#how much of this actually comes up in the books? WHO KNOWS! but it’s there

[bombshellsandbluebells]

(didn't even get to the part where Ford comes in, but I loved the idea of a sentient Mystery Shack that grows to love Stan - mostly because Stan ends up treating the place more like a home than Ford ever did and goes through all those years alone with him and wrote a drabble)

At some point, Stan realizes he should clean the house. The epiphany comes around the same time he realizes he should also take care of himself—eat, probably, since he can't recall when he last did that. Shower now that he has access to one—even though the thought of using Ford's shower because the man himself can't makes his skin crawl so much he wants to peel it off.

He'll start with the house, then. It feels less like stealing a space that shouldn't be his if he convinces himself it's for Ford's sake—tidying the books and washing out the mugs growing their own ecosystems as some kind of apology. 

As soon as he starts cleaning, though, the mess seems endless. He wonders again at the state his brother had been in—at the barbed wire and panic, at the blood stains in the bathroom—and he wonders if the fear had come from Ford knowing what was beyond the portal, if he'd known the nightmare Stan was dooming him to, if he was even still—

He loses a few hours cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing everything from the floors to the inside of the fridge, but that's a few hours not spent tearing his hair out over the portal, and it feels nice to succeed at something for once. Even the house seems to breathe a little easier in the space he clears—though he can't really explain what he means by that. 

It's just a building, obviously, but it seems…happier. Like it's proud of the changes he made. Whatever, grief is weird, he knows that—their Ma had hit denial so badly after their Bubbe passed it took a full two months for her to even admit she'd died. If he feels better because he tells himself Ford's house is happy he cleaned it up, who cares.

 At least it will help him get out of bed tomorrow. 

-------

About two months in, Stan realizes there are probably bills of some sort he's ignoring. He's never owned a place of his own, but he remembers the whole song and dance with his parents, pouring over electricity and water bills at the kitchen table and debating which ones would be easier to argue—arguing with each other about who had dropped the ball on making enough sales that month.

Considering his new business is based out of the house, he can't risk losing power, which leaves him hunting around Ford's stuff for old utility bills—with no luck. His brother is probably the least organized person he knows, and it looks like that hasn't changed much. Somehow the man can keep up a meticulous system for his bookcase that doesn't make sense to anyone else but can't keep important documents in a folder somewhere. Hell, Stan would take a messy drawer.

He practically tears the house apart but can't find anything, getting increasingly pissed with every upturned cabinet—pissed at Ford for not taking better care of his house, pissed that he's not even here to deal with this, pissed that Stan's now actively seeking out bills to pay like some kind of lunatic. By the time he finally finds a number for Gravity Falls' one electricity company in the yellow pages, he's mad enough to curse out the employee on the other end when he informs him they have no record of an account for Stanford Pines.

"Then how the hell do I have power?!" he yells before realizing it's probably in his best interest to not reveal the fact that Ford has somehow slipped through the cracks and ended up with free power this whole time.

When the guy tries to talk Stan into setting up a new account, he quickly hangs up. 

So it's a mistake, probably—one actually working out in Stan's favor. Or Ford set up a generator somewhere he's yet to find. Either way, he just has to hope whatever's keeping the lights on doesn't decide to crap out on him soon; he could use the extra money he'd waste on bills right now. The Hut isn't that successful.

"Please," he says weakly, not quite sure who or what he's talking to. The concept of electricity itself, maybe. "Just—don't go out."

Maybe it's just his imagination, but the light above him seems to burn a little brighter in response.

Whatever. Grief works in weird ways.

–

It becomes harder to shake it off as just grief. 

Sometimes when the endless slog of the portal is getting to him, the lights burn brighter. Despite never paying a gas bill of any kind, the house stays warm around him. He never seems to lose anything, either—no matter how many times he misplaces something, it turns up right when he needs it. Sometimes it's not even something he's looking for: painkillers on the kitchen table after he smashes his fingers, Around the World in Eighty Days sitting innocently on his bed just when he starts thinking he needs to take his mind off of things for a bit. Once, he mentions missing the ocean out loud and turns the corner to see a painting of just that where he knows it wasn't before.

Terrifyingly, the first thing he thinks of are ghosts. Maybe Ford hadn't even made it to whatever lay on the other side of that portal. Maybe he'd just stuck around where Stan couldn't see him anymore.

He dares to ask one night, sitting in the kitchen where he'd first felt the feeling of not being alone, almost too scared to get an answer. The room ripples around him in reply. The light above him flickers. Stan watches it, trying to swallow down the sudden dryness in his mouth.

"Blink once for yes, twice for no," he says.

No, the house flickers.

He drops his head into his arms and just breathes. Squeezes his eyes shut so they stop feeling so wet. "Okay," he says. "Not the weirdest thing I've seen, I guess."

The way the light flares feels almost like a laugh.

Sentient Mystery Shack, who is really biased towards Stan, so when Ford tells Stan he has to give it back after the summer it’s on sight.

Ford keeps tripping over nothing, nothing is where it's supposed to be and somehow he keeps running into closets when he tries to go outside.

But the worst part, the WORST part is that Ford's lightbulb just won't. Work. No matter what he does it keeps flickering and exploding.

Ford is spiraling. 

There is no reason why it shoudln’t work. All his trial runs work perfectly. He’s already checked the Shacks wiring three times and relearned this dimensions science from the ground up. 

Nothing works.

The Rift? Bill? The impending apocalypse? Eating? Sleep? Who cares about that. 

WHY. WONT. THE. LIGHTBULB. WORK???

It doesn’t help that Stan keeps laughing at him.

“Then you do it!” Ford eventually snaps at Stan.

Stan shrugs and with a little song under his breath screws his own lightbulb in. It works perfectly.

Stanford screams.

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie is aware that Steve is watching him.

It’s 2008, and Eddie is holding a baby, and Steve is watching him.

The baby, for the record, isn’t theirs.

No, Dustin and Erica finally decided to have one of their own after years, and so the whole rest of the Party had journeyed back to Indiana to meet the baby.

Eddie does like babies, to be clear. He’s discovered recently that it sometimes comes as a surprise that he likes babies, loves fatherhood.

He got some shit for it a while back at his high school reunion – “You just had to be the one to knock up Steve Harrington, huh?” Jeff had jokingly said – all well-intentioned, obviously, and sure, Eddie counts his lucky stars for a number of reasons, one of them definitely being that he gets to watch Steve in his final Dad form, but all-in-all people generally seem to be under the impression that Eddie had been dragged by Steve into the world of parenting. They never seem to consider that he might have wanted it just as much as Steve did.

Eddie gets it though. For people who don’t know him – people who only know him from his books, people who only know him from high school, people who don’t know the totality of who he is – it’s probably hard to imagine him being, like, all-in with the baby thing: cleaning spit-up, lugging a diaper-bag around everywhere, coordinating his life around interweaving nap schedules, the works. Again, he gets it. Even Eddie himself can acknowledge that his eighteen, nineteen, twenty-year-old self would be completely fucking baffled to see how comfortable he is holding a brand new baby (and he’d better be, considering he’s had three).

Steve and Eddie’s babies aren’t babies anymore. Their youngest, Hazel, is nearly three, and the older two are both in elementary school, and Eddie is pretty sure that their baby days are a thing of the past, hence why he’s trying to get his fix while there’s one available.

Steve is doing the same, or so it seems by the way he’s ogling Eddie from across Claudia Henderson’s kitchen. Eddie gives Steve a small smile even as he rolls his eyes because he knows that baby fever type of look, and he adjusts the way he’s holding the baby so he can free a hand to flip Steve the bird.

(Steve’s eyes flick to the arm still holding the baby, and Eddie gets the sense that he didn’t actually help his case at all).

A bit later, when Lucas came to reclaim his nephew, Eddie found Steve and sidled up behind him to wrap an arm around his waist.

“Hey,” he said, kissing the side of Steve’s neck, “Stop trying to impregnate me with your eyes, Harrington. You’ll offend the delicate sensitivities of Claudia’s dinnerware.”

“Shut up,” Steve shook his head, and then he said, “We should have another.”

“Another?” Eddie repeated, “Remind me again which one of us had a freakout when Hazel was born?”

“Uh, it was a minor freakout and purely situational,” Steve argued, “I said thirty years ago I’d be down for six and I stand by that.”

“Alright, we’ll see, big guy.”

[sorchathered]

My Forever Valentine- Bradley Bradshaw x reader

A/N- happy belated valentines my angels! This is just a little something I’ve been working on for @roosterforme, hope you all love it!

Pairing- Bradley Bradshaw x female reader

Warnings- a little angst, a little smut, language.

“Honestly I never thought we’d get here. No really, anyone who knows Bradley knows he isn’t the Casanova he likes to think he is. How you roped her into marrying your dumb ass is a miracle in my book. I love you both and I’m so glad you are taking over my job of keeping him alive; good luck girl it’s a tough gig!”

Everyone is nearly in tears from laughter as Bradley rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a chuckle. Choosing Natasha Trace to be his best (wo)man was a no-brainer until he realized she was going to get to give a speech, or as she called it “her roasting of the chicken boy”. Honestly he thought she’d be more ruthless but blessedly she had been kind because it was after all his wedding day. She wasn’t wrong though; it really was a miracle he’d managed to not only find you but also convince you he was the man you should spend the rest of your life with. He’d been full of anger for years over Mav pulling his papers, despite the fact that he’d made it in the navy and been incredibly successful in his career. You’d seen right through his carefree aloha persona, broke down his walls and finally got him to self reflect and realize that the past wasn’t who he was; he’d made it through hell despite the roadblocks and that was what he should focus on instead. He had been stubborn, trying his damndest to push you away when you pushed him to make amends and heal, but you’d stayed. You’d made him better, made his life have meaning, and now he would spend the rest of his life showing you how much you meant to him and making a beautiful life for you.

He remembered the day he met you vividly. You’d been out at the hard deck with a group of friends, it shouldn’t have been any different than any other night out but when he heard your laugh and saw your face he knew. It was like everything in his life had come into focus and he couldn’t stop himself from getting up mid conversation to cross the bar and talk to you. You’d been watching him too, the easy carefree way he seemed to move through the crowd was mesmerizing and the two of you had hit it off like a house on fire. You both fell in love hard and fast, but it hadn’t been without its struggles. Bradley’s line of work was extremely taxing, gone for weeks- sometimes months a time with little to no contact. You’d been lonely but he’d been worth every minute apart, and when he made it back to you after a particularly difficult mission a misunderstanding had nearly torn you both apart.

-6 months ago-

It had been a non-stop carousel of tag chasers from the minute he’d entered his beloved bar, the squad had demanded they throw him a welcome home party for the ages but you’d never thought it would be a wall to wall frat party. Women staring for a little too long, buying him drinks, at one point some girl actually tried to kiss him! Bradley had been polite as always, sending all of them packing and letting them know he was taken, but by the time he’d sat himself at the piano to sing he had gathered himself quite a fan club of single girls, and you didn’t have the patience to look at it anymore. Especially when one of those girls was his ex, she just never quite seemed to understand the word no, and forget about the notion that he had moved on; she didn’t believe for one second that anyone would turn his head from her and despite being the one that left him she just wouldn’t let an opportunity pass to get him back out of her grasp. You knew his heart, and that he had professed that you were his future, but it wasn’t enough. Not when these girls didn’t seem to get his polite hints and kept coming back for more. You knew he liked the attention and that was the worst part; he could tell you all day long that he wanted a family with you but when you took a backseat to his fan club you couldn’t help but convince yourself that he was all talk and nothing more.

“Baby, come on you know it’s not like that! I don’t want anyone but you! Just come back inside, we’ll play some pool with Phoenix and Coyote and then we can head home, just us. I don’t want you going home by yourself.” He pouted and tried to pull you close and damn it you almost let him, but the gnawing feeling of inadequacy wouldn’t let you give in.

You nearly walked away that night, but he wouldn’t have it. If he was going to lose you it wouldn’t be over some stupid girl in a bar, the two of you were meant to be and he was ready to put his heart on the line. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms, you wiggled in his hold but he didn’t budge; tilting your chin up to look at him as he leaned in close to place a searing kiss to your lips. He felt your body go lax in his arms, sighing into his mouth as he ran his tongue along the seam of your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a while, locked in an embrace as he kissed you breathless, you were sure this was the kind of kiss that caused women to swoon in old movies, drunk on the feeling of his body pressed to yours making you weak in the knees. When he finally pulled away from you a whine breached your throat and he chuckled as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I want you to hear me when I say this sweetheart, and really take it to heart ok? There’s nothing I want more in this world than you. Not flying, not another woman, not a single thing could matter more to me than you. You’re my first thought when I open my eyes and every night I’m honored to be the one to hold you when you finally find rest. I will always choose you, and if I’ve ever made you question that I will do anything to make it right. I want you forever. I want to have a house full of feral children that look like you that I coach softball for on the weekends, I want to take care of you when you’re sick and think you’re gross, I want to sit on our porch 50 years from now and watch the sun go down on a perfect life we’ve made, hell baby I want to pass first because I don’t know that I could go on another day if you weren’t here. That’s how much you mean to me, and if you’ll say yes I’ll love you until the day I die.”

You were fully ugly crying in his arms as he pulled a beautiful ring and slid it on your finger, nodding furiously before you pulled his face to yours.

Now in the fading sunset he watched you dancing along to the band, the quiet beach wedding had been everything you both dreamed it would be, surrounded by loved ones and Bradley can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. You were everything he’d ever dreamed up but somehow better, the figment in his mind could never come close to the real thing. His hands itched to hold you, need flooding his senses as he crossed the makeshift dance floor to sweep you into his embrace. You grinned up at him and he melted a little more inside, he peppered your face with kisses as your laughter rang out against the crashing of the waves. “I need to monopolize the bride for a little while, think you could find a way for us to escape for a bit?” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh until you felt him pressing against the satiny fabric of your gown. He swallowed the moan that escapes your lips, it was entirely indecent the way you two were pressed together in this public of a setting but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You were his wife, his wife. Surely he could be excused for his behavior just this once right? He turned you in his arms and began guiding you towards the beloved bar where the two of you first met. Penny was bringing out more champagne as you burst in the door, a chuckle and shake of her head as the two of you nearly collided with her. “No breaking anything in my bar, I’ll keep everyone out of your hair for a few minutes.” Bradley nodded with wide eyes as you erupted in laughter, ushering you towards the stock room with a playful slap to your ass as you tried to catch your breath between giggle fits.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He said as he placed you on top of the massive deep freeze in the corner of the stock room, mascara was smudging the corners of your eyes from the tears brought on by your glee at getting caught, eyes shining with anticipation at what was to come. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep it in his pants until we made it to the honeymoon suite Mr. Bradshaw” he didn’t deny it, he just couldn’t help himself with how beautiful you looked, it would be a crime to wait 2 more hours before he could fuck his wife.

“You know, you’re my wife now. Mrs. Bradshaw.” He was running his lips and mustache along your cleavage, the sensation sent a shiver up your spine, along with his declaration. “Oh god- we really are married now aren’t we?” You panted as he hiked your dress up above your thighs, running a long finger up the seam of your barely there underwear, reveling in the look on your face as you sucked in a sharp gasp. He couldn’t help but kiss you, licking into your mouth as he continued to rub circles against your covered clit. You were trembling in his hold, whining and bucking into his hand and he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Tease. Two could play that game. Sliding your palms down his shirt jacket you made quick work of unbuttoning his dress pants, slipping your hand down into his briefs to grasp his cock. He hissed into the open air, knowing you had the upper hand now.

“Thought you said you needed to fuck me Bradley? We don’t have all night, give it to me baby boy.” He couldn’t push his clothes off fast enough, sliding your underwear to the side as he slammed into you mercilessly. Sweet saccharine moans fell from your lips and he brought you to your high, your nails clawing at his back as he sucked a dark mark behind your ear. It didn’t take much more for you both to topple over the edge, a mess of sweaty limbs tangled together as you reached euphoria. Giggles and soft kisses followed as you tried to piece each others outfits back together, startling at a loud knock rapping the old wooden door.

“Ok sluts, you can make a baby another time! Everyone is looking for the happy couple and we know what y’all are getting up to! Wrap it up and come join the party!” Natasha cackles as she hears you two shuffling behind the door, hastily stepping out with tousled hair and kiss swollen lips. “Can you blame me Phoenix? She’s perfection.” Bradley says with a laugh as you all step back out into the party, a roar of cheers and whoops echoing out as you do. This was just the beginning of a lifetime of memories, and Bradley couldn’t wait to spend them all with you.

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @sunsetsimpsblog @seitmai @ryebecca @mynameismckenziemae @heavenssins @tenderclio @sio-ina-bottle @shanimallina87 @jessicab1991 @trickphotography2 @sometimesanalice @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @saltsicklover @kissmecaitie @callsigns-haze

[theliteraryarchitect]

I don’t know if u still answer questions but I need some advice. My passion has always been writing simply because I have so many ideas and so many thoughts and I love creating stories (theoretically). Lately though I’ve hit this roadblock. I’ll never be able to write like the people I admire, because at the end of it all I feel like I’m not learning. I’ll reread my old stuff, point out and rework my mistakes, and still feel like I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t written anything for years because of this block and I feel like I’ll never improve and find the motivation to keep writing. I’ll never be like the greats with seemingly endless inspiration and talent. Ig my question is just… how do I improve? How do I finally feel satisfied with what I do? How do I love my writing again??

First off, I hear you. So many writers—especially the ones who care deeply—go through exactly this. You love storytelling in theory, but when it comes to writing, it feels like you’re stuck in a cycle of self-doubt and disappointment. That’s not a personal failing. That’s just what happens when your standards grow faster than your skills.

The mistake most writers make (and one I see repeated constantly) is thinking that learning = immediate improvement—as if you study the craft, tweak some mistakes, and suddenly level up. But writing doesn’t work like a skill tree in a video game. It’s messy, non-linear, and full of invisible growth. The work you put in today might not show results for months, or even years. And that’s frustrating as hell, but it’s also normal.

And the writers you admire? The ones who seem endlessly inspired and effortlessly talented? They aren’t immune to this feeling. The difference is, they write through it. They let themselves write badly. They embrace inefficiency. They trust that even their worst drafts are part of the process. AND (top secret info here)... frankly a lot of the big names have editors at their publishing houses that are practically doing ghostwriting work: fixing their mistakes, rewriting their stuff, or even composing sections for them so they can pump out the next bestseller in record time.

But here’s my advice: stop waiting to feel satisfied before you start writing again. You’re not going to think your way out of this. Improvement comes from doing. Let yourself write terribly, inconsistently, joyfully. Take the pressure off. And when your brain tells you it’s pointless, remind yourself: the only way to get better is to keep going.

You don’t need to be “one of the greats.” You just need to write.

Hope this helps, friend.

P.S. I get Asks like this so much that I'm actually working on a whole long book about it, since it's really more than I can handle in a short post. Stay tuned for details. xo

[teddypoi-qd]

{ID - Series of tweets from @/grumpwitch about working in a public library:

"Things I have learned about the general public whilst working at the library: 1. A huge number of people under 20 can't face clocks, having grrown up with only digital ones.

2. Many people don't know how to spell "library." It's in our email address. This causes problems.

3. A disturbing number of young people don't actually know how book-lending at the library works. They assume it costs money! Teach your children about libraries!

4. Crime and thriller are basically the same thing in many cases. In fact, we have doubles of books because of that.

5. People use hidden codes like asterisks to mark which books they've read! The system will let you know if you've already borrowed something! Just ask.

6. If an automatic door breaks, people will walk into it instead of reading the sign at face height.

7. Libraries are a godsend for blind and deaf people and not just for audioboks. They can come for help with filling out forms and getting directions.

8. Some elderly people go through books at a TERRIFYING rate. They are to be feared and respected. 9. Some people are so afraid of computers that they will come to you with a query and then become upset if you offer to look it up on the compute instead of in a book.

10. Some poeple have never, ever used a telephone. Especially older women. Their husband did it for them.

11. The DWP fuck over everyone but especially the most vulnerable and I haven't met a single library worker who hasn't helped struggling library users with food or phone calls or even a cup of tea when it's cold and they can't afford heating.

12. The Job Centre regularly lie to people and like to tell them that they can get services at libraries that simply do not exist. We will try our very best to help you get what you should have been given at the Job Centre.

13. Most banks assume that everyone has an email now. In fact, some people have trouble proving they exist at all without one.

14. Library folk are good folk. We do this because we are passionate about it. We have to be.

15. Libraries aren't quiet anymore. They're community hubs now. They may have quiet study areas but most libraries are bustling with activity. Between kids' classes, singing and memory groups for those with Dementia, crafts sessions and noisy office equipment, don't expect silence.

16. Libraries remain the only place where you can spend hours in a publically-accessible building without being expected to spend money. Parents come to entertain their children for free on wet days. People in poverty come for a warm place to sit. Libraries are a haven.

17. Some people will go their entire lives only reading 2-3 authors but still have enough material to read a book every month. (See also: Danielle Steel, James Patterson, Clive Cussler, etc.)

18. A library lives and dies by the staff on the counter. You can have the best funding, all of the books and tech in the world but you'll only get footfall if your staff go above and beyond. Sometimes even that doesnt work, though and it's frustrating.

19. We're funded based on footfall. I've seen staff cry because we lost a youth group to a private hall that has fancier facilities like a cafe. We need all the footfall we can get.

20. Staff are hitting their head against walls volunteering to create events, classes and groups only to have them shot down because local councils don't understand social media or want to charge for it. I can't overemphasise just how much unpaid work staff do.

21. Most of the facilities are only working because staff pay out of pocket to get things working. My manager bought a new laminator when we couldn't afford one. She buys in colouring materials for kids. We sometimes bring in our own stationary. We even buy lightbulbs in.

22. Authors don't like to visit little libraries because they don't get paid. Bookstores often pay.

23. The "sexy librarian" trop has actually done a LOT of harm and has caused countless incidences of sexual assalt by men who can't tell the difference between porn and reality.

24. Old ladies keep libraries in business. Old ladies who read are the best. Old ladies who can tell you exactly which page features the most gruesome murder scene are the very best.

25. Library staff ALWAYS want to know what you thought of the book. We want to know what to recommend to others!

26. I'm not supposed to have favourite library users but I do: I love library couples, who bicker over each others' reading tastes or share books and then argue about the themes. I also love the autistic kids with special interests. I will crawl over hot coals to get you a book about the specific type of train you are interested in, tiny child. I will listen to you tell me about it in great detail. I will try to remember for the next time you come in.

27. The single best moment, for me, is when a library user graduates from Young Adult to Adult and suddenly the entire library is open tothem! They can read anything! No more tiny teen section! All of the classics! Sci fi! Horror! They often get overwhelmed.

28. And finally, because I've spammed you long enough and because my typos are mounting up, remember this: Library staff can overcome many challenges but Book Gods help you if you deprive us of caffeine. You don't want to see what happens then.

END ID}

[nameless-jamie]

Hiii, saw your pole and I'm obsessed with mutual pining!!! Can you write about AFC Richmond playing in a different city and after the match they have no curfew, but Roy takes Jamie for an all night training session and it just Jamie and PA missing each other throughout the night? Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺

Match Away

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post, I had a rough few days…

TW: cursing, suggestive language/scenes

Jamie was sulking.

Not in an obvious, pouting like a child way—at least, not in public—but Y/N knew him too well to miss the little signs. The way his responses had been shorter than usual when she told him she wasn’t coming on the away game. The dramatic sighs. The way he had muttered, ‘S’not even worth goin’ then,’ under his breath, like he wasn’t literally contractually obligated to be there.

“Babe, you know I’d come if I could,” she had said, smoothing her hands over his chest, knowing exactly how to coax a real response from him.

“Don’t see why you can’t,” Jamie grumbled, dropping his forehead against hers.

“Because somebody has a schedule so packed it needs a miracle worker,” she teased. “And somebody also has sponsorship paperwork that needs finalizing before the deadline.”

Jamie exhaled heavily. “Sounds like a lot.”

“It is,” she said pointedly.

“So,” he murmured, nudging her nose with his, “couldn’t you just... not do it?”

Y/N huffed a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Oh, yeah, great plan. Let’s just see what happens when you don’t show up for your next big Nike campaign because I didn’t confirm your shoot.”

Jamie groaned, leaning back on the couch dramatically. “Babe. I need you there.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Will I?” He gave her the biggest, most tragic eyes she’d ever seen.

“You will,” she laughed.

“I won’t,” he said immediately.

But he had, of course. Barely.

The match had been a success—AFC Richmond clinching a narrow but well-earned victory in an away game that had everyone riding high on adrenaline. The team was in a different city, the air electric with post-match energy, and for the first time in ages, there was no curfew. No early morning drills. No scheduled meetings. Just freedom to celebrate.

Jamie had been looking forward to it—spending time with the team, sneaking away for a quiet moment alone to call Y/N. After everything—the missed voicemails, the confession, the stolen touches and whispered I love yous—he wanted to just be with her. He missed her.

But, of course, Roy fucking Kent had other plans.

Just as the team was heading out to celebrate, Roy had grabbed Jamie by the back of his training jacket and grunted, “You. Extra training. Now.”

Jamie had groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, Coach. We won. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No,” Roy had answered, completely unmoved.

So Jamie had sighed heavily, and trudged off behind Roy, muttering about “cruel and unusual punishment” as he disappeared into the night.

Y/N hadn’t intended to surprise him.

At first, she had genuinely needed to stay behind, sorting out his brand deals and upcoming events, because as much as Jamie complained about the responsibilities that came with being him, Y/N was the one who made sure it all actually happened.

But by the time she had checked off the last task, hours earlier than expected, she had started to regret not going.

Because Jamie had been relentless.

Jamie: I miss you. Jamie: I miss you more. Jamie: Why aren’t you texting me back? Have you replaced me? Jamie: Who is he?? Y/N: Jesus Christ, Jamie. It’s been 15 minutes. Jamie: That’s 15 minutes too long.

And then later—

Jamie: Team’s going out. Can’t even be arsed. Y/N: Go. Have fun. Jamie: Not fun without you.

By then, she had already made her decision.

She had booked the next available flight, packed a small bag, and by the time the team was getting ready for their match, she was already on her way.

He had no idea.

Which was why it was so fucking annoying that, after a full day of traveling just to surprise him, she was the one left waiting for him.

Because Jamie Tartt wasn’t in his hotel room.

No, Jamie Tartt was off suffering under Roy Kent’s iron fist, training in the middle of the fucking night while Y/N sat on the edge of his bed.

It wasn’t like she had planned it—she hadn’t flown across the country just to seduce him—but after all their pining, all their stolen kisses, all their missed moments, she wanted him to walk into his hotel room and see her looking like something out of one of his dreams.

And she knew Jamie.

He would lose his fucking mind.

If he ever actually got here...

Now, hours later, Y/N decided to go to the hotel bar with the rest of the team, nursing a drink she barely cared about, distracted and restless as she scrolled through her phone. She and Jamie had been texting the whole time. She was tired of sitting in the room all night.

Jamie: Roy is a demon. Jamie: Been runnin’ for hours. Might die. Jamie: If I do, tell everyone I loved you the most.

She had smiled at that, typing back:

Y/N: Dramatic. You literally do this for a living. Y/N: I miss you.

His reply had been immediate.

Jamie: I miss you more. Like, physically hurts how much I miss you. Jamie: Think I’m love sick. Jamie: Probably the worst case in history.

She had rolled her eyes, but her stomach had fluttered all the same.

It continued like that for hours—little messages, him sneaking a text when Roy wasn’t looking, her checking her phone between conversations with Sam and Isaac, neither of them quite able to focus on anything else.

But the celebration started winding down. The team, exhausted from the match (and the drinking), started retreating to their hotel rooms. She had lingered in the lobby for a while, hoping Jamie would be done soon, but after a final text—

Jamie: Roy says one more hour. Kill me.

—she had given up, heading to Jamie's room alone. Trying to make the best out of the situation and surprise him.

She had barely gotten comfortable in bed, wearing the most ridiculous excuse for sleepwear, when her phone buzzed.

Jamie: Done. Finally. Jamie: My legs are fucked. Jamie: Callin' you soon. Got to get to my room.

Y/N had barely processed the text when she heard the key card being inserted into the door.

By the time Jamie dragged himself through the door, he was exhausted, half-delirious, and so sore he was considering never forgiving Roy Kent. His shirt was damp with sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead, and his usual cocky smirk was slightly loopy with exhaustion.

But when he lifted his head and saw her—actually her—sitting on his bed, legs tucked underneath her, looking like the prettiest thing he’d ever seen—every single complaint disappeared from his mind.

He froze in the doorway.

“Babe?”

Y/N grinned, leaning back against the pillows. “Hey, Jamie.”

His eyes raked over her—lingering on the thin straps of her nightdress, the soft fabric clinging to her skin. He blinked slowly. “Am I hallucinating?”

She tilted her head. “I don’t know. Did Roy run you into the ground?”

“Yes. But—” He shook his head like he was clearing it. “No, this is real. You’re real.”

Y/N bit her lip, nodding. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Jamie inhaled sharply, taking a slow step forward, then another. “Babe. You can’t just—fuck—you can’t just show up lookin’ like that.”

She smirked. “Like what?”

“Like—” His hands gestured wildly. “Like that.”

“I mean, it is my sleepwear.”

Jamie let out a strangled noise. “Babe, be fucking serious. That’s straight up lingerie.”

She laughed, and God, he had missed that sound.

He was in front of her in seconds, dropping onto the bed, immediately pulling her into his arms, his face buried against her shoulder.

“Pretty girl,” he sighed dramatically, immediately cuddling into her space, arms winding around her waist. “Missed you so much.”

Her fingers tangled in his hair. “I know.” Y/N laughed softly, letting him press his face against her shoulder. “You smell terrible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “Been sufferin’. Roy had me doin’ sprints while he sat there and ate a protein bar. It was psychological warfare.”

She ran a hand over his damp hair, trying to fight a smile. “Poor baby.”

Jamie lifted his head, his eyes dark and hazy, still dazed from exhaustion. “You know how many times I texted you?”

She smiled. “Yeah.”

“Roy kept yellin’ at me for checkin’ my phone. Didn’t even care. Kept checkin’ anyway.”

Y/N smoothed her hand over his jaw. “I missed you too, Jamie.”

His lips brushed against her shoulder, trailing upward. “You should’ve been there, takin’ care of me and yelling at Roy.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Taking care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, fingers trailing along her waist lazily. “Like, y’know, run me a bath. Massage my legs. Kiss me better.” His grin turned cheeky

“I am here now.” She snorted.

Jamie sighed happily. “Yeah, but I wasted hours when I could’ve been doin’ this.”

She raised an eyebrow. “This?”

Jamie hummed, dragging her closer. “This,” he confirmed, kissing her softly, slowly, like he was making up for lost time.

She melted against him, letting herself sink into his warmth, the feeling of his lips, the way his hands mapped out her back.

Jamie pulled away just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his fingers tracing the thin straps of her dress.

“You know,” he murmured, “I’d be sayin’ all sorts of things right now—if I wasn’t so fuckin’ tired.”

Y/N smirked. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sighed dramatically. “Worst fuckin’ timing. Honestly, Roy should be arrested.”

She laughed, her fingers smoothing over his tired muscles. “It's a pity, really.”

Jamie groaned. “Need you to take care of me. Ok how about I lay down and you do whatever you want to me.”

“You’re literally about to pass out.” Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “How about we start with sleep?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but pulled him onto his pillow and under the blanket. He collapsed onto it with a satisfied groan, dragging her down the blanket with him and nuzzling against her immediately.

Jamie hummed. “If I go to sleep, will you stay with me?”

She kissed his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. Didn't even book another room. I have to bunk with you, pretty boy.”

“Best night ever,” he mumbled, pressing a lazy kiss to her shoulder.

She smiled, running her fingers through his hair as he melted against her.

“Go to sleep, Jamie.”

His breath was already slowing, his body heavy and warm against hers.

Jamie sighed, utterly content, already half-asleep as he mumbled, “Love you, babe.”

Y/N smiled against him.

“Love you too, Jamie.”

[kathaelipwse]

GOT7 | Headcanons

Theme: Members As Friends And Lovers

Requested by: @canigotosleep--plz

Warnings: Fluff and just fluff, Neutral gender!reader, my personal opinions!!!

Word Count: 1.0k

Mark Tuan

❀ As a Friend:

The type to listen quietly and then drop the most insightful advice.

Will send you a simple "You good?" text instead of asking too many questions.

Always down for a spontaneous road trip or late-night drive in silence.

The one who remembers your favorite food and orders it for you before you ask.

Rarely starts conversations but always responds when you need him.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Acts of Service & Quality Time.

Prefers subtle physical affection—hand-holding, thigh touches while driving, and soft back hugs.

He’s not the type for over-the-top gestures, but he makes sure you know he loves you through actions.

Might not say "I love you" often, but his eyes show it every time he looks at you.

Loves watching you when you’re not paying attention—he thinks you're the most beautiful when you're just being yourself.

The kind of boyfriend who lets you nap on his chest and absentmindedly plays with your hair.

Lim Jae-beom

❀ As a Friend:

Looks out for you like a protective older brother.

Roasts you all the time but will fight anyone who actually upsets you.

Is the first one to notice if you’re stressed and forces you to take a break.

Would drive you home at 3 AM just to make sure you’re safe.

If he says he’ll be there for you, he means it—he’s as loyal as they come.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Words of Affirmation.

Super touchy but in a non-obvious way—lingering hand touches, resting his hand on your thigh, or pulling you close when walking.

Lowkey enjoys cuddling but won’t admit it—he just “accidentally” falls asleep with you in his arms.

He might act cool, but he’s obsessed with kissing you, especially slow, deep kisses.

If he’s jealous, he won’t say anything—he’ll just pull you closer and make sure everyone knows you’re his.

Finds excuses to touch you, like fixing your hair or tracing small circles on your back when sitting together.

Jackson Wang

❀ As a Friend:

The ultimate hype man—your biggest cheerleader in life.

Insists on FaceTiming you instead of texting.

If you're sad, he’ll take you out for a fun adventure to cheer you up.

Will introduce you to every single person he knows and brag about how amazing you are.

Gets over-the-top dramatic about everything just to make you laugh.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Quality Time.

Super affectionate—hugs, kisses, and hand-holding all the time.

He has zero shame about PDA—if he loves you, the world should know.

Loves lifting you off the ground when he hugs you.

Needs constant physical closeness—he’ll drape himself over you from behind like a human koala.

If you’re apart for too long, expect a dramatic “I missed you so much!!” the moment he sees you again.

Park Jin-young

❀ As a Friend:

The mom friend—he always makes sure you're making smart decisions.

Likes intellectual conversations and debating random topics for fun.

Pretends to be serious but actually has the best sense of humor.

He'll send you book recommendations and expect you to discuss them with him.

If you have a problem, he’ll help you solve it logically but with a side of sarcasm.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Words of Affirmation & Quality Time.

Prefers small, meaningful touches—a hand squeeze, brushing your hair away, or a soft kiss before leaving.

He’s not the type for over-the-top PDA, but in private, he’s incredibly soft and loving.

Loves slow, deep kisses that last longer than expected.

Would rather whisper sweet things in your ear than say them out loud in front of others.

Writes you letters when he’s feeling sentimental but acts like it’s “not a big deal.”

Choi Young-jae

❀ As a Friend:

A literal ray of sunshine—his energy is contagious.

Always sending you memes and dog photos to brighten your day.

Will drop whatever he's doing if you need help.

If you're sad, he’ll hug you until you feel better (and maybe write a song about it).

The most genuinely happy for your successes.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Words of Affirmation.

Loves cuddling—he could stay in bed all day just snuggled up with you.

Will randomly grab your hand and swing it back and forth while walking.

Likes to playfully boop your nose or poke your cheeks just to make you laugh.

Gets shy when expressing feelings but his touch says it all—soft, lingering, and full of love.

The type to hug you from behind while you’re doing something and just stay there for a while.

BamBam

❀ As a Friend:

Your fashion guru—always wants to go shopping with you.

Loves taking aesthetic photos of you for Instagram.

Teases you all the time, but if someone else does, he gets defensive real quick.

Randomly calls you just to gossip and catch up.

Will buy you a ridiculous gift “just because it reminded me of you.”

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Gift Giving & Physical Touch.

Always flirting—he loves seeing you blush.

Loves PDA but in a playful way—wants to make others jealous of how cute you two are.

Randomly grabs your face and kisses you just because he can.

Buys you expensive gifts but acts like it’s “no big deal.”

If you’re feeling down, expect a shopping trip and a fancy dinner date to lift your mood.

Kim Yugyeom

❀ As a Friend:

The gentle giant—sweet but surprisingly mischievous.

Always down for a random dance battle.

Loves sending you weird, funny TikToks at 2 AM.

The friend who carries your bags without you asking.

If you need a hug, he's got you covered—big, warm, comforting bear hugs.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Quality Time.

Loves touching you absentmindedly—playing with your fingers, resting his head on your shoulder, or leaning against you.

Slow kisses are his thing—deep, meaningful, and just enough to make your heart race.

Likes to wrap his arms around you from behind and sway gently.

If he’s lying down, expect him to pull you into his chest for cuddles without asking.

Prefers spending time together over texting—even if you’re just sitting in comfortable silence.

[smilocity]

Family Reunion

I’m back! Sorry for not posting! School is starting again and I haven’t had the time to write some stories.

Anyway, I had this amazing idea! It’s about seeing your family members who are soldiers back from deployment!

Note: I saw this one video about a child running to his father after he appeared at the airport gate and it was so cute!

Pairings: Fem!Reader x 141 (individually, alongside with your children.)

Synopsis: Task Force 141 has just finished a long deployment of 3 whole months. Eager to see their families or loved ones, they decided to head home early in the morning. What they didn’t know was that their families were too eager to wait at home!

Warning: There is none! Just watch out for the cutest moments ever!!

Genre: Fluff, SFW.

John Price

John was tired. Exhausted even. Actually, exhausted was an understatement. He was on the brink of passing out.

3 months before wasn’t that much or a deal, but now that he has a son and a wife waiting at home. All he thinks about is his family and it pisses him off that he had his flight delayed over the wind picking up.

So when he could finally make it to his flight and ensure that the rest of his Task Force members were accounted for properly, he could finally sit down and take a breather.

It was a grueling 6-hour and 45-minute flight. Price did not know if he was going crazy but could swear that he took at least a 3-4 hour nap but saw that there were STILL 4 hours left to the flight. "Bloody hell..." To say the least, he was relieved to be back in London and on land. Getting through security and going to the luggage area to pick up his belongings felt like a blur.

He remembered walking through the gate to welcome the arrivals before hearing a familiar giggle. "I'm coming, papa!"

John's eyes widened when seeing his son running towards him, he didn't expect this but he sure damn is happy it happened.

Without thinking, he knelt down to welcome his son into his arms, picked him up, and continued walking while reuniting with his son.

"Hey, kiddo. Missed you lots," John smiled kissing the boy's head who squealed in delight.

You smiled when seeing the moment happen, having it on film to go back on this memory in the future, "Surprise! We wanted to see you first thing in the morning." "I would've told you to wait fo' me back at home. But I'm glad you came 'ere instead," John for once showed a genuine smile when speaking and hugging his wife.

Oh. How he missed his family.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz was eager to get back home as his wife had told him about being in labour during his deployment.

He was saddened he couldn't be there physically but sent letters and messages to show his support for his ever-so-strong wife for pulling through with a healthy baby and birth.

"Hells fuckin' bells, Gaz. You've been pacing 'round for 20 minutes straight," Soap commented, looking at his teammate moving around in the airport gate waiting area they're in.

The said sergeant sighed, groaning as he sat next to Price, "Sorry. Just a bit restless." "A bit?" The captain huffed out a small laugh, "Looks more than that to me, eh?" "He's just eager to meet his new addition to his family," Ghost spoke, scrolling through his burner phone.

And they were right, Gaz was eager to meet his baby girl as he couldn't be there for her birth. It made him nervous when thinking about his family.

Once they were called to board their flight, Gaz booked it towards the counter and was first to sit down.

Price blinked in amusement but didn't pry as he understood the emotions the young male was going through.

The flight lasted 5 hours, but it was like a whole day according to the tan-skinned male. (He was getting tired of aircraft after his series of falling out of them twice with Price during a mission.)

Once landing in London and saying goodbye to Soap as he was heading to Scotland, Glasgow to reunite with his family.

Gaz immediately went to talk things out with his in-laws about how to get to his wife and daughter.

But to his surprise, he didn’t know you gave birth a little in advance while he was in early deployment.

"Yeah. So sorry to bother you. Is it possible that one of my brothers could pick me up from the airport? It’s 7 in the morning, and I know it’s not ideal, but if you could at least ask one of them, that would be much appreciated."

While speaking on the phone with his mother-in-law. You were seen trying to wrangle your first born son while your newborn daughter was in a baby stroller as the rest of both you and Kyle’s family were all gathered to the greeting area of new arrivals.

"Hurry up, everyone!" Kyle’s mother whisper-yelled, seeing a glimpse of her son made her signal to everyone to get into their positions.

Price notified the sergeant on his phone earlier, "You okay, Gaz?"

"Yeah, Cap." He replied calmly, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Everything’s fine. Just trying to find my brother-in-law. Apparently Roy he was supposed to pick me up."

Price and Ghost have offered to drop him off but Kyle insisted on not disturbing them when they just returned from their deployment.

While walking to exit, a group of people suddenly yelled, "Welcome back!!" It was Kyle’s family and yours, greeting him back.

This made the sergeant stop in his tracks before a large grin appeared over his face as he walked over to his family and greeted them all.

"There’s someone else who wants to meet you!" His mother added after being able to hug her son.

"Papa!"

A young boy, no older than 3 years old ran towards his father making his heart flutter out of joy to see him.

"Oh, hey, bud," Kyle smiled, picking him up.

You walked over to your husband, "They were eager to see you."

Kyle was surprised to see their newborn daughter in your arms. He almost cried when seeing the fragile baby girl, "Oh, love, she’s beautiful."

The family hugged it out, "I’m home," he mumbled in his wife’s hair.

This was one of the best surprises he’s ever had in his lifetime.

John "Soap" MacTavish

(We all knew that Johnny would probably win when it comes to the biggest family reward. I mean, he’s a Scot, of course he’d have at least two or three older sisters waiting for him back home.)

The moment where he was allowed to head back to Glasgow was the time where he really was able to be just John MacTavish instead of Soap.

He’s just happy to be home and see his family. Especially his adorable triplets that his missus gave him in a healthy birth.

While getting his luggage, he felt someone wrap their around his shoulders, he instinctively tried to push the person off, military instincts kicking in.

But he knew that laugh…He knew who just tackled him.

"You troublemaker! I thought someone tried to tackle me," he laughed, hugging his older sister.

"Ha! You wish! Still haven’t beaten me yet, Johnny!" The ginger grinned, hugging her younger sibling tightly.

The two other sisters ran and lunged at John practically almost making everyone tumble to the ground.

But he couldn’t care less, he missed his family, his siblings. The people who supported him throughout his childhood and adulthood.

"Johnny!/JJ!” His other sisters, who are twins, also with ginger hair greeted him happily.

He laughed heartedly, for the first time in months he was able to laugh like he meant it. It felt nice to see his family again.

"Our golden baby brother is finally back," ever since his childhood, John could remember about his elder siblings shower him in gifts and love.

"Come on, you three. I’m not a baby anymore. I’m married and have kids," John dismissed their awes.

"Adult or not, you’re still our baby brother," his elder sister smiled before calling out to a group of people to join them.

"Papa!/Daddy!"

Huh…? He could have sworn he heard his children but couldn’t find them. He swerved his head to try and find the source of the sound.

And there they were, his adorable children running to greet him after being separated for so long.

John didn’t waste them to embrace them in a tight hug, “Aw! I missed you guys so much!"

Simon "Ghost" Riley

3 months…

3 months…!

3 months!

"Bloody hell…"

It wasn’t unusual for Ghost to be gone for long periods of time. But for some reason, he felt extremely tired and unable to think straight since his deployment ended.

All he could think about is you.

His wife.

His family.

His children.

The long flight towards Manchester was gruelling for him.

The checking in, signing the papers and getting his passport back while getting his luggage felt like an eternity for him.

He was about to call you that he’s heading out of the airport before seeing a banner at the exit.

It said: "Welcome home, Dad!"

To anyone, they would’ve thought it could any person, but Simon knew that that banner was meant for him.

"Daddy!" His eldest son smiled, running up to him, too eager to wait for him to walk towards them.

Without missing a beat, the tall man picked up his son, "I missed you!" The 8 year old grinned.

"Same ‘ere, kiddo."

You were seen holding your 4 year old daughter, "Welcome home, Si!"

The young girl squealed when seeing her father, "Papa!"

Ghost was no longer when he was with his family.

In their eyes, he was Simon Riley, your husband, the kids’ father and role model.

Simon picked up his daughter from your arms, happy to see his children after so long.

Both kids were seen in the big man’s arms, excited to have their father back after his long deployment.

"Did you wait long?" Simon asked, turning towards you.

You just waved him off, "Not at all. In fact, we got here half an hour before you got here."

"That’s good," He murmured before giving you a side hug, not wanting to squish the children still in his arms.

"Welcome home, Si," you said making him smile under the balaclava.

"I’m finally home."

Thanks for reading! :)

[linka-r9-vysocina]

at this point I think you are misunderstanding me on purpose, but I will reply anyway because it might help me to gather my thoughts and maybe other people might find it insightful.

Your whole view, as I understand,boils down to: if you country allied with Nazis, they deserve whatever includig annihilation and occupation, and if your country was occupied by Nazis, how dare they complain about any of those things the Soviets did. (This is a very similar rhetoric that is now evoked in Palestine, btw: "Palestinians chose Hamas! They deserve anything that happens to them!" - and we all see how much of a bullshit it is. You have Free Palestine in you bio, I believe?)

First, I am not here to apologize fucking nazis. I hoped it was clear from what I wrote, but maybe not. I very much agree with the quote you posted. However there is a difference between an individual who joins the Nazi party, an individual who joins the Wehrmacht, and a country that is for one reason or another allied with Nazi Germany. If we throw all the nuance out of the window and refuse to engage with the different motives and circumstances, we will never ever understand fully what and why really happened.

My wording with Finland was maybe unfortunate, and it is indeed a stain on their history to have been allied with Nazi Germany. However it should be noted that THEIR OTHER OPTION WAS TO TURN INTO A SOVIET COLONY.

Second, I am not saying that Czechoslovakia, Baltics etc. have hands all clean. Not at all, and we should be examining what happened, what our nations had hands in when it comes to murders and ethnic cleansings and such.

Third, and probably most important, it is really weird how you are trying to frame me as a sort of Nazi Germany apologist when I merely stated that there were many different ways to end up in SSSR as a POW other than being a nazi. And I am sorry, that is just a fact. You happily ignore it, but it WAS SSSR that allied with Nazi Germany and attacked the Baltics and Poland in the beginning of WWII, only changing sides in 1941 after Germany attacked it.

I later said that my country is still remembering the Soviet invasion, and I DID NOT STATE WHICH INVASION IT WAS, from which you automatically deducted that we must have been Nazis, because otherwise SSSR wouldn't have invaded us for sure? Then you turned around and accused me of being unthankful to the Soviets for liberating us. The soviets DID actually liberate huge chunks of Czechoslovakia. But that was not an "invasion" I talked about, I talked about more than 20 years after the WWII, 1968.

Anyway, to finish this off: I am not gonna use the Jews, Romanis and queers murdered during the Holocaust as figures of speech. I don't know what they would or would have not appreciated. What I know is, your way of thinking is very similar to the rhetoric that led to their extermination: "The whole nation is at fault. They deserve whatever happens to them." - "This country allied with Nazi Germany. It deserves whatever the Soviets did to it."

I hope I helped you see the similarity. We are all grappling with the rise of fascism and we all are trying to figure out how to be good people. You seem like you would be loudly antifascist on paper, but the rhetoric you are using is extremely close to the fascist one - including willing to throw whole nations under the bus (collective punishment much?). Fascism hates nuance. And nuance is not apollogia.

(I am having a lot of thoughts right now, but I would probably just ramble on if I continued. If you are interested in the bloody history of eastern Europe during the wars, I recommend the works of Timothy Snyder, and for understanding Europe after the war there is a great book by the historian Tony Judt called Postwar. Unfortunately I can't recommend other sources right now as they would be in Czech.)

I've literally said for years but the idea of mind control being real is more valuable as propaganda than actual mind control

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 14)

A/N: for the first time in foreverrrr there’s a new chapter

WORD COUNT: 1,096

“I had heard this was your favourite spot in the castle.” You tilt your head up, hearing your husband’s voice from your hidden alcove in the corner of the library.

“It is. Though, your library is small… and rather unused.”

“Reading is not a very common pastime here. Ladies usually prefer to sew and chatter in their groups while the men train.” He runs his thumb over one of the book spines on the shelf, chuckling lightly at the dust that coats it. “Though it pleases me to know someone is enjoying the space.”

“I usually enjoy its privacy.” The intent of your words is clear.

“Is that your way of telling me to leave?” He asks, only ever amused by your harshness.

“Would you even go if I had asked?” You brush your fingertips over the leatherbound cover of your book, closing it.

“Of course. I respect your space, princess.” He always seems so hurt by your possible judgments of him.

“Why are you here?”

He sighs. “It is my cousin’s birthday in three weeks time. Usually it is the lady of the castle throwing the celebration.”

“So you have a chore for me?”

Cregan’s brows furrow. “Not a chore, simply a task, should you like to perform it. I thought most ladies of high society enjoyed hosting.” He takes in the look on your face. “But perhaps I thought wrong.”

“I’ll have a few things brought in. Who usually sets up these events?” You ask.

“Uh, my aunt.”

“I’m sure she resents her loss of duties. I would leave the rest of the planning to her. I don’t care much for the planning of frivolities.”

“I’ll inform her then. Though, i’m sure she doesn’t resent it or you.” The comment has you making a face, not understanding why anyone wouldn’t resent a demotion in station. “She was actually quite excited when I informed her of the engagement. She always wished to see me wed as she had a great part in raising me… especially since the passing of my mother.”

You suck on the inside of your cheek, seeing how he attempts to mask his sorrow. “Well she did a fine job with you. I’m sure that your mother would be pleased.” You look at your hands, feeling flushed at your own comment.

“That is very kind of you to say. I believe your father would be proud of you as well.”

You snort, finding it unlikely that he truly thinks that. You think your husband must dislike you, though he tries to portray otherwise.

“I meant that in earnest.” He mumbles.

“I hardly believe that.”

“You are strong willed and ride one of the grandest dragons i’ve ever seen. I would think these are very true Velaryon traits, knowing how your father had a thrill for battle.”

In all honesty, you didn’t see much of Laenor. He wasn’t very present and you know you can’t speak the name of the man who was.

“His loss does not sit very heavy on my heart.” Is your only reply.

Cregan sits at the chair in front of you. You don’t protest.

“Is your book enjoyable?” He asks. You raise an eyebrow, wondering why he is still speaking to you.

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me what it is about?”

You think for a moment, trying to decide whether the conversation is worth having. “It's a book of northern folktales.” You toss it to him. “Have you not read it?”

“I have likely heard the stories. Though, I am keen to hear it from your perspective.”

“I’m reading about the white walkers and how they came to be. Do you believe in them?” You look to him, interest in your eyes.

“It is a child’s tale.”

“I am sure in faraway lands men riding dragons would be children’s tales.”

He fiddles with the book, looking down at it before back up at you again. “I have heard things from men who have ventured to the far north and from wildlings who fled south.” The wildling remark interests you as you've heard little of the free people. “There was a girl once, when I was younger, who had been captured by the guards. She was crazed, speaking of men who had come back from the dead with eyes bluer than sapphires. The guards said she would wake up screaming from nightmares. Apparently her father and brothers were all turned into the wicked things. She was mad though. I don’t think the guards believed her much.”

“I believe her.” You say.

“You do?”

“When princess Aerea went missing and came back spouting impossible things. People thought she was mad. I think she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see. Something no mortal should be exposed to. Magic is dangerous to tamper with.”

“I heard the Targaryens lost all their magic. That you can only ride dragons through your blood.” Cregan says.

“Who told you that?” It’s a dangerous thought. It makes your family look weak.

“My father, but it is only rumour, not something I would speak about. Especially not about my wife’s family.” He replies and you know he means it in earnest.

“The loss of blood magic is not something to be mourned. It is a filthy thing, the treatment of the serfs in Valyria. There is no glory in suffering.”

“You have a more forward perspective than most.” He says, appreciating the idea that you are hardly as cold as you seem.

“There is no progress if you do not think forward.” You muse.

“That is true.” He seems to think for a moment before placing the book back down on the table in front of you. “You’re quite clever.”

“I was raised by clever people.”

“You were.” He says, pausing to think. “I should quite like to have you sit in on council meetings. I can’t promise you a position but I think your input would be beneficial to me.”

Breaking out a modest smile, you speak, “I would like that, very much my lord.” You try not to look too excited. You always appreciated how your mother accepted and listened to your thoughts. You didn’t think you’d be granted the same respect in Winterfell.

“Oh and the celebration. I have informed the Queen of it. I believe your step sisters will be coming to visit. I know it isn’t your whole family but i hoped you would be pleased.”

“I am very pleased… Cregan.” You give him a gentle smile and for the first time, you realize you might be growing fond of him.

Comment to be added to taglist

[vershautece]

There’s actually a long retweet that he deleted but it essentially said that women are the Achilles heel of the species and they’ll never understand male spaces. He was also interested in an Indian writer’s (Jash Dholani) unreleased book and flew out to meet him & gave him feedback. Someone recently read the book and said it was a lot of misogynistic views (ie. how women shouldn’t be in the workplace etc). At least up until recently Luigi’s opinions were definitely red-pilled leaning 😬

yeah, i know all about that! i saw it on reddit about a month ago, i’ll paste my own reddit response here because it’s the best way to explain what i think. i should have posted this weeks ago actually:

“This is just how I interpret his character, based on everything I’ve seen, but it seems that his struggle to develop relationships with women (or anyone, he said he struggles to connect w/ people in general) was made worse by his adopting the typical masculine stoicism and the pressure that comes with that, wondering why you aren’t connecting well with women when the men online are telling you you’re perfect. This would have seriously affected his mental health, especially regarding view of self. It happens to SO many men who align with stoicism, and Luigi ended up getting manipulated by the extremely misogynistic evolutionary theory that women and men are biologically different, so much so that men need their own ‘spaces’. I don’t hate him for this, I feel sorry for him - these red-pilled accounts definitely helped him come to the false conclusion that the only reason women don’t understand him is because of a biological difference where any woman can never truly understand any man. Also, his interest in science would have further made that ideology appealing.”

& “He had close platonic friendships with girls, so I don’t believe at all that he hates women, but the people he agrees with are on that path.”

so essentially i’m saying that when you look at the reason why he succumbed to that thinking (stemming from his stoicism and issues with relationships), and you pair that with the sort of person he is (loving, caring, has friends that are women, no one has a bad word to say about him) he is clearly not a misogynist, rather he’s being manipulated by misogynist writers and philosophies. things aren’t always as black and white as they seem; i know we don’t actually know luigi personally, but i understand precisely why he took up these views and i feel sorry for him - he won’t have these views in the aggressive way a lot of men do.

thank you for sending me this actually, because i should’ve mentioned it when i first saw it!

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Reversed cat AU where Ford is the one who gets cursed into a cat. Maybe for the premise of it, in this one Stan is hiding from various mobs and cartels that want him dead. Going hardcore into the hiding because he’s realized no matter where he drives to or how fast he runs, they keep finding him. So instead he goes off grid entirely and fucks off into the woods of some backwater unknown town. Decides to rough it for a while (literally since he has nothing) until hopefully the people after him give up or think he’s dead.

So Stan just happens to be living in gravity fall’s woods. He doesn’t really know where he is, and has no idea he’s near where Ford is. But one day while he’s trying to scrounge up something to eat, he comes across a cat.

Ford, having been cursed into a cat, is wandering around the woods searching for a potential way to uncurse himself, and happens to bump into his brother. Something both crazy and concerning because what the fuck is Stanley doing out here?? And also why does he look so starved, unwashed, and homeless? Also is he trying to eat that mushroom? Doesn’t he know that one is poisonous??!!

Ford the cat angrily stops Stan from eating a potentially deadly mushroom, and then tries to get Stan to help him with the curse problem. Something that takes more effort than Ford hopes for. Ford ends up following Stan to the spot in the woods he’s been living in, and spends the next while trying to get Stan to come with him.

Eventually he gets Stan to realize that Ford wants him to follow him, and Stan, curious, trails along behind his new cat friend. Cat friend leads him to a cabin that’s decently far from the rest of the town, and while Stan is unsure at first, he perks up when he realizes no one is there.

Ford is relieved that he finally got Stan to come with him, and now all he has to do is get his brother to go to his study and read out the anti curse spell and all will be fine.

Except Ford turns around to find Stan is no longer following him, and is in fact going through his house and taking his stuff.

Stan: Sweet! No one’s home! Time to loot this sucker!

Cat Ford: 😑

God. The beautiful relationship between a cursed man and his brother who is looting his house.

Ford spends the first few days alternating between trying to get Stan to follow him and making sure Stan doesn't accidentally kill himself out here. Stan is convinced this cat is the universe sending him a sign that he's finally doing something right in his life, since this cat is making sure he doesn't die and also brought him to a looters paradise.

He names the cat Chompers, on account of how many times it's bitten him.

Even cooler when he realizes the guy who owns this house hasn't come back once! And all the books are full of stuff about the creatures in the woods that terrify him!

He could make so much money off it!

Now Fords battling to make sure Stan doesn't sell his collection and actually read the very obviously written spell that's sitting on the desk. It's right here Stan! Read it Stan! Stop trying to steal my things Stan! You're right it's expensive but stop!

[paradoxcase]

Ok, but we actually do know for a fact that Aiglamene did not teach her to read, because she says so in like Chapter 3. I don't have access to my book right now, but it was something along the lines of a comment about sticking something up her butt and Gideon was like "man, I'm glad you didn't teach me how to read."

But this does raise the question of to what extent standard public schooling exists in the Nine Houses, because I don't believe any form of schooling has been mentioned outside of the context of the Sixth House. Abigail is a scholar, but where did her degree (or equivalent) come from? Did she just get her education by virtue of her privileged birth, or did she go to an academic institution that exists on the Fifth? Is the Sixth House the sole proprietor of higher education, or are there also respectable traditions on other Houses? Since the Nine Houses is basically Space Feudalism, by analogy that would limit literacy to the aristocracy and the Church. Did Gideon learn to read because the Ninth House is basically just 100% Church? And presumably, the Sixth House is essentially 100% aristocracy based on what's been said about their population and genetic diversity issues. But then, are there significant illiterate populations on, say, the Fifth, or the Third? Everyone who was invited to Canaan House was clearly expected to be literate (or at least, the necromancers were), but I guess that doesn't really tell us much about the overall literacy of regular people.

I started thinking about how we know Gideon can read because of her magazines, but then I had to wonder: who taught her how to read? not Harrow’s parents. certainly not the aunts or Crux. Aiglamene perhaps but I can’t see her having the patience.

please consider: Ortus taught her. he loves poetry! he’s writing the noniad! I have no real evidence for this I just like the idea of Ortus being kind to little Gideon and teaching her to read, even if she does apply that skill primarily to reading dirty magazines

[rafayelxsylusho]

College AU study sessions with the LADS men part 2

Xavierxreader

TW:SMUT

Xavier was exactly where you expected him to be, curled up in an oversized armchair tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, fast asleep. His blond hair was falling over his forehead as he breathed softly, a book resting open on his chest. The fading light from the setting sun outside the tall windows casting a warm glow over his face.

As you approached quietly, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. It was a scene you'd witnessed many times before, Xavier had the ability to fall asleep anywhere, it didn't matter the time of the day.

He stirred slightly as you drew closer, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth, as if he sensed your presence before you even spoke. Slowly, he opened his deep blue eyes and his gaze found yours.

'Y/n" he murmured, voice a bit rough from sleep. "Shouldn't you be in class?" He glanced at the clock on the wall, squinting a little to focus. "It's past six."

You were used to it now, spending late nights at the library together over the past year. While you read over your law books and case studies, he'd be engrossed in his astronomy texts, occasionally pointing out constellations in the night sky. More often than not, he'd sleep in one of these armchairs.

He stretched languidly after sitting up, the fabric of his sweater riding up to expose a strip of pale skin. "I'm starving" he said, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I was planning on heading home soon to cook some dinner. What about you? Have you eaten already or are you still at that?" He nodded towards your armful of books as stood up from the armchair, grabbing his own books and tucking them under his arm

You sighed softly, "I didn't have a chance to eat yet, I was too busy working on a project with Jeremiah." You shifted the stack of textbooks and papers you were holding, a few sheets threatening to slip out. "We were trying to get as much done as possible before the deadline tomorrow." You glanced up at Xavier, noticing how his hair still looked slightly tousled from his nap. "I guess I lost track of time."

At the mention of Jeremiah's name, a shadow seemed to pass over Xavier's features. "Jeremiah" he repeated, and there was a slight edge to his voice that wasn't there before.

He took a step closer to you, brows furrowing slightly as he looked down at you with an unreadable expression. "You were working late with Jeremiah," he said, almost like a statement rather than a question. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly on the books tucked under his arm. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression still unreadable. Then, with a small shake of his head, he seemed to push away the thoughts that had darkened his eyes at the mention of Jeremiah's name.

"You know, you could always come back to my dorm with me. I can cook something for you too." His eyes flicked to the stack of books you were holding. "You could study there while I cook. Killing two birds with one stone, as they say."

But you were already shaking your head, a small smile on your lips. "Actually, I already bought us something to eat on my way over here," you said, shifting the bags to show him the takeout containers tucked inside. "I didn't want to risk another... incident in your dorm." You raised your eyebrows at him, a teasing glint in your eye.

Xavier chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Ah, right. The incident last week, I thought we'd established that cooking in close quarters with a gas stove and a man who's prone to distraction is a bad idea."

You nodded, shouldering your bag more securely as you turned towards the door. "Yeah, my dorm is closer anyway. We might as well head over there," you said, glancing up at Xavier. "Unless you're in a rush to get back to yours for some reason."

As you walked side by side out of the quiet library and into the cooler evening air, Xavier's hand brushed against yours, his fingers lingering for just a moment. "No rush, besides, I quite like the idea of spending time together outside of the library. No distractions, just you, me, and..." His eyes flicked to the bags of food in your hands. "...dinner."

Once inside your dorm room, you set the bags of takeout food down on the small table near the window. The room was cozy and familiar, with your things scattered about, textbooks on the desk, a few pieces of laundry on the chair, and a half-drunk mug of tea cooling on the nightstand.

You busied yourself with unpacking the food, the savory aromas filling the small space. "I got your favorite," you said, gesturing to the containers. As you worked, you could feel Xavier's presence behind you, his tall frame casting a shadow across the room. You glanced back over your shoulder at him, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're hungry," you teased, grabbing some plates and utensils from the small kitchenette. "I may have gone a little overboard with the ordering."

As you stretched up on your tiptoes to reach the cups on the top shelf, you suddenly felt a warm presence behind you. The heat of Xavier's body seemed to envelop you as he stepped closer, his chest now centimeters away from your back. He didn't touch you, but you could feel the energy emanating from him, the tension in the air between your bodies. His breath ruffled the hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Here, let me," he murmured, his voice low and close to your ear.

Then his hands were there, one large hand wrapping around your waist to steady you, while the other easily reached up and grabbed the cups from the shelf. He set them down on the counter, his fingers lingering on you for a moment before he stepped back.

You turned around to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. He was watching you with a hint of something dark and heated in his blue eyes. "Thanks," you said softly, grabbing the cups and taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, but before you could react, Xavier was already striding towards it, his long legs eating up the short distance. He opened the door, revealing Jeremiah standing in the hallway. "Hey, is Y/n here?" He asked, glancing past Xavier to catch your eye. "I was just dropping off the rest of the project files we worked on earlier." His gaze lingered on you for a moment before flicking back to Xavier, a slight furrow in his brow.

Jeremiah was a tall, lanky guy with brown hair and glasses. He was your group project partner for the class, and also lived just a few doors down the hall in the dorm. "I thought I could come over and we could go over the final draft before tomorrow's presentation." He glanced at you, a hopeful look in his brown eyes.

You glanced over at Xavier, who was still holding the door open, his tall frame acting as a barrier between you and Jeremiah. "Jeremiah, hey," you said, stepping forward. "I was just about to have dinner with Xavier actually" You gestured to the containers of food on the table. "Is there something specific you needed to go over tonight? "

"Oh, uh, no, it's not urgent. Just wanted to review everything in detail, but I guess I can come back later or we can review it tomorrow morning before the presentation," he said, still sounding a bit uncertain.

Xavier's grip tightened slightly on the door handle, his posture stiffening. "Sounds like a plan then," he said, a note of finality in his voice. "I'm sure y/n will let you know when she's free." His tone made it clear that he expected Jeremiah to leave now.

Jeremiah blinked, catching the hint. "Right, yeah. Okay." He took a step back. "I'll just... see you tomorrow then, y/n." With a final glance at you, and a lingering look at Xavier, Jeremiah turned and walked away.

Xavier closed the door with a bit more force than necessary, the sound of it shutting echoing in the small room. He stood there for a moment, his back to you, his shoulders tense. Then, slowly, he turned around to face you.

His gaze flicked over you, taking in your startled expression. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice a bit tight. "I just... I didn't realize Jeremiah would be dropping by this late." He took a step towards you, closing the distance between you. "I didn't know he was in the habit of visiting you at... dinner time," he murmured, his voice low and a little rough around the edges.

"Jeremiah doesn't usually drop by this late. He's just really dedicated to our group project," You explain softly, "He's a nice guy, and a great study partner."

"Oh I'm sure he is", his voice a low rumble in his chest. Then you feel your heart skip a beat as Xavier leans in closer, his breath warm and tantalizing against your lips. For a moment, you think he might close the distance and capture your mouth with his own. Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, your body tensing in anticipation.

But then, unexpectedly, you feel his hand move past you, grabbing the utensils you had set down on the counter. He pulls back slightly, holding them up with a smile. "Looks like we're all set for dinner then," he says, a note of playful teasing in his voice.

As he busied himself with setting the table, you couldn't help but wonder what had just happened. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear your thoughts as you grabbed the cups to set them on the small table as well.

As you both ate, you couldn't help but notice the tension in Xavier's jaw, the way his chewing seemed a bit more aggressive than usual. He was going through the motions of eating, but his mind seemed preoccupied. You glanced up at him, a look of concern in your eyes as you watched him shove another forkful of food into his mouth. "Is everything okay, Xavier?" you asked softly, setting your own fork down on the table. "You seem a little... distracted tonight."

When he looked at you there was a hint of something dark and troubled in their blue depths. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I'm fine," he said, a bit too quickly. "Just have a lot on my mind, I guess." He shrugged, trying to brush off your concern.

Once you both finished you got up from your chair, plate in hand, and walked over to the small sink in the kitchenette to rinse it off. As you leaned over the sink, you could feel Xavier's presence behind you once again, heat radiating off his body as he reached around you to set his own plate down in the sink. His chest brushed against your back, his breath hot on the nape of your neck. "I can do that," he murmured His hands lingered on the edge of the sink, caging you in. 

 "I...I was just going to ," you managed to say, "It's n...no trouble at all, really." You stuttered, a flush creeping up your neck at the sudden proximity of Xavier's body to yours. You tried to turn around to face him, but found yourself trapped between his body and the counter. Your heart raced as you looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze. There was a fire in his eyes, a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Maybe I should...", you began to say, but Xavier cut you off. In one swift, fluid motion, he turned you around and grabbed your waist, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you down on the edge of the counter next to the sink, his hands remaining on your hips. "Let me take care of this," he said "You've done enough for tonight."

He was so close that you couldn't help but look down at Xavier's lips, your heart pounding in your chest. The air between you felt charged, electric, and you found yourself leaning in closer, drawn to the heat of his body and the intensity of his eyes.

"Xavier, I..." you breathed, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in, his lips now a mere whisper away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, your breath mingling with his. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you felt his lips brush against yours in the barest of touches. It was a teasing whisper, a promise of more to come. His thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his touch igniting a fire deep within you. You parted your lips slightly, a breathy sigh escaping you as you gazed up at him with hooded eyes. "Xavier," you breathed out once again, your voice trembling with anticipation. Your hands came up to rest on his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "Please," you whispered, not even sure what you were begging for, only knowing that you needed more of him. Your body ached for his touch, your soul craved his possession. In that moment, lost in the depths of his eyes, you would have given him anything he asked for.

With a soft whimper, you closed the remaining distance between you, pressing your lips fully against his in a desperate, needy kiss. Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him in as you parted your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Your heart raced as you felt his lips move against yours, the kiss turning more intense, more passionate with each passing second. You poured all your longing and desire into the kiss, your body melting against his as you clung to him, craving more of his touch.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, your skirt riding up your thighs as you pulled his hard body flush against your softer curves. Your ankles locked behind his back, holding him in place. Your fingers tangled in his short hair, tugging lightly as you angled your head to slide your tongue along the seam of his lips, silently begging for entrance.

You felt Xavier's large hands run slowly up your bare thighs, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His fingers gripped your soft flesh, squeezing lightly as he pulled your legs tighter around his waist. He groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, as his hands reached the hem of your skirt.

He broke the kiss, only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, his breath hot against your skin. "Y/n," he growled, his voice rough with desire "you drive me crazy" he murmured, licking his tongue flat along your neck up to your flushed cheek.

You grabbed both of Xavier's hands and eagerly guided them to your hips, encouraging him to grip the soft flesh tightly. A moan escaped your lips as his fingers sank into your curves, pulling you impossibly closer. Your chest heaved against his as you panted softly, your body aching for his touch. "Touch me, Xavier," you begged, grinding your hips against his in a desperate search for friction. "Please, I need you." Your words were punctuated by needy little kisses along his jawline, your fingers tugging at his hair and his shirt. You were lost in a haze of desire, your mind consumed by the feel of his body against yours.

You grabbed the hem of Xavier's shirt with eager hands, tugging at it insistently as you tried to yank it up and off his muscular torso. Your fingers brushed against the bare skin of his abdomen, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. You let out a soft gasp as more of his skin was revealed, your eyes darkening with lust at the sight of his toned body. "Xavier," you breathed out, your voice heavy with desire, "I want to feel you. All of you." Your hands slid up his chest, exploring his pectorals and the defined lines of his abs, marveling at the strength and power beneath his skin. You leaned in, placing hot, open mouthed kisses along his collarbone and up the side of his neck, your tongue darting out to taste his skin. Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as the last of your control slipped away, leaving you bare, wanting and completely at his mercy.

When your lips marked his neck, something primal and hungry flashed in Xavier's eyes. In an instant, his hands were at the front of your shirt unbuttoning it with a sense of urgency. Buttons flew open under his fingers, your shirt falling open to reveal your lacy bra underneath. He pushed the fabric off your shoulders impatiently, leaving it to pool around your elbows as he drank in the sight of your nearly bare breasts.

With a smile playing on your lips, you reached up and unclasped your bra at the front, your breasts spilling free. Xavier's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your bare flesh, his eyes roaming hungrily over your curves. He licked his lips, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "You're so beautiful." He leaned down, his tongue flicking out to circle one straining peak before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily. His other hand rolled and plucked at the other. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips as you arched into his touch, craving more.

With your movements, your skirt had ridden up your thighs, now barely covering your panties. The flimsy fabric strained against your core, damp with your arousal. Xavier's hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips tightly. He ground his hips into yours, letting you feel the thick ridge of his erection straining against his pants. "You feel what you do to me?" He rocked into you again, the friction delicious even through the layers of clothing separating you. One hand slid around to grip your ass, squeezing it and pulling your thigh up higher around his waist. The other hand slid under your skirt, his fingers brushing teasingly over the damp lace covering your pussy. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already," his fingers pressing more firmly against your clothed sex.  When you felt Xavier push your panties to the side and drag his fingers through your folds, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. Your hips bucked into his touch, seeking more of that friction.

"Xavier!" you cried out, your voice high and breathy with need. Your fingers clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him desperately. Your heart raced, blood singing in your veins as the heat of your desire consumed you. You were aching, empty, and you needed him to fill you. Your legs tightened around his waist, trying to pull him closer, to align his hard length with your dripping cunt.

"Fuck me, Xavier," you begged shamelessly, too far gone to care about anything but the feel of him inside you

But he had other plans. Ignoring your desperate pleas for a moment, he suddenly dropped to his knees before you. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further apart as he draped your legs over his broad shoulders. He dragged you down to the edge of the counter, your sex now level with his face. His eyes locked with yours as he leaned in, his breath hot against your exposed pussy.

He pulled your panties aside once more, baring you completely to his hungry eyes. Without warning, he dragged the flat of his tongue from your entrance up to your aching clit. A low, appreciative groan rumbled in his chest as he savored your taste, his eyes fluttering shut briefly before locking with yours again

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to devour you, his tongue delving between your walls to stroke and tease your most sensitive spots. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips, flicking it mercilessly as he plunged two long fingers deep into you. Your head fell back, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your hips bucked against his face, riding his fingers and tongue. "Yes, oh god yes!" you screamed, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you.

Your cries grew louder and more desperate as Xavier's skilled mouth and fingers worked you towards your peak. Suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes flashing up to meet yours as he pressed a finger to your lips. "Shh, you don't want the neighbors knowing what's going on here," he murmured, his voice low and rough with arousal. "Keep quiet for me, princess." He pushed his finger past your lips, pressing it against your tongue. "Suck," he commanded, his eyes burning into yours with intense desire."Don't make a sound until I say you can." His fingers pumped faster, his tongue swirling around your clit, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Determined to follow his command, you suckled obediently at Xavier's finger, hollowing your cheeks to muffle your increasingly desperate cries. Your tongue swirled around the digit as your hips undulated against his mouth and fingers. Xavier groaned around your cunt, the vibrations adding to the intense pleasure radiating through your core. He pumped his fingers harder, curling them to stroke that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit, the wet muscle fluttering against the sensitive bundle of nerves until it throbbed in time with your pounding heart. Your thighs trembled around his head. Tears of pleasure stung your eyes, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps through your nose as you fought to stay quiet. 

"C..I..cumming Xav..." you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment the words left your lips, Xavier withdrew his fingers from your mouth, only to replace them with a harsh pinch to your nipple. At the same time, he latched onto your clit, sucking it as he pushed you over the edge. Your vision went white as your body convulsed, back arching sharply as a silent scream tore from your throat. Wave after wave of pure, bliss crashed over you, your walls clamping down around Xavier's fingers as he worked you through your peak. Your juices gushed from your spasming sex, coating his chin and dripping down onto the kitchen tile below. The world fell away, narrowing down to the feeling of Xavier's touch, his mouth, his hands on your flesh as you rode out the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm of your life.

"That was the most delicious dessert after a meal I've ever had," he said, his voice low and rough with satisfaction. Rising to his feet, he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 

Still trembling with the aftershocks of your intense climax, your hands moved on autopilot to unbuckle his belt. Your fingers fumbled with the leather strap, desperation making them clumsy and uncoordinated. With a low growl, Xavier brushed your hands away and quickly unfastened his pants himself. He shoved them down his muscular thighs along with his boxer briefs, freeing his large, hard cock. It sprang up, long, thick and heavy, the head flushed a dark, angry red and already glistening with beads of moisture. Your mouth watered at the sight, your core clenching with need as you gazed at his impressive length.

Xavier's hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly as he watched you with a feral expression. "Fuck, I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice strained with desire. "Now." With his other hand, he grabbed your hip, yanking you to the edge of the counter once again. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he stepped between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your folds, your panties still pulled to the side.

"Hold on tight, princess," Xavier commanded. With one powerful thrust, he buried all the way into your fluttering heat. A loud moan tore from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls gripping him. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, his hips nestling against yours as he savored the feeling of being inside you.

He gave you a moment to adjust, his eyes searching yours intensely as he caressed your cheek with a gentler touch. Then, with a roll of his hips, he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, burying himself balls deep in your welcoming body. He set a hard, fast pace, the kitchen echoing with the slap of skin against skin and your shared moans of pleasure.

Xavier was a quiet man, but when it came to being inside you, fucking you this deep, he was anything but. Moans and grunts of pure satisfaction spilled from his lips with each powerful thrust of his hips. Obscene words, filthy praise and declarations of lust interspersed with your name, a litany of worship and desire.

Xavier grabbed your legs, his large hands wrapping around your calves as he pushed them up and out, planting your feet on the edge of the kitchen counter. This new position opened you wider, allowing him to plunge even deeper into you.

"Wider, baby," his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Let me in deeper, let me reach that sweet spot inside you. Fuck, I can feel you trembling around me. You're so close, aren't you? 

Your body tensed, back arching off the counter as a completely different sensation crashed over you. "Fuuuck!" you cried out, your voice high and thin with shock and overwhelming pleasure. Your sex clenched around his cock, squeezing him as a powerful, gushing orgasm ripped through you. Clear fluid sprayed from your core, splattering against Xavier's stomach as you squirted hard.

"Fuck yes, that's it!" Xavier's his hips never faltering as he fucked you through your climax. "Cum for me, fucking soak me with it. Goooooooods your cunt feels incredible when you cum, gripping me so fucking tight." He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, urgent kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as he pounded into you, prolonging your mind blowing orgasm. His control shattered the moment he felt your sex clench and spasm around him once more, a second gush of your essence flooding out to soak his cock and drip down onto the kitchen floor

"Fuck, baby, I can't... I'm going to..." he snarled, his words cutting off into a moan as his hips jerked erratically. His cock throbbed and pulsed inside you, growing even harder if that was possible, before he came. Xavier moves his hand over an invisible line where your tummy was being bloated with his length and you find yourself aching for more all over again. 

As Xavier caught his breath, he looked down at your flushed cheeks, noticing you glancing at the mess on his stomach and the puddle of your combined juices on the kitchen floor. A grin spread across his face. He traced a finger through the damp spot on his abdomen, scooping up some of your essence before bringing it to his lips. Maintaining eye contact with you, he licked it off, his tongue curling in a sensual manner.

"Mmm, we made quite the mess, didn't we princess?" he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "Looks like someone's appetite for me is insatiable" he nipped at your bottom lip, tugging on it gently before soothing the sting with a brush of his lips. His eyes, dark and intense, held your gaze as he murmured against your skin.

"I hope you didn't have any plans for the rest of the night, because you're not going anywhere. You're mine now, all night long."

[simbiotictears]

LnDs Boys if they were an Idol!boy group:

I won’t hear anyone out. I need this group to become a reality. Infold make a card of them as idols and I am yours!!

Leader + Main Rapper: Zayne

Appears to be the most mature but isn’t. He was voted the pettiest by the members followed by Sylus and Rafayel. He was given the role of leader due to his ability to keep the fans and his members under control (minus Sylus).

Designated translator: he can speak the most languages in the group. As a result, he leads the international interviews and fan interactions.

His fans know he likes sweet things, so they often gift him sweet treats in fan meets. The staff end up confiscating most of it to stop him from eating them all and getting cavities.

His stage persona is the cold nerdy type, this is because he refuses to wear contacts, so this allows him to wear his glasses when he's not performing on stage.

He gets injured the most. Don't even try to tell me he doesn't.

In terms of his voice, he has a mellow voice. He doesn't really sing but he raps well.

When it comes to dancing, he can’t really dance, but he works hard. After the main and lead dancers, he trains the third hardest. If dance was a science, he'd have top marks. It's the moving the body part he struggles with.

He did aegyo once and it got clipped and shipped and he hasn't been able to live it down since.

He doesn’t post on social media often, but when he does, he posts book reviews (mostly nonfiction and medical books) on Substack.

His day in the life YouTube video for the group channel was him visiting Cafes and testing their sweet treats. All of those Cafes have been packed ever since he went.

He is the third most popular in the group, and his fans are the most mature and peaceful. However, they do go feral when he gets freaky for the concepts.

Main Dancer + Lead Vocalist/Rapper: Caleb

He is a jack of all trades. If he was the youngest, he’d be golden. But he’s not, so he’s just the most versatile.

He sings, he dances, he raps, he’s pretty—what can’t he do?

His rapping is far better than his singing, but his singing is nowhere near terrible. He had to work very hard on his vocals before debut, but only his bandmates know that.

He is a hit or miss with the fans, still extremely popular, but those who love him are very devout.

He’s had the second most scandals in the group, after Sylus, for fake rumours and clips taken out of context.

He’s a big nerd and is very chaotic despite his cool more chill front he shows sometimes (when he’s not in the mood). His stage persona is the popular boy next door/big brother type, and he fits the role perfectly.

He is the one to say the most random facts in the middle of a video. Definitely watches 'Cunk on Earth.' He is chronically online.

He has 'Train with me' videos which sound a little questionable due to his loud breathing.

He surprised his fans with the news of his piloting license by randomly uploading a video of him piloting a fighter jet.

He pranks Zayne often and likes to dance late at night in the studio with Xavier.

Him and Sylus have beef that no one else understands— but they do and that’s all that matters.

He has a girlfriend who he unapologetically talks about, whilst not mentioning anything at all. This has got him into a lot of trouble, but he doesn’t care. He doesn't want his fans to try and hit on him. He is a committed man. Other than that, he is very private.

Designated cook: he used to cook for the members when they all lived in the dorms together.

Visual + Sub Rapper: Sylus

Actually, the most mature. He is the oldest and hottest. People ignore the fact that he can’t sing (though he is getting better) because of how hot he is.

He usually leads when the concepts are suaver and sultrier.

I can't emphasise this enough, but he got in because he’s hot— can’t lie, that’s most of the reason he got in.

His stage persona, much like his real life personality, is the bad boy/daddy type. (I am not sorry, you know he's going to be in a suit giving it an ateez level performance)

He speaks the second most languages in the group, so he usually sits behind or at the end of the line in interviews and takes some of the stress off of Zayne. Once the interviewers know he speaks their language they do try to get him to answer a lot of questions just to hear him speak... and you know what? same.

The camera loves him.

People beg him to do aegyo and he only does it very rarely. Not even losing a bet could force him to do aegyo. It has to be if one of the boys has got his (secret) girl on the line.

Has the rich man laugh. Hear me out, he once accidentally laughed at the end of a recording session when the mic was still on, and they kept it in the track… let’s just say that track and that specific part of the track won them their first seven awards.

He has the most ravenous, horny fans. Even straight men go feral for Sylus.

He is the most likely to be put on stage shirtless or told to rip his shirt mid performance; he’s not opposed, he works hard for his abs.

His 'Day in the life' YouTube video on their group channel where he drank wine, played the organ, made steak, boxed, and watched a movie over the span of ten hours has over 109 million views.

Still, he goes live the least. Mostly because he doesn’t know how to use the live feature properly.

Naturally, he has had the most scandals in the group, not by his own fault mind you. And there have been public issues with their company's unfair distribution of his lines in most songs. (Sometimes they’re lucky if he gets four lines.)

He calls his fans “kittens” which makes all the other members hurl.

Face of The Group + Centre + Main Vocalist: Rafayel

The pretty boy of the group.

Designated Brat: he will argue with everyone about everything. He is the sassiest of the group and also the whiniest. He acts like the youngest but isn’t??

Has the voice of a literal angel and the face to match.

He spends the most time with Xavier because Xavier doesn’t argue with his insane logic (the boy is exhausted, save my boy Xavier).

He pretends to hate acting cute, but he secretly loves it.

People ship him with literally everyone in the group, but mostly Xavier and Zayne. It’s the icy x sunshine dynamic.

Designated model: He has the best fashion and always dresses like he’s about to hit the runway. His airport photos are basically photo cards in and off themselves. And a few times they've ended up on the cover of high fashion magazines. He would never be caught dead in anything less than the best.

He is the laziest in terms of training, but who needs to train when they’re that beautiful? (His words, not mine.)

Zayne has to threaten him to get him to go to dance practice.

He goes live with Xavier most often.

He is the one who controls the social media pages. He loves posting the most random stuff.

His ending fairies always go viral.

One time a fan asked him to marry them when he was live and he asked how big their paycheck was.

Should have more scandals than he does, most of his drama is people arguing about his sexuality— to which he tells everyone to mind their own business.

He’s terrified of cats. The group went on a YouTube Channel where they got to play with cats as they answered questions. Rafayel hissed at any cat that came near him and hid behind Sylus.

He once did a paint with me stream and everyone was shocked at his skills and art knowledge to which he said he went to art school.

Maknae + Lead Dancer + Sub Vocalist: Xavier

The youngest of the group.

His stage persona is the shy boy/prince type. Because of this, everyone thinks that this sweet man is innocent, but he’s a freak.

Can pull off literally any concept.

Has insane dance skills. (I don't want to hear it. In a world where they are idols that man can dance.)

Him and Caleb are the most likely to be in the dance studio late at night practicing.

Because he works so hard at night and off camera, the fans think he is lazy or “always tired.” He is anemic, but his sleepiness mostly comes from his excessive training.

He has a secret dance TikTok called Lumiere; where he dances with a hood on, a face mask, and in baggy clothes. Some fans have hypothesised that him and Lumiere are the same person, but he never confirms it.

He nearly got caught once when Rafayel was live, and he walked back into their hotel room with the same hoodie on as his latest TikTok video.

He mostly enjoys releasing dance videos on their group TikTok and YouTube channel with Caleb because their styles blend well together.

When they do more lifestyle like content, he is either with Rafayel or Caleb.

He has a very soft and pretty voice, which makes most people swoon though he actually prefers rapping, but the group would have too many rappers, so he sticks to singing.

He once sat in on Caleb’s live with Sylus and Zayne and rapped a whole cypher, which shocked all the fans because he sounded so good! He’s got insane flow.

It started the #letXavierRap trend.

Has a secret partner, and his biggest scandal was a hickey that wasn’t covered up properly.

People love the princely concept on him. He lowkey hates it. He only wears it on the stage.

He grew out his hair once and everyone begged him not to cut it again (he did, it got in the way of his face when he was dancing.)

They once had a concept where they all had to act. Much to everyone’s surprise, Xavier did so well that he started to get offered acting gigs. He mostly turns them down, but once in a while his fans might spot him as the lead in a C drama or two.

He can’t cook to save his life.

He relies on Caleb and Sylus to make everything; however, he does eat pot noodles when they refuse.

He once tried to cook for the members, and they had to move dorms because the place caught fire. Of course, that was before they all moved to their own places.

[shatterthefragments]

Thank you 🫂💖

Last song: euphoria by Polyphia 😌

Favourite colour: blues and yellow ochre

Last book: what they always tell us by Martin Wilson (and I’ll reread it AGAIN!)

Last movie: I’m. It may still be monkey man or love lies bleeding from last year? …no actually we did a watch of everything everywhere all at once over the summer I think (where I sobbed the whole time 😘 love, from: your local undiagnosed white passing wasian Chinese American queer disappointment child who relates to easily to everything (everywhere all at once) but!!! One of my coworkers recommended Flow and it had cats so. Might have to try to make it out to see it!

Last TV show: I think it was when my sister and I watched black sails… 2023? Otherwise possibly leverage?

Looking forward to: SO MANY THINGS!!! I intentionally give myself lots to look forward to 😌 Apocalyptica pre birthday in GOOD SEATS! (Even if I did buy two and have an extra ticket now…maybe I’ll see if one of my friends from college wants to go. They’re a big (small) concert person and we haven’t seen each other in years) TPIY with @branches-in-a-flood ! Tattoo with @ongreenergrasses ! Fancy hot chocolate! Daughtry/nothing more/disturbed and then Spiritbox with @vessels-two-front-teeth and @elkkiel ! MCR with one of my best friends from college! Stardew orchestra performance! Linkin park with some coworkers! Lots of little art projects I have piled on to do! Hopefully starting semi regularly at a ceramics studio! (Or at least a workshop every few months!) hopefully starting the first steps to get back into kickboxing(?) (but at a lower intensity so I can still mask while doing so). Hopefully getting my room more into a functional space that I can work along the desire paths of where I always put stuff! (Hopefully starting the phone calls necessary to maybe get on T for a short bit and to get on the top surgery wait list?)

Sweet/spicy/savoury? ✨yes✨ (preferably a little thing of each :))

Current obsession: sleep token, however. I am also. You know how fixations sometimes come and go and recur a LOT. Well. Guess who remembered the term “MOTIF” and uhhhhhh. So anyway I’m turning Motifs over in my head and it kinda sounds better that “ah yes that’s a motif in my life” rather than “AGAIN??? AGAIN?&?!” Also I fixate a lot on words and phrases so. Sometimes those.

Last search: a month to find a picture of my current Events Board to see if I was forgetting anything I was looking forward to. On Internet? I was using Firefox focus so. I. Cannot go back to check what it was… OH. I was looking up hotels for a night bc I’d love to see Marcin HOWEVER. Despite $35 for show ticket. So far. $340 is the cheapest hotel room of the nearby one that I usually like to go to. For a hostel style shared bathroom situation I could get a much cheaper room. But it’s much farther away from the venue. And $160. I mean. The single bed is at least in a private bedroom. Itty bitty of course but. Private. And the htrmmm. It’s just. I barely know Marcin but know I’d love him based on the one song and what I know of him. But also. That’s a lot of money especially when I’m headed out a few times that month anyway. So. Most likely I’ll procrastinate and not buy a ticket and it’ll sell out and it’ll be out of my hands anyway and what will be will be 🤷🏻‍♂️

Ten people I'd like to know better .⋆˙✮ ˎˊ˗

Thank you so much for the tag @spocksmalewife! 🤘🔥

Last song: 200 Bodies per Minute by Acumen Nation

Favourite colour: Teal! Petrol blue! Cyan! Turquoise! (tho any shade from green to blue will do) 💚💙

Last book: Principles of Two-Dimensional Design by Wucius Wong (i'm not big on novels lol)

Last movie: Maratonci trče počasni krug (1982) if we're not counting all the Netflix brainrot (and if we are... The Secret Life of Pets 2 💀)

Last TV show: Lexx (but... once again... if we're counting Netflix brainrot... Good Witch 💀💀💀)

Sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet is my weakness ;_;

Current obsession: anything Cracknation related

Last thing I searched online: cd emoji

Looking forward to: next Liburnicon (tho kinda dreading it at the same time) and hopefully seeing DAF in April!

Tags (but no pressure!): @acousticcancer @jar-jar-ate @v4mp1res3verywhere @flashbic @casekt @fallziell @suspiriasuspense @knaveofpentacles @fiul-risipit @athenawilcox and any other mutuals who might feel like it!