#guess that’s why i’m still here! how about you?

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

part one

“so how was your first day?” robin asks steve as he slides onto the barstool next to her and chrissy.

“it actually wasn’t that bad,��� steve shrugs before taking a long pull from the freshly opened bottle the bartender slides his way.

“it wasn’t that bad?” chrissy asks, incredulous. “so he didn’t make you go to the erewhon all the way across town? the one he goes to because selena gomez was seen there once?”

“that’s why he made me go there?”

“yeah, he really likes that one movie she’s in.”

steve thinks for a moment. “the dead don’t die?”

“no, the one with the dancing,” chrissy snorts.

steve makes a face and then shrugs again. “i made him his breakfast, i drove him around, i organized his tshirt closet… pretty standard stuff for an assistant.”

“you organized his tshirt closet? what the fuck does that even mean?” robin asks, laughing.

“exactly what it sounds like,” steve grins at her. “anyway, really, it wasn’t that bad. sure, he’s insufferable but not anything i couldn’t handle. don’t worry about it.”

“well, thanks for doing this,” chrissy says. “vickie handled it for a while, but i guess once you’ve been fired twelve times in the course of six months, you have to draw a boundary with the thirteenth.”

“it’s really not a big deal, it’s not like i’m doing it for free,” steve responds. “the money is more than worth it.”

“still, i know how he can be. but he’s really not so bad. once he’s… comfortable.” chrissy frowns.

“whatever,” steve shrugs for a third time. “i’m just here for the cash.” he winks and gives her a reassuring smile.

~*~

the next morning, steve pulls up to eddie’s huge beverly hills mansion bright and early, just as he had yesterday. he punches in the gate code, waves to the security guy on duty, and makes his way inside to the kitchen.

eddie storms in while steve is halfway through cooking another omelette, this time with tomatoes and onions and freshly grated cheddar cheese.

“i don’t care, wheeler, i’m not making a fucking appearance and i’m definitely not doing it with him,” eddie snarls into the phone pressed to his face. he hasn’t seemed to notice that steve’s in his house again.

eddie waits for whoever it is on the phone to speak before he says, “well maybe i don’t want to fix it. maybe this is it,” and then hangs up the phone. he lets out a frustrated little scream before he turns to leave the kitchen, finally noticing steve by the stove. “you’re back,” he says, voice monotone.

“i’m back,” steve smiles, sliding the plate full of food across the large island toward him. eddie looks down at it like he’s surprised. “eat,” steve tells him.

“another sweater vest?” eddie sneers instead of picking up his fork.

“i like them,” steve shrugs, still smiling.

eddie rolls his eyes. “whatever,” he mutters and then picks up the plate and retreats from the kitchen.

~*~

eddie is deeply annoyed by how good steve’s omelettes are. he practically licks the plate clean when he’s finished, which only serves to make his bad mood worse.

“can i take your plate?” steve asks from the doorway of the living room.

“jesus christ, man, wear a fucking bell,” eddie grumbles before holding out the plate, forcing steve to walk across the room to the couch and take it from him.

“i’ll remember to announce myself from now on,” steve replies. “chrissy just called; you have another meeting with the pr team this afternoon. we’ll leave here in about an hour.”

eddie doesn’t respond and steve goes quietly back to the kitchen.

~*~

eddie tries to confuse steve with the directions to nancy’s office again, mostly just to annoy him since the car has a built in gps. steve ignores eddie, leaving him to play on his phone in the back seat. the windows are tinted dark, just how eddie likes it & it lulls him into a false sense of security to where he’s almost relaxed by the time they get to nancy’s office.

the meeting is a fucking drag. it’s just a rehashing of the morning’s phone call and eddie had already made himself perfectly clear. he’s not willing to fix anything. nancy and chrissy try to double-team him, begging him to think about the tour & the album roll-out & the rest of the band. the entertainment blogs are running wild with the rumors circulating about the other night and now they’re digging up shit that he wishes would stay buried.

“absolutely fucking not,” eddie spits out. “i refuse to be fucking cordial with that moron.”

“fine,” nancy says finally. “i guess we’re done here then.” she gets up from the head of the conference room table and leaves through the big glass doors and the rest of her team takes that as their cue to leave, too.

chrissy levels him with a look, waiting until the last intern has left the room before speaking.

“eddie, i know you’re pissed right now. trust me, i would be too,” she says, using that tone eddie always hates—the one that makes it sound like she’s trying to placate a rabid dog. “but the label has invested a lot of money into you and they need you to put in some work right now. take a minute, take a breath, and then we’ll talk again. but we need to respond; we can figure out what that looks like. i’ll talk to nance… maybe we don’t need a joint appearance. maybe you can just make a statement.”

eddie knows there are a ton of people relying on this tour & this upcoming album. he knows the band doesn’t deserve the hit from this. but what is there to even say? he’s just so fucking angry about it.

“fine. i’ll make an appearance. but i won’t, under any circumstances, be seen with him,” eddie tells her firmly. he slides his sunglasses back onto his face before pushing himself out of his chair and making his way over to the door. “just tell me when and where. and make sure nancy doesn’t make me sound like a fucking idiot.”

“great,” chrissy smiles so bright she looks like a teenager again. “i’ll talk to nancy. we’ll figure it out.”

any reassurance eddie feels is washed away by a renewed sense of annoyance when he sees steve waiting for him in the lobby, still wearing his pastel yellow sweater vest, drinking a purple smoothie from a straw and scrolling on his phone. he’s laughing at something on the screen and the sunlight comes through the huge front windows just right, making him glow golden, and eddie just feels something inside him twist unpleasantly.

steve looks up then to see eddie coming, but eddie breezes past him to the sidewalk. steve jumps up to follow, handing the valet their ticket. when the car finally pulls up, eddie says, “no liquids in the car,” before sliding into the back seat.

he sees steve shrug before smiling at the valet and handing him his half empty smoothie to dispose of and a tip.

the car ride home is silent. eddie practically leaps from the car before it’s even come to a stop when they pull into the driveway. there are packages on the table in the foyer, likely brought in by the security guy at the gate. “grab those,” eddie tells steve with a wave of his hand.

steve follows eddie into the kitchen, arms laden with paper bags and boxes. most of it, eddie knows, is free product and merch, stuff he never uses and mostly stuff he doesn’t even want. steve places the packages on the counter and watches as eddie sifts through them, clearly looking for something.

“do you want lunch?” steve asks. eddie ignores him, finally finding the package he’d ordered earlier today. he flings it across the kitchen island toward steve on the other side.

steve catches the package in his hands and arches an eyebrow.

“open it,” eddie tells him, nodding at paper wrapping. he opens the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and takes a long sip as he watches steve’s fingers tear at the brown paper.

once the package is open, steve huffs out a laugh, barely a breath, before holding up a bright pink cat collar with a tiny bell attached. he shakes it in the air, making the bell tinkle. the collar clearly will not fit him.

“fuck you, man,” steve says, still smiling.

“fuck you, too,” eddie says.

and then he leaves the kitchen.

[carnalcrows]

BREAKING THE RULES - NAMGYU

pairing: ftm namgyu x guard! top! male reader

synopsis: Nam-gyu makes life even harder in the games; and he makes sure you know it.

content warnings: 18+, slightly ooc namgyu, thanos doesn't exist here, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, mentions of pregnancy, breeding, squirting, creampie.

word count: 1.9k

Nam-gyu was a menace. Not in a violent way—no, he wasn’t the type to throw punches or scheme behind people's backs. He was just loud. Chaotic. Endlessly pushing his luck in ways that made your job infinitely harder.

You, one of the masked guards, had the misfortune of being assigned to watch over him.

“Oh, come on, do you really have to stand so close?” Nam-gyu whined, sprawled out on the cold metal bunk, looking up at you with an exaggerated pout. “You’re like my own personal shadow. It’s creepy.”

You didn’t respond. Guards weren’t supposed to talk to the players.

But Nam-gyu? He didn’t give a fuck about rules.

“Are you at least hot under that mask?” he continued, squinting up at you. “Tall, broad, mysterious—what’s under there? A secret K-drama heartthrob?”

Your lips twitched under the mask, but you stayed silent.

Then he gasped. “Wait, what if you’re ugly? Oh my god, what if you’re, like, a forty-year-old uncle with bad skin?”

You exhaled sharply, already regretting what you were about to do. “Shut up and sleep.”

Nam-gyu sat up so fast he nearly smacked his head on the bunk above. “Ohhh? He speaks! And—wait, wait, that was deep—oh my god, are you hot?”

You turned away, cursing yourself.

“Wait, at least tell me if you’re single!” he whisper-yelled.

Despite the life-or-death situation, Nam-gyu never stopped flirting with you.

During the games, when most players were drenched in sweat and panic, he still managed to shoot you little smirks like this was all some messed-up dating show.

After a particularly brutal round, he was doubled over, panting, hands on his knees. But even then, he looked up at you, grinning through the exhaustion.

“If I survive this, you owe me a date.”

“You’re not supposed to talk to me,” you reminded him.

His grin widened. “And yet… you keep answering.”

The first time you really broke the rules was when you caught him wandering the hallways after curfew.

You found him leaning casually against the wall like he wasn’t committing a punishable offense.

“You know you’re not supposed to be out,” you sighed, arms crossed.

“Oops,” he said, not looking the least bit sorry. “Guess I got lost. You're gonna punish me?”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. The way he leaned in slightly, the way his voice dropped lower—it was all intentional.

“Get back to your room before someone sees,” you ordered, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck.

Nam-gyu tilted his head. “You gonna carry me there, big guy?”

You groaned, grabbing his arm and dragging him back to the dorms. He didn’t resist. If anything, he definitely enjoyed it.

One night, during your usual patrol, his voice whispered through the dark.

“Psst. Guard dude. Come here.”

Against your better judgment, you stepped closer to his bunk. “What?”

“You’re my favorite guard,” he murmured, a lazy grin on his lips.

“I’m the only guard who tolerates you,” you corrected.

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “That means something.”

Then, his fingers ghosted over your gloved hand. A barely-there touch.

“If I die tomorrow,” he said softly, voice losing its usual playfulness, “I just want you to know—I totally had a crush on you.”

Your heart pounded harder than it should have.

At some point, you gave in.

Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was the fact that Nam-gyu was so damn persistent. But you found yourself alone with him in a supply closet one night.

“This is so against the rules,” you muttered, hands gripping his waist as he smirked up at you.

“Then why haven’t you stopped me?” he teased, breath warm against your mask.

You exhaled sharply. “Because you won’t shut up otherwise.”

“Ohhh, so this is how you make me quiet?” he grinned, fingers trailing over your chest. “Noted.”

The moment was charged, the air thick with something neither of you wanted to name. Nam-gyu was pressed against the shelves of the dimly lit supply closet, his breath uneven as he stared up at you with that maddening smirk.

"You gonna stand there all night, big guy?" he murmured, voice teasing but breathy. "Or are you actually gonna do something?"

Your grip on his waist tightened involuntarily. This was reckless—so reckless—but Nam-gyu had spent days, weeks even, pushing you to this point. Testing your patience, pulling you into his orbit, and now that he had you where he wanted you, he wasn’t about to let go.

You exhaled sharply, then tilted his chin up with two fingers. His smirk faltered, replaced by something else—anticipation, maybe.

And then you kissed him.

Nam-gyu let out a surprised noise before melting into it, arms sliding up to grip your shoulders. His lips were warm and eager, moving against yours with a desperation that made your head spin. He kissed like he talked—relentlessly, all-consuming, like he wanted to prove something.

You didn’t let him.

Instead, you took control, deepening the kiss, pressing him further against the shelves. A soft gasp escaped him when your fingers dug into his waist, grounding him. His hands fisted in your uniform, pulling you closer, as if there was any space left between you.

"You’re—so unfair," he mumbled between kisses, voice slightly dazed.

"You talk too much," you muttered, capturing his lips again before he could come up with another snarky remark.

Nam-gyu didn’t fight it. If anything, he clung to you even more, tilting his head to give you better access. His breath hitched when your hands roamed lower, fingers pressing into the curve of his back, holding him steady against you.

The heat between you was overwhelming, the danger of getting caught only making it worse. But neither of you cared. Not when he was sighing into your mouth, not when his fingers tangled in your hair, not when the world outside this little room ceased to exist.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. Nam-gyu blinked up at you, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"You’re really bad at following rules," he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

You exhaled, resting your forehead against his. "And you’re really bad at shutting up."

Nam-gyu grinned. "Guess we make a good team, then."

And somehow, you knew there was no going back.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and way too heated for your own good, he chuckled.

“You’re really bad at following rules,” he teased, straightening his uniform.

You adjusted your mask, trying to calm your racing heart. “And you’re really bad at shutting up.”

“Guess we make a good team, then.”

You should’ve been worried. You should’ve been more careful. But when Nam-gyu looked at you like that—like you were the only thing keeping him sane in this nightmare—you knew there was no going back.

The next morning, you tried to pretend nothing had happened.

You stood at your usual post, arms crossed, mask in place, as if Nam-gyu hadn’t kissed you breathless in a supply closet.

But he wasn’t about to let you forget. Oh no.

He sauntered into the cafeteria, stretching his arms dramatically.

“Man, I had the craziest dream last night,” he said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

You tensed.

“So there I was, trapped in a tiny room with this huge guy,” Nam-gyu continued, resting his chin in his palm. “And let me tell you—he had strong hands. Held me real tight, y’know?”

You clenched your fists.

The other players gave him a weird look. “Uh… what kinda dream was that?”

Nam-gyu sighed, all fake wistfulness. “A good one.” Then, without looking at you, he added, “Shame it was just a dream.”

You walked out, shaking your head.

That night, you found him again where he wasn’t supposed to be—this time, loitering near the guard dorms.

“You want to get caught, don’t you?” you sighed, grabbing his arm.

“Maybe,” he grinned, stepping closer. “Or maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You tried to ignore the way your pulse jumped. “You’re reckless.”

“And you’re obsessed with following rules,” he teased, tilting his head. “Except when it comes to me.”

You really should’ve pushed him away. Instead, you backed him against the wall.

“Go back to your room,” you ordered, voice low.

“Make me,” he whispered.

And oh, you did.

Your hands slammed against the wall on either side of Nam-gyu’s head, caging him in. His breath hitched, but that damn smirk never left his face. He thrived off this—the tension, the danger, the way you always swore you wouldn’t fall for his games but did anyway.

“Say that again,” you murmured, your voice dropping into something dangerously low.

Nam-gyu’s lashes fluttered, and for the first time, a flicker of nervous excitement crossed his face. But he was never one to back down. “Make me,” he repeated, this time softer, more breathless.

Your patience snapped.

Your lips crashed against his, claiming him in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Nam-gyu gasped, his fingers instantly tangling in your uniform, gripping the fabric like he needed to steady himself. You could feel his heartbeat hammering against your own, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths as you pressed even closer.

He tasted like trouble, and you had never wanted anything more.

Nam-gyu let out a muffled whimper as your hand slid down to his waist, pulling him flush against you. He was so much smaller than you, but he didn’t shy away—if anything, he leaned in, arching slightly as if daring you to take more.

Your hands trailed to the hem of his sweats, tugging them and his boxers down to reveal– his pussy? You certainly didn’t expect that.

“See– I probably should’ve mentioned this earlier but–”

You silenced him with another kiss, deeper this time, your hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. His breath hitched when your teeth grazed his bottom lip, his body trembling against you.

Hastily pulling your own pants down, you pulled out your erection– aligning it with his cunt. Common sense had gone too far out the window now– you were too horny to care.

Before he could say anything, you sheathed yourself inside of him with one swift thrust– making his head hit the wall behind him. He gasped– and you used the opportunity to press your lips to his once more, preventing him from making any of those pretty noises (which you so desperately wanted to hear– but it was too dangerous now).

You pulled out of his cunt almost all the way before slamming back in– the head of your cock almost entering his cervix. His back arched– hands gripping tightly onto your shoulders.

You thrusted in and out of him at an almost animalistic pace– being pent up for so long certainly had its advantages.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck– and used the hand that wasn’t holding him up to cover his mouth– muffling his whimpers and moans, almost divine music to your ears.

Without warning– he climaxed, squirting all over your cock and the front of your uniform. Seeing him come undone did it for you– and you released soon after– pressing into him with such ferociousness and painting his insides a pearly white that he was sure he was going to get pregnant.

After a solid minute– you slowly pulled out of him, still keeping him upright. His head sagged onto your shoulder, the exhaustion getting to his head.

The sudden sound of approaching footsteps made you freeze.

The door to the small room opened– and outside was none other than Square Guard 001.

You were fucked.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[pigfartsviatardis]

It’s actually driving me fucking insane :) :) :) yesterday I mentioned to my dad - who has definitely expressed some ignorant views in recent years but has generally leaned left and always acknowledged that Trump is a raging twat - how awful it was that those plane crashes in the US happened, and then I said something about Trump shifting blame.

My dad was like ‘oh we don’t know why those crashes happened’. And I was like ‘I mean we know air traffic control were understaffed and we know he and his staff were cutting air traffic control staff literally the week before… so…’ and he went ‘well we still don’t actually know’. Like. What.

Then when I incredulously asked if he’s aware of all the shit trump’s been pulling since being sworn in, he just said ‘yeah I watch the news… but I do like this department of government efficiency thing, and I think we need that here to look into things like people without disabilities using disabled parking permits’.

At this point I was regretting the conversation so so much. But I said ‘you know Trump is 100% just using that as a smokescreen to get rid of things he doesn’t like???’ and my dad just kind of scoffed.

Anyway I didn’t discuss it any further because I truly wouldn’t know what to say or do if he actually came out to me as a Trump supporter. Like wow I guess the turntables (I’m gay and my mum was very lesbophobic when I was younger… ironically these days it’s now looking like she might be the more progressive one of my parents) 💀💀💀

It's crazy like truly truly bug fuck insane how Republicans are just immune to criticism. For the past 4 years anything that could even kind of be blamed on Joe Biden was and anything that couldn't be blamed when Joe Biden also was blamed on Joe Biden. He was the one who made that boat crash into that ship. Pete Buttigieg personally derailed that train in East Palestine. Mere days after Donald Trump fired a lot of people from the FAA and instituted a hiring freeze the worst aviation disaster in America since 9/11 happened and if you connect those two facts every single Republican will act like you are some sort of ghoulish political ambulance chaser. And it's not even exclusive to conservative/Republican circles, conservative people blame all of the world's problems on the Democratic party and progressive people blame all the world's problems on the Democratic party. It's just fucking galling how the public refuses to hold any Republican accountable for literally anything ever.

[wondergirlsthings]

Lando Norris Goes Through My Phone…He Wasn’t Ready for This

Lando Norris x Reader

Lando sits next to you on the couch, holding your phone with a devilish grin. “Alright, I finally get to go through your phone. Are you nervous?”

You force a casual smile. “Nope, nothing to worry about.”

Lando squints at you, already suspicious. “You’re way too calm… I don’t trust this.”

Ignoring him, you hand over your phone, and he immediately goes to your search history. His eyes widen as he reads the first thing out loud. “‘How to win an argument with your boyfriend.’”

You groan, covering your face. “That was for science!”

Lando smirks. “Yeah? Did it work?”

You roll your eyes. “Clearly not, since you’re still talking.”

Lando gasps dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Wow. I feel attacked.” He scrolls further, and suddenly, he starts cackling. “‘How to convince your boyfriend to get a cat without him realizing it.’”

He turns to you, completely betrayed. “I KNEW you were plotting something.”

You burst out laughing. “You would’ve thanked me eventually!”

Shaking his head, he keeps going. “Oh, here’s a good one. ‘Can you survive on iced coffee and vibes alone?’” He looks up at you. “Are you okay?”

You shrug. “Look, I was having a crisis.”

Lando snorts before moving on. “Alright, let’s check your notes app. Let’s see what you’ve got hidden in here.” He clicks it open, his face going completely still as he reads something. Then, suddenly, he bursts out laughing. “‘Mrs. Norris 💍’—WAIT, WHAT?!”

Your eyes widen in horror as you lunge for your phone. “OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Lando dodges you, still laughing uncontrollably. “Oh my god, I caught you simping for me!”

You groan, covering your face. “I forgot that was even in there!”

Lando grins. “Oh, I’m never letting this go.”

Before you can argue, he suddenly gasps again. “Wait, why do you have a whole list of my favorite foods? And… hold on—‘Gift ideas for Lando’?! Are you secretly the best girlfriend ever?”

Your face burns with embarrassment as you try to grab your phone again. “STOP LOOKING.”

Lando holds it away, fake wiping a tear. “I’m actually touched. This is adorable.”

You shake your head. “I regret this so much.”

Lando finally hands your phone back, still smirking. “Well, if you’re already practicing writing my last name, I guess I should start looking at rings.”

You gasp, shoving him playfully as he bursts out laughing.

[TikTok cuts to the comments section going wild]

Top comment: “not her already manifesting being Mrs. Norris 😭😭”

Second comment: “the way Lando actually found out she’s the best gf ever 💀”

Third comment: “WHY DID HE LOWKEY LIKE THE RING COMMENT?! 👀😂”

[nameless-jamie]

✨💖 The vibes of your writing are immaculate. And I love your series and the new chapters. Would you ever write about an anxious/ shy reader?

Blush

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! shy receptionist reader

TW: cursing, kissing

A/N: Are you ready for a looooong one? Thank you for the request! I had a whole field-day writing this because I myself am pretty shy in real life. That's why it is veeery long. I actually also had another few paragraphs of the morning after their date, but I edited it out because I guess it would've been too long.

The AFC Richmond front desk was Y/N’s safe space. She had a whole routine. Come in early, set up at the front desk, answer calls, and avoid unnecessary conversations. She liked her job as a receptionist—AFC Richmond had always felt like a family, even if she sometimes felt like the quiet cousin at the reunion. She had her friends, though: Will, the ever-cheerful kit man, Roy Kent, who, for some reason, had taken a liking to her despite his usual grumpy demeanor and of course Keeley!

Most people in the club were kind enough to respect that she wasn’t the most talkative person, even though it is literally her job to greet people.

Jamie Tartt was not most people.

Jamie was… different. Not in the way Roy was—gruff but secretly soft. Not in the way Ted Lasso was—easygoing and goofy. Jamie was loud, confident, and impossible to ignore. And worst of all, he had somehow decided she was his new favorite person to talk to.

“Alright, love?”

She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. That familiar, cocky voice sent a nervous jolt straight through her. Slowly, she lifted her head, only to find Jamie leaning against her desk, arms crossed, signature smirk in place. It was too early in the morning for that level of handsomeness. Yup, Y/N had a crush on Jamie since she started working here. But, oh no, she would never make a move or even show it.

He grinned. “Hi, Jamie,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “C’mon, you gotta give me more than that. Thought we were mates by now.”

Mates. Right. Because that was a normal way to describe their dynamic—Jamie showing up at her desk every day, teasing her until she was a flustered mess, then walking away like it was just another training session.

Y/N cleared her throat, fingers tightening on her pen. “Do you… need something?”

Jamie tilted his head. “Nah. Just here to check in on my favorite receptionist.”

She bit her lip. “I’m the only receptionist.”

“That’s what makes it so easy.” He winked. “Just wanted to see you.”

God, he was relentless. And it wasn’t just the flirting—it was how easy he made it look, how effortlessly charming he was. Her face went hot instantly, and she ducked her head, pretending to be very interested in the email she had already finished.

Every time he saw her, he had some new way to fluster her, whether it was winking at her from across the hallway, complimenting her dress, or just plain staring at her until she got nervous.

It wasn’t fair. He was a world-class footballer, and she was… well, the receptionist.

Before she could figure out how to respond, Will the kitman appeared, grinning. “Oh, is this the daily ‘Jamie makes Y/N blush’ session? Should I be taking bets?”

“Shut up, Will,” she mumbled, burying her face in her hands.

Jamie, completely unfazed, smirked. “You should. I’d win every time.”

Roy walked by just then, glancing at the scene before stopping. He squinted at Jamie, then looked at Y/N, who was still avoiding eye contact.

“What the fuck is goin’ on here? Is the prick bothering you?”

“Actually...Jamie’s bullying me,” Y/N blurted out and pointed at the latter, because she found it funny how Jamie shrunk in Roy's presence. She can be a tease if she wants to.

Jamie clutched his chest like he's been shot. “Bullying? Me? Love, I’m flirting. If I was bullying ya, you’d be crying.”

“I don't like any of you, but you,” Roy jabbed a finger at Jamie. “Quit makin’ her uncomfortable, Tartt.”

Jamie held up his hands in mock surrender. “She’s not uncomfortable. Are ya, love?”

Y/N hated that the question made her heart race. He was looking at her like she was the only person in the room, like her answer actually mattered.

“No! I mean—well—I—I mean, it’s fine,” she mumbled.

Jamie grinned like she had just told him she loved him. “See? She likes me.” Roy groaned.

Roy let out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re both fuckin’ idiots.” Then he jabbed a finger at Jamie. “Quit pissin’ her off.”

“Never,” Jamie shot back cheerfully.

Roy muttered something under his breath and stomped off.

Will snickered. “Roy’s gonna end up chaperoning your first date at this rate.”

Y/N let out a strangled noise. “There is no first date!”

Jamie, though, just smirked. “Not yet.” Then he winked and strolled off, leaving her an absolute, blushing mess at the front desk.

The next few days were worse.

Ever since Jamie’s little not yet comment, Y/N had been on high alert. She tried to convince herself that he was just joking, just messing with her like he always did. But then he started upping his game.

It wasn’t enough that he stopped by her desk every morning—no, now he had to wink at her across the hallway, greet her with a Good mornin’, love like he was starring in some kind of rom-com, and worst of all, he started waiting for her after work.

The first time it happened, she thought it was a coincidence.

“Oi, you’re taking really long,” Jamie said, leaning against the front doors of the clubhouse, arms crossed as she finally stepped outside.

She blinked. “What… are you doing here?”

“Waitin’ for ya, obviously,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “S’not safe for a pretty little thing like you to walk alone.”

Y/N nearly tripped over her own feet. “I—I always walk alone.”

Jamie frowned like this was a deeply troubling fact. “Well, that’s fuckin’ tragic, innit?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Colin and Isaac, who where the last to leave besides the locker room, grinned. “Ooooh, bodyguard Jamie.”

Jamie smirked. “Damn right.”

“You’re not my bodyguard. He's really not.” Y/N muttered in her soft voice, slinging her bag around her shoulder.

Jamie only grinned wider. “Nah, but I could be.”

Colin gave her a pointed look. “You should just let him walk you home. You know he’s not gonna give up.”

Y/N sighed. They were both right—Jamie Tartt was nothing if not persistent.

So, against her better judgment, she let Jamie walk her home.

And then he did it again. And again.

And again.

By the end of the week, it was just a part of her routine, like he had wormed his way in without her even realizing. He’d meet her at the doors, hands in his pockets, waiting for her like he had all the time in the world. They’d talk, mostly about silly things—Jamie complaining about Roy, Y/N teasing him about his shoe obsession, Jamie trying to make her laugh.

And she did laugh. More than she had in a long time.

Which was exactly why it was terrifying.

Because Jamie Tartt was flirty, and charming, and kind, and so out of her league that it was almost funny.

And yet…

She caught him looking at her sometimes. Not in the way most guys did, not like she was just another girl to conquer. It was softer, something she couldn’t quite place. Like he actually liked being around her.

Which was ridiculous. Right?

She was still trying to make sense of it all when, one afternoon, the teasing from the team finally reached its peak.

She was organizing paperwork at her desk when Dani Rojas, Sam Obisanya, and Colin strolled past.

“Sooo, Jamie and the receptionist,” Dani said in a sing-song voice.

Y/N froze. Oh no.

Colin grinned. “Yup, they’d be cute together.”

“I think they are already together,” Sam added thoughtfully.

Y/N choked on absolutely nothing. “Uhm- No actually we are not together.”

Dani gasped. “But he walks you home every night!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

Sam and Colin exchanged a knowing look.

“But you like him,” Colin said, pointing at her.

“No, I don’t.”

“You do,” Sam said. “And he definitely likes you.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but then—

“I definitely like who?”

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

The universe hated her. That was the only explanation for why Jamie Tartt had appeared at the exact worst moment, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Dani beamed. “We were just talking about how you and Y/N like each other.”

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Jamie, to his credit, didn’t even blink. He just turned to her, a slow, smug grin spreading across his face.

“I mean, I do.” he said, then turned to her. “That true, love, you like me?”

Y/N clenched her jaw, face burning. “I don't like any of you.” She mumbled.

Colin grinned. “That’s not a no.”

Jamie chuckled, eyes locked on her. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll admit it eventually.”

And then, just like always, he winked and walked off, leaving her to suffer.

Dani patted her shoulder sympathetically and ran out the door. “You should just date him.”

“I should just quit,” she muttered to herself.

But we all know she wouldn’t.

And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t really want to.

Y/N had two choices this next week:

Continue pretending that Jamie Tartt wasn’t blatantly flirting with her every single day.

Accept that she was completely, undeniably screwed.

She tried to go with Option 1. She really did. But then Jamie started making it impossible.

It wasn’t just the daily morning greetings anymore. Now, he even brought her coffee.

“Dunno what ya drink, so I got three different kinds”

He sat across from her at lunch even when she definitely did not invite him, and—worst of all—kept finding excuses to touch her.

A light hand on her shoulder when he walked past. A nudge of his knee against hers when they sat near each other. Once, when she had been carrying a heavy box of paperwork, he had taken it right out of her hands, smirking at her grumbled protests.

It was driving her insane.

She was still overthinking all of it when she got to work one morning and found Jamie already there, leaning against her desk like he had nothing better to do.

She frowned. “Why are you here before me?”

Jamie grinned. “Missed ya, didn’t I?”

Her brain short-circuited. “You—what?”

Jamie just shrugged like he hadn’t just sent her into cardiac arrest.

“I have missed you, did I not." he repeated himself doing his best to talk accent-free, as if she didn't understand him the first time.

"Also, I might’ve left my headphones in the gym. But mostly the first thing.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “You… are insufferable.”

“Yeah, but I assume you love it.”

She did not. Except—okay, maybe she didn’t hate it. And maybe, just maybe, she had started to enjoy their little routine. Fuck, she loved it.

Which was exactly why it was so unfair that Roy Kent had to go and ruin everything.

Because of course, right as Jamie was giving her one of those stupid flirty smirks, Roy appeared out of nowhere like a grumpy, swearing bat signal.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Y/N groaned. “Roy, Hi! Jamie was just—”

“No,” Roy cut her off, pointing aggressively between her and Jamie. “I cannot watch this anymore.”

Jamie blinked. “Watch what?”

Roy let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “This. The fuckin’ pining. The flirting. The lookin’ at each other like a couple of lovesick puppies.”

Y/N’s soul left her body. “We do not do that.”

“You absolutely do,” Roy grumbled pointing at Y/N. “ You're doin' it right fucking now! It’s disgustin’.”

Jamie, to his credit, didn’t even pretend to be offended. He just raised an eyebrow at Y/N. “So, you have been lookin’ at me?”

“I—no!”

Roy groaned. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Alright, alright,” Jamie said, laughing as he held up his hands. “I get it. You think we should just shag and get it over with.”

Y/N choked. “Jamie!”

Roy looked physically ill. “That is not what I’m sayin’.”

Jamie smirked. “So, you want me to take her on a proper date, then.”

Roy stared at him like he was debating whether or not to commit actual murder.

“I hate you,” Roy muttered. “But yeah, you’re both bein’ fuckin’ stupid, so someone’s gotta do somethin’ about it.”

Jamie turned back to Y/N, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You hear that, love? Roy Kent’s givin’ us his blessing.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.”

Roy let out another long-suffering sigh and turned to leave. “Just sort it out before I retire, yeah?”

Once he was gone, Y/N peeked up at Jamie, who was still smirking at her like she was the most amusing thing he’d ever seen.

“You do like me,” Jamie said smugly.

She groaned. “I am going to throw myself into the Thames.”

Jamie just grinned. “Nah, you won’t.”

Y/N didn’t know how it happened. It was the day after the incident.

One second, Jamie was teasing her at the front desk like usual, and the next—

“So, what time should I pick you up tomorrow?”

She blinked. “What?”

Jamie smirked. “Our date, love. Thought we should make it official, yeah?”

Official. As if this wasn’t already the most humiliatingly obvious crush in all of AFC Richmond. As if half the team hadn’t already been placing bets on when Jamie would finally get his act together and ask her out.

She swallowed hard. “You’re… serious?”

Jamie gave her a look. “Obviously. Been serious since the day I met ya.”

Her brain short-circuited.

“Um,” she said intelligently.

Jamie’s smirk softened into something… gentler. “Look, if you don’t wanna, that’s alright. I can handle rejection. Probably. I actually never been rejected,” He grinned. “But I reckon we’d have a good time.”

She was so screwed.

“…Seven?” she squeaked out.

Jamie beamed. “Seven’s perfect.”

And that was how Y/N found herself sitting across from Jamie Tartt at a very nice restaurant, wondering how she ended up here.

Jamie, to his credit, was being ridiculously sweet. No teasing, no cocky comments—just full-blown, charmingly attentive Jamie.

He pulled out her chair for her. He asked her about her day (and actually listened). He even gave her his jacket when she shivered, despite insisting she was fine.

But now, as she stared at the menu, her anxiety was creeping in.

The restaurant was a bit fancier than she was used to. And while she technically knew how to read a menu, the pressure of making a decision in front of Jamie was immense.

She didn’t want to pick something stupid. Didn’t want to mispronounce anything. Didn’t want to hold up the waiter.

So, when the server came over, she panicked and just pointed at something random.

The problem? It was not what she wanted.

She realized it too late, eyes widening as the waiter scribbled down the order and walked off.

Jamie noticed immediately. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated. “I… I meant to order something else.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

She swallowed. “I—I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Jamie’s face softened.

“Babe,” he said, voice low and warm, “you’re never a bother.”

Before she could even process that, Jamie waved the waiter back over without hesitation.

“Hey, mate,” Jamie said easily. “Think we got the wrong order—she actually wanted the pasta.”

The waiter nodded, jotted it down, and walked away without a fuss.

Y/N, meanwhile, wanted to melt into the floor. “I could’ve just eaten the other thing…”

Jamie shook his head. “Nah. If you want pasta, you get pasta.”

She bit her lip. “I just—I don’t like making a fuss.”

Jamie leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied her.

“I get it,” he said. “But you don’t gotta be scared with me, yeah? I like lookin’ out for ya.”

Her heart did something stupid.

“…Okay,” she whispered.

Jamie grinned. “Good.”

And the thing was—he meant it.

All night, he made sure she was comfortable. He didn’t rush her when she had her shy moments, didn’t tease when she took a little longer to answer. Instead, he just smiled at her, soft and patient, like this—like her—was exactly where he wanted to be.

By the time the check came, Y/N had stopped second-guessing everything.

Because Jamie liked her, exactly as she was.

And maybe—just maybe—she was finally starting to believe it.

Jamie insisted on walking her home after the date.

“You know I always do that, love,” he had said when she tried to protest. “Can’t have ya gettin’ kidnapped, can I?”

She had rolled her eyes, but she didn’t fight him on it.

So now, they were strolling through the quiet streets, their hands occasionally brushing as they walked. Every time it happened, Y/N felt like she was about to combust, but Jamie acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “best date you’ve ever been on, yeah?”

Y/N smiled to herself. “You sound confident.”

Jamie smirked. “Well, obviously. I planned the whole thing, didn’t I?”

She laughed softly. “Alright, I’ll admit it—it was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Jamie grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Yeah? Who knew I was a proper romantic?”

“You are,” she murmured, half to herself.

Jamie glanced at her, his smirk faltering into something softer. His voice dropped. “Careful, love. Keep talkin’ like that, and I might have to kiss ya.”

Her breath caught.

Jamie must’ve noticed, because his smirk came back—smaller now, more teasing than cocky. He nudged her shoulder with his. “Relax, I'm just joking, yeah? Not gonna do anything you’re not ready for.”

That was the thing about Jamie—he flirted, teased, pushed just enough to make her heart race, but never too far. He knew her limits, never made her feel like she had to do anything just because it was expected.

She liked that about him. Really liked that about him.

Maybe that’s why, as they reached her front door, she hesitated.

Jamie stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Guess this is goodnight, then.”

She nodded, suddenly nervous.

Jamie chuckled. “You’re lookin’ at me like you wanna say somethin’.”

She swallowed hard, gathering every ounce of courage she had. “I just… wanted to thank you. For tonight.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Was my pleasure, love.”

She took a shaky breath. “It really was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Jamie’s expression softened. “Yeah?”

She nodded.

And then, before she could overthink it—before she could let the nerves ruin it—she leaned up on her toes and kissed him.

It was quick, just a press of her lips against his, but Jamie froze like she had just short-circuited his entire brain.

By the time she pulled back, her face was burning. “Um. Goodnight.”

She turned, reaching for her keys, but before she could even get the door open, Jamie’s voice stopped her.

“Oi.”

She turned hesitantly.

Jamie was grinning. Beaming.

“That was—” he said, voice warm and full of love, “you are full of surprises.”

And with that, he gave her one last lingering look before stepping back, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away.

Y/N stood there for a moment, heart racing, before slipping inside and leaning against the door.

She had kissed Jamie Tartt.

And by the look on his face—he was definitely going to kiss her again.

[holylulusworld]

Roll the dice (2)

Summary: You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: mafia au, angst, mentions of criminal activities, mentions of sickness, mentions of stealing, scared reader, bruises, hand around throat (non-sexual), cat and mouse

Catch up here: Roll the dice (1)

Waking in a foreign room, on a bed that isn’t your own, feels even worse than rolling the dice.

You still don’t know why Steve is playing games with you. Everyone else daring to steal from him would have ended six feet under the moment they dared to put their hands on his money.

Why you didn’t end up dead is not hard to guess. Your former boss wants to toy with you until he gets bored and decides it’s time for you to say goodbye to him.

You flinch, hearing the door open. It wasn’t locked, of course, it wasn’t. You wouldn’t have dared to escape Steve Rogers, not with your grandmother’s life on the stake.

“Ah, she’s awake,” Steve smirks as you try to make yourself as small as possible. You drop your eyes, not looking at him. “Good. Then we can come back to our little game.”

“Why are you doing this?” You sniffle as he throws the dice at you. “It will only ever show three. For how much longer do you want to torture me? I know it was wrong to steal the money from you. If not for my granny, I’d never have stolen it.”

Steve watches you grasp for the dice. He smirks as your fingers tremble. “Go ahead, roll it, doll. Maybe today, you’ll roll a six. You never know with Lady Luck.” Steve flashes you a stunning smile. If not for your knowledge about his true nature, you could fall for it.

“I’ll roll a three again,” you murmur as tears slip down your cheeks. “Please stop torturing me. Just kill me, Mr. Rogers. I’ll choose Death over this game any time. Please keep my grandmother out of this. She doesn’t know I stole the money from you.”

Steve steps closer to the bed, his arms crossed over his wide chest. He considers you, eyes trained on the tears wetting your shirt. “We can play another game.”

You blink before looking up at Steve. “What kind of game?” Gnawing at your lower lip, you hope Steve will end this farce and tell you what he’s going to do to you.

“Strip poker?” He flashes you another smile, but your stomach doesn’t do somersaults; it drops. You shake your head, not wanting to feel even more vulnerable in front of Steve.

“No…I don’t know how to play,” you lie.

“Doll, I wasn’t asking,” he gruffly replies. “You wanted to stop playing roll the dice, so we will play strip poker.”

You shake your head.

“How about this?” He shows his palms while stepping closer. “You roll the dice. If you roll a three again, we will find another game to play. If not, we will play strip poker. But be warned.” He roughly cups your chin, making you gasp. “No one beat me at poker before.”

“I’ll roll the dice.” This is easy. You rolled a three all the time yesterday. There’s no way you won’t get a three today.

Your hands shake when you grab the dice to roll it again. You take a deep breath and close your eyes before rolling the dice.

Steve watches you with amusement. The dice show a six, and he laughs loudly as you whimper. This can’t be. “No.”

“Oh, lucky me,” Steve taunts before grabbing the dice to put it in his pocket. “I get the chance to play poker again.”

You sit at a table in his luxurious dining room. You look at Steve, heart racing with anticipation. The cards are dealt, and the game begins.

You look at your cards, not even understanding if you have a good hand or not.

“Royal flush,” Steve smirks like the devil when you place your cards on the table. “I’m sorry, but you lose. Take one piece of clothing off. Your choice—for now. Shoes do not count.”

“One piece…” You shyly murmur while looking down at your body. “A sock.” You take off one of your socks and drop it to the ground. It’s not all lost. Maybe you will get a better hand next time.

As the game progresses, the tension only increases. You lost round after round. It was predictable, of course. Steve surely played this game a hundred times before. And you never played poker in your life.

With shaking hands, you hold your card while trying to not squirm under Steve’s gaze. You’re left in your shirt and underwear. Another lost round, and you’re in your plain underwear for him to make fun of you.

Steve licks his lips. He roams your body with his eyes as you place the card on the table.

“Oh, beginner’s luck,” Steve chuckles. “I knew you had it in you, doll.” Unlike you, Steve unashamedly takes his shirt off. He flings it across the room, flexing his muscles on purpose. “You’ll get me bare in no time.”

Furrowing your brows, you glance at his chest, eyes drinking in the different tattoos on his skin. There’s an eagle on the right side of his chest. He also has a quote inked right below his collarbone.

“If you keep on staring, I need to put the shirt back on,” Steve teases as you try not to stare at all the tattoos on his body. “How about I help you lose your shirt first…”

[madthetruemad]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 19 | Not As It Seems

You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey?!

Fic Masterlist

You were as stiff as a board as you laid next to Jing Yuan in your bed. His arms were around your waist and his face was pushed up into your neck, his breath tickling your skin with every puff of air that left his mouth, “you’re so tense.”

I wonder why, you thought as your mind wandered back to the dead maid who was probably still in his room.

“I just… I guess I’m scared,” you decided to test the waters with being truthful. He’s been lenient with you so far after all.

“Scared?”

“Scared of you,” your voice was soft as your words carried through the darkness of your room.

“Why?”

“Because… I feel like you’re going to kill me too.”

You felt one of his arms leave your waist. His hand sliding up your form before it found a strand of your hair and he started to twirl it about his finger.

“I might one day,” his voice echoed, “it was tempting to do so when you first got here.”

“Then why not do it?”

He already did the other times, is me having amnesia really stopping him this time? A part of you had to know despite how dangerous it was. Would Sunday even help you this time? You haven’t exactly been on the best of terms…

“Because…the other times I did…it was like ripping my own heart out.”

Other… times? But how…?

“What do you…?”

You felt him gently kiss your neck, “sleep, don’t mind my words, I’m just… joking.”

You don’t know when you fell asleep. All you do know is that when you closed your eyes was that you were going to search for answers. Wherever those answers may be.

The next morning when you woke up, Jing Yuan was still next to you, and you found yourself turned around so now that you were facing him and truth be told your dreams were turbulent, nightmarish. You still feel so tired especially from what Jing Yuan revealed the night before.

You need to talk to Sunday, but not while he is in here with you.

Speaking of which…

He looked quite peaceful while he was sleeping.

Slowly, you brought your hand up, your fingers were gentle as they ran along his cheeks, his nose, his lips, his forehead, down his jawline. He was so beautiful, but so dangerous all the same.

How does he remember those lives? Was he saying all that to get a rise out of me? A reaction? Was he hoping my mask would slip?

“Is my face that interesting to you?”

Your eyes met his and you smiled, “mmm, you’re very beautiful.”

He chuckled softly as he sat up in your bed and swung his legs over the side. His warmth no longer surrounded you and you were tempted to pull him back in. Maybe I can ask him about what he meant last night?

“Princess.”

“Y- yes?”

“Come to the training grounds later.”

“Why?”

He grinned at you.

“A- alright…”

Before he got up, he motioned for you to come over, deciding that it would be best to listen to him, you sat up in the bed too and crawled over and just as you got close enough he had wrapped his arm around your neck and tugged you forward in order to hold you still. You were about to say something to him when you felt his lips on yours. His mouth perfectly slotting against your own as he kept you there easily before letting you go and standing up.

“See you later, Princess.”

“Bye, Yuan,” you managed to mumble out as you still felt the heat of his lips on yours when he left the room.

“You’re looking quite dazed,” Sunday said.

His immediate appearance caused your brow to furrow as you got out of bed too.

“What did Jing Yuan mean last night?”

You cut right to the chase, you were tired of Sunday’s hidden intentions and lackluster explanations. You were going to get answers, and if he wasn’t going to tell you than you planned to ask the Emperor.

“The emperor is quite troublesome it seems. He’s always one step ahead…”

“Quit stalling.”

Sunday smirked at you.

“I lied.”

“Obviously,” you scoffed.

“I wasn’t the one turning back time, Jing Yuan was.”

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[nmakii]

something there

— itoshi s. x beauty and the beast

entry one of “someday, my prince will come”

“be still!” you snarled at the magenta furred beast. “tch..!” sae scoffed. his large paw shuddered in your grasp as you slowly pulled out the thorn. “it wouldn’t hurt to be more gentle with it…” he groaned in pain. oh, god everything felt like agony.

“you wouldn’t be in pain if you hadn’t gone to save me. i’m not some damsel in distress.” you sarcastically pointed out, much to sae’s laughter. “uhuh, so you were fine defending yourself from that pack of wolves?”

you glare at him for his comment, and quickly rip the thorn out. “ow..! sh— uugh… what was that for..?” he pouted, his other paw quickly moving to massage the pained one. “that’s for being a sarcastic jerk. now go rest up, prince.” you teased.

sae scowled at the nickname. “don’t call me that.” he softly pushed at your waist. “eeehhh, right, right… just… rest already, sae.” you sigh, standing up. this place… wasn’t so bad now that you think about it. but you miss your father. how could you not?

sae nods, acknowledging your order. geez… one thing sae itoshi really didn’t mess with was his health. he’d put away his ego to follow a physician’s orders. “ah, and,” you started.

“…thanks for saving me. —i guess… i might’ve really died if you hadn’t save me.”

your eyes avoided his, bottom lip in a pout. you’re not really used to relying on other’s to save you. or, maybe it’s more so that you never needed to be saved. it’s not everyday that wolves show up in the province anyways.

“…yeah, sure. i was just… worried when i heard you decided to run away.” he admits, his voice faltering. “you wouldn’t believe how dangerous these woods have gotten in just a decade.”

“…do you just go around patrolling the woods like some guard?” you stifle a laugh. the beast can only deadpan at you. “do you think i just stay in my palace all day? i still need to exercise.” he scoffs.

“temper.” the candlestick known as aiku warns. “remember, be nice.” he smiles.

the next few days are… surprisingly pleasant. as sae recovers from his scars, you’ve consistently been tending to his wounds as well as making decent company. decent, since you’re the only company he’s had in a while.

“can you walk?” your arm supports his lower back as the two of you walk in the snow. “i—i’m fine. i’m not some grandmother with arthritis, i’m only 20.” he huffs, that once cold look in his eyes much more gentle.

“hah! only 20? you might as well be a grandpa!” you tease, much to sae’s dismay. “so what? you’re probably turning 20 in a couple months. who’s gonna be the old geezer now?” he raised an eyebrow. his breath visible in the air as a white cloud.

“…you. it’s always gonna be you, oldie.” you grinned, throwing a snowball suddenly in his direction.

the snow fell off his face, some of it melting and being absorbed into his magenta fur from his pure body heat.

sae frowned, unamused, as his large dug to gather the largest snowball he could manage to create. “i’m going to destroy you.” he muttered, aiming in your direction.

“sae—! don’t! i have so much to live for!” you laughed as you ran away from him, hiding behind a tree. “come back here… i’m gonna teach you a lesson..!” he ran, following your each and every move.

the two of you played as if two little children. the kingdom’s unfavored, blunt prince, and the oddball daughter of a kooky mechanic from a quaint village. who would have thought that they’d make such a dynamic duo?

some might even call them a power couple..?

“ah! just a few more days, and we’ll be human again!” the miniature grandfather’s clock cheered. “oh yeah? what makes you so sure, sendou?” aiku hummed, looking down at the sight in the courtyard.

“what makes me sure? why, the master hasn’t ever done this! she’s made him different!” he exasperatedly exclaimed, going on a tangent about how he’s going to woo the maid’s staff once again using the boyish charm he had lost.

aiku nodded, seeing the look in sae’s eyes. the same look the young master had when he had proclaimed to become the best king in the world as a child; the look of hope. however this time, it runs deeper. how sae lets you guide his paw as he relearns how to use a quill. it was something he was too prideful to even let his childhood tutors do.

“hmm… maybe you’re right, sendou. there might be something there that wasn’t there before.”

[pool-spidey]

The thing about the Ice Box was it could make your skin crawl just thinking about it, let alone being its inmate.

Still, Wade couldn’t really say he regretted ending up in there; given the chance, he would’ve blown off that fucking pedophile’s head a hundred more times. But needless to say, his first mission under the X-Men’s wing didn’t go as smoothly as planned.

What Wade remembered best from being arrested wasn’t the sensation of this fucking collar being clasped over his neck, and his body revolting against the cancer joining the party once again. What carved into his memory even more were Peter’s screams, telling the motherfuckers to get fucking off him, take that shit off, you’re gonna fucking kill him; backing it up with some punches thrown with what could only be taken for a mutant strength.

Needless to say, that got him arrested, too. Which was exactly what he wanted.

And what made up all the regret Wade had about what he’d done.

Wade remembered vaguely joking that it was not exactly how he imagined getting away with Peter for that vacation at last, but it’d have to do. Being taken to the mountains, getting matching outfits and all that.

And he remembered that Peter didn’t laugh.

As the door of their cell locked behind them, Wade had to sit down, but Peter started to pace up and down the small space. Wade’s eyes followed him like he was watching the tennis match.

Peter unzipped his yellow prison garb and let it loose around his legs, revealing a white undershirt, same as Wade had underneath.

It made the collar on his neck even more visible and Wade felt rage crippling through his cancer-ridden body.

“You, fucking stop it.”

Peter froze in place and looked at him.

“What?”

“Wolverine was supposed to be the only one looking this good in a wife beater. So you better fucking stop it.”

Peter snorted, a shadow of a smile on his lips. It sounded a little bit relieved and a little bit more like he wanted to cry.

“You forgot Freddy Mercury”, he said, walking up to sit beside Wade. He left no space between them and Wade took the chance to rest his head on Peter’s shoulder.

He quickly sat back up though, feeling that Peter was shaking. He pressed a hand to his face, covering his eyes and leaving no doubt now that he was crying.

“Hey… what’s up?”

“I’m so sorry, Wade.”

“What? Why?”

He took a hand off his face and looked at Wade, whose heart immediately smashed to smithereens at the sight of sadness overflowing his eyes along with the tears.

“I talked you into this X-Men shit… If you weren’t there…”

“Hey, boo, stop it. Really, life would always find a way to fuck us stiff bareback, don’t you know it? Stop crying, this is not your fault.”

“That’s not why I’m crying.”

“Then why?”

“Cause you’re…” he started in a tone like he couldn’t believe Wade had to even ask, but then cut it abruptly and said something else than he’d intended: “Cause you’re in pain.”

Cause you’re dying.

Vomiting felt like all of Wade’s insides were going out – or rather wanted to, but couldn’t.

All he had inside of him was pain, and it felt like Wade was the one his body was fighting, not the cancer.

He wiped his mouth with shaking hand and used the rest of his energy to get away from the toilet and crawl a meter away of it, towards his pallet. Peter was sitting by it on the floor, waiting for him to come back and lay his head on his lap. Which Wade did, curling on the floor and burrowing half of his face in Peter’s thigh. Peter gave him his hand and Wade took it with both of his, pressed it to his chest like he was a child squeezing a teddy bear. The other hand Peter laid on his head, petting it slowly, like he was a mother of said terrified child.

“Here we fucking go again, I guess,” Wade groaned.

“Only the first time you fled on me, remember?”

“Yeah. And I’m sorry.”

“And you’d do it again.” There was no accusation in his voice; there was only the warmth in his hands.

“Probably, yeah.”

It wouldn’t be like them if they didn’t get into even bigger shit than they were already in.

It was the first time they were in prison cafeteria, poking around for something edible among the crap they had on their platters. They were sitting alone by their table, face to face, and Wade was trying to imagine that Peter was the only one out there, the only person in a thousand miles radius; lines of his bare biceps like a balm for Wade’s aching insides.

It took him a good minute to notice the group approaching them.

“I’ve seen you earlier, pretty face.”

Black Tom didn’t look as much of a threat. And maybe it wouldn’t have ended so badly if he didn’t touch Peter.

“Thanks, I was thinking about acting, actually.” In his current state, Wade wasn’t that much of a threat either. But least he could do was try to keep their attention on himself.

But they didn’t take it, told him to shut the fuck up – they’re talking to the twink right here.

“Your name here’s gonna be Gentle Mouth…” Black Tom said, putting his dirty paw on Peter’s face.

There were plenty of times before when they were in danger, when they were dealing with far worse than fucking Black Tom and his boys.

But all these previous times were different.

Now Wade couldn’t fight them and he knew it.

So maybe that was why his eloquence left him high and dry, and the only way to let out his rage as he saw Peter stiffening under Black Tom’s touch, was noncreative and point-blank:

“Keep the fuck away from him.”

“Why, he’s your bitch?”

“I am his.”

“Oh shee-it!” Black Tom smiled, turning to Wade. “I see you’ve got something in your teeth. His pubes?”

“Jealous much?”

You moron, Peter would tell him later, all resigned. Couldn’t you keep your mouth shut for once? I was trying not to provoke them.

In exchange for what he said, Wade got some laughs, and a nudge in the gut from Black Tom; which combined forces with the cancer and was enough to leave him breathless.

And as for Black Tom, what he got in exchange was Peter’s platter right to his fucking face – a beautiful hit that set both Black Tom and Peter’s untouched excuse for a meal flying around in all directions.

After that it went painfully and fast, and soon enough they were all escorted roughly to their cells, Peter helping Wade walk to theirs, almost carrying him. 

As soon as they were in, Wade would’ve collapsed right then and there if Petter didn’t make the extra effort to lay him on the pallet; to put the pillow under his dizzy head.

Then he lay down behind him, hugging him gently; somehow holding Wade in place – this bundle of different pains all stitched together.

Peter was also beat up, even worse than Wade given the fact that this whole fight was practically him just trying to keep others away from Wade who was only lying there on the floor and getting kicked. But he took it better; even the last part when he just clung to Wade on the floor, shielding him with his body; taking the kicks to his own ribs.  

Now Wade was glad to be the little spoon – he didn’t have to see Peter’s bloodied face.

“Sorry”, he said. “I know you didn’t want to provoke them. But I just…”

He didn’t know what to say, so he stopped, the pain and the blame getting the best of him. And for a moment Peter wasn’t saying anything, but then Wade felt warmth on the back of his head, so gentle, and again. And again.  

Peter kissing him there.

“It’s okay”, he said quietly, and held him closer. “I’m just sorry you’re hurt.”

Not long after – and not a moment too soon – Cable was there, fucking the shit up and chasing a fourteen-year-old.

It came pretty much without saying that Peter and Wade were gonna help the kid. That is: it came without saying for Peter, so also for Wade.

Some plain old chaos and ass beatings were involved, during which Cable’s fuckass weapon fired right into Wade’s collar, breaking it just in fucking time for Wade to survive his not so pleasant fall on a table which practically broke him in half.

He had a moment of a black out, and the last thing he heard before it was Peter tearing his throat on Wade’s name as he watched him fall.

Wade was glad it didn’t end up the last thing he's heard in life; and also that it wasn’t the last image of him burned into Peter’s mind.

Not his best look, for sure. Also, breaking a spine? Wade wouldn’t recommend.

But what came after was, not to exaggerate, motherfucking awesome.

Welcome back, superpowers.

After that it went pretty fast.

X-Men showed up in their hovercraft to check up on the fuckery that was going on there. They were too late to meet Cable, but at least they gave Peter, Wade and that kid Russel a lift.

And Yukio, that sweet girl, took the collars off of Peter and Russel as well.

During the flight, Peter gave them a piece of his mind about not doing anything to prevent the mutants from being held in such conditions, and not coming earlier to prevent Wade from dying there of cancer. Wade sat there with his head on Peter’s shoulder, listening with a smile to him telling Colossus where he could shove his rules.

Russell was taken to the X-Men mansion and soon enough Cable showed up for him; but there he met Wade and Peter.

There was some talking and some more beating the shit out of each other, and also some more shooting, but eventually they came to terms.

They made raid on the facility where Russell had been held and abused. They killed some pedos together, and in the end it was Dopinder, sweet sweet bloodthirsty Dopinder, who ended that fucking turd of a director of that dump; not Russell.

Orphans were saved and friends were made, and Russell stayed at X-Men mansion, while Cable came back to his loved ones.

Peter and Wade also came home – to spoon, finally, in their own bed.

Being even more of the ­f-word than before.

[cxs-workshops]

Hi. I’m the person who almost attempted suicide, twice. Been nearly a year now, it’s out there, I do not care who knows.

Didn’t want to jump in this but here we fucking go: First to be fucking clear, and which no one, might I add. came to me directly to ask, all the the Logan/anon drama was NOT the reason I did why I did what I did. It didn’t help the situation, but it wasn’t the sole reason. I had so much IRL issues going on at the time, and I realize the petty stuff with the anon hate made it seem like it was the only reason but I barely thought about it while I was doing the thing. I have half the mind to bill a certain party the rest of my medical debt but hey, we’re gonna move on.

I cut myself off from fan servers and from most people in the community due to being anxious all the time, thus being alone since late 2023. If I was talking to anyone, it would be purely about the game or art stuff. Snowy & Goons, how DARE you use my situation to your benefit, and any of the posts I’ve made. You cannot outright accuse someone else of my suicide attempt without any concrete evidence. That’s a damn serious accusation. All we have are petty Tumblr anon messages. And ooo guess what, not every single Logan fan is gathered at Simprock, there are plenty of other individuals within the community, outside of fan servers. Who’s to say that your goons aren’t the ones posing as the anons for them to be framed? Idk but you can’t keep talking out of your ass. My harassment started roughly around 2020/21, I can’t even remember who said what at the time and who’s to say the same people are even around anymore. Should I have collected evidence? Seeing how it all came to this, yeah I definitely should have. I don’t have evidence, but most importantly NEITHER DO YOU. Which applies to many things for you.

Simprock was the last server I had joined. During the brief time I was there, was treated with nothing but kindness and respect. I admit, I do still have a sort of distrust with them, for other reasons, but with this it’s hard not to be on their side( and with apparent evidence) . Actually in fact, it was when Snowy had also joined Simprock, I bolted out of there shortly. I wasn’t there long enough to get to know anyone but I saw your name and my skin immediately crawled. We never talked directly but I first saw you in the bootleg my time server (late 2022-mide2023) the vibes were immediately off. I’m not of fan of Logan either but you were constantly belittling them, not cool. To think you’ve escalated this far…baffling.

Back to using my posts to your benefit, the zine post. How the fuck did you immediately accuse them again when I said I wasn’t joining either zines. Again I couldn’t even guess who the anons were but hey, could be your goons posing again. Just because a person liked it immediately meant it was an attack against you? Dude. Reaching aren’t we.

Some days I take a step back, and think. There were several different ways to have handled my harassment, and I was thinking one of those ways was the one you’re taking Snowy, and I can’t begin to imagine it, not even a little. Why? Because this is fucking insane behavior. I wouldn’t have begun to do something like this good gracious. If I made anyone uncomfortable last year anytime after my attempt or during all the hate anon messages, I genuinely didn’t mean to and I apologize. I appreciate more than anything that the lot of you gathered to help me during and afterwards. I’ll always be thankful.

I’m going to cut myself off here before I get pissed again, but one more thing.

F YOU SNOWY I FN KNEW ITBWAS YOU TALKING SHIT ABOUT QUINLAN. I don’t play about my characters and for you to mischaracterize them like this UGH JUST 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Please Leave me Alone

Hi, I’ve been sort of attempting to avoid making a post about this but due to numerous concerned individuals reaching out to me and the amount of receipts that I’ve been given regarding this I have to make one last attempt to address the person who has been doing this to me for the past few months.

I know what you’re doing, and you know it’s dishonest and wrong. This needs to stop. Targeting others and involving them in your personal drama just for interacting with me is unacceptable, and the misinformation and harassment have to end.

I’m giving you the chance to take accountability and tell the truth. If I continue to hear that this behavior is still happening, I’ll have no choice but to address it directly.

I’m not interested in some self-made competition for attention and the drama - I just want to share my love for this game and community together with my friends. Please leave me alone.

For the record: I have never, and will never, send anonymous hate to anyone - especially not over being queer or creating gay art. As a queer minority myself, I stand for marginalized communities and will always support safe, inclusive spaces for everyone.

It’s incredibly unfair to your friends as well, who you have most likely been feeding false versions of the story. It’s also unfair to pull completely uninvolved individuals trying to enjoy their time in this space into this especially when you know that this is untrue- then hide behind alt accounts and your friends, which will unfairly put them in a position where they have been defending someone who has been dishonest to them.

I wanted to believe that you were going through a rough spot and that it led you to doing this in a bad state of mind, but this is becoming excessive and I want you to please use this opportunity to reflect on this because you know what you have been doing is wrong and hurts everyone.

[vicky-0933]

Here is the story, just finished during class. Let me know what you think.

————————————————————————

My Flower Girl

“Here are Lilies” you say while pointing to them, the couple goes to them and looks, you smile, watching them talking about the flowers and, looking outside seeing how there is dirt everywhere, grabbing your cleaning supplies, you head outside, sweeping away the dirt and to take care of the flowers, putting the flowers in there places. As you were outside, you started to take in the view of the sky seeing the different colors, “Hello there sweetheart” a voice says to you, which surprised you.

Stopping what you are doing, you turn to see an older looking women with a pink dress that hugs her curves, “Oh hello, how can I help you” you ask, then soon you hear a ringing in your ears and she does too, she looks at you with a confused but stern look. You both don’t say anything, you don’t understand why that happened, she just looks at you. “Oh I just wanted to come see my new neighbor” she says chuckling, and you snickered, “Well I am glad you came to see me” you say.

You both start talking for a bit, she starts to talking about something until “Excuse me mam” someone says behind you, it’s one of your customers, “Oh yes how can I help you” you ask, they tell you which flowers they want to buy, “Oh yes, I will be right there” you say to them, they walk inside talking about other plants, you turn to the older women, “Would you like come with me” you ask and she nods.

Both of you walk inside, and you bring her over to the back of register, you help the couple buy their flowers, “Thank you, I hope you enjoy them” you say, they says thank you back and walk out of the store. “So, what got you into this business” the older women asks you, turning you say in a teasing manner, “Wow, I would like to have your name first before we know each other” you say.

She blushes, “Oh right well, I am Lilia Calderu” she introduces herself, you smile, “well nice to meet you, I am Yn Ln” you say putting out your hand, she takes it then gasp, you panic, pulling away and taking a step back, trying to figure what’s going on, then she stopped and just looks at you, “your a green witch” she say and you start to stutter, “I am- I umm I am” you nervously say, putting you hands on your head, “oh really, your young one are ya, well I am a divination witch” she says with a smirk and her hazel eyes go a bit dark.

You start to blush, ��we-well I umm hello I guess” you say stuttering again, little flowers spring out of your head, she looks at you with a questionable look. “Umm hi” she chuckles, “how did you find out that you where a green witch” she asks but you don’t answer her, you close your eyes praying for it to stop, you both just stand there in, “you didn’t answer my question” Lilia say, you open your eyes looking at her with apologetic eyes.

“Oh right, well I started growing them out of hands and hair, which is weird, but non the less, that’s when I started noticing people come to ask me for flowers and then I started paying attention more” you say, putting you hands down, the little flowers showing and Lilia hums, “at some point, I started to get over welled with this power of mine, so I stopped for a bit, but then got back into it a few months ago. It’s been scary, I’m still learning about it” you finishing saying, and she just looks at you with pity.

She smiles, “well at what age did you decide to do this” she asks you, you smile “when I was 16, once I started to work on magic, and with flowers was the best way to help with my magic by growing them and what not, then I started growing a lot of flowers of different kinds and selling them to a few witches here and there, soon I knew I wanted to do a flower shop” you say looking around your shop. You make a fist with your hand and opening it to show a blooming flower coming out, and she gasps, you motion to her to take the flower and she does.

“How old are you” Lilia asks, while covering her face with the flower, you chuckle,”I am 300 years old” you say, “and you, how old are you” you ask, she sighs “450 years old” says. “You look good for a 450 year old witch” you and she blush, she takes a note and looks around from she is, taking in the view from the flowers, making the entrance look beautiful, she nods and smiles. Lilia feels safe, as if she was meant to be there, surrounded by the colors and smells, calming down.

“What are the best types of flowers for my type of witchcraft” Lilia says taking a step towards you, grabbing the desk behind you, you take a deep breath, “I umm I” you stutter, she takes another step towards you. You getting nervous, and looking around to see what you can tell her, so you thinking about something that might help you with the situation.

“Umm HERE, ummm I hear, over here” you stutter walking towards the foxglove, trying to get the flower to go away from your head but they won’t go away, she just look at you with a smug expression and laughs to herself and follows you, “Here are the foxglove, they are one of Europe’s prettiest wildflowers. Doctors in the 1780s, used this flower to make medicine, for it to treat heart failure. But they are extremely toxic, so I would handle them with extreme care.” You say, trying to calm yourself down from the experience before.

“Oh wow, that’s cool.” She says in aww, “Would you want this flower, or a non toxic one?” You ask nervously, and she chuckles, “I would want a flower that wouldn’t kill me” she says and you gasp, “right, right ummm over here” you tell, she follows you to the carnations, “Here yea go” you say while grabbing a bouquet of carnations and letting her grab one, “You know that these are native to Sicily, so I feel like these are good for you.” You say blushing a bit.

“Well, want to know something” she asks and you look at her, a little confused, “I am from Sicily, but I guess it has been so long since I saw how the flowers looked and now that you are here with the flowers, I can look at them again” she says in a low tone and you look at her a little surprised. You then look at her with awe, seeing her take in the flowers, starting to take in her features. The way that her hair makes her face look sharper, as you look at her you didn’t notice that she was looking at you.

She walks up to you, and puts her hand your cheek making you jump a bit. “You ok there sweetheart” she asks you and you blush and nod but you don’t do anything you both just stand there, looking into each others eyes, you see the way her eye colors change, “umm yes i am, miss i am just a but nervous” you say looking away, she doesn’t says anything but grabs your hand examining it, you don’t move as your blushes mess. Lilia lets go of your hand, and starts to walk around, you can feel flowers growing around your head making a crown.

Something that always happens when your nervous, stressed, or fluster, in this case it happens to be both. Lilia finally turns around and sees your crown, “Oh honey, that look beautiful on you” she says walking to you with a smile on her face, “oh umm thank you” you say looking away, she cups you face making you look at her. And something that has never been done before, you crown seem to be going to her, wrapping around her head and making a crown around her head.

“Oh wow that has never happened before” you say while she gasp, and suddenly you both feel a pull at your heart, Lilia smiles, pulling you in for a kiss, which surprises you, the kiss feels gentle and soft. You slowly melt into it, feeling your body get pulled into hers, how your body matched each others. Feeling her hands go down to your lower back, you wrap your her neck, bring her as close as possible, you both pull away from each other, you see the flowers wrapping around both your hands making them stay together.

“This has never happened before, I have no idea why this is happening” you say a bit nervously, studying your hands, Lilia doesn’t say anything but just stares at you, “do you believe in soulmates” Lilia asks. You turn to look at her, “Well kinda, I believe that it doesn’t exist but I never really thought of looking for them” you say feeling guilty. “Well when I looked at your palm, I saw you’ve meet your soulmate, and I think this is a confirmation. I think we found each other” Lilia says softly, you smile.

And without thinking you hug her which makes her gasp, “I never thought I would find you, now that I have, I will never let you go” you whisper in her ear, Lilia chuckles softly, hugging you back. She cups your face again and pulls you into a kiss again, this time it’s more dominant and hard. You let her take control over this, her tongue exploring your mouth, she pushes you against the well, “Umm Excuse me mam” you hear a voice say and turn and see someone standing there.

“I got my professor pregnant and I need to get flowers to say I’m sorry, and what not. So can you help me or can I come in an other time” The person says, and you sigh, “Yea sir I will help you, just pick out what you want and I’ll be there” you say and he goes. “I am so sorry, but let me help him and then I’ll close up and we can do whatever you want” you say and Lilia nods, you go and help the guy, “Alrighty sir your total is $12.99, and I hope you have a great day” you say, and he leaves. You sigh putting your head down, you feel hands on your waist, and a body come behind you, “Where were we, hmm sweetheart” you hear Lilia say.

————————————————————————

Hi y’all I will post a poll later to see what story will be posted next. See ya!!

[okwonyo]

hi everyone ! so i guess many if you has seen @cupidhoons post about what i said to her. since you all heard her version of the story, here is mine.

a few days ago, liz made a post inspired by a lana del rey song— a woman who is funding the genocide and asked the president to keep going.

as you can see on the picture, an anon did tell her about it and she had the audacity to first, not even apologize, but second call out the “separate art from artist card” which is not valid at all. not in this kind of situation, especially when we are talking about the killing of many children, women and men.

you can see that right from the start, she made it about anyone but herself. claiming that other bloggers did the same. starting to blame everyone else but herself.

i went to her dms and talked to her about it— as you saw in her posts. here is what i say (which i stand for) and what she responded. then kaia @pshbites (who had nothing to do with this) came along.

(you can search ariana palestine to see what she has done for the people, it takes 2 seconds)

i never once in my messages told them “kaia, liz, you guys are ZIONISTS” no. i just told a truth that giving money to people who support isreal is funding the genocide— because what do you think they do with this money?

now, if i did call them a zionist anywhere, then i apologize. i admit that it’s quite a strong word to use. but i won’t take back anything that i said, wether it hurts your feelings or not.

all i did was to go in liz’s dms and explain to her why i was going to block her. and instead of apologizing for doing something wrong, she is making herself the victim in this situation because “i called her a zionist” when this isn’t what she should care about.

she should care about how she is promoting a zionist artist and wonder why it is bad to separate the art from artist, not only in this situation but in any kind of way.

she can use the excuse that she has a muslim friend, “i’m not racist ! my neighbor is a black woman !” using religion to defend yourself isn’t right, it doesn’t make sense, there are not only muslims in palestine. this isn’t a genocide because of religion, it’s a genocide because of the people. there are chirstians in palestine as well— and most of you not knowing this says a lot about the people that you are.

now, you can make this entire situation about me being the problem. you can say “oh but jiah called someone a zionist, so problematic!” and turn around to support people who showed support to a zionist and didn’t stop AFTER knowing the truth.

this situation isn’t about me allegedly calling liz a zionist, this situation is so much bigger than this and it’s just sad that it got reduced to this kind of drama. this situation is about how some people will reblog links and do post about palestine while still listening to artists that are publicly zionist. they will turn around and drink cocacola, they will go and eat mcdonald.

you can reblog as many posts as you want, but if don’t do the boycott RIGHT you are doing nothing. i know what i’m talking about, i had to stop listening to my favorite kpop group because of this and here is a proof of me acknowledging and learning from my mistakes :

which is why i don’t understand why liz can’t simply do the same without making a whole post about it. you can say that i was harsher with her than rei (@soov) was with me. but i wasn’t promoting jennie on my blog and claiming that it’s okay to give zionists money if we are separating the art from the artist.

so it’s all that i have to say.

[weirdsht]

I have this random idea and I neeed to yap about it here lmaoo

I'm just thinking about krs taking care of a teen around locks age, he met them at some point of the apocalypse and decided to take them under his wing.

let's say they transmigrated together or reader a bit after krs, but they meet at some point in the novel, anyways bc krs!cale took care of them for a good 3-4 years before the transmigration he subconsciously does the things he did before without noticing.

another random thing that came to mind:

idk someone: "wow young master, you really know this kid"

cale: "I hope i do i took care of them for a good 3 years"

random person: "when???"

ignore how this might not make sense storywise and probably characterwise, I'm really sleepy 🙏

Homecoming - Cale & Teen! Reader

a/n: i want to write more but my brain is all out of creative juices because almost all of my profs are making us write essays every day. not to mention that directing thingy i need to do for that stupid uni short film

tags: fluff, platonic, reader is unhinge if you squint, gn!reader

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Requests are open and welcome

Navigation Masterlist

“...What are you doing here?”

That was the first thing Cale asked you as soon as he saw you.

“And you are..?”

Was your question to respond to his question.

Because why is this random nobleman talking to you as if he knew you? Sure he reminds you a bit of Kim Rok Soo but still.

This guy is essentially a stranger and your big brother Rok Soo has taught you stranger-danger.

You can see the redhead sigh before pushing his hair back with his left hand. There’s a look of fondness and frustration in his eyes, another thing that reminds you of your big brother.

Kim Rok Soo wasn’t actually your big brother biologically speaking. Both of you were orphans who found each other in the middle of a ruined world. Two abandoned people who found solace within each other. 

You quite literally tripped into Rok Soo’s life a few months after he became a team leader.

The same way how you literally tripped into this weird noble’s porch. 

Speaking of which, that said noble is now telling everyone to give the two of you some privacy. He even asked the cute baby dragon to put a soundproof barrier around the room.

“Are you doing that to mask my screams when you kill me?”

You couldn’t help but ask once everyone was out of the room. Rok Soo had always told you about not letting your impulsive thoughts win but you couldn’t help it.

Cale sighed loudly and tiredly, exactly the same reaction your Rok Soo would do when you said something stupid.

“No I’m not gonna kill you, and no I’m not going to eat you either so don’t even ask.”

You clamped your mouth shut after that. The question dying on your tongue before you could even ask it.

“I’m going explain myself and then you’ll do the same okay?”

You nodded seeing as you don’t really have a choice. You’re in this guy’s turf and there’s no way you can outrun a dragon and whatever monster of a people this guy has with him. And so you behaved yourself and settled on the plush couch you were escorted to.

“My name is Cale Henituse, or at least that’s my current name. I used to be Kim Rok Soo back on Earth before I died.”

…okay what?

What now?

He was who?

Kim Rok Soo— well you guess he goes by Cale now — knows you well enough to know that this information would cause your brain to overdrive. And so he has a glass of iced water prepared for your poor self to drink.

“Wha- how- huh?”

You tried to formulate words after gulping the water but your mind is still reeling. There’s simply no comprehending this new information bought upon you.

But it’s fine since Cale is willing to wait for you to come around.

Even after 3 weeks of waiting, his still very patient.

He knows when to give you space, but also knows when to spend time with you. Cale knows exactly when you need him to be there for you and when your mind is confused about him being a stranger but also being the big brother you dearly love.

Of course, this raised some questions with the others. Cale suddenly took in another teen one day and he seemed to have known them all his life even though he just met them 3 weeks ago.

“Young master you seem to really know that kid.”

Hans asked one day. In a short distance, Ron was also listening in while dusting some decorative vases.

"I hope I do, I took care of them for a good 3 years."

Was Cale’s nonchalant answer before leaving the room in order to go to your bedroom. He had promised you that he’ll let you wander around the forest today after all. 

Meanwhile, the two servants are flabbergasted — Ron was just hiding it better than Hans.

“...3 years? How did he hide from us that he took care of a child, an entire human being, for three whole years??”

Hans asked and the only answer he got was the dust from Ron’s feather duster flying towards his face.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Kelly Severide x Reader

Guess Kelly's in love

Kelly watched you as you danced with Crocket, laughing when he dipped you and spun you out. There would’ve been a time another man touching his girlfriend probably would’ve had him getting CPD called on him but the moment Crocket pulled you back in your eyes tracked the crowd for Kelly, lighting up when they locked onto him and a grin split your face. You were friends with Crocket but that was it. Kelly knew his place in your heart.

This whole charity night you and Crocket had co-headed for victims of a hurricane on the east coast. He was so damn proud of you. The moment the music ended Crocket clapped for you then pointed towards him, you nodded and headed that way so he started to push his way through the crowd to be able to meet you halfway.

When you finally got past the last line of donors, smiling politely as you made quick small talk you practically threw yourself into his arms “When did you get here?” he laughed when he felt you bury your face in the bend of his neck, planting a kiss there “About five minutes ago. You were dancing with your co-head” you pulled back from the hug and your eyes were wide “You’re not mad are you?” and he shook his head “No baby”

You grinned “Why Severide. You really are not meeting your reputation since you’ve been dating me. I mean yeah when we first started dating you were a bit of a wild card but now it seems like you’re chilling out”

“Maybe I finally found something worth chilling out for” he replied with a grin before pulling you into a kiss. You whimpered lightly against his lips and he groaned, biting your bottom lip gently “I love you” you smiled broadly “I love you too Kelly, now do you feel like socializing with me? Because I’ve been talking about my fire lieutenant boyfriend half the night and I’m fairly certain half of these people think I’ve made you up”

He laughed when you stuck your bottom lip out in a mock pout. “Oh we can’t have people thinking that now, can we?” he pulled you into his arms and used his thumb to flick your bottom lip “Stick that lip back into your mouth angel” you grinned “Just because you asked so sweetly handsome” he shook his head “Well, come on. You wanted to show me off”

Kelly remembered the day he met you. He’d gotten dinged pretty bad on a call and Boden made him go to med to get checked. He’d been a bit of an ass, honestly. Instead of Maggie however like he’d half expected to see when the door opened the prettiest woman he’d ever seen walked in and grinned at him “I hear you’re a big baby when you’re hurt and being an asshole about it”

Before he left he apologized to everyone and somehow managed to get your number. The first time he’d taken you out on a date? It shocked him how damn nervous he was just meeting your eyes that night. Every time you looked at him, a small smile playing on your face he’d feel his heart flip. What the hell kind of sorcery were they hiring at Med these days?

_______________________

You were the calm to his chaos. He found himself thinking of you during the day whenever he had downtime. His mind always drifted to you, no matter what else was happening. When he had a bad day he craved holding you in his arms as a reminder that he was still alive.When he had a good day, he craved holding you in his arms to celebrate it.

The moment he knew without a shadow of a doubt he was falling for you it was a simple day. He’d had a fairly decent shift, so had you. He’d offered to go out for dinner but you’d told him you wanted to stay in. The two of you had ended up on his couch watching tv. You somehow got turned to be cuddled against his chest and he realized after about twenty minutes you were fast asleep. You’d trusted him to go to sleep on him. Just having you that close made his heart feel like it found where it truly belonged.

The first time he told you he loved you was after a bad call. Him and Casey had gotten trapped and just when it looked like that was in the rest of the truck managed to get to them. He’d gone ahead with the ambulance ride just to have an excuse with Boden.

___________________

He could still remember the look in your eyes when you saw him on one of the gurneys then you came busting into the exam room “KELLY SEVERIDE” he grinned at the sound of your voice as Connor examined him. “I believe you know my girlfriend” Connor nodded “She keeps me on my toes”

You shook your head at them both and walked over next to the bed, side eyeing Connor as you picked up the chart off the foot of the bed and started flicking through it.

“Minor smoke inhalation, waiting on xray but nothing appears broken” Connor told you and you nodded, eyes flicking back towards Kelly.

“His brain. His brain is definitely broken because I know for a fact Boden had to make him and Matt both bring their asses in” Kelly shook his head “I came willingly. I wanted to see you”

Connor looked from you to him “I'm gonna step out, give you two a minute. When xray gets down here I'll knock” “Thanks Rhodes” Kelly told him and he nodded and winked at you before walking out.

You waited until Connor was out of the room to face him and it was only then he saw the tears in your eyes “You fucking scared the shit out of me” “Come here baby” he whispered, holding a hand out towards you so you let him pull you into his arms.

You laid your head over on his shoulder, not caring about the fact that you were getting filthy from his clothes “I don't want to lose you Kelly” you whispered and he kissed the top of your head “It scared me too, the thought of never seeing you again” he admitted and you leaned back to look up at him, soot smeared on your cheek from his jacket “I'm sorry for yelling at you”

He grinned “It's ok sweetheart. I love you way too much for a little yelling to bother me” he hadn't realized what he said until a broad grin slipped onto your face “You what?”

He laughed lightly “I love you. I know it's bad timing but…” he was cut off by you pulling him into a kiss. He pulled you closer, trying to deepen the kiss but you pulled away laughing when he chased your lips. “Baby C'mon I'm hurt” he tried and you shook your head “Just wanted to say I love you too Kelly” before he could say anything else you pulled him back to you.

Kelly rolled over to find you curled up to your pillow wearing his shirt from the night before. He'd barely talked you into slipping it on after he helped you clean up, you'd been exhausted when the two of you got back from the fundraiser and just wanted out of the dress you wore.

He hadn't had any intentions of trying to have sex but the moment he unzipped your dress it was like a switch flipped you went from yawning to looking over your shoulder at him with that look that could get him to agree to anything. Needless to say by the time the two of you finally fell asleep you'd been out like a light. Even now you were snoring lightly, something that he knew embarrassed you but he found it fucking adorable.

He smiled and turned over to face you so he could watch you sleep. Neither of you had to work today and he couldn't think of a better way to spend his day off.

[dilfismz]

Playing Dangerous Part 3

Summary: After returning to the games Sangwoo helps you out…but why?

Pairing: Cho Sangwoo X reader. Eventual Hwang In-ho X reader.

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: I saw this gif and knew I HAD to use it 🤤

Previous

You weren’t the only one who had returned. As you moved further down the hall, you noticed him. Sangwoo. Standing still, as always, his eyes scanning the space with a detached intensity. You couldn’t help but feel a subtle flicker of something—maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was just the circumstances—but he seemed oddly comforting in a place like this.

“Back again?” His voice was steady, with that same calm, almost unreadable quality that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

You didn’t flinch at the sight of him. Maybe it was because you’d expected this, or maybe you just didn’t have the energy to be surprised anymore.

“Guess I didn’t have much of a choice,” you replied, trying to keep the sharpness from your voice, but it was hard when the reality of the situation kept hitting you.

Sangwoo studied you for a long moment, his gaze lingering just a little too long. There was something in the way he looked at you—unspoken, something hard to place. He didn’t answer, just nodded once and turned his gaze away, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already thinking several steps ahead.

Before you could process it, a skittish figure is walking toward you , and there he was—Gi-hun. Your heart sank at the sight of him, though you quickly masked it. How had he ended up back here? You had thought he was done.

He paused when his eyes met yours, a flash of surprise crossing his features. “You’re here too?” Gi-hun asked, his voice slightly hoarse from the strain of everything.

You gave a half-smile, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah. Seems like it.” You kept it short, still trying to wrap your mind around what the hell had just happened.

Gi-hun’s expression softened at your words, but then his eyes darted over to Sangwoo, and there was a shift—just a small one. He clearly wasn’t sure what to make of the man standing beside you, and for a second, it felt like the air grew thick with unspoken tension.

“Didn’t expect you to be back,” Gi-hun said, his eyes flicking between you and Sangwoo. His voice was a little softer now, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t truly alone here.

You shrugged, but it was more out of a lack of a better response than anything else. “I didn’t have a choice. Neither did you, apparently.”

There was a brief silence before Gi-hun asked, hesitantly, “What do you think the next game will be?” His voice was tentative, like he didn’t quite want to admit that he was still trying to make sense of everything.

The question hung in the air for a moment, and you couldn’t help it. You let out a small, almost sarcastic laugh.

“You want me to guess Korean children’s games? I’m American, Gi-hun. How would I know?” You shook your head, but a flicker of amusement passed through your eyes. It felt almost out of place here, but you couldn’t help it. Laughing was easier than thinking about what you were about to face.

Gi-hun blinked, clearly taken aback by your response. “Ah… Sorry. I didn’t think about that.” He shifted awkwardly, his face turning a bit pink from the embarrassment. “I guess we’re all just trying to make sense of this mess.”

You couldn’t help but give him a reassuring smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s fine. We’re all in the same boat.”

Sangwoo, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chuckled softly under his breath. His eyes flicked to you for just a moment, studying you intently as if you’d caught him off guard.

The sound of his chuckle was quiet, almost imperceptible, but you heard it. You glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “What’s so funny?”

His gaze didn’t waver as he met your eyes. “You. You’re laughing at a time like this,” he said quietly, voice calm but with an undercurrent of something else—admiration?

You stiffened for just a second, not sure how to react. His words weren’t insulting, but they caught you off guard. “Yeah, well, what else can I do…,” you trailed off, averting your gaze, suddenly aware of the heat creeping up your neck. It was a subtle shift in the air between you, something you couldn’t place but felt all the same.

Gi-hun, oblivious to the quiet exchange between you and Sangwoo, cleared his throat and spoke up. “So… what’s the plan? How do we get out of here?” His voice was slightly more urgent now. The idea of escape was probably running through all your minds.

You glanced between Gi-hun and Sangwoo, the tension in the room palpable. Neither of them had answers, but you knew one thing: survival was the priority. “The plan?” you said, letting out a small sigh. “We make it out alive. That’s all we can do right now.”

Gi-hun’s face softened, a quiet understanding passing between you. He didn’t have all the answers, but neither did you. Still, his eyes held something that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe hope? Or maybe it was just the camaraderie of two people who had made it out once and were now facing the game again.

Sangwoo, however, stayed eerily calm as ever, his expression unreadable. He was a master of hiding whatever thoughts might be running through his mind, but you could feel the weight of his presence next to you. His silence, in that moment, wasn’t uncomfortable—it was almost a strange comfort.

Gi-hun gave a small nod. “I guess that’s all we can do.”

“Exactly,” you said, your voice firm as you looked back toward the door. You couldn’t afford to let your guard down. Not now.

As the three of you stood there in uneasy silence, the sense of unspoken tension lingered. You could feel Sangwoo’s gaze on you every so often, and it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was like he was studying you, trying to figure you out. But you weren’t going to make it easy for him.

Gi-hun, on the other hand, seemed genuinely relieved to have someone to talk to. His presence felt more like a quiet anchor, something familiar amidst all the chaos. He didn’t try to figure you out; he just wanted to survive—and maybe even find a friend in this hell.

For now, that was enough.

Suddenly, the metallic creak of the massive doors echoed through the room as the guards ushered the remaining players forward.

The air was thick with apprehension, murmurs of uncertainty rippling through the crowd. No one knew what awaited them on the other side, but the tension was suffocating.

You kept your expression unreadable, scanning the room as you followed the current of bodies toward the next game. Your senses were sharp, trained to pick up the slightest signs of distress, and right now, you were drowning in them.

Then, you saw him. Sangwoo was a few paces ahead, his movements controlled, but you could see the stiffness in his shoulders. Something was off. His mind was working, calculating. And then, suddenly—he turned.

Before you could react, he was pushing his way through the crowd, making a direct line for you. His urgency was subtle, but you caught it immediately. You barely had time to process before he was right in front of you, lowering his voice so only you could hear.

“It’s dalgona,” he murmured, his breath barely brushing your ear.

Your steps faltered. “What?”

“The next game,” he said, glancing around before looking back at you. “It’s dalgona.”

Your brain worked fast, piecing together what you knew. Dalgona. A fragile honeycomb candy with a delicate shape pressed into the center. The goal? Carve out the shape without breaking it. Simple in theory. Deadly in practice.

You stared at him, trying to mask the sudden rush of thoughts. “How do you know that?”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Sangwoo whispered, his voice steady, but there was an edge to it—like he wasn’t sure whether sharing this was a mistake.

Your first instinct was to ask why he was telling you. Sangwoo wasn’t the type to go around handing out free information. But the way he was looking at you, sharp and deliberate, made the question die on your tongue.

Instead, you asked, “What’s the strategy?”

Sangwoo exhaled quietly, shifting slightly as the line inched forward. He was close—closer than he probably needed to be—but neither of you moved. “The shape you get determines whether you survive. There are easier ones and harder ones. If you get a bad one, you’re as good as dead.”

Your jaw clenched, “And you think you can control which shape you get?”

His lips barely curved into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “Maybe.”

You didn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated. Probably both. Sangwoo’s eyes flickered over you once, then he said, “Stay close to me.”

It wasn’t a request. You arched a brow, more out of reflex than anything.

“Why?”

“Because I know what to do.” His confidence was maddening, but you couldn’t ignore the logic in it. If anyone could manipulate the game in his favor, it was Sangwoo. And right now? Survival was all that mattered. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between you.

Then, you gave a small nod and a flicker of something passed over his face—satisfaction, maybe—but it was gone before you could name it. He stepped back just as the line reached the entrance of the next game. You squared your shoulders, inhaling deeply, and stepped inside.

This game room was enormous, the walls painted with pastel-colored playground murals that felt disturbingly out of place. At the center stood four massive panels, each one painted with a different shape—a circle, a triangle, a star, and an umbrella. The guards ordered everyone to form lines in front of a shape of their choosing. Murmurs of confusion filled the room, but Sangwoo stood beside you, unnervingly calm, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jumpsuit.

You could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, but his face remained unreadable. Gi-hun, standing a few feet away, glanced back at him. “Sangwoo, what shape should I pick?”

Your eyes flicked to Sangwoo immediately, watching his reaction. This was it—this was the moment he could’ve told Gi-hun the truth. But he didn’t. Instead, he hesitated just long enough to feign uncertainty. His lips parted slightly, like he was going to answer, but then he closed them again.

Gi-hun, taking that hesitation as genuine cluelessness, exhaled sharply. “Screw it,” he muttered, before moving toward the umbrella.

Sangwoo didn’t stop him.

You watched the whole thing unfold, your stomach twisting slightly. He had known. He had let Gi-hun walk into his own death sentence. Your mind barely had time to process it before Sangwoo suddenly grabbed your wrist. The touch was firm but not forceful, his fingers warm against your skin. Without a word, he pulled you toward the triangle.

“Here,” he murmured, releasing you as he stepped into place. You stared at him, pulse steady but mind racing.

“You just let him go to the umbrella,” you said, voice low enough that only he could hear.

Sangwoo didn’t look at you right away. He kept his gaze forward, jaw tight, “I can’t save everyone.”

His words were quiet, but there was something sharp beneath them. A cold sort of finality. You clenched your jaw, but you didn’t argue. You weren’t naïve. You knew what this game was. You knew how it worked. Survival meant making choices, and sometimes, those choices meant leaving others behind. Still, something about it sat heavy in your chest.

The guards began passing out small, round tins to each player. You took yours, flipping open the lid to reveal a thin slab of honeycomb candy. Pressed into its center was a triangle. Your lips pressed together as you glanced at Sangwoo’s.

Same shape.

You exhaled slowly, forcing your mind into focus. This wasn’t the time for emotions. This wasn’t the time for anything except precision and control. Sangwoo tilted his head slightly, watching you as you picked up your needle. His gaze lingered, studying your expression. “Just take your time,” he murmured, “Don’t rush it.”

You nodded, gripping the needle a little tighter. The sound of a gunshot rang through the air, followed by a scream. The game had already begun.

The room was filled with the sharp, grating sound of needles scraping against hardened sugar. Gunshots rang out intermittently, each one punctuating a failed attempt, a life lost. But you didn’t flinch. You were trained to block out distractions, to focus only on the task in front of you.

You sat cross-legged on the ground, back straight, hands steady as you traced the edge of your triangle with the tip of your needle.

Beside you, Sangwoo worked on his own, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed—but you knew better. His fingers were careful, his movements precise. For a while, the two of you worked in silence, carving away at the fragile candy.

But after a few minutes, you started to notice something. He kept looking at you. It wasn’t obvious, just quick glances from the corner of his eye. A subtle flick of his gaze toward your hands, watching the needle, checking the pressure you were applying. Making sure you weren’t making a mistake.

You frowned slightly, your focus never wavering. But after the third time, you finally exhaled sharply and spoke under your breath, “Sangwoo.”

He didn’t react right away, but his hand stilled briefly.

You didn’t look at him as you continued working, voice low and firm, “If you keep worrying about me, you’re gonna mess up your own cookie. Keep your eyes on yourself.”

At that, you heard him let out the smallest breath—a huff, almost like a laugh, though it was barely there.

Then, silence.

A moment later, you felt him shift beside you. You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the faintest hint of color rising to his ears. You blinked. Is he… blushing? You didn’t comment on it, but something about it caught you off guard. Sangwoo, the man who calculated his every move, who rarely let emotion slip through the cracks—was flustered? Maybe he realized it too, because he cleared his throat and muttered, “Just… don’t mess up.”

You smirked slightly. “Right back at you.”

The two of you lapsed back into silence, working in unspoken tandem. Then you heard a crack from right underneath you, fearfully you glance down at your cookie only to see that it’s broken but the shape is still Intact.

You’re finished- you did it.

A quiet wave of relief washed over you, but you didn’t celebrate. Instead, you turned to Sangwoo just as he pulled the final piece away from his own cookie.

His was perfect too.

Your eyes met for a split second. No words were exchanged, but the weight of survival settled between you both. The sound of a guard’s footsteps approached, and you both held out your completed shapes.

The masked figures examined them briefly before nodding and walking away. You exhaled slowly. Alive.

As you stood, stretching out your legs, your mind drifted elsewhere. Gi-hun. You scanned the room instinctively, searching for any sign of him, but the crowd made it difficult to see. You didn’t know why, but something in you hoped he was still here. That he was still fighting.

Sangwoo, now standing beside you, followed your gaze but didn’t say anything. Instead, he nudged your arm lightly. “Come on,” he murmured. “It’s not over yet.”

You nodded, pushing thoughts of Gi-hun aside—for now. Because Sangwoo was right, there is so much more to come.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Kiss Me Before I Go

Jim Street prank blurb! 0.8k+ words of you avoiding Jim's kisses

Months ago, there was a trend where women secretly recorded their significant other as they were leaving. When inevitably told, “I love you,” they didn’t say it back. Some reactions were entertaining, some heartwarming, and some revealed red flags in the relationship. Chris had been the one to show you the first video, and for the next two weeks, Street would get as close as humanly possible to you before he said those three remarkable words. He’d glare until you said it back, then smile, kiss your forehead, and leave.

Now that he’s likely forgotten about it, you have the perfect opportunity to prank him. Not with the same idea, of course, because that would be too easy. No, you’re going to avoid his kisses. For someone as physically affectionate as Street, you anticipate his reaction will be interesting.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come tonight?” Street asks as he walks into your living room. “I can ask Deac to bring Annie so you’re not alone, if you want.”

“No, I’m good,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you for the offer. I have a few things I can do here. I mean, the TV isn’t going to watch itself.”

Street pretends to laugh as he slides his keys into his pocket.

“Let me know if you change your mind or if you need me to come back and help with those chores.”

“Will do.”

Street leans over the back of the couch to kiss you, and you turn so his lips hit your cheek. He hesitates, then rubs your shoulder and disappears down the hall. You listen, hear the water turn on in the bathroom, and return your attention to the TV. Your phone is lying against the tissue box on the coffee table, inconspicuously recording.

“Alright,” Street murmurs as he returns.

He walks around the couch this time and lowers to be face-to-face with you. As he leans in, you move just far enough that he kisses your nose rather than your lips.

“Okay, what?” Street inquires, leaning his weight against the cushion you’re sitting on. “I brushed my teeth, so I know it’s not my breath. I shaved this morning so you can’t say it tickles. Why won’t you let me kiss you?”

“I will,” you answer, lifting your brows slightly. “What do you mean?”

Street leans in again, and you move to the side. He falls against you dramatically, clinging to your shoulders as he sinks to his knees.

“What did I say? I say a lot of stupid things, you know that,” he pleads into your shoulder.

“What are you talking about, Jim?” you inquire innocently.

Street shifts to kiss your neck and then sighs. He leans more of his weight against you, and you groan while you try to push him up.

“I guess I’ll die here,” he complains.

“Get up,” you say with a laugh. “Your friends are waiting for you.”

“And I’m waiting for a kiss.”

You kiss his forehead, and he sighs again.

“There, a kiss,” you comment. “Now, go.”

“No.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you groan.

Street raises one hand to your cheek and pats you gently.

“Fine, kiss me and get out.”

“I don’t like that tone,” he argues.

Still, he sits up and kisses you. You try to move away again, but he wraps his arm around your waist and holds you against the couch as his lips meet yours. Your mumbled argument stops when Street cups your jaw, and you kiss him in return.

“Was that so hard?” he asks as he pulls back.

“It was a prank,” you whisper, smiling. “Sorry.”

Street’s expression levels, and he stands abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” you say, moving to stand with him.

He reaches for your phone and ends the recording. “Is my desperation and heartbreak entertaining to you?”

“Sometimes.”

Street shakes his head and sits beside you, pulling you roughly against his side before he pulls your legs over his.

“Now I’m not going.”

“You have to! I really am sorry, I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“I’ve been deprived,” Street laments. “How can I offer my company when I can’t even get my girlfriend to kiss me?”

Street prepares to continue his dramatic woes, so you roll your eyes and shift so you’re partly in his lap before you kiss him. He wraps his arms around your waist and leans back against the couch, both deaf to your phones ringing as your friends wonder what Street is doing that’s more important than a team night. Chris is the first to point out that you’re not there either.