At least you were here, even if only for a moment.

He closed his eyes, letting the ache of longing settle in his chest. This—these fleeting moments—were all he could hold onto now.

Reaching for his phone, Jungkook unlocked it, scrolling through social media out of habit. His thumb stopped dead on the screen as a picture appeared: you and Yoongi, cuddled together on a couch. Your head rested on Yoongi's shoulder, his hand gently tangled in your hair as he smiled down at you. The caption was simple but cut deeper than any knife: "Home."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, biting his lip to stifle the wave of emotion surging within him. His fingers trembled as he stared at the photo, regret burning in his chest. That could've been him. No—it should've been him.

If only he had stayed.

But he hadn't. He had his reasons, though none of them felt valid now. He had convinced himself that leaving was the right thing to do. He hated the gnawing insecurity that whispered he'd never be enough for you, that you deserved more than the flawed, broken man he was. He thought he was doing you a favor by walking away, promising himself he'd come back when he was better, stronger—when he was perfect.

But perfection never came. Time passed, and so did his chances. Now, he was left with nothing but the crushing realization that he had only sabotaged himself. You had moved on, found someone who could give you the love and stability he always struggled to provide.

He let out a bitter laugh, though it carried no humor. He was too late.

Running a hand through his hair, he leaned back against the headboard, the phone slipping from his grip onto the bed. His mind was a storm of regrets and what-ifs, but none of them could change the reality staring back at him.

Jungkook's eyes drifted back to the note, his heart aching with a mixture of longing and acceptance. He'd lost you, but at least you were happy. That's all he had ever wanted for you, even if it meant watching from the sidelines as someone else gave you the love he couldn't.

But it didn't make it hurt any less. 

Jungkook stood up abruptly, his movements shaky yet determined. His eyes, red from tears and alcohol, found yours in the dim light. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace was warm yet suffocating, filled with desperation.

"Kook- what are you doing?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible against his chest.

"Let me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Just... let me hold you. For the last time."

His words hit you like a freight train. The 'last time' echoed in your mind, twisting something deep inside you. Hesitantly, you raised your arms, almost letting them encircle him, but before you could decide, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment.

The vibration was loud, intrusive, and it broke the fragile bubble you and Jungkook had found yourselves in. You gently pushed against his chest, creating some distance.

"Wait," you mumbled, reaching for your phone. The screen lit up with Yoongi's name. Your heart sank further into the storm of emotions swirling within you.

"Hey, Y/N," Yoongi's familiar, comforting voice came through the line. "Where are you? It's getting late."

"Oh, um..." you stammered, your mind racing for an answer. "I'm at a restaurant right now, eating," you lied, hoping it didn't sound as strained as it felt.

"Really? Are you okay? You sound... different," he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You stole a glance at Jungkook, who was watching you closely, his gaze unreadable but intense. His jaw tightened at the mention of Yoongi's name, but he didn't say a word.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, forcing a nervous laugh. "I'm just tired. I'll, uh, see you soon, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Yoongi pressed, his worry evident.

"I'm sure," you said quickly. "I'll call you later. Gotta go!" Without waiting for his response, you ended the call, shoving your phone back into your pocket.

Jungkook took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching for yours. "Stay," he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. "i don't understand-"

You looked at him, your throat tightening. His expression was unlike anything you'd seen before—hopeful yet broken, desperate yet resigned.

"Kook..." you began, but you couldn't bring yourself to finish.

"Just this once," he said, his voice trembling. "Stay with me."

Your heart ached at the sight of him, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't let yourself fall back into the same cycle of heartbreak and pain.

"I'm sorry," you said softly, tears pricking your eyes. Gently, you pulled your hand from his and took a step back.

Jungkook's head bowing as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He didn't try to stop you this time. He just stood there, watching as you walked away.

As soon as you were out of sight, the tears you'd been holding back spilled over. You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs. You hated how much he still affected you, even after everything 

The Next Day

You run your hands through your hair as you waited in the sleek conference room. Today’s meeting was important. a potential collaboration with influential figures in the industry. Securing this deal would not only benefit your company but also solidify your position as a force to be reckoned with in the business world.

You twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly, your mind wandering to the memories of last night. The image of Jungkook’s tear-filled eyes and his broken voice pleading for you to stay was still fresh. Shaking your head, you focused on the present.

The first three representatives had already arrived, exchanging polite greetings and idle chatter as they settled into their seats. You greeted them with a warm smile, but a glance at your watch told you the meeting was running late.

“Where are the last two?” you muttered under your breath, turning to your assistant, who stood nearby.

“I apologize, ma’am,” they whispered. “I wasn’t informed there would be five guests instead of three until this morning.”

You sighed but nodded, waving them off. It wasn’t ideal, but you would manage.

The door opened, and your heart instantly lifted when you saw Yoongi walk in, dressed sharply in a tailored suit. his eyes meets yours, he gave you a subtle smile that sent a wave of reassurance through you..

Behind him came another man. one that made your breath hitch.

Jungkook.

He strode into the room, his black dress shirt perfectly fitted, his expression unreadable, like nothing ever happened last night. His gaze swept across the room until it landed on you.

Your smile faltered, your lips parting slightly in shock as you stared at him. It was like the air had been sucked out of you.

He met your gaze briefly before looking away. He took the seat across from you, and it felt like all eyes were on you now.

Yoongi sat beside him, his expression neutral, though you noticed his jaw tighten for a moment. He glanced at you, his subtle nod urging you to refocus.

Clearing your throat, you forced a polite smile and looked at the group. “O-Okay. Let’s start, shall we?”

You gestured toward your assistant, who quickly connected the presentation slides.

The meeting room had finally emptied, leaving only you and Yoongi. As he adjusted his watch, he turned to you with a slightly apologetic smile.

“I’ve got to rush- urgent family dinner,” he explained, his tone regretful.

You nodded, understanding. “Okay! Tell them I said hi,” you replied with a genuine grin, waving as he turned to leave.

He raised a hand in acknowledgment without looking back, his quick steps taking him out of the building.

You gathered your things and began walking toward the elevator. As you rounded a corner, lost in thought, your heel caught on the edge of the carpet. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled forward, bracing for the hard impact of the floor.

But it never came.

Strong arms caught you mid-fall, steadying you. The familiar scent hit you before the voice did.

“You should be more careful, y’know?”

Your heart stopped.

The world seemed to freeze as your eyes darted upward, meeting the face you thought you’d left behind in your mind.

Jungkook.

The murmur of workers broke the moment.

“Isn’t that Ms. Kim and Mr. Jeon?” “Didn’t they break up?” “Are they back together?”

You glanced around, spotting several employees discreetly snapping pictures and whispering amongst themselves. The realization made your blood boil.

Quickly, you pulled away from Jungkook’s grasp, straightening your outfit as you shot him a glare.

His lips curled into an infuriating smirk. “No ‘thank you’?” he teased, his tone as casual as ever.

You rolled your eyes, your irritation boiling over. “Thank you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and walked away, your pace hurried as you headed toward the nearest restroom. 

aglist : @crazyovayou @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309 @kpopsmutty69 @junecat18 @primadonnasdream @minimoniminimoni @7lilacpetals @vonvi-blog @jk97bam @kissyfacekoo @baechugff @chuberry22 @nerdycheol @etaernaluvv @kooloveys comment if you wanna join

[ofmdrecaps]

11/19-20/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; David Fane; Samba Schutte; Megan Vertelle; Lindsey Cantrell; Damien Gerard; Dominic Burgess; Hugo Pierre Martin; ShopStands Black Friday Sale; Articles; Fan Spotlight: OFMD means Frames hosted by Ram & Tsutsuya!; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika Gifs.

Hey crew! I wanted to add a bit more but I'm already late and we've got a couple things coming down to the wire! If you wanna get in on the Auntie's Tiny Boats raffle being hosted by @ofmd-buys-boats's raffles you can until 23:59 Thursday 21st November 2024 (GMT) (WHICH IS TONIGHT)! That's not far away! Be sure to submit your entries!

= Rhys Darby =

The gigs just won't stop! Next up is Christchurch AoNZ! Christchurch Tickets

Source: Rhys' Instagram Stories

Rhys is also going to be at The Bell House, Brooklyn NY on Feb 22, and Feb 23! Get tickets at TheBellHouseNY.com

Source: Instagram

Australia Dates are also up! Get tickets at his website! PW: ROBOT for priority.

Rhys is going to be at the London on the 22nd for The Republic of Pirates with Vico, Con, Nathan, and Kristian!

Source: Rhys Darby's Bsky

And if there wasn't enough going on with Rhys:

Also, Final Fantasy XIV won a Clio for Best use of Influencer and Talent -- and by that they obviously mean Rhys!

Source: We Are Royale Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika is super excited about the Moana 2 Maori screening, he's sending out a PSA that you can help sponsor one to help others experience the wonderful Maori language!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Taika Waititi (@taikawaititi)

Wanna sponsor a screening of Moana 2 in Maori?

Visit watewamedia.nz

Source: Taika Waititi's Instagram

= David Fane =

Just a quick promo video with David Fane and the rest of the Moana 2 crew!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Walt Disney Animation Studios (@disneyanimation)

Source: DisneyAnimation Instagram

= Samba Schutte =

Samba and Damien's new game Call of Duty Black Ops 6 is up for Best Action Game at TheGameAwards! If you've played and would like to give it some love, you can vote for the game amongst others at TheGameAwards.com. (Note: You do need to sign up for an account to vote).

There are still hand signed pictures of Roach available at ShopStands! Get some cool merch and support charities here!

Samba also sent a little reminder to keep that scurvy away with an immoderate use of citrus!

Source: Samba's Instagram

= Megan Vertelle =

One of our fabulous set decorators -- Megan Vertelle was kind enough to help support the @ofmd-buys-boats charity raffle and send us some BTS for Zheng's ship as well!

Source: Megan Vertelle's Instagram

= Lindsey Cantrell =

Our dear Lindsey, who CREATED the tiny boats that are being raffled off in @ofmd-buys-boats's raffle is reminding you that entries end at 23:59 Thursday 21st November 2024 (GMT)! That's not far away! Be sure to submit your entries!

Source: Lindsey Cantrells Instagram Stories

= Damien Gerard =

Our dear Father Teach could use a pick me up, if you have a bsky account and a few spare minutes, would you be so kind as to send him some love? Quotes-- music, photos, anything that brings you joy <3

Source: Damien's Bsky

= Dominic Burgess =

The countdown is on! Our wonderful Jeffrey Fettering will be adding his talents to the new Skeleton Crew show!

Source: Dominic's Bsky

= Hugo Pierre Martin =

Our favorite valet from s1, Hugo Pierre Martin is calling out for some art submissions for his spotify series! "The next season of the audioseries will be called "The Seventh Son." The series will have icons for every episode and I'd like it to be some variation on this ancient symbol: The Oroboros. It can be: - A snake biting its own tail - A dragon biting its own tail - A blue Bunny dragon biting its own tail" Interesting in submitting something/checking out the submissions? Check out his Instagram!

Source: HPM's Instagram

== Stands Black Friday Sale ==

There's still OFMD merch available at shopstands! If you were thinking of picking some of these up this is a great time -- and it's for a good cause!

Source: ShopStands

== Articles ==

More articles about our favorite show, and our Captain talking about his new tour! Thanks so much to @adoptourcrew fand @ofmooshd for keeping us appraised!

Source: Moosh on Twitter

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Our Flag Means Frames - Moonlight Scene =

There's a new frames project hosted by Ram and @tsutsuya on Bsky! Here is the link to the full thread. The deadline will be the 31st of Janurary 2025! -- and you can sign up here! It looks like they've already shared so many frames that there are just some hand frames left so get in while you can!

Contact info:

Email: youwearfineframeswell@gmail.com

@tsutsuya.bsky.social

@panodtortur.bsky.social

Source: Ram's Bsky

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies! There are two things in this issue that are time sensitive and I'm running late as it is so I'm gonna make this short today! You're halfway through the work week if you work weekdays-- you are almost there crew! You can make it! <3 Sending some love notes from others for today <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

Source: NewHappyCo Instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

Source: New Happy Co Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I just have to re-share this look they give each other today. Today's gif courtesy of the lovely @captain-flint!