#i need something to get me interested in footy

[fazcinatingblog]

Happy Thursday!!!!!!

[oceantornadoo]

Could you maybe write a fic for Simon pursuing a reader who has no experience despite being in her early 20s?

(disclaimer: this ask said early 20s but i didn't really focus on that exact age for reality and inclusivity purposes)

you like to think you're a pretty calm person. have to be, for the kind of work you do - can't be a hothead when you're dealing with hundreds of other hotheads (a.k.a. military men). that environment, seeing the vicious effects of too much testosterone and loyalty to those who don't deserve it, has led you to this predicament. a lack of experience with men. all the ones you've met are loud or self-absorbed and your work is so time-consuming so that when you've found yourself at this precipice, you realize you have no experience to guide you. only a few drunk kisses and one teenage crush to act as the map for the journey you're about to take.

it was odd, how easily you fell into simon riley. he duped you into your first date, calling it a celebratory post-mission dinner when in reality, he'd had the reservations for weeks. it progressed smoothly from there: coffee and ice cream and a scary movie you didn't want to see alone. a few weeks later and you let him into your sacred apartment, a couch no man had ever sat on. he was so respectful, soft words and light touches to get you comfortable with him.

you intrigued simon. it was like befriending a stray cat; one wrong move and he'd be out in the hall. he'd asked around (a.k.a. asked johnny) and found out you'd never dated anyone on base. not surprising, he hadn't either, but your skittish nature led him to believe you'd never dated anybody. you were comfortable with men, sure, but you'd never made any moves on simon despite seeming to like him so much. if he were a less confident man, he would think you weren't interested, but it was in the way your eyes lingered on him, the glances you shot him when you thought he wasn't looking. he decided a conversation was necessary to clear the air so he didn't keep handling you like a bomb that could go off any second.

the two of you were watching footie, a bowl of popcorn in the middle. your hands brushed occasionally as you ate, your knee touching his, but nothing further. simon was well practiced in restraint, and he would wait as long as he needed to, but he felt like he was operating blind, no night vision goggles in sight. "love." it was like flipping a switch. you jumped up, snatching the popcorn bowl and murmuring something about supplying a refill even though it was more than halfway full. he let you have your freakout in the kitchen, giving you time to collect your thoughts. finally, you came back ten minutes later, hand shaking slightly as you put the bowl back down, which was decidedly not full. "can i ask you somethin'?" his hand gripped your knee before you could get up again, settling you back on the couch. your eyes were wide, searching his at a rapid speed as you tried to figure out what he was asking.

"w-what?" he started stroking your knee slowly, thumb brushing over the fabric of your sweats. he didn't answer right away, letting the rhythm of his thumb calm you until your shoulders dropped a fraction. "do i scare y'?" he murmured in a low tone. your shoulders dropped completely, your head collapsing on the couch behind you. you figured it was time to have this talk anyways. "no, it's nothing like that. i trust you, si." he nodded, checking a question off his list. his thumb was still stroking you, the motion anchoring you to the moment. "did someone hurt y'? before me?" you shook your head. "no, it's nothing like that. i just-" you cut yourself off, biting your lip. you chanced a glance at simon, his face open and patient. "i just don't have a lot of experience with men. and it makes me nervous, thinking i'll do something wrong." simon nodded in understanding. "'s while y're so jumpy. how much experience?" you muttered your answer too low for him to hear. "wot?" ugh. "none." oh. oh.

simon was rewriting scripts in his head. no experience was not what he was expecting, but it didn't put him off. if anything, he felt honored you picked him to give you experience. "doesn't matter, love. we can go 's slow as you want. just gotta tell me what y' want." your hand covered his on your knee. "i want you, si. i just don't know how to show it." he squeezed your knee. "trust me?" you nodded instantly. suddenly, you were being moved, strong hands around your waist dragging you into simon's lap. he arranged you into a straddle, setting you back on the middle of his thighs. simon didn't want to give you the wrong idea by putting you on his cock so soon. there was time.

"ya ever kiss anyone?" you gave him a small smile. "not sober. none that i really remember." he laughed, the feeling vibrating through his chest down to his thighs. it was exhilarating, being so close to him and not being scared. you were still nervous, sure, but there was less expectation hanging over your head now that you had talked. "c'mere. we'll take it slow. close your eyes." he sat up a little, a hand on your hip preventing you from being jostled. you closed your eyes obediently, lips parting slightly with the exhale of your breath. you could feel his body heat come closer. he brushed his lips against yours, pulled back, and then gave you a real kiss.

you weren't sure what to do. you had listened to enough advice podcasts to know you shouldn't use any tongue, but that was it. his lips were soft, if a bit chapped, pressing against yours deliciously. he felt so close, so intimate, and you pushed back against him, just a little. it melted your heart a little as he pushed back, warm and willing. your hands instinctively dove into his hair, finally feeling those strands you'd been dreaming about. it went on and on, experimenting with little licks and bites as you got more confident. unfortunately, the more passionate you became, the less air in your lungs. you pulled back with a gasp.

"fuck." his lips were swollen and red, his hair sticking up at all angles. ravished. "good?" he asked, licking his lips. you nodded. "can we do it again?" the eagerness would have made you cringe if you didn't want it so much. "yeah, baby, anytime you want. c'mere."

--

i hope i did this justice!! my first kiss was terrible but i was also 14 so i think it would be better with an experienced man lol

[othervee]

Hi Vee!

What is the scene or moment in YR that hooked you into the show 💜

Hi yourself! Oooh, this is a good one. The scene that hooked me was the entirety of the very first scene pre-credits and I will elucidate.

Seeing Wilhelm in that fancy bathroom - just a kid with his floppy hair and bruised face - I was so struck with the number of emotions Edvin somehow managed to convey in that two seconds with his posture and then with his face when he looks into the mirror.

Then when he's in the car and raises his hand to hide his face from the photographers. His face switches; he instantly puts up a wall, and it's in his face as well as the upraised hand. And again there's a mixture of emotions there.

And finally, there's that moment that he looks right into the camera. It's bold, it's unexpected, it makes you think but you don't have time because you get the titles across his face and the blast of 'Wannabe Ghetto'.

I've worked with a number of wealthy people, many of whom had inherited wealth and felt that their privilege meant they needed to take on responsibilities and a public persona that didn't actually fit who they are. It's something we were all aware of but nobody actually spoke about it at all. One of my friends once said, "Geez, what if you were born a [FAMOUS FAMILY] and all you wanted to do was play footy?"

And I'm fascinated with this mystic quality we seem to grant to royalty, and I'm not immune to it myself as witnessed by the time I was actually in! the! room! with! an! actual! royal! and bragged about it to everyone I knew. And I've done media interviews myself as a spokesperson for my organisation and I was scared to do it as a thirtysomething with media training, so I can't imagine how it would be for a sixteen-year-old with WAY more scrutiny on him even with the best media training in the world.

So this show spoke to personal and professional interests of mine, and it came at an interesting moment, too. I didn't really become aware of YR until around the time the second season was about to drop. I was watching Heartstopper (I'd been reading it online since Covid times) and there's overlap in the fandoms, so I was kind of aware YR was out there but I didn't really pay that much attention until Kit Connor's forced public outing, when people reposted Edvin and Omar's messages of support. And it was right around the time Prince Harry's memoir was about to be released and all the gossip and scorn and salaciousness around that.

So by the moment Wilhelm's glance caught mine through the TV screen, I was hooked.

[foreverisntenough]

what is your fav Trent lore?

Oh my god... What a question... I need people to send me theirs!

Often when I think about lore unfortunately a lot of insane things come to mind lol like bad things but I'll choose to not talk about those RN. I already shared some today lol.

Honestly.... Trent lore for me often falls into a group of just attributes of his whether that be physical or like circumstantial. I will reblog this again with example links another time BUT for now...

Liking being alone. This always gets me or reminds me of the theragun video but like this boy actively tells other people he's with he'll just be like nah, not interested in all that. like okay we get it??? Leave you alone got it 😂

How shit PLG is honestly just jokes... but in general his ties to family. On the flip side of PLG but I love big brother Trent. Like sharing his clothes with Marcel or when he says 'my little brother' Honestly, family Trent is my favorite. It makes me melt. so in lieu of of that... UNCLE TRENT 🥺🥺🥺 Aura baby has my heart.

Bow Legs, Tummy, Lips... all of it. You know when you see clips of Trent's lips and you're like wow those lips yum but it's from ages ago but it's just quintessinal Trent. I don't know how else to articulate this

His like... what I would call 'catchphrases? The accent? Him saying 'nah' or 'seee' or 'wow' I could go on whenever he speaks. Someone just recently posted a compilation.

Speaking of him talking...But the way he speaks about football. I have to find the clips but it's so on brand for him to deliver like lengthy monologues about footy. Like as cheesy as this sound he is such a student about the game. Like he's so educated in it and the way he speaks

Any nerd core always get me. Like when he talks about liking to watch certain movies, or like just even nerdy behavior if he's speaking about a topic that he knows wayyy too much about. There are times were I feel like he momentarily forgets his 'nonchalant' persona

Trent's giggles send me. Like him cracking from trying to be 'cool Trent.' because it's just genuine Trent coming through. Like he can't help himself from thinking something is funny, or he's being cheeky himself.

Sorry this was longer and terribly articulated but I hope you get them. I'll grab links later. xx

[savebylou]

Article below. Read it if you can.

The discourse surrounding Harry Styles is many things, but one thing it literally ALWAYS is is exhausting. Harry Styles has reached the calibre of celebrity and fandom that whatever move he makes, how he chooses to do his hair, what he chooses to wear all spark conversation and debate. It feels like for years now the odiously boring conversation on whether Harry Styles has been “queerbaiting” or not is a never ending pollution across social media and the more yawn inducing side of Reddit – but now, it’s pivoted in a new direction thanks to how Harry Styles looked when he went to watch a footie game the other day, with people saying he’s now “straight again”. O-kay.

Just a very bizarre opinion to be fronted with, in my opinion. And even more bizarre to see it’s currently sitting on 138,000 likes – which either means that many people genuinely believe such trite nonsense or they think it’s funny. It’s got to a boring area of the discourse where it doesn’t matter if Harry Styles rocks up in the pretty bog standard, neutral outfit he did or wears a feather boa as per his Love On Tour era – he’d be spoken about with the word queerbaiting not fair behind.

I think where this gets really problematic is that it’s sort of all centred on the nonsensical. If Harry Styles is bi, gay, queer – any of those things being entirely his business to keep to himself or share when he wants – then why would he suddenly not be if he wears a muted colour, goes the footie or cuts his hair shorter? I feel like the fact I’m even having to voice this makes me feel like I’ve fell down a time slip to 2010 or something. And what I find even more baffling is that the outfit in question is a shirt and sweater vest, big 70s vibes – isn’t that how Harry’s been dressing for … years? So we’re saying all this Harry Styles ‘is straight again’ because he’s cropped his hair short? Do me a favour.

Was particularly riled at this one, which suggests the reason that Harry Styles isn’t walking into a footie match with a feather boa on and some pink palazzo trousers is because Love On Tour has ended and so has the album cycle – therefore he has not interest in… Your guess is as good as mine. No interest in being gay, of which he more than likely isn’t anyway? No interest in appealing to gays? Why are we pretending that over half of every stadium on Love On Tour wasn’t filled with heterosexual women?

It’s all just very weird, to be honest with you. I am writing this as a gay man, and whether Harry Styles is presenting himself in whatever way he’s seen fit I have never once felt “queerbaited”. I have not spent the last few years of my life thinking Harry Styles was LGBTQ+ – just that he was a massive ally and someone who wasn’t afraid to be a bit flamboyant from time to time. Even if he was gay or bi or whatever it would make a grand total of zero difference to my life or to my enjoyment of his music.

If your first thought when you see a pop star with shorter hair at a footie game is “oh, Harry Styles is straight again” – you need an urgent life.

Link to article.

[uptonogoodindiememes]

One Tree Hill Sentence Meme - Resolve

“Well good morning to you too, Sunshine,”

“Just talk to him, what’s the big deal?”

“That was very smooth,”

“Whatever you’re about to say, the answer is no,”

“You know for a smart woman, you sure are being really stupid,”

“Maybe my being here is a bad idea,”

“This is so going on the fridge!”

“Maybe you could tutor me,”

“You really alphabetize your collection?”

“Happy looks good on you,”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“If anyone can make a chocolate chip cookie taste better it’s you,”

“Did the closet explode?”

“Hey, I almost didn’t recognize you,”

“I know that it is very hard for you to accept the truth,”

“Hey, we have a problem,”

“You screwed me over for a guy who won’t screw you,”

“Interesting, care to bet on that?”

“I kind of expected it, you know? It’s like, another day, another disaster,”

“I just wanna let it all go away, you know? I don’t want to be like this anymore,”

“Would you like to come over for dinner?”

“I thought vampires had to be invited in,”

“Do you remember the night before our wedding?”

“I knew I was on the verge of making a huge mistake,”

“Do not come back! I’m not doing this anymore!”

“You keep looking at my weird,”

“I’ve had one serious girlfriend, but it didn’t end well,”

“Turns out she was cheating on me pretty much the whole time,”

“I just wanted to start over, you know? I mean the next relationship I get into is going to be with someone I can trust,”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Trust me, it’ll be a night to remember,”

“I don’t know how to dance to this kind of music,”

“My parents would dance like this, late at night after I went to bed. I used to sit on top of the stairs in my footy pajamas, and just watch them,”

“There’s a lot of people out there,”

“So tell me again why ice cream was a good idea on a cold night?��

“It’s all part of my plan, to get you cold so that I can warm you up,”

“This plan was your idea, what do you mean you can’t go on?”

“I messed up so many things, things I cannot fix,”

“This is one of the most notorious makeout spots in town,”

“I thought maybe we could talk,”

“I don’t care about who you were, I care about who you are,”

“I didn’t think guys like you actually existed,”

“I put a dash of salt in there, that’s what it said in the recipe,”

“I needed some quick cash, oaky?”

“I just wanted you to have a great prom,”

“I’ve seen how you are when you set your mind to something, I can help you,”

“I had a really great time, I feel bad we didn’t actually study,”

“Oh man, I’ve got cookie dough all over me,”

“This is the best cookie I’ve ever had,”

“It’s okay to let yourself be happy,”

“You’ve been quiet all night,”

[coachbeards]

(jamie & beard anon) ohhh beard's family/childhood is definitely messed up and i think while not living there, he is still somewhat in touch sporadically or at least he knows what is going on since he says his mum has gone full blown qanon.. I can see both his parents possibly not being parents at all, leaving him to himself since he was a kid which ends up with him keeping the wrong company (+ addiction can run in the family if he was so exposed to it growing up it's not surprising). While jamie has not gone into sex work it could be seen as him having a particular relationship with his own body (the body as a vehicle for footie + him going to have sex live on tv) so perhaps there is an element of hypersexualization as a consequence of trauma (depending what we assume Beard has experienced as a child.. but a house of addicts is often filled with people taking advantage of unsupervised kids that no one will protect). I am going to be honest and admit I don't really have enough knowledge of stis to say whether they could've got them in certain instances and they keep coming back? is that a thing? I do feel like i read something about survivors of abuse being more likely to have recurring infections but have no idea on the science behind it, if it has something to do with a messed up immune system. I don't know where you stand on ships, but also an interesting thing to see if either one was in a relationship and how their partner (likely not informed on the matter) would take to them suddenly having a sti aka "they cheated" (jane definitely would think that!). And on that note - 100% behind jamie being the one making beard realise he deserves better!!

not to derail into my personal headcanons for beard (trust me he's like a full fledged person in my brain im like picturing his childhood bedroom and everything lmao. i have so many thoughts about him) but..... i think his father was a vietnam war veteran, common for children born during the early 70s like beard was....a father who's reeling from his trauma from the war, becoming an alcoholic (which is also extremely common),,, beard growing up like that, with a volatile tough household, irish catholic conservative parents in 20th century illinois..... i think beard was very much. on his own. like as much as he could be. which led to stunted emotional development and social skills, as he's definitely also autistic (undiagnosed for the longest time, obviously. i actually Don't think he's diagnosed /now/) so he really was,,,,,,,,,, on his own.

and then we get the canonical information that beard turned to sex work in college as a stripper, and given his parents (or what we can infer) he probably did so as a last resort to help pay for college, rather than just because he wants to. needing the money, desperate for it, resorting to sex work that continues into his adulthood since he has to exchange his body for drugs/money/food..... i think there's a chance beard's had his fair share of treatable stis, like chlamydia or gonorrhea, especially since meth causes lots of disinhibition and incredibly unsafe sex........ yeah.

i do think beard's immune system has definitely taken a huge hit from his various medical struggles.....yeah.

but with beard and jamie i really do think it's interesting how they both......have signed away their bodies for others uses. jamie's body belongs to football, to whatever team has him. like. his body isn't his own. it's Theirs. and beard had a similar thing with his sex work (also i think it's so fascinating that beard............. left one career of service to....becoming ted's long term assistant. like. he never left giving himself up for others, he just transferred it from sex work to coaching) ... like they have never been their own people. they've always belonged or provided services for someone/something else,,,,,,, and it's such a hard thing to shake, especially when they've both suffered violations of autonomy and their selves................

i know this is a ramble and makes zero sense but. i think the both of them losing autonomy and still never fully having it back..... yeah.

[jackmcdornan]

Entry 1: About Me page

Entry 1: About Me page including: a brief on your background, sport interests, work experiences and career ambitions. In addition: a reflection on your study performance to date and areas to improve; expectations and aspirations for this subject and your internship.

My name is Jack McDornan, I am 21 years old and currently living in Wantrina south. I have a family of 5 which includes two siblings, my sisters Meg and Abby with me being the middle child, currently living with my mum.  

Growing up I always had a love for sport with some of my earliest memories are attending the AFL or watching it on TV. Being a passionate Brisbane Lions fan has taught me resilience, but it has always been able to give me joy through the darkest moments. I started my schooling journey at Laburnum Primary School in Blackburn and was quick to realise school wasn't for me and often found myself relating my schooling towards the footy, which was often turned down by my teachers. 

As I got older I continued to lean towards sports rather than my schooling finding love in other sports such as cricket, basketball and now the UFC, this led me to struggle with schooling in my higher education at Vermont Secondary college where I was quick to fall behind which led to me moving to a more hands on education at SEDA college which I found the type of learning for me. Combining my love for sports and school was exactly what I needed. With help from my year 12 teacher Josh Newman i finally found love for schooling.  

After finishing year 12 I was unable to enroll into the course i wanted to due to not doing VCE which was the bachelor of sports media, so I decided to take on a diploma of sport and business at the Collingwood football club which was the inaugural year of the course. 

Throughout this diploma I was lucky enough to Volunteering at the Collingwood, which led me to have a lot of industry access. After receiving my diploma i was able to enroll in Holmesglens bachelor of sport media, which at the start I found quite difficult due to my lack of doing essays and meeting deadlines due to my more hands-on study at SEDA. But with hard work I was able to get the hang of it. Something I'm looking forward to is the internship due to the fact I'm more of a hands-on learner, with the aspirations to do something in the space of sports media organisation content creation or social media.  

[allwaswell16]

Part 3 of my favorite One Direction a/b/o fics as requested in this ask. Another long one because I love this trope. Please leave kudos and comments for the writers if you enjoy the fic! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

Part 1 /// Part 2

Alpha Harry/Omega Louis

Follow Your Arrow by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 36k, canon) They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything. It was the best thing for the band, so he doesn’t really regret it except deep in the dead of night, when he bites down on his knuckles to swap the echoing ache of depri for a sting of pain.

Mark my word (we gon’ be alright) by harioandlouigi

(E, 35k, pack dynamics) an A/B/O AU featuring an oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

Compass to my Soul by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 31k, canon) Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.

Misbehaving Honeys by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 28k, football au) In which Omega Louis can't figure out why the alpha newbie on their footie team seems to hold a grudge against him.

how do I stay tender by jessicamcqueen

(E, 16k, neighbors) Louis has touch depri and Harry is the alpha neighbor that offers to help.

Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt

(G, 14k, touch deprivation) Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. 

baby, you're the end of june by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 13k, courting) In which Harry courts Louis. Entirely by accident.

Hint: I want to be yours by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(M, 11k, fwb)  the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.

good enough (for you) by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 8k, olympics) omega louis is next in line to rule the pack. in spite of the rule saying he needs an alpha to rule, he creates an impossible olympics to find a worthy mate.

Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren

(E, 5k, uni au)  Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

you fit me better by docklands / @hershelsue

(E, 3k, laundry) At the laundromat, he meets Harry, a meddlesome alpha who smells divinely enough to ease his anxiety.

Simply the Nest (Better Than All the Rest) by @homosociallyyours

(G, 2k, omega drop) It's been a few months since Louis moved to a new town, and he still hasn't managed to get his nest to feel as comforting as he'd like it to. 

Alpha Louis/Omega Harry

Ace of Spades by @allwaswell16

(E, 78k, pirate au) Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

These High Walls by LarryAlways28

(E, 68k, CEO Harry)  when the older, and wildly attractive Harry Styles offers him a deal in exchange for saving his family's legacy- how could Louis ever refuse that?

Unveiled by phdmama / @phd-mama

(M, 65k, royal au) There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.

I Like You, Say It Back by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(E, 43k, fwb) the one where it takes a lot of time for Harry and Louis to figure it out. But they do, they always do, don't they?

 take my hand, wreck my plans by amomentoflove / daggerandrose

(T, 38k, Cinderella au) Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him.

The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 20k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

It's Been Ages by @2tiedships2

(NR, 13k, friends to lovers) Louis shook his head in exasperation. “If you’ve been watching, you would see that Harry is interested in, like, alpha alphas. Not me.”

Find Me in the Kitchen by @neondiamond

(E, 9k, cooking au) When Harry sees Louis step in his beginners cooking class for the first time, he’s surprised to say the least.

Moon Baby by @jaerie

(E, 7k, porn stars au) Moon Baby is arguably the most well known pregnant omegas in the same circle. 

A Silver Lining In A Storm (You Were Lightning, I Was Born) by @fallinglikethis

(E, 7k, arranged marriage) the only responsibility he’s aware of is to give his husband, the future king, an heir.

to wrap me in paper by @juliusschmidt

(E, 6k, uni au) Louis hasn't been keeping track of his ruts, but, it turns out, Harry has.

Nontraditional Dynamics H/L

dip you in honey by delsicle / @eeveelou

(E, 28k, omega/omega) Princess Harry, the pearl of England, is set to be married to the youngest prince of France in just six months.

Single Bells Ring by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(M, 16k, alpha/alpha) A holiday singles event is not where Louis wants to be tonight, but there he is, helping his best friend find love.

Never Been Knotted by @allwaswell16

(E, 9k, alpha Louis/beta Harry) There's just one small problem: he'd really like to be knotted.

All I Do the Whole Day Through by @lululawrence

(NR, 6k, omega/omega) But why was Harry using Louis’ clothes and items that probably smelled like him in his nest?

Where I'm Meant To Be by Halos_Boat / @halohamilton

(E, 6k, alpha/alpha) When Louis helps Harry out with his rut so he can get it done in time for his exam, they're forced to face feelings they were habouring for a while.

Rare Pairs

Make It Up As We Go Along by @lululawrence

(NR, 52k, ot5) When a baby is left on their doorstep, their lives become the definition of chaos...but maybe that is exactly what they need to see what has been right in front of them all along.

enough to make a girl blush by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 22k, Niall/Louis) When Louis moves from her small hometown to the city, she runs into her childhood friend Niall. Despite her surprise at learning that Niall presented as an alpha, she’s immediately drawn to her. 

over my shoulder by @nouies

(E, 11k, Louis/Sebastian Stan) The media thinks omega singer Louis Tomlinson is dating alpha actor Sebastian Stan because they bump into each other all the time.

All The Small Things by restless_rebels / @restless-rebels

(NR, 6k, Louis/Liam) Louis finally looked up, staring at the same boy from the laundry room, his hair dry and soft looking, a short quiff at the top of his head. “Hey, uh, Liam, right?”

[possibilistfanfiction]

Your footy au is so awesome and giving me all the feelings

[hopefully i’ll be able to finish & post ch4 tomorrow but a little preview (& ode to tobin, if u know lol) to offset how bOring the uswnt game is rn 🙄]

//

you get a few questions about your continued work in advocacy, team chemistry, and how you’re looking forward to your club season and the world cup.

‘there’s a few new players on the roster that you’ll play against in a few days, maybe a different look to this team than what you might be used to,’ one journalist says. ‘do you have any specific team tactics you’re bringing into this upcoming match, especially as the world cup approaches?’

‘sure. any player called up and rostered is going to be dangerous, of course,’ you say. ‘and their veterans, as well, deserve a lot of credit. i’ve played with mary for years and there’s no better a leader than her.’ you really are thinking about the upcoming match when you continue, ‘and, obviously, in regard to some new faces we’ll see, ava silva can score when she wants, so we’ve got to make sure we keep her in check.’ you can’t help but smile. ‘easier said than done, of course. but beyond that, we just need to stick to our game plan: be patient, control the midfield, win tackles, finish. we’ve come together really well after this break, so i’m excited.’

you answer a few more specific tactical questions, and then you’re done. you say hi to a few of your favorite journalists that you haven’t seen in a few months, and then make your way back to your room. when you look at your phone, you roll your eyes at the number of texts you already see, try to wrack your brain for something you’d said that had been that interesting.

you answer when ava calls, and she’s laughing. ‘hi bea!’

‘hello, ava.’

‘wait, one second.’ she facetimes you with mary in the background, who waves with a good-natured eye roll at ava’s antics; she’s practically vibrating. ‘okay, here,’ she says, then turns her camera around so you can see her laptop on a youtube video, then presses play. ‘ava silva can score when she wants,’ you hear, and you groan.

‘ava.’

‘this is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me.’

‘ava.’

she’s smiling too big for you to fight it: a laugh bubbles up out of your chest and then mary is laughing too. ‘lilith is gonna have a field day with this,’ she says.

‘i’m gonna print this out as a poster, i think,’ ava tells you, still playing it on loop in the background.

there’s a knock on your hotel room door and when you open it lilith is, indeed, holding out her phone.

‘hi lilith!’ ava says from your screen. ‘looking hot, as always. great and terrifying to see you, please don’t kill me in two days.’

you sigh. lilith leans against the doorframe. ‘ava silva can score when she wants?’

‘okay, you know what i meant.’

‘yeah!’ ava says. ‘i can score! in more ways than one!’

‘goodbye, ava.’

‘bye, love you,’ ava says, still laughing, and you hang up.

lilith just looks at you for a moment and then rolls her eyes, but it’s not cruel. you think, maybe, she might be amused. ‘see you at dinner, beatrice.’

[justletmeplayminecraft]

I have a prompt for the Space Outlaws AU if you're interested: A bunch of Hermits chilling in a room just chatting about stuff, general chaos/shenanigains, or playing board/card games or something :3 Can be any hermits of your choice but I'd love more KC crew and/or Architechs~

it's been a while, but i watched jimmy play switch sports with the squad and got sudden inspiration for this. so enjoy some light-hearted space football shenanigans! the teams are iskall, cub, scar & stress vs grian, mumbo, ren & wels.

the space outlaws au belongs to @martuzzio! you shouldn't need much prior knowledge of the universe to enjoy this ficlet, though.

"Mumbo, get over here!" Grian yells, waving with both arms.

"We need another player to make the sides even, my dude!" Mumbo turns to look at Ren at the same time Grian is grabbing his wrist, dragging him into the holochamber with a skip in his step.

"I mean- not that I'm saying no, of course, but-" Mumbo starts, looking warily around the grey panelled walls. "None of you have actually said what you're doing."

Iskall and Stress are together at the end of the room, speaking more with their hands than their words. Wels and Scar lean on one of the walls, chatting quietly (though Scar does wave as Mumbo enters.) And in the corner of the room, Cub is fiddling with the control panel.

"Cub, you can set it for even sides of four now!" Grian calls across the room. Cub looks up, giving Mumbo a smile and Grian a thumbs up.

"Mumbo!" Iskall perks up at the sight of him. "Are you going to join us to play footie?" It's a bad imitation of Mumbo's accent. Grian snorts, turning away in an attempt to hide it.

"I am not dressed-"

"Aw, Mumbo, please!" Stress pulls his hands up to her chest, brown eyes big and sad. "We've been so excited all day but Falsie had to drop out last minute an' now we're a person short." Mumbo stares at her, stricken.

Grian nudges his shoulder, "C'mon, Mumbo, you don't want to let Stress down do you?" Mumbo splutters, pinned between their hopeful expressions (and not to mention Ren's sad, floppy ears.) He finally sighs, leaning his head back.

"Fine, but don't expect me to be any good!" They cheer, as if Mumbo's fate wasn't sealed the moment he walked through the door.

-

"Iskall!" Stress calls. "I'm open!" Iskall inclines his head, deftly swerving around Grian and launching the ball across the field with a buzz of haptic feedback. She cheers, doing a quick spin away from Ren with the ball underfoot before striking it towards the goal. It's on target, heading straight towards the open panel of fractal lights.

"Mumbo, don't move!" Wels shouts.

"Wha-" Despite Mumbo's raised hands, Wels is able to grip his shoulders, using Mumbo to launch himself upwards and head the ball across the field. Cub is luckily (or unfortunately, if you asked Wels) there to intercept, Stress crying out as she rushes to follow the action.

"Aw, that was such a good shot, though!"

"Not good enough!" Wels calls to her, jogging backwards as Scar dribbles up field.

The once dark room has transformed into an open space. Beyond the walls mimics a spacious plaza, built with bright red bricks and exotic fauna in the planters. The sky outside the façade of a glass building is a bright shade of blue. The deck is climate controlled to match the scenery, keeping them cool despite their activity. Above them, the timer counts down, scores displayed above their goals.

"Ren, you're a dog, you should be better at this!" Grian cries, nearly tripping over his own feet as he sprints across the field.

"That's on you!" Ren calls back, following several indistinguishable noises as Iskall launches the ball over Grian and towards the goal.

"Now you're using my height against me!" Grian protests.

"You're barely shorter than me!"

"Direct all height related frustrations at Mumbo!" Wels shouts, balancing on his toes besides the goal. His eyes don't leave the ball for a moment.

"Wels! We're on the same team!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Cub chants. Stress rolls her eyes and bashes the oncoming ball with her head, hair wildly flying around her.

"Scar!" Iskall yells, just short of reaching it to secure their goal.

"Oh!" Scar spins, and in the nick of time, is able to side kick the ball in a way a leg is definitely not supposed to bend.

"No!" Wels dives, letting out a frustrated noise when it sails straight over his legs. The ball flies into the goal area, the patterned lights filling with colour and shattering.

"That cannot be fair!" Grian gestures at Scar whilst the score ticks up: 2-2.

"I can't help how my legs work, Grian!" Scar calls back, giving a neat little bow. Ren glances up at the paused timer. Thirty seconds. It looks like they'll go into extra time.

"Cub, did you loosen Scar's legs?" Grian asks, pointing accusingly in his direction. Cub shrugs, letting Iskall run past him and take position in the centre of the pitch.

"Not that you can prove."

"Cub!"

The whistle interrupts their argument, the holo-ball dropping into the centre of the pitch. Iskall kicks it to the side before Ren can, landing by the feet of an awaiting Stress. Whooping, she dribbles down field, carefully dodging Grian's tackle. If the ground were actually real grass, she probably could've kicked up some dirt. Ears pointing backwards, Ren sprints to join Mumbo in front of the goal.

"Scar, to you!" She's kicked the ball before she's even finished the sentence. Scar squawks, stumbling over himself. With a bit of a flail, he manages flings the ball forward. It flies straight over Grian's head, who squawks in panic.

"Mumbo!" Mumbo, who had been standing idly on the edge of Grian's peripheral, makes a surprised noise and turns just in time to get nailed in the forehead by the ball.

Mumbo falls to the ground with a ceremonious 'thud'.

"I think we killed him," Wels says, voice flat as he peers over.

"Mumbo!" Grian sprints over, dropping to his knees and skidding the last few inches. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

"Give 'im a bit of space!" Stress tells them, ignoring the ball as she walks over. She crouches by Mumbo's shoulder, her hair falling over his vision. "Hey, love, how are you feeling?" Mumbo groans. His arm dramatically flops over his forehead.

"Like I just got hit in the head by a ball," he replies.

"You know, most people consider that part of the game!" Iskall chimes in. Scar is currently talking quietly to Cub, his gestures small but fast. Which leaves Ren to thump the back of Iskall's head disapprovingly. "Hey!"

Stress ignores him, "Everything put together, though? You got no headache, blurry vision or nothing?" Mumbo shakes his head.

"No, no, just a little caught off guard, I think." He tentatively touches his forehead, poking the red spot the ball left.

"So we'll have to try a bit harder to kill you, then?" Wels jokes. Grian makes an impressive huff, his many eyes turning to glare at him. Stress simply offers a hand to Mumbo, helping get him up onto his feet.

And behind them all, silently, the ball rolls into the goal unnoticed.

Scar does a full body jump as the whistle sounds out, grabbing onto Cub's shoulders. Even Wels jolts a little, head snapping up ready for an attack. But instead, all they see overhead is a bright '3-2'. Right as the clock counts down to zero.

"We won?!" Grian exclaims, looking around in disbelief. "We won!"

"That does not count!" Iskall protests.

"If Scar's leg thing counted then this totally does!" Mumbo stares at them bickering and leans in close to whisper to Stress.

"I'm not too sure it counts myself, really." Stress laughs, clapping his shoulder (well, more of his arm with his outrageous height.)

"Just enjoy your win, you spoon," she tells him. "I'm sure those two won't shut up about it." She points her thumb towards the bickering pair.

"Oh!" Mumbo smiles. Then he remembers what his win actually consisted of and it morphs into a distraught frown. "Oh." Stress giggles, bouncing over to break up their fight. Or make it worse. She'll decide when she gets there.

"I think-" Ren calls, pointedly projecting his voice across the room, "-that we should maybe get some lunch, dudes?"

Wels gasps, "I was supposed to help with lunch today!" He sprints out of the room with only an attempt at a wave. There's a drawn out beat, where they all simply stare at each other, before breaking into laughter.

"I'll shut the deck down and meet you guys there," Cub calls, walking back to the panel. Scar follows, twirling along with a quiet, oh, you need to tighten up my legs again-

"Sorry, I, uh. Did that," Mumbo offers, looking at the floor.

"You won us the game, Mumbo! Why are you apologising?" Grian tilts his head and Mumbo remembers how having all those eyes on him can be a little off-putting at times.

"I, well, you sounded really worried about me and certainly didn't-"

"It's okay!" Grian interrupts before Mumbo really gets into his rambling. He throws his arm around Mumbo's shoulders. "Next time we'll just get you a crash helmet."

"G- Grian!" Grian laughs, ducking under Mumbo's arm and sprinting down the corridor. Mumbo runs after him, yelling all the way. Stress looks to Iskall, a giggle behind her hand.

"Do you think any of them will be alive by the end of the day?" She asks.

Iskall snorts, "Absolutely not."

[cipheramnesia]

"Hey. Uh, is this Maryam?"

"Yes Laika, this is Maryam. How do your repairs progress?"

"Ah, oh. Fine I guess. Are you still up there?"

"We are, as you say, still up here. I hope to be able to make introductions to our higher level officers. It will be easier to accompany your travel."

"They're really okay with like, all this, uh, negotiation I guess?"

"Yes Laika."

"Okay, cool."

"..."

"..."

"Did you wish to discuss other matters?"

"Huh?! Oh, uh. No, just nervous I guess."

"That is understandable. There is some degree of concern amongst my crew as well, considering your record."

"Self defense though."

"I am aware. Would you like us to join you on Stribog?"

"Nope. No thanks. I'll, like, get back to work then. See you around."

"Okay Laika, we will remain at your disposal."

● ● ● ● ●

"So how come you ditched the big furry look?"

"Eh, that lady, Maryam. She asked, I didn't figure it was an issue."

"You haven't gone back to it though. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I mean. Yeah, I guess. I'm clearing my head a little bit since, y'know, we don't need to rush out of here or anything. Sometimes being short is just like, very soothing."

"You're pretty tall for a short werewolf."

"Hah, fuck off, you know what I mean. Um. So, breakfast was good..."

"Right? I was skeptical about boar eyeball scramble, but call me a convert."

"Whuh... Boar what?"

"Oh. So they use every part of the ice boar here. Every part."

"Uh, by every part... Actually, no, don't tell me. I'll just like enjoy the food, and never ask what it is again."

"Probably for the best. We're also going to have real furniture delivered soon. Made from genuine pressed local vegetation, and suede ice boar leather."

"Oh..."

"Sorry, should I not of mentioned what it's made from? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just, like, I haven't had my own bed since I was... uh, in awhile. Just getting cash together for a tube rental or a hopper ticket, I'm... it's pretty good."

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you..."

"It's alright. 'S good."

"Yeah... So we're going to have all the cables and tracks laid soon. Ready to start testing."

"Yeah, I guess so."

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

"This discussion will be more efficient fully utilizing Pilot interface."

"I know, but you know, earth civ stuff. Sometimes we need to be, like, inefficient."

"I am aware, and I have often taken great pains to accomodate this lack of optimization."

"It's kind of interesting laying on the floor, the, uh, the footie control things. Uncomfortable also."

"It is almost as if my floor has not been designed for lying down."

"Yeah... so, uh, ghosts."

"The physical alterations are in place. Framework for electromagnetic construction is also completed. We will need to confirm the ghosts of Luna can conform to our structure."

"Our structure...?"

"When you are engaged as Pilot, our structure is shared, you are allowed to utilize my structure for the purpose of flight, travel, navigation, and other processes which I am no longer able to performer unaided."

"Yeah, I mean I know. What about now?"

"You are not engaged as Pilot."

"Yeah, but I'm here right? Am I, y'know, sharing a structure? Like, does it just, I mean, do I even have a say?"

"I can perceive the complexity and mutability of your structure. I also understand information about your structure in more detail now. The structure of Luna is folded into you, and it is a very elegant design to accomodate your variant complexities. I cannot easily interfere with structures at individual levels without interface, such as used by the Pilot."

"I... was that a yes or a no?"

"We are not able to share structural interface presently, although some of your structure has learned to more easily engage with the Pilot interface."

"And then, do I have any say?"

"It can be accomodated, although our navigation will be less efficient."

"Yeah, I guess. Eh... I'm like..."

"..."

"Luna told me like, not to keep hiding and running. Like I should change and hunt, and something with ghosts I think. You know?"

"Your communication is significantly less coherent than typical. Your meaning is unclear."

"I just want to do something. Really do something. Maybe even like be okay with, whatever, structure exchange or something. I keep thinking of home... never mind."

"This is a line of thought I also experience, as my structure has also learned to accomodate your interface. Perhaps we can find a means by which to bring a needed change to your home."

"Hm. I kinda like that thought? There's a lotta changes back we could implement. Maybe your home too. We can try anyway."

"The implementation may provide some greater benefits."

"I guess, uh. I guess we should see about a test run, huh. I should find something to eat."

"That would be wise. Adequate caloric intake ensures the structural alteration of your physical material is able to proceed without undue stress. It is my preference that you remain in good physical health."

"Thanks GK. I care about you too."

● ● ● ● ●

"Hello Laika, how have you been progressing?"

"Oh wow you- Right. Hi. Well, we're gonna test out all the new stuff. We tested bits and it's pretty good."

"That is very good news. I hope we can still rely on your willingness to discuss the treaty issue with your WMD?"

"Yeah, sure, we'll go. Anyway, uh, just letting you know. Don't freak out or something if you get weird signals."

"I understand. I am looking forward to seeing your vessel under pleasant circumstances soon."

"Okay. Thanks, you too I guess."

"You are welcome Laika."

"Alright. Well, bye. Or see you later."

□ □ □ □ □

Maryam stared distantly through the walls of her quarters in the silence after the call, and worried.

The girl sounded different from the first conversation, not quite hostile but there was a degree less enthusiasm.

She had re-checked the plan to negotiate with Steyr several times, and received the response it would be accomodated.

There was Kan being dealt with as well.

She knit her hands together. Worrying was no use, but she continued to wrack her brain as to whether she could do more. The girl was so young.

No use, she thought. The future would write its own conclusion with or without her input. She would be there to witness it, if nothing else.

Part 6: Warning Labels For The End Of The World

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Parts 1 to 5 are available to read on Ao3!

Deep under miles of blistered, freezing atmosphere strewn with purple gray slurry, the most illegal werewolf in the entire earth civilation rested her muzzle in the crook of her elbow, relaxing in the controled climate of the second most illegal space system ship in most of earth civilization. The uneven floor switches, pyramidal dials, and assorted sensors jabbed Laika through her fur and she mostly ignored them.

She sighed, blowing her fur across her arm. Sy was out in the bay, helping Peng and his extensions run fiberoptics and ductile metals throughout the major damage Genghis Khan had sustained. The major injuries it had sustained, she reminded herself. Damage was something that happened to objects, shells as GK called them. Injuries happened to the living.

"Hey GK," she said, muffled by speaking into her elbow.

"Hello Laika. Would you like me to list productive activities which you could undertake in lieu of your present occupation?"

"Uh. Nah. Just, how are you?"

"My condition has largely remained unchanged since you initially stumbled your way into my airlock. I continue to find the activities of Peng uncomfortable, but not so much that I am unavle to tolerate them. My assessment is that he is performing adequately. I am what you so often would call 'fine.'"

"But does it still, y'know, hurt?"

"There is no impediment caused by the injury, and I am presently fully capable of optimal performance, or as much of it as is feasible with the lackluster availability of fuel."

She looked generally up, because she always imagined GK as 'up' when she was on the bridge. "That sounds like it still hurts."

"In a sense, that may be correct. However, it is negligible to support of Pilot functions."

"So like, what can Pilot do to support your function?"

"Laika, you understand my function, and we have discussed in some great detail that implementation will not be undertaken within earth civilization."

"I meant, how can I help you get better. To heal."

"The present level of assistance is likely the maximum amount which may be accomplished within your civilization. You can, as you say, 'help me get better' most expediently by understanding that I cannot get better. The work of Peng and Sy may help with more efficient utilization of my capabilities. My injuries, however, cannot be corrected. In my creation, such trivialities were and remain unimportant. The injuries will not reduce my capabilities, but they will never heal, as you imagine the concept."

Laika rubbed a hand over the scar on her thigh. "That sounds awful GK."

"It is no worse than the way your flesh grows back together imperfectly, a parody of your true form. I will never seek to recreate what the Pilot created. It is folly and pride to try."

"Hmm," she muttered. "I was thinking about that implementation stuff. Like, I should learn more, more about what you do."

"It will bring me great satisfaction to educate you further on this aspect of my function, and to help you better understand the function of Pilot. However, the presence of the human doctor is needed. I have gained contact with the fae court of the electromagnetic spectrum, and we will require a translator."

"Do you think they'll take Yelena? Can they?"

"If the electromagnetic fae cannot take her, her body will cease its ability to function within approximately three weeks. There is no cause for alarm."

"Huh," she got to her feet and pulled on her envirosuit. "You're sure they'll have her?"

"I am unsure of this, but I am certain that her current condition will come to a swift end regardless."

"I'll go get Sloane then."

[goatmilksoda]

All The Lessons I Never Learned

23. Costumes and Candy

Synopsis: Loki takes Thor out costume shopping and then Thor gets to wear his costume to daycare!

Word count: 1728

Stand Alone?: 1/2

Warnings: no warnings apply

Notes: Aside from an upload schedule change, no notes apply

Read it on AO3!

“Woah…” Thor said as they walked through the grocery store.

That wasn’t exactly accurate-- Loki was walking while Thor was sitting in the cart.

“Hm?”

“‘S a lotta Halloween.” 

“I guess it is.” Loki had gotten so used to it over these past years in America that he couldn’t help but feel as if it were totally normal. 

“Can I trick-or-treat?”

Loki hadn’t really thought about it. “If that’s what you want to do. Do you have a costume?” 

“No. I wanna be a big monsta!” 

“Like a dragon?” 

“No! Something scary!” 

“We’ll look at costumes in a moment. What kind of candy should we get?”

“Mm…” Thor hummed as he thought about it. “Chockate.” 

“The one with Kitkats or the Reeses?” 

“Kvikk Lunsj?”

“So… Kitkats. That’s what they’re called here.” 

“Oh…” 

“Yeah. This one’s a variety pack so you’ll get to try other ones, too.” 

“Okay!” Thor agreed. 

“I’ll let you try some when we get home if you’re really good.” 

That made the little grin. 

“We do need to go downstairs now though, so can you get out of the cart for me?” 

With a little bit of effort and help from Loki’s outstretched arm and stabilization of the cart, Thor was able to get out so they could go downstairs and take a look at the home and clothing section of the store, putting the cart on a track next to the escalator. 

Thor, of course, couldn’t help but try to reach into the cart and found it extremely interesting, and, against his better judgment, Loki let him, and only gave him a little tap on the shoulder to show him that the escalator ride was over. 

“Can I push?” 

“You wanna push it?” 

“Mhm!” 

Thor did push the cart for a second, before trying to step up and ride on it, almost making it tip over, and forcing Loki to weigh down the other end. 

There were lots of interesting decorations in the seasonal section for Thor to look at, but he didn’t seem particularly frightened of any, more just intrigued and curious if anything, even though he almost tossed a “haunted” jack-in-the-box toy on the floor after it surprised him. 

“Okay costumes… costumes…Ah, here we go, costumes for littles.” Loki sorted through the racks while Thor kept trying to perch on the front of the cart. “Brother, come look with me. I’m not shopping for myself.” 

“We should together costume.” 

“Hm?” 

“Like um, match?” 

Loki did give this idea much thought. “...Let’s see what they have first. Oh! Look at this! It’s a monster!” He had pulled out a blue fuzzy costume with horns and googly looking eyes which was definitely a monster, but devoid of being from any one specific brand or property-- extremely generic. “It’s very cute.” 

“I don’ wanna be cute!” Thor argued as he sifted through the princess dresses. 

“You could wear one of those. I’m sure you’d make a lovely princess.” 

“Silly Loki, no! I wanna be scary!” 

“Well that certainly narrows it down…” Loki hummed as he tried to find things that weren’t just “baby pumpkin”, “cartoon character”, or “doctor”. “You could be a pirate. Pirates are quite scary. In fact, we might be able to make you a zombie pirate.” 

Thor seemed quite intrigued by that idea, but quickly found a better idea. “How bout a skeleton?!” he asked, pulling out one that worked like footie pajamas. 

“Ooh, that’s terrifying,” Loki sarcastically commented with a smile as he took it, and checked the size, holding it up to the little, knowing that it could easily be repurposed for everyday sleepwear. 

“Yeah!” Thor laughed. “But Mr. Steve sayed no masks.” 

“That’s fine. I can paint your face for you.”

“Kay!” Thor grinned as Loki set it into the cart. “What about you?” 

“I don’t usually dress up,” Loki admitted. 

Thor frowned. “No, you gotta!” 

“Okay what should I be…?” Loki asked as he looked through the racks. “I’d make a good pirate.”

That made Thor laugh. 

“No? What are you thinking, dear brother?” 

“A kitty!” 

“Hm… No, that's a bit juvenile for me. Perhaps a vampire?” 

“Okay,” Thor agreed, while setting a mysterious third costume into the cart. 

“What’ve you got there?” 

“Mm… Taco.” 

“I thought you were being a skeleton.” 

He shrugged. “Skeleton taco.”

Loki raised an eyebrow before shrugging and setting the vampire costume he was looking at in the cart. 

“Why aren’t you dressed up?” Thor asked the next morning

“Grown-ups only dress up in the evenings.” Loki stated. 

That seemed to make Thor a little sad. 

“I’ll dress up when we go out.” 

“But we’re GONNA go out!” 

“Work has a dress code! It’s not about what you want, child.” 

Thor huffed and crossed his arms. 

“But, if you sit down I’ll put on your facepaint for you.” 

For the next ten minutes or so, Loki painstakingly tried to cover the preschooler’s face in paint, making the black and white illusion of a skull, and making Thor grin. 

“Your makeup’s good.” Thor told him after getting up from sitting on the closed toilet lid. 

“My makeup?” 

“Yeah. It looks good! Scary.” 

Loki looked in the mirror and frowned. He hadn’t put on any makeup yet today. 

Thor’s daycare was absolutely bustling today. Not that there were more littles than usual, but for 8:30 AM, it wasn’t as sleepy as it normally was. Usually it was quiet, with one or two littles getting excited to play a game with their friends, and an equal number crying and throwing fits that they needed to leave their caregivers, but today Loki and Thor found themselves in an incredibly loud and high energy space almost immediately. 

Thor’s eyes widened, but he didn’t seem overwhelmed, happily running in to join the other littles as Loki took note of the sheer amount of care which had gone into decorating the room and making it look nice. It even smelled like pumpkin-flavored frosting. 

“Thor!” Sylvie yelled, running up to the skeleton boy. “Lookit my costume!” she bragged. “I’m a vampire!”

“Loki’s a vampire, too.”

Sylvie looked at the caregiver. “Not a good one.” 

Thor giggled. 

“What’re you sposed to be?” 

“Um... a skeleton taco?” 

“Like with human pieces?!” she asked. 

Thor laughed. “Yeah! For big monsters to eat!” 

That gave Loki a moment to give his brother a big hug. 

“Don’t get eaten okay?” Loki asked. 

Thor nodded as if it were now his mission, and a very serious one he’d have to defend. 

“Okay. Well, I love you very much, and I’ll see you later, alright?”

“See you later!” Thor called after him before excitedly joining his teachers and classmates for circle time. 

Loki ate his lunch, once again, at the round table in the break room, waiting for his usual companion, only for Mobius to finally show up in a full, bright red, race car driver outfit. 

“What are you wearing?” Loki asked, trying to hide his amusement behind his triangularly cut sandwich. 

“Pfft. More like what are you not wearing? Where’s your Halloween spirit, man?” 

“At home waiting to go trick-or-treating with my little brother.”

“Well you did nail the corporate zombie look.”

“Hey!” 

Mobius sat down next to him and opened up his own lunch. “M’ surprised you didn’t put on more of a show.”

“Adults don’t dress up for work.”

“If you got a little you definitely do. Single, littleless, childless, adults don’t dress up for work.” 

“Well there’s no use in berating me for it now! Not like I can make it appear out of thin air.” 

“You’re right. I’m just playing with you, ruffling your feathers, you know… But um, I do have to tell you, Sylvie was wondering if you and Thor wanna come around for some dinner and trick-or-treating. The usual stuff.” 

“Trick-or-treating? In your apartment building?”

“No, I was actually thinking of driving up to Harlem. Those old brownstones give out some good candy and there’s a parade on the way there that Sylvie likes to go watch. Thought maybe Thor would like to come.” 

Loki hummed an acknowledgement. “Yeah, we’d probably be able to make that.”

“I haven’t even given you a time yet.” 

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll be there.” 

“Well I was thinking we could pick you guys up and we could get a fast-food dinner at 6-ish before going to the parade and trick-or-treating?” 

“Yeah, that works,” Loki smiled a little bigger than he probably meant to. “Definitely.”

Sylvie did not cut corners with her Halloween spirit. Thor had thought he didn’t, but that was apparently only by Norwegian standards. Sylvie had only ever known American standards. 

The daycare day wasn’t exactly a typical one. Not that the littles ever really sat down and had formal lessons, as they were kept to a play-based, preschool standard, but today was still somehow even more game and craft focused than usual, with a shortened circle time that focused mostly on “The Itsy Bitsy Spider”, the standard nap time, and “fall festival” stations set up throughout the classroom with face painting, fall crafts, not-so-fall-themed-crafts and carnival games where littles could earn fruit snacks, raisins, or small bags of chips because, as Mr. Sam had put it, they’d be getting enough candy later that day. 

Sylvie had argued that there was no such thing as “enough” candy. She also made a large effort to pull “pranks” on her classmates which ended up being… in line with her mental age of four years old today: “See? I gave you the blue marker, but you asked for the red!” and cue giggles. She also made a lot of fart noises. When she found some plastic bugs, she did her best to scatter them, with Thor’s help, around the classroom-- in the adults’ kitchen space, in the bathroom, on bookshelves, everywhere they could. 

Sylvie had also tried to play the “repeating everything someone says” game but ended up getting put in time-out for it. 

Even with that small setback, the day was nothing short of wonderful. 

They did pumpkin collages with ripped construction paper and read a story about “Spookley the Square Pumpkin” which led to a geometry activity, and Bingo with dot pens. It was all delightful, and before Thor knew it, Loki was walking in through the door to come pick him up and take him on the train to go home.

[mid-weast]

Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Wed 7 Apr ‘21

Louis left Tulum and went to Mexico City, and we got airport pics from both ends: the gathered fans were told by his bodyguard that they should keep their distance but that yes, pictures would be allowed. Thank you Louis! We got to see him a little for the first time in so long, in videos of him walking by (and getting ready to walk by) and blurry pics of him with his guitar, and Oli and Charlie- I’m excited to someday see the footage of whatever they’re working on. But for now, finally some proper pictures of the long long hair, or at least the below the hat part, all flippy and like...LONG! It’s on his SHOULDERS! Early pics had some interesting shadows around an elbow, prompting a flurry of NeW TaTtoO?? excitement, but when more pics were posted we could see that no, his elbow remains the same, false alarm. Once that tattoo kerfuffle died down the interest refocused on his shirt, which featured- a whole damn pile of skulls!

Louis went through a long phase of wearing skull shirts a while back, and the fact that it was during a period of a lot of very pointed t-shirt messages (and that he kept doing it more than ever despite knowing what we were reading into it) seemed to reinforce the theory that he did in fact mean things by it, and seeing him say yes to fan photos while wearing this shirt for the occasion… well! WELCOME BACK public Louis, we MISSED YOU! Yesterday’s shirt was for the band Obituary- is the band name a nod at the fact that Syco, generally considered to be the main target of previous skull shirts, is now dead and gone (rest in pieces assholes:))? Is Louis drawing attention to the livestream that band did a few days ago for their album ‘The End Complete’, and if so, is that also about Syco or about… something else? Inconclusive, but if we were meant to find their song “End It Now”, that can truly only be about one thing!! Am I to believe that SBB himself, Mr “I like to draw the fans’ attention to the lyrics of things” just, whoopsy, missed that! I mean, you would think every band on earth has lyrics about “ending it“ with the number of times he’s made that mistake, damn… he just never learns. Poor Louis, gosh how embarrassing! Lol. Anyway, I’ve seen people wondering lately what will happen when all the fans that have joined us in this time of lockdown and of no real contact with Louis will react when their version of Louis has to compete with the real one- and him barely being back at all but immediately reminding people that he is not a dad FFS feels like an excellent beginning, this should be good! BUCKLE IN friends! The real Louis is sooo much more fun than the boring made up one, just get ready to enjoy the chaotic energy and trying to keep up with him….

Oh also Louis liked a Snuts tweet about being underdogs as they fight to get the release week UK #1 for their new album, and a charity says they reached out to Louis AND LOTTIE to play in their celeb footie match PLEASE, HOW CUTE WOULD THAT BE? Come on Tomlinsons, say yes!

Liam has a big interview in Glamour to promote his BAFTAS performance! If *I* were doing the piece I would have really gone hard on the Two Liams angle of the performance (in which Liam will be accompanied by a hologram of himself) but alas they are boring and only interviewed one of him- maybe the part where he says “you're on stage, you're a certain type of person, and at home you're a certain type of person” sort of counts? The “that's always something I've really struggled with” makes it not so fun though, but that’s a Liam interview for ya; worrisome and makes you want to hug him a lot. “I didn't actually realize this for a long time, but I often give a little bit too much away,“ he says, and today is no exception. We catch up on the time since last we heard from him, when he told us he was going to take some well-earned time off and try to focus on writing new music; he continues to have difficulty with downtime unfortunately. Oh Liam, I do wish it were easier for you to take a break! He says, “I stopped working and I had a full, proper month off [and that was] really hard. And it was all a bit dark for me for a little bit... not being able to go anywhere, not being able to do anything. It really, really hit home. And I just found myself sat in the same place day in, day out. And I was like, okay, I really do not know what to do with myself” and “for me, learning to relax has always been quite a hard thing to do because I feel like if I'm not moving forward, then I must be going backwards.” He goes on to say “so, in a way it's kind of a blessing in disguise, as this has all kind of taught me to relax a little bit more. And to not be so worried about that, like the world is not going to fall over if I don't do something today,” and I wish I believed him, but that’s Liam’s way, to be like oh I need to add something upbeat and end on a cheerful note! So IDK. He also talks about drinking too much, at the beginning of lockdown especially, and how he’s dealt with it by getting back to working out and dieting. There’s nothing there that he hasn’t talked about before (he’s publicly addressed both his struggles with alcohol dependency and has talked a lot about his disordered eating though he hasn’t himself named it that) but after publication Glamour edited the piece to omit the part about his drinking-- I’m guessing the augmented reality app people didn’t feel it fit their ideal image (sigh). What that leaves is him saying how nice it was to be able to eat what he wanted during lockdown but that having the boundaries and rules in place of restricting his food again has made him feel better about himself, which if you ask me is still plenty distressing. Oh Liam :( <I’ve never wanted to hug someone so bad/ Spongebob meme> On a slightly more cheerful note, he tells us he feels supported and heard by a manager that he’s close to, and by Louis, and that those relationships are good for him (the interviewer does ask about Bear, but financee Maya is not mentioned even once in this article). The piece ends with a startling response to a comment about his upcoming performance: “I'll see you wherever you want me in your house, I guess.”

Niall posted about his Masters (golf) fantasy league and he was seen out and about! He was photographed in London driving a car the size of a house and on the street carrying one of his dozens of different reusable water bottles, with his hair floppy and down- is it a new haircut or just unstyled??- and shorts and little roundish shades. Hello Neil! There was a rumored sighting of Harry in London as well but no pics and like we know he’s there anyway so… shrug. And iHeart award nominations are up, and they’re pitting louies against harries, ouch. Will it be nasty (well when isn’t it even without this voted category, sigh), or will the louies simply steamroller everyone as per usual? Only time will tell, but if so harries can console themselves with their likely wins in the Male Artist of the Year, Best Lyrics (Adore You), and Song of the Year (WS) categories.

[sky-berrie]

Goodnight - Damian

Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.

It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.

You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.

“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.

“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.

“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.

“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.

Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”

You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”

Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.

His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.

“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.

You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.

Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”

“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.

“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”

“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.

“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.

“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.

“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.

“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.

You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.

“Good night,” said Damian.

“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.

Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.

“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.

“Um, come again?”

“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”

“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.

Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”

“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.

Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.

You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.

You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.

Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.

“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”

You shifted infinitesimally closer.

“Closer,” instructed Damian.

You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.

“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.

You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Damian let out a hearty laugh.

“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.

“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.

This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.

“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”

You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.

“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.

You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.

Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”

“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”

Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”

You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”

You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.

“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”

“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”

“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”

You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”

Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.

Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”