#life is good and we are out here thriving

[rayroseu]

I really appreciate the beauty of Malleus New Year's card. But most importantly, other than its gorgeousness, I also appreciate how it pays so much homage to his status and character, from the flowers, the clothes, and the setting. 🥹

We know that wisterias were prevalent in his Dorm Groovy SSR, this time its another flower which is the red plum blossom here😭❤️

In Chinese philosophy, the Plum tree’s blossom is a symbol of winter ending and a herald of spring. The tree’s pale pink blossoms are cherished because they bloom vibrantly and so bravely amidst the winter chill. They symbolise perseverance and hope, as well as, beauty thriving in adverse circumstances.

The way this flower's meaning is so matched with Malleus' character is so precious. We know he's "the herald of spring" because his birth brought forth a hope that the Draconias(or the faes in general) won't die out just yet (the ending of winter) and the fact that this flower blooms even in winter probably symbolizes the fact that when he was an egg, he was still perservering to live. This also applies to his life as he grows up. With the way even if his life is riddled with loneliness and exclusion, he makes an effort to go out and adjust himself with others, he doesn't give up even if his reality consistently places him in situation where his goals can never be achieved (that is, him being accepted socially and him being ignorant of human culture but still makes an effort to understand it), he just continues to be hopeful that someone/ some place will invite him, therefore his ability to thrive in adverse circumstances.

The way he slowly rises in this card makes me feel like it symbolizes how slow paced Malleus is "in going out/getting used to outside of his comfort zone", actually lol. He described his admission to NRC as him being nervous because its an unknown place but still hopeful for the experiences that he might get(acccording to the vignette of his GloMas SSR), just like him here rising from the snow and the way he lifts the veil which makes me think he wants to see the world outside of his country's point of view with his own eyes.

Japanese tradition holds that the Plum (or ‘ume’) is celebrated as a protective charm against evil, so the ume is traditionally planted in the northeast of the garden, the direction from which evil is believed to come.

I also read this symbolism which makes me tear up lmaooo 😭Because we know in Book 7, Briarland was invaded from northeast where the Silver Owls originated from 💀 The fact that the plum blossom is a protection flower and he's surrounded with it in this card makes me think that it symbolizes how protected he was during Briarland's era 😭and another thing to dissect from his slow rise from the snow with the fact the plum blossom signifies protection is probably the fact that he took so long to hatch despite many people caring for him.

Side note that in Malleus Bloom Birthday Groovy, it implied that he was born in daytime during a snowfall, and he was happy experiencing the winter, just like in this New Years card where he's smiling against the heavy snowfall 🥹

In Japan, plum blossoms symbolize good fortune, an auspicious flower, along with pine and bamboo, and the arrival of early spring. They are often used as the design for New Year’s greeting cards and other celebratory occasions. (And maybe this is just the likely reason why this flower is here in Malleus' card and I'm overthinking it above lol

Next thing I want to mention is his clothes, that attire reminds me of the formal outfit of a Japanese Emperor (From what I searched, its called sokutai, but what Malleus wears is much more simpler I guess, its a outfit derived from it which is called ikan.) This post is a great overview about these two outfits.

Ikan is the work clothes of nobles and government officials in the Imperial Court after the Heian period. Sokutai is a formal costume for those from the Emperor to the court nobles in and after Heian period (Heian costume). Ikan is called 'tonoi (nighttime) costume', whereas sokutai is called 'hino (daytime) costume'. (which probably references the fact that he's a night fae)

The point is, what Malleus wears in this card is a very traditional garment that only high ranking Japanese officials can wear. But what he wears isn't the clothes of an emperor yet, but just for a high ranking official, which is accurate to his status that he's still a crown prince not yet the king, because only Maleficia truly rules Briar Valley right now.

I love the decision that they made him wear such a prestigious outfit because the story of the New Years event is the characters working on customer service lol Its like his clothes is a reminder that he is still highly distinguished even if temporarily he's a worker.

Lastly the VEIL !!!!!! That's the thing that catched my eyes the most in this card lol I KNOW they're not referencing a wedding here because the veil don't look the same, but its so good not to mention that the one of the headress of a Japanese bride is called tsunokakushi and its description can be related with Malleus a lot lol.

The term is a compound of 角 (tsuno, "horn") + 隠し (kakushi, "hiding"). This derivation is listed in some sources as a reference to hiding a bride's "horns" of anger, jealousy, or other negative qualities, in order to present a more virtuous image for the wedding. However, this interpretation might be a folk etymology resulting from a shift in the reading and meaning.

The headdress and the veil aren't the same thing but I kinda feel like this is the idea they're going for considering the veil is 1) hiding his horns, 2) he's a character associated with being jealous, and most importantly, 3) only the person he is looking at can see his face (which is the point of most wedding veils/headdress, to hide the bride's face so that only her partner can see it).

But long veils, like the one Malleus is holding is also just a garment for a noble to hide their nobility. Which is this is probably the likely reason, considering he's using that veil to cover up his horns and his clothes, the most obvious features of his status.

Also, it could be just a fun reference to the fact that Maleficent in live action wore a long veil to hide her horns so that she wouldn't scare the humans lol

[tyrfish-blog]

back in high school/uni i was SO GOOD at academic subjects and I fell into that trap of I Won't Do Things I Am Not Immediately Good at which is hm. not very embrace the humanity and process of past me. Part of the joy of settling somewhere long term and finding the community is unlearning this. I do sports now (poorly. i bonked my head on the tennis ball trying to serve the other day) and anyway the point of this post is in my HUBRIS I have decided I want to be an art girlie so I can draw my OCs to supplement my books and nothing is more humbling than attempting to copy a reference picture, a very simple one, and realising my hand simply Does Not.

The mortifying ideal of having to practice etc etc. retraining my brain to accept the process etc etc.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant interview at the British LGBT Awards, June 2024 (x)

Int: You being an ally to the community isn't something new. You've been doing it, but recently you've obviously really stepped up for trans and non-binary people in a time that's so, so needed. What made you do that?

David: I don't know that I feel like I've done anything that I wouldn't just sort of be normally doing. I mean, it's for me it's just common sense that there's there should be any suggestion that people aren't allowed to live the life they want to live and and to be who they want to be with and to express themselves wholeheartedly. I mean, as long as you aren't hurting anybody else, everybody else just needs to fucking butt out. I don't really understand why...

Int: ...it's controversial.

David: Yeah, there is and the thing... the thing, if there's something that's particularly sobering and depressing, it's that certain debates are being weaponized by certain elements of the political class, often for no... it seems it's not ideological so much as opportunistic. And I just think that's pretty disgusting, really.

Int: I couldn't agree more. What message would you like to send out to trans youth?

David: Please don't feel like you're not loved and that you're not accepted and that you're not... you know, most people in the world are good and kind and just want you to be able to be who you are. Most people in the world don't really care. I mean... you know what I mean?

Int: We're all narcissistic.

David: Exactly. Everyone's so self obsessed that really, the sort of noise that comes from a certain area of the press and of the political class is... it's a minority. It really is. And please don't let that make you feel diminished or dissuaded or discouraged, because, you know, you just... you have to be allowed to be yourself, and you are, and you are yourself and you must thrive and flourish, and we're all here for it.

Int: Amazing. I think, yeah, it's so important .I think sometimes it feels like there's so many people, but it is a minority. It's such a minority.

David: It's a tiny bunch of little whinging fuckers that are on the wrong side of history and they'll all go away soon.

Int: Like what happened with gay people 20 years ago.

David: When I was a kid, when I was a kid, exactly. You know, I was at school when Clause 28 came in and it all felt like being gay was something to be terrified of. And gay men in particular were demonised as paedophiles and now that just feels historic and ludicrous and, I mean, I don't see all those... all those battles aren't won, but we're in a very, very different place. And I feel like.I feel like history is on a progressive trajectory and it might get knocked sideways now and again by people for all sorts of reasons, which are often quite selfish and quite, as I say, not coming from a place of any sort of genuine belief system, but other than a place of opportunism. And that's something that we... I hope that in 20 years time, we're talking about, you know, these culture wars as something of the past.

Int: I believe we will. I'm a huge Doctor Who fan, so.

David: Oh, good, me too!

Int: You are my Doctor.

David: Oh, thank you very much.

Int: But recently, obviously, you came back for the 60th anniversary and you got to work with Yasmin Finney.

David: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Int: What was it like working with her?

David: Oh, she's brilliant. She's fantastic. Yeah. And she's in the show again now, she's back in it, so that's fantastic to see. She's lovely, talented, cool as a cucumber, articulate, brilliant. I learned a lot from her as an actor and also as someone who, you know, who's become a sort of de facto activist just because of who she is and where she is, and she becomes a sort of symbol of hope, and she's wonderful.

[solxamber]

And I Pick...

In which you choose the club that caught your eye

Part 1

After much contemplation you've finally decided to pick the:

Basketball Club

The basketball court was quiet for all of two seconds after you announced your decision.

Then Ace exploded.

"HA! I knew you’d pick us! I called it!" He was practically doing laps around the court, pointing at nothing in particular. "Ace Trappola: the ultimate recruiter, the club MVP, and now the guy who brought you on board! This is the best day of my life!"

"Eh, it’s about time," Floyd drawled, stretching lazily. "Took ya long enough to figure out where the fun is." His sharp-toothed grin widened. "Now we can play my version of full-contact basketball. Hehehe."

"Absolutely not," Jamil cut in, but Floyd wasn’t listening.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you’d been lifelong teammates. "If you survive the first practice, you’ll survive all the practices. Probably."

Ace jogged back over, breathless but triumphant. "I told you we’re the best club! No boring rules, no endless laps like in Deuce's lame track team, and best of all—" He struck a dramatic pose, arms wide. "You get to hang out with me every day!"

"Please don’t make them quit on the first week," Jamil muttered, giving you a look that seemed to say, Are you sure about this?

"Quit? Nahhh!" Ace grinned. "They’re gonna thrive here. I’ll even teach them my signature moves—like my no-look, backwards, mid-air layup."

"You can’t even do that," Jamil said flatly.

"Not yet," Ace shot back. "But it’s the thought that counts."

Floyd leaned in closer, his grin somehow growing wider. "You better keep up, shrimpy. Otherwise, I might have to… spice things up a little."

"Spice things up?" you echoed, immediately suspicious.

"He means doing things like replacing the basketballs with watermelons," Jamil deadpanned.

Ace snorted. "Or throwing the ball at the hoop so hard it breaks the backboard. Oh wait, that actually happened. Twice."

"It was fun," Floyd said, completely unrepentant.

Jamil sighed like a man who’d aged a decade in the last five minutes. But then, to your surprise, he turned to you and offered a small, genuine smile. "Still… I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to the team."

The words were simple, but coming from Jamil, they felt like a warm endorsement.

Ace clapped his hands together, clearly ready to move things along. "Alright, enough talking! Let’s get you on the court and see what you’ve got!"

"Or we could start slow," Jamil suggested, but Ace was already dragging you toward the center of the court, Floyd trailing behind with a basketball under one arm.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, tossing the ball up and catching it effortlessly. "If ya mess up, we’ll just laugh at ya a little. No big deal~."

"No one’s laughing at anyone," Jamil said firmly, already pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ace threw an arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Ignore him. We’re gonna have a blast! First practice starts now!"

You weren’t sure what you’d gotten yourself into, but judging by their enthusiasm (and Floyd’s maniacal laughter), you were in for one chaotic ride.

Track and Field Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the track and field club, Deuce’s face lit up like someone had just told him he passed his midterms.

“You’re… really joining?” he asked, like he needed double confirmation. When you nodded, his grin widened, the kind that made him look both relieved and excited. “That’s awesome! Uh—welcome to the team! Seriously, it’s great to have you.” His usual earnestness shone through, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m still kind of learning the ropes, but we can figure things out together. It’s gonna be great!”

Jack, standing beside him, gave a firm nod of approval. “Good call. Track and field’s a solid choice. You’ll fit right in.” His tail wagged just enough to betray how happy he was, even if his tone stayed calm.

"Yeah!" Deuce agreed. “And, uh, don’t worry about keeping up or anything. It’s all about improving at your own pace. Right, Jack?”

“Sure,” Jack replied, glancing at you. Then he added, almost casually, “We’ll work on your stamina. You’re gonna need it.”

It took you a second to catch the faint glint in his eye, and then you remembered—oh no, the fridge comment. Jack had been disturbed ever since.

Deuce, oblivious to the subtext, chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s great at that stuff! He’s got this crazy endurance. Like, he can run forever. I’m still working on it, but, uh, you’re in good hands!”

Jack’s tail swished again. “Just be ready to push yourself. But don’t worry—we’ve got your back.”

“Exactly!” Deuce said, his fists clenching like he was ready to run a marathon right there. “This is gonna be awesome. I mean, not that it wasn’t already great, but now it’s even better. Right, Jack?”

Jack gave a small, satisfied smile. “Right.”

As they led you toward the field, you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d just signed up for. One thing was certain, though—Jack’s still thinking about that fridge, and he will make sure it’s not an issue anymore.

Board Game Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the board game club, Azul adjusted his glasses, looking smugly pleased with himself, like he'd just negotiated the deal of the century.

"An excellent decision," he said, his voice as smooth as the perfectly polished board games stacked behind him. "With your addition to our club, I foresee a new golden age of strategic victories."

Idia, sitting half-hidden behind a pile of unopened game boxes, choked on his energy drink. "W-Wait, you’re serious? They actually chose us?" His hair flared a brilliant shade of pink for a moment before he pulled his hoodie tighter around himself. "Th-this isn’t some prank, right? Like, I’m not gonna look up and see them bolting out the door laughing, right?"

"Nope," you replied with a grin. "I’m all in."

Ortho, ever the enthusiastic hype man, zipped into the room with his jet thrusters. "Welcome to the club! Now we have a full party for dungeon raids. This is amazing!"

Azul cleared his throat, waving a hand. "Ahem, while cooperative RPGs are certainly an option, I believe we should start with a game of strategy and wit to introduce them properly. Perhaps a round of Chess of Betrayal?"

Idia groaned, sinking further into his hoodie. "Ugh, that game takes, like, three hours. If you’re gonna scare them away, at least wait until they’re too deep in to quit. Why don’t we start with something easy, like Goblin King Gauntlet?"

Ortho clapped his hands. "Ooh, I love that one! It has a random trap mechanic! Let’s play that!"

Azul raised an eyebrow, his smile shark-like. "Trap mechanics are hardly a proper welcome. It would be far better to demonstrate the finer nuances of strategy, wouldn’t you agree?"

Idia muttered something about Azul turning everything into a power play, but you interrupted before they could spiral into a full-blown debate. "Honestly, I’m fine with anything. Just deal me in."

Azul’s smirk widened. "Very well, then. I shall prepare the game board. And don’t worry, I’ll make certain you’re fully equipped for our upcoming campaigns. You’ll find we offer more than just fun—we offer victory."

Idia peeked out from his hoodie, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto his face. "You’re not bad at this whole club thing. Maybe this won’t be so terrible."

As they started setting up the game, you felt an unexpected warmth. Sure, it was just a board game club, but there was something endearing about their chaotic enthusiasm.

Though one thing was clear—Azul would probably try to sell you game tokens at some point, and Idia would absolutely try to teach you how to min-max your dice rolls.

But hey, you were ready for it.

Film Studies Club

When you announced your decision to join the film studies club, Vil paused mid-sip of his herbal tea, one elegantly arched eyebrow rising. For a moment, he looked like he was considering whether he had heard you correctly. Then, with a practiced air of nonchalance, he set the teacup down.

"Hm. Acceptable," he said coolly, though his tone betrayed a slight uptick of satisfaction. "It’s rare to find someone with enough taste to appreciate the art of cinema. I suppose your presence will be… useful."

But the slight curl of his lips gave him away.

He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat, and gave you an appraising look. "We have much to discuss. If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to commit entirely—no half-measures, no excuses. The camera is unforgiving, and I have no intention of allowing this club to falter under subpar contributions."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already pacing, gesturing dramatically like the star of an avant-garde production. "Lighting, blocking, composition—they are all integral to creating art, not merely entertainment. I trust you won’t embarrass yourself, or me, for that matter."

Despite his words, you caught the faintest hint of pride in his gaze as he turned to face you fully. "And, if for some reason, acting isn’t your strength, there are other roles. Cinematography, set design, editing… Perhaps backstage work would suit you, should you fail the audition."

He didn’t say it to be harsh; this was Vil’s version of encouragement. And as he continued outlining the club’s vision—"a modern renaissance in storytelling"—you realized he was genuinely excited to have you there, even if he’d rather gargle poison than openly admit it.

Finally, he stopped and gave you a small, approving nod. "Welcome to the film studies club. Don’t make me regret this."

Translation: I’m glad you’re here.

Science Club

The moment you announced your decision to join the science club, Rook’s eyes lit up like you’d just declared him the ruler of the universe.

"Ah, mon ami! What a magnifique choice!" he exclaimed, sweeping you into a theatrical bow so deep you thought he might topple over. "You possess the soul of an explorer, a true seeker of knowledge! Together, we shall unlock the mysteries of nature and celebrate its beauty in all its forms!"

"Uh… don’t scare them off, Rook," Trey interjected, though he was smiling. He adjusted his apron, clearly relieved that you hadn’t bolted under Rook’s enthusiastic greeting. "We’re glad to have you. Really. It’s nice to have someone else around who won’t accidentally set the lab on fire."

You raised an eyebrow. "That’s a low bar."

Trey shrugged. "You’d be surprised how many fail to meet it."

Before you could respond, Rook was already spinning grand plans. "Imagine the adventures we will have! Scaling mountains, crafting elixirs, nurturing delicate blossoms—ah, the poetry of science!" He clasped his hands to his chest, radiating so much joy that you were worried he’d break into song.

Trey, ever the grounded one, sighed fondly. "What he means is: we do a little bit of everything. Growing plants, chemistry experiments, cooking—you’ll fit right in. Assuming Rook doesn’t scare you off first."

Rook turned to Trey with an exaggerated gasp, as if the very suggestion of him being overwhelming was the greatest insult he’d ever received. "Chevalier des Roses, how could you wound me so?" He turned back to you with a theatrical flourish. "Fear not! I shall be your guide, your companion, your—"

"Assistant," Trey cut in, giving you a knowing look. "We'll assist you. Don’t let him take over your projects."

You grinned, feeling oddly at home already. Between Rook’s boundless enthusiasm and Trey’s steadying presence, you realized the science club might just be the perfect balance of chaos and calm.

Pop Music Club

When you announced your decision to join the Pop Music Club, Lilia was the first to react. He shot up from his chair with a dramatic flourish, his cape—where did the cape come from?—billowing as if on cue.

"Ah, an excellent choice! Welcome to the most electrifying club in the entire school!" Lilia declared, his voice reverberating like an arena announcer. He played an imaginary riff on an air guitar, complete with sound effects that you were almost certain were magically amplified.

Kalim clapped his hands, beaming as brightly as the sun. "This is going to be so much fun! We can sing duets, make up dances, throw a party for every new song we write—oh! We should have a welcome party for you right now!" He was already halfway to grabbing balloons out of thin air before Cater stopped him.

"Easy there, Kalim," Cater said with a laugh, pulling out his phone to snap a picture. "We haven’t even started jamming yet! Gotta document this first—‘New Member Alert 🚨🎶! Welcome to the coolest club at NRC!’” He posed next to you, flipping through filters. "Ooh, should we do a pastel vibe or go all-out neon?"

"Why not both?" Lilia suggested, somehow holding a tambourine he hadn’t been holding two seconds ago. He shook it with gusto, the jingles creating an impromptu beat.

Kalim joined in instantly, dancing around the room with energy that could probably power a small city. "This is going to be amazing! Do you play any instruments? Can you sing? Or maybe you’ll write the songs? Wait, can you do all three?!"

Before you could answer, Lilia leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Don’t worry, even if you’re terrible, I can teach you. After all, I’ve had centuries of experience."

"Centuries of experience at what exactly?" you asked, though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted the answer.

"Everything," Lilia replied cryptically, shaking the tambourine once more for emphasis.

Cater gave you a wink. "Don’t let him intimidate you. He’s mostly harmless. Mostly."

As the chaos swirled around you, you realized joining the Pop Music Club was probably going to be as much about managing everyone’s energy as it was about making music.

But looking at their genuine excitement, you couldn’t help but feel you’d made the right choice. It was going to be loud, unpredictable, and—most importantly—a lot of fun.

Equestrian Club

When you chose the Equestrian Club, Riddle’s reaction was immediate and deeply Riddle. He straightened his posture, cleared his throat, and gave you a small but dignified nod, though his ears turned the faintest shade of pink.

“A wise decision,” he said primly, but his voice wavered just enough to give away his excitement. “The Equestrian Club values discipline and care, and I trust you will uphold those values. Welcome.” He paused, then added with uncharacteristic softness, “I’m glad you chose us.”

Sebek, on the other hand, reacted with his usual intensity, which was to say, very loudly.

“AS EXPECTED OF SOMEONE WITH DISCERNING TASTE!” Sebek bellowed, saluting for no discernible reason. “THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB IS A PLACE OF HONOR AND DILIGENCE. YOU HAVE MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE, AND I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, SHALL PERSONALLY ENSURE YOU MEET OUR HIGH STANDARDS!”

“You’re going to scare the horses,” Silver muttered, patting a dozing mare who didn’t even flinch at Sebek’s volume. Clearly, she’d built up an immunity.

Silver turned to you with a sleepy but genuine smile. “Welcome. It’ll be nice having another person around who actually seems calm. I’ll show you the best places to ride, and we’ll make sure you’re comfortable with the horses.”

“And with the rules,” Riddle interjected, already retrieving a stack of laminated pages. “Equestrian care is not something to take lightly. You’ll need to memorize these guidelines to ensure both your safety and that of the horses.”

Sebek leaned over your shoulder to inspect the stack and immediately saluted again. “AN EXCELLENT INITIATIVE, HOUSEWARDEN ROSEHEARTS! I, TOO, WILL MEMORIZE THESE IN CASE THEY EVER REQUIRE REINFORCEMENT!”

“I think they’re fine,” Silver said. “We don’t need to make this harder than it needs to be.”

Riddle frowned. “Standards exist for a reason, Silver. Though I appreciate your enthusiasm, perhaps we can—Sebek, stop shouting—perhaps we can go over the basics first before overwhelming them.”

As Riddle and Sebek debated, Silver handed you a carrot to feed one of the horses. “Don’t worry,” he said, as the horse happily munched away. “It’s not as intense as it seems. Usually.”

You glanced at the stack of rules in Riddle’s hand and the fervent look in Sebek’s eyes. It was definitely going to be an adjustment. But seeing how genuinely happy they all were to have you—yes, even Sebek—you felt like this would be worth it.

Magift Club

When you announced your decision to join the Magift Club as their manager, the reaction was instantaneous and… surprisingly chaotic.

Ruggie let out a whoop, immediately dropping to the floor in a mock bow. "Ayo, everyone, bow to the boss! Finally, someone who can keep this circus in line!"

Leona, lounging on the sidelines, cracked open an eye and smirked. “’Bout time. Herbivores usually flake out, but I knew you were better than the rest.” He stretched lazily, like he’d personally orchestrated your decision. “Just keep the snacks coming, and we’ll get along fine.”

Epel looked between them and grinned, his enthusiasm much more grounded. “It’s great to have ya! With you around, maybe Leona will actually show up to warmups... or not just sleep through it.” He shot a pointed glance at their captain, who was, of course, ignoring him entirely.

“Eh,” Leona drawled, flicking his tail dismissively.

“You could work on that attitude,” you muttered, earning a low chuckle from him.

“See, I told you they’d fit right in!” Ruggie said, gesturing at you dramatically. “They’re already roasting him. This is gonna be great!”

Epel, suddenly inspired, added, “And they’ll keep Ruggie from stealing the fresh apple juice we get after games. That’s worth it alone.”

As the reality of your new role settled in, you felt a bit like a lion tamer walking into a den of mischievous cubs and one very lazy big cat. But their enthusiasm—expressed in their own peculiar ways—was endearing.

Ruggie threw an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, boss, first order of business: snacks! Let’s discuss our game day budget and whether I can convince you to sneak me a sandwich before practice.”

Leona snorted but didn’t argue, which you took as a sign of approval. Epel pumped his fist. “We’re gonna crush it this year!”

Maybe managing this bunch wouldn’t be so bad after all. If nothing else, it’d definitely be entertaining.

Mountain Lovers Club

When you joined Jade for a hike to "test the waters" of the Mountain Lovers Club, you had your doubts. You were prepared for a lot of things—maybe getting lost in the wilderness, maybe Jade pulling out his eerie cryptid knowledge, or maybe just a weirdly formal lecture about moss. What you weren’t prepared for was… actually enjoying yourself.

Jade led the way with an unhurried confidence, pointing out various wild plants, their uses, and fun facts about the environment. He wasn’t his usual enigmatic self, either. He seemed lighter, almost enthusiastic, as he described a tiny wildflower you would’ve missed entirely.

“This particular species only blooms during the autumn months,” he said, crouching to show you. “Quite fascinating how it adapts to the cooler temperatures, don’t you think?”

You nodded, trying not to stare too hard at how his face lit up when he spoke. Jade was… cute? When he wasn’t talking about mushrooms in a way that made you question your mortality, he was actually kind of charming.

By the time you reached a rocky outcrop with a gorgeous view of the campus, you realized you’d been smiling for most of the hike. Jade noticed too.

“It seems I’ve made a decent impression,” he said, turning toward you with a soft grin. “I’m pleased to see you enjoying yourself.”

“It’s… relaxing,” you admitted, surprising even yourself. “I didn’t think it’d be this fun.”

Jade tilted his head. “Does that mean you’d consider joining the Mountain Lovers Club?”

You hesitated for a moment, but as you looked at the breathtaking view and the rare, genuine smile on his face, the answer came easily. “Yeah. I’ll join.”

For a split second, Jade’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly schooled his expression into his usual composed smile. “Wonderful. I must say, I wasn’t expecting this outcome, but I’m glad. It’s not every day someone sees the beauty in what I love.”

There was an odd warmth in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. As he turned to lead the way back, he added, “Now that we’re a team, I look forward to our next adventure.”

Jade Leech was genuinely happy. And, you realized, so were you.

Gargoyle Research Society

When you told Malleus you were joining the Gargoyle Research Society, his reaction was almost imperceptible at first. A slight widening of his eyes, a pause as though he was waiting to see if you were serious, and then—pure, unfiltered delight.

"You have an interest in gargoyles?" he asked, his voice both surprised and reverent, as if you'd just confessed to enjoying a rare and ancient art form.

You nodded. "Yeah. I think they're fascinating. The designs, the history… They’re like stone guardians with stories etched into them."

For a moment, Malleus simply looked at you, his emerald eyes shimmering like the light of distant stars. Then, as if unable to contain his joy, he smiled—a soft, genuine expression that sent a wave of warmth through the chilly Ramshackle evening.

"This pleases me greatly," he said, his tone unusually light. “Not many share my appreciation for gargoyles. Often, I speak of them, and others… how do I put it? Pretend to listen.”

“Well, I’m definitely not pretending,” you said, grinning. “I’m in for real.”

Malleus clasped his hands together in what could only be described as regal excitement. "Then I must share something with you. Sometimes, I create gargoyles myself."

“You what?” you asked, laughing in delight.

“Yes,” he replied earnestly, his eyes alight. “Carving stone requires patience, but there is a certain satisfaction in breathing life into something lifeless. Well, not literal life, of course, but a soul of sorts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the image of Malleus with a chisel and hammer popping into your head. “I never would have guessed. That’s… really cool.”

“I can show you some of my creations, if you’d like,” he offered, almost shyly.

“I’d love that,” you said, genuinely glad to have joined him. “I think I’m going to enjoy this club.”

The glow in his expression was impossible to miss. It wasn’t just that you had joined his club—it was that, for once, someone truly shared his passion. “And I am glad to have you,” he said softly.

In that moment, under the watchful eyes of the stone guardians scattered around campus, it felt like you had chosen exactly the right place.

Masterlist

tags: @techno-danger

a/n: it completely slipped my mind that ortho is a part of film studies sorry :(

[hemlock-dreams]

Not me absolutely frothing at the mouth about this AU. Can we get an info dump on the Lore? It's making me want to abandon my current Spideypool WIP for this. Absolutely terminal brainrot for this boy

BEHOLD: MASSIVE LORE DUMP!

Peter B. Parker is a young troublemaker who has a problem with authority. He also has a knack for picking tech apart and putting it back together, which puts him on the radar for a small-time gang that needs someone to act as their alarm system breaker for a big score.

Unfortunately, said score had bad intel and what was supposed to be a simple robbery turns out to be manslaughter when the resulting fire that was supposed to cover up their tracks ends up killing two guards.

Peter is tried as an adult with the rest of the gang and sentenced to Rykers for 5 years.

Check out the full page HERE.

At Rykers, Peter meets Marko Flint, who takes Peter under his wing. and teaches him how to survive and thrive when wearing the orange.

Life goes on for 5 years. He learns the trade, gets some tats, learns how to make some great shivs, and becomes a better criminal all around. Yay prison!

Peter gets out at 21, and reunites with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He does his best to clean up his act, but normal life is hard for someone who spent their formative years in prison.

(He also makes questionable hair and fashion choices. What can I say, he's catching up!)

He goes from job to job, trying to pay back his aunt and uncle for all their support but is completely unequipped for the 'real world.' After a few months working/getting fired from soul-crushing menial jobs (HS dropout!), he agrees to take 'one last job' with Marko that is 'guaranteed to set them up for life'.

*cough*

This robbery goes off without a hitch! No one is hurt and they make off after hitting a heavily armored Oscorp Transport with a ton of documents/tech that they aim to sell to the highest bidder.

The biggest mystery is that one glowing vial of untested, experimental serum they found...

Unfortunately, Oscorp doesn't take robbery lightly. Marko finds out through contacts that the serum (whatever it is) is too hot to sell on the market, so he instructs Peter to get rid of it so it can't be traced back to them.

Peter, a rational 22-year-old ex-con, 'gets rid of it' by mixing the serum into ink and tattooing it onto his wrist, triggering the start of his mutations.

It takes a bit, but Peter get's all the regular spiderman benefits (webs are organic), plus one more. The serum was created from the venom of the Portia Spider, a hunting/jumping spider known to be uniquely intelligent among arachnids.

Alongside the speed/strength/spideysense, Peter also grows some fangs that secrete a powerful venom.

The venom speeds up the body's processes, working almost like an insane performance booster and enhancing an injected person's strength, speed, and senses for a few hours.

Unfortunately, repeated doses also eventually induce shock, paralysis, and, later, death.

He gives a few samples of it to Marko as an exit fee.

Uncle Ben was suspicious of how Peter suddenly got so much money, but took him on good faith. But, while he was watching the news that covered the Oscorp robbery, connected the dots and had a blowout fight with Peter that ended with him having a cardiac event.

Unfortunately, he did not survive.

Aunt May and Peter were estranged over this for several years.

This event crushes Peter, sobering him up immediately. He goes back and gets his HS diploma, and works on night courses in college.

However, he spends much of his days wandering, angry at himself and what he did. He beats up a mugger one day and realizes that he could be using his powers to back up the faith Ben had in him.

Spiderman is born!

Eventually, he and Aunt May reunite, and their relationship is slowly healing.

A few years later, Peter is on the up. He and Aunt May are close again! He's got a bachelor's in computer science, has a (semi) steady job, and is well-liked as Spiderman by the populace at large. His rogue's gallery is roguing- etc.

Unfortunately, a variant of his venom (developed by Kingpin) hits the streets as a drug. It's favored by both criminals for its performance-enhancing strength, as well as civilians, for the time-slowing sensation/high it gives them.

His girlfriend, Mary Jane, who has been sober for a few years, relapses. Peter, knowing that he can't stop her from getting it on her own, reveals his identity and becomes her main source.

At least, this way, he can control the dosage.

Marko (who sold Peter's venom to Kingpin) manages to fire off his only two brain cells and realizes that Spiderman IS Peter Parker.

Then he outs him to the world because Spiderman made it personal.

Peter's life catches on fire. The entire world is after him. His loved ones have to go into hiding because there's no shortage of criminals and psychopaths who want to get their hands on MJ and Aunt May to get to Spiderman.

Peter ceases to exist. It's not safe anymore. He spends days (weeks? months?) in the suit. Eventually, on the run and burnt out, he pleads his case to Dr. Strange in desperation. (Ala No Way Home)

"Everyone deserves a clean start."

Dr. Strange agrees, but the spell can't work with Peter still existing as part of the equation. So it fires him off into a reality where Peter B. Parker, and by extension Spiderman, never existed.

So how's an ex-con/ex-superhero (for now) supposed to carve a space in a world that never knew him? By finding somewhere that doesn't ask any questions.

And it just so happens, that St. Margaret's School for Wayward Children has a reputation for both being a bar of questionable repute and looking the other way.

Might as well start there.

~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for this lovely, lovely ask! I hope this massive lore dump wasn't overkill, but I'm having a lot of fun with this world and wanted to share.

And I offer this lore dump ONLY on the condition that you do not drop whatever you're working on. There is always space for more spideypool in the world, don't deprive us!!!

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Still establishing some more lore and feelings. Currently, the Batfamily has two yanderes. With more yandere’s being revealed outside of Gotham and some in Gotham about to start falling into obsession. Also, my favorite Reader is one who is manipulated into thinking the collar around their neck is a necklace. Will be working on Part Three, but it might take longer because we have obsessions starting and Reader starting to get to a breaking point.

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Poor Reader has it rough. Not too rough, but still life kinda sucks and they wanna go home now, please and thank you.

But, as always, things start to brighten up a notch or two.

Reader is thriving at school, sure they can’t hang out with their friends, but their friends understand (which honestly kinda odd, but they’ll roll with it)

There is a small issue.

Reader is a metahuman. (I know, shocking. So unique.)

Reader controls the weather, at will or with extreme emotions (oooooo interesting)

Back in their hometown, Reader didn’t have to hide said abilities that much. (Hell, more than a few people knew about it. Such an understanding community.)

Here in Gotham, in a practical stranger’s house, they’re not gonna to that.

Which is fine. Fine fine fine

Okay, so Reader is tense. Doesn’t have a healthy outlet, and is bottling things up. So that storms brewing. Gonna be fun when that comes back to bite Reader in the ass.

But, things are looking up. (I swear this time!)

Duke and Cass are hanging out with Reader more. They’re sorta becoming a trio of amigos.

Though, they do disappear often. For long periods of time.

Reader is pretty sure Bruce is Batman, at this point.

They’re not stupid, it’s in their damn genetics to be somewhat intelligent, so to speak.

But, no one actually tells reader. It’s lead to some awkward situations of them going silent when Reader enters the room, or the manor being unusually empty after everyone went to the ‘library’.

(Smalltown doesn’t mean stupid, bunch of jerks.)

It just makes reader feel even less like they’re part of the family. Even Alfred disappears for a time, leaving Reader completely alone with nothing, but portraits and old wood furniture.

No one says anything. No one mentions a single thing. (Am I not worthy of the secret? Why did you drag me here only to ignore me?)

Bruce continue to bounce between ignoring and coddling. Yet gets upset if Reader does the same. (Making them anxious.)

Dick pops back in, immediately showering Reader and excessive amounts of affection before shooing them off cause he’s gotta take care of somethings. (It makes reader feel like a pet in a degrading way.)

Jason gets caught harassing Reader by Alfred. Which leads to a screaming match between Jason and Bruce. It’s a violent one, but Alfred drags Reader out of the room before they can see. (But they hear things breaking and It’s terrifying.)

After that, Reader is extremely cautious around Jason. Which for some reason makes him angry and more violent. (Why does he hate me? This is scary.)

Stephanie starts to come around. Slowly. They’re getting there. (Stephanie still prefers to hangout with Tim and Tim…)

Tim ignores Reader the most. Will not talk to Reader at all. Which sucks because Teader thinks they would total get along. (But, nope. All they get is the cold shoulder.)

Reader just avoids Damian like the plague.

Reader talks more often to her other half-brother living miles away than the one she’s currently living with. (That’s gonna piss Damian off later)

While Barbara remains cordial.

Life is moving on. We’re good. Everything’s good.

Wait? Gotham Academy is having its own student Gala? That sounds amazing! Getting dolled up, having a night with friends. Maybe…. Having a date escort them….

And the best part is, Bruce says Reader can go.

Now, Cass and Duke and Damian won’t be going. Which is a bummer, but Reader understands.

Bruce even buys reader something to wear.

An obnoxious designer outfit. (A couture ruffle monstrosity that’s all the rage on the runway.)

It’s so terrible you have to laugh. (Just to hide how upsetting it is that no one actually knows what you like here or bothers to ask.)

Reader even shows Stephanie and they share a laugh. (It’s great. Reader needed that laugh.)

But, there’s no way Reader is going to wear this. So, Reader calls their childhood friend and favorite fashion designer.

Commissioning a more mature outfit. (Reader is almost grown, time to take a break from the ruffles and embrace the sexy.)

BFF comes through and then a week later someone shows up at Wayne Manor. (Damn that was fast.)

Someone from Reader’s hometown, and this starts to set things in motion.

BFF’s older brother, Reader’s childhood crush, shows up holding a dress and driving Daddy’s old truck. Which he hands Reader the keys too.

Nana and Grand Daddy, the Step Grandparents, wanted to surprise reader with a gift from home. (Remind Reader how much better living in a smalltown is compared to somewhere like Gotham. How much their town adores them and misses them.)

Poor oblivious Reader. Not realizing their smalltown is so desperate to have them back. (Reader was their’s first, they know Reader best.)

Nor how desperate Gotham is going to be to make force reader to stay.

[sailortongue]

Unexpected Consequences

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: a temporary lapse in judgment results in a drunken one-night stand with unexpected consequences

wc: 2.1k

cw: accidental pregnancy, implied sex. if there's anything you think should be added lmk!

navi | k.s. mlist | series mlist

----------

“You’re out!” Shouted the umpire. It was the visiting team's third player to strike out, signaling the end of the last inning of the championship game and a massive win for the Giants. 

The locker room was alive with the sounds of laughter and celebration from the players. They did it. They had won the title. “We should go out tonight,” suggested the pitcher. Some of the players declined, citing that they were beat after the game. But Kenji was on a high from the win, his ego thriving like never before (and that was saying something).

“Got a place in mind?” Kenji asked. And that was how he found himself sitting on a barstool with a handful of his teammates, mostly the younger ones. He felt like he was on top of the world. He was young, successful, good looking, and one of the greatest living baseball players. And now, he had a shiny new title to brag about. Life couldn’t possibly be any better.

Except, maybe, if the pretty girl across the bar would give him her attention. He could see you from where he was sitting, and he found himself frequently glancing in your direction. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. His teammate Shiroki leaned over to see what, or rather who, had so completely captured the attention of their star player. He clapped Kenji on the shoulder, laughing. “Should’ve known it was a pretty girl that’s got you ignoring us!”

“I wasn’t ignoring you!” Kenji protested, his face growing red after he’d been called out for all ears in the establishment to hear. Including yours. When he glanced once more in your direction, you were looking back. You gave him a small, polite smile before returning your attention to the cellphone in your hand. Your expression was one of dejectedness as you sighed and placed your phone face down on the bar top.

Amidst the teasing of his teammates (that truthfully he was ignoring in favor of you), he took a swig of his drink and decided to bite the bullet. If not now then never. He hopped off of his stool and walked over to you. “Is this seat taken?” He asked, gesturing to the empty stool next to you.

“You tell me since you’ve been watching since I sat down,” you said with a playful twinkle in your eyes. 

Kenji cringed. So you had noticed even before Shiroki practically shouted it to the entire bar. He scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly, head hung low in shame and embarrassment as he struggled to find the words to redeem himself. He settled for a simple “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You seemed taken aback by his words, not having expected him to own up to his actions and be respectful. “Thank you,” you said. He was handsome—that much was obvious. But it was this that really caught your attention. “So, are you going to sit or not?” You asked. 

Kenji grinned and took the place next to you, angling his body towards yours rather than the countertop. He stuck his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Kenji.”

“I’m Yn,” you responded, taking his offer for a handshake to find that his hand completely engulfed yours. 

The two of you ended up talking on and on, having drink after drink and gradually getting to know each other. You learned that he was an athlete celebrating a win with his team and that he’d only moved back to Japan a few months ago. Kenji learned that the reason you were here alone is because you were supposed to be meeting someone but they never showed up. “His loss,” Kenji had said. “Any man to stand up a woman as pretty as you is a fool.”

He complimented you continuously throughout the night, his honeyed words sending heat to both your face and your core. As the night wore on, his teammates came up to him to wish him a good night and inform him that they were leaving for the night. It was getting late, but neither of you were ready to leave each other's company. 

“Do you wanna go back to my place?” Kenji asked, his hand on your thigh leaving no room for doubt as to what he was offering. 

The alcohol in your system had long since excised your inhibitions, including any form of higher thinking. All you could focus on was Kenji’s hand on your thigh and how much you wanted it somewhere else. Somewhere higher. You accepted his offer with no hesitation. 

A short cab ride later and you were stumbling into his bedroom with his lips firmly on yours and his hands impatiently pulling at your dress. You reached behind your back to tug at the zipper, and he took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the toned muscle beneath. 

You all but gawked at him and your body seemed to have the same effect on him. His eyes raked up and down your figure, pleased to find you hadn’t been wearing a bra. You sat at the edge of his bed as you watched him strip the remainder of his clothes. The second he was bare he was on you, wanting—needing—to feel you under him. He was everywhere all at once, eager to make you feel good and to feel good himself. Little sleep was had that night. 

-❀-

You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache and no memory of the night before, but you could make a pretty good guess based on your lack of clothes and the pair of arms wrapped around you. You sat up slowly so as not to wake the man sleeping soundly next to you. It was Kenji, from the night before at the bar. You’d actually gone home with him. One night stands weren’t something you made a habit of but you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret this one.

You carefully removed his arm from where it had fallen limply across your lap and rose from the bed to collect your clothes, still being as quiet as possible. You wracked your brain for any shred of a memory but came up blank. You couldn’t believe you’d slept with the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and couldn’t even remember it. Your attention was drawn to a mirror hung on the wall and you saw that your neck was littered with blue and purple splotches. An attentive lover. Drunk-you must have had fun. Meanwhile, sober-you was calling a cab and hoping the driver didn’t say anything about what was so obviously the walk of shame. 

Weeks went by and the days were normal. Ish. You’d been sick every morning for the past week and were struggling to hold food down. You’d brushed it off as a stomach bug that would clear up on its own, but your friend wasn’t as naïve as you. 

The day you confided in her about what you’d been struggling with, she dropped by your apartment after work to bring a pregnancy test. “Here,” she said, thrusting the bag into your hands. “And I'm not leaving until you take it.”

You nodded, accepting the very real possibility that she was right. Why didn’t you think to get plan B the next morning? God, you were so stupid. So there you were, sitting on the bathroom floor with your knees pulled to your chest, waiting on the timer to finish as Ami sat next to you, doing her best to ease your anxiety. 

When the timer went off, you remained in your seated position. “Do you want me to check instead?” Ami offered. You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steel your nerves. You extended your arm above your head and took the test into your hands. Two solid lines. A positive result. Your friend looked over your shoulder to see for herself. “. . . Are you okay?” She asked. 

“I don’t know,” you replied, voice weak and trembling. You looked at her with wide, worried eyes. “What do I do?”

“Make an OBGYN appointment just to be sure. Do you know who the father is?”

There was only one man you had slept with any time recently. “Uh, he said his name was Kenji. Don’t know his last name though. Oh! And he’s a baseball player.”

She inhaled sharply and pulled her phone from her pocket and typed furiously into the search bar. She turned the screen for you to see. “Him?!” She exclaimed. 

You looked at the image she pulled up. “Yeah, that’s him,” you gasped, shocked she’d found him so quickly. You took the phone from her and scrolled through the article she’d pulled up. Kenji Sato, as you’d learned his last name to be, wasn’t just any baseball player. He was in the professional league and a rising household name. 

“Can you contact him?” She asked. You shook your head no. Ami pursed her lips before resigning herself to whatever it was she was considering. She gestured for her phone back. You gave it to her and she opened her contacts, scrolling until she found the name she was looking for. “You know him?” You asked incredulously.

She nodded. “I’ve interviewed him before.” She called his number before you could refuse and put the phone on speaker, allowing the dial tone to ring throughout the small bathroom. He picked up on the third ring, answering with a simple hello.

“Hi, Mr. Sato. This is—“

“I remember who you are,” Kenji laughed. “Is there something you need?”

Ami hesitated, seeing you aggressively shaking your head to not outright tell him. She tried to hold the phone out to you to speak but you point blank refused. You had both been so drunk you weren’t sure if he remembered you at all. A drawn out “hello” called out from the phone and Ami sighed. “I think it would be best to speak in person. It’s very important.”

“Um, okay. I’ll have to check my schedule to see when I’m free, but I’ll get back to—“

“No, Mr. Sato, it can’t wait indefinitely. Please, I need you to trust me and make just a little bit of time.” Kenji was taken aback by how firm Ami’s voice was. What was happening on her end that needed his immediate attention? Curiosity won him over and he suggested a cafe that stayed open late to meet at. 

You put the address into your phone and thanked Ami for her help. Sure, this wasn’t the best way to go about things, but it’s not like you had ever been in this position before. You and Ami walked out to your cars together, hugging each other goodbye before going on your separate ways—her to her mother and daughter, and you to inform your baby daddy that he is, in fact, a baby daddy now. 

Upon arriving, you saw that it was a cute cafe along the main road. The building was well lit within, allowing you to see that Kenji had already arrived. If you waited any longer you’d chicken out, so you took a deep breath and marched inside. Kenji looked up at the door as the bell chimed, his face changing from one of disinterest to shock and recognition.

You approached the table he was at and pulled out a chair, sitting across from him. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but I’m supposed to be meeting a friend here,” he said apologetically.

The best you could muster up was an awkward smile, your nerves eating you alive from the inside out. “I know. Ami Wakita, right? She’s a friend of mine as well. She actually called on my behalf.”

A grin spread across his face. “Did you miss me so much you just had to see me tonight?” You felt his foot brush against your ankle under the table. 

Your face burned with heat at his insinuation. “It's not like that!”

He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “No? Because I was hoping to see you again but you were gone when I woke up.”

You averted your gaze sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t usually . . .” you trailed off. 

He gave you an understanding look. “It’s alright. For the record, I don’t either. That night was . . .” 

It seemed he didn’t have the words either, unable to express that he wished it hadn’t been just a one-night thing. “So,“ he abruptly changed the topic. “Why did you need to see me so badly?”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line, contemplating how best to say it. No use beating around the bush. “I’m pregnant.”

His jaw dropped open and his eyes were the size of dinner plates. And so were those of the reporter at a nearby table. 

next

[hellishjoel]

reborn

1.4k / pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Joel’s long hair is a testament to a long life in Jackson, Wyoming. He hasn’t had time to get it cut since the birth of his daughter. 

warnings/information:  joel’s long hair appreciation post!!!!!, fluff, established relationship, a little swearing, soft!joel, girl dad!joel, jackson!joel, mother f!reader, ellie and joel are just fine okay!!, obvious maria appreciation, reader doesn’t have a physical appearance but has given birth

A/N: this is super short and I wrote it in 24 hours - you all know why we’re here, we saw that new picture of long haired joel miller and yadayadayada now we’re here! graphics by @saradika-graphics

There’s a new baby in Jackson. 

One more teeny tiny resident. The population sign must be repainted to acknowledge its three hundred and fifth resident. 

And she’s your little girl. 

She’s not just perfect, she’s the center of your universe. Wrapped in a freshly hand-washed baby pink blanket, a testament to the hours of labor in Jackson’s makeshift delivery room. Joel held your hand throughout. 

This was his second child, but his first with you. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and you promised to stand by him, even if you could never truly understand the pain tangled with newfound joy. 

But you should have seen the way his eyes softened at the first sight of her. Everything changed, for the both of you. His once-buried fatherly instincts took over, walking with the delivery nurse from your bed to the small cleaning station. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.

Already so protective and wound around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath and wailed her first cry. 

Scream it, little one, tell the world you’re here and that you’re ours. You are already so loved with your big glowing eyes and round cheeks, your small hands curled into your chest, and you kick your tiny little feet. Stomp, roar, live. 

You’re born into the most dangerous time in history, but your parents are here to protect you. The moment your baby girl was born, you and Joel were reborn. 

One month old, and nothing has changed. Except for your and Joel’s sleep schedules. Tommy gave Joel temporary leave from patrol duties, which Joel did not protest. He found it impossible some days to leave the house for food and supplies. 

Ellie was helpful. Despite no blood relation, she and Joel shared many qualities. She didn’t let you lift a finger if she could help it. She had moved into the garage a few months back. After all, she was a teenager who loved having space.

“You sure you don’t just wanna move back inside the house, Ellie?” She was here more often than not, and her company and help were dearly appreciated.

“And wake up to a crying baby twelve times in the middle of the night? I love you guys, but no thanks,” she teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“That’s fair. But the offer still stands.”

Ellie shrugs nonchalantly and lands beside you on the couch, laying her head on your shoulder as you both stare lovingly down at the baby sleeping soundly in your arms. 

“I know, but you should make my old room the baby’s new one. Besides, Joel just set up my stereo, and I blast that thing non-stop. No baby is gonna like that.” 

“Oh, trust me, we know.” You whisper as you kiss the top of her head, your cheek nudging against her brunette tresses tied back into a ponytail.

Ellie cooks some sort of monstrosity in the kitchen upon Joel’s return from Tommy and Maria’s. He holds piles of Maria’s hand-sewn diapers and onesies. She was a God send, a woman you consider a Jill of all trades. 

Oh, Maria. She always desired that Jackson would not fall into turmoil like most of the country had surely found its way to. In her eyes, Jackson would remain a thriving and welcoming community to those who were good of heart. 

That woman worked to the bone to ensure that Jackson’s residents were safe and happy. Living here was like living in a snow globe, safe from the outside world and protected from danger. 

As the de facto leader of the Jackson settlement, she wore many hats. From trading and supplies to security and community welfare, Maria made it her mission to ensure that all new families found their new home in Jackson to be an inviting one—a safe haven from their old lives and here to start anew. 

“Maria bartered for new cotton,” Joel whispers as he enters the living room, quiet so as not to stir the baby. 

“She did?” You ask softly, sitting up slightly as you feel his hand cup your cheek from above, tilting your head back so he can give you a proper kiss. 

“Yeah, she was gonna try and find somethin’ alternative to cotton for the diapers, but they set her up with some scavenged materials and clothing to make lots of diapers out of. Plus, gave her some stuff to cultivate it here. Y’know, be self-sufficient.” 

“Wow,” you mutter tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as your daughter begins to twitch in your arms. “I think she hears her daddy’s voice.” 

Joel cooes softly, quick to drop the items off on the kitchen counter with haphazard abandon. He grunts quietly as his knees scream for rest until he sits beside you on the couch with open palms. You delicately hand him the baby, and his eyes twinkle at the sight of her. He was adorably cute when he baby-babbled, though he swears he never does. 

“Hi sweet wittle girl, pretty pwincess, did you have a good day with mommy?” 

It takes you this long to realize how much his hair has grown out. Your fingers softly weave into the greying curls, twirling one around your finger before you let it fall into its natural waves. 

“It’s so long, baby,” you whisper like honey.

He lets out a quiet chuckle and absentmindedly leans into your touch. “I’know. Haven’t had time to get it cut,” he turns his attention back to the little girl swaddled in his arms, “and I think I know who’s been keepin’ me so damn busy.” 

You hum and gently clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, truly in awe of how long they were. You’ve never seen him let it get this long. As Joel would say, this is Tommy long. But was there really a look he couldn’t pull off?

“I, uh, I don’t want you to cut it.” Your words come off shy and sweet, making him melt as he slowly turns to look at you with a raised brow. 

“Is that so?” His southern twang rolls freely off his tongue. 

“Mhm, you look so handsome. I think I would cry if you got rid of that thick mane of yours.” 

He chuckles again, a low and sultry one. “Alright. I’ll keep puttin’ up with it.”

“Mmm, please do. It’s sorta doin’ somethin’ for me.” 

Joel pauses and watches as the aging sunlight shines over your face. He takes your hand in his large calloused one and squeezes, circling his thumb along your wrist. “You’ve given me a life I sometimes don’t feel like I deserve. A happy one. I don’t think there’s a way I can ever say thank you or I love you enough for how my life has turned out. Without you, I might be dead.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his own, both of your eyes falling closed. “You are deserving of every moment of happiness in this life. You make my life worth living. You saved us.” 

Joel lets out a wet chuckle, kissing the tip of your nose before meeting your lips delicately. 

In this light, the amber glow of the sun setting just beyond the walls outside, he’s so handsome. It truly makes your heart skip a beat. After all these years of pain, loss, and suffering, Joel is happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to make him. 

During the first few weeks in this new and unfamiliar settlement, Joel would shoot up in the middle of the night, upset that he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t slept in a home with four solid walls in so long, none of you had. You remember the first night he slept soundly, snoring like a madman and nuzzling into his pillow. He was safe. There were no clickers in waiting, no scavengers to fend off. His people were protected. He could breathe. 

Never did you once think that at the ends of the world, there would be room for you to feel like this. Reborn. It led you to Joel and Ellie and continued with your baby girl. Your lives are getting a second chance. 

You didn’t know how long it would stay like this because nothing was forever. But you would wake up tomorrow morning and run a hand through Joel’s hair, through the pretty curls that tickled his neck, and the opportunity for it to keep growing would be another sign that your lives weren’t ending. They were only just beginning.

main masterlist | notifications blog

[emmkayyy03]

✨ How Your Dominant Planet Secretly Shapes Your Teenage Brain ✨

Have you ever looked back at your late teens and wondered why you were so obsessed with certain things? Like, one friend was glued to their guitar and poetry journals, another was training for their fifth marathon, and you? You were probably neck-deep in your thing. Here’s the deal: your dominant planet was pulling the strings behind the scenes, shaping how your mind worked and what you gravitated toward without you even realizing it.

Let’s break it down:

🌞 SUN Dominant: "I need to shine—what’s the point otherwise?" Late teens for Sun-kissed folks are like a personal hero’s journey. You’re obsessed with figuring out who you are. Your brain’s constantly asking, Am I good enough? Do people see my worth? You might’ve been the captain of the debate team, the drama club star, or just that person who somehow made walking to the cafeteria look like a runway. How your mind works: Everything feels like a stage, and you want to perform your best—even in front of yourself. You seek validation, yes, but deep down, it’s about finding your inner confidence.

🌙 MOON Dominant: "I feel… everything. Is that normal?" For Moon folks, the late teens are an emotional hurricane. You’re all about understanding feelings, whether it’s yours or everyone else’s. You probably overthink texts (why’d they only reply with “k”?), cry over movies you’ve seen a million times, and have deep, borderline-therapeutic convos with your bestie. How your mind works: You process the world emotionally first, logically second. You’re learning how to handle your empathy without drowning in it.

🔥 MARS Dominant: "Let’s go! But… where are we going?" Mars kids are powered by action and passion, and your late teens are when you’re learning to channel that fire. Your brain thrives on challenges, so you probably signed up for every sport, pushed yourself in the gym, or got way too into proving someone wrong in an argument. Impulse control? We’ll work on that later. How your mind works: You process through doing. Sitting around theorizing makes you twitchy. You need action, even if it’s messy. Picking fights on the basketball court because the ref made a bad call, then realizing you’re actually just mad your crush didn’t text you back.

💬 MERCURY Dominant: "Wait, how does that work? Tell me everything!" Mercury-dominant teens are curiosity machines. Your brain’s like a search engine that never stops running. You want to know why, how, who, and what if. You’re that kid who can’t let a fun fact go without looking it up. Debates? Bring ’em on. Trivia? Your jam. Group chats? You run them. How your mind works: You connect ideas at lightning speed. Learning isn’t just a necessity; it’s your love language. Staying up until 3 a.m. watching YouTube videos about conspiracy theories, then showing up to school explaining why aliens totally built the pyramids.

💎 VENUS Dominant: "Why settle for okay when life can be beautiful?" Your late teens are a crash course in pleasure, relationships, and aesthetics. You’re probably experimenting with your style (cue questionable fashion phases), figuring out love (hello, hopeless romantic), or diving into art and music. Life needs to feel good, or it’s just not worth it. How your mind works: You’re tuned to beauty and connection. Your decisions are emotional but driven by desire—whether it’s for love, art, or the perfect selfie.Spending an hour perfecting your eyeliner just to go to the grocery store because what if you meet someone cute?

🌍 SATURN Dominant: "I’m too busy for nonsense." While your friends are out making impulsive mistakes, you’re busy building your future. Saturn-dominant teens have an old-soul vibe. You’re focused on responsibility, probably working a part-time job while juggling school and worrying about saving for college. Fun? Sure, but only if it’s productive. How your mind works: You crave structure and long-term success. While others wing it, you plan 10 steps ahead. Skipping a party to study for finals because failing isn’t an option—not because of pressure, but because you expect better from yourself.

🚀 RAHU Dominant: "What’s the wildest thing I can do right now?" Rahu teens are like explorers charting unknown territory. You’re obsessed with breaking rules, chasing thrills, and doing the forbidden. If it’s edgy, you’re into it. You’re the one sneaking out, dyeing your hair neon green, or trying things that make adults nervous. How your mind works: You’re wired to seek more. More excitement, more knowledge, more of life’s extremes. Going on a spontaneous road trip with friends, breaking the rules, or getting into something your parents wouldn’t approve of—just because it felt like the next big adventure.

🌌 KETU Dominant: "I’m here, but also not really here." Ketu teens are all about spiritual detachment. You’re introspective, reflective, and a bit aloof. While everyone else is chasing their dreams, you’re figuring out why dreams matter at all. Meditation, tarot, or even just staring at the stars for hours—you’re vibing on a higher plane. How your mind works: You reject surface-level stuff, diving into the depths of existence. But you also need to learn to be present. Skipping out on big social events to sit at a park by yourself, journaling about the mysteries of life, or getting into spiritual practices like meditation because they felt more authentic than anything else.

🚀 JUPITER Dominant: "Knowledge is freedom, and I’m going after it!" Jupiter-dominant teens are all about growth, knowledge, and the bigger picture. Your late teens were likely filled with plans for the future, exploring new ideas, and constantly looking for ways to improve. You may have been the one always talking about your next big trip, your dream career, or the philosophies that shaped your world view. How your mind works: You crave expansion and understanding. Learning is your path to freedom. Deep-diving into a topic you just discovered, researching potential career paths, or discussing ideas about travel, culture, and self-improvement with anyone who would listen. Your teenage years were wild, weren’t they? Which planet had your brain on lock? Reblog with your planetary dominant and let’s compare chaotic late-teen stories. 🌠

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to “cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.

[impsandstars]

This, right here, is the moment I was hoping was going to be in this episode.

Millie, when Blitz is at his lowest, when he has been telling himself for years that everyone he has every been close to has been destroyed by him, says no, you're wrong. You have made me a better person. You gave me the courage to be something more than I ever thought I could be. You being so unapologetically you is inspiring. You helped me and I love and cherish our relationship because of that.

Because that's what Blitz does. He helps people.

He helped Loona get out of a horrible situation and provided for her an environment where she could thrive and be herself.

He helped Moxxie start over. Gave him a job where the murdering is (for the most part) justified (or at least done with 'good' intentions). Where he too is allowed to be himself. Musical theatre nerd and all.

He helped Stolas realize that it is okay to want. That it is okay to be selfish for once in his life and pursue something that truly makes him happy. Blitz showed him a part of himself that he either didn't know about or had locked away a very long time ago.

He needed to hear this. He needs to hear so much more of this from the important people in his life and I hope that along this journey we get to see how much he is loved by those around him and how much good he has done.

[magical-reid]

The rings we keep

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!FBI!Reader

Genre: fluff

Content warnings: none?

Word count: 1.6k

The badge clipped to your belt was as much a part of you as the Glock strapped to your hip. Being an FBI agent meant long hours, endless yellow tape, and the occasional brush with danger that left you rattled for days. But you loved it. You thrived in the chaos, the adrenaline, the chance to make a difference.

Still, nothing could have prepared you for the chaos of being married to Spencer Reid.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t kind or brilliant—he was both, in spades. Spencer was a walking encyclopedia with a heart that quietly held more compassion than most people knew. You hadn’t planned on marrying him, though, in fact, neither of you had planned on marrying anyone.

It had started two months ago, in a Las Vegas hospital room. Spencer’s mother, Diana, had been lucid that day—something you’d learned was both a gift and a curse. She had smiled at you as you sat next to Spencer, the three of you chatting about books, the weather, and old stories from her youth.

“You’re so good to him,” Diana had said suddenly, fixing her gaze on you.

You’d looked up, confused.

“She is,” Spencer had replied, his voice soft as he squeezed her hand.

“Marry her,” Diana had said, her words clear and direct. “Spencer, I want to see you happy. And I want to see you married before you have to leave.”

Leave. It had been a terrible misunderstanding, her mind tangling the threads of the past and present. But the plea in her voice had been real, and Spencer hadn’t been able to bear telling her no. He’d looked at you, something fragile and desperate in his eyes, and before you knew it, you’d agreed.

The walk-in chapel had been surreal. There was no big dress, no flowers—just a quick exchange of vows, a ring from a pawn shop, and Diana’s tearful smile as she watched from her seat. The moment had been oddly sweet, almost sacred.

And then the moment had passed.

You’d both agreed to annul it later, but life got in the way. Between your cases and his, you barely had time to sleep, let alone complete the paperwork. Eventually, Spencer had suggested staying married, if only for the convenience.

“It’s easier,” he’d reasoned. “Legally, I mean. Besides, it’s not like it changes anything.”

And for two months, it hadn’t.

Today, though, felt different.

The case you were working on had taken a grim turn, and your unit chief had decided to call in the BAU. You hadn’t protested—it was a particularly brutal series of murders, and their expertise was invaluable. But when you stepped into the police station that morning and saw Penelope Garcia’s face light up like Christmas, you knew she’d snooped.

“Mrs. Reid!” she chirped, her voice barely contained.

You froze mid-step, narrowing your eyes at her. “Not here,” you hissed under your breath.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she whispered conspiratorially, winking. “My lips are sealed… mostly.”

Before you could respond, your unit chief waved you into the conference room. The BAU was already seated, their attention split between a whiteboard covered in crime scene photos and a map dotted with pins.

Spencer was there, of course, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He didn’t look up when you entered, but his presence was enough to send a twinge of nervous energy through you.

Your unit chief cleared his throat. “Agent Reid, thanks for joining us. BAU, this is Agent Y/N Reid—she’s with our unit and will be helping coordinate the case on our end.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. You saw Emily Prentiss glance at Spencer, her brow raised in mild amusement. Derek Morgan’s smirk was almost immediate, while JJ covered her mouth, clearly trying to hide her surprise.

“Reid?” Derek repeated his grin widening.

“Y/N Reid,” you said firmly, emphasizing your first name. “Yes. We’re married. No, it’s not relevant to the case.”

Penelope let out an audible squeal from the corner of the room, and you shot her a warning glare.

“It’s not relevant,” Spencer agreed, his voice calm but his ears slightly pink. “Can we move on?”

Derek chuckled but relented, turning his attention back to the board. “Alright, let’s get to it.”

The case was grim—a string of murders targeting young women who all bore a striking resemblance to one another. Blond hair, blue eyes, petite builds. They’d been abducted, held for days, then left posed in public spaces. The unsub was meticulous, methodical, and growing more confident with each kill.

By midday, the conference room was a storm of theories and strategies. Your units worked well together, bouncing ideas off one another as new leads emerged. But despite the progress, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

It wasn’t the unsub—though God knew you’d had stalkers in your line of work. No, this was different.

You looked up from your notes and caught Spencer’s gaze. He quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the map.

The weight in your chest grew heavier.

Spencer was your husband. Legally, at least. But in every other way, he was your coworker. He was brilliant and kind and occasionally maddening, but you didn’t know how to be his wife. Not really.

“Y/N?”

JJ’s voice broke through your thoughts. You blinked, realizing everyone was looking at you.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, you and Reid should interview the victim’s roommate together. She might be more comfortable with a familiar face,” JJ said, glancing between you and Spencer.

You hesitated, but Spencer nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. “We’ll take my car.”

The drive was awkward.

Spencer fidgeted with the radio, flipping through stations before settling on classical. You stared out the window, trying to ignore the growing tension between you.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said finally.

“So have you.”

He sighed, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Are you… okay? With everyone knowing, I mean.”

You frowned. “It’s not like we planned this, Spencer. Besides, it was bound to come out eventually.”

“I know. But I don’t want it to make things harder for you.”

You softened at his words. Despite his sometimes awkward demeanor, Spencer had a way of saying the right thing when it mattered most.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Really.”

He nodded, though he didn’t look convinced.

The interview went smoothly, though it yielded little new information. The roommate was distraught, her hands trembling as she recounted the last time she’d seen the victim. You kept your tone gentle, and your questions open-ended, but the answers all led to the same dead ends.

When you returned to the station, the atmosphere had shifted. Penelope was typing furiously at her laptop, muttering under her breath about search parameters. Emily and Derek were deep in conversation, while Hotch stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed.

“We have a lead,” he announced as you and Spencer entered. “The unsub’s car was spotted near a bus station downtown. Surveillance footage shows him leaving the scene shortly after the last victim was found.”

He gestured to the screen, where a grainy image of a man in a baseball cap appeared. His face was partially obscured, but something about his posture sent a chill down your spine.

“The station is less than a mile from here,” Hotch continued. “We need to move quickly.”

Your team sprang into action, splitting into smaller groups to cover more ground. Spencer was assigned to the tech team with Penelope, while you were paired with Emily and Derek to canvass the area.

As you searched the bus station, your instincts prickled. Something about the unsub felt personal—too calculated, too deliberate. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching, waiting.

When your phone buzzed with a text from Spencer, your heart skipped a beat.

Be careful.

You texted back a quick You too before slipping the phone into your pocket.

Hours later, the unsub made his move.

It happened fast—too fast. You were alone, having split off from Emily and Derek to follow a potential lead. The unsub cornered you in an alley, his knife glinting in the dim light.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your blood ran cold. He knew your name.

“FBI,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you drew your weapon. “Drop the knife.”

He didn’t. Instead, he smiled—a slow, deliberate smile that made your stomach churn.

“You’re just like her,” he murmured. “So pretty. So perfect.”

Before you could respond, footsteps thundered behind you. The unsub’s smile faltered, and he turned to run, but not before Spencer tackled him to the ground.

The knife clattered to the pavement as Spencer wrestled him into submission. You moved quickly, cuffing the unsub as Spencer caught his breath.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice tight with concern.

You nodded, though your hands were shaking. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

He offered a small smile, but his eyes lingered on you, searching for any sign of injury.

Back at the station, the unsub’s confession came easily. He’d been stalking his victims for months, studying their routines, their habits. He’d seen you on the news once, years ago, and decided you were his ideal type.

The realization made your skin crawl.

“You saved her life, pretty boy,” Derek said, clapping Spencer on the shoulder. “That’s what husbands are for, right?”

Spencer flushed, but his smile was genuine.

Later, as you packed up to leave, Spencer lingered by your side.

“You didn’t have to come after me,” you said softly.

“Yes, I did,” he replied without hesitation.

For the first time since your wedding day, you felt the weight of the ring on your finger. Maybe this marriage wasn’t as complicated as you thought.

Maybe, just maybe, it was exactly where you were meant to be.

Part 2

[lovesickhughes]

juno | jack hughes

❝𝒾, 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝑜, 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽? 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒❞ 🤍🌷👼🏼✨

a/n: i have managed to scrounge together a little piece as confirmation that i am still alive, and i would say thriving, but school has consumed me. i love myself a good dad!jack fic so here we are! soo happy hockey is back in action though, more good things to come, i hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻💐

tags: soontobedad!jack hughes x pregnant!reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, fluffff

word count: 2.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You were so pregnant; and you didn't realize what other moms meant until you were two weeks out of your due date, and every function of your working body felt exhausting. Even sleeping had got to the point of being a discomfort. If it weren't for your queen-sized mattress, and a human-sized pillow that coddled your body at night, you wouldn't have been surprised if people had questioned your existence.

Despite the aching desire for the next two weeks of uncertainty to pass by within a breath, you loved being pregnant. It was the best thing to ever occur for Jack and you, other than your marriage and pre-existing life together. And when you found out you were expecting from a delayed period and peed on stick, the warmth that spread through your body was an unforgettable experience.

When Jack found out, through a card placed within a basket of Dad-related gag gifts, he had thought you were pulling a joke. It never once had crossed his mind the dream of starting a family would actually become a reality. But after a twenty-minute long reassurance conversation, Jack and you going back and forth between if you were being honest or not, the hug Jack engulfed you in was the tightest hug ever imagined.

You shared the special moment between the two of you, before sharing the news to extended family when safe. Then at the end of Jack's hockey season, you announced to the world the new family member you would be welcoming to the family, your little June Bug in reference to their due date.

Now, at the end of the NHL season, the winning team having been awarded the most difficult trophy to win in sports, award season rolled around within a blink of an eye. Jack was fortunate enough to be nominated for the King Clancy award for the past season, as well as his brother Quinn being nominated for his own awards for his past season success.

With that, the arrangements began taking place, you were in contact with Jack's management, organizing all of the needs for both his and your's appearance to the award show; entailing what suit and dress you would be wearing, how long your stay would be, and all the precautions regarding your pregnancy.

The morning of the award show, you were awoken to the intense strain of your bladder from your growing baby laying ever-so-slightly on just the right spot to cause a disturbance; waking you at a dawning 7:48 AM, when the alarm was set for 9:00 AM.

You scolded yourself as you leveraged yourself off of the mattress and in the direction of the attached bathroom of your hotel suite, hearing the fabric of the mattress rub against Jack's body as he stirred at your movement.

After using the bathroom, brushing your teeth and beginning to waken fully, you waddle back to your bed, rubbing the small of your back in an attempt to relieve some of the strain the weight of your stomach was causing to your body.

Once propped in bed with three pillows supporting your back as you sat upright, Jack's soft breaths caught your attention, causing you to look over at his peaceful state, envying his relaxation that you dreaded on feeling once again. He was on his stomach, arms beside his head as his legs were sprawled out along the length of the mattress, and as if he could feel your gaze while asleep, he began to stir, legs closing in and stretching to awaken.

His head lifted, his hair messily arranged from sleeping in one position all night.

"G'morning, baby." He groggily spoke, clearing his throat as he squinted his eyes. He rolled to his side, resting his head into the palm of his hands, contouring his muscles in a way that made you ogle him in a suggestive manner.

"Good morning, you." You smiled.

"Did our little Junebug wake you up?" He questioned through a wide smile, his eyes diverted to your large bulge of a stomach before pushing the duvet from your body to reveal your pregnancy and place a hand under your sleep shirt, rubbing his calloused hands against your skin.

Whether it was the baby kicking, or the butterflies of flattery from Jack's actions, you felt a sensation within your body, causing you to smile even harder than before.

"Oh, you know she woke me up, it's what she does best." You spoke softly, "Sit right on my bladder." You laughed, earning a grin from Jack.

He shuffled in the bed closer to your body, sliding his hand from the top of your bump, to your hip and slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts. His face was now aligned with your bump, and you knew exactly what actions were to follow.

"Hello my little June Bug," Jack cooed, pausing as if he were waiting for a response, "Mommy and I have a special day today, we get to dress up real nice and fancy, and have our pictures taken; and maybe we'll even get to see your Daddy on stage when he wins his award." He smirked while shooting his gaze up to you who watched intently. He rubbed his thumb along your hip while he spoke, causing his touch to send signals of warmth through your entire body.

Your hand found Jack's luscious brown hair at the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers through the softness while you listened to his routinely morning conversation with your growing baby. What warms your heart the most, is each time the baby kicks, sending butterflies through your stomach and the sensation traveling to Jack's hands, his face always lit up in the same expression of being completely awestruck at the feeling.

Jack and you continued your time in bed for not much longer until you were needing to get up and start your day, quickly piecing together outfits that you had packed for the trip and heading down to the main foyer of the hotel lobby, setting yourselves on the way to grab brunch.

Hand in hand, you walked along the busy sidewalk of the hosting city, the occasional fan mentioning their sighting of Jack by calling for his attention or asking to take pictures with him. You loved seeing Jack interact with fans outside of games, especially kids, because it was as if it were a glimpse of what he would be like as a father. He'd ask the kids what their interests were, if they were excited for upcoming games and what they wanted to do when they grew up. Seeing his compassion and caring demeanor around the fans made you more than happy to pause your plans and help make a child's day.

After breakfast, Jack and you headed back to the hotel, being on a tight schedule of needing to be at the arena where the award show was being hosted, at a prime five o'clock. Smoothies in hand, you made it up to your designated room, and Jack quickly kissed your cheek before slipping into the bathroom to shower before the show. You opened the closet doors that were to your right, grabbing the two bagged outfits that you had fitted for this event. Considering you were pregnant at the time of the fitting, and knew you were still going to be by the time of the awards, you went with a soft, breathable and comfortable material, knowing beforehand that you would want to cause the least amount of discomfort to your swollen, aching, and still growing belly.

You plopped down onto the mattress in your hotel room, letting out an exhausted breath, as your pregnancy had reached the point of the simplest tasks becoming overwhelmingly tiring. You reached a hand to the small of your back again, similarly to when you woke up, becoming more aware of the excruciating ache from the weight of your belly.

Deciding to push it to the back of your mind to the best of your ability, you hung your dress and Jack's suit on the closet door for when you two were ready to change.

You knew Jack would air on the side of caution in regards to your pregnancy, and you could tell he was more nervous of your baby's arrival than you were, so if you were to mention the slightest inconvenience, you knew he would protest continuing your plans, and opting to stay home. You appreciated his efforts, but you knew you were stronger than you felt, and for Jack's sake of the award show, you would be able to manage a slight back ache.

Jack had finished in the shower, exiting the ensuite bathroom with a white towel wrapped low against his waist, your gaze following his figure in awe as he reached for his suitcase to grab a few toiletries.

If there was one thing about your pregnancy hormones; you felt like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey, every time Jack put himself in a suggestive situation.

Him lifting the heavy suitcases into the trunk of the rental car? Your skin felt feverish.

Backwards cap? You had to check your pulse.

When he gets impatient in situations and wants to make sure your needs are met? You have to be sure that it's not obvious that you're drooling over your husband in public.

"Like what you see, babe?" Jack called to you as he headed back to the bathroom. You chuckle at his remark, following his path and meeting him in the humid, steamy bathroom. He pulled you in by your hips and interlocked his hands behind the small of your back, looking down into your eyes with a smile.

Pressing a quick kiss to your lips, he shuffled behind your figure and stood behind you, both of your eyes falling onto the pair in the reflection of the mirror. You could feel Jack's warmth against the back of your body, emitting its heat, and his warm breath falling onto your neck as he hugged you tight. His hands on your swollen belly, he began slowly swaying back and forth with you in his arms.

"I love you," you said sheepishly through a smile, earning a bright grin in response from Jack. He peppered the side of your face with kisses, the slowly drying water droplets left on his face transferring to yours.

"I love you so much more," he said, "and I can't express enough how much it means for you to be here with me, all things considered in the timing of your pregnancy."

"You didn't have to ask me twice, you know I'd always come to support you." You smile again, turning from meeting his eyes through the mirror to face Jack, eyes connecting again as he looked down at you, now leaning your body against the counter.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Y/n." Jack said quieter, his hand reaching up to the side of your face and holding the back of your neck, he reached down to connect your lips, an inhale being breathed through his nose as you kissed.

It was slow and passionate, and when you reached your arms up to interlock behind his neck, Jack's lips left yours and found your neck, just below your ear.

"Jack," you protested, attempting to push his body off of yours. You knew you didn't have all the time in the world to spend getting ready before the awards, but you failed as Jack continued down your chest to the top of your square-lined top. You threw your head back in pleasure when he brought his lips back up to your neck on the other side, planting a wet, passionate kiss right along your sweet spot, causing a slight moan to slip out of your mouth.

And that's what caused Jack to stop with a smirk written all over his face.

"What was that?" He asked smugly.

"You know what it was, silly. We don't have time for this." You whined, knowing you wanted nothing more than to release the pent up desire between the two of you.

"We could make it work," Jack pressed, gripping your sides more tightly in desperation.

You shook your head, "we can't, babe, plus- I think you'd somehow manage to get me pregnant again with the way these pregnancy hormones have been hitting me lately." You confessed with raised eyebrows. shocked at your own statement and earning a loud laugh from Jack.

Boy, were these next few weeks going to be long. 

[mxltifxnd0m]

sub! sammy headcanons ⟡ s. winchester

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader [can be read as gn/afab! reader]

word count: 1.5K

warnings: mentions of sub/dom dynamics, cursing, oral m/f receiving, praise, hair pulling, sam being a brat, pain/marking kink, bondage, pegging, choking, cock- warming, written with early seasons sam in mind, barely edited

a/n: MINORS DNI!! i will use the block button if you do :) anyways i was inspired by the whimper audio of jared in house of wax and it sparked this idea that i got around too lol

also, i will be posting a weekly recap of my week during this semester of school so go and check that out! ik i said i wouldn't be posting that often, but perhaps i lied, but then again its only the first week back lol

anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ a preface? idk some pre thots before the headcanons lol

okay so in my mind, sam is a soft dom 100% but can be a switch when the situation calls for it

due to his stature, it can be hard to imagine sam as a sub, but trust me, he can be 

i think he’s more of a sub when he’s younger, like in the earlier seasons of the show  

but in the later seasons, he def would want more control in his sex life (would go more in-depth about this, but this is not the place for that lol)

anyways time for the headcanons loll

⟡⟡⟡

⟡ praise kink

is this even a debate?? The answer is no its not loll 

this goes both ways; he loves giving you praise but also receiving it 

thrives on the pet names you give him “pretty boy”, “handsome”, “good boy”, etc. 

makes his brain turn into literal mush and doubles down on whatever he’s doing to do, whether it's going down on you or fucking you straight into the mattress or thrusting up into you harder as you’re on top of him

⟡ certified muncher

mari did some NSFW headcanons a while back for sam (check that out!) and i mentioned that he was a certified muncher and i stand by it 100% 

sam is a pussy fiend™️

like do we not remember that sam had a sex dream about bela and he “went down” on her??? 

yeah, you can’t sit here and tell me he isn’t one  but yes he loves going down on you!! 

he’s obsessed with the taste of you and how warm you are as he drags his tongue through your slit 

if he gets just a taste, he's a fucking goner  he gets pussydrunk so fast  he’s damn good at it too

ruts his hips into the mattress unconsciously as he goes down on you because giving you pleasure gets him off 

is obsessed when you ride his face, like yes use his face to cum! 

like he loves the feeling of your thighs cushioning his ears as you grind against his face, his nose bumping your clit perfectly as his tongue is as deep as he can get in your cunt and lets out muffled groans, sending vibrations through you, and makes you rut into his face even harder 

could (and has) cummed untouched just by eating you out  there have been times when you had to physically haul him off of you because you were overstimulated to the point where it almost hurt 

“pretty boy, please.” your voice was wrecked as your hands were weaved into his brown hair and tugged him away from your cunt. he whined like a baby when you pulled him off, and sam looked like the poster boy of debauchery. the bottom half of his face slick with your arousal, lips puffy and pink as his hair was standing up in all different directions, and his eyes were glazed over with lust. 

⟡ hair pulling

speaking of his hair standing up in different directions  the man loves and i mean LOVES, getting his hair tugged/pulled at

sam likes it when you play with it, he curls up into your lap as you play with it, but as you start, you tug on it lightly; low moans and whimpers leave his mouth as he burrows into your lap and shoves his face in your crotch 

but he loves it when you tug on it as he goes down you, sending jolts of pleasure through his spine and to his cock 

one time, he came in his boxers when the two of you had an early morning makeout session, and you tugged a little too hard, and he let out a choked moan against your lips. you pulled away from him for him to shove his head in the crook of your neck, riding out his orgasm. when he came out of his hiding spot, he had a red hue on his cheeks as he looked sheepish

⟡ vocal

oh, this man is vocal [this whimper audio is what sparked this all]  at first, he was shy about making noise, only letting out small grunts and groans 

but as you guys were together for longer, you slowly coaxed it out of him 

“come on, make some noise for me, handsome; wanna hear you,” you said as you kissed around his hips and down his v-lines, scraping your teeth along the skin before kissing the tip of his cock. A small groan left his lips before a louder moan erupted from his chest as you took his tip in your mouth and suckled on it. 

But once he got over not making noise, oh god, he sounded beautiful as you overstimulated him and milked him for what he was worth as he let out noises and babbled out nonsense from his cum-drunk mind.

⟡ bratty

we’ve seen the sass on this man; he is 100% capable of being a brat 

but when he is one, he revels in being difficult

but it just means you get to put this 6’4 man in his place (you act like it doesn’t do wonders for your ego, but it does lol) 

when he acts like a brat, you’re rougher with him, and sam loves it  he loves feeling the sting of your hand against his ass or the scraping of your nails along his chest as you ride him 

this also means you edge him for hours, bringing him to the edge, his cock drooling precum and flushed red. tears leak from his eyes as he whines, the noise echoing through the empty motel room. 

“pl-please! I wanna cum.” sam’s voice was higher than it had ever sounded and absolutely ruined from the amount of times that you’ve denied him sweet relief. you clicked your tongue at him, “have you learned your lesson?” your hand was tight around the base of his cock as you planted teasing kisses around his pelvis and thighs, sucking hickeys wherever you so pleased.

⟡ pain/marking kink

sam isn’t one to love pain, considering the life he leads but he relishes in the pleasurable pain of your marks. 

loves to feel the slight sting on his back as he stretches or puts on his shirt from your nails biting into his skin and scratching it up  his thighs being sensitive and tender from the number of hickeys that you left in your wake as you blew him 

sam didn’t think he’d like being slapped, but you asked him if you could and he was surprised that he moaned in response as a red handprint bloomed on his face (you don’t do it often, but its always welcomed if you do it)

⟡ bondage

sam has the innocent facade down to a T, but he’s a kinky motherfucker behind those puppy dog eyes of his 

loves being tied up and at your mercy he doesn’t mind handcuffs, but he’s more partial to the silk ropes you use to tie his arms together and to the headboard and use him in any way you wanted 

he knows that he could get out of the ties if you wanted (you guys have a system in place to let the other know if they want to tap out), but he likes surrendering himself to you and knows that you’ll take good care of him 

when you get him all tied up and when you’re done with him, he’s practically shaking with pleasure and blissed out to the point where he doesn’t know where he is sometimes

sam in shibari makes you go feral (you learned how to do the ties and mentioned it to him one day and pleaded for you to do it on him)

⟡⟡⟡

bonus headcanons!

⟡ pegging

it was an experience that you both thoroughly enjoyed

he finally had gotten a piece of what you were like the day after of an intense night with sam  sam was surprised by the ache he felt, but it was a pleasant one 

this was one of the times when he was the loudest, and it’s one of his favorite things to do with you

⟡ choking

you don’t exactly choke him you either leave your hand on his neck to rest there as your hips swivel around his cock 

or you put the slightest amount of pressure on his neck, not cutting off his airflow but the blood flow, and when you let go, he was catapulted into an orgasm so hard his eyes crossed.

⟡ cock-warming

he loves it when, after an intense session, staying connected to you as long as he can 

sometimes, after you guys clean up and head for bed, he always asks if he could just stay in you since it’s comforting for him  You always oblige him since you love it, too 

It’s slightly uncomfortable at first; his soft cock doesn’t exactly sink in as smoothly compared to when he’s hard 

but the two of you sleep soundly until the morning, where he had grown harder in you as the night progressed, and it usually leads to slow morning sex

[unabashegirl]

Camping — oneshot

Harry and Y/N were friends in college until that day. Now they are being forced to face one another...

Author's note: this one shot was posted on Patreon a long time ago. Happy that you all have a chance to read it!

check out my patreon and get access to this week new one shot (y/n's bff dad) and much more :)

warning: smut

word count: 4.8K

masterlist

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"I can’t believe you’re making me do this," she said as April tossed her backpack into the back of her car. "This feels like kidnapping."

"Stop being so dramatic and get in the car," April replied, a big smile on her face. You and April had been best friends since college, bonding over the ridiculous workload assigned to your class each week. You were opposites: you loved city life, running water, and comfort, while April thrived on nature, adventure, and challenges. She adored plants and meticulously cared for the ones she had at home. In contrast, April had once gifted you a cactus, which you managed to kill.

"I got us muffins and coffee from that place you love," April said.

"Is this your way of bribing me into going?" you asked, reaching for the bag of treats. "I know this is Mark’s idea." April just shrugged as she started driving.

"Aren’t you tired of the city? This will be good for you! All you do is work, sleep, watch The Office, work out, and repeat," April said, giggling as you stopped chewing.

"Leave The Office out of this," you warned. It had been your favorite show since high school, your comfort show, always playing in your apartment. You even tried to get others hooked on it. "I’ve seen you laugh."

"Listen, there’s something I need to tell you," April said, turning down the music.

"Did Mark propose?" you asked immediately, knowing they were endgame. The three of you had met in college and stayed close ever since.

"No," April replied.

"You’re pregnant then?!"

"Shut up!" April interrupted. "Harry is coming. Mark invited him, and I had no say in it," she blurted out, like ripping off a band-aid.

"Oh! Let me out. I am not going," you said, instantly annoyed at the mention of his name. "I thought Mark and he weren’t friends anymore."

"He just came back from America. He called Mark a few weeks ago, and they had drinks and dinner together. Apparently, he’s changed and is more mature." You rolled your eyes as you finished eating your muffin. Your appetite was gone, and you felt suddenly nervous. "You have to let go of that grudge against him!"

"It’s not a grudge, April. The man ghosted me after we had sex. That was all he was after. Him leaving was the best thing that could have happened to all of us," you said. You had fallen for his charm, and after much convincing, you finally gave in during your senior year.

"You’ve moved on, and so has he. I’m just asking you to be polite, babe," April insisted. "I just want us to have a good time."

You sighed, leaning back in your seat as the cityscape blurred past. "Fine. But if he starts anything, I'm not holding back."

April laughed, patting your leg. "That's the spirit. Just remember, we're here to relax and have fun."

The rest of the drive was filled with casual chatter and music, the tension slowly easing. As you neared your destination, a clearing in the woods where you would set up camp, you couldn't help but appreciate the serene beauty of the place. The stress of city life began to melt away, replaced by a reluctant sense of peace.

April parked the car and you both got out, stretching your legs and taking in the fresh air. "It’s gorgeous out here," you admitted begrudgingly.

"See? Told you it would be worth it," April said, grinning.

Mark emerged from behind the car, waving. "Hey, you two! Glad you made it. I'm surprised you managed to convince Y/N,” he said, wrapping his arms around April.

“It took a lot,” April giggled as Mark kissed her cheek. “Muffins and coffee.”

“I can still go back,” you said, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “How long is this hike going to take?” you asked, walking up to Mark and giving him a friendly side hug.

“About thirty minutes. Is that fine or are you going to melt?” he teased, grinning.

April slapped his chest playfully before opening the trunk to get the rest of the stuff out. “Where’s your friend, anyway? Or is he still the unpunctual asshole he always was?”

“M’ right here” Harry said as he emerged from the trail that they were going to take to the campsite. You abstained from saying anything surprised at his appearance. He had kept his good looks. He had even gotten more attractive with more age. However, you would never admit it aloud.

April turned to look at you with her eyes widen opened. You gave her the same look, letting her know that you agreed. Harry wore tiny black shorts that left little to imagination. His legs seemed to never end and his thighs were inked. His grey shirt was tight enough sculpt his chest and his pectorals. His curls were tucked under his basketball cap and his eyes hidden away by some aviator sunglasses.

“You were saying, Y/N? I didn’t catch the last part” Harry asked you, with a small smirk. “Are you still a yapping bitch?”

“Just that we should start the hike” You responded, looking straight at him. You weren’t the same quiet and shy girl you were in college. You had matured and life experiences had shaped you. You were more outgoing and vocal about your opinions.

“I thought so” you heard him say as you turned your back towards him.

As you all gathered the camping gear, the anticipation of the weekend settled in. The woods were peaceful, with the sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Birds chirped in the distance, and the fresh scent of pine filled the air.

Mark led the way, carrying the heavier equipment with Harry, while April and you followed. Despite your reservations, the beauty of the surroundings began to work its magic, and you found yourself relaxing a bit.

After a short walk, you reached the designated camping spot, a small clearing by a bubbling brook. It was picturesque, almost like a scene from a nature magazine. You couldn’t help but admit, if only to yourself, that it was a nice change from the city’s hustle and bustle.

"That was more than thirty minutes," you complained, dropping to the ground to rest your legs. "You're lucky the view was pretty." Mark and April laughed, while Harry remained silent, just watching you.

"Let's set up camp," Mark said, and he and April began unloading the gear. You took the opportunity to pull out the speaker and connect your phone.

As you selected a playlist, music filled the air, blending with the natural sounds of the forest. You watched as Mark and April worked together seamlessly, their laughter and chatter a comforting background noise. Harry joined in, helping with the heavier items, his actions precise and deliberate. You couldn’t help but feel a simmering resentment toward him, remembering the night that had led up to the hate that you had grown towards him.

You glanced around, taking in the beauty of the campsite. Tall trees encircled the clearing, their leaves rustling in the soft breeze. The nearby brook added a soothing melody to the scene, and the late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything.

Harry approached, handing you a bottle of water. "You looked like you could use this," he said, his tone neutral.

"Thanks," you replied curtly, accepting the bottle but avoiding eye contact. His gesture did little to ease the tension between you.

With the tents set up and the campsite organized, the four of you gathered around the fire pit. Mark expertly built a fire, and soon the flames were crackling as the sun descended behind the trees, providing warmth and a focal point for the group.

"How was America?" Mark asked Harry as he handed him a beer. "Did you enjoy living there?"

"It was nice for a while," Harry replied, taking a sip. "But it got lonely after a bit. I'm actually happy to be back."

"Marketing, right?" April asked, earning a quick nod from Harry.

You listened quietly, not fully trusting his cheerful demeanor. It was hard to forget the history between you.

"Well, we're glad to have you back," Mark said, clinking his beer bottle against Harry’s. "It’s like old times again."

April smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, just with more responsibilities and less reckless behavior."

"Speak for yourself," Mark joked, earning a playful nudge from April.

Harry chuckled, but his eyes kept drifting toward you. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the fire instead.

Mark instantly got up from his spot, his eyes twinkled mischievously as he took off his jacket and shirt.

April raised an eyebrow, “What are you doing?!”

“I’m going for a swim” he said, grinning widely as he took of his pants along with his boxers.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you covered your eyes not wanting to look at your best friend’s boyfriend privates.

“A swim? It’s pretty late, Mark.” April said as Mark used his hands to cover himself.

“Why not?” Mark said, standing up and stretching. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. It’ll be fun.” He wanted to cut the tension. He wanted for everyone to have fun and it was a way to get everyone out of the funk especially the both of you. “Oh, it’s fucking cold” He said as he ran towards the lake.

April rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re crazy, you know that?” she yelled after him as she got up from her spot.

“That’s why you love me,” Mark quipped, winking at her.

You bit your lip, considering it. The idea was wild and spontaneous, something you wouldn’t normally do. But maybe that’s what made it appealing.

“Alright,” you said, surprising yourself. “I’m in. But if anyone mentions this to anyone back home, I’m denying everything.” as you started stripping. You couldn’t see Harry, but you could feel Harry’s stare on you.

April laughed. “This should be interesting. Okay, I’m in too.”

Mark clapped his hands together. “Harry?” He yelled as he splashed water. The water was surprisingly warmer than expected.

As soon as your pants came off, you sprinted towards the water, not wanting to give anyone a chance to inspect your body. April followed right behind you, and before you knew it, both of you were submerged in the cool, refreshing water.

The initial shock of the cold water took your breath away, but it quickly turned invigorating. You surfaced, laughing and pushing your wet hair out of your face. April emerged beside you, her laughter echoing across the lake.

"This is crazy!" she shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Harry was right behind, diving into the water with loud splashes. The four of you swam around, the thrill of the spontaneous adventure making everyone giddy.

"Not your worst idea, Mark," you admitted, floating on your back and gazing up at the starry sky. "This is lovely." Mark grinned, splashing water at you.

“Things haven’t changed at much. We still let you convince us into doing shit” said, his tone lighter than it had been all evening.

For a while, you all floated and swam, the cool water refreshing and the company surprisingly pleasant. The tension and animosity seemed to wash away with the gentle waves.

The atmosphere grew quieter as April nestled closer to Mark, the two of them wrapped up in each other's presence, sharing quiet moments and exchanging soft words. The only sounds breaking the silence were the faint music playing in the background and the gentle crackling of the fire.

You glanced over at April and Mark, their closeness evident in the way they leaned into each other, their whispered conversations carrying an intimacy that made you smile despite yourself. It was a rare sight, seeing them so openly affectionate, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with genuine happiness for them.

Harry saw opposite you, lost in his thoughts as he stared at the sky. The events of the evening seemed to have softened his demeanor, his usual guarded expression replaced by a contemplative look. For once, the animosity between you felt less palpable, overshadowed by the camaraderie of the evening.

The music played softly in the background, a soothing backdrop to the quiet moments shared among friends. The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of the water and the company kept you comfortable.

"It's good to see you again, pup," Harry spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking the peaceful silence. The old nickname tugged at your emotions. He had called you that since college, back when you both shared dreams and aspirations.

You looked at him, caught off guard by his unexpected warmth. "Yeah," you replied softly.

"I heard you landed your dream job," he continued, glancing at you with a hint of a smile. You nodded, trying to conceal your own smile. "A reporter for BBC News. I remember how you used to talk about it non-stop. Proud of you."

“Thanks. How is your mom and Gemma?" you asked, recalling that final year of uni when Harry had invited you to his family home. It had been Easter weekend, a time when you got to meet the two women who made Harry’s world turn.

Harry's face softened at the mention of his family. "They're doing well," he replied, a hint of fondness in his voice. "Mom's as busy as ever, and Gemma is a mum now”

"Wait, what?!" You were taken aback, genuinely surprised by the news. It was unexpected, and you hadn't seen it coming.

Harry chuckled softly at your surprised reaction, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and pride. "Yeah, she had a baby girl a few months ago," he explained, his voice tinged with happiness. "It's been quite the adjustment, but she's doing great."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of Gemma as a mother. "That's amazing," you replied genuinely. "Congratulations to her."

As you processed this new information, you felt a twinge of nostalgia for the times you had spent with Harry and his family. It seemed like another lifetime ago, yet the memories were still vivid in your mind. Despite the distance that had grown between you, moments like these reminded you of the bonds that once connected you.

"Listen, Y/N..." Harry began, but he was swiftly cut off by Mark and April.

"We're heading out. We are starving!" Mark called out, trailing after April as they exited.

Harry paused, his words hanging in the air as Mark and April hurriedly headed towards the campsite. You exchanged a glance with Harry, both of you momentarily sidelined by the interruption.

“I’ll see you out there” You said, trying to sound casual despite the awkwardness of the moment. Deep down, you wondered what Harry had wanted to say—whether it was something about the past or the tentative future you both seemed to be tiptoeing around. However, you didn’t want to stay behind. You weren’t skeptical about giving him a chance to explain himself.

Carefully, you swam back to shore and climbed out of the water. Attempting to regain your composure and stride confidently back to camp, you couldn't help but feel you'd failed miserably, especially with the chilly air gnawing at you.

Everyone changed into comfortable clothes while Mark prepared hot dogs for dinner.

"Did you bring your sleeping bag?" April asked, emerging from her tent.

"Yeah, I think so. It was in the hall by the door," you replied, brushing your hair. As you watched April search for it, a feeling of panic began to creep in. You mentally retraced your steps, recalling the things you had taken out of the trunk.

"No way," you muttered under your breath, frantically rummaging through your belongings. "I thought we grabbed everything!"

"What’s wrong? What are you looking for?" Harry asked, wanting to help.

"I think I left my sleeping bag at home," you sighed, realizing it was going to be a tough night. You had brought your tent, but sleeping on the bare ground wasn’t part of the plan.

Harry frowned, considering the situation. "we'll figure something out," he said, his voice reassuring.

Mark, overhearing the conversation, turned from the campfire where he was tending to the hot dogs. "I brought an extra blanket. It's not a sleeping bag, but it should help.”

"Thanks, Mark," you said, grateful for the gesture. Still, the thought of an uncomfortable night's sleep loomed over you.

April emerged triumphantly with a blanket. "Here, hopefully this makes it more comfortable," she said.

You took the blanket from her, managing a small smile. This trip was definitely not going as you had expected—it seemed like one thing after another.

"Hot dogs are ready!" Mark announced cheerfully as he handed everyone their plate and they gathered around the fire.

“Remember the last time we went camping?” April asked as she swallowed a bite of her hot dog.

“Wasn’t that the time that Mark though there was a bear attacking us?” Harry smirked, taking a bite of his hot dog. “What animal was it?”

“It was a racoon” You joined in, the memory making you chuckle.

“In my defense it was SO loud! It made a lot of noise” Mark laughed, shaking his head. “It was bloody big”.

"Was that before or after you tried to scare it away by singing 'Eye of the Tiger' at the top of your lungs?” April busted out laughing.

“He was so off-key. I am surprised the racoon put up a fight”

“I was just trying to protect us!” Mark threw up his hands in mock indignation.

Everyone busted into laughter again, the tension had melted away in the shared amusement. For a moment, it felt like old times, with jokes and stories like in college.

Later, as you settled into your tent with the borrowed blanket, you couldn’t help but think about all the conversations that you had with your friends. Harry's earlier attempt to talk still lingered in your mind, and you knew that the conversation was far from over.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard a soft knock on the tent flap. "Hey, you still awake?" It was Harry’s voice.

You sat up, your heart beating a little faster. "Yeah, what’s going on?"

Harry unzipped the tent entrance and peeked in, holding a sleeping bag. "I thought you might need this."

"You brought an extra one?" you asked, suspicion creeping into your voice.

"Yeah," he replied, but his eyes betrayed him. You knew Harry too well to be fooled.

"You're lying," you said, stopping him just as he turned to leave. "You can’t fool me. I know you, Harry Styles. I know this is your sleeping bag."

He paused, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "So, what if it is?"

"That I’m not taking your sleeping bag from you," you insisted, handing it back to him. "Thank you, though."

He hesitated, the flickering firelight casting shadows across his face. "Let's share it then," he suggested softly.

You blinked, taken aback by his offer. You were nervous. The though of you sharing such a tight space and being in such proximity made your heart beat faster and the palms of your hands sweaty.

“Are you sure?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, stepping into the tent. “It’s cold, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable”.

With a nod, you scooted over to make room. Harry stretched out the sleeping back and unzipped it for both of you. As you both settled into the sleeping bag, the proximity was comforting, but unsettling at the same time. The warmth of his body next to yours was a stark contrast to the chilly night air. You both shared a pillow and the blanket that April had giving you.

His scent enveloped you — a mix of pine, musk and a hint of the campfire smoke. His warmth radiated through the thin layers of the fabric, soothing the chill of the night air. The gently rise and fall of his chest against your back created a rhythmic presence. His arm draped lightly over your side and the sensation of his body pressed against yours brought an unexpected sense of nostalgia.

“Are you confortable?” He whispered as if sharing. secret, as if what you were doing was somehow forbidden.

You nodded slight, feeling the wright of his questions. “I am” you whispered back, the darkness amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

The silence that followed was filled with the soft sounds of the forest and the distant crackle of the campfire outside.

“Thank you” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“No problem” he replied softly, his words brushing against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the moment. There was still something in the air. Something unspoken.

“Remember that night?” Harry whispered after a while, his voice a gently murmur in the quiet night. Referring to the night of passion that they had shared back in uni. The night that had stayed with you ever since.

“Every second of it” you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and hurt. Memories flooding back, vivid and bittersweet. You could still recall the feel of his lips, the way his touch had ignited a fire within you. “Why did you never call or text back?”

Harry sighed softly, his warm breath against your neck. “I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “I was scared of what I felt for you, of how much you meant to me. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I ran”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. You turn slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his for the truth. In the dim light of the tent, you could see raw vulnerability that he rarely showed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you” You admitted, “I resented you for it” Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of relief and sorrow.

“I am wrong. I was so wrong. I missed you” he confessed. Harry reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek.

The air between you grew thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. You could feel yourself drawing closer, every inch of space between you crackling with tension. The warmth of his body, the gently rise and fall of his chest and the soft brush of his breath against your skin all conspired to lure you to him.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking down to your lips, and you felt like your breath hitch, the moment stretching into an eternity. The desire to close the gap, to feel the familiar yet thrilling sensation of his kiss, was overwhelming and every fiber of you yearned for that kiss that would final bridge all those years of resentment.

Harry’s gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your every thought. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

With a deep breath, Harry leaned in slowly, closing the miniscule gap between you. His lips brushed against yours with a feather light touch, tentative yet filled with longing. His lips were warm and soft, fitting against yours as if they had always belonged there.

A soft sigh escaped Harry’s lips, a mixture of relief. His hand moved from your cheek to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, each movement a silent confession of years of yearning and regret.

Lost in the moment, you ran your fingers through his hair, savoring the texture and the closeness it brough. His touch sent sparks through your body, awakening every nerve ending with a delicious ache between your legs that only he could take care of.

“Let me have you” His breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “I want you so bad” His hand took yours, guiding it to him, making you feel the intensity of his longing and the very evident erection that he had grown for her. His words hung in the air, heavy with desire.

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you too.” You didn’t think much about it. Your mind was too clouded.

Harry closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss both tender and urgent. He used the kiss to roll you to your side with your back towards him. Harry pulled off the sweater off your body and pull the straps of your bralette off your shoulders, exposing more skin for his lips to capture.

Harry hands came down to your pants as his lips trailed down to your neck, each kiss a lingering, deliberate caress that sent shivers down your spine. As his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, he paused, letting his lips brush lightly over your pulse point before his right hand found its way into your underwear.

“Try to stay quiet, yeah?” As his fingers started playing with you, touching your most intimate spots. His knee came between your legs, spreading them more and allowing him to explore more of you.

Harry left arm went under her head, for you to rest your head against his bicep while he had his way with you. You bit your lips, arching your hips towards his hand just as his fingers entered you. A rush of pleasure coursed through you, mingling with a cascade of nerves that made your heart race.

“God. You are so wet, pup” He groaned as he tried his best to contain himself. Harry left hand came down to cover your mouth as your moans got louder. “You are doing so good, baby”, he mumbled, his arms tightening around you.

“For the love of fuck” you gasped as you came undone on his fingers. It was hot, you were both still nuzzled in the sleeping bag. Just as you unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up, you caught Harry sucking the same two fingers that had been in you a second ago.

“Come here” Harry commanded as he slipped off his joggers and boxers. It was a sight that she hoped to never forget. The muscles of his abdomen flexed proof that he spent his diligent time at the gym. His erection stood tall and proudly inviting you to ride him.

You slipped off your pants and underwear. Harry hands gripped your waist tightly and guided you down on to him. The pleasure was instant as he stretched you out. Harry’s fingers gripped you tightly, holding you still for a second as you both adjusted to the sensation.

His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as his head was thrown back.

“Show me how much you missed me” You said to him which only ignited the fire within him. His hands guided your hips, as you both tried to find the perfect rhythm to drive you off the edge.

“Look at you. So fuckin’ perfect just f’me” Your words only ignited the fire within him, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming blaze.

His hands firmly guided your hips, every movement deliberate and driven by an intense desire to bring you both to the peak of ecstasy. The sensation of his strong hands on your skin, the way he moved with you, sent waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You both sought the perfect rhythm, each thrust and shift in sync, the friction and pressure building with every passing second.

“Oh, baby… you are so tight” he moaned, Harry’s grip tightened on your waist, his fingernails digging into your skin. Your thrust and grinding became sloppier and soon enough both of you were moaning. You clenched around him as Harry lifted his hips from the ground as you both came undone.

You laid down on his chest with him still in you. It was comforting, having him in you. Harry’s hands came up and brushed your sweaty hair back.

“You aren’t going to disappear now, are you?” You asked as he drew patterns on your sweaty back.

“I am not going anywhere”.

[teaboot]

if ur a murderbot nerd now do u have any fun opinions abt it yet?

Oh my goddd you have no idea

I really, really, really like Murderbot because it comes at life with this perspective we don't often see that is very real among people who have already been through traumatic experiences, who developed skills and abilities to suvive that were once useful but no longer have context- that search that traumatized people go through to recalibrate and reorient ourselves in a world where we no longer really need those things to survive.

A bit personal here, but my own issues personally involved a lot of psychological abuse that made it difficult to trust my own perceptions of reality, and as a result I found I was very easy to lie to and manipulate.

To handle this, I became obsessive over writing things down, cataloging details and making notes of things as they happened- I'd carry recording devices and make audio recordings and stay up late at night to transcribe what they'd picked up, read those over and over again to reassure myself of things I wasn't certain about.

While doing this, there were others close to me that I felt responsible for, who I had to protect from others and protect myself from at the same time. Life was about two things: Evidence, and defusing threats

Over time, I learned to trust myself as my memories matched what had been recorded where their narrative didn't, but I never really kicked the habit. Like Murderbot, I had added something to my own programming that reassured me I was safe, that I was in control of myself, that I couldn't be mistaken or crazy or broken or used.

I'm only on book two, but already I see myself in Murderbot again. No spoilers here, but when I left home- left that dangerous context- I didn't need to repeat these patterns to survive anymore, but I still did, because I didn't know anything else anymore. It felt safe, comfortable, knowing knowing that the past couldn't repeat itself, because I'd written that flaw- blind trust in myself-  out of my programming and replaced it with something else.

Still, though, I'd become something specially suited to thrive in a very specific environment. Nothing else felt right like followinghigh-risk situations, like witnessing and watching and recording and knowing I had proof of the truth where others might not.

People took notice. I wound up in security by accident, but's an environment that I thrive in due to the same patterns and behaviours I originally developed when I had no other choice. I climbed the ladder pretty quickly, once supervisors caught on that my reports were the most accurate, most objective, most factual, detail-oriented and timely. I keep others and myself safe and prioritize public safety above all else, and I perform well under pressure

Now I'm in a position where I often wonder, do I enjoy this job, or is it just what I'm good at? I have a set of skills now, but do I have the option of choosing not to use them? What would I be, if not this? Could I be anything else? Can Murderbot be anything else?

It has a set of skills that set it apart, make it different, special. It does what it knows best. But is it free? Does it want to be? What does it want? Does it have to do what it was built to do? What if it didn't?

I know what I'm good for. The idea of deliberately leaving what I'm good for for something uncertain, that I might hate, that I might be useless at- the choice to give up what was so important to me for so long and become deliberately obsolete?

Let go of my entire purpose? The only thing I know, that I fit so well into but don't actually know if I enjoy? Now that I can choose? Now that enjoyment is a luxury I can afford to consider?

Yeah, that resonates.

I like the Murderbot series so far because it feels the way I feel: Like the most significant and formative part of my story, the part where I became what I am, has already happened

And now I have to just. Keep going

Into... what?

It feels absurd. Like a microwave giving up on reheating food and deciding to start a life around abstract dance.

So, uh. Yeah. It's really very wild to see this same philosophical-ish dilemma I've been digging over in the back of my mind and in therapy for the last forever laid out so plainly in a genuinely exciting and enjoyable story like this. I feel much less alone, and I... kind of really need to see how it resolves, I think.

So, uh. Yeah. Read Murderbot, I guess