#but this one... well i guess the votes will decide

[ashyjingles]

ok wait so i'm writing a fic and i decided to do a little bit of my own world building for it and part of it was ages!! this is all from memory so apologies if it sounds rambly or disorganized lol

in canon dwarves can/will start fighting as young as 30. dain ironfoot lost his leg in the books after being the one to kill azog at 35. granted, this was a notably remarkable feat for his age, so i take him to be the age of a young boy, like 14/16 or around that age to reflect men putting teenagers into battle in times of desperation

also in canon gimli wasn't allowed to go on the quest to erebor because he was too young at his 62 years of age (i think) despite some other company members being not much older, such as kili and ori who were in their 70s (i believe kili was 77, but there's no set canon age for ori, though in the movies he was marketed as the youngest.)

dwarves typically live 200-300 years, though i think durin's direct line (ie those eligible for the throne) tend to live longer, having received durin's long life (who lived so long he was called durin the deathless). in canon dwalin lived to be 340 which was notably long for a dwarf, though he was part of durin's line and was a close cousin of thorin's. i believe he passed in the war of the ring as well, so there was a potential for him to live longer.

given all of this, it's clearly incredibly iffy regarding what their aging frame is compared to humans. some people have whole ass equations for it, some just guesstimate that dwarven aging takes about 3x as long as humans. i decided to incorporate this confusion into my aging system lol

dwarves clearly hold beard and hair length in high regard. i am basing my lifeline frame on the idea that dwarves, like humans, are born beardless and grow their beards at a much later date. obviously, when one's beard starts growing is heavily varied between person to person, and i'm assuming this applies to dwarves as well. the average dwarven beard comes to full "maturity" around dwarves' 60s or 70s, though can start growing much earlier or later.

a lot of people (as reflected by the polls current state at the time of writing) say the age of majority is usually 60 or 70. while i voted yes on the poll, i go with its actually both lol. have i rambled enough that you can guess why? probably.

a dwarf before the age of 60 is technically still considered below the age of majority regardless of beard length, though society typically treats those with longer beards with more respect and for young dwarves, this means like an adult dwarf.

a dwarfling transitions into an adult dwarf in those years between 60-70. once your beard is full enough, most people consider a dwarf to be an adult. some dwarves (like, say, kili in the movies) take a much longer time to grow their beards and thus reach the age of majority/maturity.

once a dwarf hits 70, they can pledge adulthood regardless of beard length. not all do, but it's typically socially frowned upon to not. once a dwarf hits 80 they're usually considered an adult regardless of beard length and whether or not they've declared adulthood.

TLDR 60 is the youngest dwarves reach the age of majority and most reach it by 70 depending on when their beard fully grows in.

feel free to add any commentary or critiques to this lol!! i have no idea if this makes sense most days and its not particularly cemented quite yet in terms of my fic world building

I recently thought about the coming of age for Dwarves and how every fic writer seems to have a different idea, although most start somewhere around the age of 40 and end somewhere around the age of 100.

It is an interesting question, if you ask me, since it tells you for example, how old in human years Fíli, Kíli and Ori were during the quest, and such.

[thatnerdinthecorner]

@partywithponies

[ruvviks]

this man gets it

[ae-xoshidae]

If you are baffled by Gunwook's position, let me remind you he stayed on top 15 the whole show while being hated by both korean and international fans, being evil edited and his only friends (possible alliances) being his direct competition. That means he wasn't anyone's filler and still kept going up. Some of the other trainees? Fillers, token even. Gunwook was always within the top 9 of every mock korean 1 pick, always on the top of Japanese 1 pick, if you cared for him and saw how his fans were moving, you would know him debuting, specially in top5, was to be expected.

[lesamis]

If you're up for it could you explain what is making the Germany government stuff so funny? I can find news articles about it (a coalition is dissolving? There's been tension for a while?) but they're all fairly serious. Thx!

ohhh, sure thing! i'll do my best!

i'll say upfront: this is a pretty serious thing to happen. our chancellor fired our minister of finance, Lindner, which definitively breaks up the governing coalition. germany will likely have snap elections at a moment in which far-right parties are polling extremely well. if news coverage about it seems like people are Worried, that's because, well, they are.

however. the reason it's funny is because our minister of finance was fired. ministers aren't really... ever fired. like, it's not a done thing. i'll fully admit i didn't even know it was an option until yesterday. and our minister of finance wasn't just anyone, he was one of the most mocked and hated figures in politics to germans who vote anywhere left of center.

the coalition that governed until yesterday was made up of the green party, the social democrats, and the neoliberal party (FDP). the FDP is infamous (and i mean, my parents already raised me to hate them for that) for playing kingmaker in coalition governments: they never get all that many votes, but they get just enough that whoever they agree to form a government with will probably succeed. they then tend to force extreme concessions from their coalition partners, because hey, if we walk off, you can't govern at all! so you better play along!

for the past three years, this behaviour has been extremely frustrating for germans who voted for greens or social democrats, because policy from their faction was constantly being blocked by the FDP and often by Lindner personally. the FDP received 11,5% of votes in 2021, but to many of us, it felt as if they were the only party who really had any say in the governing coalition. it made the green and social democratic coalition partners look spineless and passive.

and now, i invite you to imagine how on the day of the US election results, the day the whole world rolled their eyes at the sheer fucking stupidity and pointlessness of it all, at NINE IN THE EVENING, just as germans are getting ready to settle in to bed to dream of nightmare global politics -

the news suddenly breaks that our notoriously invisible chancellor just decided to fire Lindner for that exact behaviour. this chancellor comes out and says, on camera, to the entire sleepy nation, that acting the way Lindner did - blocking necessary policies, refusing to approve budgets unless his party's interests were met - was childish, selfish, irresponsible, and unfit for government, so, whoops, he had to go. shame. coalition over, i guess.

so, politically, that was a long-needed but never-expected moment of triumph for those of us who think the FDP is a clown show made up of human TESLA shares, and it came at a hysterically funny moment.

on a personal level, i can barely explain how uniquely hateable Lindner has always been. he's what would happen if a stock index graph came to life. he hates poor people with a relish; he mocks welfare recipients and would ax minimum wages in a second. he's everyone's business major roommate who shows up in boat shoes fresh off a yacht to discuss NFTs with you. throughout the entire time that he's used his rich boy policy blackmail strategy, he's been smug about it, and he was never taken to task for it, and millions of germans have been longing to throw rotten fruit in his face since 2017. and now we finally get to do it. via memes. on the day of trump's election win.

so that's why it's funny.

[hedgehog-moss]

I bought a roll of chicken netting to fence off my vegetable garden—which I haven't planted yet because it's been raining every single day for like two months and I didn't want my young tomato plants to rot, but the weather is finally improving. I'll plant my garden next week, and I wanted to trim the grass around it and clear the area of weeds, but then I remembered I have animals that can do this job.

So I opened the pasture in front of the (future) garden. Currently it looks like a long pile of dirt, because that's what it is (well, compost + llama manure + dirt)—but look how long it is! I'm feeling ambitious this year and I have quintupled the length of my initial hügelkultur mound.

You might be surprised to learn that Pirlouit was the first animal who noticed the opening in the fence and got out. It's not actually surprising because Pirou has a fresh grass-dar—but Pampe was very much surprised & vexed.

Everyone looked really happy to have access to this new little area!

Initially I thought I would be able to continue preparing the garden while they were eating, but I quickly realised I was too paranoid for that. I mean, it's Pampe vs. a small temporary fence meant for chickens. Enough said. I didn't dare to turn my back on her even for a minute, so I ended up just sitting in the grass next to them with a book, which was really nice.

Pampe decided to lie down in the grass to eat more comfortably, something Pirlouit still deeply disapproves of.

Poldine however thinks it's a brilliant idea.

Update: all my llamas are now horizontal, eating like three Roman emperors. Only Pirlouit continues to mind his table manners.

Of course this peacefulness couldn't last, and after stuffing herself with new grass for half an hour, Pampe remembered there was also a new fence to think about.

She decided to lie down again 5 centimetres away from it, so she could inspect it and strategise while maintaining a demeanour of relaxed innocence.

I was not relaxed.

You are exhausting.

At 7:30pm I started feeling torn, because I don't like to miss apéritif time but—could I run to the kitchen to get a glass of apéritif and some biscuits and run back before Pampe had time to do anything? (The kitchen is 15 metres away.) (I feel like this detail doesn't change anything and if I inserted a poll here everyone would massively vote "Pampe will have time to escape")

But you would be wrong!! When I returned from my quick and suspenseful dash to the kitchen, guess who was on the verge of doing something illegal...?

PAMPOLDINE. Bad llama!! She was interested in tasting the flowers on the other side and she was pretty bashful when I shooed her away.

I believe the only reason Pampérigouste didn't escape is because she assumed her daughter was about to, so her family's reputation was maintained, she would get to see me run and curse llamakind and straighten the fence grumpily, and she didn't even have to get up.

Which goes to show that she doesn't escape due to a deep and unquenchable thirst for freedom, but to aggravate me personally.

I settled on my ash wood throne to have apéritif, comfortably seated in full view of all the animals—

—so of course Pampe immediately got up and went to inspect the fence on the other end of this little pen, behind the hazel tree that was blocking my line of sight, in the one place that I couldn't see from my seat.

I had to get up to see what she was doing (and angrily wave a stick in her direction until she moved away) and when I returned to my tree stump there was a little insect swimming in my wine. Pampe lay down again, pleased with herself.

When it was dinner time and I kindly invited everyone to return to the pasture (Pirlouit & Pampelune complied without fuss), Pampe suddenly lay completely flat in the grass, in what was clearly an attempt to make herself invisible and be forgotten all by herself in this barely-fenced area, kind of like children who dream of being locked in a toy shop overnight.

I haven't taken my eyes off you all evening. Of course I can see you.

I had to poke her with my stick until she deigned to get up and leave (Poldine followed), but all in all it was a very successful little outing. I might do this regularly throughout the summer to keep the grass trimmed in this area, although the difficulty level will be greatly increased when I have to patrol the fence and protect my vegetables at the same time.

I'll add that when I went out later in the evening to close the chicken coop, Poldine & Pampelune were far away, grazing together under the plum trees, meanwhile Pirlouit and Pampe were still queueing in front of the part of the fence that was previously open. Both waiting for me to let them access this heavenly garden again (but with different motivations)

[starkwlkr]

silver springs | mark webber

thanks to everyone who voted! like my seb fic, this will only have three parts

part 2 part 3

warning: cheating

requests are closed

INSTRAGRAM

liked by sebastianvettel, landonorris and 563,377 others

yourusername congratulations oscarpiastri on your incredible sprint race win! first win in f1, but it won’t be the last!

oscarpiastri ❤️

papayafans481 DESERVED

teampiastri did anyone see the interview with david coulthard and mark webber?😭

leclerctears what happened??

teampiastri david kept bringing up y/n and mark couldn’t even say her name 🥲 he said mclaren team principal when referring to her

lewis8wdc what the fuck happened between them?🤨 i know they dated I’m guessing they ended on bad terms

op81xx girl they were gonna get married 😭 mark had the ring and even asked y/n’s family for their blessing there’s a thread on twitter about them

aussiegrit ❤️

multi21bitch you ain’t slick old man 🤨

view all 34,366 comments

UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX

Lando had scored a podium finish while Oscar had unfortunately suffered a DNF. After the podium ceremony, you were on your way back to the Mclaren garage when you heard a familiar voice. Mark was speaking with Fernando when you had walked by them. It had been years since you were that close to Mark. Of course he was in the Mclaren garage since he was Oscar’s manager, but you were a pro at avoiding Mark Webber.

You kept walking and finally made it to the garage where you congratulated the team for their effort.

“When was the last time she spoke to you?” Fernando questioned the Aussie. He was great friends with both you and Mark. He was one of many that thought you two would end up getting married. He was utterly shocked when Mark had told him that you were no longer together.

“March twenty fifth twenty thirteen. She blocked my number, she told me I couldn’t contact any of her family members either.” He explained. “I fucked up my life, Fernando.”

No one apart from Mark and you knew the reason for the break up.

“What did you do?”

“I hurt her. After Malaysia happened, y/n tried to comfort me, but I pushed her away. I stayed in the paddock late while y/n was already in our hotel room waiting for me, i told her to just go to sleep but she never listens. I was on my way back and I decided to go to a bar and I met a woman there. . . ”

It didn’t take a genius to know what would happen next.

“Shit, Mark.” Fernando mumbled.

“That’s not even the worst part, mate. I came back to our hotel room in the morning and she had her suitcase packed. She was going back home. The woman I was with had texted her from my phone and told her everything.” Mark remembered that night all too well. “She told me she never wanted to see me again . . .”

“Funny how that turned out.”

“But she also told me something else. Her doctor had called her a few days ago and told her she was pregnant. I fucked up my life all because I got mad at the result of a stupid race!”

Like everything else in the paddock, Mark’s words didn’t stay a secret for long. A rumor confirmed true traveled fast.

PRIVATE INSTAGRAM

liked by susie_wolff, clairewilliams_official and 143 others

yourprivate happy birthday, my darling 🎀✨ i look forward to your sidewalk chalk artwork everyday ❤️

susie_wolff she’s getting so big! happy birthday!

yourprivate i’m not ready for her to grow anymore🥹

clairewilliams_official what an artist!❤️

yourprivate my own little picasso ❤️

zbrownceo happy birthday 🎂 i hope she enjoyed all the gifts the team and i sent

yourprivate she loved every single one, thank you!

[spitefullyjewish]

Okay, this is my third time trying to put this into words. I am very upset, hurt, and honestly terrified. I’m about to share a lot about myself, my family, and a very scary situation happening right now, so for my own safety, I won’t provide too many details.

I live in a secondary city in a South American country. The Jewish community here is very small—around 5,000 people total out of over 50 million. In my city, which has over 3 million people, there are only about 300 Jews. We’re literally on the other side of the world from Israel.

We own a family business, a small clothing factory where we make knitted garments. It was founded by my grandmother 48 years ago. My father is the current manager, and both my sister and I work there. We employ around 80 people. We pay fair and legal wages (not the industry standard in my country), and although times are really hard, we’ve never missed a payment, not once in our 48 years in business. My father paused his own salary and hasn’t received a cent since January, and my sister and I both stopped getting paid for three months. But the people who work with us have always received their salaries as they should.

Now, today, September 30th, (just a couple of days before the start of our high holidays and exactly one week before the first anniversary of October 7th) the biggest and most important public university in my city, in conjunction with the syndicate council, invited the Palestinian ambassador to give a conference about the current situation and the war. Well, apparently, it derailed into open antisemitism and ended up as a conference about how Jews are all thieves and scammers. Because, I kid you not, back in the '90s, a huge group of my country’s biggest companies went bankrupt and couldn’t pay their employees what they owed. One out of about 30 of those companies was owned by Jewish people. So, of course, "we Jews are all liars, scammers, and thieves, just like the Israelis—always trying to take what doesn’t belong to us"

So, what conclusion did they reach at this conference about Palestine and the current war happening on the other side of the world? Well, naturally, they decided to target Jewish-owned businesses in my city (which means our factory and two other small businesses in our area) to protest and vandalize, because we’re all thieves and scammers, and Israel is bad and horrible, and everyone in my city needs to be made aware of that. When are they planning to come? October 7th, of course, when else?

The only reason I even know about this is that one of my Jewish friends decided to attend the conference to hear from the Palestinian ambassador and, risking their own safety, stayed to hear the names of the businesses that are going to be targeted.

I'm hurt and scared and I've been trying not to cry since I found out. These are the people on the left, these we were supposed to be my people, I've marched with them, I've worked and voted with them. I don't know what to do? Please, please tell me how are they different from actual Nazis? How is this situation different from any other jew living in Europe in the 1930's? I guess shannah fucking tovah to me, as if last year wasn't a wake up call. I am fucking awake.

[charlotteking23]

Hi, I don't know if you're taking requests, but here's one. Imagine that Bruce somehow ends up becoming a child again and this leaves his children a little desperate for fear of Y/N and Alfred's reaction, and during this time that Bruce stays in his child form one thing becomes very noticeable is that Bruce simply doesn't leave his wife's side (Y/N) and this somehow ends up making the boys, especially Damian, jealous and in the end everything is resolved.

Kisses♡ (by the way, I love your writing and I'm sorry if I'm a little confused, it's because English isn't my first language)

Little Bruce

Bruce Wayne x Y/n (batmom)

"Hey Bruce what does this do?", Here we go again Jason decided to use another machine zapping it accidentally at Bruce. " Jason, Why do you always do this didn't you learn from the age swap machine", Dick scold Jason again.

Dad are you okay, Tim said reaching towards the the oversized clothes that were on the floor. "Hi", A little boy suddenly came out of the clothes and waved.

immediately the boys started screaming and panicking. " oh no, what are Mom and Alfred going to say?", Tim said fearing for their reaction, already imagining it. "That's what you worried about not that he's butt-naked", Jason said covering his eyes, no one should ever see their dad naked.

"It's your fault stupid", Damian said looking shocked at his father being a child. "Okay, everyone calm down one of us has to tell Mom and Alfred so I vote for Jason", Dick said holding Bruce in his arms. Both Damian and Tim were okay with it, "why me?", Jason whined complaining how it wasn't fair but all he got was Are you kidding me looks from his brothers and even little Bruce.

Time skip

"Hey, kids and extra kid- who is that"? Y/n stared at her kids in shock counting them and making sure she wasn't seeing things. Wait a second that child looks like Bruce. " Mom please don't be mad but I accidentally zap Bruce to a little kid", Jason finishes saying in one breath, waiting to see his mother's reaction.

Alfred was so shocked he dropped a teacup, looking at Bruce reminding him of the past. "WHAT!, you all are grounded for 1 month", Y/n said angrily taking little Bruce out of Dick's arms.

The kids started to help more with taking care of little Bruce. But no matter what he didn't leave Y/n side always hugging her or holding her hand. Little Bruce wouldn't even sleep in the spare bedroom instead slept in his and Y/n rooms.

if you asked any of the boys who were upset with this change they would immediately say Damian. Damian was a momma boy who always got along the most with his Ummi.

"Ummi, Little dad/Bruce is staring at me with hatred, I request we should kick him out", Damian said glaring back at the little boy. "Dami, we can't do that, he's just a little boy and your father", Y/n said protesting giving little Bruce a hug.

"Mom, it's kinda weird to call a little kid my father", Jason looking at little Bruce making funny faces at him and making him laugh. One thing for sure little Bruce was much happier than adult Bruce. "I guess you're right, it is kinda weird calling him my husband as well", Y/n said side eyeing little Bruce.

While Y/n looked for a doctor to make little Bruce into an adult Bruce, so the kids babysat little Bruce. Jason was in charge of entertainment, making sure Bruce was happy because nobody wanted to deal with a crying Bruce. Alfred as usual was in charge of the meals having to expand his cooking to fit Master Little Bruce's appetite. Dick made sure to clean all the messes even the toilets to help Alfred. Tim Made sure little Bruce took his daily naps, reading stories to him, leading to Tim falling asleep. Damian all together decided not to help, because of his strong dislike towards little Bruce.

Y/n had found out about Damian's jealousy towards little Bruce. " Damian I promised you will never be replaced by anyone", Y/n said putting her pinky out for a pinky promise. what surprised me was all her kids felt like this as well, even though they didn't show. "kids I didn't mean to make you feel as if you were being replaced, come on let's hug this out." Y/n even made Alfred join in the hug.

Y/n did end up finding a doctor/mad scientist and he was able to fix Bruce. But the kids decided to take pictures and videos of little Bruce to use as leverage against adult Bruce.

"So what happened when I was Little Bruce, you guys seemed to call me", Bruce said lying in bed and hugging his wife while reading a book. It's a long story I will tell you tomorrow but heads up the kids took embarrassing photos of you when you were little Bruce", Y/n covering herself in the covers. " Oh man", Bruce said slapping his forehead and sighing deeply, while Y/n laughed at his reaction. "I missed you Y/n", Bruce said kissing her lips. "I missed you too little Bruce", Y/n said letting go of the kiss with a teasing grin.

[assyriangoatfaerie]

No, these are not the same, and yes I'm mad about it! AFAIK basically all paleontologists/taxonomists agree birds are dinosaurs, but the scientific community is split over whether Pluto is a planet or not. Major astronomers, such as Alan Stern of the New Horizon's mission and Mike Brown who discovered Eris, argue that Pluto should be considered a planet - as should Eris, Ceres, and arguably others.

The 2007 IAU decision to demote Pluto was made by a small group of astronomers, and many astronomers have made (to my mind) compelling criticisms of their reasoning. The IAU's first criterion for a planet is that a it must orbit the sun, which unnecessarily excludes exoplanets around other stars and rogue planets adrift between stars. The second is that it must have enough mass to make itself roughly spherical, which everyone agrees is important. The third is that it has to have cleared it's orbit of other objects, which is the one most people take issue with, because it was made up specifically to exclude Pluto and other Kuiper Belt objects.

Like, why do other things in a planet's orbit have any bearing on whether it's a planet or not? The most compelling argument I've heard is "Well then we'd have to call like a dozen other things planets and that's a lot for people to remember." So what! So what if most of the planets in our solar system are in the Kuiper Belt, poorly understood, and only discovered in the last twenty years? That's not a problem, that's awesome! Just because you've never heard of Huamea, Quaoar, Makemake, Sedna, Orcus, or Gonggong doesn't mean they aren't planets.

The guy who coined the term "Dwarf Planet" meant it to be a subcategory of "Planet" - not a different thing from them - along with "Classical Planet" and "Satellite Planet" - the former referring to the major eight, and the latter to moons large enough to be spherical such as Charon, Europa, Titan, Calisto, and more including our own moon, Luna.

And honestly, Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars have way more in common with the Satellite and Dwarf Planets than they do with Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune, so some have argued we should split "Classical Planets" into "Terrestrial Planets" and "Gas Planets", as that division more accurately reflects the nature of the bodies in our solar system.

Eschewing the IAU's first and third criteria also means we're only relying on intrinsic characteristics of the object to define what a planet is: a star is a body massive enough that its gravity causes fusion, and a planet is a body too small to cause fusion but massive enough to make itself spherical. What happens if a rogue blackhole caused Earth to be ejected from the solar system? According to the IAU it wouldn't be a planet anymore, which is just dumb. Of course rogue planets are planets, as are dwarf planets! They literally have "planet" in the name!

"pluto isn't a planet" 🤝 "birds are dinosaurs"

being very well documented scientific facts that are completely inconsequential in everyday life, yet manage to immensely piss people off as if they are being directly attacked

[beardysuits]

Piece of Jake

Logan has hated his body his entire life. Obese, gay, and a shut in have been a terrible combination for him. He decides becoming his sexy roommate Jake may be just what he needs to build up his confidence.

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

I’ve had a crush on Jake for… well forever I guess. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a part of the same class every year since kindergarten; you get to see the cute boys become cute men. Then there was the downside of that, that anybody who bullied you from kindergarten will decide to do it until you graduate. They’ll do it for anything too; being gay, being fat, your race, your wealth. I was lucky enough to get 3 out of the 4 for about 12 years now. However, I’m ready for that to change.

See I was blessed with a fantastic combination of having a slow metabolism, and an anxiety which I decided to soothe with eating. The result has left me to be a 19 year old with a BMI of 42. And yeah, BMI is bullshit if you’re stacked with muscle, but I had the rolls and pudge to prove there was some truth to it. Combine this with the fact that I was more queer than a midnight premier of Rocky Horror, and I came out to be not the most popular guy in school. I thought that would all change once I went to college, but freshman year was hell. I essentially spent the entire time in my dorm room, locked up in the dark and playing video games. But, I guess it wasn’t all that bad.

See, back to Jake. Jake kept his status quo of being one of the top dogs from the ages of 5 to 18. Baseball star, debate captain, and voted “most likely to succeed” by our peers. Top all of that off that he was on of the few people who actually wasn’t a total ass to me, and you can see why I was head over heels for him. He was straight of course, and even if there was a touch of bisexuality in him, he would never be interested in me. Now color me surprised when I found out that not only were we going to the same college, but we got randomly assigned to be roommates in the dorms! I was astounded, it was like there really was an astral force looking out for me. 

So for almost the entirety of our freshman year, we chit chatted here and there, but Jake was almost never home. Instead, he was working to get himself into one of the fraternities and move into the house. While I was sad to not have as much time to admire Jake as I would like, that did give me the opportunity to go through his stuff. Mostly his closet. Jake wore the usual clothes you’d expect, hoodies, jerseys, wrangler jeans and the like. However, being that he was on the baseball team at the college, I found his stash of jockstraps he wore for practice. And good god, thank goodness laundry day was only once a week. The other 6 days I had a full time supply of used jocks to sniff and fantasize with. 

I even tried to put one of them on in a hormone-fueled rage, but my thighs were probably the same mass as his entire body, and I couldn’t get the damn thing on. The longer I admired Jake and saw him for who he was, the more my love for him grew. With that, so did my jealousy. Jake was everything I wanted. He was fit, cool, and could get any guy he wanted if he even batted an eye at them. My time alone did prove to give me an opportunity to do some research however. 

See, I’ve tried for a long, long, long time to get fit on my own. Watching my diet, exercise, starving myself. But, nothing would work. That’s when I started to look for more, creative solutions. I came across a blog hidden deep on the web which talked about taking another person’s form. Most of these seemed bogus, but I had to try. I found one eventually from a user, “Magic_Mann_720” who shared a potion, once which he claimed could turn anybody into a bodysuit. I was about to just toss it aside, but after looking at my desk and seeing the empty bag of McDonald’s staring back at me, I said fuck it. 

In all honesty, brewing a magic potion was easier than I assumed it would be, and after just a few short weeks of waiting for unusual supplies to arrive in the mail, I had a vial of the stuff at my whim. Now, who could I possibly give this to? No, not Jake. But also, maybe? Would that make me the worst person imaginable if I slipped this to him? He was one of the few good people I had come across, I couldn’t betray him like that. However, I saw one glimpse of his jock hanging from his hamper, and doubts crossed my mind. It was staring back at me, taunting me with how tight it fucking was. I had to wear it, and I only knew of one body it would perfectly fit. 

He was like clockwork, especially early in the morning when he made his preworkout and went off to the gym at 6 in the morning. I set my alarm for 5:50, just early enough to slip the potion into his drink before he woke up and set off. It was of course impossible to wake up so early in the morning, but somehow I managed to silence my alarm without waking Jake. 

I fumbled around in the dark and found his shake he made the night before. I had slept with the vial under my pillow, though I could barely sleep from the anticipation of my task today. Being careful to not wake him, I unscrewed the lid, dumped the contents of the vial into the jar, and shook it up. I had just laid back in my bed when his alarm woke him up. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I heard him stumble around the room, getting his bearings, getting dressed. I couldn’t resist popping one eye open to see his lithe frame as he found a tank and basketball shorts. 

He was already wearing boxers, but if my plan went accordingly, he never would wear such loose fitting underwear again. I heard him grab his shake, and my heart began to race. The pop of the lid went off, and I strained my ears to listen to him drain the contents quickly and quietly. The lid closed and just as I heard the doorknob turn, there was the sound of heavy stomps. I opened my eyes a bit wider to see Jake stumbling around, trying to get his bearings. 

“Hey… Logan?” Jake said weakly. I pretended to wake up and rose from bed, seeing him lean against his desk. 

“Jake? You okay?” I asked him. He turned his head to me, panting. 

“I d-don’t feel good man,” he said between breaths. “Get.. get help. Help.. me..” He slumped to the ground, and while I anticipated a loud thud as his jock body slammed to the ground, it was a soft thump, like that of clothes tossed to the ground. For a moment, I hesitated to creep any closer, afraid of what I would find. I mustered up the courage to turn on the bedside lamp and found a near horrifying site by the door. 

There on the ground was Jake, but he was flat as a pancake. He arms and legs stretched out, head deflated, and the clothes he was wearing were atop of him in a pile. I tiptoed to the body, already feeling regret in what I had done. Fuck why did I do this to him? Was I really so driven by my own lust I essentially just killed a good guy? 

My own footsteps were much heavier than Jakes, making the floorboards creek. I kicked at the body, the skin feeling as alive as ever, but made no movement of its own. I got on my knees, and with the tips of my fingers, grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head up. I was met with Jake’s face, his eyes now hollow sockets and mouth agape. I dropped the skin and scuttled back in fear. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s so god damn creepy! I took a few deep breaths and crawled on my hands and knees to the body once more. 

I tried to be more confident this time, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pulling him up as I struggled to stand. Jake was of similar height to me, so once I was fulling standing, I leaned the face to my mine, the tips of his toes still slumped on the floor. You know, it’s less creepy now. Jake was always a cutie, and even as a husk of himself he was irresistible. It was too late now, and while I felt bad about what I had done, I did it with a purpose. The issue now was, how the hell did I fit inside? Speaking of, would I fit at all?

I pulled at his cheek and found it to be rather elastic. My curiosity piqued, and I pulled at the corners of his mouth, which stretched at least a foot wide when I put some effort in. That gave me an idea. I quickly took off my shirt and briefs, catching my reflection in the standing mirror as I did so. God damn it, I was so fucking fat. My stomach hung out in front of me, almost covering my pathetic cock. Ass was as wide as trailer, neck rolls which made it seem like my head sat straight on my shoulders. Tits bigger than most girls I went to school with. This was my last chance to do something about it. 

I sat on my bed, laying Jake down in front of me like a pair of pants. Stepping one foot into Jake’s mouth, I stretched it further and further until my thick calves were encompassed by his lips. Grabbing at his chest, I pulled him further up my leg, already running out of breath as I did so. This was a workout on its own. I remember watching videos of guys slipping into wetsuits when I was a teenager, it was a slight fetish of mine. I loved seeing the neoprene cling to their slim figures. Those guys would go inch by inch yanking the suit further up them, so I went ahead and mirrored the practice. 

I found doing so actually made the process easier. Soon enough, my foot aligned with Jake’s. I shimmied his calves to match mine, but it was so incredibly tight. It was like my leg was vacuum sealed inside of him, crushing the fat around my leg down to match his. I began to pant, scared I was cutting off all circulation. I was so scared to look down and see something horrific, but shot a glance and was amazed by what I saw. There, my right leg was pristine. It was a mirror image of Jake’s which I had stared at so often when he wore shorts. I wiggled my toes, and Jake’s did the same motion. 

Kicking my leg around, the pain began to subside, and I could see up to my knee, it was like I had worked out my entire life. I could feel the beaming smile creep across my face as I stretched Jake’s mouth open wide again to shove my other foot inside. Now that I had some practice, my left leg was far easier to work with and soon enough, I had two sets of legs which were built from years of baseball practices and running. My thighs proved to be another issue entirely, practically twice the twice of my calves. 

I stood up from the bed, almost falling over from my balance being so off. Grabbing at Jake’s stomach, I jumped up and down a few times, his skin stretching and sliding over me with his lurch. My I stuck my hand down the inside of Jake’s mouth, the feeling of my now erect cock sliding against the inside of Jake. Although I wasn’t generously endowed, it still hurt to have it crushed inside of him. I found Jake’s cock, and while deflated, certainly overshadowed mine in length and girth. With one hand on the outside, and the other inside, I guided mine into his like a sheath. 

It was the most orgasmic feeling I had ever experienced. Jake’s cock went from looking like a flattened worm, to coming to full erection. He was at least seven inches long, and despite mine being half the size, somehow felt like it was filled entirely. It was beet red from anticipation, and while I wanted to cum right here and now, I had to finish what I started. I turned to the mirror once more, and was shocked by what I saw. From the waist up, I was still fat fuck Logan, but from the lower half, I was built like a god damn star. My new cock swung side to side, stiff as a board, and my ass, while squeezed in like a sausage, now was as perky as if I squatted 300 lbs. I turned and slapped Jake’s ass, watching as the taut skin slapped me back. All hints of cellulite gone. 

Finally was the part I was most afraid of, my stomach. It hung over the edge of Jake’s body, the flap of my stomach going over Jake’s lips. I sucked it in, which did practically nothing. Taking one of my arms, I pushed it as far in as I could, and used my other hand to pull the lips of Jake’s mouth up. I groaned in pain, feeling like a rubber band was squishing me in and threatening to cut me in half. Somehow though, his head moved up and moved. It was by inches and incredibly painful. Once I reached my belly button, I found a system to make it easier. Moving him up further and further, I finally reached my chest before I had to fall onto the bed. 

I was breathing heavier than ever, and drenched in sweat from what was left of my original body. I felt Jake’s, and he was as dry as ever, as he would never be worn out from such a task. I counted down from ten and hoisted myself up, catching my sight in the mirror. My moobs hung over Jake’s torso, but it was like I was wearing a skin corset. I rubbed my had over my new stomach, feeling how flat it was. In fact, I would even see the beginnings of a six pack bulging out. It was surreal, I don’t think I’ve been this thing since… ever. I took a deep breath and worked to shove each of my tits down Jake’s mouth. 

Each of them was a chore on their own, but eventually, all that was left were my arms and head. I don’t know how that would work, but if I made it this far, it was certainly possible. It would be tough as I would lose an arm at a time trying to slide them in. Taking my right one first, I wriggled my fingers inside, pushing them down Jake’s like a skin tight glove. With each inch my fingers slid in, it was easier and easier as I gained Jake’s strength. Eventually, the fingers found their way into his. I pulled at his bicep, as stretchy as the rest of him, and snapped it into place, enclosing my arm. 

I rushed to do the same with my left and with my newfound strength, found this section to be the easiest. I was almost done. Jake’s lips were around my neck, and I had to use his fingers to make sure he didn’t choke me. I glanced at the mirror, and found Jake with my head. I turned my body around, admiring his form. I had taken several sneaky glances at him as he changed, but to have full autonomy, to see his tattoo on his thigh, the way his veins popped in his hands, the curvature of his muscles, it was like I was being treated to a feast. 

“Goodbye Logan,” I told myself. I don’t know if I would come back from this. Or, if I would even want to. I took a deep breath and shimmied his head up my own. The same tight sensation took over my entire headspace and it was like a migraine hit me. Using my hands, I smushed my face around, placing my nose into his, eyes, lips. I fluttered my eyelids and had to refocus my vision. Going to the mirror was a picture perfect reflection of Jake. 

“Holy shit,” I said. Oh fuck, that was still my voice. I guess that wouldn’t have changed. I don’t know how I could pull off Jake’s voice, but I would have to practice it. I looked at the corner of my mouth, seeing my original lips peak through Jake’s. I took a finger, stretching and pulling it into place.

There, I was Jake. Fuck I was Jake! I laughed and rubbed my arms across my body, watching as Jake did it in the mirror. 

I spent a good ten minutes trying different poses and watching as Jake bent to my will. Sniffing his pits, making funny faces, bending over and showing off my new hole to myself. That last one sent me over the edge and I knew I had to blow off the steam which had built up. I sat on the bed and hoisted my legs up, cradling the back of my knees in my hands. I could never have even thought about attempting that in my old body, but as Jake, I felt so lithe. My smile was beaming in between my legs as I puckered my hole. I had to see what this looked like. I wanted to see Jake be pathetic now. I twisted my face to match that of so many porn actors I had watched alone in this room. 

“Ohhhh… oh fuck me daddy,” I said, begging, watching Jake’s eyes as they wished desperately for a fat cock to fill him up. I split into my hand and began to pump my new cock, already slick and slimy from precum. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wet it before sliding it over my hole and slicking it up. I had plenty of experience playing with my old hole, but I always struggled to get my arm in a position to really get deep in. Jake didn’t have that problem though. I started to finger fuck myself, watching as Jake became his own bitch. 

“Oh fuck daddy, fuck me. Fuck me!” I yelled, the point of climax racing through my cock before I could even react. Laces of cum shot out and started to drench my body, reaching even to my face and getting into my hair. I pulled my finger out of my hole, let go of my cock, and felt it rest against my thigh. There in the reflection was Jake, covered in his own cum and looking like a bitch. 

I giggled, knowing I should feel far more guilty about what I had done, but too high on my own bliss to care. After bathing in my glory, I decided to clean Jake up and explore his body some more. I grabbed one of his towels and left the room, still naked. Walking down the dorm hall to the bathroom, it was still dead silent. Logan would have been petrified at the idea of being caught naked by somebody, but Jake? Well Jake now hoped somebody would see him and be jealous. 

Getting into the bathroom, I passed by Brad, another guy on our floor, who had a towel wrapped around his waist, still glistening from his shower. 

“Jake, the fuck?” He asked. I couldn’t pull off Jake’s voice yet, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder and winked at him as I pushed past. For a second I caught a glimpse of him checking out my body before he shook his head and rushed out to his room. I went to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and knelt over, posing and kissing at myself. Jake was going to become a lot more playful it seemed. 

I took my time in the shower, feeling every crevice of Jake’s body and feeling myself up. And of course, stretching out his hole some more to work him up to taking a real dick. Maybe by one of his new frat brothers I need to meet. Once I got back to our room, I knew there was only one thing left on my to do list of the morning. I went to Jake’s hamper and pulled out the jock which was mocking me just hours before. I sniffed at, Jake’s pheromones becoming mine. 

I slipped both legs down and had no trouble at all this time adjusting my bulge and feeling the elastic hug my jock thighs. I snapped one of the bands, feeling a sheer run my spine as I did so. Slipping one of his black shirts on, I went for Jake’s phone, which thankfully could be opened with just his face. I snapped a few pictures for myself to look at whenever I pleased. Now, how about we download Grindr to it and see what this new body can pull?

[superblysubpar]

steve harrington x you

2,676 words

warnings: SMUT (oral, reader recieving / public - not caught / a praise kink) | NSFW 18+

A/N: Okay, so this whole relationship has lived in my mind for a long time. So like, I don't know. I guess this is a part of another story I'd love to write, but I don't know if I ever will. But they're sort of rivals at work, sort of friends with benefits, sort of enemies, sort of lovers. They're a mess. But I really love them, and I hope you do too. | so sorry, I know I'm late with all of these, thanks for your patience! There is voting for tomorrow at the bottom of this one, it'll be combined with the other's posted today.

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow's fic at the bottom of this blurb

“Lost?” Your pen clicks beneath your thumb as you keep your eyes on your notebook.

The scent of cinnamon lingers just to your left, the notes of coffee and caramel with it have you deciding it’s not his gum this time as he slides into the vacant chair next to you.

“What makes you say that?” His voice is low, though the level you’re on is a speaking floor, he knows you’ve got that furrowed brow and jaw set like you’re deep in something you can’t quite crack, focused.

A hum rumbles in your chest as you shift papers in front of you and tilt your head, like looking at the page from a new angle will literally help you find yours.

“Steve Harrington? In a library?” Your gaze flits over to him and his chest inflates from the eye contact, even if it is a little colder than it’s been lately.

“Ouch,” he pouts his lips, hand over his cream colored sweater above his heart. Green and gold disappearing as his eyes slit. “I come to the library all the time, actually.”

“Yeah?” Your body turns to face his more straight on, torso curled as you rest your elbow on the back of your chair. “For what?”

Steve’s arms shift on the back of the chair he was straddling, a pink tongue licks out over his bottom lip that twists in one corner. He shrugs his shoulders as he stares at your mouth.

“Research.”

A snort bubbles out of you as you shake your head and turn back to your papers, ignoring the way your stomach flutters at the word knowing full and well Steve doesn’t mean the kind of research you were currently doing.

Steve watches you shift on the wood chair in front of him, eager eyes following the way your fingers flex, the way you roll your neck. His swallow thick when you pull the sleeve of your sweatshirt down over your knuckles and spin the silver spoon ring on your index finger.

He clears his throat and gently sets the peace offering next to your stack of books.

“I’m not here for research-“

“I’m truly shocked,” interrupting him in a deadpanned sigh.

“I’m here,” he adds stronger, leaning towards you so he can softly finish, “To say sorry.”

The scoff you want to give his half-assed apology gets caught in your throat when his hand reaches forward. It’s swallowed down when his fingers tilt up your chin so you’ll look at him when he says, “That was really shitty of me last night. And I’m sorry.”

Steve stares at you earnestly, pink lips unsmirking, unsmiling, solemn and perfectly framed by the length and amount of dark stubble that drives you crazy.

In a good way.

The gold class ring on his middle finger glints in the lamp light of the desk as he drops his hand from your jaw.

“You…you don’t have anything to apologize for,” your shoulders shrug and you look anywhere but his eyes, settling on the freckle just to the left of his lips. “We said this was casual, right?”

Steve nods slowly, he clears his throat. “Right.”

“Besides,” you laugh quietly, you bite down on your cheek when your heartbeat feels like it’s trying to climb up your throat. “I hate you.”

Your gaze cuts to him to find he’s still staring at you, stealing your breath from your lungs and making you fall even further, sure to have injuries when you finally hit the bottom of whatever this is.

“Right. And I…” he trails off and shakes his head. Lips forming a soft smile as he stands up and pushes the chair in. “Enjoy the coffee.”

When you’re sure he’s out of sight, your head falls forward, a loud thunk accompanied by your sigh as you make contact with the wood.

Each breath in is a forced thing, like you’re reminding yourself how to breathe. Each exhale then a relief to something tight in your chest from the weight all of this is resting on you.

Eventually, you sit up, and grab at the coffee, spinning it in search of it’s lids mouth, but instead finding black sharpie scrawled on the side of the cup.

Steve’s handwriting so familiar to you now, it makes that tight feeling in your chest constrict.

Let me make it up to you?

Accompanied by a series of numbers your feet and heart know the way to before your brain can provide a logical list of reasons to not go to it.

Deeper and deeper into the library, up several flights and past crowds, then single studiers, than no one for a long time. The spines collect dust, lights aren’t quite as bright, and the carpet here is plusher than the more frequented stacks, muffling your steps as you grow closer.

Steve sits on the ground, wedged between a ledge of small windowsill and a row of books. His knee is bent, supporting a softbound leather journal against light blue Levi’s. One leg is kicked out, Nike adorned foot restless as his pen flows over a page, then another, furiously, and in a way you know yourself quite well. It means he got an idea for a story, means he can’t stop until he gets all the jumbled words out of his brain and onto the page. So you wait, until the pen slows and he blows out a breath while his eyes scan over what he wrote.

Your head knocks against the shelf, watching him silently and in awe. You’re not sure when habits of his like holding the pen between his lips as his fingers drummed on the page he was rereading or his knee turned from something that annoyed you to something that made the butterflies in your stomach really happy.

But it happened, and they are. Their wings flap around crazily when sunlight drifts in and hits the top of his hair his large hand is ruffling, catching blondes and caramels in the darker waves. They take flight when he pulls the pen from his mouth so it can smile at the page, proud of whatever he’s come up with.

They threaten to escape up through your chest and bust out with your heart when he looks up at you finally.

“Hey, Friday,” he says softly, fondly, a little surprised you came. He stands up and fiddles with the ties of his journal.

The butterflies are now in your throat, threatening to push out all the things you’ve been holding back.

For two people who love words and sure know how to use them, Steve and you seem to be able to say an awful lot without them.

He knows what you’re saying, as you take timid steps down the row to him, that you’re here for his apology though you don’t think he needs to give you one, as you already said, but it’s appreciated. He knows he does when he watches your gaze fall to the floor when his fingers circle around your wrist.

The tender brush of his thumb along your racing pulse, the gentle kiss that lingers in the same spot, and the way he pulls that same hand to rest on his chest, right above his own thumping heart tells you he’s just afraid of all of this as you are.

Steve’s head tilts the same time as yours, an unspoken agreement that, for now, you’re gonna let it go, because this is working, whatever it is. And maybe that’s scary, but neither of you have let your fears stop you before.

His lips hover over yours, bottom lip just barely between his as he murmurs, “I get to make it up to you now, yeah?”

Your head nods, tip of your nose knocking his as he exhales against your jaw. His hands find your waist, they guide you to rest on the ledge of the frosted window, so light can be let in but distraction can be locked out. Steve’s lips skate over and up your jaw, his mouth pressed to your ear. He breathes out, his smile a ghost against the shell of it when you shiver underneath his body leaning over yours. His lips move against your skin, words a whisper that goes straight down your spine and between your legs.

“I know this might be hard for you honey, but no noises. Got it?”

When you don’t respond, he pulls away, hands placed on either side of your hips on the ledge so he can be nose to nose with you again. His eyebrows raise expectantly, his nose taps yours.

“Say you understand.” Though his command is quiet, it’s strong, and unable to be argued with.

“I understand,” you swallow down the butterflies that are still incredibly worked up.

Traitors.

It’s not like you to like to be told what to do, but there’s something that falls away when you’re with Steve like this, like you’re the art that’s merely a hobby for you and he’s the artist. You’re looser, pliant, at the mercy of his hands to do what they want, trusting his vision more than your own.

Steve finally kisses you, though it’s over too quick as he pants out a quiet groan of, “Good girl.”

Your bottom lip wedges itself between your teeth at the praise, the butterflies take it and swoon inside of you.

He drops to his knees, slowly, his gaze never wavering on yours, amber and emerald hit by a band of sunlight just for you.

Steve pushes at your knees gently, his eyes do leave yours then, to follow his finger on its path from your knee, taking the hem of your little thrifted slip dress up with it. The skin beneath your black tights buzzes, making you wonder if a body could catch on fire from just a little bit of friction. If two people who make enough heat between each other…could they both burst into flames, be scorned by the thing they know is bad for them but can’t, won’t, stop.

His other hand joins the tantalizingly slow drag of your dress up, it pushes at your thigh until the maroon colored fabric littered with tiny florals is bunched at your hips indecently.

He leans down, his fingers curled into the dress and bruising at your waist underneath as his lips follow the same trail, up from your knee, stopping to place hot and opened mouthed kisses against your thigh that have your eyelashes fluttering.

Your hand curls around the ledge you’re resting on when Steve’s fingers drag down, following the crease of where thigh meets hip. His thumb’s massage lower and lower until his mouth is open over your center. He breathes out a low groan when his tongue flattens against the damp nylon.

Then his fingers tug, and a loud rip makes you jolt.

“Ste-“ Your hand smacks over your own mouth at the loud call of his name.

Steve’s smile presses to your cunt, as your pulse races. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as your eyes widen, waiting for someone to come around the corner and find you.

Especially when his tongue flattens again, this time in contact with your skin and your eyes practically roll back in your head. His stubble scratches at your skin in that way that drives you the good kind of crazy. Steve licks you once, long and lingering, dragging his tongue through your folds only to dive back down and do it again, and again, and again, and-

His thumb’s continue to massage next to his mouth, they hold you open for him and pull your skin taut so he can trace each curve, make sure no spot is left unkissed by his lips. He goes slow, ‘cause he knows working you up like this is gonna make you yell out his name no matter how hard you bite down on your tongue when you come.

He knows the slow way his tongue traces you like you’re a map he’s memorizing is making your stomach somersault and your chest heave. He doesn’t have to look up, but he does. He finds your head thrown back, your hand pressed to the wall next to you and your mouth parted in a gasp when he pulls one of your lips between his and sucks.

Your chin drops to your chest, a hand acts of it’s own accord when Steve’s gaze meets yours. His smile breaks his rhythm, but not for long when he nods and your fingers card through the top of his hair.

Steve’s hum rumbles against your core, the sound of his tongue against you pornographic, especially with how heavy your breaths leave your parted mouth as he goes back to the flat, broad strokes over and over again and that’s when you realize:

He hasn’t even touched your clit yet.

The thought makes the heat bubbling in your stomach, boil, a new wave of arousal gushes over his tongue and his licks pick up their pace, loving the way your thighs clench around his ears.

Your mouth gasps his name and you bite down on your bottom lip harder, and your hand pushes at the back of his head, fingers curling in the caramel locks as your other does around the lip of the ledge you rest on. Inside your converse, your toes curl as your hips roll against his face.

Steve strains in his jeans when you start riding his face, hips canting up in search of what he knows you’re ready for now. His nose hits it first and his dick twitches when a quiet ‘Yes’ falls from above him.

His lips follow, they press a kiss to your clit, his tongue traces it, and he sucks.

Your legs shake against his shoulders, and you’re seeing stars behind your now closed eyelids when his tongue starts prodding at your entrance, licks through everything you’re giving him and finishes it with circles of his nose to your vibrating nerves resting above it all. He does it over and over again and you could sob, you could beg, you could care fucking less if someone walked by right now.

The butterflies wreck havoc on your insides, pushing things out of place and making a mess so you don’t even know how to clean it all up. Unsure of how you normally breathe, how do your limbs properly function? How does your body do anything other than this with him every second of every day?

Steve knows you’re about to come when your hips shift, like they’re trying to pull away from him, so his hands are quicker, and they catch you and hold you still.

Yours grab at his shoulders as your body curls over him, the warmth in your stomach that had boiled over now floods your entire body, it flows over his tongue. He keeps going while you ride it out, rolling your hips and gasping his name a little too loud.

Steve doesn’t stop till you’re knees are pushing at his shoulders and your hand is back in his hair, lazily pushing it off of his forehead.

The sounds around him finally return, how hard he’s breathing, how hard you’re breathing. The low buzz and hiss of a furnace. A distant cough.

He pulls your dress down again and stands, knees aching a little, but he could care less.

Not when you smile at him all sleepy and satisfied and smitten with him, though neither of you will admit it.

His skin shines with sweat and you and he shakes his head like you’re ridiculous, like he doesn’t know what he’ll do with you, before his lips brush over yours far too soft and conveying quite the opposite of what you both know the other is about to say.

‘Cause for two people who really love words and sure know how to use them, neither of you have ever been great liars.

“I hate you,” you murmur as he leans in.

“Feeling’s mutual.”

I decided that for this one, I'll share a little snippet from some wips that may or may not have already been hinted at in this event. Have fuuunnn

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/10

[mistycreativelilacs]

Can you please write a Bruce Wayne imagine where he catches her singing or something cute like that?

Welp… it only took me -checks watch- three years to respond to this, but uh… here’s a 5000 word drabble I guess.

Kitchen Off Limits

About a year into living at Wayne manor you enacted an (ever growing) list of rules. Originally the list only had three rules on it:

1. Sunday is family day. Baring any Gotham destroying/world ending catastrophes everyone is to be in the dinning room no later than 11am for brunch followed by a previously voted on family activity.

2. Family Activity planning occurs on the first Saturday of the month, activities for the whole month will be decided then.*

*Attendance is NOT mandatory, however those who do not participate do not get to complain when we spend 3 Sundays in a row at the zoo.**

**No liberating animals from the zoo.

3. Monday thru Saturday the kitchen belongs to Alfred. Sunday morning’s the kitchen belongs to Mom*.

*That means no one, not even Alfred can enter the kitchen until AFTER brunch**.

**Yes Tim that includes you. You can wait for your morning cup of coffee***.

***ABSOLUTELY NO coffee pots, mini fridges, microwaves, blenders, hot plates, or dry food storage in your bedrooms or you WILL be personally hunting down every rodent and bug that comes crawling into the manor****.

****You can NOT train an army of cats to hunt vermin as a trade off for a mini fridge.

Certain amendments had to be made to the list with each new addition to the household. The final amendment to rule three inspired the creation of its own rule.

243. If you bring a pet into the house, YOU must personally care for it at all times. This includes feeding, grooming, walking, training and cleaning up after them as well as insure they have a proper habitat to live in*.

*Your bedroom is only a proper habitat for regular domestic animals (ie. dogs, cats, fish, small reptiles, small birds, caged rodents such as rats, Guinea pigs or hamsters and snakes, within reason - no large pythons). Large animals whether native to our region or exotic must be housed in a properly built enclosure on the grounds.

Needles to say the Wayne children kept you on your toes. Which brings us to now.

You awoke at the crack of dawn this morning to prep for the day. In a not so shocking twist, Damien had lied, cheated and outright bribed several of his siblings in order to get a zoo trip in this month. The Waynes were such regulars at the zoo (and contributed so much in donations) that they’d named an entire section after the family. The Wayne Reptile House (filled to the brim with several of the reptiles you’d ‘rescued’ from Damien’s room upon Alfred’s discovery of Damien’s unsanctioned renovation of his closet). It was important to you that the children experienced even just a smidge of normalcy amongst all the vigilantism.

You’re staring into the pantry, debating whether to do pancakes or waffles, when an old favourite song comes on the speaker. This was your favourite part of Sunday’s. Once everyone realized how serious you were about the rules, Sunday morning had become your alone time. If the kids were fighting, they handled it amongst themselves. If someone had a question, they went to Bruce or Alfred for answers. Mom was not to be disturbed.

The word Mom still brings a small smile to your face. You’d never really pictured yourself as a mother but when you’d stumbled your way into a romance with THE Bruce Wayne, he’d already gained 2 of your ever growing hoard of children. You’d stumbled your way into motherhood much the way you stumbled into Bruce’s arms.

You begin to softly hum to the song as you decide to just make pancakes and waffles. With a family full of crime fighters more was always the safer option. No one wants a repeat of Tim and Richard’s destructive fight for the last cinnamon bun. You had to spend a fortune redoing the dinning room after, replacing antiques was not cheap, and your heart still hadn’t recovered from the sticker shock. Needless to say the boys were still working off their debt by assisting Alfred in the daily runnings of the manor. As you got lost in the gargantuan undertaking of cooking for the whole Wayne clan, your gentle hums morphed to soft whispers of lyrics.

Just as you were frying the last batch of pancakes the opening chords of your and Bruce’s song came through the speakers. It would be more accurate to state that you’d unilaterally declared it your and Bruce’s song. During your second year of dating you had slowly begun introducing him to the world of romcoms. One particularly chilly fall day that year saw Bruce catching a cold. You took advantage of that to force him into a binge of some of the best and cringiest of your favourites from the 2000’s. Two particular movies seemed to make the notoriously stoic Bruce Wayne emotional. The obvious one being ‘Two Weeks Notice’, but it was the Hugh Grant, Drew Barrymore semi-musical ‘Music & Lyrics’ that would produce the perfect song for your and Bruce’s life together.

As the sounds of Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore came through the speaker you began to sing in earnest.

‘I've been living with a shadow overhead

I've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed

I've been lonely for so long

Trapped in the past, I just can't seem to move on’

Your mind drifted to how you and Bruce met. Recently heartbroken and determined never to let another man hurt you, you’d sworn of men and decided to dedicate all your attention to advancing at work. Your first steps were taking the assignment no one else wanted to touch with a ten foot pole. Being Bruce Wayne’s personal assistant. Those who succeeded at such a gargantuan undertaken seemed to excel through the ranks at Wayne Enterprises, but those who fell short well, you’d heard his last personal assistant had moved back home to small town Kansas and given up the corporate ladder completely.

Your first week had been a cake walk, seeing as Bruce had been away on business meetings in Europe. It’d given you time to get settled in and a system in place. You were determined to be the best personal assistant he’d ever had.

Upon Bruce’s first day back in the office, you’d mustered up all the courage you had and waltz into his office. With barely a good morning you’d launched into a tirade of how things were going to be and that unlike his past assistants you were going to set boundaries. He’d blinked at you slowly, and you were convinced you were about to be fired. His mouth opened and the word okay seemed to unintentionally fall out. You both stood there a moment, seemingly shell shocked at the interaction, before you gathered your wits. With a pivot of your heels you rushed out your own okay before returning to your desk.

Unbeknownst to you Bruce himself had been going through a touch of heartbreak, having had a fall out with his former paramour Selina. His accounts of your first meeting paint you in a much fiercer, more beautiful light. But you’re sure he’s simply remembering the day with rose tinted glasses seeing as you had a poorly concealed coffee stain on your blouse and your hair had definitely begun its escape from the clip you’d rushed it into on the train that morning. Nevertheless he claims it was your fierce determination that stunned him into submission and not his utter exhaustion from sleep deprivation.

‘I’ve been hiding all my hopes and dreams away

Just in case I ever need ‘em again someday

I’ve been setting aside time

To clear a little space in the corners of my mind’

The weeks following your initial meeting were a full of meetings, calls and insuring your boss took proper care of himself. It took exactly three days for you to realize he’d forget to eat, four to realize he seemed to not be sleeping either.

You quietly placed a standing order with the sandwich place down a couple blocks from the building, and then methodically went through Bruce’s calendar and put a two hour meeting blackout everyday around 2pm. You’d also had the couch that sat on the wall just outside his office doors moved into his office proper. The next day you simply waltzed into his office at noon and dropped the sandwich on his desk before returning to your own desk. Two hours later you waltzed in dropping a pillow and blanket on the couch and closed the blinds without a word. As you turned to leave Bruce questioned what you were doing. You simply informed him that you’d place a permanent daily block on meetings between 2pm-4pm and that his office doors would be locked for that period of time as well.

When asked, Bruce will claim that as the day he fell in love with you.

You continued on that way for months, the world seeming to move in a blur around you. Your friends encouraged you to start dating again, but you just weren’t sure you could ever trust a man again. Besides, work was so exhausting most days that you were certain you’d simply pass out at the restaurant if you did go on a date. What a terrible first impression that would make.

It was a seemingly unremarkable Tuesday morning when the world came screaming into focus again.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

Oh’

You’d been tutting about the office while Bruce attended a meeting with Lucius in the lower levels of Wayne Enterprises. You had just started printing off a report for Bruce’s next meeting when your printer ran out of paper. Normally this would be a none issue, except for reasons unknown to you, the night cleaner had developed a habit of putting the box of printer paper on top of the bookcase in the corner. A bookcase that stood nearly three heads taller than you. He’d been doing it for weeks despite your many conversations with him about it. You had tried bringing it up to Bruce, but he just blamed it on the language barrier and claimed it as a non-issue since he could just grab it for you.

It was just your luck that the printer would run out when Bruce was in the midst of a meeting and wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, probably two seeing as his meetings with Lucius always seemed to go over their allotted time slot. You’d been certain the office would have a step ladder hidden around somewhere, but after nearly twenty minutes of searching and being put on hold with maintenance, you’d given up. You could just wait till Bruce returned, but you had only printed half of the first of ten copies of a 40 page report that was required for his next meeting. You’d begun cursing everyone from the night cleaner for his obsession with moving the paper to the head of marketing and research’s assistants for not sending the reports yesterday when you’d requested them. Difficult problems required creative solutions, however the only thing you had that was light enough to drag over to the bookcase while giving you enough height to grab a ream of paper was your office chair. As the head of the companies employee safety committee you knew this was a terrible idea, as Bruce Wayne’s golden assistant the risk of letting your boss down for the first time ever outweighed the risk to your personal safety.

Even with the chair you needed to climb the bookshelf to actually reach the shelf the paper was on. Ream firmly in your grasp you moved to step back into the chair. As your foot touched the chair your hand slipped from the shelf and you felt yourself go backwards. You closed your eyes and braced for impact but it never came. Instead you felt arms wrap around your back and hip, securing you to a firm chest. You opened your eyes coming face to face with Bruce. Had his eyes always been that blue?

“What the hell were you doing.” He was angry, his blue eyes tightening with worry. A warmth flitted through you at the thought that he cared about your safety.

“Grabbing the printer paper.” You gasped out, bending to grab the ream that had fallen to the ground when you’d lost your grip.

“You could have injured yourself if I hadn’t shown up in time.” Bruce was still in your personal space and it was starting to overwhelm you. ‘Had he always been this… large?’ He seemed to tower over you.

“Yes, well I wouldn’t have needed to do all that if the cleaner would stop placing my printer paper up there.” You’d stepped back from Bruce, needing something to keep you from ogling your boss, you began fiddling with the printer.

“You could have waited for me.” He got in your space again, his voice softer now as he took the paper from your shaking hands.

“Do you understand how ridiculous it is to have to wait for the CEO of the company just to load a ream of paper into my printer?” You huffed out, turning back towards him now. The two stood there, chest to chest just staring at each other. You didn’t want to be the one to back down first, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep from blushing while staring into to his eyes.

‘What was with you today? You’d never had a problem going toe to toe with Bruce before. Now suddenly your acting like a horny school girl, daydreaming about climbing this man like-

“Fine.” Bruce stalked off to his office, an indiscernible glower on his face, leaving you to ponder what the hell had just happened. And why you seemingly out of nowhere had very inappropriate thoughts about your boss.

That night marked the first of many failed blind dates, agreed to only after having decided that it was your lack of a love life that had you daydreaming about your boss.

The next morning the box of paper was on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.

‘I’ve been watching but the stars refuse to shine

I’ve been searching but I just don’t see the signs

I know that it’s out there

There’s gotta be something for my soul somewhere’

Things between you and Bruce changed after that day. You’d never realized how comfortable you two had become with one another until you suddenly weren’t. You’d taken to communicating with him almost exclusively through emails and his calendar due to how awkward everything had become. He’d try to ask you about your life and you’d just clam up, not wanting to tell the object of your recurring lusty dreams about your string of failed dates. Failed because after less than two minutes you’d start comparing all of them to Bruce. The whole thing was getting so out of hand, you’d started seriously contemplating putting in for a transfer.

You’d been so lost in thought it took Bruce loudly clearing his throat for you to notice him standing in front of your desk.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” You’d resolved that complete professionalism was the only sure way to put everything back to normal. Or at least it will hopefully allow you to cling to some semblance of normal until you stop chickening out and put in for reassignment.

“I was wondering,” he seemed nervous, fidgeting with the snow globe I kept on the edge of my desk. “Do you have a date to the Christmas Gala?” Oh. He’s not? Is he? He couldn’t possibly-“I was just thinking if you didn’t have one, we could go together.” He was- “just as friends. We are friends aren’t we?” n’t.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne I suppose I’ve come to regard you as a” the word friend seemed to catch in your throat “friend over these last few months. But, to be quite honest with you, I wasn’t planning on attending the Christmas Gala.”

“You have too. In fact, I’m making it a mandatory requirement of your job that you have to be there. I’ll pick you up at 7pm.” He didn’t even give you time to respond before waltzing back into his office. It took all of 30 seconds for you to follow after him.

“You cannot force me to go to the gala Mr.Wayne.” You’d stopped in front of his desk, arms crossed over your chest.

“Why not?” He leaned back in his chair, smug smile glued to his face.

“Because I’m a human being with free will and, according to the Wayne Enterprises Employee Handbook, attempting to force me to attend would constitute harassment.” The smile slowly dropped from his face as he rose from his chair.

“If you truly don’t want to attend, I won’t push the matter.” He took slow, deliberate steps towards you, halting just far enough to be considered proper, but still close enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. “However, it’d mean a lot to me if you did attend.” You’d been so distracted by his eyes and the seemingly sincere look on his face that you hadn’t even noticed he’d reached for your hand. You stood there utterly unmoored by the events of the past few minutes. You mentally shook your self out and opened your mouth to once again decline his invitation.

“Okay.” You were stunned with utter disbelief at the disconnect between your brain and your mouth. Bruce smirked.

“Perfect, like I said early I’ll pick you up around 7pm. If we’re going together, I really should match my tie to your dress. What colour is it going to be?” He’d started heading back to his desk.

“Mint.” You mumbled out. If you were going to be photographed on Bruce Waynes arm, even as just a friend, there was only one dress in your wardrobe that was even close to passable. Turns out you would get a second wear out of the bridesmaids dress from your sister’s wedding.

‘I’ve been looking for someone to shed some light

Not somebody just to get me through the night

I could use some direction

And I’m open to your suggestions’

The Christmas Gala was a disaster. The gala itself was wonderful, decorated to the nines, wonderful little hors d’oeuvres being passed around on trays that looked suspiciously like real silver. You however were a disaster. After entering the gala on Bruces arm, to the flash of what seemed like a million cameras, you’d been immediately pulled away to solve a crisis for the marketing assistants. The crisis turned out to be nothing more than a minor tear in her dress. One strategically placed safety pin later and you found yourself in the midst of the gala uncertain where Bruce had wandered off too.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing standing alone?” Oliver Queen. You’d had several run ins with him whilst working for Bruce.

“Oliver, not that it’s any of your business but I’m looking for Bruce.” You didn’t even bother glancing at him, lest you encourage his flirtations. “You haven’t seen him recently, have you?”

“Does Brucie really have you working on Christmas? He truly has no shame. If you were working for me-“ You cut him off before he could descend into what was sure to be a thinly veiled innuendo.

“We’ve talked about this Oliver. I’m not interested in you, professionally or personally.” You levelled your iciest look at him.

“Sheesh, can’t even give a guy a shot in the spirit of Christmas?” You harden your glare. “Fine, fine. I can take a hint sometimes.” He raised his hands in surrender before placing them on your shoulders turning you in a full 180. “Your beloved Brucie is right there, and it seems he’s decided to use the spirit of the season to rekindle an old flame.” You were met with the sight of Bruce and Selina Kyle in an arch way locked in a kiss.

“Oh.” Logically you knew you had no right to be upset. Bruce had made it abundantly clear the two of you were just friends. But if that were true, why did this feel so much worse than any breakup you’d gone through in your near 25 years of life. “Excuse me, I need to- I should check- I…” You left Oliver standing there as you rushed from the ballroom.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart again

I guess I’m hoping you’ll be there for me in the end’

You wrote your two week notice on the train ride back to your apartment. You were sure you looked quite the sight, shivering in your evening dress, makeup running down your face from the tears you couldn’t hold back. It took an hour longer than normal to reach your corner of Gotham, it gave you time to compartmentalize. Due to the Holidays you’d only have to work out one week of your two weeks notice, but that was still one week of having to see the man who had unintentionally shattered your heart. The worst part is you couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d done nothing to lead you on or imply that you were anything more than friends. You’d simply allowed your imagination to get the better of you and now here you were crying because you’d broken your own heart. You were so lost in your own heartbreak you failed to notice the man standing outside your apartment building until you literally walked into him.

“I’m so sor-“ you began to tumble out an apology as you lifted your eyes to the face of the torso you’d just slammed into, only to be met with achingly familiar blue eyes. “Bruce?”

“You left.” He looked upset, almost as if he were the one heartbroken. “You didn’t even say goo- Have you been crying?” His hand lifts to your face, thumb trailing under your eye. You have to repress a shudder at the feeling of his warm hand on your cold cheek. “Was it Queen? Did he say something again? I’ll have him bared from the building.” You step out of Bruce’s embrace.

“No, it wasn’t Oliver Mr.Wayne.” Professionalism, detachment, that was the only way you were going to get through this final encounter with the man you’d come to love. “It was a personal matter and it’s been handled. But since you’re here I might as well do this face to face. I’m resigning from my position as your personal assistant effective immediately. I’ve already emailed HR and-“

“No.”

“No? This isn’t a yes or no, situation Mr. Wayne. I’m not asking your permission, I’m telling you. I quit.” You’re astonished at the level of strength in your own voice.

“No, you don’t. And while we’re at it you’ll stop with this Mr.Wayne nonsense and go back to calling me Bruce.” He’s agitated now, angry at you.

“Mr. Wayne once again it’s not up to you. I’ve already sent my notice to HR, and accepted a new position elsewhere.” A small lie, but a seemingly necessary one seeing how hard of a time Bruce seems to be having with grasping the concept of your departure from his life.

“Then I’ll buy this new company you work for.” He’s invaded your personal bubble once more.

“Mr. Wayne you can’t just buy a corporation to stop me from quitting.”

“Bruce, and yes I can. I’m a billionaire if you’ve forgotten.” You’re nearly chest to chest at this point. “If this personal matter is the reason you’re quitting, then let me help. I’m sure with your brains and my money we can figure out a solut-“

“I’m in love with you, you idiot.” You push at his chest, anger fuelling your every movement now. “I’m in love with you and I didn’t relish the thought of having to sit in that office day after day watching you moon over Seli-“ He’s kissing you. Bruce Wayne is kissing you. Your to stunned to do anything other than let him.

‘There are moments when I don’t know if it’s real

Or if anybody feels the way I feel

I need inspiration

Not just another negotiation’

When he’d finally pulled away, self satisfied look on his face, you began to berate him. It was his turn to be stunned into silence while you cursed him out in the middle of the street (unbeknownst to either of you, one of the teens from your apartment block filmed the whole thing. It went viral by morning and Wayne Enterprises PR team had to work overtime to spin it in the companies favour). It would take the better part of a week for him to convince you that what’d you seen was Selina’s last ditch attempt at winning him back. It’d taken him another two months of failed wooing attempts to finally get you to agree to be his girlfriend.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can't make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart to you

I'm hoping you'll show me what to do

And if you help me to start again

You know that I'll be there for you in the end’

The song fades out and your left standing in the middle of your kitchen lost in thought when a gentle chuckle penetrates your subconscious. You whirl around to find Bruce leaned against the entryway, smile lighting up his face.

“How long have you been standing there?” You could feel a blush beginning to bloom across your cheeks.

“Does it matter?” He advances on you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, I need to gauge how embarrassed I should be.” You sink into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his neck. He bends down and plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

“What were you thinking so intently about?” He gently sweeps an errant strand of hair behind your ear. It was your turn to plant a distracting kiss on Bruce’s lips, the last thing you needed was to inflate his ego. “Ah, so you were thinking about me.” He smirks when you break for air.

“I was not.” Your blush deepens, as if thinking about your husband was the most scandalous thing in the world.

“Mom’s always thinking about you. It’s kinda gross actually.” Jason sat atop your counter eating a cinnamon bun. “What do you even see in the old man anyway? You’re young, attractive and funny. You could do a lot better than Bruce.”

“Off my counter.” You pulled out of Bruce’s embrace to admonish your son. “And put that down, those are for brunch.” You swat his hand away from the fruit tray. He hops off the counter planting a kiss to your check, as he grabs the fruit tray and starts carrying it to the table in the adjacent dinning room.

“It is brunch though mother.” You startle a bit at the sound of Damians voice coming from beside you, nearly 15 years in and you still got startled by the way they all seemed to move in utter silence popping up from seemingly nowhere. At 5’4” your youngest was nearly eye to eye with you, a few more years and he’d tower over you like his brothers.

“Did you all collectively wake up and decided today was the day to disregard all of mom’s rules?” You move to turn off the speaker, mourning your few hours of peace and beginning to mentally prep for the chaos of having all 7 of the Wayne children in one dinning room. “Tim you better be putting that coffee into a cup.” You had a sixth sense for Tim’s caffeine habit and, unbeknownst to him, had been taking steps to curb it. Your most recent ingenious plan was slowly mixing decaf into the regular coffee. Your current batch of grounds was 60% decaf and only 40% caffeinated.

“Of course mom. I wouldn’t dream of breaking your rules.”

“Bullshit.” You whisper under your breath. “Aren’t you all currently breaking rule number 3?” The boys had the decency to at least feigen sheepishness.

“But it is brunch.” Duke, Stephanie and Cas shuffle into the kitchen together.

“Technically the wording of the rule does state that we’re not supposed to enter the kitchen until after brunch, which is why I entered the dining room through the hallway.” Richard leaned his head through the entryway between the two rooms.

“We get it, your mom’s favourite little suck up.” Jason slaps the back of Richards head on his way back into the kitchen. He loads his arms with various platters from the counter before turning back to his siblings. “Well come on half-wits, if you’re gonna break mom’s rules might as well make ourselves useful.”

“Jason, don’t hit your brother.” Your admonishment is half hearted at best, knowing full well your second eldest was likely to simply pretend to listen, while waiting till you turned your back to strike his older brother once again. “And Richard don’t even think about retaliating while he’s holding those platters.” You lean against the back counter running a hand through your hair, releasing it from its haphazard bun. You watch the other kids with the eyes of a well seasoned mother, fear for your antique dish-ware seizing you. You really should just invest in plastic dish-ware at this point, or perhaps you can commission Lucius to develop a line of indestructible dish-ware. There has to be a market for that, right?

Bruce comes to stand beside you, placing a mug of tea in your hands. You lean your head against his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your lips.

“No regrets?” He asks, as the sound of a squabble erupt from the dinning room.

“Not a one.” You smile. No, you wouldn’t trade this for anything. CRASH Okay, maybe you’d trade out whichever child just broke- CRASH - TWO plates. “Boys what did I just say about fighting with my antiques in your hands!”

[maryleclerc]

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 — charles leclerc

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which prince charles and princess y/n of monte carlo announce their pregnancy of their first royal baby

vote for the royal baby name here ❤️

warning: english is not my native language and i did use google translation also i did not know much about the royal rule so please don’t take it serious, i’ll be grateful if you leave comment to let me know about my writing if i needed to fix anything

read previous part: 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 > 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

charles_leclerc with y/n_leclerc

Liked by y/n_leclerc, lorenzotl and 174,730,461 others

charles_leclerc We are really happy to announce that we are expecting our first child. Y/n and i decided to not appear in any public event until the birth of our child for safety of my wife and baby. And we also receive lots and lots of congrat and with all the best wishes for both of us and baby

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y/n_leclerc ❤️❤️

sofiagraace Love you both

heismydreamman She will join the Christmas Night ceremony with the royal and we’ll see her bump show

princessy/nmyheart Am i the only one here thinks she’s going to name her child Anne?

jessicalauree So freaking adorable!!!!

y/n_leclerc

Liked by charles_leclerc and others

y/n_leclerc Throwback to our wedding day and honeymoon ❤️ @charles_leclerc

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theroyalnews

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theroyalnews

The Prince and Princess of Monte Carlo first public appearence since the announcement of Princess Y/n pregnancy. Princess Y/n appeared in public today with a long, flowing black velvet dress to hide her pregnant belly, it seems that Prince Charles has become a protective husband to his pregnant wife when he repeatedly refused to stand for too long at today's ceremony. Towards the end of the session, we had a chance to ask a few questions with Prince Charles and Princess Y/n.

"Prince Charles, how do you feel about today's ceremony?" “Well I feel very happy and excited at the ceremony today, it is a very important ceremony for my mother Queen Pascale” Prince Charles said, and I ask Princess Y/n “And Princess Y/n, how do you feel?” She answered “Since I'm pregnant right now, it's natural to feel tired but this is only a side effect and the main part is that we can enjoy this happy time together with the Royal Family”, “I have Just a few short questions, can the Prince and Princess answer a few questions for me?" “Of course” They both replied at the same time. “First question, surely you also know that the announcement of the pregnancy has shaken all the people with joy, right? So a few people emailed us asking us to ask you about the baby's gender was? Is this information that is allowed to be revealed?” Prince Charles nodded his head and answered my question “I know this is information that everyone is curious about, although we are the Prince and Princess of Monte Carlo, we must always adhere to the principles given by the royal family", Princess Y/n replied, "But of course we'll let everyone know as soon as we have the baby." She laughed, then I continued to ask the last question "Then Prince Charles and Princess Y/n have come up with any name for the royal baby yet?”, Princess Y/n replied, “Charles and I haven't come up with any name yet but we plan to name the baby with our traditional royal name", "Because she likes traditional names, I like more modern names, but I love her and the baby so the name will be decided by her" Charles said then both of them laughed.

What do think the Prince and Princess will name their baby? Leave us a comment about what you are thinking!

tag charles leclerc , y/n_leclerc

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diwkjd_ I guess they will name it Charlotte or Carlotta, easily Charlotte is a tradition name and its also Charlotte is female version of the name Charles… isn’t it cute

unclejamees I don’t know what they’ll name him/her but i just love the fact Princess Y/n chose to name their baby with royal tradition name

penelopejanes It’s definitly gonna be named Charlotte

⤷ jaada How are you so sure?

⤷ penelopejanes Idk, just so easy to guess, i mean Charlotte also royal tradition name tho

beaniw I got the opportunity today to talk with Prince Charles and Princess Y/n and they’re super nice and Charles is super protective of his wife lately

[ikeuverse]

MARRIAGE RING — p.jongseong

PAIRING: husband!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, angst, slight suggestive WC: 4.3k+

WARNINGS: mention of alcohol, partying and arguing. some swearing and implied mentions of having sex, but nothing detailed.

SYNOPSIS: you and your sister-in-law decide to throw a party to remember the old university days when you two threw the best parties on campus. everything would be perfect if it weren't for the incident of forgetting your wedding ring, and a totally pissed-off husband when one of the ex-students – who used to be the gallant – notices the missing jewel on your finger.

NOTES: as the winner of the vote, our beloved husband jay is here. i had this idea on a random day at work, with an almost similar situation with a colleague that works with me. i readapted and thought especially for this scenario. i was so nervous about writing to jay that i tried this four times until this final story came out. so, please, give lots of love. and i hope you like it!

masterlist

Your eyes roamed the entire place before they landed on Jay. A playful smile painted the boy's lips as he slowly approached you. As soon as one of his hands touched your waist, automatically your hand wrapped around his neck and let him brush his lips against yours.

"Enjoying the party?" he whispered against your lips before kissing them slowly, pulling away soon after.

"I guess Jiwoo could pick a better theme, huh?" you commented with a laugh, receiving another kiss from Jay.

Truth be told, you knew that your best friend and sister-in-law had always owned the best parties since your university days. Not least because you helped her prepare everything, so you knew how it always worked. But after two years of graduation, it never crossed your mind that she would throw a university-themed party.

"To remember the old times" you remember her saying when she called you to her house, bombarding you with information and asking for your help with the preparations. Just like in the old days.

You just laughed, because it was impossible to deny Park Jiwoo anything. Especially if she asked her fiancé, Heeseung, for help. He was a talker when he wanted to be and you knew him well, so having two talkers ask you for help was even more impossible to deny.

"Why a better subject? I think she chose well" Jay shrugged, balancing the cup in one hand while the other remained on your waist "Reminds you of old times."

"And you like it?" you asked curiously, Jay shrugged and lightly squeezed the fingers against your skin.

"I love it" he emphasized, leaning toward you after taking a sip of his drink. His lips were cold from the freshly consumed liquid, and you fought the urge to whimper when he kissed you once more. The hot breath tasted of vodka and some citrus fruit that you couldn't even identify, only feel the warmth of Jay's tongue fighting for dominance against yours. Before your lungs could clamor for air, he broke away, letting his forehead rest against yours.

"And give me one good reason why" you whispered, even though you knew he would hear over all that loud music because of the closeness of the two of you.

"Hm, let me see" he pretended to think for a moment, you laughed at his theatrics and Jay looked deep into your bright eyes "Because I met the woman of my life, who I married. Can you believe it?"

Your cheeks slowly began to burn, and you knew it wasn't from the alcohol because your glass had run out minutes before Jay arrived. And it couldn't have been just from a shared kiss with your husband, so you knew you were getting flushed.

Jay had that effect on you even after years of relationship, and even now, married.

"What a lucky woman" you said a little louder, kissing him again. Before you felt Jay's body quickly separate from you.

"Sorry about that, y/n. We need Jay now" Heeseung hummed, under protests from Jay for having to pull away from you.

"It's our beer pong, y/n. Just like old times" Jungwon smiled in your direction as he explained why they had taken Jay away. You laughed at your husband's little desperation, even though you did not object to staying.

"Now, it's just the two of us" Jiwoo came in surprise, hugging you by the shoulders "Just like old times, and forever and ever."

"Forever and ever" you smiled at her, hugging her back as you looked at the party around you.

Everything did look so nostalgic. From the decorations you helped Jiwoo buy, to even some of the familiar faces at the party. Your best friend made sure to think of everything, posting it online on the alumni wall of the university you attended for so many years. No sane person who knew the two of you would not be able to attend a party planned by the duo. So practically everyone who has ever had the pleasure of enjoying something prepared by you and her was there.

People greeted you as if you were still the little celebrities on campus, even if you didn't feel that way in the first place. Jiwoo was the little celebrity. Because he was part of the university media and had a super-cute, hot brother that practically every girl wanted. This last part always bothered you, but you started to think this way after Jay met you.

The wave of memories hit you, remembering exactly the day Jiwoo told you about his older brother and how horrible it was to have so many girls approaching her with an interest in him. You felt bad for her, and at the same time, you didn't believe her. Who would be so crazy about a person that they would approach someone out of interest? But once you got to know Jay, maybe you understood girls at least a little bit. Not that you did, because you were friends with Jiwoo even before you met Jay.

And that was the reason why the coming together of the two of you was so natural and even more approved by your sister and best friend. Because she knew that you were the only one not to do what almost all the girls on that campus tried to do.

You fell in love with Jay little by little, just as he fell in love with you until everything became love. Until your relationship stretched on for years and soon you both stood in front of the altar whispering yes as you exchanged rings.

That small object symbolically united the love you had for each other since the first day you met. With that you sighed heavily, your eyes glittering as you stared at Jiwoo at the present moment and your friend glared back at you.

"What? Are you emotional?"

"Yes" your breathing became a little shaky, so you had to take a deep breath to keep from crying "I was remembering us from the time we met."

"Really?" Jiwoo whined, now thinking of the day she saw you in the library cursing the old computer that wouldn't turn on at all. She ran to you and offered to help, handing you her laptop to finish a paper in your first semester. And that never separated you again.

"Yes, I swear" you squeezed her gently.

"I love you so much, best friend and sister-in-law in the world" Jiwoo dramatically threw his arms up in the air, then brought them back down only to hug you tightly. You laughed, returning her hug before you felt your best friend's hands slide down to your hands "Thank you for staying."

"I thank you for staying here" the drink was helping the little statements and you both just enjoyed it.

But before you could say anything else, Jiwoo's eyes widened when she ran her fingers through yours, her hands still together with both of yours.

"What?" you were startled by her expression, staring at her.

"Where's your wedding ring? You and Jay—"

Your eyes ran down to your fingers to see that your marriage ring wasn't there. A crushing tightness took over your chest and you could swear your vision blurred for a few seconds before you looked at Jiwoo again.

"Shit, I left it at home" both you and her eyes widened. Something seemed so simple, forgetting a marriage ring. But not a marriage ring that you knew Jay had worked so hard to buy and almost walked down the aisle with as he said a few words and put the ring on your finger.

"Now what?" before you could answer Jiwoo, your eyes quickly found Jay walking towards the two of you with the other boys this time.

"I managed to find you, ladies" he said cheerfully, looking at you and then at his own sister.

"How was the game?" Jiwoo asked, feeling the weight of Jay's arms on her shoulders.

"I had some weird juice that Jungwon made before we played" he grimaced as he remembered the taste, being followed by Heeseung's laughter.

"It wasn't as bad as Sunghoon" he laughed at the memory, really laughed "He drank pure vinegar."

Ew, you and Jiwoo hissed as they laughed at the poor guy who should be recovering from what happened.

"And you ladies, don't you want anything to drink?" Heeseung asked.

"We…" your gaze sought Jiwoo's quickly, trying to recover from the small shock of minutes ago. The boys, although consuming alcohol throughout the night, could tell that the two of you were hiding something.

"Hey Jay, I think we got in the middle of some important business" Heeseung hummed.

"Yeah, how about you two share with us?" he feigned innocence in his question, causing Jiwoo to snort at her brother and then at her fiancé, rolling her eyes afterward.

"You two are such busybodies, you know that?" she walked past them until she reached you, entwining her arm in yours "Me and y/n are going to go out and walk around a bit. Have fun."

She pulled you along even though she heard the two of them calling your names, but you both ignored it. Maybe walking around the place and even playing small talk with some familiar faces might get one of the two to think of some excuse in case Jay and Heeseung ran into them again.

"We just need to keep this out of your brother's eyes" you commented after they reached the kitchen, making sure that neither of them would be walking by anytime soon.

"I think Jay would freak out if he saw you without a marriage ring" she laughed, but felt bad after she met your worried eyes "Ok, sorry. We'll figure something out or not even touch the subject until you two get home."

You thanked her with a small nod, looking around the counter and searching for a clean glass. That scene repeated itself at almost every party, you and Jiwoo standing in the kitchen looking for something to drink while she told you some shocking subject and your gaze dribbled between your friend and the glasses on the counter to grab one and fill it up with booze. The thought made you laugh and she laughed along with you, even though she didn't know why.

And at that, Jiwoo got two glasses to fill them with something a little stronger than your previous drink. You wanted the same, so you didn't even dare to look for something else, just letting her prepare it while your hands played with the marble of the countertop.

"Jiwoo? Y/n?" the voice called out with such surprise that you both turned your necks at the same instant to the door of the room.

Your jaw dropped slightly in surprise when you found Ryan there. He was a nice guy from university, flirted with you both all the time, and even teased Heeseung and Jay once, pretending not to know that you two were engaged.

This resulted in Jay swearing at the boy and Heeseung almost punching him in the face if not for Sunghoon and Jake having to hold him down in the middle of the soccer field. After that Ryan didn't come any closer, at Sunghoon's request because he didn't want a heavy look on his team and much less at some future party that always took place every two weeks.

Now the boy was standing there, right in front of the two of you with a playful smile on his lips.

"Hey, Ryan. Back to nostalgia?" Jiwoo asked nonchalantly, finishing filling her glass and then finally handing over your own.

"I guess so" he moved closer to the counter, standing on the opposite side from where you two were standing. Maybe that distance was a little safer "The party of you two always being amazing. Even after university."

You two decided to agree, getting into whatever subject it was. And talking with Ryan suddenly seemed nice. Because he hadn't flirted, much less made the atmosphere as uncomfortable as it used to be. You and Jiwoo had completely forgotten that your partners had once almost hit the boy who was talking animatedly right in front of you.

"So" Ryan said after a while talking about his trip to Europe and how his current job was going "How are you and Heeseung doing?" he looked at Jiwoo. The passionate smile she gave him already gave everything away.

"We're doing so well" she sighed softly "Being engaged is wonderful, I can't wait to do the same as my brother."

And then she looked at you. Eyes shining in admiration and you smiled, taking the glass with the drink to your lips and taking a sip. Trying not to look so embarrassed because quickly the subject had turned to you.

"Uh, are you and Jay okay? I mean… The wedding…" Ryan said.

"Yeah, we're perfect" you placed your glass on the countertop, he narrowed his eyes at your words and leaned in a little. But you hadn't whispered anything after that.

"Then why don't I see a marriage ring on your finger?"

A brief moment of silence was interrupted by a loud gasp. Your gaze traced the figure of Jay standing right in the kitchen doorway. He had his jaw locked and sharp, looking crookedly at Ryan as he entered the kitchen.

"Jay" the boy greeted, but got no response more than a nod at him.

"Am I getting in the way of something?" he asked, you could feel the fury in his tone.

"No, we…" Jiwoo looked at you, searching for help to continue speaking.

"We were just leaving. We just came to get a drink, come on" you took Jay's hand and quickly ran from there. Without managing to say goodbye to Ryan, much less lookback. You also didn't know if Jiwoo was following you, but you knew that Jay had incredible strength when he pulled your hand and made you stop walking right in the middle of the hallway where you two were going.

The meeting of your body with his made Jay's face close to yours. The hard look and serious countenance still lingered on his face.

"I—" you began, but he interrupted you in the process.

"He doesn't see a marriage ring on your finger" Jay began and you knew he had heard everything. You were screwed "Why, y/n? Where's the fucking ring we shared?"

"Jay… Love…" you wanted to explain as smoothly as possible, but you knew it wouldn't work at that moment. So you just tried to smile as the words slid from your lips slowly at that moment "I ended up leaving at home—"

"Oh, right" Jay didn't let you finish, letting go of your body and taking a few steps away from you. Your brow furrowed as he reached for his own marriage ring and pulled it off his finger, putting it away in his pocket soon after "I forgot it tonight too. Enjoy the party, y/n."

And just as quickly as Jay reached you, he hurried away. You didn't know what had gotten into your husband to make him do that, but it had certainly made your blood boil, and consequently, your vision was blurred by the angry tears that threatened to fall.

You tried your best not to let the tears fall, but you faltered the moment you found Jiwoo at the party again. She knew something had happened as soon as she saw you stunned, seconds after seeing Jay walk through the door and out of the house without speaking to anyone.

"I don't want to hear it, just cry" she whispered as she hugged you, walking out with you from the crowd that didn't even seem to care about the two of you there. Too absorbed in dancing and drinking to pay attention to someone crying so late at night.

So you let her walk you to the bathroom, sobbing on your shoulder and telling you what had happened. Jiwoo cursed at Jay for what seemed like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes to get you to stop crying and listen to her carefully.

"I also fought with Heeseung because he saw Ryan at the party" she said after you had been quiet for a while, stroking your hair and encouraging you to look in the mirror to fix your newly smudged makeup.

"I don't know what made your brother do that" you gave a slight hiccup after washing your face a little, drying it, and trying to tidy your slightly messy hair.

Jiwoo sighed, giving a small smile at your rambling after you left the mirror. It was time for her to look and check that everything was presentable.

"So I guess I can take you home now" she spoke after you were done with everything and so was she, both came out of the bathroom to find Heeseung standing on the other side and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed "Damn, what a scare!"

He suppressed a smile, unbuckling himself from the wall to approach you and Jiwoo.

"I wanted to know if you two were okay" Heeseung tried not to comment on your crying appearance, and you thanked him for it "And I just called Jay, he's already home."

The couple's gaze hovered over you, and your uncontrollable urge to cry eventually returned. But it soon pulled away when you took a deep breath and looked back at them.

"I think I'll go too."

"Then we'll take you" Jiwoo looked at Heeseung, who smilingly agreed to his fiancée's request.

Without the strength or desire to refuse, because your ride was already at home, you accepted. And you let them drive you to your apartment in silence. Both of them respected your space while you fought back tears once again.

When the car stopped in front of your residence, you apologized so much to Jiwoo and Heeseung for leaving so this alone gave you the right to shed a few more tears before you entered the lobby of the building and ran to the elevator to your apartment. You didn't think about anything else, just wishing you a nice shower since it would be almost impossible to have any conversation with Jay that night.

And with that thought you opened the front door seeing that it was unlocked. Maybe he left it open because I don't have the keys, you thought and tried to make it happen without much ado.

Taking off your shoes in the hallway, you quickly ran into your room in silence, only to find Jay already lying on the bed. His attention, which had previously been on his cell phone, quickly ran to your figure standing in the bedroom doorway.

He didn't say anything, and neither did you. And that made you go straight to the shower without a conversation. Your mind wanders to how angry Jay's tone was when he spoke to you, then letting the water run down your body soaking your skin and hair. Thinking of the hurt look he had given you as soon as you arrived. Was he resentful? Was he hurt? You didn't know. And you couldn't know without a conversation, even if it didn't happen right now.

Washing your hair and body, after a long time, you turned off the shower and got ready for bed. It was the bare minimum. Your whole body was aching and only your bed would be able to ease that, even though your taste would be to have Jay's arms as well, you would settle for just your covers for one night.

When you came out of the bathroom, your eyes ran to the figure of your husband still sitting on the bed and leaning back against the headboard. It made you sigh, he didn't even move, you thought.

Trying to put the thought out of your mind, your steps went to your dressing table and that's when the vision hit you. Your marriage ring was right there. The small, shiny ring that you and Jay had equally, was right up there. And that reminded you of why.

Swallowing dryly with the lump forming in your throat, you took the ring and returned to your ring finger in moments, stroking it gently as you turned toward your bed. Walking slowly, you noticed that Jay was fighting the urge to look at you, but his eyes remained on his cell phone the entire time.

Would he give in? Was being alone having any effect on him at all? And like a still university feeling from the recent party, you made your way to the bed and went to your usual bedside. But before you could lie down or do anything, your body slid down and your legs steadied as you sat on Jay's lap.

"What…" he dropped the cell phone at the same second, looking up to meet your eyes.

A twinge in his chest hurt like a knife, looking up at the bright red orbs that stared back at him.

"What are you doing?" he managed to ask properly, his hands hovering beside his own body on the mattress still hesitant to touch you.

You lay still for a few minutes, staring at every point on Jay's face. His tight, well-defined jaw, his adam's apple rising and falling as he swallowed dry. Every little part of his tanned, well-washed skin, the damp hair against his forehead giving a final charm.

Your face tilted just enough so that your forehead brushed against Jay's, closing your eyes in the process as his breath grew heavy against your skin.

"The ring was left up there when I did my makeup earlier today" you began whispering, your hands slowly coming up until you held Jay's face between them "And from what I remember, I couldn't finish it because I was interrupted."

Jay could feel his cheeks burn this time, knowing that the culprit had been him. Arriving home early from work and excited because his sister was having a party, he knew that you would be getting ready much sooner than expected, especially since you would soon be leaving to help your sister-in-law with the preparations. He had to take a shower to get all the tension out of the day and also accompany you, staying there and not having to come back later.

But seeing you in that robe while applying makeup was too much for Jay's poor mind to think about. And the only thought was to untie the fabric from your body and take you for a second shower. This resulted in a delay, and you ran so fast to find Jiwoo that you hadn't even finished the second batch of makeup. All because your husband had taken too much time with you in the shower before they left.

"I—"

"You acted like a dumb university student, Jongseong."

"Hey!" Jay felt a strange sensation when you called him by his real name, knowing that it was only used on extremely serious occasions. That one was, indeed.

His hands had reached your waist in the middle of the conversation, his fingers playing with the fabric of your pajamas shyly while he too had his eyes closed.

"I'm sorry" he said, making you open your eyes. When you uncrossed your forehead from his, Jay also opened his eyes to get a better look at you "I'm sorry that I got a fucking idiot jealous and it got out of control."

His words suddenly faded, lost in Jay's eyes as his caress on your waist ran one hand up your back, while the other went straight to your face. Holding your cheek gently.

"I didn't mean to do what I did and I regret it so much because, I swear, I lost my mind at that moment" Jay let his thumb trace the entire line of your jaw before fitting his hand perfectly between your neck and the back of your head "And I hurt the woman of my life. Seriously y/n, seeing you like this is the last thing I want in this world."

"Then believe me, Jay" you whispered as low as you could, fearing to cry again in front of him "Believe me I would never do that to you, because it's not my intention."

"I know, love" Jay pressed his lips to your chin, moving up to your mouth to slowly seal your lips against his "Forgive me for being a shit tonight, I didn't mean to ruin the night."

"You're forgiven for being a shit" you chuckled softly when he murmured in 'hey', and quickly your hands went to his shoulders, where you managed to steady yourself a little more on Jay's lap "Please promise me one thing."

"Whatever you want" he whispered against your lips as you leaned in close.

"Don't act on impulse when you're jealous" your mouth blew a warm breath against his, making Jay sigh next "I don't like that version of you."

He swallowed dryly once again, his chest crunching with regret as a nod was given in response. Even though no words could express how sorry Jay was about the whole situation.

"Now, I need something" he hugged you around the waist after a while, pressing your body against his in such a welcoming way that you didn't even notice the moment Jay reversed positions, placing you lying against the mattress to hover over your body.

"Sure. What do you need?" you said after a euphoric giggle at having been taken by surprise when you lay down and had Jay's body right above yours.

He then leaned in, connecting your lips in a quick kiss before pulling away just enough to whisper against your mouth.

"I need a second round to prove how sorry I am…"

"Park Jongseong!" your hysterical shout cheered him, making Jay laugh as he pressed you against him. This time the name hadn't left his lips for a bad reason.

He really wanted to redeem himself, to entwine your hands with his and join your wedding rings as he enjoyed the whole evening with you.

© ikeuverse, 2023. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[sissa-arrows]

Just got an ask from someone who wants to stay anonymous asking me why Algeria doesn’t sue and ask for reparation.

It’s simply because France made it impossible. Basically whenever there was a massacre France would burn or hide the proof especially the registers of births and deaths. When they left they also took a lot of archives and they refuse to give us access to those archives. The law actually says that archives must be made fully public after 50 years. Well guess what? The majority of the archives related to Algeria are still not public and its been 61 years. At first they promised to make them public. Then they said they had to check each page before making it public in case there some stuff that should stay classified. Then they decided that if in a box there’s just one single page that says “classified” then no page from said box can be made public. All of that for one simple reason. France voted a law giving a full amnesty for the colonial crimes committed by the French in Algeria. That law means that nobody can be judged for anything they did to Algerians during the war (let alone before the war). The only way for that law to be considered illegal is if the colonial crimes committed by France in Algeria are officially labeled as a crime against humanity. Because amnesty is not valid for a crime against humanity. That’s why they hide the archives because they prove that there was indeed a crime against humanity and that would force France to pay back for what they did.

Basically imagine there’s a murderer and everyone knows he did it he says that he did it but you still need the evidence for the trial… except the murderer has the evidence everyone knows he has them he says he has them but he can choose which one he keeps and which one he shows… France is the murderer in this scenario.

P.S: I talk about Algeria because I’m Algerian and because the situation was very specific but France should pay for ALL its colonial crimes (settler colonialism is very different because it’s a form of colonialism that doesn’t see indigenous people as merchandise or cheap labor they are seen as a threat something to be eradicated)