#hiatus til who knows when

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot���a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[saintajax]

Coming in to say that im practicing my makeup for tomorrow night and humbly asking for eyeliner tips bc how tf do y’all do this 😭

[freyito]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴅᴏ

so sorry for the little mini hiatus! im finally allllll moved in and i think all i really needed was like. a clean space. refreshed my mind a bit, lol. can't promise i'll have a steady schedule cause im still working on my inbox, just dont wanna get anything done (after this) til i've finished my new masterlists... anyways! ideas been in my head forever, need to get it off my chest NOW

cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

⎯ Liu Kang

Liu Kang will come up with poetry ON THE SPOT. It's crazy scary how quick he is with it. He chooses something about you and just runs with it. How your eyes are just the most enticing color in the sunlight, just how beautiful you are in kombat...

⎯ Bi-Han

Bi-Han will place little notes around the house or on things he knows you use often. He'll place one on the cover of the book your currently reading, or even within the pages. Little love notes, mainly motivating you, praising you... but he'll write a simple 'I love you', too.

⎯ Kuai Liang

Specifically whenever it's colder, Kuai willpull you in for a hug, and make his body temperature increase. He'll do it under different circumstances sometimes, even to tease you. He likes to keep you close as his temperature steadily rises. Perfect for cold nights.

⎯ Johnny Cage

Footsies. Anytime you two are sitting across from each other, either at the dinner table, or at some fancy restaurant, Johnny's always tapping at your shins, your knee, anything. Brings you closer, in a way.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi has a habit of placing his hand on your head, whenever he feels like it. He'll play with your hair, or scratch at your scalp. He likes the texture, but he also just enjoys messing with you a little bit.

⎯ Kung Lao

Tickling you. Always and forever. Kung Lao will take the most inopportune moments to taze your sides, find those soft bits of flesh that make you giggle in just the right way.

⎯ Raiden

Raiden will do the little heart thing with his hands (or fingers) from across the room when he can't be with you. Eventually, he'll even try to do it with his lightning. It's an uncontrollable variable, and it takes him so LONG to get ahold of it. But, when he finally gets it, he's all giddy.

⎯ Zeffeero

As much as Rain groans and complains that his magic shouldn't be used for mundane things or fun, sometimes he'll form water into little hearts or stars. All for you. But he'll do it away from you, and kind of side-eye you, to make sure your watching.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Smoke has a tendency to sway whenever you two hug. Specifically when it's a longer hug. He just finds the motion comforting! He'll hum a little as he does this, too. That hum starts small, but then it catches on, he'll hum the same tune to you before you fall asleep.

⎯ Baraka

Point. Why? Baraka doesn't know. But he kinda likes your reaction. You two have a little game where he'll point, and you'll pop up and look around, do the whole "who, me?" thing. It's like a displacement behavior for him. Secretly, he kind of just wants to place his whole hand on your face like a basketball. He won't. Too risky.

⎯ Geras

Since Geras is still kind of unfamiliar with mortal love, he'll bring you little vials of sand. Kind of like bottles of shelves you'd find in a souvenir shop? He also most definitely asks Liu Kang for help throughout your relationship. So, normally, you get sent little (they're not little actually, they're like 5-page essays) love letters via Liu Kang.

⎯ Syzoth

Syzoth will flick his tongue over your cheek unintentionally. He swears! He's not doing it on purpose! You'll be lying down, or just close in general, and boom! There's the tongue!

⎯ Havik

Havik does that thing where he'll pull you in with one arm around your shoulder and one on the side of your head, and shake you gently. He'll make a little "rah" sound, it's a whole thing. Sometimes he's just over-whelmed with the urge to do that.

⎯ Shao Kahn

Sometimes, whenever Shao passes by you, he'll take you by your hand, and spin you. He'll chuckle and go back to what he was doing. But sometimes, it turns into full blown dancing.

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang loves passing winks to you. He'll do it when he's too busy, he doesn't even use it to imply something. He'll do that super corny thing where he over-exaggerates his face and winks at you a LOT.

⎯ Reiko

Whether Reiko's just sparring, or in a genuine match, he'll always dedicate it to you. Even if you're not there. He'll whisper something for you under his breath, then beat the shit out of his opponent. He also loves bragging about his achievements to you. Only you. A soldier MUST have some humility.

⎯ Takeda Takahashi

Takeda loves saying your name in a real stupid sing-song voice. Dragging it out, horribly, in such a cheesy manor. He'll bring his voice up all high pitch and even bring his hands up to his face.

⎯ Erron Black

As much as Erron tries to be smooth with it, he kinda fails at hiding the fact that he's doing this for you. He exaggerates his accent, he'll quote all sorts of westerns, and just play reaaaaal hard into the Cowboy part for you.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[nicohischierz]

who's afraid of little old me?: nico x player!reader

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

you stalked the comments under your post, whilst you knew you shouldn't have paid any attention to what was being said, you couldn't help yourself as curiosity got the best of you.

negativity is something everyone would tell you not to pay attention to but it was hard to do so when it was everywhere. it was as if the fans were ready to attack you at any point.

they didn't understand the hard work you put in to make it to the NHL. the blood, sweat and tears that went into ensuring your place in a professional hockey league.

the comments made by fans who didn't appreciate your hiatus were something you expected but after years of enduring such unnecessary hate, their comments only fuelled your want to play better in the season to come.

after giving birth to your daughter, you readied yourself for world championship games and surprised everyone when your name appeared on the list.

your interview was like a record scratch at a party. the interviewers asked about the influx of negativity towards you and you replied "who's afraid of little old me?"

they laughed it off as a joke but in your mind, you knew they should be.

the news of yours and nico's relationship spread like wildfire amongst the hockey community. adding the birth of your child made people question whether you were on the team for your skill or convenience.

whilst both of you were happy to be open about your relationship, you couldn't help but wonder why your name was the only one being tarnished.

"schatz, i will tell all of them to stop what they are saying. they wouldn't be true fans if they think it is okay to bring one of us down," nico promised one night.

you turned to him and smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. "you don't have to worry. it's not anything new,"

not only was your relationship the talk of the summer, but once the season had started paul bisonette made it his life's mission to make snide remarks about you relationship.

the jokes piled up as you played game after game, until one day you couldn't take it anymore. you sat in your apartment, tears streaming down your face as another joke made its way around the internet.

the devils were playing the rangers and body's were being thrown throughout the whole game. whilst you were a person who wasn't afraid to lay a hit, you steered away from fights.

but as a player from the opposing team chirped in your ear every moment he could, you dropped the gloves landing punch after punch until the referees pulled you apart.

in your post-game interview, a reporter asked what prompted you to start the fight and you answered. "I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean. it was about time I reminded everyone why I'm here,"

yourusername

yourusername: who's afraid of little old me?

no matter what you did, it seemed that the media was out to get you. now people were questioning your abilities as a mother as you continued on with your career.

"nico you tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is? every article about the devils has mentioned me in some and you can stand here and tell me that they didn't do it to hurt me," you screamed.

you came back to the season, feistier than before. showing everyone just how disturbed they made you. starting fights whenever and raking up your penalty minutes.

the older guys in the league (sidney crosby, matt martin and brad marchand) had all expressed their concern for the way you were acting and staged an intervention.

during the all-star break, they cornered you in your home and interrogated you about your behaviour. "we know what it's like to have all this media attention so you don't have to fight this on your own," matt prompted

you shrugged his hands off your shoulder and stood up. "all of you can talk about your difficulties but you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me. i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all say?" you retorted, referring to your post-game interview where your frustrated tears were addressed by everyone.

as the season came to an end, the devils had clinched a playoff spot and you had been scratched the past five games. your behaviour had changed since your talk with sid, matt martin and brad but the three knew the media's words made a lasting impact on you.

so as the devils faced off against the penguins for the first round and reporters asked if you would play the way you have all season you replied, "I am the way I am because of the media. you all act afraid of me when this the a product of the belittling I received upon coming back,"

[theeliampayne]

here's some fics I've enjoyed in April! Hoping to make one of these every month from now on. If you read any of these, please leave the authors kudos and/or comments!

skinny dip (in water under the bridge) by @itsnotreal / hazzahtomlinson (880) [louis/harry]

It’s a Wednesday and nostalgia might just get the best of Louis.

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover. by ziamscherry (921) [zayn/liam]

Liam proposes twice and Zayn finally says yes.

I'll knock on your door, it will save me from calling by @hl-obsessed / hl-obsessed (RozaDhampir) (5.7k) [zouis/larry/ziam]

Louis hears "Good Years" for the first time. Harry is there to pick up the pieces. or Zayn makes some questionable choices. Louis makes some long awaited moves. Sometimes heart broken all over again is the first step to healing and making everything right again. *** Dedicated to everyone who ever lost a friend, and still don't know why.

I Roll 'til I Change My Luck by @larry-hiatus (8.4k) [louis/harry]

Dating is hard enough when you're gay. When Louis reveals to his Tinder matches that he uses a wheelchair and has a service dog, things tend to get even more complicated. Too bad the guys on dating apps aren't as sweet and understanding as his best friend Harry...

I Want You Here With Me (Like How I Pictured It) by @enchantedlandcoffee (345) [louis/harry]

"I just- Everyone was there and- and they were all happy and in love and I just- I needed to get out of there, Lou." Harry sniffled, wrapping his coat closer to himself as he trudged down the street. "It's not fair. It's not fair that they all get to be happy and in love and have their partners with them when I can't be with you." OR The one where Harry misses Louis

[yuzukult]

hi everyone !!

i’ve been doing some thinking, and truthfully even though i’ve tried really hard to push myself to write again, i’ve lost a lot of inspiration.

i really do love writing & how challenging it was, but i think my peak was when a lot of my writer peers were active & engaging. life hits tho and everyone that i know now has put a pause to their writing to move on.

i will say though, maybe this is a “goodbye, i’ll see you again soon” rather than a “goodbye forever.”

this sounds selfish, but financially, i would rather do something else to make money instead of writing for fun (ik, i’m sorry i said it like that). i’m at that point in my life where i do need money to pay the bills and this hobby wasn’t putting much in my bank (although i’m grateful to those who donated to my kofi !!) so i’ve dedicated more of my time to routes that will earn me more ☹️

i do have works still stuck in my drafts, so maybe i will revisit them once again!! you never know.

but for now, i think it’s proper for me to say goodbye & to stop pushing myself to write because i don’t want to write if my content doesn’t carry my pride with it 🙁

thank you all for following me up til now !! we shall see what the future holds. i will be pausing all of my writing for now, maybe this will be a hiatus !!

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fan fics that have Clifford Tomlinson, the dog, featured in them as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

— Louis/Harry —

🐶 Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(M, 113k, Scotland) As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

🐶 Take a Chance on Me by velvetnoodle

(E, 96k, kid fic) the Strangers to Enemies to Friends to Lovers Roommate AU you didn’t know you needed, feat. Single Dad!Harry, Footie Coach!Louis, a precocious 9 year old, a band of meddling family members, an overly excited labradoodle, an extremely Done cat, and a Shiall wedding you’ll never forget

🐶 Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren

(E, 42k, a/b/o) Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

🐶 Marcel (series) by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(E, 36k, strangers to lovers) the one where Niall gave Marcel’s number to someone he worked with and Marcel wasn’t too pleased about it.

🐶 You Wouldn't Believe the Dream I Just Had About You & Me by @larryatendoftheday

(E, 21k, friends to lovers) After a back-to-school bash and a few too many drinks, Harry finds himself pregnant from a one-night stand he doesn’t remember. 

🐶 Absolutely Smitten by MyEnglishRose / @lwtisloved

(E, 20k, strangers to lovers) Louis is walking his dog. Harry is walking his cat. Leashes get tangled, and feelings too.

🐶 Like How I Pictured It by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 17k, friends to lovers) Louis Tomlinson hasn’t always been blind. As a child, his vision was impaired, but he had hopes that there would be years before he lost his sight completely. 

🐶 Between the forest and the field by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 16k, small town) the one where Harry recently moved to a village and his shy dog picks Louis' dogs to play with at the dog park. A fluffy cottage core AU.

🐶 Clumsy by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10

(E, 12k, strangers to lovers) when Cliff manages to trip over a handsome stranger, on Valentine’s Day of all days, it might just be the start of something new and exciting...

🐶 Somebody Get Me Through This Nightmare by @lululawrence

(NR, 11k, neighbors) “I am not subjecting you to my poor dog in his moment of vulnerability!” Louis cried. “That would be cruel to you, but also to Clifford.”

🐶 good, good graces by @muldxr

(E, 10k, dom/sub) the one where Harry's boyfriend Louis gets a new puppy and frequently tells the dog how he's a good boy. Harry gets jealous and decides to show Louis how much of a good boy he can be.

🐶 Just the Start by @littleroverlouis

(M, 9k, older characters) Louis is a fifty-two year old divorcé who has fallen into rut. He never anticipated a forced day of self care, and a chance meeting with a charming salon owner would shake him out of his comfort zone.

🐶 I Roll 'til I Change My Luck by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus

(T, 8k, friends to lovers) When Louis reveals to his Tinder matches that he uses a wheelchair and has a service dog, things tend to get even more complicated. 

🐶 Warm Chilling by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow

(G, 7k, neighbors) Louis moves into a cosy cottage in the English countryside with his dog Clifford to look after his great-aunt's animals. 

🐶 Wanted: Dog Walker by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(G, 6k, neighbors) Louis needs a dog walker. Harry answers the ad.

🐶 Love on the b(rain) by TeamLouis / @teamlouis2023

(G, 4k, misunderstandings) During a stormy night, when Louis realizes that his precious dog has escaped the house, he has no other choice than calling his ex-husband.

🐶 To the late night double feature show by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(NR, 2k, Halloween) “Sorry!” says someone. "I just wanted to know if I could pet your dog?”

🐶 Safe Like Springtime by cherrylarry / @beelou

(G, 1k, meet cute) the one where Harry takes his nephew to the park and runs into Louis and his Labradoodle Clifford.

— Rare Pairs —

🐶 Longer Night by @turnyourankle

(E, 2k, Louis/Luke Malak) What happened after the 'Long day' photo was taken? Probably this.

🐶 acrobatic blood by Anonymous 

(G, 2k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) “Thought you’d gone home,” Nick croaks miserably. Louis rolls his eyes. “This is my home, dickhead.” A coming out fic.

🐶 Next Door by @allwaswell16

(NR, 2k, Louis/Rob Pattinson) When a stray cat starts coming round Louis' garden and bothering his dog, Louis and his best friend set out to capture it.

[narcolini]

white room - pt. 5

johnny davis x gn!reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 5.8k words, 5 of ? ao3 link | previous part a/n: hellow :3 we are back after an unexpected hiatus and lips finally gets to meet benny ! very exciting all round <3 i hope you like it and forgive me for falling off planet earth for a bit

Might sound kind of stupid, but recently, you been thinking that you’ve finally got it all worked out—about Benny, that is. Somewhere between the last time you saw him, and the Saturday of the picnic, Johnny’s weird kinda way of talking around him started making a whole load of sense. And it wasn’t just some little joke when he said he didn’t want you knowing Benny, it was pretty much sort of the truth, you think, hidden under all the hums and grumbles of him. He actually was cut up about it a little. Nervous, though someone like Johnny never aught’a be nervous about nothing. And you really would never say it to his face, or anyone else’s for that matter, but you’ve even been considering the possibility that Benny might be part of the reason things with him and Betty didn’t work out. 

Fuckin’ rat up the drain pipe sort of shit, right? Never saw it coming ’til it started scratching at your head one night. You were lying there staring at the ceiling and thinking, huh, Johnny talks about Benny the way you’d be talking about Johnny, should anyone ever ask you about him when you didn’t really wanna say nothing. Eh, he’s just some guy, you’d say, yeah, we hang around with each other, you know, doing stuff. Stuff, and other things and what not. 

Like, he’s got a hold on him, alright, the same one Johnny’s got on you. A real, steel grip, hold. You started off thinking well maybe it’s a jealous type of thing, you know, old guy wanting to step into the young buck’s riding boots, but it ain’t just that. Can’t be. Half of Johnny’s crew are ten years younger than him, but well, they aren’t Benny, right? And there’s something about the way he looks at him—the few times you’ve been around to catch it—something ‘bout the way Johnny watches him. And talks about him. And makes excuses for him, and the way he is. Sure, he may like him like he wants to be him, you know, foot taller, blonde, pretty as anything, but by the time Saturday rolls around and you’ve really sat on it for a while, you’re starting to think: well, what if he likes him the way every girl that ever meets Benny likes him? The way even you might’a liked him, had you never seen Johnny, of course.

Seems obvious once you’ve really put some time into the idea. Nothing about Johnny says he couldn’t be liking men the same way you do and, jeez, maybe you’re dumb for it, but even with all of that, you can’t find a single part of yourself that seems to mind. Johnny still treats you good, still makes the nights feel longer than the days—and he invited you to this picnic of theirs, which he says is only ever for wives and girlfriends and serious things like, so you figure you’re someone real important to him now, cause even if you aren’t one of those things, you’re something, right? And he did all of that with Benny around, so what difference does it make to you? Sure, you can share as long as everyone’s playing nice, you’re not spoiled or nothing.

Well, alright, maybe not share, you aren’t an angel—who is?—but right now, if Johnny likes Benny like he likes you, he sure don’t even know it yet. Or if he does, he’s still two hundred miles back from dealing with the meaning of it, and you know he’s not planning on running nowhere on those knees of his, so it’s whatever, right? Can’t fix nothing if it ain’t broke yet.

“You like dirt bikes?” he asks, while he’s dragging you across this damn field that you spent all morning riding for, grass wet from yesterday’s rain still. No place for any sort of picnic you’ve been to, but for Vandals, sure, it’s like a natural haven to them or something. 

“I never liked any sort of bike ’til I met you, Johnny.”

“Yeah,” he winds, like he knew as much but didn’t really care in the first place, “few of us are gonna race ‘em. See that track there?”

You see nothing but a whole load’a mud on top of another bunch of it. “Mhmm.”

“That’s where this whole thing started.” 

“And when you go spinning over the handlebars, that’s where it’ll end it up,” you say.

He laughs, but he goes on, “I’m serious,” through the smirk of it. “That’s where me and Brucey got the idea for the club in the first place. Well, that and, yeah.” He nods. “Here, when we was racing.” He waves toward the tracks in the dirt, and the bikes in the dirt, and the men that are fifty-percent fuckin’ dirt, like the whole lot is some sort of sacred ground to him, like he’s just a humble guide blessing you by bringing you here, then he says, “and I never come off no more, so don’t worry about it.”

And you like him enough to go along with it, cheesy Colby Jack that you are. “It’s something special,” you tell him, mostly meaning it. Well, all the way meaning it, but only in the way people look at scraps of metal in a museum cabinet, and think that it’s really something just cause the guys in tweed say that it is. 

“Benny race with you?” you ask him.

“No,” he shakes his head a little, “not his kind of…”

“What, you gotta be short like jockeys to race or something?” 

“No—“ he shoots a confused look at you, then realises that you’re joking, at his expense, and forgives you for it too, all in the same sort of moment, “—would you give it up with that?”

“Hm, think I have maybe three ‘just under six foot jokes’ left in me,” you promise, “but I’ll spare you today.”

“Yeah, you will.” And it’s as much a threat, as it is an invite, cause he’s smiling like a little something or other, and your lips find his in a real awkward, bumpy, kind of way, noses knocking as you walk, you know. Giggling and stuff. Real cutesy lovebird shit that you wouldn’t be repeating to no-one, if you wasn’t, well, you know.

“So where’d he come from then?” you ask, wrapping your free hand around the arm that you’re already attached to. Half-way close to crawling under his leathers, under the shirt and undershirt too, right under the curl of hair beneath that chain that he wears, if you could. “If it wasn’t the racing, I mean.” 

“Benny?”

“Yeah, Benny.” 

You should probably not be asking so much, now you know what you think you know—even if you don’t know it, and have just convinced yourself that you do—but it’s bothering you, well not bothering, but toying with you. He’s never wanted to say much about him and you figure you should take advantage of that sentimental look in his eye, for research purposes, of course.

“He just. He’s just always been around,” he says. “Came through one time needing something, yeah, and he stuck around when he found it. Like any of us would.” 

“You mean Kathy?” 

His face screws up, sort of like a wince almost. “No—me, the club. He needed someplace to be. Something to belong to, you know?”

“Yeah.” You know. 

“All just gotta have somewhere to belong.”

“And you ain’t let go of him since,” you think, not meaning to say it aloud, but saying it anyway, cause Hell, it’s the truth, whichever way you wanna look at it. 

He don’t like it of course. Tightens up right to the sides of his neck, and wrings his hand around the strap of the bag on his other shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “Nothin. It’s good he’s got you guys. And Kathy.”

Johnny nods. That, he can agree to, though he don’t look happy about it. You caught him and let him right back out again, cause you’re not looking to pick fights, and that bothers him as much as if you were, apparently. Keeps him all quiet and rigid as you finish up the trek to where you oughta be. 

The closer you get, the less barbaric it seems. Picnic benches, coolers, brave sorts on tartan blankets right on the rain-wet floor, but still, that sticky, dirt bike track in the middle, winding all over the place.

Not bad, all in all, suppose it is somewhere you don’t mind spending your Saturday so much. 

“Sorry,” you tell him, “for always poking my nose in.”

He squeezes your hand. “S’nothin. We’re mixing it up, right?”

Yeah, Vandal stuff and you stuff. Two hands at once. No more juggling. But, obviously, there are some Benny shaped parts of that, that don’t seem to be mixing too well at all.

You know, you and him haven’t talked once, or so much as breathed the same air at the same time, right, which isn’t too crazy, but would be if it goes on much longer than it has. Cause one time, when Johnny came by, he had Cal with him. And you said hi and stuff, before he went on again—well, it was real heavy on the stuff cause Cal talks exactly as much as you do—and another time, Wahoo and Corky were with him, yeah? And sorta, somehow, you met a few of them; not all, not properly, but a few, and never having more than a bit of small talk, you know, but it was something. 

But you never even got introduced to Benny, so you asked him once, and Johnny said that’s cause Benny is either with his lady, Kathy, or with the guys at the club, or on his own, doing something he shouldn’t. That’s it, supposedly. Course, you said, wait, what? You ain’t never gone nowhere alone with him, just you two? And he just shrugged and made a noise like you should quit talking about it, like you were asking something of him that he couldn’t explain. Like Benny was some sort of mystical kind of guy, like he wasn’t really all the way real, or something. Just a guy you only see when the light’s hitting the right place, or the stars are in a line, or some shit.

Well, today, you decided it’s gonna be different, and you’re gonna talk to him. Properly. You don’t got a choice, right? Cause you figure, you don’t know Johnny ’til you know Benny, and you’re getting real hungry for the full picture of him, if he’s gonna be around so much, that is.

“You mind sitting here while I…?” He points to the bikes, angling you toward the bench he’s apparently picked out for you. Front row, not even a splinter. High prize for the VIP. 

“Yeah,” you throw him a good smile, an easy one, “you go ahead. I’ll watch.”

He looks back at you, all sweet, lips curling, then pulls a helmet from that bag of his—cause apparently, these ones need ‘em, but the other kind don’t—and then he’s off, going like a kid. Half jogging, half walking, and heading right over there to the rest of them. 

They’re skinny bikes, these ones, kinda looking like street dogs. All wiry and bite-y, and a whole world different from the big, hulking, spoiled dogs of his usual sort. No shiny curves and nice painted metal here, just rahh, and grrr, and all that sort of shit. You know which ones you prefer just by looking. And you really know which ones you wouldn’t be caught dead riding on. 

You put your hands in your pockets and wait, looking all sorts of all over the place, cause the racers are chatting still, and no-ones going yet, and that bench actually looks as wet as it is rotten, so you got nothing much else to do other than stand there, looking about you some. 

This can’t be all of them, you don’t think, cause you see some faces you know, and a whole load that you don’t, but no where near enough to be their chapter and the new one combined. But then, is it really all that surprising that Vandals, wherever they’re from, aren’t used to turning up on time? It’ll be nearly evening before it’s a full turn out, no doubt, and, God, standing in a field that long? You had no idea what was coming when you agreed to this.

You look down at your boots, splattered with mud, and try to remember the last time you wore them for longer than a few hours. Which was a long while ago, or maybe never—though you do remember how bad the blisters were, whenever it was, so it must’ve happened once—and you suppose Johnny’s worth living through that again, just about, so you decide to stick with what you were doing. Accepting your fate and that, in with a bunch of people you barely know, looking round ’til one of them knows you too—and then you spot Benny.  

And he must’a saw you before you saw him, cause he’s coming right on over. 

He doesn’t say nothing, so you stay standing with your hands in your pockets, wondering if he was looking at you at all, or if he thinks you’re just some tagalong from Milwaukee, waiting for a bike to polish. But then he stops right next to you, and turns back facing the way he came, and puts his hands in his jacket like he’s copying you or something. 

So you stand, and it’s quiet, and he looks at the guys getting onto their bikes, engines growling and barking all at once, and you think, my God, you have never survived a silence like this. You wanna wait him out, but he could be a mute for all you know. You never even thought of that. He could’a taken a hit to the head coming off his bike and lost his nerve for speaking, or maybe he’s from Europe. Maybe he don’t know a lick of English, especially not the kind you’re gonna be talking, you never even thought to ask Johnny about that—what if it’s that? 

And the longer it goes without him saying nothing, the more certain you are that whatever you end up spitting out is gonna be the most insane thing a person could say to someone they never spoke to before. Like how’s your relationship with my maybe sort of boyfriend going? Anything I should know?

“Think the green’s got this one.”

“What?” Not mute. Not mute, and not European. Talking and pointing and waiting for you to say something back, even though he’s not looking at you, up there, under the flop of his dirty blonde hair, but waiting all the same. Like he’s fly fishing and you’re ignoring the lure no matter how much he flicks it. “Green who?”

“The bike,” he says, “don’t know his name.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Green fucking bike, what do you know? You can’t even tell the colour of the one Johnny’s on, you can’t even see him no more really, not when they go up there by that corner there. 

“Sorry, wasn’t paying attention,” you tell him, and you know you don’t sound sorry, but him talking like he knows you has thrown you all the way off. Your big scheme to get in and get cosy now seems real dumb and real pointless. “You’re Benny, right?”

He nods. Then he pulls his arms tighter, denim pockets bunching above his waist, like he’s freezing—which he might be, cause his jacket don’t have sleeves like Johnny’s does. 

“Feels like you’re the last one of them that I ought to be meeting,” you say, and cause you’re still good mannered and things, you throw your name out for him afterwards. 

“I know,” he says back. “Johnny talks about you.”

“He does?” 

He nods again, which is real great, cause it means he talks just as little as Johnny does, but instead of humming and making noises, he just nods and looks at you. Jeez, he really does look at you. Not too long, nothing creepy, you know, but long enough like he might’ve flicked through the file-o-fax in your head and plucked out exactly what he wanted. 

“Johnny doesn’t talk about anything,” you tell him, hoping that whatever he thinks he saw, is the opposite of what you actually said. “What’s he say, ‘I’m seeing somebody’?”

To your surprise, Benny laughs at that, and shit, he’s as movie star pretty as you’d expect with a smile on his face. It just gets worse with this dude. “Yeah,” he says, “thats, er, that’s pretty much it.”

“Figures. I gotta get him in a headlock before he says shit about you—or anyone else that means something to him.”

He’s looking ahead again, but you can see he’s smiling still, even if it’s small. He really is a quiet type, two minutes in and you’re realising as much already. Even when he’s talking, or doing anything, there’s a real quiet to it, which is probably the last thing you expected to learn about him. None of these biker guys are ever like that, not even Johnny, somehow, he’s loud even when he’s saying nothing. It’s in the face, in the way he carries himself. But Benny? You could switch his colours for a church suit and believe that he was a good kid Sunday through Friday, never speaking back to no-one.

Which makes no damn sense, and can’t be the fucking case, and makes you realise all at once that he’s the sort of person you keep around just to try and solve the puzzle of him. Shy smiles and listening ears in a guy like him, riding bikes like that? Yeah, sure. The club might not be doing much as far as you know, but it sure is doing more than that, and yeah, you remember, he said it once, Johnny said Benny got all wrapped up with some cops a few times, so who the hell is this?

“You like the picnic?” he asks, flicking his head that way.

“Depends on whether there’s any actual picnicking, or if it’s just standing around watching stuff.”

“Yeah, there will be. Kathy, she uh,” he rubs his face on his shoulder, like he’s getting an itch and the itch is small talk, “she brought some stuff,” he says. 

“Then I guess I like it,” you say back. “Skipped breakfast.” And real surely suffering for it, stomach aching like you’ve not even sniffed food in years. 

He puffs a short breath through his nose, like he’s laughing without trying to. “Don’t think I’ve had breakfast since the fourth grade.”

You can’t help it, you answer like you’d answer anyone else, Benny or no Benny. “That’s sad. You know that’s sad, right? No breakfasts, not even as a kid?”

He shrugs, and he don’t seem offended, but he don’t seem amused so much anymore either. He certainly ain’t knocking back with a joke like Johnny would have. 

“I think waffles are a fundamental necessity,” you say, just to say something again. Then you put your focus on the track, cause the wheels are back now, spinning and spitting up wet dirt, and the looped route they took might’ve gone around a couple times without you noticing, cause it seems like they’re done. Like someone’s kicked a stand and thrown his helmet and started shouting like he’s a winner.

“Green,” Benny says, like you might’ve been betting against him. 

“And Johnny—?”

“Third place.”

You find him in the group, grinning like he’d won, helmet on, goggles pushed up over the curve of it. “Used to be faster, right?”

Benny shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You been with the club long?” you ask.

He chances the air, pulling his hands free and a pack of cigarettes along with them. “Feels like it,” he says.

You laugh, though it’s mostly sort of a scoff, and probably sort of rude, but, come on, what’ve you gotta do to get a real answer round here? “Jeez, between your riddles, and Johnny’s half sentences, I don’t know how you guys even found yourself to be friends.”

He cracks a light and takes a drag and you’ve pretty much given up on getting anything more out of him, when he says, “Johnny’s only like that when he’s talking to someone with more to say.”

“Yeah, yeah,” your eyes roll, “Lips, I get it. Course he’s been spreading that around already.” 

“Lips?” He tweaks an eyebrow, looking at you through the smoke.

Great. So you really are just like that. “Dumb name he’s come up with,” you say, though you’d rather not, considering he didn’t know about it until you brought it up. You and your lips. “Why don’t you have one? Don’t seem fair to me. I mean, you got Cockroach, walking round with a name like that, and you get to be just Benny?”

“Things like that aren’t planned.”

“Feels like they are.”

He smirks like you’re real crazy. “And you think I’m a special case?”

“I think you’re the favourite,” you tell him. May as well come out with it.

He snorts. The cigarette smoke goes like an ink spill around his head. “You never figure they don’t give names to people that might not stick around?” he says.

Well, that gets you, because no, you never did think of that. And now that you are thinking bout it, the truth feels like a jackhammer against you and him both. Him, who hasn’t got a name and you, who has one already, willing or not. Johnny wouldn’t stumble into a thing like that by accident, would he? 

“You move around a lot?” you ask, with all interest and no attitude. Cause if he’s right, and that is the reason, he must’a done something to make them think as much.

“Used to,” he says.

“Me too.”

“You miss it?”

“Fuck no,” you laugh, “no, I’m planning to spend a real long time in one place from now on.”

He nods, but he doesn’t comment any more on it, and you take his quiet to mean that he thinks the opposite—well, that and the way he’s looking off now, smoking like he never asked in the first place. All of that seems to you like someone who’s planning on moving around some more, some time, whenever it is, and, if you’re real honest, for a second it reminds you of Mom, and that way she’d be when she started itching for it again. Something new, something unattached. You near enough shiver at the thought. Last thing you want is to be drawing a line between Benny and your mom, at your first big meet-the-family picnic of all places.

“I better check on Kathy,” he says, pointing that way with the red end of his smoke. 

“Yeah,” thank God, “yeah sure, nice meeting you.” You smile, waving as he goes, and he takes all that weird, creeping feeling along with him. 

Half successful, half fucking weird. Benny ain’t the sort you thought he was, but you don’t like him and you don’t dislike him neither, which is probably music to Johnny’s ears, should you ever tell him that. But as he walks away you find yourself watching the back of him, and as dead-ended as the conversation was, you feel like you’re wanting to make some more sometime. Just to work him out, you know? Just to see what Johnny sees. 

* 

“You could’a gone again, if you liked.”

“What? No, nah, one’s alright by me.”

“Got it out your system?”

“Yeah, yeah, couldn’t spend all day away from you, could I? Leave you standing up there all alone.”

Couldn’t, but would’ve, if you hadn’t caught his eye over the way there and given him a look like you were real thirsty for him. Took some fighting inside, you know, to take his helmet off and leave the racing to the rest of them, but he did, sweet as he is, and came and swept you up with all the other guys that are more keen on picnicking like you are. 

And he’s sitting beside you now—well, you sat down on one of them benches there, expecting him to come right up next to you, but he went and sat on the table part, still clearly with you but above you, you see, so that his thigh’s resting against your shoulder and your neck’s half breaking just to look at him. But you kind of like it. Having the head dog sitting over you like that, hand resting on the little bit of skin between your hair and the collar of your shirt. Sure, maybe it’s possessive, and maybe he really is worrying about you seeing something in one of these other guys that you’re never gonna see. 

But the more he does that, running a couple fingers over your neck like that, the more you’re thinking he’s worked out that it gets your stomach doing all sorts of summersaults, and that’s why he likes sitting up there like that. Hell, he can sure enough feel how hot your skin’s getting, so it wouldn’t take a scientist to figure out what it’s doing to you, and at the end of the day, a man’s a man, you know? 

“You not finishing your…what was it again?”

He’s pointing over your shoulder now, at the napkin-rolled parcel of good fucking food waiting there on your lap. You had only put it down for a second to get yourself situated. Would’ve eaten it in two bites if you didn’t have Johnny to think about. “Some kind of sandwich,” you answer. “Though it’s more like a burger in a home that don’t fit it—and yeah, I’m finishing it. It’s good. It’s alright.” 

You can hear him smiling, feel it without even looking back at him to check. “Just alright?” he asks. Then his head’s down by your head, ear by your ear, eyes across the way to where Kathy and Benny are snuggling on the opposite bench. “Now don’t let Kathy hear you saying that.”

Which he says altogether too loud, exactly as he planned to do. 

“Hey, no!” And you hate to admit it, but you’re talking louder like she might’ve heard, just to cover your back that don’t really need covering in the first place. “I mean it’s good. It’s real good! They ran out of regular buns is all.”

Kathy smiles, you think, and Johnny laughs at you relaxing at it—and you would’a liked a kiss or something as an apology for getting you to fret like that, but he just leans back again and runs a thumb down your cheek at the same time, like that’s near enough the same thing. Real charmer. So comfortable already, you know, so sick that he thinks that’s enough, and so perfect and fine and sweet, that it has you smiling while you un-peel the damn napkin. You seem to be taking turns these days, over who has who wrapped round their little pinky, and today it’s your go around that bent little finger of his. Broke it coming off his bike, he says, but you know a fighting injury when you see one, and he’s certainly no type of guy to be avoiding a bust up when it’s put in front of him.

“John, who’s that skinny, mousey looking dude over by Wahoo?” you ask, before taking a mean bite of your sandwich-burger. Then you chew and chew and and God, if Kathy weren’t married, you’d be asking her yourself, before licking your lips and clarifying who you mean, “The one with the camera and the tape recorder?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, fidgeting enough to make his leathers creak. “That’s Danny. He’s a… I dunno, a sort of journalist, I guess. Yeah. Scouting out stories and things. Been riding with us for a while.”

“Yeah?” Your brows go up, ‘cause that’s the last sort of answer you thought you’d be getting. “He’s out here interviewing you guys?”

“Putting together a book, he says.”

“Hmm.” S’all you can manage to say to that, Hmm. 

On that second or first date of yours, Johnny was real antsy about the idea of you going home and typing out his secrets, and you had to be seeing each other for weeks and weeks before he wanted you to really meet everybody here, but now you’re learning that this whole time they’ve had a walking talking wire tap rolling with them? Asking Q’s and getting A’s? Yeah, feels like something that makes no sense to you, coming from the big boss himself. 

“He’s from New York,” Johnny adds, like he don’t like your silence. Like he thinks you’re weighing this Danny guy up, or something. “S’a good kid.”

“You speak to him much?”

“Nah. Spends a lot of time over at Kathy’s place.” 

Figures. He probably wants to work Benny out the way you and everyone else does—and what better way to work him out, than to get talking with his lady like that?

“Maybe he’ll want to talk to me,” you say.

“Why’d he wanna do that?”

And you don’t like the joke in his voice, so you turn right round to face him, elbows sitting on his thighs. “Why wouldn’t he? I got stories to tell.”

He’s not looking at you, but looking over your head at Danny and Wahoo still. “You’re new to the Vandals,” he says, “you don’t know nothing about it. What’ve you got to say to him about all this?”

You agree as much as you don’t. And you’re itching at the principle of it anyway, so you were planning to keep on going, agreeing or not. 

“I know you, don’t I?” you tell him. “Plus new people got as much to bring to the picture as old people, you know, and when you’re writing something up you gotta have the whole entire picture from as many people as you can get, right—and I know, I like to write too, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“So why wouldn’t he wanna talk to me? I could tell him a whole load about all sorts of things—how someone like me got all wound up with someone like you, for starters—“

“Alright.”

“And how it feels to be fitting in with a bunch of people that are as much like you as they aren’t like you, you know?”

He’s looking at you now, and in the break you take to get some air and another point lined up, he asks, “You done?” Like you’d been talking forever or something.

And you’re surprised enough that you can’t say whether you are or not. 

“I don’t want you talking to him,” he says, “about us. Can I ask that? Am I allowed to ask that of you?”

“Sure you are, Johnny.” That was beside the point. You was just giving an example, you know, of why Danny might wanna point that microphone of his in your direction. 

Johnny’s looking down at you in one of those sorta ways that reminds you he’s a father still—and a father of two girls at that. The kind of look a guy might give a lion after kindly asking him to put his teeth away. “Feels like maybe you got a problem with it,” he says.

“You don’t want me talking to him about you? Fine.” You shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, come on, I just don’t like the implication that I got nothing interesting to say to someone like that.” Which is the truth, and you aren’t anyway shy of admitting it to him. 

He hums in response, and you don’t know if it’s a ‘you’re so funny’ kind of hum, or a ‘you’re getting on my nerves but we’re in public and I can’t say nothin’ kind of hum. And you don’t get to work it out neither, cause Cal shouts from the next table over like you’d been listening to his conversation, and not your own, this whole time.

“You coming, Lips?” he says.

“To what?”

“Car show, couple weeks from now.”

Right, cause that clears it up. “Why’d I do a thing like that?”

He looks down a little, like you caught him feeling nervous about the thing. Like it was prom and you were waiting for him to ask you, or something, lone earring swinging while he doubts himself. “Well, usually,” he says, “when a guy’s going steady with someone—not to assume or presume, Johnny, every journey is a beautiful one—but, well, usually they bring ‘em along to these things.”

You’re laughing. Well, trying real hard not to, cause he’s trying so hard to be… whatever that was, and you don’t mean to come off as rude so early on, y’know? “No, I mean, you bike guys go to car shows? Where’s the sense in that?” 

“S’more of a wheel show,” Cal says.

“S’more of a something to get drunk and start fightin’ each other for no reason,” Kathy adds from across the way, conversation travelling like a bunch of fish going upstream, “you don’t wanna be there, trust me. They just like lookin’ tough to all those nice boys in the 4-wheelers there.”

And you believe her, having said no more that a few words to her in your life, cause if anyone knows about these things, you kinda figure Kathy does. 

“You wanna go?” Johnny asks, before you can say anything about the drinking and fighting part. 

You look up, and he’s frowning like he might’ve asked you something real troubling, or like he’s trying to suss you out, even though he’s already done that and more, you reckon, sussed you out down to the parts even you don’t like thinking about. 

“D’you want me to go?” you ask.

“Well, yeah,” he says, easy but hesitant, “I do, yeah.”

“Then sure.” You turn back to Cal, who’s smoked up like a teenager in the brief moment you looked away from him. “S’pose I’ll be there, then.”

“S’pose we’ll be glad to have you,” he says back, and it’s probably only the weed, but he’s smiling like he means it. Like you’ve spent a whole lifetime with these guys, and not just one muddy afternoon in a fucking field in the middle of nowhere. 

Funny how it works sometimes, ain’t it? Johnny spent so long trying to balance things between you and the Vandals, when all he really had to do was stop worrying so much, and let everything fall together. One big pile of imperfection is a Hell of a lot easier to deal with, and you don’t mind being a part of that. Dirty boots and Benny included. 

>>>>>>next part

~~~~~~~~

taglist: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @garbinge @raven-black102 @lyralu91 @hoodeddreams13 @businesscalamity (pls let me know if i forgot you or you no longer want to be tagged!)

[saintobio]

Saint!!! omgomg

The latest SY sneak peak??? CHEF’S KISS ISTG.

I am so so sooo excited for whats to come. dhajsj. Toru calling mc “my wife” DKAKAKSK. Yn pussy so good boi forgot we divorced 😭😭

I wonder how everything will end tho (with momjo and gen and akemi still in the picture) my heart ached when you gave toji’s conclusion DJSJJAJA im sorry but im still team Satoru (love him too much, my pookiebear) my baby sachiii 🥲 I hope my baby is okay. I just hope mc would let him be a big brother bc i knew he would be very very protective of their younger like his dada. And pleasee, i need Gojo to redeem himself of being a father.

I feel like with SY ending, it’s like saying goodbye to your favorite friend who gave you comfort and everything that you needed in the moment. I enjoyed it so much and even reread it when you were on hiatus (and randomly thinking of possible endings). This was the very fic that gave me the gojo chokehold bc the plot? The dialogue? The characters? The world building? THEY WERE ALL SO GOOD. I am so so happy I came across your account during the pandemic while I was still in university (graduated and im already almost into 1 yr of working, ahhh it’s been so long) and even up to this day, I am still so so so in love with your writing. I just hope you will never stop writing for gojo. It’s like you mastered writing our pookiebear . Saint’s Gojo is the Godtier Gojo.

Getting emotional bc i really cant believe we are nearing the end. Whatever happens, I just know you will give us the BEST ending. I look forward to the conclusion of this arc *grabs tissue*. Can’t believe ill miss the Redflag-SY-Gojo.

Ahhh im so so proud of your hard work these past few weeks. You literally made me fell in love with Satoru and now Sylus SKSKAKAK. I hope your pillow is soft and giving you the best sleep bc I know writing masterpieces takes a LOT of work.

Sending you lots and lots of love ❤️

hiiii hi bb 🥹 tbh satoru has always seen yn as his wife. like even years after they separated. he sees her, then his mind registers ‘that’s my wife’. so when he sees yn with toji, he just goes off lmaoo i think it speaks volumes of how he hasn’t really accepted how they ended up (divorce, etc). even the way he sees himself—most of the time, he still thinks he’s yn’s hubby :’)

and noo don’t make me emotional now. i honestly can’t believe i’ve been writing this fic for years and reaching the finish line is just cathartic for me. it’s worth more than hundreds and thousands of words that i have never in my life written this much before, so it’s very close to my heart. although there are many parts of this series that i’m not proud of 🙂‍↕️ thank you though for sticking by me til the end, and for continuing to support my other fics (especially those with sylus!!) yayy <33 sending all my love back!

[mercyillustrator]

Happy belated Birthday to three of my mutuals ^w^

My apologies for short delay also for our belated birthday from few days ago. I thank God I survived to this day like any other day ^w^

Also before wrapping this year of 2024 up I wanna to giving out to everyone mutuals/followers/friends/ and the people who saw me Thank you all so much for being there for me by supporting me and interact with me it really so much to me and it’s crazy that I thought I was an only one who was born in December 27th then I found my birthdays troops who was born in the same month and same day as me.. I’m thankful that I get an opportunity to interact and chat with some of the people that I know on discord and other platforms, be on art fight and fun Kirby events like I ever dream of. Though life feels like a stormy weather sometimes like challenges that we face everyday but I’m happy that all made it. I almost give up as an artist, story writer and animator due to AI and stuff going on but I manage came back stronger then ever. It makes me feel that I do matter. I’m happy for this year comes to wonderful experience with all the joy, fun, and excitement also happy that I went from being shy to social butterfly. I hope we all celebrate this special moment together that we never forget. I’m trying not to get too emotional but you guys are like my family how much I love you guys til the end of times but let’s make the year 2025 to be our year. 🫰🏼💜💙

Belated birthday goes to @kirbybecomesastarwarrior

KBASW way back before I had tumblr I remember when I first saw your art on google from 7 years ago when I was around in my 9th grade year then years later I’m happy that it’s you ever since we became mutuals since 2023 and surprised when you interact with me as well ^^ your an amazing story writer with all AU characters, OCs, GSA knights and all incredible phenomenal work also I drew your AU GSA even Celestine as plushies :]



Belated birthday gift goes to @michiriii

Michi when I first saw your art on google to look up GSA knights it was back in late 2021 early 2022 I was happy to be back on the GSA phase that restored me my youth years ever since I was in the art hiatus from my anime drawings also I added Dragato and Falspar those birthday figures cuz I wanna to add smt cute :3

Bailey your really guy and it was nice to meet you and Kachi like for real your amazing and never give up for being amazing gamer @gundam-bailey

I wanna to say thank you all so much for the birthday wishes for past few days ago and I’m 22 crazy that everyone that I was 15-17 but really I feel yea I miss being in my teenage years also here’s my sona and my cat 💜💙 got the goods like Japanese candies, art supplies, had a lot of fun with families, and new meta knight plushie as well.

Happy New Year to everybody around the world - 💠🎨Mercy🎨💠

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

kinktober #28

Plagued 🐀 / Movie(/TV) Star 🎥

echo is back from hiatus @athl0chunk  is it just me or is does ben get bigger with every season of bake-off | trella 💃 @howlatthemoonpie i think its every episode at this point lol

til-u-wobble 🔁 shhhyoudidntseeme

[Two images of Bake-Off judges Ben Kenobi and Satine Kryze on set in the iconic tent. The first image is several years old; the tent’s pastel banners indicate that it’s from the first series. Here, Ben and Satine both smile as they pose in front of a baking station. Satine is a tall, slender white woman with a wavy blonde updo who is wearing a dark teal dress and jade jewellery. Ben, a white man whose dark blonde hair and beard verge on ginger, is slightly taller and wears fitted dark jeans and a charcoal-grey sweater with a blue chambray collar popping out at the neckline. He is slender but for a slight paunch around his middle. In the second image, they stand in a similar pose, though this time they’re smiling at each other, rather than the camera. Satine looks largely the same, while Ben is much, much heavier. His smile emphasises his round cheeks, and his double chin is just visible beneath his beard. He wears a dark green sweater and his jeans are of a similar wash to the first picture. His clothes fit him well and don’t attempt to hide his plump belly and thick hips. One chubby arm rests around Satine’s shoulders. He’s too round for his other arm to sit flat against his side. The purple of Satine’s dress is just visible behind Ben’s bulk, as if she has her hand in his back pocket.]

#omg he got enormous 😍 #you’re so fat (affectionate) but to ben kenobi specifically

3,240 notes 

cheezitenjoyer 🔁 plumpeachpear

plumpeachpear:

SWISS ROLLS …….. ben walks into the tent looking like THAT and they’re going to look these 12 innocent people in the eye and tell them to make SWISS ROLLS???

#oh amidala we’re really in it now

59 notes

unduly persecuted for my correct opinions @lumixnara well i WAS going to have a nice evening watching bakeoff with mum but NOW i guess i will have to walk into the sea ….!

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kallie 💖💛💙  @springform_pan  putting this out there now: the ship name for ben and satine should be #cremepatandchill | Rafa Martez @cheetochopsticks  omfg yes

h/c dumpster denizen 🌈 @bikewheels2thicc  i can’t believe Anakin hasn’t made a Big Ben joke yet?? low hanging fruit and he DUCKED

norra 👽 @ignorra_me  not me learning to bake so my man will look like that 😩

Roo Page @pageroo  omg they are sooooo married #cremepatandchill | Roo Page @pageroo  the bickering!!! the Looks!!! @bakeoff my little banter-loving heart is so happy #bakeoff🧁 | Roo Page @pageroo omg and it turns into a little cupcake when you use the hashtag 😭 ADORABLE

sinning📍super hell @my_assive_mass  ok i cannot be the only one thirsting over ben kenobi’s tight shirts tho … that popped button has me WET | sinning📍super hell @my_assive_mass  yes i logged into my horny alt to tweet this WHAT OF IT

✨ Sugi ✨ @SoSugiSays  i just want ben kenobi to raw me while i shove pastries into his mouth is that too much to ask | ✨ Sugi ✨ @SoSugiSays  cannot express how deeply i hope that they never make ben kenobi do one of those reading thirst tweets interviews bc the things i have twote about that man … i am not seeing heaven … | farrah @my_onaconda_dont  NO because i just know he would get so red and flustered :>

time-to-size-up ​​🔁 stretchmarks-r-us

[An image of Barriss Offee standing at her Bake-Off station. She is wearing a white T-shirt, a light brown apron, and a black hijab. She is squinting at the sheet of paper holding the technical challenge instructions, which she is holding less than a centimetre from her face.]

#me and the girls analyzing every gifset of ben kenobi for The Jiggle™ 

233 notes

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Dr. Pudge @bibfortuna normal people at 2am: sleeping me at 2am: so you can actually tell that he’s gaining weight during the season by looking at how in s5e1, his sweater is smooth/unrumpled, but by s5e6 there’s a lump over his belly where the button has come undone under his sweater. in this essay i w

borkus (derogatory) @jaspermcknives  ben kenobi looks like he eats all the bakes himself and honestly i love that for him. we stan a fat king

kiera 🦢 @dimple_simp  OH MY GOD DID HE BURST A BUTTON ASFJDLASFLKJFA;S | thot cross buns @karinathegreat  look at satine lOOK AT SATINE

peli @pelicantweet yeah i’m into GBBO G ben’s Gut B ursting B uttons O ff

vintage lesbian @kallmeklaya oh satine is not beating the little freak allegations this week

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Fat Bucky Truther @letta_turmond oh that chair is a choice he is STRUGGLING … 😳🥵 ben my man it is time to size up

poggle the lesser @pillsburythighrolls  SO THEY??? CHOSE??? NOT TO EDIT THIS OUT??!!? LIKE?!?! THIS IS NOT LIVE TV?!?!?! | jinx 🏳️‍⚧️ (xe/xir) @peach_gobbler  they did that for us 😭😔✊ | poggle the lesser @pillsburythighrolls THANK U POST TEAM WE ARE EATING TODAY | jinx 🏳️‍⚧️ (xe/xir) @peach_gobbler  yeah and SO IS HE

Jen June 🏳️‍🌈🌌 she/her @thefatkosmos  the bake-off chair thing isn’t funny, it’s fatphobic. if your show is backed by a massive international streaming giant, you have no business not providing your stars with furniture they can safely and comfortably use, never mind FIT IN. 🧵 1/?

eleni @vanillaxxxxtract  a short recap of tonight’s bake-off episode 🙈: 💁🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♂️🖋🍩👩🏾‍🍳📏🥐👨🏼‍🍳🎪🥮🧑🏽‍🍳👱🏻‍♀️👨🏻‍🦰🪑💥🙇🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♂️🌟👩🏾‍🍳😅😰😱😳🤯🥵😵 | eleni @vanillaxxxxtract  yes the end of that is me having a horny meltdown what about it you can’t stop me from living + livetweeting my extremely trashy truth

thelovehandlehandler 🔁 slurpin-and-glurpin

ratsummer:

satine. bestie. i love you and i need you to know from the bottom of my heart that everyone watching bbc2 rn knows exactly what your kinks are

#EVERYONE WATCHING BBC2!?! EVERYONE WITH NETFLIX GIRLIE #WE CAN ALL SEE YOU!!!

520 notes

korkie @korkryze guys can you please make it through ONE episode of bakeoff without getting weird about my aunt

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jedi mind trix [she/they] @beatrixbaking omg they literally got him like a giant reinforced chair holy shit  | siri @hey_siri AND HE’S STILL OVERFLOWING IT

projectguttenberg 🔁burpsmakemeblush

onlyalittlevanilla:

Ok but I actually do want to talk about Ben Kenobi from GBBO bc I think it’s cool that they don’t really treat/shoot/talk about him differently even though he’s gained weight. I can count on one hand the number of fat people I’ve seen on TV who tick all of the “actually fat not just Hollywood fat,” “well-dressed and respected and not treated as a slob,” and “considered to be at least generally handsome by the narrative” boxes at once. And it’s so refreshing to (a) see a celebrity chef who actually looks like they eat/enjoy food and (b) see a fat person get to talk about and eat and enjoy food on TV without it being stigmatized somehow! If I had to guess I’d put him around 350-ish lbs (~158 kg or 25 st for my non-USAmerican followers) and that just feels REVOLUTIONARY for mainstream TV! If he were in a sitcom he would get pigeonholed into some stupid weight loss storyline like that poor beautiful girl from that other show and here in the tent he just gets to be an expert in his craft and have insane chemistry with his costar who obviously thinks he’s the hottest thing since sliced bread and I LOVE IT. 

#YEAH LIKE #im gonna need whoevers running bakeoff right now to start doing every other genre of television #put fat people in everything and LET THEM BE HOT

5,391 notes

doublechinsforthewin 🔁projectguttenberg

onlyalittlevanilla:

Ok but I actually do want to talk about Ben Kenobi from GBBO bc I think it’s cool that they don’t really treat/shoot/talk about him differently even though he’s gained weight. I can count on one hand the number of fat people I’ve seen on TV who tick all of the “actually fat not just Hollywood fat,” “well-dressed and respected and not treated as a slob,” and “considered to be at least generally handsome by the narrative” boxes at once. If I had to guess I’d put him around 350-ish lbs (~158 kg or 25 st for my non-USAmerican followers) and that just feels REVOLUTIONARY for mainstream TV! If he were in a sitcom he would get pigeonholed into some stupid weight loss storyline like that poor beautiful girl from that other show and here in the tent he just gets to be an expert in his craft and have insane chemistry with his costar who obviously thinks he’s the hottest thing since sliced bread and I LOVE IT. 

doublechinsforthewin:

NOT TO MENTION that how refreshing it is to (a) see a celebrity chef who actually looks like they eat/enjoy food and (b) see a fat person get to talk about and eat and enjoy food on tv without it being stigmatized somehow?? And idk it just gets me that they have clearly made accommodations for him (ie chair, more fans during hot weather, fiddly stuff on edges got rearranged after he bumped into Jocasta’s jar of flour) rather than having him lose weight or something. His contract must be absolutely insane but clearly someone is fighting for him and I love when you can kind of see it bleed through from behind the scenes

#like it means so much to me #as a very fat person who also bakes for a living #my personal headcanon is that satine is his pit bull for stuff like this but obviously i have no proof lol

5,394 notes

Jen June 🏳️‍🌈🌌 she/her @thefatkosmos okay, you know what, they did ok with this. they listened, took accountability, and got the man a decent chair. good for them.  | Jen June 🏳️‍🌈🌌 she/her @thefatkosmos  the bake-off chair thing isn’t funny, it’s fatphobic. if your show is backed by a massive transatlantic company AND a streaming giant, you have no business not providing your stars with furniture they can safely and comfortably use, never mind FIT IN. 🧵 1/? | Jen June 🏳️‍🌈🌌 she/her @thefatkosmos should it have taken a whole ass twitter debacle instead of like. literally anyone on set clocking that his chair was too small? PROBABLY NOT, but. yanno. hollywood 🙃

d0ugh-duchess 🔁 dontjuststandthere-bustanut

[An image of Ben Kenobi and Satine Kryze on the set of Bake-Off, discussing who will win Star Baker and who will be eliminated this week. Satine, a thin, blonde, white woman, sits in a delicate white chair with curly armrests at a round table draped in a robin’s egg blue tablecloth. Ben, a fat white man with strawberry-blond hair and a beard, sits across the table from her in a much sturdier-looking white chair without armrests. Between them are the four remaining contestants’ bakes from today’s challenges. Satine’s chair is pulled in close to the table, and her elbows rest on the tabletop, but Ben sits back in his chair, his ample belly filling his lap.]

#ngl i kinda miss the eps where he was still trying to fit into that teeny little lawn chair 😅 #listen im a simple woman with simple needs and mainstream media fulfills NONE OF THEM #pls don’t drag me for this that’s why i put in the tags #god can’t see it if you put it in the tags!

4,677 notes

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484 by tummyrollsss

The Great British Bake-Off RPF

No Archive Warnings Apply, Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, Satine Kryze, Weight Gain, Light Angst, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Fluff, Established Relationship, Body Worship, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Stuffing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, (feedist version), Burping, Hiccups, fat Ben Kenobi, like he’s FAT fat, you have been warned, dom!Satine Kryze, making that a tag, i just think she’d like to be in charge!, the author’s barely disguised numbers kink, no beta we die like ben’s chair

After the chair fiasco, Satine wants to see how much bigger Ben can get before the season is over.

Language: English   Words: 19,302    Chapters: 10/10    Comments: 31    Kudos: 303 Bookmarks: 55    Hits: 7,721

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toastwithextrabutter 🔁 thebstandsforbbw

thequeerfeedress:

me seeing “gay representation” on tv: thats not me

me seeing sat!ne kr¥ze quietly lose her shit on gbbo every week: shes just like me fr

849 notes

obiroundkenobi 🔁 himboswithhiccups

[A photoset of six screencaps from series 5 of Bake-Off. The photoset is captioned “Satine Kryze gracefully white-knuckling her way through feedist hell 1/???” Top left: Satine and Ben Kenobi listen as Kit Fisto describes his signature bake. Ben’s big belly rests on the counter of Fisto’s baking station. Satine looks perfectly normal except that she is clutching a rolling pin for literally no reason. Top right: Ben cutting himself a sizable second slice of Barriss Offee’s pineapple upside-down cake with his free hand resting on the plump curve of his belly. Satine, just visible behind him, is smiling with her mouth while her eyes do a thousand-yard stare. Middle left: Ben smiles good-naturedly as he brushes powdered sugar from near the hemline of his sweater and accidentally reveals a sliver of the bottom curve of his belly, straining against the pale blue button-down he’s wearing underneath. Satine is all the way across the tent, but she’s looking at him nonetheless. Middle right: Satine and Ben sitting across from each other at the judges’ table after the showstopper, mid-conversation. Ben is very clearly too big for the little white garden chairs but is valiantly wedged in despite the fact that the armrests are basically lost in his side rolls and his hips are so wide that they’re overflowing the seat. Ben is carefully leaning forward to pull a plate toward him, while Satine holds a knife and fork and has cut the petit four on her plate into about eighteen pieces. Bottom left: Ben with his eyes closed in pleasure after taking a bite from one of Steela Gerrera’s signature hazelnut-cardamom creme brulees. Satine is looking on perfectly affably, but host Anakin Skywalker is looking at her with one eyebrow pointedly raised. Bottom right: Ben and Satine sit at the judges’ table, a split second before that really obvious cut. Ben is spilling out of his little garden chair and his face shows a look of slightly panicked surprise. Satine is just starting to jump up from her own chair, one hand thrown out toward Ben like a life raft. The fingers of both her hands are splayed wide, and although it’s not verified by the episode’s subtitles or closed captions, her mouth forms a word that looks a lot like “Fuck!”] 

#god is she dying up there i would be dying #shoutout to satine kryze for living out all of our kinkiest dreams #we love you queen #bakeoff #creme pat and chill

6,905 notes

chouxpersizeme 🔁 thickfrosting

thickfrosting: 

god i hope they just. let bakeoff keep (d)evolving into a feedist wonderland afjalskdfj. last week: wildly obvious camouflage bc ben popped a button on air. this week: unsubtle cut bc bens chair (?!?) broke (?!?!?!?!) when he sat down. next week: satine rubs bens belly and he burps onscreen. during the final they reenact The Cake Scene from matilda. lets keep this going for the love of god this is the most alive ive felt in months 

#RIGHT THOUGH I FEEL INSANE #feels like watching yuri on ice as it was airing #us every week: THEY DON’T MEAN- THEY CAN’T- THEY’RE NOT GONNA -??!??! #yoi creators every week: lmao fucking WATCH US #looks meaningfully at netflix #WELL??? ARE YOU GONNA?!?!

3,879 notes

[diavolosbaby]

Can I ask for something with Jumin Han? Taking Jumin to therapy after his good ending and just how it ends up lmao. I feel like it can be a mixture of both a crack headcanon as well as possibly serious, up to you how you wanna write it! Thanks!

Sure :)

(Sorry this took so long, and sorry if it sucks it's my first fic after my hiatus from writing)

Taking Jumin to Therapy After His Good Ending

Characters: Jumin

Genre: Crack, slight angst but mostly crack and sillyness

Format: headcanons

Pronouns if used: they/them

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

- will be hesitant and will even straight up say no, but of course you convince him

- "hmmm no therapy? Guess that means no " physical " therapy either..."

- he changed his tune rather quickly

- he requested you be there with him, even talking to the therapist

- was very slow opening up and would often look at you to answer for him with his cat like wide eyes, even when you didn't know what the hell the answer was

"So...your mother...did she ever comfort you when you were sad? Did you ever show you were sad?" *he turns to you, expectantly* ???

- very very awkward, reaches your your hand or is always touching you. Is awkward, feels awkward. Doesn't like it, feels out of place.

- Always felt like therapy was for people who had problems, he never thought he had problems til you pointed them out to him

"Jumin, dont you think this overprotective nature comes from somewhere? Maybe you're insecure hon?" *confused wide eyed cat stare and hear tilt*

- just be patient with him, he'll get there

- the more sessions he has the more he'll open up and get it

- will eventually even stop needing you in there with him. When he tells you he wants to go alone, he's very proud. Be proud with him.

"No MC, I think I'll go myself this time. *smug smirk as he looks at you waiting for some sign of pride from you* (please be proud of him its a big accomplishment for him)

- when he does something sort of topic he'll rail it back and start monologuing about how his therapist talked to him about this. Will explain to you where it comes from and that he's working on it, apologizes

-toxic behavior reduces a lot less, mommy and daddy issues reduce a lot less, insecurities reduce a lot less

- ultimately, you won!

- remember, his toxic teauts are reduces but they are most definitely still there! Its him, after all

Again sorry this is so late!!!

[flooded--skies]

tell me what friendship means to you

i think they are as fleeting as they are forever.

i remember being young, only four or five. the kid i played with the most moved away. i still think about him sometimes, i hope that he's doing well.

i remember being young, i remember going over to a friend's house so many times, til one day i decided i didn't like hanging out anymore. we were so young. i can't piece her face together anymore. i still have a keychain from her house. i stole it the day we never came back again. it's blue and pink and purple flowers. i stole it to remember her by.

i remember girl scouts, i remember being on the robotics team. i remember their faces, i remember long days spent trying to build something that would amaze. i remember that night where one of us broke down and mother took me and left, sending a message later to a parent on why. (we didn't hang out with them any more after that.)

i remember being young, i remember first being allowed online. it has been years since all but one of these people has come back. i still miss them, of course i'd remember the people i threw my future away for. it was for nothing. they are gone. i left one final post, hoping they'd come find me, hoping we could reconnect. it's been silence for years.

i remember feeling soaring hope one day thinking that i might be near one of them, that perhaps we could meet; but it was wishful thinking at best and foolishness at worst.

i'm happy i was able to hang onto one of them, but i don't know if we're still friends, not after what happened. it was my fault (i either care too much or care too little and here, i did both) and i haven't stopped replaying it all in my mind. i want to get out of the theater, i want to watch something else, please.

i lost them and found them and lost them again and found them again and it's a cycle that feels like i'm breaking apart every time.

i remember meeting so many people online, platonically adoring them, getting so swept up in the wonder of connection that i forgot it had to end.

i moved to another site, and it didn't help. i got lonelier, because at least i had been making connections previously. this place was ripe with life and yet it felt like i was in a deadzone. i had only got it for another friend, and i miss them so much now.

it's not like i didn't meet people there. but it didn't last. it wouldn't last and i think i knew that much better this time around.

and yet i got attached. it has been 1395 days, 20 hours, 32 minutes since a friend of mine went on hiatus, and i just hope they're doing alright wherever they are. i don't think i'll ever forget them.

to the friend i did keep from there:

i love you platonically, and i'm so happy we've stayed in touch. i miss what we had, but i'm glad we still have something at all.

i'm glad we met when we met. i think you needed it.

i care like a dagger, i love like a trap. i sink my teeth into you and you sink yours into me. everyone i have met, i remember. we make ourself permanent as if we are scars; we are like glass shards, adding to each other, changing each other irreversibly. how many make us real?

(trick question; we always have been.)

you have a scar on your palm and i one on my chin. trace it. it's the echoes of us. you won't forget me, and i won't forget you. we haven't talked in years. i still think of all we built. where are you now?

i trace my chin. right here.

i'm glad i have those who have known me for most of my life. we talked every day and then we didn't and then we did. we have stories we created that we'll only know, tears that only we shed. jokes we'll always tell.

i knew you when we weren't young enough to know better and now we're looking back and laughing.

i know the layout of your house like my own, i remember your laugh, your hair, how you hold yourself.

you're a wound and a scar and i couldn't ask for you to be anything but. red is a pretty color, i'll gladly let it flow.

[aihoshiino]

I did some mathing in my brain about when is AI’s and the Twins birthdays since I’m trying to figure out with what we got in the prologue since Aka never gave anyone birthdays and the time line of seasons is a fuck here. but I’m thinking Ai just turned 16 around the same time she was discovered to be 20 weeks along(5 months) and it starts snowing when her death/20th birthday but the twins birth it also starts snowing with the reincarnation happens.Japan usually starts having snow around mid December til early April so I’m shooting that AI’s birthday is around December while the twins might be late march if im doing a ball park guess I know this is weird thing to bring up in a ask but if Akasaka doesn’t give us birthdays then the fans gonna have to do it with the context clues we get especially since she’s still 16 when the twins are like … 6 months. Idek I’m rambling and want to know of your take cause I love your takes

please undrstand i am saying this with nothing but love but this ask briefly sent me down a rabbithole of forbidden knowledge and insanity and i feel like a lovecraft protag who has seen too much. I THINK i have made sense of all this but.................... listen akasaka clearly didn't think about it the same way i'm doing here so really, i guess i'm the clown in this scenario. heehoo.

The most direct clue we get about when Ai's birthday falls is in Viewpoint B, during her conversation with Kyun. The flashback portion of the story is implied to take place in December (the framing device is set in December and Kyun's recent breakup happened 'right before Christmas') and Ai's upcoming fifteenth birthday is mentioned indirectly; she talks about being about to age out of the children's home she'd been staying in which would put her birthday either in December or January.

This is also supported by the fact that the the snowfall that occurs after her death is noted to be unseasonably early. Given that the series is set mostly in Tokyo which mostly gets its snow in January, December makes the most sense for her birth month. In addition, during the little happy memories montage at the end of the episode, we see the family celebrating Christmas in a space that has exclusively Christmas decorations — so Ai's birthday is not close enough to the 24th or 25th for those sorts of celebrations to overlap. With all that in mind, my best guess for Ai's birthday is late November/early December. I personally like to headcanon it as November 28th, as it matches the timeframe and is when the real life Strawberry Productions Fan Thankgiving event was held.

As for the twins birthday, my instinct was to try and guesstimate this based on the details of Ai's pregnancy. We're directly told by the text that it lasted the full 40 weeks (which is actually not as common for twins — Ruby and Aqua were a bit late!) and that a few months have passed by the time she returns to working as an idol; Aqua and Ruby are using walkers the day she returns from her hiatus and babies are not typically physically capable of using them until around six months old. Obviously the twins are a bit more mobile than a regular baby would be much earlier, but they do seem to be reasonably constrained by the physical limits of their bodies so I feel pretty comfortable saying around six months have passed by the time Ai comes off hiatus. This also makes sense in terms of Ai's health, since it takes about six months to fully recovery from childbirth.

20 weeks post hiatus pregnancy + six months postpartum recovery = ten to eleven months passed between Ai arriving at the hospital and returning from her hiatus. It's also worth noting that she may not actually still be 16 around this time? When Saitou talks about her age, he mentions her becoming a mother at 16 which is obviously the age she had the kids, but it does leave room for her to have had a birthday between getting pregnant and actually having them.

With that 20 week starting point in mind, though, we can use the remaining 20 weeks of her pregnancy to try and narrow things down a bit more.

Using the anime as reference, it seems to be around early/mid autumn when Ai arrives at the hospital. If you look at the greenery behind Gorou when he's up on the roof, you can see there's patches where leaves are starting to show their autumn colours.

Since the hospital is all the way out in Takachiho, where autumn typically lasts between November and early December (if I'm remembering right?), my best guess would be that Ai arrived at the hospital probably late November or early December.

With that in mind, the remaining 20 weeks of her pregnancy playing out in full, that means the twins' birthday must be in mid to late April. This is actually implicitly confirmed to be the case in the series itself: while Ruby's age (and therefore Aqua's by extension) is given as 14 at the start of volume 2, they are already sixteen by the time LoveNow starts airing, which happens not long after they start high school - and the Japanese school year starts in April.

I'm choosing to headcanon them on the earlier side of April, just because that places them smack dab in the middle of cherry blossom season for Tokyo, which both makes them spring babies in contrast to Ai and ties nicely into how cherry blossoms represent rebirth and new beginnings.

anyway watch me post this ask and then next chapter confirms the twins were born or october 5th or some shit.............

[everythingkimpossible]

what happened and where I've been.

note: feel free to ignore if you don't care.

so it's been a really long time. I've been long debating on whether I should even make this post because I always wanted to avoid bringing anything personal to this blog. however I remember receiving messages from people who told me how much they loved this blog and how much it meant to them. as well as the people I used to talk to that I owe at least an explanation on why I disappeared.

firstly I got burned out, big time. when I started this blog I wanted to create a space where I can find, share, and reblog KP content. it was a huge passion project for me because I absolutely adored the show. my goal was to be the first blog that popped up when you typed in "Kim Possible" into search. The blog grew relatively quickly and I hit my goal within the first year. I met and talked to a lot of people who loved the show and would thank me for my reblogs of their fan art because of the amount traffic they would receive from it. i got inspired from the gifsets people posted and i got into making them myself and I loved it. however after how much time I put into running this blog it stopped being a passion project and became more of an obligation. I ran this blog for nearly six years ensuring that there would be posts every month. I ended up growing really tired of it and it wasn't enjoyable for me anymore.

secondly the Kim Possible live action movie. because this blog is called everythingkimpossible I felt that I needed to report about updates and developments about the then upcoming movie. to put it simply the movie brought out a lot of negativity and toxicity within the kim possible fan base and I would see so much of it under my posts and it was draining and demoralizing to be pretty much forced to read all of it.

now to clarify I have my own opinions on the movie as well let's just say i'm not a big fan of it myself (maybe i'll make a post about my thoughts on it if people are interested) but it still took a huge toll on me and it divided the fan base. I didn't know if I should make posts and reblogs about the movie after the fact or not.

so why am i back now? well i've recently started rewatching this show after many years and it got me really nostalgic about this blog. I truly did love running it for a long time. (it also recently turned 9 years old which is insane!) this site looks a lot different than the last time I was here! I'm also sad that a lot of the blogs that I follow are now deactivated but I can't really be shocked as I've been on hiatus for over 3 years.

I can't promise that I'll be back to regular posts but maybe I'll check in once in a while. Thank you to anyone who is still following me after all these years and to anyone who has even recently found this blog and followed.

Also thank you to everyone who has read til' the end I really appreciate it!

-EKP

[csvent-2]

PSA on the closed species called Scruggly. They are trying to milk their community AGAIN for an MYO sale soon, for their non-functional species. This is based on the owner's comment in their sales bulletin from Feb, that they are planning to hold another MYO sale this June (https: //toyhou . se/~bulletins/1697976 . scrugglyworlds-first-myo-sale-feb-closed)

Scrugglys is a species that only existed because popular artists thought it's a good cash grab. After their first MYO sale last Feb, where they earned around $800 - $900 in sales, the owners went MIA til late May (no announcements about it), with a non-functional masterlist, and approvals on halt, questions on their discord unanswered. There were also little to no events, if there is, it will run for less than a month and then no one will roll winners until months later when the community keeps asking about it.

The owners do not care about their members or staff. There's a reason why they get new staff every time, and why the new ones don't usually last for a month or so. If they do stick around, those staff hired are on hiatus or does not really help in the species itself. They hire people who are around their friend group/popularity level and dismiss sound community suggestions in favor of what's best for their wallets. There's more drama around one mod who tried to take over the CS because of the absence of the owners, but that's a whole other vent.

Just know, it's a species doomed from the get-go with poor management, rude help desk answers from the owner, even the owner do not follow traits on their adopts, but will call out members to redo their MYO for things they fail to indicate in the trait sheets.

It's also important to note that this is their third masterlist that they fucked over: 1st is Discord, then Wix (formerly scrugglyworld . com), 3rd is lorekeeper (scrugglys . com).

So please, PLEASE PLEASE do not give them any more of your money or your time.

🌸