#it's just always in the back of my mind now

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[maxv331]

✮ What happened to hello | Lando Norris ✮

Summary: Quick little drabbled based on all the speculation of Lando getting a bad haircut because he wore his hat so much at the Mexican GP

Warning: none :)

word count: 848

a/n: I haven't wrote in a long time so I'm pretty rusty, go easy on me! I also wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to wrap up the ending, so yeah, sorry for that!

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“Take the hat off Lando” You playfully demand with a squint of your eyes as soon as Lando’s face appears on your laptop screen. 

You’re currently on day 14 of being apart since Lando left for the triple-header and it’s eating you both alive. You haven’t been apart for longer than seven days at a time, in almost a year. Everyone around you, even the fans, call you two codependent, but really, you were just in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible. 

Between the time zone differences and you both working so much, you’ve found it difficult to spend much time together. You’ve found comfort in being able to keep up with Lando from all of the fan and official F1 content posted online. 

You’ve gotten a giggle out of all the speculation surrounding Lando’s hair. It started on the first media day in Mexico, when it appeared Lando had gotten a haircut, but his hat stayed on the entire day. 

The next day was when the rumors actually started, Lando hadn’t taken his hat off again and every fan you came across was freaking out and cracking jokes that Lando got a bad haircut and was embarrassed about it. 

Initially, aside from enjoying all the posts, you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming Lando was mostly wearing the hat because of the heat; but then you realized Lando hadn’t sent you any photos without the hat on, and the handful of late night facetimes you had, he was already in bed with his hoodie up and it was mostly dark. 

Whenever you and Lando are apart, you always made sure to keep each other still included in the day to day parts of your lives; you were always sending photos, videos and voice notes until you could facetime or be with each other again. 

Lando hadn’t changed your familiar routine, he just never had hair showing, which was a little odd, but nothing concerning. You admittingly missed the post shower selfies or the sweaty, messy haired, tired post race selfies. 

You’re instantly met with a giggle from Lando “What happened to hello baby.” Lando’s sat in his drivers room, he’d got a couple hours break between practice and qualifying and wanted to make the most of your shared free time to squeeze in a quick facetime with you.

“Hello baby” You grinned cheekily. “I’ve missed you so much, did you get a bad haircut?” You giggled 

Lando raised an eyebrow as another giggle slipped past his lips. “Did I get a bad haircut?” 

You nodded quickly “You haven’t taken your hat off the entire time you’ve been in Mexico, so show me”

“And how would you know that, hmm?” Lando asked with a smirk. Lando was initially confused, but now all he wanted was to play into the fun he was having. 

A bright rosy blush crept up your cheeks as you briefly glanced away from Lando on the screen. Lando’s now grinning mischievously, enjoying getting to tease you. “Do I need to talk to Osc or have you been creeping on me?” 

Before you even get a chance to answer, Lando starts giggling again and shaking his head. You pout and cross your arms. “A bad haircut is the only explanation for the hat and not getting my selfies”

“Your selfies?” Lando questions, once again raising an eyebrow. He knows exactly what selfies you’re talking about, but one thing about Lando Norris is that he loves to tease his girlfriend.

“I want my post race selfies back Lando” 

Lando smiles widely, taking a moment to take in all of your soft sweet features. Lando hadn’t intentionally been keeping anything from you, the few days he had been in Mexico had been busier than usual and it slipped his mind. “I’m sorry my love, I promise you’ll get one after quali”

“I better” You murmur, arms still crossed against your chest. You did miss the selfies, but you weren’t actually annoyed with him, in fact any feelings that even remotely resembled annoyance or hurt from the past few days all stem from a place of missing Lando. 

Lando knows you better than you know yourself, so he knows that if he doesn’t do something in the next few minutes, the call is going to take a sharp turn from playful and fun to somber and probably leave at least one of you in tears. Neither you or Lando were one to shy away from your emotions, but if Lando could hold off on it, until he could guarantee you his undivided love and attention, that's what he’s going to do. 

Lando winks at you, before taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “Is that better my love?”

A small gasp passes your lips, before you break out into the widest smile that Lando had seen in weeks. “Lando!” You squeal happily. “You look so handsome, why have you been hiding your hair?”

“I haven’t been hiding my hair, you doughnut,” Lando laughed. “It’s hot and I like my hat”

[p1utofairy]

★ WHICH COMIC BOOK COUPLE ARE YOU AND YOUR PERSON MOST LIKE?

NOTE — love and light my babies ⭐️🧿 take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. for entertainment purposes only. your feedback is always so greatly appreciated, enjoy!

— PILE 1.

channeled couple(s) → batman x catwoman + jean grey x cyclops.

your person is a very hands-on, actively involved and dynamic individual who thrives in fast-paced environments. they’re very resourceful and can turn a negative into a positive in the blink of an eye – a true problem solver if you will. they learn things/adapt quicker than most and i feel like a lot of people regard them as an amazing friend. your person is very inquisitive and always wants to know more. once they complete a task, they’re on to the next; it can be hard to pin them down for long periods of time. they might move around a lot physically (could have OCD) but i’m more so picking up that they’ve lived here, there and everywhere.

they’re always on the go! i’m also picking up that your person is a little bit of a control freak but gosh they can't help it; they truly love to lead and be of service. you’re gonna find this so hot lowkey lol which is funny because i think you typically go for someone that let’s you control things and have the upper hand but with this person it’s not like that. their sense of control is different though — it’s not possessive, like “you’re mine!” or “no, you can’t go out wearing that!” instead, it’s more about seeing you struggle with something and insisting on helping you with it. you might say, “no, i’ve got it,” but they’ll respond, “here, just let me…” you get frustrated because you just said you could handle it, but there they go, taking it from your hands and easing the stress and pain you were carrying. wow, that was such a descriptive scenerio but it just randomly came to me lol. it’s giving 6H energy!

11:11 on the clock i’m blushing hehe your person is super sweet and chivalrous it’s very charming, pile 1. don’t even get me started on their physique WHEW you’re gonna love their arms/biceps…your person might even have a lot of tattoos (i’m seeing sleeve tats) and i can just see you fighting the urge to playfully bite them lol. they could be very athletic and go to the gym a lot. now switching gears, the comic book couples that similarly mirrors your connection is jean grey x cyclops + batman and catwoman. some of y’all might be rolling your eyes at the mention of jean and scott (my wolverine girlies i’m talking to you) but HERE ME OUT and let me cook!

i feel like you’re more of a wanderer and don’t care to be as involved as your person is, if that makes sense? gypsy by fleetwood mac just started playing in my mind. trials and tribulations throughout your life might have caused you to turn inwards, and you feel unsure about what it is your supposed to be doing/where life is exactly taking you. your presence is more calm and still and your person is again, more hands on and out there. like jean grey, you are very clever and passionate but there’s a temperamental side to you. you might have strong air sign placements in your chart because i feel that you’re very rational about your emotions – sometimes to a fault. i think you hold back a lot of the times (especially when it comes to love) in fear of hurting other people’s feelings or just being misunderstood. some of you could have people-pleasing tendencies. your person gives that scott summers vibe because their actions are typically driven by a sense of duty rather than a desire to please others.

whether you know it or not, you wield a lot of power and sometimes i think people take your kindness for weakness. what your person is really going to admire about you is how intentional you are especially when it comes to giving/receiving love. you are so gentle and kind with your person – soooo doting and attentive. you two deadass have a telepathic connection cause when one person is feeling off, the other one can sense it. your person is also tryna be funny and say that you’re used to dealing with logans (wolverine) but they’re coming to change that. LMAOOOO your person is funny as fuck if you couldn’t already tell.

you both compliment each other so well, spiritually and physically. that’s why i also channeled batman x catwoman because y’alls vibe just gives that. y’all know those crazy ass tiktok/IG comments when people are like i need to see the tape PLS yeah…y’all evoke that reaction from people. you both find each other incredibly sexy like the sexual tension between you both is gonna be insaneeeee. i’m also sensing a bit of a bratty energy coming from your end in terms of the attention your person gets lol they might be very sought after. it’s reminding of the ending scene of ‘the batman’ when selena is urging batman to come with her and part of him is superrrr tempted but duty calls. i promise you that your person only wants you, though. like i’m being so deadass when i say that they’re literally gonna be devoted to you.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

“i work alone”, you might be used to the wolverine types but what you really need is a scott summers, back to black by amy winehouse, spotless mind by jhené aiko, maneater by nelly furtado, dylan, slayyyter, dua lipa, ESFJ, ISTJ, resemblance to callum turner, 333, sagittarius, 6H cancer, capricorn rising, 555.

— PILE 2.

channeled couple(s) → daredevil x elektra + rogue x gambit.

oooo right off the bat i’m hearing stand still by sabrina claudia. you’re so unaware that we're feeling, the same thing, the same damn thing…time is standing still and why are we still here? interesting, pile 2. very interesting! you and your person are more alike than you would think. from the outside you both appear very different, but energetically you both are sooo compatible. i’m hearing “from different worlds” and being drawn to the movie aladdin lol maybe that’s one of your favorite disney movies or your person’s? i think that’s why i was picking up on elektra x daredevil because it’s like…you and your person’s upbringing differed in a way but there’s a common ground in terms of how it’s shaped you both. one of you is more forward and hasty while the other is more reluctant and calculated.

you feel very confined and limited…like your environment is just so repetitive and boring. you’ve been hoping for something new to manifest – and you feel like you’re on the brink of it, it’s like you can almost reach out and touch it. for most of you, this is in regards to your connection with this person but for other’s it’s a job/traveling opportunity of some sort. you could possibly live in a very small town or somewhere that doesn’t have a lot to offer/keep you occupied. you’re about to see some progress sooner than you think, pile 2. give it about 1-3 months and watch how the magic happens! sagittarius season could be very significant for you.

your person is going to come into your life HOT and HEAVY, omg. you’re gonna be like wait wtf when did you get here?! nobody’s supposed to be here by deborah cox is playing in my head now – i’ve tried that love thing for the last time…my heart says no, no! nobody's supposed to be here…but you came along and changed my mind. LMAOOOO well pile 2 get ready cause your person is gonna sweep you off your damn feet. now it makes sense why i channeled rogue x gambit for you two because it’s like you’re taking of risk of some sort…the risk being your heart. trusting someone romantically is like risky business for you.

you’re so used to being able to predict outcomes and know what’s going to happen next, but with this person uhn uhn things are not so black and white. actually, there’s a lot of grey areas and that’s what’s going to scare you yet intrigue you about this person. you’re so rogue coded, awww. rogue has the ability to absorb the powers and memories of others through touch, so that makes her very guarded and reluctant to form close relationships. gambit is intrigued by her, but she is wary of him. i see this being similar to you and your person’s interactions…there might be an initial hesitation on your end but there’s an undeniable chemistry between the two of you!

your person is similar to gambit who is a smooth-talking, charming, and rough around the edges type of character. he’s very drawn to rogue’s beauty and strength (and similar to you) her self-imposed isolation and emotional baggage makes her hesitant to open up to him. i’m definitely picking up on the slow-burn trope for y’all, pile 2. although you really want this connection you might feel held back by self-doubt and fear intimacy/vulnerability. you’ve gotta work through this slowly but surely, my loves. it’s not easy but it’s necessary because this person absolutely loves you, pile 2. they’d put everything on the line for you if they had to.

just like gambit, this person will always be deeply in love with you no matter how much you try to shut them out or act like your feelings aren’t as deep as they really are. i also just want to mention that your person has such a way with words like UGH the way they say things/articulate themselves is gonna have you going feral lol they’re so knowledgeable and persuasive. it doesn’t help that they’re fine as fuck too lol you’re gonna be mentally shadow-boxing your anxiety whenever you’re around them because they’re just soooo damn charming fr!

i’m also being drawn to one of the biggest themes of rogue and gambit’s relationship which is rogue not being able to physically touch him without absorbing his memories and abilities – which is something that frightens her, not only because it could harm him but also because it’s something that strips away everything from the person she’s touching. now y’alls situation is obviously not that dramatic, but i am picking up that some of you that picked this pile could be virgins or celibate. i feel like the wait will make you both become even closer.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

you make wanna by usher, “i never thought this was possible”, bit of a wild card (no pun intended), fiery personality, leo/aquarius placements, you’re their best friend, love on the brain by rihanna.

— PILE 3.

channeled couple → wanda maximoff x vision.

you and your person are too stinkin’ cute, pile 3. lmaooo i know that sounds so corny and cheesy but your person puts you in this kind of mood. the sun is shining sooo bright as i’m writing this. it’s like you light up their life and vice versa. you remind them of a warm summer day at the beach where you’re free to just roam around, have ice cream and relax. you’re like a breath of fresh air for this person. your person can be extremely sappy (in the best way possible) like i see them randomly just grabbing you and spinning you around or twirling you lol they’re like…always in a good mood. they might like to sing or dance mhm i get the vibe that they have a CD collection like they really love music sooo much! they will love to cook for you as well awww they’re so considerate, pile 3. you guys are definitely giving that old school cutesy romantic 60s couple vibe for sure, i could cry!

i channeled wanda maximoff x vision for a reason i see. i feel like when you first meet your person you’re going to be going through alot in your own life and i’m not necessarily getting that it’s anything bad but it seems like you’re either working through something or towards something. this could be you confronting some childhood trauma and/or previous relationship baggage. it might also be that you're not quite where you imagined you'd be in life right now, or maybe you're feeling a bit unsure about your current path. whatever the reason, your person will likely sense that you're feeling a little lost, and they'll pick up on that shift in your energy. you might meet your person while you’re traveling or outside of wherever you live (i’m hearing out the country for some) and i see you two forming a very close friendship first. infrunami by steve lacy is coming to mind – girl, you're the one i want, you’re the one i need…i’m beggin' you, please. can you come back to me? 'cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me. hm for some of you this person could be a mutual or you somehow know them through your friends? if not, there just seems to be a sense of familiarity between the two of you.

i’m hearing “wow what a small world!” so tbh you could meet this person through one of your friends lol now i’m hearing best friend’s brother by victoria justice PLEASE that’s so random but on brand. also i’m picking up that your person could wear glasses? they are very inquisitive and can read you like a book, pile 3.

like vision, your person can pick up on your emotions, sensing when something is off even if you don’t express it. though vision is a synthezoid, his close connection to wanda and his time with the avengers allowed him to empathize deeply with human emotions. over time, his understanding of these feelings went beyond his programming, and his love for wanda amplified his ability to sense when she’s in distress. he offers comfort to her when she's struggling with her powers or grief. i feel like this relationship will be therapeutic for the both of you! you scratch their back, they’ll scratch yours.

you are similar to wanda in the sense that you can alter/create your reality – YOU have the power, but you have to believe it first. you doubt yourself a lot and create a lot of chaos within your mind because you can’t decide whether or not you should do something or if you’re even making the right decision. i think this has a lot to do with your childhood/upbringing, you stay in the shadows instead of being in the spotlight. that’s the problem, pile 3. i think you’re afraid of taking up space in fear of what others might say or think. there’s this sense of imposter syndrome. in order to bring this relationship into fruition you’ve gotta trust and believe in yourself, my loves. you’re an absolute badass – pop out and act like it! 10:10 on the clock. stop getting so caught up in the idea of what you think should be perfect. nothing and no one is perfect and ironically that’s the beauty of life lol shit ain’t always sweet and that’s okay. the world keeps spinning. it might not seem like it now but you will be more than okay, trust me! your person can’t wait to be in your orbit eeek i’m giddy at the thought of you two connecting. you don’t even realize it but your spirit guides are working overtime to make this connection happen hehe it starts with you though, babe. buckle up cause your person is ready. are you down to ride?

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

michael, breakfast at tiffany’s, NYC, month of may, one of the girls by the weeknd ft. lily rose depp & jennie, looks like MBJ, leo, 7H, 6H/virgo venus.

[eupheme]

okay but someone (you !!!) should write a cute little oneshot of that tik tok trend where you call logan your boyfriend (even though he’s your husband) and he is just not!!! happy!!! and all pouty about it !!!

ORRRRR (if not maybe both 👀) one where Logan is your boyfriend and you call him your husband and he just melts and is so happy to be around you and in your presence

everything you do is amazing!!! 💖💖💖

ooh hi hi anon! I’ve seen this trend and it’s so cute to think about Logan being like ‼️ about it - I did a little drabble for each scenario! I hope you like them! 💖 (and ahh, thank you so much!)

little games | logan howlett x f!reader

800 words | logan pov, fluff, possessive thoughts

After another long shift, your smile is all he needs.

Unable to help the tired curve of his lips as he hears your voice - the “hi honey” that you coo, from where you lean against the kitchen counter.

Phone tucked against your ear, a notebook and colorful pens splayed out in front of you.

“Sound goods, Saturday is great. Listen, I gotta go-,” Your attention pulls from him, though his eyes linger as he crouches - working on the laces of his boots.

Standing, just as he hears the rest of your goodbye.

“-my husband just got home.”

He almost trips.

Warmth floods through him, a cock of his head as he wonders if he misheard.

But his senses always had been keen.

“Mhmm.” You hum - as he slowly crosses the room. Coming up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist just as you wrap up your call.

Unable to help the tilt of his head - pressing his lips against your neck. Inhaling you, that pretty layer of scents that now linger in his home.

Something stirs, as he lets his mind run free.

“Yep,” You squirm, your hand layering over his, “See you then. Bye!”

He only gives you just enough space to twist yourself around. Still pinning you against the counter, his eyes darkened.

“Hi.” You smile, tipping your lips up to his, “Missed you.”

It’s murmured back, just as his mouth presses to yours. Sweet, when his tongue licks against your lip, his hands slipping up to cradle your jaw.

Letting himself imagine, for just a minute. Still quiet, when you pull away - the mark between his brow deepening.

Never one to beat around the bush, the words slipping before he can think too much about it.

“Called me your husband.” He husks, “You know that?”

He should catch that you’re not caught off-guard. That there’s almost a guilty flicker in your eye, before you’re inhaling a breath.

Head tilting to match his. His eyes dropping to where your tongue peeks out to wet your lip.

“Sorry, baby. Must have slipped up,” You shrug, shyly, “Did it bother you?”

The name curls in his chest, slipping around his ribs. Only adding to the flicker of desire, the soft warmth that’s settled beneath his skin.

“No.” He husks.

Dipping to kiss you again. Hips pressing flush, the curving ridge of his jeans indicating exactly how it made him feel.

“Not when it’s you saying it.”

Logan never really minds meeting the people you grew friendly with.

You attract them in a way he never did. Picking up the names of everyone in the apartment complex long before he does. The couple that live on the floor above. The old man and his dog three doors down.

Your hand patting his chest, as you stop to chat with an older woman at the base of the stairs.

“You remember Logan, right?” You ask her, “My boyfriend.”

And suddenly, he minds. Head whipping towards you so quickly his neck almost cracks.

Eyebrow arching as the women - Gladys - coos over them, the words petering out to white noise as he frowns.

“Husband.” Logan cuts in, gruffly - the gold glinting off his finger as he reaches out to shake her hand.

You giggle. Gladys only exclaims - and it’s all he can do to keep his jaw from clenching so hard his teeth crack.

A hand at your back, already guiding you towards the apartment before your goodbyes are finished. Backing you against the door the second it’s shut, as you blink up at him.

“Tryin’ to be cute?” He asks - and he can hear the edge in his voice, “Another one of your little games?”

Knows he hit the nail on the head when your teeth sink into your lip. Biting back a smile, as your voice pitches up.

“What do you mean?”

He huffs. Hands flattening against the wood - seeing how your eyes go wide as he leans in.

“Calling me your boyfriend.” Logan grits out, “When we both know how fucking eager you were to take my name.”

How wet it makes you, when he has you beneath him. Fingers entwined, a matching ring around yours.

There’s hunger in your eyes. His lips ghosting against yours - pulling away just as you lean to kiss him.

“Uh-uh.” His head shakes, “What am I?”

You pout, but he only hums - expectant. Possessive.

Logan’s voice dropping low.

“Come on, baby.” He coaxes, “Lemme hear you say it.”

Your scent blooms sweet, and he almost groans. Lets your lips press against his this time, your answer breathed out.

“My husband.”

“That’s my girl.” He smirks.

Kissing you soundly, then.

Already imaging how the cool press of his ring will feel when he’s got three fingers buried deep inside you.

Maybe then you won’t ‘forget’.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud IX

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: After the preseason against Barcelona

Someone is watching you.

It's nothing you can prove, of course. It's nothing you really care that much about either.

You've just managed to draw against Barcelona in a preseason friendly. Of course there would be someone watching. A lot of someones actually but you don't find yourself minding too much as you head over to your parents.

They're on the far side of the pitch, waving to the very few Spanish Bayern fans that have come out to watch the team play.

You wiggle your way between them and Magda's arm automatically comes to rest on your shoulder. She angles her face towards you slightly, a smile on her face as she presses a quick kiss to your hairline.

Pernille takes your hand on the other side and you smile at her, leaning your head against her shoulder.

It feels good to demonstrate your skills.

In front of your new teammates. In front of your new manager. In front of Barcelona, to make them worry when you're on the pitch, to show them they aren't as bulletproof as the fans think they are.

But, right now, all you can do is smile as your sign things for the very few Bayern fans that have come over to watch your team play for them.

"You did very well today," Pernille says to you, squeezing your hand softly.

"Enough for a lamb?"

"You know the rules," Pernille replies with practiced exasperation," You'll have to really impress. Show me you can really care for one."

You huff, putting on a bit of a show.

This is a practiced dance between you and Pernille, a more playful back and forth now that you've moved to Germany. Pernille pretends that she's more opposed to getting a sweet lamb than she actually is and you pretend to be more annoyed than you actually are that you're being refused.

"Oh come on, Pernille!" Magda says from your other side," I really think she's deserved it!"

Magda's also apart of all this teasing. She backs you up, insists that you've already proven yourself despite having never had a pet in your life. The extent of your animal caring abilities is filling up the bird feeder in the garden.

Of course, you've also got that little binder you made a few years ago with how to take care of lambs and sheep and when to sheer them and what to feed them and how you can make them happy.

Pernille had made you make it after she realised you were serious about raising a lamb for yourself.

You update it every so often, just to show her that this isn't something that you've forgotten about.

Arms close around your waist and you shriek as you're lifted into the air.

You can hear Pernille and Magda laugh as you're hoisted up and you flail your legs around when you're airborne for too long.

"Frido!" You shriek," Let me down!"

Frido shakes you, using her height difference against you before unceremoniously dumping you onto the ground.

You roll onto your back, panting with a smile as you look up at her. "That was mean."

"What has the world come to?" She asks no one in particular," That an aunt can't pick up and shake her little niece anymore?"

"I'm not little."

She grins down at you. "I remember you before your growth spurt," She says," You'll always be my little niece."

Frido offers you a hand.

You take it and pull her down.

She shrieks at the sudden force of your pull and falls onto the grass next to you.

You laugh, letting Pernille help you up and dust the dirt off your shirt.

Frido does the same with her own clothes, flicking a stray piece of grass at you that you bat away easily.

"Good game," She says, ruffling your hair," You had us on our toes."

"Just..." You glance behind you, feeling that same prickly feeling of eyes on your back," Just wanted to impress."

"Well, you certainly did that." Frido leans closer, like she's about to tell you a secret. "But I don't think it's just on who you wanted to watch you."

She jerks her chin over your shoulder and you follow her gaze.

Alexia Putellas is by the bench, talking and gesturing wildly over at you to the new Barcelona manager. You don't quite remember his name but you know what he looks like and even from this far of a distance away, you know he's looking straight at you.

"Best hope Bayern put a big price on her release clause," Frido says to your mothers and you feel Magda freeze behind you.

Her mouth dry, she speaks. "What?"

"Just saying," Frido laughs," A performance like that? In preseason? At a club she's just moved to? You and I both know she's a talent. Alexia doesn't really enjoy talents like that outside of Barcelona."

Magda pulls your back against her front, arms hanging over your shoulders. "They can't have her. She's a minor. They need our permission."

"She'll be eighteen soon," Frido reminds Magda.

"Still. They can't force her to come. I won't let them. I just got her back."

"We just got her back," Pernille corrects.

"Besides," You laugh," Momma won't even let me get a lamb yet. I don't think she'll be too happy sending me off to Spain."

Frido laughs, ruffling your hair again. "I think you'll find Barcelona can be quite persuasive when they need to be. How else do you think we got Ewa with us?"

"Dumb luck?"

Frido gasps dramatically. "You know what, young lady? Come here!"

She reaches for you and you duck out of the way, sprinting across the pitch out of her reach.

"You're getting old!" You shout over your shoulder, ducking and weaving through players and staff alike. "Aren't you meant to be a professional athlete?"

You jump over a crate of drinks as Frido trips over them.

You laugh, leaving her in the dirt as another hand reaches for your own.

"Aren't you tired?" Ingrid asks you," You've just played ninety minutes."

You know Ingrid quite well considering you've never played on a team with her.

Pernille and Frido have introduced you two a lot over the years. She's nice to see, someone who is not family but just as nice as them.

"I'm never too tired to humiliate Frido," You answer, turning to look back as Pernille helps Frido up while Magda howls with laughter.

Ingrid rolls her eyes fondly at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Have you met Esmee before? I can't remember."

Either way, Ingrid introduces you to Esmee, who seems nice enough, if a little shy. You can imagine you and her getting on once you're both settled with each other.

"Of course, you know Mapi a bit and this is Aitana. Aitana, this is y/n. She's Magda and Pernille's daughter, Frido's niece."

"Daughter?" The look Aitana wears on her face is one you're always used to when regarding your parentage.

"Adopted," You confirm with a nod. It's always better to explain now than have to deal with the awkward questions as people try to tread around the minefield that's your family situation.

She nods once before speaking. "Do you want to swap shirts?"

"Oh! Er..." You glance behind you where your family is (thankfully) keeping their distance. Still within earshot but not enough to invite themselves into the conversation.

Both of your mothers stick their thumbs up at you.

"Yeah...okay, then."

Like you thought, you and Esmee do get on. You reckon that you wearing a Barcelona shirt (Aitana's Barcelona shirt, you think in the back of your mind) must have settled her a bit. Familiar people with the one unfamiliar one wearing a very familiar colours.

She's nice and speaks well and you almost forget about the prickling feeling of someone watching you until that someone is right behind you.

The little circle you've found yourself in opens up and Alexia Putellas slides into the now empty spot next to you.

Magda moves to approach as well but Pernille holds her back by the back of the shirt.

"Pernille-"

"Let her deal with it," Pernille says," However she wants to do it. We can't coddle her for her whole life."

Magda pouts. "We can try."

"Magda," Pernille continues," She's much more capable than you like to think."

You hope that your eyes aren't as wide in shock as you think they are. it would be embarrassing for Alexia Putellas to remember that expression as the one you wore when you first met her.

"You had a good game," She says to you and you feel your throat go dry.

You force words out anyway. "Th-Thank you."

"A great game, actually," Alexia continues," You're very talented."

"Thank you."

You feel like a broken record, incapable of saying nothing but the same thing over and over again.

"How long have you got on your Bayern contract?"

"Two-Two years."

"Two years? Not three? Or four? For someone of your talent..."

"Oh, er, well, it's meant to finish the same time as my mothers' do."

"Harder and Eriksson's kid, aren't you?"

"And Frido's niece," Ingrid puts in and Alexia nods.

"I thought so. She's never had anything but compliments for you. You used to play for Arsenal as well, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you joined Sweden for their Euro qualifiers as well. It's nice to see that young talent is being fostered so well."

You laugh a little awkwardly. "Oh, well, I'm not really anything special."

The look Alexia gives you makes it clear she thinks differently. She doesn't refute your claim though, just purses her lips in thought.

"Barcelona has always been good at noticing young talent and putting our faith in them."

"Oh?"

She smiles at you. "Just something to think about. Have you got the same managers as your mothers?"

You nod. "Yeah, Morsa...Er...Magda and I have the same person."

"Excellent." She claps a hand down onto your shoulder. "You should probably warn them about something coming their way soon after that performance today. I hope to see you on the pitch again soon."

With that, Alexia Putellas walks away, right back down the tunnels and you're left hopelessly looking back at her.

You turn back to the little group around you, a group that your family has finally joined again.

"Sorry...What just happened?"

Frido laughs, a casual arm flung over your shoulder.

"That was Alexia speak for 'Barcelona will be trying to buy you from Bayern soon'."

Magda swears. "For fuck's sake!"

[gloomwitchwrites]

LOVED the sit down fics. Please consider: US telling THEM to sit down. What are they going to do? Argue and sleep on the couch? (Love your works!! Always makes my day when I see a new one)

AHHHHHHHHH! ANON OMG! I love this. I giggled and kicked my feet the entire time I was working on these. I had so much fun jumping back into the Imagines Series after Kinktober with this prompt. While I'm still working through the 3.5k Spooky Bingo event, I am returning to my usual content.

For those curious, THIS is the fic that Anon is referring to.

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, flirting, arguments, swearing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“John. We have to talk about this.”

“We are talking.”

“No. We’re arguing. And you’re not listening.”

“Of course I’m listening, love.”

“Then what did I just say?” you ask, exasperated.

John opens his mouth and then pauses. He loses steam, the gears turning as he realizes he’s wrong. He takes a deep breath and then holds up his hands. “If I’m being honest, love—”

“Fuck. Sit down, John.”

Your tone is sharp, and John drops into a chair, completely silent, his gaze locked in on you.

“If you are not going to listen to me, then I’m ending this discussion. We can come back to this later. When we’re calm.”

John is always the steady one. He’s your rock, but for whatever reason, this one discussion has transformed into an argument.

There is silence after, and you have no idea what John thinks of your sudden authoritative demeanor. His face is blank, and then his mouth turns up into an amused smile.

“What?” you ask, suddenly flustered.

John relaxes into the chair, spreading his thighs wide in invitation. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re angry, love.”

“Don’t distract me, John,” you mutter, the irritation beginning to melt away.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"We're having this out," says Kyle, grabbing your upper arm. He tugs you against him, head tipping forward in an intimate gesture.

"I don't want to argue with you," you reply.

"And I'm not done." His tone is calm but firm. Whenever Kyle sets his mind to something, it can be difficult for him to change course.

"Well, I am." Kyle's hold on your upper arm tightens a bit. It's not painful, but he draws you closer. "Now, sit down."

"Wha—"

"Sit. Down."

Kyle draws back, startled. His hold loosens and descends to grasp your wrist as he sinks onto the sofa. You rarely assert yourself, but you're frustrated with him.

“I am done fighting about this. Either we find a compromise, or we end this discussion.” Kyle breathes deep, his gaze intense as you continue. “You can sleep out here if you won’t budge.”

“I sleep beside you,” replies Kyle.

“Then talk to me. Don’t push me around.”

Kyle’s hand on your wrist softens, his thumb gently caressing the inside of your palm. It makes you shiver, and Kyle pulls you closer. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, voice soothing.

"Can we talk now? No fighting?"

"No fighting," he agrees.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Irritation bubbles under your skin, creating a buzzing sensation that puts you on edge. You and Simon rarely fight but the two of you always circle back to the same issue.

“I’m sick of talking in circles. We have to figure this out.”

The corner of Simon’s mouth twitches. “I’ve already told you how I feel about it,” he says.

“I understand but we have to find a compromise.”

“I’m not willing to budge on this.”

“Simon—"

He pushes in, invading your space. “You’re the one that’s undecided.”

You hate being bossed around, and you hate it more when Simon flaunts his dominance during a disagreement.

“Sit down,” you growl.

Simon blinks, startled. “What?”

“Sit. Down.”

Simon’s gaze narrows, the middle of his brow creasing. But he sits, settling on the sofa.

“I understand how you feel but I need you to listen to how I’m feeling. This is a big decision, and I want us to talk through things. I’m not just going to bend over and take it.”

“But you like it when I bend you over.”

“Simon Riley!”

Simon smirks “Need to let out a little steam?”

“Yes,” you mutter, flustered. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Arguments with Johnny almost always end in sex.

He’ll use his tongue, his fingers, and then eventually his dick until you’re blissfully fucked out of your head.

“You are not distracting me,” you say sharply as Johnny moves in, a sly smile on his face.

His hands settle on your waist, gripping tightly. You know if you don’t get a handle on this now, you’ll be face down in the bed with ass in the air in moments. It’s Johnny’s favorite position.

Placing your hands on Johnny’s chest, you give him a bit of a shove, creating space. “Sit down, Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyebrows rise suggestively. With a sauntering sway, Johnny sits on the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless and wearing grey sweatpants. They hang dangerously low on his hips.

You cover your eyes. “We need to have a conversation that doesn’t end in sex.”

“I don’t see the issue.”

“Of course you don’t,” you mutter.

“I like it when you boss me around.” You can feel his heat just before his arms slide around you.

“Oh my God,” you groan, pushing at his chest. “Sit down.”

Johnny teasingly nips at your neck. “Only if you sit in my lap.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[beloveds-embrace]

so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind

Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh

Original post

But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.

And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)

But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.

“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.

“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”

And at last… “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.

Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.

“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”

You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.

“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”

“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”

Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.

[marta-bee]

This reminds me of one of my favorite passages in the Lord of the Rings book. I'm not sure it's specifically what PJ meant to adapt in that (also beautiful) movie scene, but my mind always connected it. I'll put it below the cut.

Hope is so crucial, not just the emotion but the mental act. The will to imagine things could still be better, and to reach out for it. I think I need a few days at least before I can try for it in reality, but it did me good to be reminded about it. As Gandalf says, despair is only for those who know the end beyond all doubt, and I'm nowhere near smart enough for that.

From The Lord of the Rings:

There they sat and made such a meal as they could. Keeping back the precious lembas for the evil days ahead, they ate the half of what remained in Sam’s bag of Faramir’s provision: some dried fruit, and a small slip of cured meat; and they sipped some water. They had drunk again from the pools in the valley, but they were very thirsty again. There was a bitter tang in the air of Mordor that dried the mouth. When Sam thought of water even his hopeful spirit quailed. Beyond the Morgai there was the dreadful plain of Gorgoroth to cross. ‘Now you go to sleep first, Mr. Frodo,’ he said. ‘It’s getting dark again. I reckon this day is nearly over.’ Frodo sighed and was asleep almost before the words were spoken. Sam struggled with his own weariness, and he took Frodo’s hand; and there he sat silent till deep night fell. Then at last, to keep himself awake, he crawled from the hiding-place and looked out. The land seemed full of creaking and cracking and sly noises, but there was no sound of voice or of foot. Far above the Ephel Dúath in the West the night-sky was still dim and pale. There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. His song in the Tower had been defiance rather than hope; for then he was thinking of himself. Now, for a moment, his own fate, and even his masters, ceased to trouble him. He crawled back into the brambles and laid himself by Frodo’s side, and putting away all fear he cast himself into a deep untroubled sleep.

[jackmanwife]

Professor!Logan has always been professional, but you can’t ignore the way he looks at you during his lectures anymore. It’s subtle— a look that lingers on for far too long when you raise your hand or a small smile when you answer a question correctly— but it’s enough to make your cheeks grow hot. He leaves you little notes on the papers he turns back to you, too, and you save every last one of them. Study material. “You're smarter than most of my other students,” he praises, but you just giggle out a small "Thank you."

Professor!Logan is starting to catch on. Sitting in the front row, you're doing all sorts of things to catch his attention. Twirling your hair around your finger a little, biting the tip of your pen, crossing and uncrossing your legs. When he looks your way, you make sure to hold his stare, letting your eyes drop to his lips before flashing a small smile. After class, he orders you to stay behind, but you know this isn’t about the paper you turned in. “You’re not just interested in the material, are you, sweetheart?” When he walks around his desk, he doesn’t sit. Instead, he stands in front of you, towering, and you look up at him, keeping your eyes on his. “You’ve been distractin’ me for a while,” He steps closer, and your back presses against his desk, “You want me to show you what happens when I stop holdin’ back, darlin’?” His hand slides up your thigh, fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt, teasingly close to where you’ve been needing him all this time.

Professor!Logan knows you're back for more. He’s got his reading glasses perched on his nose, running his hands through the stack of papers in front of him, “This couldn’t wait until office hours?” he asks, not looking up as he marks a paper and flips to the next one. You take a slow step forward, shrugging, “No, I…” He looks up now, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I wanted some extra help.” Logan’s eyes narrow slightly. You swallowed, “I just need to understand the material you taught today better,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your voice wavered. Logan chuckles softly, lips curling into a smirk, “Is that so, darlin’? Because from where I’m sitting, it seems like you’ve got a…” His eyes take you in, looking you up and down, “different kind of help in mind.”

Professor!Logan is usually calling you back to his office after a long lecture. You’re sitting on his desk, legs dangling over the edge as he stands between them, his hands running up your thighs. “You sure you understood everything, sweets?” His lips brush against your ear before he presses a kiss onto it. One of his large hands slips around your waist, his fingers pressed firmly on your back, pulling you closer to him. You nod, leaning into his touch. “That’s good,” his thumb brushes gently over your cheek as he tilts your face up to his, “Been thinking about you all day, you know that?” He murmurs. You nod again, barely able to find your voice as his thumb brushes over your lip, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s just started.

Professor!Logan likes to keep you around now. You walk down the hallway to his office, a hot cup of coffee in your hand. You noticed the light still on under his door and couldn’t help but think about him working alone, grading papers into the early hours. Knocking softly, you step inside when you hear his short “Come in.” When you do, Logan looks up from his laptop, brows raised in surprise before they rest as he smiles. “What’re you doin’ here this late, darlin’?” He sounded so tired. You hold out the cup, and he takes it from you, his hand lingering on yours. “Thought you could use this,” you murmur, watching as he takes a sip, his eyes never leaving yours. He sets the cup down on his desk and shakes his head, “Always lookin’ out for me, huh? Come here,” he pats his open lap, “Keep me company for a while.”

[fatuismooches]

Dottore and his segments get a taste of their own medicine after giving you a job of your own. (In other words, you ignore their need for attention in favor of your work, they get pouty, just like you did.)

As of late, a peculiar sight had made its way into the lab. Actually, peculiar wasn't even strong enough of a word for the agents to use. They had nearly tripped over their feet once they saw the new area of their working quarters in the lab.

In addition to their Lord Harbinger's desk (that was shared amongst the segments depending on the day), there was now another desk on the opposite side of the room, and the cute decorations on it were quite noticeable. Photo frames and stationery. A comfortable and plush chair with a blanket that dropped over it.

... A plushie version of the Harbinger that laid on Dottore's desk, commissioned by you to motivate him.

(A side thought - the number of desks the Doctor had was something to wonder about. One in the lab, one in the office, one in the bedroom - no wonder things were always scattered around the place. But that was something for another day...)

And most importantly, you, Dottore's spouse, standing next to their Lord, rocking back on your heels nervously as he introduced you as their new co-worker.

—

It all began when you approached your husband with a very simple request.

"Dottie, I want a job!" You said with enthusiasm, smile as wide and proud as ever. The scientist paused his work and turned to look at you with a blank expression.

"... A job, you say?" You only puffed your chest out more at his confirmation.

"Yes, a job. I mean, being your lover is already a lot of work for my poor back, but I want to actually work with you! With your research and stuff, like the old days!" Your excitement was completely serious and were it not for your health, it would have been infectious for the scholar. Rarely did he ever meet anyone who was truly interested in his work. But of course, certain restrictions have held you back for a long time now.

"We've already been over this. My work is too dangerous for you," the Doctor sighed as he turned back around to continue whatever he was doing.

"I know, I know, but I meant other kinds of stuff. I've been thinking like... a desk job! It doesn't have to be anything dangerous! I could... sort papers for you? Oh, and you have one of those fancy stamps, right? I could stamp them too! I could rewrite your notes... ah, and the best part - I could help you write reports too! You always liked my essays, didn't you?" You were doing your best to provide Dottore with a convincing case, snuggling up against his firm back. Only another sigh escaped your husband, not really that convinced.

"Come on..." you inhaled his familiar scent, tinged with that laboratory smell that never seemed to go away, but somehow brought comfort to you. "I've been so bored lately... and lonely," you muttered the last part pointedly. "I just want some work to take my mind off things!"

Indeed, there was always limited entertainment and pastimes to occupy yourself with. It was especially boring on days you couldn't get out of bed, or when no segment could afford you attention...

"And you know what, I could give those agents of yours some writing tips, too!"

Yes, there had been many times his employees were not up to his standards, despite how many of them fawned over him (for some odd reason)...

"And I'll be helping you too! It's good for everyone."

Of course, you always felt rather good about yourself if you managed to help him, being the Second Harbinger and all...

"I suppose I shall give it some thought-" Before the man could finish his sentence you started squeezing him tightly while hopping in delight.

"Oh, thank you! So, when do I start? Do I get one of your huge desks too?"

"I didn't say yes yet, darling."

"Shh... we both know what you mean!"

—

And that was how you now clocked in at "work" every day with the agents (later than normal, but you had special privileges.) It was daunting at first for the poor souls, even the ones who secretly admired you from afar (being in the fan club and all.) Even though initially you were merely sorting papers, you were the most important person in that room.

However, soon enough, going to work in this dreary lab became a lot more cheery thanks to your sweet demeanor. Somehow, the atmosphere had become a lot less tense since the last time the segments visited.

The agents had little to no problem speaking to you like a normal person, after you had graciously given them tips on impressing the Harbinger.

"Psst..." you were hovering behind an unsuspecting agent, reading the report she had for Dottore, who jumped at your whisper. "You know, he might click his tongue if you give him that." Although her mask covered her face, you could see that half surprised at how you popped out of nowhere, and half agreeing with your words. Perhaps she felt comfortable enough to spill the situation to you.

"I-I am well aware of that," she deeply sighed, "but no matter what I write, my Lord always seems to be unsatisfied..." You patted her shoulder in sympathy. Having worked with Dottore since the Akademiya days, you knew very well of his distaste for certain things.

"Well, that's why I was hired, friend! To make his and your life easier! See, look here, that's a no-no, he wouldn't appreciate those details, mhm, but this needs to be elaborated on more, uh huh..." Of course, being the good spouse and employee you were, the report was converted into the best one that had ever landed on the Doctor's desk.

On your lunch break, they provided you with some juicy gossip about anything they could get their hands on (the fan club had long reaches, apparently.) Frequently you had to debunk things about Dottore... (the handbook was swiftly revised.)

Needless to say, things seemed to be going well. You looked happier. Motivated. Having new "friends" as your company (that still watched their mouth around you after a single glance from the segments.)

However... an issue arose after a while. One that seemed entirely stupid and impossible.

Now that you were so caught up in your work, when the segments finally had some spare time to come to you, they were... rejected. Yes, they had come to you, fully expecting your devoted attention and kisses that you always gave them without hesitation, but now turned away. (Even more embarrassing, sometimes in front of the agents who kept their eyes glued to their strange chemicals.)

—

It was Omega, of all segments, who was turned away first. The most confident and charming of the bunch left uncharacteristically silent. He had come up behind you and traced his hands against your neck, always being the one who had no shame in touching you. You only softly giggled at the sensation and caught his hand in yours.

"It seems you've been busy for a while, dear." In truth, it was mostly you seeking him out and not vice versa, but the segment hadn't seen you invading his office in a while. The space had gotten too quiet without you.

"Mhm! But I can't imagine how much work you do. My desk is nowhere as cluttered as yours," you smiled as you felt the segment kiss your lashes.

"What do you say to a break with me?" Omega offered, already knowing what your eager response would be.

"Nah, I can't right now."

...

Your words took a few seconds to process through his head.

"Pardon?"

"I have all this work, 'Mega, and other people need my help," you shrugged your shoulders as you swung your legs. "But don't worry. I'm sure we can spend some time later!" You kissed him on the cheek and pulled your chair in before continuing your work.

Omega, the greatest segment, was reduced to a blankly staring man who had been deprived of his lover's attention for the first time.

He was irritable for the rest of the day.

—

Beta was next, the poor thing.

You were always the one he blew off steam to, always willing to listen about his gripes and complaints, offering him consolation in the form of kisses and soft words.

However, you hadn't come to visit in so long, the segment was all pent up and now the agents were beginning to fall victim to him.

Fine then - he'd seek you out. Not because he needed you or missed you or anything of the sort. You were just... halting his progress with the lack of your presence. Yes, that was it.

And so the scientist, donning his grand pink bow tie, swung by your desk.

"So this is where you've been? How boring." Beta was not a segment that you'd want to do paperwork. He much preferred to be hands-on.

"Ah, Beta!" You brightened in delight at seeing one of your lovers. "I missed you!" At least you were always honest about your feelings.

... But to cut a long story short, Beta faced the same conundrum that Omega did.

Someone got turned into a floating Ruin Machine that day.

—

By now all the segments had experienced being turned away from work. Alpha's signature scowl had become permanent. Zandy was pouting the whole day as he missed his parent. Foxttore kept to himself with a pathetic sopping wet eye. His segments were fighting with each other inside his mind, a great nuisance.

All because you were too absorbed with your work to pay them any attention.

... The Doctor was now realizing that it sounded like a very familiar tune sung by you. So this was what you felt for days on end? Now, it was easier for him to understand why you were always upset if you were ignored too much.

Still, it was mortifyingly embarrassing that his segments were reduced to this pitiful state just because you rejected cuddles a few times. Regardless, it was up to him to solve the issue. After all... he missed you too. He wanted you to be around him more often again.

And so the Doctor made his way to his beloved.

There you were, all cozy on your seat as you sorted through some papers. Really, he had no clue you'd be this productive, to be honest. At least it was proof that your health hadn't gotten worse, considering how well you were handling this.

"Aren't you the one who kept saying to take breaks?" His voice made you jump a bit, having not heard him walk up.

"It's you, Dottie! I was wondering when you'd come around. And of course, I take breaks, Dottore. I have lunch with the other agents!" Ah, another party that's been hogging your attention.

"You know, this job has been pretty fun, Dottore! Everyone's real nice, we make jokes, I get to write about interesting things..." You continued to go on about the research and while usually he'd be intrigued by your findings, this time he had enough.

Dottore picked you up like a long cat as you squealed from the sudden grasping.

"What are you doing?!"

"You're coming with me," was his cut and dry response as he lifted you into his arms.

"B-But I have to work on the big report for Pantalone!" Dottore's eye twitched at the mention of the banker.

"Someone else can."

"But I-"

"I'm not listening to anything you say further," he plainly said as he walked with you cuddled into his chest as you gawked at him.

Could he be... jealous? A wee bit lonely? You kept your guesses to yourself as he eventually bought you back to his room and laid you on his bed, not even saying anything to you before sitting at his desk.

Did he simply miss your presence that much? You felt a bit bad neglecting your lovers that much. But to be fair, they kinda did the same... sometimes. You got up to console your silly husband, who was just a man in your hands.

"Hey... I missed you too, dear husband... but I had to make sure no one stole the title of best assistant from me!" Dottore only sighed at your foolishness.

Of course no one could ever replace you.

"I know you'd rather die than admit it... but don't worry. You're lucky I'm sensitive to your feelings," you teased as you kissed the top of his mask. "I'll pay more attention to you and the segments, before they cause another headache for you, love. You'll give me some vacation time off, right?"

You laughed at your own joke before Dottore pulled you into his lap, biting down hard on your neck.

—

"Beloved, would you care to join me in discussing your work?"

"You fool, they're obviously coming to my lab to activate a new Ruin Machine."

"But [Name] is supposed to play with me today!!"

"As if, they're far too busy to join you all with your silly games."

"You all will stress them out with this arguing. Now, why don't you join me instead for a cup of coffee instead?"

"Grr, gr gr, grr!"

It was good to be loved so deeply.

[joannasprose]

ellie williams x nervous!reader

content warning: slight insecurity, a nervous girl who doesn’t know what to do with herself, fluff, comfort (as always), vague angst, proofread this time! (proofread but not edited, sorry I’m lazy!)

note: I found this in my drafts, I didn’t even know I made something like this and decided to post it :) also you can thank my mind (in good ways and bad), because I have another Ellie post that will be ready soon 👀 trying so badly not to post back to back though 💜 (this one is a little rushed and not as good as my others because I completely forgot what it was about 🫡)

| ellie can tell that there’s something up with you. when you finally tell her, she can’t help but be slightly amused.

———

ellie’s hand has yet to leave the small of your back. as the two of you walk through the unfamiliar bar, you cling onto her a little more tightly.

she watches you—unbeknownst to you—as your brows furrow, as you begin to chew the flesh of your cheek. “you okay,” she questions, now leading you over to what you assumed to be the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind you.

her hand moves slowly to the side of your waist, pulling you closely towards her, holding you gently. you smile, a nervous one as your arms nervously wrap around the sides of her shoulders and loop around her. “yeah. i’m okay, i’m just…” but you’ve stopped yourself.

it had now been four months since both you and ellie had started dating. even then, before she knew of your feelings—her actions had never failed to make you nervous. sure, she had her moments where she would stumble over her words while a rosy hue coated her cheeks. but the moment she had figured you out, the teasing became relentless. not that you minded it, though.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” you say, eyes once leaving every inch of her figure and darting to the tiled floors, the decorative picture frames—anything but her.

“Y/N,” ellie says, the softness of her eyes never leaving as she spoke, “tell me what’s on your mind. you know I won’t judge.” her hand abandons your waist, now grazing over the skin of your cheek, holding you gently.

“It’s stupid. It’s nothing really,” you begin. this time ellie doesn’t interrupt, practically forcing you continue on with your ramble. “the people. they make me nervous. and you—“ you say but interrupt yourself. you almost don’t see it. the way ellie’s eyes flicker in guilt, the way her grip on you loosens subtly, as if to free you from the overwhelming feeling of her presence.

“no-no. that’s not what I meant.” you say as you scramble for words. abruptly, you pull her closer to you, a tightening hug that she embraces with you when the feeling subsides. slightly.

“you just. when I’m around you, I don’t know what to do with myself. you make me nervous, it’s just embarrassing. and yeah, I know we’ve been dating for a couple of months now,” ellie watches as you continue with your ramble, the words falling from your tongue mindlessly. she just waits, watches, “but I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

ellie pauses, and she looks at you, pulling away just to see your face. you look away, eyes finding the hem of her shirt but she pulls her hand to your cheek, making you look at her now. “I make you nervous?” even if you hadn’t looked at her, you could practically hear the smile on her lips. you push her away, now embarrassed.

“ellie, stop,” you say, dragging out the letter p when you say it. You try to sound irritated, but you find yourself fighting away a smile.

“What? I like seeing my girl smile,” she begins, grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to her as the music from the house becomes distorted, slowing becoming nothing but background noise. “And, I don’t want you worrying about anything okay?” ellie backtracks, nearly cringing at her words, “not that, I could just make you not worry, you know? Like I’m not forcing you or anything. I hope it didn’t come out that way.” this time, you find comfort in ellie’s loosely put words.

And as you smile, when you smile, she stops, watching you like she always has.

“It’s okay ellie. I get it.” You pull her closer to you, and this time you don’t hesitate when you push your lips against hers. for a moment, her lips are still, presumably in slight shock—but she quickly recuperates and kisses you back.

after a moment, you pull away and speaks, “you’re not shy anymore? you can kiss me now?”

you shove ellie playfully away from you, muttering asshole, under your breath.

In the height of the night, even with your undying anxiety, you’d always known ellie would be there to comfort you no matter what.



[solvicrafts]

This is a hard truth that a lot of people don't want to hear, that there needs to be a balance between holding men accountable for their behavior, pointing out injustices that they benefit from, and at the same time encouraging them to learn and grow.

And this goes for any group of people, really, but especially so for young men right now.

I was saying this shit back before the 2016 election and really pissed off a lot of people for daring to argue that we should encourage our allies instead of shaming and alienating them.

"Yes, absolutely, people should support our civil rights because it's the right thing to do, but a lot of people genuinely do not know how much of the world is structured to prop them up at the cost of bringing others down."

I'm going to say something possibly really, really controversial here, especially in the wake of THIS election:

Most people are capable of being empathetic, understanding, and logical, but if you are going to engage with them then you have to have the maturity to commit to reaching them.

At one of the places I worked previously, there was this security guard who worked a few nights at the end of the week who was honestly one of my best friends there. He was a well-educated, very devout Christian man around my father's age, and he was black. For context, I am a young Irish-American liberal Hellenic Polytheist.

We actually got along far better with each other than I did with all of the hippie woo neopagan people I knew there, and he with the Christians there. And that's because we were not only both well educated within our belief systems, we were also really good at meeting in the middle and extending social grace and understanding to each other. We found that our core principles were perfectly aligned, we just didn't always arrive to our conclusions in the same exact ways.

When the pandemic hit in 2020, he was reluctant to get vaccinated, and when we talked about it I was the one person who got through to him. And he told me so. He told me outright, after he got vaccinated, that it was my voice that changed his mind.

I did not do that by shaming him over all of the people he might kill if he caught COVID and spread it. I did not do that by attacking his intellect or scientific literacy. I did not do that by threatening his financial security and pointing out that companies are letting people go for not getting vaccinated.

I did it by acknowledging his beliefs and concerns (especially as an older black man, given this country's history), and agreeing that he absolutely has valid reasons to feel the way he does, but by letting him know that my position on this subject was one of caring about his well-being above all else and letting him know when I got vaccinated and where, and how the process went for me.

Look, shaming CAN be effective in some limited scenarios, and I've done that, too. I've shamed quite a few people on public transit for refusing to let disabled elderly people sit. I am very much guilty of telling a woman that her imaginary friend does not need a seat of their own so that a guy who fell over getting on the bus could actually sit the fuck down.

But when it comes to bigger picture social issues, it's so much better to try to reach people and establish dialogue FIRST. And I know that that is asking a lot. For many of us, it goes against our very instincts.

At the local farmer's market last week, I had a man come up to me in a MAGA hat and I was absolutely braced for a fight. Instead, he eagerly showed me pictures on his phone of the garden he was cultivating. He was almost GIDDY about his plants, about the wildflowers and the pollinators and the fruit and the trees. That man was reachable. He was not there to attack me for being a queer woman. He was there to bond over how cool plants are and had no idea what he was really signing up for.

It's so much easier to condemn people broadly as monsters, and I know it feels much more satisfying and rewarding in the moment. I've done it, too. I was downright obnoxious about it when I was younger. But this is not the kind of behavior that leads to long-term societal growth.

The more we cut off and alienate people, the easier it is for them to fall prey to indoctrination. Exposure and social engagement is our biggest weapon against bigotry and THAT is a major reason as to why the Republican party wants to destroy public education.

I have had an immense uphill battle with some of my closest male friends in trying to keep them from falling down the alt-right pipeline. It's been a nearly two decade endeavor in a few cases, but I have seen those men in my life gradually improve and become well-rounded, empathetic, and educated men.

I guess what I'm saying here is, if you have a man (or ANYONE for that matter!) in your life who is showing early warning signs and/or you believe is susceptible to the MAGA movement, please think about what I've said. It's so much harder to approach them from a place of understanding than of anger and I get that, but at the end of the day, one of those is going to be much more effective at changing their viewpoint.

Lastly, if you find yourself in a situation where you are trying to engage with someone who thinks very differently than you do, here are a few tips and some examples:

1. Acknowledge their viewpoint.

"I understand where you're coming from"

"I think I see why you think/feel this way"

Or even just asking, "I don't really understand, can you explain how you arrived to this conclusion/viewpoint/opinion, etc.?"

2. Offer them an olive branch.

"I see what you're saying, and actually, I think you will find that our opinions aren't too different from each other's."

"You have a point about this, and if I could just build off of that, here is where I am coming from."

3. Address their concerns

"Yeah, you're right, our taxes are already way too high, but if we didn't have to raise them at all and could, instead, take a hard look at how they are already being spent?"

"Wolf reintroduction absolutely could be a problem for farmers if it's handled poorly, and you're right that city people don't understand that as intimately as you do, but what if I told you there's a way we could work this out to your benefit, too?"

4. Thank them for listening! (even if they didn't magically change their opinion right away, you never know)

"I'm glad we had this talk, thank you for hearing what I had to say."

5. Reassure them that you listened, too! (even if YOU didn't change your mind)

"I can't say you've changed my mind, but you've given me something to think about."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Are You Always This Forward? | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

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Summary: Y/n meets Charles at a party, and what starts as a casual fling quickly becomes something more. As their connection deepens and feelings grow, Y/n begins to question— is it really casual? [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]

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A/N: Also comment if you guys wanna be added to the taglist because I've written almost 7 chapters for this series and we're nowhere near done so buckle up

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Part 1 of my Is It Casual Now? series: Masterlist

You weren’t exactly thrilled to be here. The party was crowded, with people spilling out onto the balcony, laughter and music filling the room. It wasn’t really your scene, but your friends had convinced you to come out for a change, insisting that you “needed a night out.”

"Look, if nothing else, you might at least see some familiar faces," one of your friends said, nudging you with a grin. “Rumor has it Charles Leclerc is here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the little spark of curiosity that flared up. “Oh, please,” you replied with a laugh, though you glanced around the room. “Why would Charles Leclerc be at a random party like this?”

“Apparently, he knows the host,” your friend said, looking around too, as if he’d appear on command. “Besides, you know he’s got a thing for these parties. Always in the photos with some new girl hanging off his arm.”

“Right, the ‘playboy’ Leclerc reputation,” you muttered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. But the truth was, you knew exactly who he was, and while the rumors weren’t exactly your thing, he was… undeniably attractive.

“Yeah, that reputation,” another friend chimed in, giving you a sly smile. “I mean, look at him—he’s practically a walking invitation for bad decisions. But I wouldn’t mind, honestly.” She laughed, and you joined in, the both of you glancing around in a playful attempt to spot him.

But in the next second, you felt it—a gaze that sent a small thrill up your spine. Your friends were still laughing and joking, but your eyes had locked onto someone across the room, and there he was: Charles, in the flesh, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand. And he was staring right at you.

A rush of heat crept into your cheeks, but you quickly looked away, brushing it off as a fluke. You barely knew him; it was nothing. And yet, a few minutes later, when you glanced back, he was still watching you, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips.

“Look who’s got Leclerc’s attention,” one of your friends whispered, nudging you in the ribs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was eyeing you up.”

“Stop,” you muttered, laughing it off. “You guys are reading too much into it. He’s probably just looking around.”

“Yeah, right,” she teased, winking at you. “Seems like he’s only looking at you.”

You rolled your eyes, determined to ignore it. But Charles seemed to have other plans because, a few moments later, he began making his way over to your group. Your friends scattered, throwing you quick glances of encouragement, leaving you standing there as he came to a stop in front of you, his gaze warm and entirely focused.

"Enjoying the party?" he asked, his voice smooth, just a hint of an accent slipping through.

“It’s all right,” you said, trying to play it cool. “Wasn’t really planning on talking to anyone new tonight.”

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, tilting his head as he looked at you. “Well, that’s a shame. You’re the most interesting person here.”

“Oh, please.” You shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. “Don’t you have other people you could be charming?”

“Maybe,” he replied, his eyes flicking over you again, “but none of them seem half as interesting as you.”

The boldness of his gaze unsettled you, and you bit your lip, shifting your weight slightly as you tried to keep your cool. He was every bit as captivating as his reputation claimed, and yet you were wary, keeping your guard up despite the warmth spreading through you.

“Are you always this forward?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Only with people worth it,” he said, his gaze unwavering. He took a small step closer, a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. “So, can I at least buy you a drink?”

You found yourself nodding before you fully realized it. He waved down a waiter, ordering drinks as the conversation between you flowed easily, surprising you. He was funny, easygoing, and each small, accidental touch sent a jolt through you that you tried to ignore.

Over the next hour, you laughed, your body leaning into his as the drinks made you both looser, the edges of the world around you softening. The subtle touches became less accidental—his hand resting on your lower back, the way he’d brush his fingers against yours whenever he handed you your drink. It was heady, electric, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way that felt both thrilling and a little reckless.

“So,” he murmured, leaning in close, his face just inches from yours. “Are you going to keep pretending you’re not interested?”

You laughed, looking away, your cheeks warming under his gaze. “Who says I’m pretending?”

He smiled, his fingers brushing your cheek as he gently guided your face back to his. “I do.” And then he closed the gap, pressing his lips softly against yours.

The kiss was light at first, testing, but when you responded, his hands settled on your waist, pulling you in closer. You could feel his warmth, his heart beating beneath your palms as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening as the tension that had been building between you finally spilled over.

You broke apart for a moment, catching your breath, and he smiled, looking at you as if he was just as affected. “Come back with me?” he asked softly, his voice low and inviting.

Your heart raced, but you nodded, the thrill of the moment drowning out any hesitation. The ride to his apartment was a blur, the silence filled with anticipation, the only sound the occasional brush of his hand over yours. And when you arrived, he barely waited for the door to close before he pulled you close again, kissing you deeply, his hands finding your waist as he guided you toward his bedroom.

In his arms, it felt like time slowed. Every touch, every kiss was filled with an intensity that left you breathless, his lips tracing a path from your mouth down to your neck, his hands warm and steady as he pulled you against him. The night was filled with whispered words and soft laughter, the thrill of his touch and the warmth of his presence pulling you into a heady, dreamlike state. When you finally drifted off, it was with a sense of contentment you hadn’t expected, his arm draped around you, his breathing even beside you.

The morning light seeped through the curtains, and you blinked, slowly becoming aware of the weight of Charles’s arm still wrapped around you. You shifted slightly, thinking you’d sneak out quietly, but he tightened his hold, murmuring sleepily, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You laughed softly, turning to face him. “I thought I’d slip out before I overstayed my welcome.”

He grinned, his hand moving to your waist. “And here I was hoping you’d stay for breakfast.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. “You really don’t have to play the gentleman.”

“Who said I was playing?” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. He reached over to grab his phone, tapping in the passcode before handing it to you. “Just in case,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze soft, watching as you saved your number on his phone.

You arched a brow as you handed it back. “Right. As if you’re going to remember to call me.”

He shrugged, smirking. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

With a laugh, you finally slipped out of bed, pulling your clothes back on as he watched you with a lazy, satisfied smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll be hearing from me,” he called out as you left, and you shook your head, chalking it up to morning-after charm.

A few weeks later, you found yourself at another party, the memory of that night with Charles lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. But it wasn’t until you felt a familiar hand on your waist, warm and steady, that you turned and saw him, his grin as mischievous as ever.

Without a word, he guided you down a hallway, slipping into a quiet bathroom and closing the door behind you. “Miss me?” he murmured, pressing you back against the door as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, barely able to suppress a grin. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Well,” he replied, brushing his lips over yours in a way that made your knees weak, “I couldn’t just let you disappear.”

Before you could respond, he kissed you, and just like before, the spark ignited instantly. It was the start of something unspoken, casual but thrilling, each encounter leaving you wanting more, yet content with the moment.

The next few weeks went by in a blur. Somehow, Charles found his way into your life again and again, just as casually as that night at the party. You didn’t think too much about it. He’d message you when he was around, a simple “Hey, what are you up to?” that always had a certain charm to it, like he’d genuinely missed your company. You didn’t mind, and maybe part of you even looked forward to it.

One evening, you found yourself back at his place, sprawled on the couch together, a movie playing in the background though neither of you were watching. Charles was close, his arm slung over your shoulders, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, his fingers tracing light patterns along your arm in a way that felt natural and maybe a little more comfortable than you’d expected.

“So, what happened this time?” you asked, glancing at him. It had become a bit of a game between you two—he’d tell you a funny story or some little anecdote, always skirting around any real details about his life but sharing just enough to keep you intrigued.

“Oh, nothing too dramatic,” he replied with a lazy grin, “just an embarrassing incident in front of the team principal. Tripped over a power cord, nearly brought the whole simulator down with me.”

You burst out laughing, nudging him. “So much for that smooth reputation of yours.”

“Oh, I’m smooth when it counts,” he shot back, his eyes dancing with that familiar cheeky glint as he leaned closer. “I haven’t heard any complaints from you. Also being smooth is more of my teammate’s thing”

You felt your cheeks warm, and you looked away, laughing softly. There was something about him, the way he moved so effortlessly from humor to something more intense, that always had your heart racing. When his hand moved to brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, you felt that familiar spark between you.

The kisses started slow, a mix of laughter and warmth as his lips met yours. You’d gotten used to the way he’d go from teasing you to pulling you close, his hands trailing along your back as he deepened the kiss, his touch growing more insistent. Somehow, even though you both kept things light, there was a weight to it, an intensity that left you breathless every time.

But no matter how intense it got, the mornings were always easy. He’d hand you a coffee, tease you about how you liked it, and insist on making breakfast—even if that breakfast was sometimes just a couple of slices of toast or a quickly scrambled egg.

One morning, you woke up with him lying next to you, his arm draped over your waist, his face relaxed in sleep. You tried to slip out of bed, but as you moved, he tightened his hold, his eyes opening just a sliver. “Going somewhere?” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“I’ve got things to do,” you whispered back, though you were reluctant to move from the warmth of his arms.

“Stay,” he mumbled, pulling you back down, his head finding the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. “Just a few more minutes.”

You rolled your eyes but settled back into his embrace, a soft laugh escaping you. Moments like these, the playfulness and ease, were what kept you coming back. And every time he brushed a kiss over your shoulder or laced his fingers with yours under the covers, it felt like he was daring you to let your guard down just a little bit more.

It was a pattern—casual, yet consistent. You never really talked about what you were doing, and maybe that was part of the appeal. There were no promises, no declarations, just the simple thrill of seeing him and the warmth of his company.

Then one night, at yet another party, you spotted him across the room, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw you. He excused himself from his conversation and strode over, his usual smirk in place.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” he teased, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you out of the crowded room, into a quieter hallway. His gaze dropped to yours, a familiar heat sparking between you.

“Oh, please,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m here because my friends dragged me out again.”

“Sure,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway and into a closet, closing the door behind him. Before you could say anything, he pulled you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours, and the familiar thrill washed over you, as strong as ever.

“You know,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low, “I missed you.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, really?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, his lips grazing along your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re hard to forget.”

He kissed you again, his hands roaming over your waist, your body responding with the same intensity as if this had been brewing since the last time you’d seen each other. The kisses were heated, a rush of warmth and urgency, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the moment.

This was supposed to be just casual, just fun. But as you felt the way he held you close, his fingers tracing light patterns on your skin as if memorizing every detail, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—this was starting to mean something more. For now, though, you were content to leave it unspoken, savoring each moment with him as it came.

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[cakelitter]

Sweetheart Club

Professor! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: dirty talk, pet names, p in v, thigh fucking, semi public sex, age gap, mentions of exhibition, cheating (not on reader), angst with a happy ending

summary: “You wanted to talk, professor?” he turns around and faces you, placing down the papers he’s holding on his desk and taking his glasses off. “Yeah, mind explaining the absences?”

words: 2.2k

a/n: prof Leon is rotting my brain, this is a technically a part 2 for "A+" but no need to read the previous chapter to understand the plot of this one. Enjoy!

You’ve kept your promise to yourself.

Slipping away from the comfort of his broad arms and continuing on with your life like nothing happened. Like a couple of weeks ago your professor wasn’t whispering sweet nothings into your ears while he stroked your hair; plotting a gentle kiss on your forehead as post sex sleepiness overtakes your senses.

You ignored his texts and calls, skipped his classes for weeks; all to keep those blue eyes don’t lure you in like they did the first day you met. You focused on yourself, burying your head between assignments and tests; keeping any thoughts of him at bay.

Crazy how you used to live like this, now you’re making effort to make things go back to the way they were. Was life always this cold away from his embrace?

Wish you could say that you didn’t miss him, him and his stupid jokes, and his stupid soft air, and his stupid mellow voice. The three crow feet that would appear on the corner of his eyes every time he smiled, and the mole on his neck burned into your memory.

 Wish that you could say that he’s no good for you. That he’s a horrible person that ruined you, that you feel like shit because he treated you as such, maybe if he was like that, you’d have an easier time moving on. But that’s far from the truth.

He was softspoken and gentle, giving you his jacket when it’s cold, buying you gifts and holding you close till you fell asleep. How are you supposed to hate the hand that showed you nothing but love and affection?

Either way, it had to be done. Funny how a ring around his finger still left a bitter taste in your mouth no matter how sweet his presence in your life was. Maybe you should’ve talked to him about it—told him how it made you sick to your stomach, seeing him go back home to another woman after he had been worshipping the ground you walked on.

Well, aren’t you technically the other woman? After all, the one he goes back to is his wife on paper, regardless if he loves her like a husband should or not. The guilt is staring to overshadow any of the blossoming feelings he planted in you.

You’re not disgusting, not the kind of women that get off to the idea of stealing another’s man. Not the kind to go around parading your relationship like you won the lottery.

That’s not you.

If you knew better, you would’ve never gotten involved in this. Would’ve kept your legs closed and mouth shut. But you didn’t. And now, your balls deep in a mess you willingly created.  

Taking in a deep breath, you step into his class, mixing in with a group of students and sitting down in the far back. Whether you want to see him or not, you have to pass this class. Taking any more absences will affect your GPA, this course was hard even when he was personally tutoring you for his exams. Reading the notes that your friends took while they’re half asleep are not doing you any good.

You see him, eyes fixated on his laptop waiting for more students to arrive. Your heart is already beating out of your chest and he hasn’t even looked in your direction yet. You mentally scold yourself for yearning for him, feeling all the progress you’ve made in hopes of moving on going down the drain.

Does he even want you back anymore? Your brows furrow at the possibility, what if you were just a pawn in his game, chewed you up and spat you out without even glancing behind. Yeah, you pushed him away. But with each passing day, you looked forward to see that missed call notification pop up on your phone.

 A few minutes later, he gets up and starts explaining, his eyes falling every now and then on the empty seat where you’d usually sit; completely unaware of your presence.

However, that was short lived when his eyes finally lock with yours. Your heart drops, anxiousness overtaking your senses as you try to not let it show. He keeps looking at you as he explains, his expression hard to read, unable to tell what’s going through his mind before you look away.

Enchanting blue eyes snap back to you between pauses in his explanation, pools so deep you feel like you’re suffocating.

Coming here was a waste of time, your thoughts drowning out the voice around you. It looks like your GPA is going to drop whether you attend or not, might as well keep whatever is left of your dignity and stop showing up.

The sound of people packing their bags and leaving snaps you out of your thoughts.

 Biting the inside of your cheek, you begin packing your things as quickly as you can; wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. But as you’re about to get up, his voice calls your name. “Please stay for a second, we need to talk.”

Shit.

How do you always find yourself in these situations? He’s not even looking at you, eyes scanning through papers he’s holding as he waits for the class to empty.

Not a single bone in your body wants to talk, actually that is a lie. You do want to talk, just not about what he has in mind.

Maybe you can just sneak out the door? No, he’ll probably just follow you and you’d end up embarrassing yourself. Pretend to have an emergency? He knows everything about you, that would never work on him.

What if you just jumped out the window? He’d never expect that. But the both of you are going to hell, so you’ll meet eventually. Fuck, there is no escaping this.

The room eventually empties, leaving only the two of you. Honestly, the sooner you get it over with the better. Just rip off the bandaid and tell him that it won’t work.

‘No Leon, we cannot fuck anymore. You’re married, act like it.’ See, plain and simple.

Getting up, you walk over to where he stands, feigning confidence like you weren’t spiraling two minutes ago.

“You wanted to talk, professor?” he turns around and faces you, placing down the papers he’s holding on his desk and taking his glasses off. “Yeah, mind explaining the absences?”

Ok, we’re starting off professionally, interesting. “I was having some complications.”

“With?” he immediately retorts, voice becoming more agitated closing his eyes in frustration. “I-”

“I send you texts, I call you, I send you a fucking email, and you don’t respond.” Yeah, there it is. “You skip my classes, and fall off the face of the earth for almost three weeks. Do you know how fucking worried I was?”

His voice softens at the last part, this is honestly the first time you’ve seen him this pissed. He takes in a deep breath looking up at the ceiling, loosening his tense muscles. Stepping closer towards you, his large hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing the skin soothingly.

“Sweetheart… why are you doing this to me?” God, that pet name rolls off his tongue so perfectly, your knees are about to collapse. You look up at him, noticing the worsening state of the dark circles beneath his eyes. “Leon, I- We can’t keep doing this anymore.”

His gaze softens, hand stilling its movement. “Do what?”

“This.” you gesture at the hand on your cheek. “Leon, you’re married. You have a wife, and you’re out here fucking your student.”

Your throat tightens as tears begin to brim on your lash line. The words you spit out feel like venom, inflicting pain on the two of you. “I don’t know what’s the situation with your wife, and every time I bring it up, you end up changing the subject like what we’re doing is normal.”

Warm tears drip down onto your cheeks, your voice shaky as you attempt to compose yourself. “I love you, so much. But I feel fucking horrible every time I remem-”

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“...what?”

“I’ve been considering getting one before I even met you. Meeting you showed me everything I’m missing. My relationship with my wife… has been honestly nonexistent for years now, and I know that doesn’t justify what we’re doing but-”

“I should’ve done it sooner. I’m sorry, baby.”

He smiles softly, his thumb wiping away the tears that cascaded down your face. “You still mad at me?”

Relief rushes through your body, the heavy feeling of guilt slowly being lifted off your shoulders. Your head leans against the hand brushing through your hair; your smile mirroring his.

His face inches closer towards yours before finally connecting your lips together. Never realized how much you’ve missed his lips, till you tasted them again. The kiss is sweet and slow, your hand reaching up and resting against this jaw, his rough stubble scratching against your soft hand.

Grabbing you by the hips, he pulls you closer till his chest is flush against yours as he mummers against your lips, “Missed you so much, sweetheart.”

You giggle, connecting your lips once more. This time, the kiss is deeper, his tongue brushing against yours. The hand on your hip guides you towards his desk, his mouth latching onto your neck, leaving kisses and bites across the sensitive skin.

“Please, touch me.”  You whine out, grabbing his forearm and leading his hand over to one of your breasts. Groaning, he sneaks his hand beneath your shirt, groping the soft tissue through your bra. Your fingers tangle through his thick hair, your other hand clutching his bicep.

“Turn around, and take these off.” He hisses in your ears, his finger hooking the waist band of your pants, letting go of the material and letting it snap against your skin. Doing as you’re told; your hand fumbles with the buttons before pulling them down enough to expose the wet patch on your underwear.

Cursing beneath his breath, his hand cups your mound, the digits rubbing against your swollen clit as his thumb teases your entrance. “So fucking sexy.”

You bite your lip to stifle a moan, his hand moving to the fat of your ass, spreading you open for him. You hear his belt getting undone, and it doesn’t take long before you feel the tip of his cock smearing precum over your thighs.

“Close these thighs for me, sweetheart.” Your head turns around slightly to look at him, a happy trail running down from beneath his white shirt, leading to a trimmed bush above his thick cock. Your eyes linger on it, tip shiny with precum and veins traveling up it’s length. “Leon, please.”

His fucks his dick between your thighs, the tip brushing against your warm clit causing you to move back into him. He lets out a moan, his head tipping back as his fluids coat your panties, making the material stick uncomfortable to your sobbing cunt.

Squeezing your thighs together to get more friction, a breathy moan escapes his lips as he holds your hips firmly. “Yeah, yeah baby. Just like that.”

“Leon, I want your cock, please.” His hand sneaks below you, rubbing firm circles on your clit. “I know, I know. Just gotta make sure this little pussy is soaked when I stuff it full of my cock.”

Leaning in he kisses your jaw, his other hand cupping your breasts as he whispers into your ear. “You’d let me play with you, yeah sweetheart?”  

You nod eagerly, gipping the desk below you; shifting your attention the warm feeling blossoming between your thighs.

Deciding he’s had enough, he slips your soaking panties down, placing one of your knees on his desk. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. Leon centers his tip at the opening of your hot cunt, collecting more arousal before bullying himself into you.

You let out a yelp at the stretch, resulting in his hand clasping over your mouth as his hips begin to thrust into you. “Gotta stay quiet, baby. Can’t have anyone walk in and see you getting this pretty cunt stretched out like this, yeah?”

The idea causes hot arousal to shoot across your body, your walls pulsing around him. “Fuck, you’d like that? Want someone to see you getting cockdrunk on my dick?  See how well you take it?”

Your mind imagines every word he’s saying; simply thinking of how dirty the sight must be is enough to send you over the edge. You thrash around beneath him, pussy pulsing around his thick length earning a moan out of him.

He begins to chase his own high, hips slamming against yours, the grip he has on you is rough, enough to leave a bruise. Your body goes limp, hearing him whisper incoherent praise into your ear.

“So good for me.”

“So fucking tight.”

“Pussy made for this cock.”

Moments later, he reaches his own release as hot ropes of cum coat your walls. You hum at the warm sensation, watching him pump into your spent cunt a few more times, before he eventually pulls out with a low hiss; cursing beneath his breath as he watches your mixed releases ooze out.

Before they drip any further, he grabs your underwear; pulling it up and leaving a soft kiss on your hip with a reassuring pat. He fixes himself up and helps you look as proper as possible. “I think I just missed my lecture, thanks to you.”

“Forget about it, got three weeks’ worth of concepts to make up for.” He smiles, arm pulling you closer to him. “Gotta make sure to pound those points in before finals.”

divider by: @d-oie

[mynameismad]

What have I been up to?????

Hey all! I'm sure you're all cycling rapidly through the stages of grief like I am, but I thought I'd just check in and let everyone know what's going on with me and when they can expect more comics!

GOOD NEWS: I got a concept art job! I've been working freelance for a client for about two months now and things are going great! Honestly working on short assignments with weekly deadlines has been an amazing break from the slow, constant march of longform comics. I am surprising myself every day and haven't been this excited to learn and grow as an artist in a very long time. Moving forward, I would like to find a full time job in games and stay there, rather than continuing to hustle full-time in comics. I've paused my Patreon for the foreseeable future.

THAT BEING SAID: I will always be making comics!!!!!! I love them a lot, they've been good to me, and I have all these ideas in my head that NEED to be let out. I want to start making them in my own time, rather than as my main source of income. We'll see how long it takes to find true stability in concept (maybe never, lol) but in the meantime I will keep drawing my silly little guys and posting them online for everyone to see. I have to! I have to keep going and making the art I want to see in the world! We have to keep going!!!!

SAKANA: hoping to get back to the fish boys sooner rather than later. I've been stuck on whether to end the latest chapter right away or get a few more pages in there. We're moving into a HEAVY part of the plot, which will be trickier to write, so I've been procrastinating lol. Please don't take my extended absence as proof that I'm walking away from the story: I've just been busy with a new job and I don't know exactly how to get to the next chapter yet!! (also, jsyk, the Webtoon mirror is something I was doing for fun! not a priority!!)

RR: I actually have a few different projects started for RR! Chapter 2 is like 9 pages in, but then I paused and started work on a 20ish page minicomic, which is like 7 pages in. I'm going to finish the mini first and hopefully upload it to itch.io. For Chapter 2, I created this really elaborate environment in an effort to force myself to learn Blender, but then I got a job....so I have no time to learn Blender lol. Still trying to figure out whether to simplify or push forward.

OTHER: yeah...I am a comic artist at heart so obviously I have a million things I want to do. But SAKANA and RR are the highest priority right now!

UPCOMING: I am pursuing other freelance work for shorter, more manageable projects! If you need somebody to redline all your thumbnails, critique the first draft of your synopsis, or make a 20-40 page comic, please keep me in mind!

In closing: I'm locking my twitter accounts tonight and moving away from the platform for now. I'll be here, Instagram (@/mad_rupert), and BlueSky (@/madrupert). Thanks for sticking with me, let's hold onto and support each other in the coming weeks, months, and years! Let's keep going!!!!! I love you all so much!!!

[anamateurhumanbeing]

That did not change your mind. That man had taken everything from you. Every night for the past 2 decades you see his green eyes when you go to bed, haunting you in your sleep. You spent too much time training for this moment to turn back now. You need this.

At the dead of night you quietly sneak into his house. You hear the television running. Going into the living room you find your target. From your hiding spot you can spot him on his chair, a small child with curly hair asleep on his lap. A man walks into the room. You nearly yelp and give yourself away. He looks so much like the mercenary did the night he killed your family, right down to those green eyes. But he's different enough for you to remind yourself he's not the target, his father is.

The young man picks up the child, his daughter you presume, and carries her upstairs. You wait nearly half an hour, making sure the son won't return. The monster is all alone now. A part of you hesitates. If you kill this man, take him away from his family, what makes you any better than him?

'Because I have a good reason,' you remind yourself. Your doubts fade, but there's still a small voice in the back of your head telling you to turn back now.

You make your move. You sneak up behind him, putting a hand to his mouth. You pull out your knife, bright red in colour, custom made, and hold it to his neck.

"Scream and your family dies too," you whisper. An empty threat, you have no intention of harming them. You don't plan on reveling in this too long.

"Do you remember me?" you ask as you take off your mask, revealing your own brown eyes. The former mercenary shakes his head.

"Please. I'm sorry, do whatever you want to me, just please let my family go," he begs.

That only makes you madder. "Sorry? You don't even know what you did to me, and you have the gall to apologize!" you hiss, careful not to raise your voice too much.

"I killed someone you love, no? It's what I did for a living. I was an awful man. I deserve what ever you plan on doing to me, but please don't do it here. Please leave my f-"

You sock him in the jaw. You have tears in your eyes. How dare this disgrace of a human being pretend to care.

"Why?" You ask. You told yourself you wouldn't ask, that it would not make a difference.

Tha man's expression, while still full of fear, changes into one full of shame.

"I needed the money, I-"

You don't let him finish. Hearing that your family was just a paycheck for him was too much. You scream as you plunge your knife into his chest. You pull it out, then stab him again. And again. And again. When you entered this building you told yourself that you would make it quick. You aren't a monster, you said. Yet you look down, the man's chest torn to shreds, his blood coating both of your bodies. It feels good.

You can't leave him like this. You know it will devastate his family if he disappears, but it would devastate them more if they find him like this. You pick up the corpse, and begin to carry it off, when you're interrupted by a scream. You turn around to see the man's son, holding a golf club in his hand, his face distraught.

The man takes a swing at you, which you narrowly dodge. You drop your knife and raise your hands. "Wait, you need to understand. That m-"

The second sing hits and it knocks you to the ground. He delivers a third swing to your head, you can feel some blood trickling down your face. You manage to grab your knife and slash at your attacker's leg. You attempt to run away, but he tackles you back down to the ground and begins punching your face. Without thinking you take your knife and jab it into his throat. The son falls on top of you. You push his body off of yours, and let your blade fall to the ground. You don't know how long you spend lying there.

You've killed dozens of people. You always had a reason to do so.

'He was going to kill you, you had no choice but to take his life,' you tell yourself. But you know that isn't entirely true. That man would still be alive if you hadn't come here tonight.

You sit up, and your brown eyes make contact with a pair of green eyes. The curly haired girl is standing in the doorway. She quickly runs away. You get up, and you run into the other direction, barging out of the house, out of the town. You don't even notice you left your knife on the floor. You just keep running, until you finally pause to take a breath in the woods.

What have you done? You have no idea how much that girl had seen. You hear voices and footsteps. No doubt an angry mob of townsfolk on their way to avenge their leader and his son. You take off, and eventually make your way back to the base you call a home.

You look into a mirror. Your covered in blood, some of it's yours, most of it isn't. You stay in the shower for long after it's all washed away. You still feel dirty.

You sell off most of your gear. Spend most of the money you made on getting a new identity and move nearly three states away.

You get a job as a self-defence coach. Maybe something good can come out of those years you wasted training. It's through that you meet your husband. You don't think you deserve it. The love. You confess everything, expecting him to go to the police. He says he understands, and he reassures you that you aren't that person anymore. You don't believe him. You eventually have children, twins. They're the light of your life. You try to teach them kindness, to let go of grudges instead of seeking retribution.

You still have trouble sleeping. You still see those green eyes when you close your eyes, but now they belong to a young girl.

You wake up from a nightmare. You quietly get out of bed, making sure not to wake your husband. You make your way to then kitchen for a glass of water, looking at the various family photos you've taken over then past two decades as you walk down the stairs. Once you reach the living room you pause. There's an open window. You definitely remembered closing it earlier.

Looking around the room, you notice your son left his guitar lying around. You mentally note to buy him a new one as you grab it and hold it like a weapon. Cautiously, you walk up to the window. Looking down, you see footprints in the snow leading towards it. You barely have time to process when something hits you in the head.

When you come to, you find yourself bound by ropes. It's too dark to tell where you are, but you can see a human figure standing in front of you. They're wearing nothing but black, and are holding a familiar red knife. You look up at their face, and you see a woman, with green eyes and curly hair.

"Do you remember me?" she asks.

When you were a child, a mercenary made you watch as he killed your entire family in front of you. You swore revenge. Decades later, you've finally tracked them down- …only to find they're now a pacifistic geriatric who's beloved by his community.