#it's funny but like. okay how do i consume all this all at once

[remorner]

it's hard getting into multiple things at the same time because holy shit what should i go for first

[woso-dreamzzz]

Bike

Magdalena Eriksson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first riding lesson with Magda

After that day on the ice with Sam and the others, Magda decides that if anyone is going to teach you to ride a bike, it's going to be her.

The first thing she does is make sure the stabilisers are attached properly, sitting down in the middle of the park with a screwdriver to make sure they're secure.

Then, she tightens your elbow and knee pads.

Next, she makes sure your helmet fits you properly.

Then and only then, are you allowed on your bike.

"I know how to ride, Morsa," You tell her as she shows you where the peddles are," Sam and Erin and Guro and Millie taught me."

Magda scoffs. "They didn't teach you. They took advantage of a hill. Riding a bike is all about power in your legs."

You rolls your eyes. "This is boring."

"I'm trying to teach you here!"

You move your handlebars, a disgruntled look on your face as Magda waffles on about random things that you don't really care about.

It's quite early in the morning, on a random day off where you'd rather crawl into the Big Bed and have cuddles with Momma. You think Momma must miss your cuddles because she was still asleep when Morsa got you up and out of the house.

It wasn't a long walk to the park but Morsa didn't say anything until you got there.

"Can I got yet?"

Magda sighs, breaking off mid sentence. "Yeah, alright. Let me give you a little push."

She holds the back of your bike, lightly pushing you so you can start pedalling.

You've got a lot of power in your little legs, despite having only been out on your bike once before and Magda still holds it, if only to give herself some peace of mind.

"Morsa! I'm doing it!"

"Yes, you are!"

Magda doesn't really want to let go but she can remember being a bit older than you, at her own local park in Sweden. Her father had taught her to ride.

It was an old bike, bought second-hand at a car boot sale. The chain was half broken and the pedals stuck a bit but Magda had loved that bike.

Her father had taught her, standing behind her and giving a little push. He held her bike for a bit before finally letting her go.

At the time, the lack of stabilisers hadn't bothered Magda. It had made her feel grown up but, now, as a parent herself, she can't imagine your bike not having stabilisers.

She also can't believe that her father had ever let her go.

Especially now as she rocks your body as you sob.

The first little crash had been expected, your front wheel getting caught on a bump in the road. Magda had managed to grab you by the back of the shirt before you went head over handlebars.

If anything, you thought that crash was a little funny, consumed by a round of giggles as Magda tried to calm her beating heart.

The second crash was bigger, where you'd gotten too much speed and you went through that same pit in the path and gone skittering across the path.

It was a mistake, in hindsight, to let you go out riding in your Sweden shorts because the impact of your slide has horrifically grazed your leg like some horrific version of road rash.

"Morsa, my leg!" You sob and Magda adjusts you.

There's no chance of you walking right now so Magda switches you onto her back, letting you link your hands together around her neck. Magda wheels your bike back home.

"It's okay," She says," It's alright. We're nearly home. We'll clean it off and get you some plasters."

"My bike's mean," You tell her," Don't let go next time, Morsa."

"You still want to practice?"

"Yes, Morsa," You say and Magda can imagine the eye roll going on behind her back," Because I have to learn at some point and Momma will get annoyed with having me on the back of hers forever."

Whenever you, Magda and Pernille go out for a bike ride, you get put into a little seat that's attached to the end of Pernille's. It's fun but what you really want is to be on your own bike next to them.

You sniffle though, a flare of pain going down your leg as Morsa moves.

Magda places you on the sofa as soon as you get home, grabbing the first aid kit so she can clean off your graze.

"We will wait though, right?" You ask, wincing as Magda wipes off all the dirt," Until I'm better?"

"Of course," Magda says," I think we should stay at home for a bit and we can remember where the brakes are."

You purse your lips. "I know where the brakes are, Morsa."

Magda smiles at you. "Do you? Because you really should learn to use them."

You stick your tongue out at her. "I'm telling Momma you're teasing me again!"

[adventuringblind]

The Thrill of It (1.8K Words)

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: Street Racer AU, Smut

Summary: Sometimes the boys come back from races a little riled up, it doesn't help tonight that they get a bit possessive when someone lays a hand on what's theirs.

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, public sex, exhibitionist Lando, Sub reader, Dom Oscar, Oral, face-fucking, Hair pulling (?), minor degradation, Oscar being stressed after because AFTERCARE IS IMPORTANT OKAY

Notes: I'm back! Did you miss me? I think this is the most lewd smut I've ever done... But reminder that comments and filling my inbox with nice things motivates me to write!!

Side Note: MINORS AVERT YOUR EYES!! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD!!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The lights amongst the crowd flitted about in shades of neon. The people are rowdy tonight on the sides of the street. All of them handing off their cash to each other to bet on which driver they think will win. 

It’s a dangerous game with no medic on scene. She supposes that’s the thrill of it. Knowing there may be no return once they put their foot on the pedal.

Lando and Oscar are practically swimming in the cash now. While she isn’t in the spotlight, they certainly are. These are their streets. They know Woking like the back of their hands now. 

Lando says he drives by feeling where Oscar has a map of the turns memorized. It speaks volumes about their character.  

You’d think these idiots would stop betting so much on other drivers. She’s been here enough times to know they never learn. Always lured into a false sense of hope. She doesn’t mind it, simply finds it funny. 

She finds herself entranced by the sounds of the engines, the people chanting their names. She sees other people oggle the two, hands becoming a bit more than friendly as the night progresses and alcohol is consumed.

A car pulls below her hiding spot. The second car driven, a truck she can sit in the bed of when things get overwhelming and the people too much. 

Those friendly hands tend to slip when they see a pretty stranger. Boundary lines are crossed. Another thing they should know by now: Oscar and Lando are the kings of these streets and it’s best not to mess with their queen. 

The bed of the truck shakes as they climb in with her. Their faces are half hidden in the dark. The other is illuminated by intermittent flashing lights. 

 Lando looks all too happy about the stunt he just pulled. A dangerous thing that could have killed him if not done right. The adrenaline has his pupils dilated. “Don’t think he’ll be coming back again. Gave him a run for his money… Liturgy!” 

“Literally-” 

“Yes, that’s what I meant - Literally!” 

She tilts her head back and laughs. Drunk off the atmosphere of the night and maybe the fumes of whatever people have been smoking all night. “Scared him off then?” 

“You know it baby!” Lando latches right onto her exposed neck with his teeth for all of two seconds before Oscar is dragging him off. It leaves them both whining. “Osc! I��m doing things!” 

“You’re doing our things.” The dehumanizing language should not have her this hot and bothered, in Woking, in October. She’s wearing a skirt with nothing aside from panties underneath and one of Oscar’s zip-ups with a tank top. Not the best choice of clothing all things considered, but she could care less. Not when it gives them easy access when they are all riled up like this.

Oscar drags her into his lap. The feeling of strong thighs underneath her in almost the right spot has her whimpering. “Didn’t realize you’re already so needy for us darling. Forgot how much seeing us drive turns you on.” 

She nearly cries when Oscar pulls her underwear to the side and slips a finger through her slit. “Look at this Lan! She’s a mess already!” Oscar’s free hand grips Lando by the collar and pulls him closer; nearly choking him out in the process. When his fingers are pulling obscene sounds from her, he brings them away. Up towards Lando’s mouth which unlatches to suck on them eagerly. 

The Brits eyes roll back as Oscar jams four fingers down the back of his throat just for the sake of it. “S’pose you’ve earned it tonight, Lan. You’re already a mess anyhow and I think you’ve been leaking since you got out of the car.” 

Lando mumbles something around Oscar’s fingers. It’s unintelligible - or she’s too lost in her haze to comprehend anything. Having slotted down on Oscar’s thigh to get some kind of friction. 

The sound of Lando’s belt buckle coming undone becomes louder than the engines. Then the wet sound of lips clashing together. The hand Oscar previously had in Lando’s mouth is now around his neck. 

The same story time and time again. Lando goes by feel where Oscar exudes superiority in how he has them memorized. 

She clocks the hand on her waist moving to the back of her head. Oscar switches to kiss her instead. The filthy kind - all tongue and teeth. It keeps her occupied long enough for Lando to shimmy his boxers just far enough down. 

“I knew you were leaking.” Lando makes a weak noise at that. Oscar’s words seem to have that effect on him. Both of them - really. “I bet you like showing off for all these people, huh? The possibility of us being caught like this. You get off on the thrill.”

The boys help her reposition her boy. Oscar gets two of his fingers in her, hovering just above Lando’s cock. Which - to Oscar’s credit - He’s not wrong. Lando is leaking like a faucet that has a consistent drip. It is mesmerizing and should be illegal. 

Oscar gets a third in her, dutifully stretching her open despite having to support her weight. Lando thrusts into the air out of impatience which earns a lovely smack to the side of his ass. “You should know better, Love, that all good things come with time.”

She feels empty for all of two seconds before her body is plunging down onto Lando’s cock. She can feel him twitching behind her - trying to remain still until given the go-ahead to move. His hands paw at the slope of her back and curve of her ass. 

In front of her, Oscar is undoing his own belt. She should’ve realized sooner how he had positioned them. How the truck bed is conveniently long enough to let Lando work out his residual energy by thrusting into her while Oscar makes use of her mouth. 

He’s always three moves ahead of them. 

She leans down, ready for him without him even having to ask. “Spit,” He commands. She does it without hesitation. 

Oscar makes use of the makeshift lube and gives himself a few strokes before motioning her forward. She unhinges her jaw and relaxes her throat and still - she gags. 

“See Lando, patience works wonders.” 

“Please Osc, please - I’m dying over here-” 

“Go ahead baby, you’ve earned it.” Oscar chuckles. 

They find a rhythm. When one is going in, the other is going out. She’s drooling all down the exposed skin Oscar is showing. 

“Best. Fucking. Reward. Ever~” Lando punctuates each word with a particularly hard thrust. The sounds are ridiculous and they are lucky that the sound of engines revving is drowning them out. If anyone is watching - well - they are certainly getting a show. 

Oscar’s voice cracks. “Fucking hell, you two look so good.” She concludes the walls of his resolve are starting to crumble. That the grip she has on his waist to ground herself is enough to make him snap and throw him over the edge. 

“You like the show, Osc.” 

“You could say that.” 

Lando likes to be seen and Oscar likes to watch. She likes everything in-between that. To be the object of their affections and an element of desire. Something they covet enough to lose themselves like this. 

Everything gets messier - if that was even possible. Oscar snaps his head back and grips the back of her head so he can hold her stead and fuck her throat. Lando grips her hips and sets an unrelenting pace. Each movement is sloppier than the last. Each moan is more pitched. 

She swallows. Her throat constricts enough for Oscar to growl from somewhere deep and sum without any warning. The tears are streaming down her face as she gags on the new and sudden change of consistency. 

He drags her off and gives her no time to recover. Simply lunging forward and nearly sending her crashing backwards onto Lando. His hand goes back to the Brits throat while his tongue goes so deep into her mouth that there is no way he can’t taste himself. 

Lando is a mess of high pitched whines. “Please - please I’m close-” 

She inhales desperately as Oscar unlatches from her mouth only to find the sensitive spot on her exposed collarbone. “Osc-” 

“I could keep you two like this forever. Desperate and whiny. Leaking with the thought of how good it would feel to cum.” They are both letting out desperate sounds. “I bet that guy from earlier would have stayed away then. So consumed by us that he could smell it on you.” 

“Yesyesyes - please-” She’s going to lose her mind. Lando might be closer than she is and yet he won’t slow down. There is nothing but this until Oscar tells them yes. Because it feels better waiting for it. 

And Lando will always go by feel.

“You’ve earned it Lando, fill our girl up yeah? Make her cry harder.” 

Oscar has to cover her mouth as everything goes white. Her ears are ringing - swimming in the sounds of their voices and nothing else. It’s white hot blissful nothing. No thoughts or anxieties, no worries about some guy making passes at her. 

Here she knows the two men who want nothing but to see her smile and cry for their cocks. Which is a stark contrast considering - but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Oscar recovers the quickest. Swiftly jumping out of the truck bed to grab their extra blanket and hoodies. “I can’t really clean you two up yet, but will this do for now?” He shifts his weight between feet. Normally more prepared, ready to meet the needs of physical pains and emotional needs that come with the aftermath. 

They both nod and excitedly wait for him to climb back up. “That… was amazing,” she laughs. Her voice broken and hoarse from her throat being used. 

Oscar winces. “I need to get you some water.” 

“Osc-”

“Yeah.” 

“Relax! It felt good! It was great and we’re okay.” Lando gestures to the two who can barely move. Bodies still twitching from the overwhelming sensations. “Now we shall bask in the glory that is the ridiculous amount of cash we made tonight!”

“What are you gonna spend it on?” 

“You, of course!” Oscar leans her into his side as Lando throws an arm around her shoulders for good measure. 

Cars begin to drive past. Leaving for the night either to wherever they are staying or another race. They wave off some of the familiar faces and flip off the annoying ones. Yeah - she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[leilanihours]

🗝️ prompt 19 with paige?

# YOU'RE SUCH A DREAM TO ME

pairing: paige bueckers x drunk!reader

word count: 847

warnings: none !

prompt: "i dreamed of you"

⭑ from lani: i kinda hate this i'm not good at writing drunk ppl LMAO

celly masterlist !

main masterlist !

YOU DOUBLED OVER laughing as you were practically dragged into your apartment by your girlfriend, "you're so funny, paige, holy shit!"

"baby, all i said was 'take off your shoes,' how is that funny?" she asks with a smile.

instead of responding with words you simply continue to die of laughter while paige tries to get you to sit down on the couch.

you didn't know it, but you were absolutely wasted. you had a few too many drinks at ice's birthday celebration and were now experiencing the effects of the various strong liquors you had consumed.

paige offered to be the designated driver so that you could relax and have fun. the two of you had been in this situation a few times before - where you were so drunk that you couldn't walk in a straight line and paige was basically your caretaker.

she knew that this was only the first stage of your drunken state: undying laughter. you would laugh and giggle at every little thing - nothing but a smile on your flushed face.

paige had already set you down on the couch and taken off your shoes, and she was now filling up a glass of water for you to drink.

"paigeyyy," you call out to no particular location, "where'd you goooo?"

your girlfriend winces as your voice echoes loudly throughout your apartment, remembering that you had little to no volume awareness when you were drunk.

"i'm right here, ma, don't worry," she says gently as she hands you the glass of water, "can you drink some of this for me?"

"mhm," you mumble, taking long sips of the cold water you didn't even know you needed, "thanks, p."

"you don't gotta thank me, y/n, it's just water," she shrugs with a small smile.

"i know but you're just such a good girlfriend to me," you slur, eyes randomly beginning to feel heavy, "i feel so bad that you have to take care of me like this, m'sorry, paigey."

paige looks into your eyes and notices tears beginning to fill your waterline, concern immediately overcoming her.

"hey, hey, hey, it's okay, baby," she says gently as she begins to caress your face and hair, "please don't cry, y/n, i love taking care of you."

"no you don't," you shake your head dramatically, "i'm just a nuisance that's keeping you from going to sleep."

at this point, tears had slowly begun streaming down your face as the blonde wipes them away with her thumbs.

"please stop crying, baby, you're perfect, you're not keeping me from doing anything," she explains, her eyes bever leaving yours, "i'm doing this because i love you."

"you love me?" you sniffle.

"so much."

"aw thank you, paige, i love you too," you whisper in her ear as if it were a big secret.

when you don't lift your head from its place in paige's neck, she assumes that you've fallen asleep on her shoulder. she chuckles at how quickly your mood has changed within the past ten minutes.

"how 'bout we get you ready for bed, yeah?" she asks quietly, rubbing circles over your back.

"mmm," is all you say in response.

"c'mon, up we go," she says as she lifts the both of you from the couch, placing one of your arms around her shoulders.

she guides you into your shared bedroom and lays you down on your bed, smiling down at your state.

as if there were a written routine, paige goes into your bathroom and grabs your makeup wipes, then into your closet to grab you a pair of pajamas.

"can you sit up real quick, baby?" she asks softly, tugging on your arms.

once she has you in an upright position at the foot of the bed, she begins to strip you out of your outfit from the party and slips you into your some sweatpants and a hoodie.

as she gently wipes off the makeup on your face, a smile creeps onto your face despite your eyes still being closed.

"you're not real," you mumble inaudibly.

"what was that, ma?" paige asks, throwing away the dirty wipes.

"you're not real," you repeat.

"i'm not?" paige chuckles.

"nope."

"why is that?" she asks as she pulls you up to the head of the bed, tucking you in before changing into her own pajamas.

"because you're just so perfect, so sweet to me," you explain, "i swear i've dreamed of someone like you, no- i've dreamed of you. just you."

"you make it easy to be sweet to you," she whispers, placing a kiss to your temple as she gets into bed next to you.

you immediately shift your position so that your head was resting on the blonde's chest and your arm was draped over her stomach.

paige wraps an arm around you, holding you tighter to her with no intent of letting go.

"love you so much, paige," you whisper before ultimately falling into a deep sleep.

"love you so much more, y/n," paige says into your hair before also drifting to sleep.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Big News

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey!” You bounce up to the table. It’s funny how Bucky can look so intent. So gloomy in the midst of the bustling cafe. He sits up as he puts his phone down on the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got great news!” 

“Oh?” His brows lower, “well, you’re double sugar frappa-whatever is melting.” 

He points across the table as you sit and roll your eyes. 

“If you tried it, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. They are delicious!” You put your purse in your lap and take a long slurp through the straw. You pop your lips off and let out and ‘ahhhhh’. You smile at him as he gives you that look. 

“I don’t take sugar in my coffee and you barely take coffee in your sugar,” he drones. 

You giggle. He's always so grumpy about the smallest things. 

“News?” He prompts dully. 

“Right,” you wiggle in your seat. “I got you a date!” 

He twitches and tilts his head, “a date?” He gives you a cautious look and shifts in his seat. “Uh...” 

“Yes! This lawyer lady I know. I met her at a trivia night way back and added her on Insta. Well, I saw her post the other day and I was like how did I not think of this before?” 

“Lawyer?” He mutters. “I... you’re setting me up with a stranger?” 

“It’s a blind date. It’s fun. She’s really established and smart and beautiful. Oh my god, she posted this picture of her in a bikini—I could never wear something like that.” You get your phone out and he sighs. 

“Wait, why did you do that?” He grits. 

You look above the screen at him, “well, you said the other day that you get lonely. That’s why you have Alpine, right? And she’s so sweeeeet,” you drag out the word in adoration, “but you need someone you can talk to. Who can talk back.” 

“We talk,” he insists. 

“Yes, but we’re friends. You need someone your own age. Or closer to.” 

“Wait, how old is she?” He wonders. 

“Aha, you’re interested,” you point at him accusatorily. 

“I’m asking questions.” 

“Right, she’s... fifty something? She doesn’t look it. Like you. You don’t look... uh... 1917... carry the one...”  

“Stop that,” he demands. “I know how goddamn old I am.” 

“Ha, yeah, sorry, I...” you scroll through your Insta friends. “Here!” You turn the phone to him and beam a smile in his direction. He glances at it for a split second and shrugs. He sits back and drinks his coffee.

“I’m not really... in that scene,” he says. 

“You should get out there! I mean, you can’t bring Sam and Steve to dinner all the time. You need someone--” 

“Is this what it’s about? Because I showed up at the restaurant?” He asks. 

“No, it’s-- I’m being a friend. You two are so alike and she loves old movies and motorcycles. I could never! I'd fall off or not tie my helmet right,” you chuckle. 

“Dreamy,” he growls. 

“Bucky,” you whine back. “You gotta get out and have some fun.” 

“We have fun,” he counters. 

“We do and that’s awesome—Oh, okay, how about, I got an idea! A double date.” 

“A double—you have... a boyfriend?” He taps the porcelain cup with his metal fingertip. 

“Ha, no way. But I could find someone to come along. Just so you’re not alone. There’s a few guys at the restaurant I’m sure would go for a free meal or I mean I know other cute girls. I’m not picky.” 

He closes his eyes and a line forms between his brows. He pinches his nose and squares his shoulders. “Where the hell did you come up with the idea that I wanted to date?” 

“I...” you sit back and your smile falls. His blue eyes flick open as he drops his hand. The dimple in his cheek ticks. “I’m sorry, I thought it was—I was... trying to be a good friend.” 

He stares at you and the stone slowly eases from his jaw. He looks down and back up. He huffs. 

“I’m sorry, dreamy,” he says, “it’s just been a while for me. Not that I haven’t thought of it, you know? But I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head and glances around the cafe. “The last time I dance with a dame was a goddamn USO tour in 1945.” 

That hits you like a sixteen-wheeler. You didn’t know that. You didn’t think of it. He’s been in this world for a while and he’s handsome and a superhero! You just though he’d have lots of people interested. Charlize sure seemed excited when you asked. 

“And now you’re looking at me like I’m a loser because I haven’t kissed a gal in 80 years--” 

“No, you’re not a loser. If you are, then I am.” 

“Come on, you don’t gotta--” 

“Really. I never kissed anyone. Not lying.” 

He shakes his head and scoffs, “oh no, you’re not lying to make me feel better.” 

You put on your most sober face, “Bucky, I swear,” your cheeks burn and you put your hands on your neck. “I mean... it would be nice I’m sure but it just never came up.” He looks at you quietly. You squirm. “I know you can hear that I’m telling the truth.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he accepts at last. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, “fine. If you’re going to suffer through it, I will too.” He looks away as his jaw tenses, “if you’re going to keep pulling that puppy dog face, one day, it’s gonna wear off.” 

“Yes! Bucky’s got a date! Bucky’s got a date!” You sing out of tune. 

“Stop,” he snarls and narrows his eyes at you. You wince and giggle.  

“Yay!” You put your hands up in a demure celebration and he tuts. 

“You’re so cheesy,” he sneers. 

“And you’re a party pooper. No moping on date night, got it?” You try to put on a stern face and he squints even harder. Finally, he cracks and gives a chuckle. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he sniffs. “You and tough, don’t go together.” 

[chillinglyadventurous]

One More - Stanford Pines

Your lips barely brushed against his as you whispered, “One more.”

Tags: Fluff

The soft glow emanating from Ford’s desk lamp bathed the room is a warm glow that cast long shadows onto the wall that flickered with each movement. His fingers had brushed against your own as you stood side by side , pouring over ancient texts and scattered notes. The concentration that I consumed him had now slipped.And his lips moved against yours in a deliberate kiss, the intensity of his research momentarily forgotten. His hands pressed firmly against your waist, but just as quickly as his kiss deepened, you sensed his hesitation.

“I need to get back to work,” He murmured against your skin. He's going to stick with reluctance. “I'm sorry, dear.”

If you didn't want to let him go, not just yet. With the soft side, you lean towards him. Your lips barely brushed against his as you whispered, “One more.”

Those two simple words hung it in the air like smoke. Your eyes are full of longingAnd his resolve wavered.Your breath hit in your throat as his eyes met yours and, for a moment, everything else fell away. It was just the two of you all alone in that room.There were no notes. There were no anomalies. It was just you and Stanford.

Ford close the distance between the two of you. His lunch captured yours and another test. This one was deeper and more urgent than the last had been. It was as if he was trying to make this one count before his world, those anomalies,Interrupted a peaceful moment once again.He didn't want to let you go either. 

As his lips moved against yours, you could feel the tension and him begin to rise. He always had this internal struggle. He couldn't decide which to choose, you or his godforsaken research.It wasn't often that he let his work go like this even if it was just for a brief, wonderful moment. It was hard for him to tear himself away, but there he was, captivated by you and the softness of your lips, The softness of your kiss.

His lips lingered against yours, but you could sense the resistance returning. Even asYou melted together you could sense his focus shifting back to everything on the table behind him. There were so many unanswered questions. There were so many different things to explore. There are so many questions left unanswered.

Stanford was always driven and you knew that he wouldn't let you sway his attention for too long no matter how much he cared for you. He had his passion for discovery. That had been what drew you to him after all.Now, however, a small part of you resented everything that he had devoted his life to. 

Reluctantly, Ford broke the kiss once more. However, both of his hands still rested on the small of your back, holding you as close as he possibly could. He rested his forehead against your own and his own breath dusted across your skin. His voice was soft immigrants was he spoke, “You making it very hard to concentrate. Do you know that?”

“And that's the point.” 

Your words are breathless as you teased him. Though, there was no malice in your words. You understood him.You understood his need to constantly be working towards something greater, but you also understood that even someone as brilliant as him needed these moments. He needed to escape every once in a while. He needed closeness and tenderness. 

Stanford pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was soft and full of absolute affection. “One more.” And his words echoed your words like a prayer. This time, however, it wasn't a request. It was a promise. His lips found yours again and a final kiss. Slow and lingering.It was like he was committing the feel of you and your lips to memory.

Funny finally pulled away again, his eyes linger on your face for just a moment longer, appreciation in them. With a deep breath, he gently stepped back. The scholar in him was taking over once more. “Thank you, but,” his voice was filled with regret as he held you closer, “I really need to-”

“It’s okay,” you nodded, the understanding between the two of you left unspoken. “You know where to find me when you’re done.”

As you pulled away and turned around to walk back up the stairs, you glanced over your shoulder at him one more time. He was already turned back to his desk and the pages, the notes, pulled him back in. You watched for a moment, a small smile playing on your lips. Even though he was lost in his research, there is always something about him that made you two feel so connected. In the quietest moments, you knew he would always find you. For now however, this was enough. What you had now was enough. 

[aangelinakii]

CAT SCRATCH.

— nothing but a flesh wound.

summary : you're stitching up your best friend. just for continuity sakes', i'll repeat that you're best friends.

note : part three in the "cats and dogs" series that no one asked for but everyone seems to be enjoyîg !!! really trying to keep with the animal theme 😭😭

this wasn't the first time jason had sat before you, shirt and jacket and guns discarded to the side. but, god, it's not what you think!

his torso was bare, but battered up, and you could care less about the view; today, you were playing doctor, preparing to perform surgery (put a plaster) on some very fatal wounds (a few bleeding cuts).

"you're really stupid, you know that?" you scoffed at him as you rummaged around on the sterile metal tray beside you for the correct equipment. "like, really, there was no need for you to run in the way of gunfire."

from further above, from his perch upon the medical bed in the batcave's infirmary, jason shook his head, sighing. "there was a cat in the road." he spoke as if it were a passage of the bible — thou shalt not allow the death of a felin upon thy hands.

dousing a cotton ball in antiseptic fluid, you gave an obvious roll of your eyes. "so you decided to risk you life?" tucking your swivel chair further between jason's legs, you gave a sigh, this time more playful, a smile upon your lips. "what am i going to do with you?" and you caught his eye, your smile contageous.

"probably what you always do," jason chirped back, looking down at you in a way that helped him ignore the throb of shrapnel embedded in his skin. he'd only been nicked a few times, luckily.

"and what's that?" you hummed in return, leaning into his torso to dab at a raging entry wound just missing his abdomen. his skin tensed beneath your touch, but he willed himself to relax. it was you, after all. you could never hurt him, even if you shoved him to the ground and kicked dirt in his eyes.

one of his hands absently came up to your ear, rough fingertips carefully tracing the soft skin of the shell. casual intimacy wasn't unheard of between you, so much so that you were constantly accused of dating, being so bad at hiding it this whole time that it was a miracle neither of you had been sent to jail for lying so poorly to a police officer at least once; that you both have done many-a-times.

the words brushed past his cracked lips like a prayer, but their effect on you was unobvious.

"forgive me."

and, that, you always did.

regardless of how true it was or wasn't, you sent him a glare that failed to meet your lips — a smile upon them, instead — as you moved further up to disinfect a wound just beneath one of his pecs, which were already scarred up and burned.

a comfortable silence consumed the air between you, with your attention focused on picking up the blood from his wound with a clean cotton bud, and his on the shape of your head from this angle.

you'd patched him up many times now, it was like second nature, but with the way your hand lingered on the cold skin of his bare waist to ensure precision, jason could begin to feel himself heat up.

but his temperature regulated again as soon as you pulled away, tossing the last dirty bud in the bin by your feet.

you sprayed your hands with antiseptic once again as you pulled away from his form, wheels of your chair squirming against the ground.

"okay," you quietly began, ripping open a clean pair of tweezers. "i'm going to start taking out the shrapnel. are you okay with that?"

from his perch, jason let out a chuckle, eyes twinkling down at you when you glanced over at him.

"what's so funny?"

jason's half-crescent eyes watched you as you slid back closer to him. "it's just that you say that every time," he laughed, one of those genuine smiles growing on his face; only a smile you saw, and if anyone else ever saw it, it was only ever directed at you. "even though the answer is always yes."

despite thumping a little in your chest, you gave a dismissive shake of your head, smile ever-present around him. "i don't see what's funny about that. consent isn't a laughing matter."

your elbow brushed against the tactical material on the top of his thigh as you positioned yourself to reach that lower entry wound, and jason brought his hand up to place carefully upon the side of your head.

normal friend interactions.

"not saying it is," he breathed, just so below his breath, which brushed against your forehead. "i just like that you care enough to ask." fingers circled careful patterns against your scalp, and your not too sure how you managed to maintain concentration. "if it was alfred, or bruce, or dick, they'd just go for it, because they know i'm okay with it. and i know you know i am, too, but you care enough to ask."

the metal tips of the tweezer latched on to a chunk of shattered bullet, and you carefully inched it out of jason's skin, the area around the entry beginning to calm to a pink as opposed to the previous red.

you leaned back to plop it in the container you'd laid out on the tray, and glanced up at him, his hand retracting from your head and laying upon his lap.

"you're my best friend, jason," you stated, although you couldn't hide the vulnerability in your tone fast enough. "when i'm with you, you're my priority, whether you've been stupid enough to purposely get shot, or not."

and you wheeled yourself back in between his legs, ready to dive in to retrieve another bullet from his skin.

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

˚˙⊹⁺. ⋆ ❝ 𝙬𝙚’𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 ❞ ⛆ ﾟ ˚˙⊹⁺.

↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace headcannons for when you’re feeling down (because hot girls are chronically sad)! ❞

༄𓇢𓆸⋆°•☁︎

xavier

he notices you’ve been more down after missions, faking smiles, going straight home after missions instead of lingering about stirring up more trouble

he’s not sure how to approach, him personally if he was in a mood he wouldn’t want nobody talking to him

then he remembers that you and him are not the same, you two never were, you needed that check in

so after work he offers to walk with you back home, after all you two are neighbors

you were hesitant, you just wanted the time to yourself— you weren’t in the mood for making conversation

but he picks up on that and only offers a comfortable silence, you appreciate it

once you make it back he’s hesitant to just let you get off on your floor

so he lies

he mentions that there was some new information about the no hunt zone that would be useful in your journey

he feels bad when he sees you slightly perk up at his fib

so when you follow him up to his apartment waiting on the info, he tries to deflect

what better way to offer to make dinner?

suddenly all thoughts about that information disappears from your mind replaced with the concern that xavier might burn the entire complex down

you spend the evening begrudgingly helping out with dinner although you seem to be more at ease, more like your old self

before the two of you know it, you had a comforting meal in front of you

it was a comfortable silence between the two of you, you had made food that you probably wouldn’t have made if you had just gone back to your apartment and the complex was in one piece— you’d consider that a win

on the other side of the table, he eyes you with the intention to see what was on your mind

you definitely seemed to be in higher spirits but he was still undoubtedly worried about you

he wasn’t exactly sure how to approach

until you hear your message notification go off

“are u okay?”

you can’t help but look up at him, you literally were sitting across from him

another ding, another message

“i wasn’t sure if u were up for talking— figured this would be easier for u”

you couldn’t help but smile softly at his thoughtfulness

the two of you text back and forth, sneaking glances at one another after the other sent a message

it was easier to articulate your thoughts over text no matter how long it took you to form the words

and when you got stuck or frustrated with typing an explanation, he’d reach across the table putting a hand over yours

“it’s okay.”

he was still new to being a comforting presence in your life but little did he know that it would come easy to him

as the evening dwindled down, he insists he’ll do the dishes in the morning— right now he just wants to take care of you

so what did that entail? he had cheesy romantic movies from a multitude of decades at his disposal ready to sleep through watch with you

as you two get comfortable on the couch, he makes sure that you’re tucked into his side with an arm comfortably around you

as the movie goes on you’re definitely in higher spirits, sure your problems were still there but today they didn’t manage to consume you

and you had the big warm teddy bear of a man who was running his fingers through your hair like one pets a cat to thank

rafayel

he’s actually so insufferable LMAO

you’ve been in one of your moods for ages now and his constant whining and fits whenever you weren’t around was taxing for you

essentially you lowkey ghost him (and everyone else he’s not special lol)

it’s funny because he always complains about not knowing where you are like he doesn’t have your location (this man would LOVE life360)

he sees that you haven’t left your apartment in days and takes matters into his own hands

you wake up from your third (?) nap that day to some loud obnoxious knocking, you were not pleased considering that you had a gentle doorbell that was easier to sleep through

right when you open the door to tear whoever out there a new one, your angry eyes lock onto those beautiful familiar ones

he wanted to throw a fit right then and there about how you’ve constantly ignored his calls and texts and how you haven’t left your apartment but he sees it in your eyes

it was the last thing you needed

so he practically invites himself in with a bag of groceries in tow

you open your mouth to protest but he swiftly shuts you down

“you look terrible.”

you should curse him out, that’s what you’re feeling at the moment but you also know he doesn’t deserve that

you just give him a tired look

“thanks.”

he makes you go take a shower while he gets started on a seafood dinner (can we talk about this??? like this man is a CANNIBAL enjoying a whole seafood boil like THATS YO FRIENDS)

you come out the shower feeling a bit better so you go to the kitchen

he’s yapping to the poor crabs he had boiling in the pot

“she’s lucky she has me y’know? or else she would’ve just wasted away— i know right! even after she practically disappeared on me! okay… yeah i knew she was at home the entire time but i can’t help but worry!”

you clear your throat and he throws a cheeky smile your way

“just confiding with my counsel.”

you refrain from commenting on how he should let the poor crabs boil in peace

it isn’t long before he has a plentiful seafood spread, he keeps putting more food on your plate (not seafood but like the garnish stuff— he gives you all his potatoes lol)

you’re not exactly making conversation with him but that’s okay, he can talk enough for the both of you

especially when he’s complaining about how you left him alone

“what was i supposed to do with myself without my bodyguard— thomas just isn’t as efficient!”

somewhere, someplace thomas lets out a sneeze

the conversation gets exhausting at some point and he starts to catch on, when he notices that you’re practically done he kicks you out to the living room so he can clean up

you offer to help but he’s not having it

you opt for waiting for him on your couch, full of food and in an arguably better headspace than you were in before you start to nod off

“don’t tell me you’re falling asleep on me?”

your eyes snap open

he has no issue plopping down on the couch next to you

“seriously miss bodyguard, you’re killing me here— you’re supposed to be bringing your a game.”

his joking tone is quick to become serious as he takes your hand in his

“talk to me, please…?”

you let out a sigh and explain your depressive slump

saying it out loud made you feel even more pathetic but he’s quick to pick up the pieces cupping your face with the upmost care

“you deserve the world y’know that?”

you blink, his words not processing

“allow yourself grace pretty girl, nobody expects you to carry it all on your own— at least i don’t.”

his fingers lightly trace your features, he wears a gentle smile with you

it’s not often you’re on the receiving side of comfort with him, it felt nice

“oh you poor thing…”

you didn’t realize the tears slipping out until he was wiping them away with the pads of his thumb

he pulls your head into the warmth of his chest, his fingers gently combing through your hair as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you towards a peaceful sleep

“you’ll be okay.”

zanye

he hears about your injuries not from you or the agency— but from some idle chatter that the nurses were having

“those hunters who were sent up to the mountains, they took quite the beating last i heard.”

it didn’t take much for him to approach the nurses and coax them into giving him more information about what they heard

which leads him to send you texts and calls, but you weren’t answering

it seems like he was sent on a wild goose chase before finding you at the hunter agency’s practice grounds to his dismay

you’re bandaged up from your torso to your right shoulder, the tank top you sported aided in displaying you plentiful bruises

you were target practicing, your aim was sloppy, unfocused

he approaches you in caution, less he gets caught in the crossfire of your state

upon moving closer he can’t ignore the fatigue that was etched onto your face

one of your shots recoil causing you to stumble

he took this as an opportunity to get to your side and steady you

“you’re hardly effective in this state.”

his little quips about her lack of involvement in her own health sometimes were normal, so why did the air get frigid— more so than usual

“is that all i am? my worth tied to my usefulness, if i’m not effective i’m nothing.”

he did not mean to uncover this

but it was obvious, there was something deeper at play

“i did not wish to offend.”

you let out a sigh, of course he didn’t— you blew up on him with no grounds for doing so

you keep your head low, ready to aim another shot at one of the targets, your arm trembling

he puts his hand over yours, extending his arm as well, gently pushing down for you to lower your aim

“you’ll run yourself into the ground.”

“i have a job to do dr. zayne.”

“then you understand that i’m going to do mine.”

he practically drags you out of the training grounds, ready to scold and lecture you but he sees your defeated, tired look

it can wait

he takes you back to your apartment where he properly addresses your wounds and gathers what he needs to redo your bandages

but even after all that, he still sees your exhausted dejected look— he curses the fact that he can’t treat your worries and burdens

so he opts for the next best thing

he abandons the bandages for a moment and pulls you to your feet

you give him a tired, confused look

“come, i’ll run you a bath.”

he knows your apartment like the back of his hand as he guides you to your bathroom

he seats you on the toilet seat before undressing you carefully, you shiver slightly as the air hits your bare skin

had this been any other circumstance you would’ve protested and grown embarrassed at the intimacy

but you were just so tired

your thoughts are drowned out by the sound of the water filling the tub, the ambiance was calming until his voice snaps you out of it

he had been calling your name

he pulls you up, making sure you’re steady before helping you into the bathtub

you fret about the water you accidentally splashed out but he quiets you in an act of reassurance as he lowered you into the tub

“shh, it’s no matter— i’ll handle it later.”

you can’t help but sigh at his words, he always knew how to put you at ease

the hot water caused you to hiss as he lowered you in, immediately after relief filled your achy body

“careful now, i need you upright.”

his words were gentle as he steadied you, keeping you from sinking into the water

from there he bathed you with the upmost care, cautious of your wounds

you leaned into his touch as you closed your eyes

regardless of whether or not you admitted it out loud, he knew you needed this

he could tell you were starting to drift in and out of consciousness

but that just meant he had to hold on to you a little bit tighter

when you come to you’re no longer in the bathtub but rather in your bed, dressed in some loose pajamas that wouldn’t aggravate your freshly wrapped wounds

you try to shift around and make sense of your surroundings but the strong arms around your torso make those attempts futile

“lay still, i’ve got you.”

the voice rumbles right behind you as you relax, he was your safety net after all

and when you had fallen to one of your lows, he caught you

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: yall trying to put this out was like pulling teeth BAVDVDBSNENHEHS i hate uni so much why do i have to go to an academic institution im just a girl ☹️☹️☹️

the way i write headcannons/bullet point to avoid actually writing because im lazy el oh el

anywhozies i have more half baked ideas in the drafts its really a matter of when im not drained to write and finish them 😵‍💫

that’s it from me in the meantime love you all mwahhhhh 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

╰───┄ °❀

[patrophthia]

Hey beeeeeeee!!!

Decided to join the 1k followers eventtt!! Oh and congrats on 1k!!

Can I request a Theodore Nott x fem!reader fic based on the prompt "but... I thought you loved me" fluff pls

Sorry if it's super vague xx Thank youuu!!

ps: happy endinggg

Love you and your work 😍

HI BABES!!!! thank you for sending this end and im sorry it took so long ive been a bit busy with school work!! but here it is!!

thought you loved me | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, just crack/humor, chaotic reader!

part of my 1k followers event !

You're weird. Not in a way where you'd randomly stand up on a table and scream weird. But more like convincing people that you were your boyfriend and him you weird. Like asking Theodore if he'd like to drink Polyjuice portions and switch bodies with you for a day just for the shit and giggles weird. 

He thought he knew what he signed up for when he started dating you but it seemed like you find new ways to surprise him everyday. 

The two of you are standing in the middle of a shop, looking over all the ingredients one would need for the Polyjuice with a hovering hand over each container. "Why not?" 

"Because it's ridiculous," he says easily. "Not to mention the potion is extremely time consuming to brew." 

"If you're worried about that then I'd do all the work," you tell him, "just give me a hair then spend the day with me as me!" 

He tries to be stern. "Baby," he says first, trying to soften the blow; Theodore wasn't the biggest on pet names only ever using it to convince you to not do something stupid. "No." 

"No?" You repeated after him. "But I thought you loved me?" 

You're evil. You're weird and evil. For you to play with his heart knowing full well he'd give in to because of such simple words is just plain evil. "I do love you, just not enough to let you freely walk in my body."

Your brows furrows, you absentmindedly handing over a basket of ingredients into Theodore hands. "Why not?"

"Cause I know you." He takes it without a word. "You'd probably sign me up for something time consuming and I'd have to spend the rest of year with it." 

Okay. Fair point. If given the chance you'd probably —definitely— do something like that if you'd found it funny enough to do. "Okay," you sigh, feigning upset. "If you didn't love me just say that." 

"Babyyy." Theodore whines. He actually whines. Because he's so love with you and he knows that once you've set your mind on something, you were going to get it no matter what you had to do. "I love you, I just don't want to be you." 

"Oh so now you hate me too?" You scoff, biting back a laugh when Theodore shuts his eyes at your words. "I see how it is." 

He opens one eye back up, peeking at you. Your eyes meet, the corner of his lips curving upwards as did yours. "Fine," he says finally, "I'll drink your stupid potion." 

You don't have enough time to celebrate when he adds: "but I'm brewing the thing myself. I love you but I'd rather not die because you brewed it improperly." 

And seeing that Theodore was the top of the class in potions, who were you to disagree with your very intelligent boyfriend?

[fiapartridge]

hii 💌 with macklin celebrini and his celebrity crush! reader ?? teehee 🤭🤭

macklin celebrini x hughes!sister

summary: when a video on the bu hockey instagram blows up, you finally match the name to the most perfect face.

fia's notes: i love mack so much. he's my fave bu boy 💌 also! happy valentine's day! 💌⭐���🍓 OH! and i made this a hughes!sister because...i wanted to... enjoy!!! <3333

Who is your celebrity crush? the whiteboard read as the boys piled off the ice and down the hall towards the locker room. Monday questions were the guys’ favorite or least favorite day depending on which guy you were asking. 

Case bounded off the ice, catching the question in the corner of his eye. “Mm, Margot Robbie. One hundred percent,” he pointed at the camera, winking. 

Lane Hutson was next as he stumbled down the hall, smiling once he saw the board. He hummed, standing in front of the question as he thought deeply about his answer. “Can I have multiple answers? Yes? Okay, um, I like Meghan Fox sometimes, Alex Morgan is pretty cool, Livvy Dunne definitely, Taylor Swift is a favorite, maybe Ariana Grande but she’s been iffy lately—”

Pushing him off camera, Doug laughed as he read the board. “Jesus, Lane. How many crushes do you have?”

“Hey! There’s a lot of beautiful women out there,” he smiled at the camera as Doug made a gagging noise in the background.

“Aiden!” Doug called for the boy as Aiden laid his stick on the wall and threw his hands to his hips. 

“Huh?” he replied.

“Celebrity crush, go.”

Aiden chuckled before shaking his head and pointing to Macklin who was trailing behind him, oblivious to the question. “Why don't we ask Mack over here,” he beamed, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and throwing him in front of the camera. “Macky definitely has someone in mind, don’t you Mack?”

Macklin would have punched his brother square in the face if he hadn’t been standing directly in front of the camera. A light tinge of pink dusted the boy’s features as Aiden teased him for his sudden shyness.

“C’mon Mack, maybe she’ll see it!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Macklin laughed awkwardly as he raked his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t say it, somebody else will.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he pointed as Aiden grinned at the camera.

“Macky’s in love with Y/N Hughes!” he shouted before Macklin shoved him off camera, the video cutting off as you gaped at your screen. 

The video was being sent to you by everyone you knew and every single person you didn’t know, too.  Your entire feed was flooded with the boy’s reddened cheeks and awkward smile. The first few times of watching it, you felt bad that the boy was getting blasted on social media for liking you, but after a couple more rounds of watching, you went down a Macklin Celebrini rabbit hole. Your search engine was consumed with his interviews and game highlights. You researched his stats, age, birthplace, which school he was currently attending, everything. 

And it didn’t hurt that he was hot and your age. I mean, you weren’t new to the hockey scene being that you grew up in a house full of stars: your dad was an assistant coach for the Boston Bruins, your mom played for the US National Team at the Women’s World Championship, your brother was the captain of the Canucks, and your remaining brothers were playing on the same team in the NHL, breaking records and setting new ones. Your entire life was hockey even though you had nothing to do with the sport in the slightest. No, you were more of a figure skater—an Olympic gold figure skater, to be exact. You were on the ice in a different, less violent way. But you still supported your family and all of their endeavors, and gratefully, they supported yours, too.

So Macklin wasn’t a total stranger. You had heard talks of the projected #1 first pick at the 2024 NHL draft, but you never cared enough to match the face to the name. It’s funny that this is how you found out—sitting on your living room couch surrounded by your protective older brothers who knew his stats like the back of their hand. And they all held a bit of resentment for him.

“He was on Team Canada,” Jack scoffed. “You should not be associating with him.”

“So was Mercer!” you retorted. “And he’s still one of your best friends!”

“He’s also my teammate, Y/N/N. I can’t really not like the guy.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to the oldest who sat on the other side of you. “Quinny?”

He shrugged. “He’s a good kid, good stats, from Vancouver so you already know he’s a Canucks fan,” he smirked. “Let it go, Jack.”

Jack turned towards Luke who sat on the coffee table directly in front of you as he held your laptop on his lap, rewatching the video. “Luke? Thoughts?”

Luke looked up, watching as the three of them stared right back at him. “He’s in college, so at least you know he’s getting an education.”

Jack chuckled. “You were in college and you still have the brain of a monkey.”

Luke stood up, throwing the laptop on the couch as you and Quinn gave each other knowing looks. “And if you went to college, you would know that monkeys are actually really smart!”

You rolled your eyes, huffing as they burned glares into each other’s souls. “Can you guys just shut up!” you shouted. “I’m going to DM him and then I am going to never ask for your guys’ opinions ever again,” you smiled, standing up from the couch and walking towards your bedroom.

“I still don’t like him!” Jack yelled from the living room.

You groaned, not even making a move to turn around and talk to him. You simply shouted from the stairs, “I don’t care!” 

You started a conversation with "Macklin Celebrini"!

You: Hii!

Macklin: You saw it, didn’t you?

You: What gave it away?

Macklin: The fact that you probably didn’t know I existed until that video came out.

You: Okayy, true. BUT I enjoyed it!

Macklin: Which part? The part where I was trying not to kill my brother, or the part that became a meme of my face getting so red everyone put tomatoes all over my Instagram comments?

You: Both? To be fair, I thought your blushing was cute.

Macklin: You’re kidding.

You: Not in the slightest. :) So, when are you in Michigan next? Heard there was this super fun lake house there in the summer.

Macklin: I can’t believe this is happening.

You: You would think you would be a bit more enthusiastic.

Macklin: Believe me, my face is crazier than in the video right now, and that’s saying something.

You: I believe it. And actually, that’s just all of my burner accounts commenting on your post.

Macklin: Knew something was suspicious.

You: Oh, definitely. Also…

Macklin: Bad news? I knew this was going too well.

You: No. Just thank your brother for me.

Macklin: For what?

You: For leading me to you.

Macklin: Oh, God, I’ve gone full-on tomato.

You: 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅!

Macklin: IT WAS YOU

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hello helloo! I've a request but I hope it doesn't sound weird.. There is such a tradition in Turkey, maybe you know, or heard about it. Women add salt to their fiances coffee to show that marriage is not always sweet (during their unofficial engagement ceremony among their family and friends, Turkish coffee is served to everyone). Soo, I was thinking about it, what would ghost/könig/soap do if their s/o did it to them? Like their s/o sees a video about it and decides to try. I think that would be funny ehehe

Hi!! It's not weird at all! This one was a fun one to write. Hope this is what you were looking for!🙃❤️

Warnings: swearing

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

Ghost/Soap/König's Reaction to Reader Pouring Salt in Their Coffee

Simon "Ghost" Riley-

You and Simon had been together for years before he'd popped the question. In the years you'd been together, you'd never once pranked him.

Scrolling through your phone one day, you came across a video of a Turkish tradition where the bride puts salt in her groom's coffee, and he has to show no indication that he didn't enjoy it. You knew at that moment you wanted to try it on Simon.

He'd just gotten home from running some errands, so you decided to make him a coffee to "help him decompress".

He smiled warmly at you, and graciously accepted the coffee. "Thanks, love."

You bit your lip to hide a smile, and simply nodded your head. You watched his face scrunch up in disgust as he took a sip of the coffee.

"Bloody hell, what's in this?"

You faked a sad expression. "What do you mean? It's just coffee."

Simon took in your expression, and a frown formed on his face. "Love I- I meant no offense it's just. It's salty?"

Unable to hold up the facade any longer, you busted out laughing.

Simon was beyond confused at what was going on. "Babe?"

"I watched a video the other day, it's a Turkish tradition that the bride puts salt in her groom's coffee, and he has to not make a face. I thought it would be funny to try." You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing further. "Your reaction was priceless."

"Glad you found it amusing, love. Now come try a sip of this shite yourself." He held the cup up to you for you to try. "Let's see how you react."

"Nope, not gonna happen." You said backing away from the mug.

"Get over here, babe." He moved closer to you as you proceeded to move away from.

What ensued was Simon trying to catch you and force you to drink your concoction.

Much to your dismay, Simon was a lot faster than you.

König-

You'd seen the videos circling TikTok of the Turkish coffee tradition. You found the videos hilarious as you watched the different groom's reactions.

The more you watched them, the more you knew you wanted to try this out on your fiance König.

You'd gotten everything set, it was early morning and you knew König would be down any moment for his usual cup of coffee. You'd made the coffee just the way he liked, the only difference was, you'd poured about a tablespoon of salt in the cup.

König came downstairs with a radiant smile on his face. He saw you holding out a cup of coffee to him, and his eyes lit up. "Good morning Schat. That for me?"

"Morning! Yup, all for you. Made it myself." You were desperately trying not to laugh, as you didn't want to give anything away. "Just the way you like."

"Thank you, my love." He nodded at you before taking a sip from the cup.

You watched as he processed the taste. His nose scrunching slightly, as he turned his back to you.

"This. This is very good dear. Thank you." You could hear him struggling to get the words out, before a coughing fit consumed him.

He turned to you and mustered the best smile he could. "Tastes a bit different. But it's. It's good. Yes."

He moved to take another sip, clearly pretending to enjoy the coffee for your sake so as not to hurt your feelings.

"Kö, baby you don't have to drink it, it's okay." You giggled.

"No love you made it. I shall drink it." You could see that he was doing his best not to gag.

"Baby, it was a joke. I saw a video on tik tok that it's a Turkish tradition to put salt in the groom's coffee to test his reaction. It's evidently a way of saying marriage won't always be sweet."

König visibly relaxed at this, clearly happy he didn't have to continue to drink the coffee. "I hope I have responded well, Schatz. That was not sweet at all. Frankly that was utter shit."

You cackled at his reply and moved to wrap yourself against his torso. "God, I love you, I can't wait to marry you Kö."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish-

The two of you had actually both seen the tik tok, on your own. The minute you'd seen the video, you knew you wanted to try it on Johnny.

You both were in your kitchen, getting ready for your day, when you approached each other, drinks in hand.

"Aye, bug I made you tea. Two creams with extra sugar." He said with a shit eating grin.

"Oh. Well. I made you a coffee. Great minds think alike, huh?" You asked sheepishly, handing the coffee to him.

"What's the occasion?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Just seemed tired, wanted to make you a cup?" You took the tea from him, and studied it closely. In all your years together, he'd never once made you a cup of tea.

"Well thank ye." Soap smiled at you, and moved to take a sip. You watched as his eyes widened, and he immediately spit out the coffee.

"The fuck? You did not." He was laughing hysterically.

You smiled to yourself, before taking a sip of the tea he made you, only to be met with the worst tasting liquid you'd ever experienced. "Good grief Johnny, what the hell is this?" You scrunched your face up in disgust.

"Seems we both had the same idea." He winked, a wicked grin forming on his face.

"Oh my God, did you watch the same video? The Turkish salt in coffee tradition?"

"That I did love. Looks like I'm gonna be the best husband ever."

"Your reaction was terrible! That proves nothing!"

"My dear, you should know, marriage won't always be this sweet." He sauntered up to you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. "Your lips, uh, taste a little salty, dear."

"Screw you, MacTavish."

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

A/N: hope you enjoyed!! Thanks for reading🙃❤️

[famemonsterrr]

Astrology observations part 11;

(Don’t copy my work pliz and these aren’t facts but what I have seen and experienced in my life. If you can’t relate to any of these. It okay we are all different)

-Pisces are really good gaslighters like they argue and they know they losing and then boom…you are the one who is crazy. (Girly pops how about stop it)

- speaking of Pisces…maybe I’m saying it from personal experience but I can’t keep an aesthetic and even when I have find a aesthetic Im changing again. It’s endless circle…I hope another Pisces can relate with me:)

- i have seen an Aquarius women being so quick minded and have unique takes but also I have seen Aquarius women being really shy and slow to talk. There is no between with them.

- y’all think that Taurus are the lazy and don’t like to work out but they are so active and most of them love sports or gym.

- the second best venus is cancer…soooo giving soooo sweet and lovinggggg 🥰

- Aries placements show PASSION in any planet/house they are placed . Like if you have Aries moon you will be really vocal about ur emotions. If you have mercury then you will be passionate about ur opinions ect.

- Taurus and libra are the type of people who are seductive and flirty so naturally but if doesn’t work out they will be so pissed.

- Pisces are insane when they getting obsessed with something they like. They will make sure everyone in their group will know what new show/book/character ect. they started liking.

- Aquarius placements are the type of people who love anything that has to do with universe,planets ect. (Some of them people I know they follow on Instagram space accounts or nasa)

- Capricorn mars are workaholic…they always do things right to get where they want. (A placement that I kinda wish i had) "money money money must be funny in the rich man’s world"

- It’s from my personal observation but we tend to connect mostly with singers that have the same moon sign as we do. Maybe I’m the only one but from day 1 I loved they way Ariana grande was expressing her emotions through music and then I released we both have libra moon. So next time check the moon sign of ur fave artist 🤌🏻 (it’s my showing that I’m a big Ariana girly)

- Scorpio Venus people are my favourite cause they like you a lot and they know it but you don’t know it. They will not let you go and if they do they will return back to you no matter what. They will know everything about you and ask a lot about you. They will care about your opinions (when they really don’t care about others). They will share the darkest secrets with you,they personal/family traumas. They are consumed by your existence. (if they have Sagittarius placements maybe they will pretend not care at the same time so you might think u are just friends)

- speaking of Venus…if you are a Scorpio pliz find a Pisces Venus for you. Like insane connection. Soulmate energy and both consumed by each other. (My personal fave duo)

- Gemini Venus need to be studied cause they rush into love and at the same time they can’t settle. (Girly pops maybe decide for once but men are the worst)

- cancer mercury is more dramatic than a Leo but they don’t show it that easily.

- they say don’t date someone who has the same moon sign as you…but I disagree. You will be the same page and react the same way. Understanding from both sides. ( my ex bestie has libra moon and we understood each other so well). Maybe date or hang out with people that have the same moon as you.

- Sagittarius mercury/Venus flirts for joke but they do it so well that you fall for them and then they have to run away from you.

That’s all💙

Here is my masterlist

Thank you for reading my blog so far. Really grateful about that 🫶🏻 and sorry if I do spelling mistakes but I’m not Native American speaker so I try my best. Stay hydrated and healthy 💙

[queers-gambit]

Affirmation King

prompt: ( requested ) attending university as a full-time student is hard, but your boyfriend makes some of the stress worth it.

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 3.1k+

note: author gives unsolicited advice in the form of sharing a citation website to make college essays a little easier! this is not meant as promotion or anything, it's just your author trying to share a resource they know of.

warnings: cursing, small hurt large comfort (reader snaps a little at Carmy but he handles it like a fucking pro), author gives unsolicited college advice in the form of a recommended website, reader is in a masters program and not undergrad, fluff.

The 16 inch screen glared into your retinas, fingers feeling numb from the hours pounding away at the loose keyboard. When the screen started to warble and darken, your head ducked down slightly to try and preserve your visual; glaring up at the offender when they pressed the screen closed after forcing you to retract your hands.

"You're cute and all, but not so cute as to interrupt me like that," you deadpanned, eyes wide and burning from your lack of lubrication via blinking.

"You've been sat here for hours, it's time for a break."

"Funny when I say that to you, it's always, 'Get outta my kitchen.'"

Carmy smirked, "Come eat something."

"Let me finish this essay and - "

"No, it's time for a meal."

You felt your irritation spike, narrowing your eyes slightly, "I'm on a deadline, Carmen, so either be fucking helpful and productive or get the fuck out of my space. I've got work to do and you're just slowing me down."

He offered a patient look, asking, "Is that what you really wanted to say?"

You paused, then shook your head, "No... May I try again?"

"Of course," he nodded.

"I appreciate you trying to... Alleviate some of my stress," you spoke slowly, stringing the sentence together in realtime, "but this project isn't something I can ignore right now, so, I'd like to finish this thing before we do whatever else."

"Better," he teased, knowing you ran a short fuse when stressed out and overworked. "What's got you riled up?"

"I have this 20-page paper due."

"20 pages!?"

"It's not that bad, honestly, once you have your thesis together," you chuckled dryly. "it's just time consuming and meticulous."

He frowned and stepped forward to press a kiss to your forehead, mocking in a sarcastic tone, "You're doing amazing, sweetie."

"I'm so tired," you pouted up at him. "Do I really need this degree? This is so much stress for such a little thing such as a piece of paper that cost me $50k just to say I'm allowed to join the work force."

"Hey, hey," he laughed. "Just remember what you're working towards. You're one assignment closer to your internship turning into a full-time gig, right?"

You nodded, "You're right. I want that job so bad... I just hate how busy I feel - it's like, how can I remember to eat let alone write 6 different response posts to my classmate's work?"

Carmy nodded with empathy, "Just remember that end goal, baby. Keep grinding, keep moving. Almost at the finish line, right?"

"Right," you nodded with a smile. "Thank you, angel face."

Carmy smiled at you before softly asking, "Want me to bring you anything? Something to eat, drink, a condom?"

"Stop quoting Mean Girls at me!"

His hands shot up in defense, deflecting, "I was just trying to be a gracious host. If the missus wants anything, I'll make sure she has it."

"Pretty sure 'missus' is a term used for wives - " His groan made you laugh lightly, then covering, "No, thank you, baby, I'm okay. I should only be about another hour or so...?"

"All right, yeah, sure. I'll start dinner in 30, okay?"

"Sure," you smiled, already distracted again as you lifted your screen again to stare at the Word document that had been haunting your hard-drive for about 3 weeks now.

"Hey," he interrupted, "don't forget your glasses."

"Thank you," you mumbled, reaching for the special, blue-light filtering glasses Carmy had gifted you when you first started your Master's program. He claimed staring at a computer screen was going to cause long-term damage (he read an article) and got you a pair, which, you had to admit, made a huge difference.

Your hair was raked into a new bun as you reread the last of your essay, trying to get back in the academic mindset in order to finish the last bit of your assignment. There were textbooks spewed around your work table; laptop plugged in, highlighters and pens and notebooks within reach and a nearly-finished bottle of water was set to the side. You wrote ferociously once you got back on the right mental track, feeling your headache stir to life as you blindly reached for your water bottle.

However, when you picked it up, you blinked in mild shock when the bottle was heavier than before. Glancing over, you realized Carmy had replaced the bottle because there, under where it had sat, he left you a handwritten note:

replenish what you lost from crying!

You chuckled, knowing you were a stress cryer and when tackling big assignments like this, you were ten times as stressed as usual. Still you worked, even putting your headphones on to play soothing background noise - like rainfall. Your neck cramped, back ached, temples throbbed, and hands were cramping. Still you worked, using sticky notes to flag the important quotes you wanted to use from your textbooks and notebooks. Your stomach growled, your eyes begged for reprieve, chest felt tight, and shoulders were too tense.

Still. You. Worked.

Deadlines were important to you, and while you were a professional procrastinator, you always turned everything in on time - no matter your mental state. You could smell whatever Carmy had started cooking, focused on writing as you only used spellcheck as you went - and still you worked. You knew you surpassed the hour limit you told Carmy, but you couldn't stop, you were so close to finishing, it almost put tears back in your eyes, but this time out of relief. You only paused to look at online sources and apply chapstick, cracking your tightly-wound knuckles, and when you finished the last body paragraph of the essay, grinned to yourself.

All that was left was your conclusion, to create a bibliography, and to edit - but you were almost home free!

Suddenly, you jumped in fright when a hand planted on your shoulder; whipping around to see your boyfriend's own startled expression. "Sorry," Carmy apologized with a wince when you removed your headphones, "didn't mean to scare you, just wanted to check on you."

You nodded, 'Yeah, no, I'm almost done. Like give me 20 minutes, almost done-almost done."

He smiled softly, "Dinner's ready when you are."

"I'll be there soon, thank you, angel face."

"Can I help with anything?"

"Uh," you cocked your head, "you know what? Maaaaybe..."

"Really?" He grinned, perking up. "You never let me help!"

"It's not really work, per se," you amended, "but would you mind letting me read this out loud to you - see if it makes sense? The mark of a good writer is to act as if the audience knows nothing about the subject and make them understand, and you're exactly that."

"Lemme hear it," he nodded, taking a seat, "I might not be much help but I can still try."

You agreed and finished typing the outline of your conclusion, then scrolled to the top of your word document, and explained to him what your class was before starting to read. He listened intently, sitting on a spare stool with his elbows resting on his knees; keeping him leaned forward to provide his undivided attention. You managed to reword a few sentences, only noticing they didn't make sense when you read them out loud. Once or twice, Carmy even offered an alternative phrasing you liked - making the changes and rereading, then continuing through your assignment.

By the end, you were able to beef up the conclusion and Carmy was grinning at you in pride. "That's real good, baby," he complimented, "it all made sense and rolled nice together. I think that has to be an 'A'-worthy paper."

"You should be the one grading theses, my professor's the worst," you frowned. "It's why I got so in my head, I got a fucking 76 on my last essay and need to do really well on the next few to help average my grade."

"What about the tests?"

"We don't have any, this class is all about writing material and turning it in," you pouted.

"Hey," he spoke seriously, making you look at him in question, "I'm really proud of you."

You giggled nervously, "Oh, yeah? Why? What for?"

"For doing this," he nodded to the desk. "Look at all you're doing, baby, there's no way I'd ever be able to keep up with this kinda shit. You're doing such a great fucking job - I want you to remember that. What you're doing ain't easy, but you're handling this like a pro."

"I cry, like, everyday..."

"So what? You still get shit done while emoting - call that multitasking, baby."

"Got me there."

"Seriously, though, you're not told enough what a fantastic job you're doing; how strong and resilient you have to be to deal with this kind of stress day-in and day-out. I see the hard work you put in," he promised, "and I want you to know how fucking proud I am of you. It's all gonna be worth it one day, but until then, I love watching you grind through school. I might not take the classes with you, but I'll help however I can, whenever I can."

"Thank you," you whispered. "It's really nice to hear... I feel myself burning out and it's nice to be reminded that what I do now will influence my future. Validates me in feeling stressed out, you know? Sometimes, I feel silly 'cause, like, there's so many bigger things to be upset about and here I am, stressed out at a place that's guaranteed to stress me out..."

"It's not silly, it's normal. College ain't easy," he reminded, "and you're just trying to keep yourself afloat."

"Yeah, but there's bigger things in life than something trivial as my education."

Carmy scoffed at you, shaking his head, "Ain't no way."

"What?"

"My girl just said her feelings are trivial... Nah, she said her emotions about her education is trivial," he shook his head again. "Should wash your mouth out with soap - talkin' crazy like that. Baby, you know, first and foremost, your education is high on our priorities list, but your emotions? You think they're trivial? Nah, if anything causes you to have any emotion, it's valid - it's not something silly or redundant."

You pouted slightly, "You always know what to say."

"Hungry?"

"You're the perfect man," you laughed, looking at your document again and humming. "Okay, so, lemme just cite my sources and turn this in."

"Then you wanna have date night?" He smirked.

"No, no, I'm so tired - "

"I meant we can stay in."

"Oh, then count me in!"

"Change into something cozy when you're done, we can watch a movie with dinner. Yeah?"

You agreed, accepted his kiss of encouragement, and then took his leave to reheat the dinner that had surely cooled off. It didn't take long to cite everything when you used an online citation source website - that IS N O T plagiarizing! It's a handy-dandy tool you discovered your undergraduate freshman year by an actual professor. It was as simple as choosing which style, APA or MLA, and then to either paste the URL of the website you need sourced or you type in the book's information. Hit the generate button and BAM! A perfect citation for your bibliography every single time.

Or if you didn't like that, you could always just Google citation examples and do your best to write it out yourself. But the website, Citation Machine dot net, was a great tool. After perfecting your in-text citations and saving your work, you uploaded it to your university's assignment portal, crossed the essay off your to-do list, and stretched on your feet.

Cleaning up your space minimally, you hustled to your bedroom to get a quick hot, relieving shower, change, and then met Carmy in the kitchen. "Hey," you sighed with a soft smile.

"Hey, doll. All done?"

"For tonight," you groaned, "but tomorrow's a new day with new assignments."

"That's a future problem we'll handle at a later time," he eased, showing you your dinner plate. "Ta-daaaa!"

You grinned, "Oh, baby, this looks amazing!"

"Yeah, well, I kinda figured as a full-time student right now, nobody was gonna remind you what incredible job you're doing, so, I'm more than happy to step up to the plate. And what better treat than your favorite meal, huh?"

"Thank you," you whispered, pecking his lips.

You often thought his love language was "food", but then you realized it was technically under the acts of service and quality time. He loved cooking for you - it was like a gift. He loved cooking with you - it was time spent bonding. He loved introducing you to new dishes - it's a present! He loved when you let him give you a culinary lesson - it was time well spent.

"C'mon," Carmy lead you to the living room, both crashing on the couch you had been gifted from your grandmother's house when she was put in a nursing home. Normally, you wouldn't have splurged on something like this, but considering it was free, you and Carmy were happy to use it. Settling together on the couch, you got cozy under a shared blanket and Carmy flicked some movie on for background noise, but instead of watching, he just asked you about your coursework.

You told him what you could, shaking your head and huffing about how annoying your program was. How hectic. How jam packed and fast-paced it all seemed to be. How your head felt like it was spinning. How you couldn't nail down workable coping mechanisms and just felt totally out of control. You were spiraling.

You needed this rant session.

Carmy listened intently.

He never once tried to say, "oh, but if you had time management," or anything like, "if you do THIS instead..." or some bullshit, "my way works better." His bright and wide blue eyes watched you the entire time, sighing when you got to the end of your meal and vent session.

"It just feels like, I turn in one assignment, I get three more right after. Turn in those three, and all of a sudden, there's another 10!"

"Does the syllabus say anything about that?" He wondered.

"No, it just said what our reading schedules were and when major assignments are due. But those dates all got shuffled around that it feels like a train wreck. You know, if the original schedule was kept from the syllabus, I wouldn't feel so worked up! It's the rearrangement and added assignments without warning that's throwing me off."

"That doesn't sound easy," he validated. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No, you're doing more than enough," you whispered, pecking his lips. "Thank you for dinner."

"I made dessert, too."

"No!" You gasped with a grin.

"Mhm - wait here. I'll grab it."

"Wow, dinner, movie, and dessert?" You teased, "I'm being spoiled tonight."

"You've been working your ass off for weeks now," he smirked, standing from his seat to pick up your plates, "this is the least I could do. I know I said it, but you know how good a job you're doing, right? Damn, baby," he chuckled, "ain't no way I could ever handle shit like that on the regular."

"I could't do what you do, either."

"We all balance our crazy different. Want some tea? Wine?"

"Tea would be great."

"Comin' up."

When Carmy returned, you pulled the blanket back to let him sit again with the dessert plate between you both; two steaming mugs of tea sat on the coffee table. "What's this?" You wondered, seeing a sort of pastry.

"Marcus told me 'bout this," he chuckled. "Kinda like a poor man's version of this one thing he makes. So, look, it's Pillsbury Crescent Rolls, right? In the middle, there's raspberry preserves - or jam if you want that instead. It's baked then drizzled in melted white chocolate."

"Wow, you got all fancy on me," you beamed.

"Hardly, more like I was a little impulsive after hearing your essay. Figured you could use some dessert - you really earned it, baby. You always earn dessert," he grinned, "but tonight, you were kickass. Know that? Hear me?"

You shook your head, "This is nothing compared - "

"Hey, hey, nah," he interrupted, "nah, nah, don't do that, don't try to invalidate or downplay yourself. Look, shit is always hard in college, right? But you handle it so well, I can see the work you're putting in and the little reward you receive in return, and know that shit's gotta add up for you. But my baby just keeps cool, does her work, and does what she can to earn the grades she does. Right?"

"I mean, I try to..."

"You succeed. C'mon, lemme hear you say it. 'I kick college's ass.'"

"I kick college's ass."

"'I work hard.'"

"Carmy - "

"Saaay it!"

You huffed, "I work hard."

"'I'm an incredible hard worker.'"

"I'm an incredible hard worker."

"'I am only human.'"

Another breath in, repeating, "I am only human."

"'I am a success.'"

"I try to be a success."

"That wasn't the quote."

"Well, I don't know if I'm succeeding because grades aren't finalized yet and I have - "

"No, no, no," he smirked again, "you're still successful 'cause you're doing such a kickass job. You could get a fucking 'D' on something, and guess what? You're still successful 'cause you don't let this tear you down, you learn from mistakes and apply whatever lessons you learn to your upcoming assignments. Some people say you might even learn more from losing and failing than from undisputed success. Look, I'll be honest, I thought my job was hectic as shit, but hearing your essay tonight? Goddamn, you're not just beautiful, but so fucking intelligent, too. Baby, I was shook - that sounded like some academic paper that college kids need to defend their thesis or some shit. Something scholarly, not some assignment you gotta hand in by a deadline so you just wrote down whatever. So, give yourself credit and tell yourself you're a success."

With a long, deep breath, you answered earnestly, "I'm a success."

"Good girl," he muttered, handing you a fork finally. However, unlike Mikey all those years ago, you didn't launch your utensil at anyone and used it to cut off a corner of pastry.

You moaned when you tasted the gooey goodness. You managed through a mouthful, "Mmhhh! Mhm! Mhm! If you make this every time I have some assignment pissing me off and stressing me out, I'm afraid I'll get used to this treatment."

Carmy grinned, "You deserve whatever dessert you want, whenever you want. Huh? Yeah? Lemme hear you say it."

With another grin, you mused, "I deserve whatever I want, when I want it... And however I want it!"

"Atta girl!"

"You're so fucking corny," you laughed lightly, feeling as if you were falling in love with him again, "but thank you, my Affirmation King."

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[alexanderwales]

I think the worst part of my experience with the internet is when people make bold claims and I say to myself "is that actually true though?" and then, rather than continuing on with my life and letting it lie, I take it upon myself to answer the question to my own satisfaction.

And this is often very difficult and time-consuming, because the thing that's boldly being claimed is complex and nuanced, and there's possibly a grain of truth somewhere that I really would need to go looking for.

I used to have a very Catholic coworker who I'd get in fights with all the time, and he was terrible about providing sources for the things he said, because obviously it was based on an article that had landed in his inbox and it was hard for him to remember all the details, except that he had definitely read it somewhere. So I would take it upon myself to say "okay, what the fuck is this guy talking about" and then eventually I would find the kernel of truth that had led to whatever was in his head. Sometimes this was interesting and worthwhile, but often it was not. On a few occasions, it was just funny/frustrating, because he'd been shared something from the Onion.

(As one example, he had said that Pepsi products contained pieces of aborted fetuses, which was clearly stupid on the face of it. But when I went to go figure out where he'd gotten that from, I learned some stuff about cell lines, and in particular, HEK-293. That cell line comes from the kidney of an aborted (or possibly miscarried) fetus from 1973, and through the magic of biology, became an immortal cell line. This cell line was then used by a company called Senomyx, which had developed a way to test sweetness using them, though so far as I know no one had any proof that they did anything with that particular cell line in association with their partnership with PepsiCo. They certainly weren't putting HEK-293 cells in their drinks. An anti-abortion group then began attempting a boycott of PepsiCo around 2010 on the basis of this partnership, which is how my coworker had wound up repeating to me the claim that Pepsi had aborted fetuses in it. I found this to be a Fun Fact.)

Anyway, tumblr is a particularly bad place for misinformation and bold claims, but today was the first time I failed to stop myself from trying to get some actual sources when someone tossed of a little treat of a fact which did not actually sound true to me. And I didn't even get the answer I was looking for!

It's tangential to this post, but the claim was that sometimes sports were segregated because women were outcompeting men, rather than the reverse. So far as I can find, the answer is "probably false if taken to be anything on the level of a trend", but gymnastics apparently has men and women doing totally different events, and without grabbing a book on the development of gymnastics as a sport, it would be difficult to determine whether the segregation was specifically because men could not compete, rather than some other motive.

The other, more clear-cut example, was mixed skeet shooting, where a woman won a gold medal in the event, then women were barred from competing the next Olympics and a separate women's skeet shooting event was made. Barring other details, this is some sexist bullshit on the part of the International Shooting Union. So I did find evidence of it happening at least once, in a single sport, which was already a sport where women are roughly at parity with men. And if I've found evidence of it happening once, there's a good chance that it's happened more than that. Seems very rare though, and more of a "because sexism" thing rather than "because biological differences". But if I didn't know about that, what else might I not know? Think about what a fool I'd look like if I displayed ignorance of Shan Zhang's 1992 Olympic skeet shooting performance and the subsequent rule change.

The other claim I was trying to track down was "what's the difference in funding for male and female sports, and can we predict how much of an impact that has on performance", which is obviously a fucking huge research question, so I was hoping that someone had done some kind of study that I could read. I don't think there's a bunch of data on how much money is spent on facilities or coaches or whatever, but I was thinking that maybe you could try to find comparable budgets. That would still leave you with some of the social/access/selection problems, but it would at least be something. If the hypothesis was that socialization and funding are the primary reason for the performance gap, we could eliminate at least one of them, and I think there are statistical methods to account for different sample sizes. I was hoping that someone would have done it, or something better than that took an actual knowledge of statistics and sports into account, but apparently not.

FWIW the sports where men and women are at something like parity appear to be those that require endurance, flexibility, or where we wouldn't think there's that much reason your specific body would matter: ultramarathons, equestrian, shooting sports, some archery, and some climbing. It would be weird to me if a difference in funding and engagement and sexism was making a difference in other sports, but not these ones, but I guess I could float some theories if I had to.

I actually do not care that much about these questions, and it gets into a lot of feminist and trans waters that people have strong feelings about, where to me it's just a research issue, trying to find some empirical data. I am including this stuff here mostly for the sake of completeness and because I dislike vagueblogging.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You gag into your hand, shaking. You gurgle and shake out your fingers, the motion of the car adding to your sickness. The man beside you growls. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" 

"Eeek, it's so gross," you drag your tongue against the roof your mouth, like a llama about to spit, "it tastes so bad!" 

You give another repulsed noise and shudder. The salty, sticky, sweaty flavour stains your mouth. You feel like you can even smell it. 

"You don't think it tastes gross?" 

"Do you think I taste my own cum?" He snorts. 

"Like I said, the internet--" 

"Maybe you should cut that out and grow up. You might not be knee deep in shit if you did." 

"I-- me. Sir, you're the one--" 

He reaches over and flicks your throat, right in your esophagus, and cough in pain as you fold over. 

"You think your funny? We'll see who's laughing soon enough," he grits as he slaps his hand back on the steering wheel. "Come into my town and.... bullshit... laughing..." 

He rants under his breath as he drives on. You feel the daggers he sends in your direction as he drives. You'd rather he focused on the road because he just blew a red. 

"So... if you're not the mayor..." you begin as you sit up. You see your reflection in the side mirror; yikes.  

"Don't fucking start," he warns and points a finger, hitting the wheel, "I swear you want to die. Don't you?" 

"Mayors don't talk like that so... no," you frown. "Look, Fl-- Lloyd," you enunciate slowly, "you keep saying I should know who you are but I don't, okay?" 

"Are you going to keep talking?" He grumbles. 

"Sorry, sorry," you rub your neck, your throat still throbbing, "I'm... trying." 

"Not hard enough," he sneers, "all you need to know is to shut your mouth and listen. Got it, sweet lips?" 

You nod and cross your arms, "got it." 

He sighs and eases off the gas. You sit forward and crane around. Where the heck are you? You've never been to this end of town. 

"Sit back," he shoves your shoulder so you hit the seat, "can't see through you despite the empty space in your skull." 

You curl your shoulders in and lower your head. Your adrenaline slowly recedes. Oof, that hits hard. Not worse than anything you've been told before but having a moment to think about it, about everything that's happened on the last few hours, it doesn't feel good. 

You languish in the silence and watch the blend of brick and pavement through the car window. This is just another I told you so. Your parents will be all too happy to laugh on your face. And those old friends who kept you around to make themselves feel better. 

He huffs as he slows and rolls up to a large gate, "come on, cheeks, don't get all pouty now. The fun part's not even begun." 

You lean forward to see beyond the gate as it opens at the touch of his phone screen. You can't help but feel awe at the sprawling yard and towering modern mansion. These places only exist on screens. 

"Aw, baby face, you're seeing all sorts of big things today, huh," he scoffs. 

You don't react. He sways dangerous between menacing and mocking. He might not have told you outright who or what he is, but you can guess by his flagrant threats and even more exorbitant wealth. No on is that cocky or that rich through innocent means. 

He rolls through and the gate shuts without prompt. Like a motion sensor or something just as fancy as the rest of this place. You wonder how long it takes the army he no doubt employs for the task to trim and style the lawn. You almost understand why he was so finicky about his coffee. Almost. 

Yet that glimmer of defiance needles in the back of your head. If he's so rich and better than you, why wasn't he hitting some high end place where they infuse their coffee with diamonds or whatever? You suppose he might enjoy feeling like a giant as he walks among the anthills. 

Figuring out this man won't do you any good. Even if you could. None of that matters. You've stepped on his toes and he's not going to let yours go unstomped. 

He pulls in along a row of egregiously expensive luxury cars; one for seemingly every day of the week. It wouldn't surprise you. Well, you’re in such a stupefied state, nothing can. 

His seat belt repeals sharply and he swings open the driver's door. You jolt back and look around. Do you get out too? He slams the door and your doubt is quashed as he taps on the window with his knuckles.  

You undo your belt and feel around the door. Where the heck is the handle? These things have to be so sleek and sophisticated that you can never figure anything out. The door opens before you can find the release and you look up sheepishly at Lloyd.  

You get out and step aside as he shut the door with a flick of his wrist. You peer around and twiddle your thumbs. What exactly happens now? 

You stop short as he heads toward the stone steps along the house's facade. You're struck by a startling epiphany. He might be right about you in some ways. How did it take this long to realise?  

You've been abducted. 

He stops at the door and looks back at you, "look, honey bun, I'm getting fucking tired. Stop pussyfooting around and come on." 

"Um, sir, F--Lloyd," you put your hands up, "Mr. Hansen, so, when do I get to go home because this feels kinda... entrapment-y." 

"If I have to drag you," he snaps. 

"Alright, alright," you keep your palms put and scurry forward, "I'm just asking questions. It's been a strange day." 

"Fucking tell me about it," he mutters. "Ah, ah, sweet lips," he puts hisbarm out to block you from the front door, "rule one: beyond these doors, you're naked. That's it. Full access all the time." 

You double take. Full on Three Stooges pantomime. You nearly fall on your ass. 

"Wh-at?" Your voice catches. 

"If I have to keep repeating myself--" he warns. 

"But what if I get cold?" 

"Oh my fucking god," he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you to face him, "I should fucking break that jaw." 

He claws at your shirt and rips it up your body. You flinch with the force of his rude undressing. You squeak as he untangles your tee then shoves down your sweats, nearly taking your undies with them. He snaps the elastic with his index. 

"Everything, baby girl," he demands and glares at you, crossing his arms. His cheek twitches and his jaw squares. Without the lip fur he might be decent. 

You wiggle free of your pants and step out of them, then your panties. Your bra gives you some trouble as one of the hooks is bent. As you stand naked out in the summer breeze you feel strangle calm. It's kind of freeing. 

You look at him and find him eyeing you up and down; that's a little more oppressive. You make a face. "Shoes off or..." 

"Everything. Fuck, you gotta ruin it with that mouth," he barks and turns to strut through the door, "...drive me fucking insane...for what...pussy?" 

You stare after him and exhale, stepping over the threshold. A lot has happened and you still haven't got your head around it all. Maybe it's better that way.

[rustytrident]

mc's ultimate guide to visiting the devildom!!

a comprehensive guide to being an exchange student to the devildom by yours truly, mc.

ch: diavolo, barbatos, lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

cw: none (relationships between the characters are meant to be platonic, though i could make a nsfw version of this)

a/n: this is a long ass post ‼️‼️ i tried to be as objective as possible but idk if any biases came through. i also literally thought of this while i was cleaning my bathroom so the idea may be shitty,,, get it?? cause i was,,, cleaning my bathroom,,,, , , the idea may be shitty,,,,,, ,,,, okay so the punchline is that since i was cle-

lifestyle:

wear gloves. for everything

trust your sense of smell. if something smells too good or too bad, get the fuck away from it

write your name on the hem of your clothes

always check if something can be consumed by humans. trust me, you'd rather go hungry for a little longer than grow a limb from your stomach

don't look people in the eye when walking past them. stare straight ahead, shoulders square

learn who you can lie to and who you can't. trust your gut with that, though most demons have tells you'll need to learn

keep track of your health and request check ups from human doctors

generally, don't be afraid to ask for anything. you deserve nice experiences, as well as, ,,, yknow,,,,, checkups

take pictures of everything

don't touch books unless a trusted demon tells you it's okay

don't lose touch with your culture. implement it everywhere, from your room to your food to your music. teach your housemates all you know about it

remember you are surrounded by demons. don't tease them, don't tempt them (unless you have a pact or a pretty decent relationship with them)

the royal family:

the devildom is currently under monarchy. you will only interact with the prince, diavolo, and his butler, barbatos.

diavolo knows. he always has, he always will. don't lie to him

don't be too friendly with him for the first four months

absolutely be friendly with him after those four initial months

between us, he needs friends. and beings who don't treat him like he's fragile.

he likes games of any kind. use that to your advantage

barbatos seems scary, and he is. but you can trust him

do go over for tea if he invites you. he has an affinity for cooking and baking (mostly baking – teach him any cool recipes you may know!), and likes to serve whatever he makes with a warm cup of tea

do not, under any circumstances, even so much as mention anything about rats to him. for interworld peace

diavolo will always come first for him. don't test or question their bond, our brains are probably incapable of perceiving its magnitude

the king is just. there. but like, not even there. currently asleep

the queen is dead (unfortunately, this phrase is not seen as something positive in the devildom. don't ever say it)

the brothers:

probably the ones you'll be living with. then again, maybe not. part of the student council, and diavolo's closest companions (you'll be seeing a hearing a lot from them).

lucifer is... nice. once you get to know him. give him some time

he's very sad, very overworked. kinda like a wet cat with a family to feed. stroke his ego about twice a week and you'll be good

don't put up with what he says if it makes you uncomfortable, and don't be afraid to speak up. if you need backup, go to satan and/or belphegor

he loves music. if you want to get to know him better, ask him if he would like to talk to you about his favourite songs (they're most likely from cursed records, so listening to them is not an option)

mammon will most likely steal from you. again, put your name on everything, take pictures of everything.

the friendliest of all of them, along with beelzebub, and one of the most loyal ones

loud and a tsundere. don't ask how that works. also, very funny (laugh at his jokes even if you don't like them)

he doesn't know what boundaries are. set yours early and don't follow along with his schemes if you don't like them. he's got puppy eyes, don't fall for them

leviathan is an introvert, and antisocial. don't pressure him to talk to you.

if you're dead set in getting closer to him, do it through asking what game he's playing, or what anime he's watching. his interests are the only way he will open up

he will talk a lot if he likes the subject. he also knows every meme out there, so you can be free to say anything

he's very insecure, and will sometimes guilt trip you without realising. stay firm in your beliefs and be honest with him (do not anger him unless you know how to swim)

satan being the avatar of wrath shouldn't scare you. just don't mention anything good about lucifer during the first few months of you being there, and you'll be good

he likes books, and has learnt to be very open with his affections through them. if he likes you, you will know

again, he likes books. want him to like you? ask for recommendations, plots, ideas, poems. he's got you covered

he also loves cats. like, a lot. so if you're not the biggest reader it's time to be the biggest petter

asmodeus is touchy, but he never crosses any boundaries once they're clear to him. if you don't like physical touch, make it clear to him

the first being you should go to if you want to have any sort of physical relationship with someone there. it could be awkward to just... ask, but he's not held back by any prejudice, and would love to help

pay attention to him when he speaks. he may seem like too much sometimes, but he will be even more if you don't look him in the eye and nod (at least).

tell him he's beautiful, cause he is. and also cause who would call aphrodite themselves ugly like??

beelzebub is chill, for the most part. just don't disrespect his family or eat his food.

he's the number one demon to go to when you're having issues and want to vent it out. doubles as someone you could hug after and get a pat on the head from, but only if he's comfortable.

always have a snack in your pocket for him, you'll never regret it (but don't make it a regular thing)

he will eat anything. that is both a warning and a piece of advice.

belphegor can have a sharp tongue, so if you're sensitive it's better to either be vocal about not liking certain things he says or not be around him all together

very knowledgeable about the human world, probably the most out of all the brothers. go to him if you feel homesick

also a scholar. no he won't do your homework for you. yes he will pass every class even though he's asleep in all of them. just don't pick him as your study buddy.

doesn't hide his feelings well – you can tell what he's thinking about just by looking at him

enjoy your stay, little sheep~