#no offense to brits but yeah

[schrodingers-romy]

Marc Snuffy is the most attractive of the blue lock masters argue with the wall

[yawnderu]

Continuation of Ghost getting painfully Brit when he's drunk bc you're not gonna look at this big fucker from Manchester and tell me he wasn't a roadman in his teenage years.

Part I

''Did man just exhale?'' Simon looked at Gaz with fake offense, gloved hand pointing towards you while you were... simply sitting there.

''I'm just breathing, Si.'' Maybe the mix of drunk idiots in your house wasn't a good idea, but it sure is fucking hilarious.

''Why you tryin' to use logic like I won't spark you, bruv?'' He's clearly messing around, playfully swatting your head out of the way as you walk past him. It earns him a sharp slap on the arm, making Gaz snicker.

''You 'aving a laugh, yeah?'' As if having two idiotic best friends isn't enough, the alcohol in their system does nothing but make them even more annoying.

''You wanna 'ave a go, mate?'' Gaz replies, eyebrows raised in amusement as he gets into a playful fighting stance, Simon following soon after but deciding against it after a second of consideration.

''Alright, calm, calm, calm.'' Simon finally sat down, clearly holding back his laughter. The giant Brit was way too fucking drunk to even think about sparring with anyone, let alone the man who holds the record in selection for the SAS.

''Say nothin', innit.'' They both settle down for once, only interrupted once Gaz lets out a sigh.

''Are you a lunatic, blud?'' Here he goes again.

[ivoovu]

*cough*

Mic Tap

A PSA to all König/Krueger writers:

Hello, I‘m Voov, and I‘m a native German.

And let me just clarify that I do not mean any of this in a offensive matter, and that none of these things are 'annoying' or 'bothersome' to me as a German, which I‘m sure other Germans would agree with me. This isn‘t something that‘s making it impossible for us to read blurbs/fics/etc., however I do know that some writers want to write in foreign languages as accurately and realistically as possible, so this is for those. And for everyone else who‘s just interested, of course

🤍🍪

1 - What I often read is "Exemplary Sentence I can‘t think of something right now but it‘s in English, ja?"

We don’t end our sentences with "[…], ja?". Sometimes, yes, fair, sometimes we do so, but it’s on the rarer side in my opinion. Majority of the time we use this at the end of our sentences:

"[…], nicht?" = "[…], no?" (please don‘t use "[…], nein?" for this one)

or:

"[…], nh?" = honestly this one can be used for a lot of things, it can be used for "[…], no?", "[…], don‘t you think so?" or how the Brits use 'innit', like you‘re trying to prove a point.

(Translation for "[…], don‘t you think so?" = "[…], denkst du nicht auch so?")

I understand that when you type in a "[…], ja?" you‘re translating from the words' English equivalent which is "[…], yeah?", but again, it‘s more common to use "[…], nicht?" instead.

If you use a good mix of "[…], ja?", "[…], nicht?" and "[…], nh?" (and any other word you might want to add to the end of your sentence) instead of sticking to one throughout an entire fic, you‘ll make us Germans a bit happier.

🍙⌛️

2- If you‘re using longer sentences, and the sentences are directed at the Reader, you should clarify beforehand if the Reader is masc or fem. Why? Because a lot of words are gendered in German, so the way they’re conjugated tell us the Gender of the Person:

English: "My perfect Partner."

-> Gender neutral, the reader could be a Man, Woman, in between, on the outside, an Alien race, whatever

If you type this into google translate you get: "Mein perfekter Partner."

-> Masculine. It‘s an instant tell that the reader is a dude.

The female version would be: "Meine perfekte Partnerin."

-> Now we know instantly that this is feminine.

There is no gender neutral, German simply isn’t a language that works that way.

Can you write full sentences without using anything gendered, at all? Yes, absolutely, here‘s an example:

English: "Oh God I love you, I don‘t know what I would do without you. You‘re my everything, I‘ll do anything and everything for you."

German: "Oh Gott ich liebe dich, ich weiß nicht was ich ohne dich machen würde. Du bist mein ein und alles, ich würde alles für dich tun."

This is completely gender neutral because while typing I actively made sure to avoid using anything gendered. But I understand that this is a extremely difficult task to do so for those who don’t speak German, so if you can pull it off, you just earned my highest form of respect, but this isn’t something that us Germans expect of you as a Writer, this is just something I wanted to draw your attention to.

🐰🧳

My point is: If you do any of those two, we Germans aren’t crying about it. We won‘t stop reading the fic, we won‘t bitch about it or send you hate-mail.

We just notice it, correct the sentence in our mind, and some of us will type out the correct sentence as a comment.

I sadly don‘t have any websites that can help with the gendered words, and google translate sucks anyways, so I truly don‘t have any type of direction I could point you writers to, sorry :/

But I have said this before and I‘ll say it again, as many times as I have to: I am absolutely willing to help with the German parts, my dm‘s are always open, no I won’t think you’re annoying or abusing anything by asking me to check the German sentences you might‘ve used in your works, no I‘m not saying any of this out of courtesy, no I‘m not lying, no we don’t have to know each other, no you don’t have to deal with chit chat you can immediately hit me up with 'Hey how is this sentence?', yes I am being serious. In doubt, read this paragraph again and again.

🐚🪵

[chaotic-toasters]

Boomerang

Alanna Kennedy x Teen! R

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

You don't know why you didn't say anything. You don't know why you didn't tell your mum that you were running out of your ADHD meds, but now you didn't have any more and you'd have to go to training without them.

"Y/N?" She called from the kitchen, voice echoing around the house. "We've gotta go, kiddo."

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," you grumbled. "Hold your horses, mother."

The defender flicked your ear teasingly. "Grumpy today, are we?"

You couldn't help but smile at the goofy grin on her face. "Only when you start yellin' for me even though we're not gonna be late."

The two of you slipped into the car, listening to the radio in an unusual silence.

"You alright there, baby?" your mum asked, glancing over at you where your hands were shaking in your hoodie pocket. "You're quiet today."

"Yeah, I'm good," you dismissed her concerns, twiddling your thumbs under the cover of your comfortable top. "When do you leave for the next Matildas camp?"

The question caught her off guard, making her forget about her previous statement. "In two weeks. You're on the roster, silly."

"Oh," you giggled sheepishly. "I forgot."

The rest of the drive was uneventful, though your mum did take offense to you jumping out of the car before she finished parking once you arrived at training. "Oi! Where you goin'?!"

"To find Hempo!" You yelled back, sprinting into the building to find your best mate at Man City. "She's fun!"

You could practically feel the offense radiating off your mum. "And I'm not?!"

"Eh."

"You cheeky little—"

"Hiii, Hempo!" You jumped on the older girl's back in excitement as she made her way to the changing room, a shit-eating grin on your face as she grunted from the sudden weight.

"Hiii, Y/N," the forward mocked, pushing the door open and carrying you into the room where some of the girls were already gathered. "How are you?"

"I'm good!" You chirped, jumping off of Lauren's back and somersaulting on the floor.

Your teammates paid you no mind, simply thinking you had a bit of extra energy. But as the day went on, you became more hyper and more restless.

"RAHHH!" you screeched, sprinting at Laia. "TIM TAMS!"

A hand snatched the back of your jersey, causing you to jerk back.

"Y/N," Steph scolded. "Calm down."

You grunted, hiding your ever-twitching fingers behind your back. "You and Mum are so boring."

"Her fingers are wiggling." Leila deadpanned.

You spun around, annoyed. "Shut up, Leila!"

Steph tutted disapprovingly. "I think someone didn't take their meds this morning."

Luckily, the whistle blew as the trainers called for a scrimmage, saving you from any further investigation.

Steph opened her mouth to say more, but you ran off to your position and clapped for the game to start. The skipper just shook her head, amused. She'd bring it up to your mum later.

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

It hadn't even been ten minutes. To Steph's defense, you had been much calmer before the scrimmage, but you and Hempo were on opposite teams and your will to beat her only fueled your uncontainable energy.

"WAAAAAHAAAHA!" you yelled, sprinting down the field. "I'M A GONNA WIN!"

"Woahhh, slow down, Waluigi," Chloe reached out to grab you, but you just dodged her hold and continued your charge towards the ball. "Alex! Grab the kid!"

The Brit tried in vain to snatch you by the collar, but you only shook free and shrieked, "SHE'S A RUNNER SHE'S A TRACKSTAAAAR!"

Lauren screamed as you chased after her, leaving the ball abandoned in a futile attempt to shake you off. "WHERE'S ALANNA?! WHERE'S ALANNA?!"

"Seeing the physio," Demi said. "For her ankle."

Lauren screamed again, running like her life depended on it (it did). "GO GET HER! GO GET HER!"

"ARARARARARARARARARUFF!" you barked, your ADHD taking total control of your limbs and vocal cords. "AIAIAIAIAIAIAIAAIAIAIAI!"

Lauren jumped onto Sandy's back, scrambling away from you in a panic. "HELP ME YOU SHITS!"

"Hey, hey, hey," your mum rushed towards you before you could react, arms wrapping around you and holding you in place. "What's the matter, baby? What's going on?"

Your head whipped to the side. "Boomerang!"

She smiled at you worriedly, waddling off to the sidelines with you trapped firmly in her hold. "Yeah, kiddo. You're exactly like a boomerang, flying all over the place."

Steph jogged over as you babbled nonsensically, eyes meeting your mum's. "She didn't take her meds this morning. She was acting like this earlier, and she hasn't had any sugar."

"Aww, kiddo," your mum ran her fingers through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Why didn't take your meds? You know they're important."

Something in your brain briefly turned off the hyperactivity long enough for you to hear the slight disappointment in her voice. "I- I ran out."

"You've gotta tell me before that happens, sweetheart," she murmured, rubbing your temples. "You scared the hell out of Hempo today."

You buried your face into your shoulder, suddenly tired from your rampage. "'m sorry, mum."

"It's okay, kiddo," she assured, suddenly smirking. "It was hilarious."

[prettygrltatum]

Food For Thought!

T141 x Southern!reader

+ Simon "Ghost" Riley x Southern!reader

Tags: fem!reader! plantonic with the rest of the crew but you and Simon have a little something something yk?, canon typcial crusing, fluff, the boys just being silly, american and british bickering

a/n: so remember that little brain fart I had? so this is what happens when your bored with nothing to do <<33 I know that this won't do many southerns justice, we're all different from different cities to towns but I just wanted to share this with yall :)) also please tell me where yall from! I really want to know! Enjoy!

"What the hell is this (reader).." Price mumbled under his breath. He cranked his neck back as he looked at you with disgust. You rolled your eyes as you set the plate of fried chicken, string beans, and a nice, thick, creamy and chewy mac-n-cheese. "Okay, I'll go get the sweet tea. Do not and I mean do not touch anything!" You warned, leaving the dineing room to the kitchen. Soap came in as Ghost followed. "Aye. The hell is that?" Soap asked, sniffing the air to the unfamillar smell.

Price hunched his shoulder, and turned to the kitchen as you digged into the fridge trying to find the homemade sweet tea you made this morning. "I don't know, she made this mess. It looks greasy." He huffed. "I heard that! You haven't taste it yet!" You came back with a huge jug of sweet tea, the men looking at you with bewilderment. Gaz, running late had came into the dining room, his cheeky smile fading once the scent of southern food hit his nose.

"What's that?" He looked over to the abunces of food. He smiled as he turned to you and helped you with the jug of tea. "Thank you Gaz, anyways. I know you brits-"

"I'm not British." Soap shouted with offense. You all looked at him and then turning the attention back to you. "Anyways! This here? This here is the shit. Your taste buds will never feel the same after you eat these homemade classics of the south!" You squeaked. The men looked over at thefoood, the grease and butter glowing in the light. The men sruvnhed their noses as they groaned in disgusted.

Your feelings where slightly hurt, but as a proud (southern state) native, you must bring them the food from the home of the free. Eitehr way, any food you cook could explode their brains. "Think we should try it L.T?" Soap asked looking up at him. Simon had a bit of a soft spot for you. He loved your american accent, the way you had some much pride and respectful for yourself. He thought it was attractive. Might I say sexy? He was head over heels fpr you and wanted you to like him as much as possible. And if that means to eat your seemingly gross and fatty american food, then so be it.

"Wouldn't hurt to try." He simply said. "Really? Don't wanna be fat like them americans!" Soap joked. You reached over and punched his shoulder as he laughed. "Oh please! Half the people in this country needs a nice oral cleansing..”

Soap rolled his eyes and ignored your jab at him and moved on. “I think we should try it. Don’t seem so bad.” Ghost mumbled as he sat down next to you, his arm resting on your chair. “Really?” Gaz sighed.

“Yeah. Don’t seem so bad. Just Mac-n-Cheese.” He huffed at Gaz with a slight scorn to his tone. “Whateva you say I guess..” Soap sighed as he sat himself down at the food. “I want to try the tea first.” Simon said as he pointed to the tea jug. “Sure!” You stood up and pour each and everyone of you a cup of homemade natural born tea.

“Alright! Drink up!” You cheered. Price, oddity sniffed it and pushed the drink away. “No.” Ghost lifted his mask up, and took a sip before hacking and lammend the glass on the table. “AUGH! AUHN! WHAT THE FUCK?!” He screamed as you laughed at his intolerance to the sweetness of the tea.

Gaz just smacked his lips and pushed the cup away from him as well. “Too sweet, urgh!” He groaned as he smacked his lips and slapped his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Meanwhile Soap was still taking sip after sip of his drink, almost gone at this point. “Seems like you liked it Soap!” You giggled.

“I just like sweet stuff alright?” He chuffed as he sucked the life out of the cup. “I win!” Soap scoffed as he snatched Price’s cup of tea from him. Price didn’t seem to mind anyways. “You’re not gonna try Cap’?” He shook his head no, “I need to watch my blood sugar nowadays.” You chuckled at his words. Such an old man thing to say. Or someone who has diabetes. Either way it’s kinda funny. Not really.

“Okay try the Mac-n-Cheese now!!”

(Should I add onto this?)

[floral-force]

Breakfast in Bed

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

summary: Simon, the man you met at the bar and kissed good-bye, stays true to his word and visits you the next morning. Little do you know, you've been on his mind as much as he's been on yours, and he wants to devour you.

words: 7.2k+

warnings/tags: EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY. piv (unprotected), praise kink, pet names, very light consensual choking, d/s undertones (barely), ghost is def an ass and thigh man and you can't change my mind, fluff, banter, a cute ending

a/n: this is a long-awaited part 2 to american hospitality! it can be read as a standalone, but I highly recommend reading AH just for the ambience and more sexy, flirtatious banter (and drunk tf 141)!

masterlist | read on ao3 | taglist

You woke up with a groan, rolling over onto your side. A bright ringtone blared in your ears and sucker punched your hungover brain; you must’ve drunkenly set a morning alarm last night. So, you snatched your phone off your bedside table to silence the offensive, repetitive notes, but paused when you saw that it wasn’t an alarm at all—it was Simon, calling you.

You quickly answered the call and cleared your hoarse throat. “Hello?”

There was an amused rumble on the other end. “Had a good night, did’ya?”

“With no thanks to you,” you jabbed, rolling onto your back and closing your eyes. 

“Not gonna show a little appreciation to the man who paid your tab, love?”

“Not when my head hurts this fuckin’ bad,” you groaned, fingers rubbing your temple as you clutched the phone and held it close to your ear. 

Even if his deep voice was a bit tinny through the phone, you wanted to hear every single syllable, hear every single breath. That was one thing you wouldn’t forget—the way Simon had held your waist in his large hands and bent his head to talk into your ear, pushing the blaring bar music aside so he could heat your skin with every dulcet innuendo. His delicious British accent would haunt your ears for years to come; you don’t think you’d ever forget it.

Simon clicked his tongue. “That isn’t very hospitable of you, is it, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip and smiled, suppressing a girlish giggle at the way the pet name sounded rolling off his tongue. “Maybe not,” you shrugged, opening your eyes and staring up at the ceiling, “but I hope you can forgive me.”

“If you ask nicely, baby, I’ll consider it.”

You sucked in a breath. This Brit had you horny at ten in the goddamn morning. You hadn’t even had a sip of the Pedialyte stocked in your fridge for gnarly hangovers like the one slowly rearing its ugly head as you woke up more and more. 

Simon said your name. “Hm? Will you do that for me?”

“I’ll give it a try.”

“Good girl,” Simon purred. You could hear the smile on his lips as you shakily exhaled, rubbing your thighs together after a needy pulse from your cunt. “When will I see your gorgeous face today?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “It’s a ‘when’?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear with th’kiss I gave you before you got in the Uber.”

Your fingers graced over your parted lips. How could you have forgotten that magical, drunken moment? It almost felt like a dream; too good to be true; except it was, and Simon was there, facing you as your friends and his laughed under the streetlights. Simon was there, and he was gripping your waist, large fingers tracing up the back of your skull as you watched him lift the edge of his balaclava up just enough to meet your waiting lips with his. You remembered tasting vodka and sugar and a hint of smoke as he coaxed your lips open to swipe his tongue across yours before pulling back slowly, staring down at you with heady brown eyes.

Another low, satisfied rumble in your ear as you struggled to respond. “So, when am I meeting you at your flat, love?”

“Shit, what time is it—ten?” 

“A quarter past, yeah.”

You rubbed your bleary eyes. “Gimme, like, half an hour. I need water and Pedialyte.”

“I’ve got’ya covered there, pretty girl.”

“What d’you mean?” you asked, your brow furrowed.

“I mean—”

You nearly screamed when your door creaked open, sitting upright as a pale elbow pushed it open to reveal familiar broad shoulders and mischievous brown eyes. One hand held a phone to a red-tinged ear and the other curled around a plastic Pedialyte bottle, its pink liquid and condensation a bright contrast against the tattooed forearm and the black shirt and dark denim jeans leaving little to the imagination about the toned body underneath.

“—I’ve got it, sweetheart. Don’ even have t’lift a pretty little finger.”

You were too stunned to speak, lowering your phone to your lap as Simon stepped into your room. It took him only a few wide strides to reach your bedside—this was the one and only time you’d be grateful for your small room. He stuffed his phone into his pocket and stared down at you, the rest of his pale skin below his eyes hidden by a black fabric mask looped around his ears. His neck was exposed, and if it weren’t for your dehydration, you’d be lunging for it. Instead, you stared back at him, narrowing your eyes.

“You have blond hair,” you commented, kicking yourself for letting the stupid observation slip out.

The corners of his eyes creased with a hidden smile. “Figured I’d let it see the Chicago sun at least once before I leave.”

Your mattress dipped with his weight when he sat at the foot of your bed, back curved as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. You crossed your legs under your comforter and gave him a smile, leaning forward and running your fingers through the short, sandy strands. He closed his eyes at your touch, leaning his head back just enough for you to notice, even with sleep still clouding your eyes and your head spinning—from one too many vodka crans or arousal, you couldn’t tell. 

“I like it, Simon.”

His eyes fluttered open—such a delicate movement for such an imposing man—and stared at you as you gave his head one last pet before withdrawing and taking the Pedialyte. You opened it and dramatically sighed in relief before taking a long gulp, the sticky-sweet fluid a balm to the consequences of your actions, but not to the heat pooling in your belly. There was only one thing that could fix that—well, four things, to be exact. You’d fallen asleep thinking about i 

“Fuck, that’s good.” You sighed. “Do you have this across the pond?”

“Across the bloody pond, fuckin’ hell.” Simon mocked you, and you gave his muscular bicep a playful shove. He let his body sway with it, shaking his head. “No, but we’ve Dioralyte.”

“Maybe I’ll try it someday,” you said, taking another sip.

He shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, love, maybe.” 

Simon’s eyes darted to the floor, then back to you, the hand on his thigh wandering over to rest on the mountain your knee created poking up under the comforter. You licked your lips and ran a finger over his tattooed forearm, stroking up and down, gently scratching your fingernail across the inked skin, inching down past his wrist and over one of the bulging veins on the back of his hand. It was almost enough to make you forget about the way the room spun around his head and the somber tone of his response.

You shook your head and scooted closer, careful not to jostle the half-empty bottle. His warm hand snaked up your covered thigh, and you were able to smell the smoke and vetiver wafting off his body and able to see amber flecks glinting in his curious eyes. He was intoxicating, and you needed to drink as much as you could before he was gone for good. Simon was intimidating and commanding; but the blush sneaking up towards his eyes, and the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheek with each pass of your fingers through his short hair exposed something tender under his brooding brow. There was something soft in Simon despite the skull jaw printed on the black fabric mask encircling his head and neck below dour brown eyes. 

But now was not the time to poke and prod, to try to stab at the chinks in Simon’s armor. 

No. Right now, you needed to wash your face, drink some water, and figure out what to do about the wetness between your legs.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence that had settled in the room. You walked your index and middle fingers up Simon’s arm, starting the playful journey at his wrist as you spoke. “What did you have in mind for today?”

“You’re not going t’ask how I got in your flat?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head as your index finger stepped over the bend of his arm, your middle finger landing on his thick bicep. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“I could be a murderer, sweetheart.”

“At least you’d be a hot one.”

He tutted at your coy indifference. “Thought you Chicagoans were keen to threats.”

“We all have our weaknesses,” you breathed, your fingers reaching their destination—the edge of his mask. Your nose was inches from where his lifted the fabric covering it, your head spinning with lust and not your hangover, shifting your left side down to set the Pedialyte on the floor so you could place your hand on his chest and feel his heart hammering under your palm.

“You are a goddamn minx, love, fuck,” Simon rasped, his right hand wrapping around the side of your neck, the tips of his fingers trailing up past your hairline, the heel of his palm ghosting over your esophagus. Your blood pulsed through your jugular as he leaned in closer, his black pupils blown as he stared you down. You closed your eyes and shakily exhaled, your heart skipping a beat as the fingers pressing into your left thigh tugged the comforter down, bunching it up at your knee. You couldn’t hold back the quiet, needy sigh when his warm hand touched your bare thigh and squeezed the fat of it, massaging it under his palm as he inched towards the bend of your hip and the edge of your pink panties. 

Simon leaned in and the fabric mask brushed against your hot cheek as he purred into your ear, “You have no idea what I want to fuckin’ do t’you, pretty girl.”

You gently shook your head, sharply inhaling as the hand around your neck slid down to rest over your breast, his middle and index fingers catching on the stretched hem of the oversized shirt covering it.

“You’re right, Simon, I don’t.” You mimicked his movement, dropping your hand over the crotch of his jeans, smirking when you felt his erection under your palm, stroking up his length where it strained against his jeans. Your breath hitched at the sound of Simon’s throaty groan. 

“Bloody hell, baby,” Simon murmured, pulling back and cupping your cheek, his left fingers toying at the hem of your panties, “you’re fuckin torturin’ me.”

“Sorry, I’m not giving you the warm Chicago welcome I promised last night,” you smirked. “But it is very American of me to give a British man a hard time.”

The double entendre made Simon shake his head and chuckle. “When will you Yanks let that shite go?”

“When pigs fly,” you bit your lip and giggled, “or when you fuck me so good I can’t remember how many colonies you lost a war to.”

“I’ll do far more than that, love.”

“Yeah? Prove it, British boy,” you teased.

You gasped when Simon pushed you back into the mattress, your head landing on your pillow, your eyes fixed on the chestnut ones glaring down at you. You kicked the comforter down and off your legs, shivering when the cold air whipped against your bare skin and shivering at the way Simon was looking at you, something dark and hungry lurking behind his eyes and waiting to strike, waiting to hit you with something that only he could give to you.

“You really want me to, pretty girl?” he asked, his growl laced with uncertainty.

You nodded emphatically, reaching up to wrap your right hand around his left bicep, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt to leave crescent indentations on his skin. You wanted to leave marks all over him, wanted to let everyone know that the Chicago girl he fucked was as feisty as her city, wanted them to know he’d had the best pussy of his life in the windy city.

“I want—I need to hear you say it, baby.”

You smiled at the needy word that slipped out of his seductive mouth. “Yes, Simon.” You snaked your other hand under the hem of his shirt, splaying your fingers over his defined abs and parting your lips at the way he groaned. “I need you to give me the best cock of my life.”

A moan slipped out of his mouth, the whine filling the late morning air as sunlight illuminated his tawny hair. “So certain it’ll be th’best, are you?”

“I dare you to prove me wrong.”

His eyes snapped open, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes creasing with a devilish smile. “I plan to, pretty girl.”

You laughed when he flipped you over, his strength startling and thrilling you. Your panties were soaked, your cunt pulsing with need—need that had been delayed for far too long. You lifted your ass into the air with your knees and settled down onto your forearms, spreading your knees a little further apart, ready for whatever may come. You turned your head and pressed your right cheek into your pillow, closing your eyes and sighing as you let yourself begin to fall down the rabbit hole of pleasure that had been teasing you since he’d barged into your room earlier. 

The mattress lifted when he stood with a huff. You heard the old wood floor squeak under his heavy steps, the scratch of denim being forced to the ground, the hurried toss of fabric on the ground. 

He breathed your name. The mattress gently dipped behind your feet. “Fuckin’ hell, look at you.”

You yelped when Simon’s calloused hands grabbed your waist and tugged you to the foot of the bed, your feet dangling off the duvet. He gruffly tugged your shirt up to your neck with both hands, exposing your torso to the chilly apartment air. He ran his large hands down your bare spine absentmindedly with a rumbly, deep sigh, the sound and touch making you shiver. His hand landed on your hip, stroking up and down over the thin fabric barrier hiding your hot skin from him.

“Was thinking about this all goddamn night,” he mumbled lowly, his fingers tugging at the elastic band of your panties.

“Me too,” you breathed, neediness edging your voice.

You arched your back, twisting your neck to get a glimpse of the masked man. Your eyes met his for a moment before they flicked down to take in his toned body, his defined muscles like that of a god’s in the morning light. You ached to run your tongue along every crevice, gently drag your fingers down his sternum and sashay them across his impressive abs, murmur sweet nothings into his pale skin. 

“That’s it, love, arch that back for me, show me that gorgeous arse of yours.” His hands jiggled your ass as you did as told, and he hummed in approval. “There y’go, good girl.”

His purred praise and needy groans as you settled into a deeper arch made your walls quiver. As much as you wanted to lavish Simon with your own devotion, you were content to be at his command. For now, you were content to simper and sigh as he ran his hot hands up and down the sides of your torso, following the curve of your body and squeezing the skin and fat under his fingers. For now, you were content to give in to Simon’s desires, because you knew that the lust that filled his head also filled yours; the heady desire that made his cock throb also made your cunt pulse.

You gasped and scrunched your eyes closed when he clapped a hand onto the fat of your one of your cheeks, playfully huffing when he let out an amused chuckle. He forcefully exhaled and clicked his tongue.

“You are a goddamn minx, love,” he growled, the floor squeaking underneath his words. You jumped when you felt his hot exhale against the back of your sensitive thighs—he’d taken off his mask, you realized. He slapped your other cheek, kneading the meat in his hand as he exhaled in awe. “Christ, look at this fuckin’ thing.”

You giggled, pleased with the maskless exhale and with the admiration lacing Simon’s deep voice. “You like it?”

“Like it?” he asked incredulously. 

Simon chuckled and yanked your panties down to your knees. He desperately worked them off your legs and then spread your knees a little farther apart, exposing your dripping cunt to the cool air. His ragged, hot pants against the suddenly sensitive skin of your left ass cheek made you shudder—he’d taken off the mask. Your fists curled into the duvet, and you bit your lip as Simon pressed a fingertip against the top of your mound, then hissed as he delicately stroked it down the seam of your folds. The care he took to avoid touching your soaked sex drove you wild, sent shocks down your vertebrae, made a delicious heat gather in your gut, and you heard an embarrassing whine slip out of your swollen lips and fill the room.

“Oh, baby girl,” he crooned, pressing a burning kiss into the back of your left thigh under the curve of your ass, “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your proud chuckles were cut short when his thumbs pushed into your folds and spread them open. His tongue licked a sloppy circle around your dripping entrance and his fingers dug into the bottom of your cheeks as you rocked your hips back to experience more of his hot mouth. The fact that he was tall enough to kneel and still be able to eat you out made you go slack-jawed; what else was he capable of doing with size alone? Simon’s nose nudged into your crack and you whimpered the rest of your coherent thoughts away into the duvet when he nudged the tip of his tongue into your aching hole, jumping at the sensation.

He pulled away and released his thumbs, wet lips smirking against your thighs when you whined and pushed your ass back, silently begging for more.

“I knew your cunt would taste delicious,” he groaned, suddenly licking a quick stripe across your hole. “It’s jus’ begging for me t’fuck it.”

Simon continued his quick, teasing ministrations, lavishing your soaking core with his deft tongue. The man took his time, winding you up with each sudden suck on your folds and making you simper whenever on obscene slurp filled the air. He had you nearly howling as the morning light began to shift and heat your already-scorching skin with its rays. Your bones softened with every bit of praise murmured into your slick and sweaty center; each accented and heady “good girl” was a promise of even more sweet nothings yet to come from his wet British lips. Your head snapped up as he abruptly pressed the pad of his thumb against your hardened clit, drawing circles with delicious pressure that had your core tightening and begging for the sweet release Simon had been building up within you with every swipe of his tongue.

“F-fuck, Simon—” you hissed as his tongue nudged into your quivering entrance once again, cutting you off—“baby, please don’t stop.”

You heard him groan and felt the vibrations against your sensitive, swollen folds. “I don’t intend to,” he mumbled, his thumb never slowing and his other hand’s fingers kneading your thigh. “I feel you gettin’ close, pretty girl. Whenever you’re ready, I want you to cum on my fuckin’ tongue.”

You whimpered and shook at his statement, moaning as he continued to fervently lick your cunt, driving you towards that heavenly edge with determined circles and stripes. You noticed yourself languidly rocking your hips, adding a new, delectable motion to the drawings on your clit. Simon kept murmuring your name and nodding his head with muffled praise—“So fuckin’ good for me, such a pretty girl, fuckin’ stunning”—as your whines increased in pitch and volume. 

Your thighs tensed and your core tightened, your hole clenching as you whispered, “Simon—fuck—I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it, lovely, I want this cunt wet an’ ready for me,” Simon growled into your cunt, punctuating his command with furious laps and twists of his tongue.

You repeated your last three words over and over, his dulcet moans harmonizing with them as the holy refrain crescendoed into a glorious orgasm that made you shake and grit your teeth and pant his name. All the while, Simon slowly circled his tongue around your dripping hole, moaning and slipping his thumb off your clit and gliding it slowly up and down your saliva-slick seam. 

You shivered and squirmed at the stimulation, and he pulled back with a low, amused exhale, pressing a wet kiss onto your sweaty thigh as you began to come down from your heavenly high.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” Simon mumbled. “I bet you feel even fuckin’ better.” 

His hands curled around the front of your thighs before sliding back and up over the curve of your ass. You took one last shuddering breath as the floor creaked with his movement, and jumped when you felt his hard, hot cock rest above your crack. From this position alone, you immediately knew this man’s cock was going to destroy you, and your cunt quivered in anticipation of the tight squeeze.

You hummed and sighed. “Your tongue was fucking incredible,” you panted, wiggling your ass against his length, wet and loose and ready for him. 

“Best you ever had, love?”

You nodded emphatically, twisting your head back around to try to give him a satisfied smile. You could only see the left half of his face with the awkward and sharp twist in your neck, but you did manage to catch the corner of his pink lips quirking up into a smile, his ivory cheek flushed pink. You got a glimpse of the bridge of his nose—straight and sharp, a perfect companion to his focused brown eyes. Fuck, he was gorgeous.

“Absolutely, daddy,” you added cheekily, noticing his eyebrow raise.

Simon hummed in approval and chuckled, bending down and pressing his warm skin against yours, placing his right hand on the back of your head. Now, the features were a bit clearer as he tilted his head to the left—the sharp, angular jawline; that strong, straight nose; those thin pink lips that were swollen with arousal. 

“Keep callin’ me that, and you won’t be able t’move when I’m done with you, love,” Simon crooned, petting the back of your head as his tangy breath filled your nostrils, your juices still coating his tongue and lips.

“That’s the idea,” you replied with a giggle, batting your lashes. “I wanted that from the beginning, daddy.”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a wry smile as your eyes gorged themselves on his unique facial structure, cutting off your visual feast with a teasing thrust that sent his thick cock between your legs and pressing up against your sensitive folds. You nudged your knees apart a few more inches and readjusted your back, lengthening and stretching it. You settled back into a deep arch with a mischievous shake of your ass accompanying the movement. Now, you could only hope this new angle would allow his thick cock to slide deep inside your slick cunt.

“Can’t wait to feel you around me, love,” he rasped, running a knuckle gently down your temple to the middle of your cheek. You closed your eyes and smiled coyly, biting your lip and wiggling as you folded your arms underneath your head. Simon’s warm hand dragged up the curve of your back and came to rest on your hip, the other wrapping around his cock, his knuckles pushing up between your folds and into your slick heat. You whined when he swiped the fat head of his cock against your dripping entrance, huffing at his mirthful chuckles.

“What, does my baby need this cock?” Simon purred. You nodded, and he clicked his tongue, tapping your cheek with the pads of his fingers. “Use your words, darling. Daddy can’t hear you.”

His words made the walls of your pussy quiver and pulse, his deep voice penetrating under your skin and tickling your brain and clit at the same time. The man was making you fuck-drunk already and he hadn’t even notched the head of his cock inside your needy hole yet. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, all shame about your pathetic whines gone and replaced with a burning desire to be claimed. You were breathless as you panted, “P-please, Simon—I need your cock s-so fucking bad.” 

“That’s my girl,” Simon hummed, tapping your cheek and then withdrawing his hand to place it on your ass, fingers digging into the meat of it and making you hiss as he dragged his head up and down your seam, circling over your clit and cruelly nudging at your needy entrance. The sudden and subtle rough kneading and pressure hinted at his growing need, and you shivered at the thought of what was to come.

All the air was expelled from your lungs and your fingers dug into the duvet when he forced his thick length inside of you with a sharp thrust and grunt. Both of his large hands grabbed the fat of your hips as he rocked his, nudging himself deeper with each languid roll. A cry got caught in your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him and suck him in for more. Simon obliged, moaning your name as he bottomed out.

“You take me so fuckin’ good, baby girl,” Simon groaned, inhaling sharply along with you when he pushed in just a little more so his head could gently kiss your cervix.

He dug his fingernails into your skin as he slowly pulled out, holding you in place when you unconsciously followed his movement so he wouldn’t leave you empty and needy. You whined and cried and wiggled, but you were held still by his large, warm hands as he pulled out completely, leaving your pussy gaping and clenching around nothing. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love,” Simon mumbled as he gently eased your lifted ass and arched back forward so you could rise to your hands and await his cock on all fours. He traced a thick thumb around your gaping hole and snickered at your needy whimper. He gently flicked his thumb up and gathered some of the arousal leaking out of your throbbing center, then swirled it around your slick inner folds and hole. “Your cunt’s already cryin’ for me and I haven’t even properly fucked you yet.”

The mattress dipped on your left; looking down, you saw a muscular leg settling in near your waist as Simon urged you to crawl up a bit towards your pillows with a playful tap on your ass. A few seconds later, Simon’s right leg moved the mattress and his muscular thigh brushed against yours. You shivered when Simon’s bare torso fell upon your back, his searing skin colliding with yours. He had caged you in, trapped you underneath his broad, toned body and in his strong arms. You were at his mercy, stuck in the storm, and entirely helpless as he growled and groped you, his hot hands traveling up your soft torso to massage your breasts.

“Then do it already, Simon,” you urged, your pent-up lust infecting your tongue and tone. “Take me, daddy, please.” 

“Jus’ wanna play with my pretty doll a little bit first,” Simon husked. When you groaned in frustration, he shushed you and kissed the back of your head. “Patience, love. Daddy’s gonna take care of his doll soon enough.”

You rolled your head back when he bit into your shoulder and rolled your hardened nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers. Simon soothed the nip with a soft kiss you didn’t think he was capable of before his left hand gently curled around your neck, his hand hovering, waiting for your consent or denial. With a huff, you quickly lifted a hand and pressed his shaking hand against your throat and grinned when he groaned and pulled you up to your knees and into his chest, his cock nestling itself between your folds and brushing against your sensitive clit. Simon’s right hand was splayed across your waist, his fingers trailing over your right ribs as his left wrapped around your neck effortlessly. 

You closed your eyes and leaned back, giving him control as you raised your left arm over your head to find his and thread your fingers through his hair. A tangled moan escaped Simon’s throat at your touch, and you smiled. Yes, he was big and bad and built like a god, but you could bring him to his knees just by petting his soft hair. The strangled cry returned when you slipped your other hand down to where his cock bobbed up against your slick folds and graced your fingertips up the shaft and along the fat head’s weeping slit. 

“You’re driving me fucking mad,” he growled into your temple.

“Now you know how I fuckin’ feel,” you quipped, earning a playful pinch in your side that made you giggle and squirm in his firm grasp.

He hummed and moaned your name as you kept teasing his throbbing cock with your featherlight touches. In retaliation, he gave your neck a gentle squeeze, then settled his thumb and first two fingers over the pulsing veins on the sides of your neck. The pads of his fingers pressed into your jugulars, and the arch of his hand came to softly rest over your trachea to enhance the heady rush that you got from being choked. The pulsing, breathless desire was even more delicious since the man behind the hand was incredibly hot and rocking his hips up and brushing the leaking head of his cock over your sensitive bud, smearing precum over it with the help of your fingertips. 

“You are beyond perfect,” he declared, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I wanna look at your gorgeous face while I destroy you.”

Your cunt throbbed and you nodded enthusiastically, swirling needy circles over your burning clit.

“Would my baby girl like that?” Simon asked with a squeeze. 

You nodded and he released you, a sly chuckle in your ear right before he flipped you down to the mattress on your back, your tits bouncing from the impact as you giggled and tried to grab at his arms with your eyes closed. Your bedframe creaked in protest underneath Simon’s deep, amused hum, but you had a feeling he was going to leave it with a perpetual creak—or just break it entirely.

When you opened your eyes, you took in the man staring down at you as he stroked his cock with his left hand, the muscles under his tattooed left arm rippling with each restrained stroke. Simon’s brown irises were black and blown with lust and need, his cheeks pink like his swollen, thin lips that curled into a smug smile. You made a note to kiss his strong jawline and find out just how sharp it is while running a hand through his tawny hair and clawing at his thick pecs with the other. 

The morning was in full bloom, its bright light illuminating the sweaty dew on Simon’s chest and forehead. Simon stared down at you and let his hand wander all over your body as one of yours worked needy circles around your clit. He shook his head and spit in his palm, and your lips parted as he wet his cock with it before placing his hands by your ears, caging you in. He nudged your legs further apart with his knees, the head of his cock teasing your throbbing entrance. Simon’s hungry eyes never strayed from yours, even when you closed your eyes and begged him to fill you again.

“You’re a needy little thing,” he muttered into your cheek, the chain of his dog tags brushing across your chin as the tags fell flat in the divot between your clavicles. 

“Please,” you breathed, driving your body down to try to notch him inside of you, but he just clicked his tongue and moved along, denying you the relief you craved. “Stop teasing, daddy.”

Simon drew back and pinched your chin between his fingers. “Such a whiny girl.”

You rolled your eyes, the Chicago fire within you blazing to the surface. “I wouldn’t whine if you just gave me what I want.” 

Simon raised an eyebrow, curious and amused. His hand wrapped around your throat, and he applied a little more of that exciting pressure than he had before, your lips splitting into a grin. He shook his head and released your neck, spitting into his palm and then slipping his hand between your bodies. 

“You’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you, princess?” 

“And what’re you gonna do about it, daddy?”

Simon tilted his head and smiled sardonically down at you. Before you could tease him for his silence, two of his thick fingers forced themselves inside of you, twisting and pumping in and out. You jumped and cried out, digging your nails into his forearms. He repeated your name three times with a condescending tone, chastising you as your pussy squelched with each delicious pump of his fingers. 

It was embarrassing how close you already were to a second orgasm, but the shame disappeared when Simon leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You parted after a few seconds, only to catch each other’s swollen lips once again in a hungry, sloppy kiss as his fingers continued to work you open in preparation for his throbbing length. Simon’s thumb began to press circles into your clit as his fingers curled in and out of your clenching cunt, making you moan into his mouth with each pass of his fingertips over that hidden sensitive spot inside your cunt. 

Simon pulled away and gave you devilish smile, his lips wet with saliva. 

“I think I’m gonna fuck that American attitude right out of you, lovely.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

He kissed you and withdrew his fingers, leaving you achingly empty again. Your whine was quickly replaced with a heady sigh as he rubbed circles around your clit again with his cock. He dropped to rest his left forearm on the mattress, his sweaty abs brushing against your damp skin, his eyes locked on yours. 

“You are so fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he murmured, his hand wrapping around the top of your skull as he pressed a needy kiss into your wet lips.

It was while your mouth was occupied that he slid inside of you, making you gasp and grab at his shoulders. He raised himself up off his left forearm—damn, this man was strong—and planted his right hand next to your ear again as he slowly rocked his hips. His strokes slowly went deeper and deeper; Simon was playing with you like you were his own personal doll—and part of you didn’t hate that thought as you met his eyes and felt your heart skip a beat at the way he was looking at you with lust-blown pupils and a determined brow, his lips slightly parted for hot breaths to escape and blow across your dampening forehead. 

Simon was a god in the bright morning light, illuminated and sparkling. But with the way he set his intense gaze on you, the way he stared at your body with reverence, how he worshipped your wet, throbbing pussy with every fluid stroke, you’d think that he was the servant, and you the goddess whose altar he devoted his life to tending. Your name was like a sacred hymn to him; he choked and held back until your pussy began to spasm ahead of your building orgasm, and then he sang it out, filling your room with his musical moans.

You dug your nails into his carved shoulders, gripping him for dear life as you bent your knees and moved them up. Simon pulled out with a growl and then straightened, grabbing your thighs and yanking you towards him so your ass was in his hands.

“Put your legs up on m’shoulder—that’s it, good girl,” Simon husked. 

He pressed a kiss to your knee and notched the head of his cock at your soaked hole. He shook his head and gave you a soft smile—yet another thing you didn’t think he was capable of, but maybe the mask and tough exterior had you fooled—as he stroked your cheek. 

“You feel amazing inside of me, Simon,” you sighed, smiling back up at him. “I’m literally about to cum again.”

He seemed to perk up at that. “Is that so, princess?” 

You nodded, and he kneaded your ass before leaning over you and planting his hands by your shoulders. You let your legs fall open a bit more as his cock slipped inside of your aching cunt, a tease of what was to come.

“I want you to ruin me,” you pleaded, raking your hands up and down his sweaty back.

“Keep your eyes open while I do it then, pretty girl.” Simon shifted and pressed a kiss to your shin with a wink. “And tell me when you’re goin’ to cum again for me, princess.”

You nodded, then let your mouth fall open as he thrusted into your needy cunt, bottoming out with a groan. Simon began to fuck into you, his hips slamming into the fat of your ass, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air along with the dirty symphony of moans and whimpers. You did as told, your eyes never leaving his as he fucked you without mercy. The muscles in his back flexed and strained underneath your hands as he began to speed up, his erratic pace and rhythm revealing how needy he really was under the surface. 

He tilted your ass up a little bit and you cried out, scrunching your eyes closed as your abdomen tightened and fire began to spread throughout your cunt.

“Si-Sim-Simon, fuck! I’m gonna fucking cum!” You shouted and licked your index and middle fingertips, then started to rub furious circles around your clit, the fire of your orgasm about to engulf you.

“Oh, good fuckin’ girl,” Simon groaned. “Look at me, baby, keep those eyes open.”

You blinked your eyes open and were met with a proud smile from Simon as he continued to pound into your squelching cunt and slam into your cervix.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he purred.

You whined and rubbed your fingers around your white-hot clit even faster, your circles turning into furious swipes from side to side as Simon’s thick cock split you open. All you could do as your climax began to burn you up was stare into his eyes and whimper and moan in absolute pleasure. Your entire body was heavy with arousal and lust, but you somehow started to curl up off the bed as your abdominal muscles tightened in preparation for the eventual scorching fire.

“Go on, love, cum for me—make daddy so fuckin’ proud,” he coaxed, gritting his teeth as his own orgasm started to approach. “You can do it, princess, y’look so fuckin’ beautiful when you do—”

You cut his praise off with a shout of his name as your orgasm burnt you alive, and Simon immediately followed you off the fiery cliff with a thundering moan and one last, sharp thrust as he filled your spasming pussy with his spend. For a little while, all you could do was twitch and take deep, shuddering breaths as your orgasm continued to pulse through your cunt. Simon was hunched over you, a few drops of sweat landing on your sticky skin as you finally gathered the strength to wipe your sweaty brow with a shaking hand.

You slowly lowered your upper back and head back down to the mattress and wiggled your toes; your orgasm was so intense that you’d curled up and were still shaking from the force of it. Simon shuddered when he pulled out of you, giving you a concerned look when you winced in pain. 

You gave him a reassuring smile and sat up. “I’m okay. I’m just—ah—” you winced as you swung your legs to the side of the bed and stood up on wobbly feet— “gonna be sore for a day.”

“Well, that’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“I was going to—erm—” Simon cleared his throat and rolled his neck out before continuing. “I was going t’ask if you’d be so kind as to take me around on a tour of the city.”

You grinned, plopping back down and ignoring the sharp pang from the impact of your sore, leaking cunt against the mattress. You looked into Simon’s brown eyes, finding something a little shy. It was endearing, even if you knew that today would be the last time you’d ever see him.  Realistically, nothing could come of this—an international hook-up caused by a spilled drink—but you’d try your best not to think about that while showing Simon around Chicago. Instead, you’d try to focus on how he scrutinizes everyone around him, how he could potentially make taking the city’s public transit easier, and how you could maybe get to hold his hand if you play your cards right.

He called your name, snapping you out of your somber thoughts. Simon was standing now, tugging on his underwear as the sun lit his toned body up and made your spent pussy throb again when your eyes landed on his perfectly illuminated bulge.

“So?” he asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

“As your unofficial Chicago ambassador—” 

“S’you’re an ambassador because you took a mingin’ shot with me?” 

“Yes. Hush.” You stood and closed the short distance between you both, shivering when he wrapped his warm arm around your still-bare body without hesitation. You looked up at him and took a breath. “As I was saying, since I’m you’re Chicago ambassador, it would be my honor to be your tour guide, Simon.”

“I don’ think I’d be able t’find one prettier than you, love.”

Simon bent his head down and tilted it, his nose inches from yours. You felt your cheeks grow warm and your heart skipped a beat when he lifted your chin up with his fingers, the tip of his thumb dusting over your bottom lip. Now, with a less-clouded head and vision untainted by sex, you could see the finer details of his skin—a jagged scar a few inches long stretching up his cheek starting at the edge of his upper lip on the left, two tiny, brown dots right below the curve of his right eyebrow, a fine line in his forehead from age or stress—and appreciate it fully in the clear light of the morning.

“There are plenty of girls in Chicago,” you murmured, trying not to get lost in Simon’s handsome features or swept away in his arms.

He shook his head and parted his lips slightly. You moved closer to him and brushed your nose against his and placed a hesitant hand on his broad, muscular chest.

“There’s only one American lass that I want,” Simon insisted. He looked into your eyes and his lips brushed against yours as he whispered, “You.”

masterlist | join the taglist!

a/n: it felt so good to finish this after being blocked for so long. I hope you enjoyed; please reblog if you did, it's how us creators get exposure!

taglist: @tizylish @dheet @sinfulsalutations @oliviagreenaway @johfaam0 @sofasoap

[undeadcannibal]

Hey thought of some cute and funny Headcannons for Ghost, Gaz and Price teaching their s/o on how to make a “proper cup of tea.”

Summary: Ghost, Gaz, and Price show their S/O how to make a ‘proper’ cup of tea.

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Ghost, Gaz, Price

Warnings: None!

A/N: Thank you for the request, Anon! I hope I didn’t botch this one. OTL Hopefully y’all enjoy ‘em!  ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost―

Depression was a bitch. Even the simplest things like making food for yourself turned into arduous tasks. Much like today. You were trying to get something - anything, really - into your system just so you didn't feel even worse later on.

Grabbing a mug, you filled it with tap water and set it aside on the counter so you could rummage around through your selection of teas. While you were browsing, you could hear Ghost entering the kitchen thanks his heavy booted footfall, prompting you to glance at him over your shoulder.

"Hey, hon."

Ghost nodded silently as he strode over so he could place a kiss to the top of your head.

"Doin' alright, love?"

Pursing your lips, you hesitated responding before eventually shaking your head. "Not really, no. Having one of those days, I'm sorry..."

He shook his head. "Nothin' to be sorry for."

Looking over towards the counter, he gestured to it silently with a jut of his head. "Making a cuppa?"

"Yeah," You nodded. "I was looking through the teas just now."

"What'd you settle on?"

"Mm," You shrugged your shoulders. "Maybe some Earl Grey?"

You watched Ghost squint his eyes down at you, causing you to laugh softly. "What? Don't tell me..."

Ghost's chest puffed up as he took a deep inhale and exhaled slowly as he nodded his head eventually. "No offense, love, but I know when you're not feeling well you tend to throw things into the microwave more."

"I'm 'fraid I can't let you do that. Let me take care of it. I'll make one for myself, too."

Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you nodded your head in agreement anyway.

"Fine, fine." Snorting softly, you'd also comment. "Brits and their tea." Shaking your head for good measure.

Reaching around, Ghost delivered a light pinch to your backside, pleased with himself once he saw you jump and yelp in response. Smacking your smaller fists against his hard chest. "Watch your mouth, brat."

Afterwards, he walked away so he could grab the kettle he brought over just because he preferred it over other methods.

"Here," After he filled the kettle with water, he placed it on the stove top to heat up. "I'll teach you how to make proper tea."

Feeling a little better with Simon's company and attention, you couldn't help but nod and smile at him. "Yes Chef~"

Gaz―

"What tea did you wanna brew again?" Kyle asked as he picked out cups for each of you; his was a royal blue with a union jack on it, yours was molded after a black cat with the tail curled up for the handle.

"Oolong, please."

He nodded and took the loose leaf tea bag out, choosing his own shortly after while you took care of putting water into the kettle, setting it aside for it to boil. While you waited for the water to heat up, you walked over to him, pressing yourself into his back as your arms wrapped him up in a loose hug.

"Doin' alright, dove?"

"Mhm." You nodded against him only to jump shortly afterward when you heard the kettle going off, causing him to laugh at you.

Reluctantly pulling away, you'd reach over to take off the kettle from the heat. Readying it to pour straight into your mug before Kyle called out to you.

"Wait!"

Your eyes widened as you halted in mid-air, whipping your head to look at Gaz like he was a mad man. "What? What's wrong?" You asked in a concerned tone, shaking your head at him.

"You're brewing Oolog tea, right?" He waited for you to nod in confirmation before carrying on. "You've gotta let the water cool for a bit before adding it in. Over-boiled water will make the taste turn a bit off. Also," As he rummaged around in the drawer for something, he'd pull out a thermometer shortly after, smirking at you cheekily. "You've gotta let it brew for two to three minutes."

Staring at him with a deadpan expression, you couldn't help but sigh.

"You've got to be kidding me..."

Kyle shook his head. " 'Fraid not, love. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

"It's just tea!" You exclaimed with a chuckle. "I doubt the difference in taste is that noticeable."

"We'll see about that." He'd reply as he took the liberty of checking the temperature of the water.

You ended up just letting him do whatever he wanted so he didn't fuss over how you made tea.

After the two of you were done, you didn't really taste much of a difference than how you'd normally make it, but for his sake, you acted as if it was the best damn cup of tea you'd ever had. Taking pleasure in seeing him light up with pride at his success.

Price―

"How do you take your tea, sweetheart?"

You were currently making breakfast for the two of you while he tended to the tea. In the time you'd spent together, you'd learned that when he wasn't busy with work, he tended to prefer having tea over coffee when he could.

"Um," Scrambling the eggs in the pan, you hesitated in answering. "I guess sweet is fine?"

"Just... sweet?" John asked, turning to look at you with an amused expression on his face.

Meeting him with a glance of your own, you squinted your eyes at him as if daring him to say something. "Yeah? Don't tell me you prefer unsweetened tea." You teased.

John shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. Leaning back against the counter. "No, no. Not sure how they do things in the States, but we've a few ways to make a cuppa here."

"For example," He continued, gesturing vaguely towards the empty cups waiting on the counter top. "The kind I prefer has a bit of milk to it, few bits o' sugar as well."

"Oooh," You laughed softly, stirring the eggs in the pain as you joked with him. "My apologies, Gordon Ramsay, apparently I forgot to brush up on my tea knowledge."

Huffing, he'd glance off to the side with a disbelieving shake of his head. "The nerve of this one..." He mumbled to himself with a smile.

"I'm just saying," He'd begin, pushing himself off the counter so he could step over to stand in front of you. Towering over you with the height difference between the two of you. "Your poor taste buds deserve better, dear."

"Pfft, get out of here!" You laughed, waving at his face with your free hand. Before your hand fell to your side, he captured your wrist in a gentle hold, pulling it towards his face so he could kiss the back of your hand. The rough scrape of his facial hair coaxing a shiver to course up your spine.

"Never~" He spoke against your hand before he began to kiss his way up your arm. Stopping once he was close enough to you he could whisper just loud enough for you to hear. "Let me make you a right cuppa?"

How could you ever say no to that?

[wandagcre]

SAM & HER GF & COREFOUR IN CHRISTMAS HEADCANONS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!

christmas with the core four as sam's girlfriend 🎄

Note: this had become a christmas special writing hhh i hope you like it nonetheless <3

whether you have a tradition or not during christmas time, you'll certainly have a lively extension of a family now that you're sam's girlfriend!

you ask sam what you should prepare and she simply says "your presence is much needed of course, then some clothes and finally, hope for the best for the sake of your sanity"

you chuckle at sam's words. it was between a lighthearted joke and reality. the 3/4 of the gang is full of expressive and loud personalities but you already met them and hung out, so you know you're in for a (good) ride 🫶🏼

but thankfully, you're already welcomed so you thought your previous worries were silly. chad goes for a special handshake, then mindy and tara for a warm hug and how are you's <3 it was genuine too

sam is already smiling at the sight of you as she puts your bags away, how you're getting along with them in christmas style. she has known the twins for so long and was ecstatic to finally continue celebrating it with her sister, and now with someone special — you.

after settling in, you're surprised that they actually cooked? not because of their skills but them combined is a hazard and their brain cells cancelling out each other. sam chimed in soon as she caught the conversation, "hey what does that say about me then! >:( i instructed them carefully when they started cooking,"

rest of the gang laughed, took no offense to your assumption. they said that you were absolutely right. in fact, tara reveals she almost did the classic switch up - salt over sugar - all because she got immersed at their in between conversations to which you join laughing at.

it's so diverse! full of everyone's favorite dishes at christmas time instead of the traditionally expected dishes. you told them that this was such a good idea and made things even more heartwarming to celebrate. they smile and chad rubs your back, "of course. we're our own little family. we do it according to our favorite picks and sharing it... in a way feels like you're sharing love, too. it makes it even more special." mindy butts in, "not bad, brother."

tara agrees and says chad definitely has his moments.

then! from your back, apparently sam sneaked in and smoothly glides another dish - your own favorite! she looks anywhere else except your eyes, "you didn't know the theme and you deserve a slot in this tradition," she murmured and tara adds, "so that's what you've been burning your hands for?" your eyes well up in affection. you press a chaste kiss to which the gang gagged at 😭

"no mistletoe for you two!" - they reprimanded you

trying eggnogs in discreet - perpetuated by the twins, specifically by chad (unknowingly made them after mindy said "go wild, surprise me") and immediately regretted her words. after things cooled down (re: woodsboro and new york mess) they decided to bring it up, the carpenter sisters weren't safe and so were you!

sam looking at the sidelines, suspiciously smiling and seemingly anticipating. you took more than a sip unknowingly, then soon as it hit your tastebuds, your face was contorted in disgust. the women started laughing. chad says "don't hate the brits!"

sam says in your defense, "you know they eat baked beans with dry sausages and bread right?" tara agrees with ease, saying that's a fair point and flips off the twins for the same surprise they did last year. adding to the chaos, you firmly say, "yeah! it offended my tastebuds. i thought this was a christmas tradition not a frat initiation!"

the core four loved your response 😭 sam included, was laughing hard and gasping for air. it was witty and the twins playfully retort that it was extreme of you to accuse!

sam couldn't stop smiling and laughing oh my god somebody help her facial muscles! it's permanently stitched to her at this point

mindy loves the banter. she nudges you and says that sam is partially getting her lick back. but mainly it was in your honor, to which she gags at because you guys are subtly so sweet already 🥹

they introduce you to some clichés, but with a twist! gingerbread house making but five of you will pick names, not revealing them and within an hour u should dedicate it to them. they're all wonky creations but decent. sam can't do much to control it anyway as they try to sabotage everyone, including yours 😭 the clean up will be tedious for sure!

you're surprised that tara decorated yours in your favorite color and how she noticed since it wasn't that obvious and yet she noticed a pattern apparently, it shows with your stuff and clothing! i think hers are perfected, standard-like creation and you see her stickman drawing attempt of two persons - apparently it's you and sam

sam points at it, "is that us? why am i smaller?" and tara grumbles. "this is for your girlfriend can you leave my masterpiece alone?"

you agree with tara who grinned widely at your approval, "be nice. i think it's an adorable touch to this homey gingerbread house!"

mindy adds knowingly, "also, sam, i hate to break it to you but you're an absolute puddle of baby around your girlfriend, that's why you're smaller - duh. your real height is not equivalent to your height there." and tara spreads her arms, exclaiming 'exactly!'

chad looks back and forth, trying to grasp the context. "oh! oh! i get it," he clasps his hands rather loudly. "you're so right for that. and you let her call you sammy?"

you giggle at sam's petulant pout at the teasing but she doesn't deny anything. "whatever," she grumbles and when you wanted to appease it with a kiss as you lean in to sam, the 3/4 are already making gagging and vomiting sounds 😭✋🏼

watching movies based on your favorite christmas themed movies! (insert an obscure movie u randomly hyperfixated or a popular one from your country) usually it was a matter of rock paper and scissors for fairness, but since you're new they gave you a special pass and played your choice of movie <3

your pick was new to them. therefore they were entranced at the plot and you enjoy the commentary and how they analyzed it, like little kids during the movie time in class. you look to your side and see that sam's eyebrows were bunched and she ate in sloth-like manner 😭

baby was so focused! it was funny how she looked like that while her arm is hooked around yours and leaned to you comfortably. sam says i can see why this is appealing to you... it's so you and unique and it matched your energy and she happily rambles - much to 3/4's surprise

not because sam is silently attentive but it's their first time to see her so open and carefree with her partner and so they have this faint, knowing smiles on their faces. they're happy that sam finally have found her person that she feels comfortable and honest with🥺

as you go to your respective rooms (obviously you're rooming with sam) mindy shouts from the hall, "please be respectful and let's keep the jolly, wholesome spirit alive! we do not need anymore virgo babies,"

tara visibly wanted to vomit and covered her ears. chad looks at his twin confused, "since when do you have beef with virgos?"

meanwhile you and sam were stuck in chuckling and was flustered. "i didn't even think of that!" you shout back to mindy who replies with sure, jan. as you and sam settle in her room, you take her hand and swung them gently, your gaze intent on sam's brown ones. "thank you for having me. i felt so loved." both of your hearts felt so full. your silly smile is unerasable and so is sam's, you find it endearing how the two of you probably look like fools together.

and sam pouts cutely at your words. "no, thank you baby for being here. it's only a first of many more to come." she retrieved something - a mistletoe - on her pocket. sam placed it above you two, and you smirk at her sly action. "let's seal it with a kiss then?" you say to which sam eagerly responds to and met your lips with no hesitation.

[holdmytesseract]

Against the odds

Chapter Nine - Revelations

a/n: The next chapter is here, guys! 😁 Enjoy! ☺️

Word Count: 3,7k

Warnings for this Chapter: angst, mentions of past trauma, swear words, pregnancy things

Masterlist

Your brother's eyes darted from you to the suitcase and back, mouth agape. "Y-Y/N that's, uhh..." "Yeah..." You said, zipping up the suitcase once again. "Consequences... Like I said..." Chris was visibly shocked, expected everything to see in that suitcase, but definitely not an ultrasound picture. Being a triple dad himself, he knew exactly, what that meant. "I-I can't quite believe this..." Your brother started, shaking his head. "Y-You're pregnant?" You nodded. "My little sister is pregnant?" "Yep. After trying again and again and again for months with absolutely no luck, one slip up was enough." Chris still needed a moment to grasp this. "But, it's, uh, Tom's baby, right?" You scoffed in offense. "Of course, it's Tom's! Do you think like Nate now?! That I'm screwing through the actor world?" Chris' eyes widened, when he realised with horror what he had said. "No, no, no, of course not! It's just... So sudden and unrealistic! I'm so sorry, Arielle!" You sighed. "You better be..." Unpleasant silence spread throughout the room, before Chris cleared his throat. "So... My brother-from-another-mother is going to be a daddy... Woah, that's crazy. I bet he's super happy about it! He always loved kids." At his words you swallowed hard; felt your guilty conscience creep up on you again like so many times before. "Tom doesn't know it yet." You quipped in a quiet, ashamed voice. Once again, Chris' eyes widened. "What? You didn't tell him?? You just left without telling him??" "I know, I know, I'm horrible... I just... I had to go, I couldn't..." You didn't know what to say; felt the tears burning in your eyes. "I know, Y/N... I know..." Chris pulled you in another hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You sobbed against his chest for minutes and minutes, while your big brother just held you and comforted you. "You gotta tell him, Arielle..." Chris whispered. "He deserves to know." "I-I know - and I want to, b-but... It's just a lot at the moment." You felt Chris nodding against your shoulder, before he retreated from the hug. "Go to bed, rest." "Yeah... That's for the best, I think." Your brother placed a kiss on your forehead. "As soon as Liam arrives tomorrow, we are going to take you out, get your mind off things." You gave Chris a weak smile. "Sounds wonderful." "Good night." "Night." Chris left the room, closing the door behind you. A big sigh escaped your lips. Oh, what a mess...

You actually wanted to go to sleep, but then decided to pack out your things, you had haphazardly thrown into your suitcase before you left London. The ultrasound picture fell into your hands once again, of course. You stared down at it - at the small, innocent life, which was growing inside you. That was all you ever wanted and dreamed of, wasn't it? And yet you felt so torn. Shaking your head, you placed it back in one of the pockets in the suitcase and unpacked all your other stuff. It took a little while and managed to pull your thoughts off of all the chaos - and the gorgeous, handsome, heartbroken Brit at least a little bit.

It was almost midnight, when you sunk in the cosy sheets of the bed in the guest bedroom. A last check of your mobile shot a painful ache through your heart. About ten missed calls and dozens of messages from Tom. You squeezed your eyes shut and quickly turned off your phone, before the tears could start to fall again.

Sleep didn't come easy to you that night. You tossed and turned; thousand thoughts were running at lighting speed through your head. Your brain just couldn't turn off. The hours ticked by and at some point, you were mentally so exhausted, that you just slept in. But nevertheless, the sleep wasn't restful and therefore you felt awful as you stood up the next day...

"Morning." You slumped into the kitchen, tiredly rubbing your eyes. "Hey, good morning." Elsa greeted you with a soft smile. She was just preparing breakfast as it seemed. "Slept good?" You shook your head. "Not at all. My brain just couldn't shut up." Her expression shifted immediately, turned compassionate. "Oh no, I'm so sorry..." You sighed, before you sat down on of the chairs. "Yeah... Not even at night can I have a little bit of peace... This all haunts me even then..." Elsa's face scrunched up in worry, as she made her way over to you, sitting on the chair beside you and placing her hand on your shoulder. "You definitely need to get your mind off things, sweetie. I know, this is a difficult task, with Tom and the media being constantly present in your life, but if you don't do this, your mental health is going to suffer from this." You looked over at your brother's wife, almost helplessly. "I-I know, but... I just can't, I..." You had to swallow hard, in order to suppress the upcoming tears. She reached for your hand and took it gently in hers. "You will. Take time off. Rest. Text Tom you need a break. Turn off your phone. Ignore anyone and anything. It will help, I promise. Clear your head and sort out your thoughts and feelings. We are going to make this. You can do this, Y/N." You shook your head. "I-It's not just that, I-" You took a deep breath; about to drop the bombshell. "Elsa, I-I'm pregnant."

You expected for her to be totally shocked and surprised - but she wasn't. Quite the opposite. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as she squeezed your hand. "But that is wonderful, sweetie. Isn't that what you always wanted?" You looked at her, blinking. "Y-Yes, but Tom and I never talked about it, a-and we're barely six months together and the publicity and-" "Hey... It doesn't matter. You know why?" You shook your head. "Because first off, Tom loves kids. He would never turn you down. Never. Secondly, he loves you. I could see it in his eyes. From the very first time he met you. You turned this man's head - hard. He will fight for you. You two belong together. And thirdly... Don't let yourself get down by the publicity. Sounds easy, I know, but you have to learn to not let them get to you. Show the truth. Show them what a wonderful life you have with Tom. Show them how happy you two are. Be proud of what you have." You almost started to cry again right then and there at Elsa's sweet words. "Do you... Do you really think that?" Elsa smiled, giving your hand another squeeze. "I know it. You take a break now, breathe, and then we're going to get your man back." Her positivity and assurance caused you to smile - and for the first time in days, you had the feeling that everything would be alright again sometime. Elsa was the first who could really get through to you. Without hesitation, you pulled her in a hug. The angle was quite a bit awkward, but you didn't care. "Thank you so much." You spoke in a quiet voice. Elsa didn't answer, just squeezed your body gently, before you and her retreated from the hug. "Now let's get some breakfast into you. That's the first step we are going to take. After all, you need to eat for two now." She said, winking and smiling. "And then you are going to text Tom and turn your phone off for a week or more." "Yes ma'am." You saluted, giggling. Elsa rolled her eyes, but laughed as well. She went to pick up the pancakes she had made and placed the plate on the table; sitting down opposite you. "Where's Chris?" "Bringing the kids to school and kindergarten, before Liam arrives." You nodded. "Do you know when he's going to be here?" Elsa shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "Sometime today..."

After breakfast, you did what Elsa told you. You texted Tom and turned off your phone, before you buried it deep underneath the pile of clothes in your suitcase, which didn't fit in the small wardrobe in the guest bedroom. Then you helped Elsa clean up a bit, distract yourself - until Chris came back home, with Liam in tow. The reunion was great. You hadn't seen your brother in a while. The morning flew by quickly and in the afternoon, you put Chris' plan into action and drove all together to the beach for a nice day in the sun. The kids were hyped for this as well, of course. Especially, because they had their aunt and uncle around to play - and that's what you did. You and Liam played frisbee with them first. Tristan, Sasha and India were in one team, you, Liam and Thor in the other. The dog love to catch frisbees.

After taking a swim with them together as well and having an ice cream, the kids went to play in the water with their dad, while Liam took you aside to talk. It was important for you to know, what your other brother thought of this as well. Therefore, you and him grabbed a surfboard from the surf school across the beach bar and paddled out on the open sea. You would've loved to surf for a while, but you didn't want to risk losing the baby. Liam and you sat both on your surfboards, swinging softly in the water, because of the gentle waves. "It just got too much and the voices too loud. I had the feeling, that if I wasn't going to leave now, I would break and go insane. I just had to leave..." Liam nodded. "Sounds quite understandable." "My reputation is so utterly bad... I've been corrupted by the press - and I didn't want to pull Tom into this as well. I didn't want to stain his reputation. I didn't want him to get ruined by the publicity, just because of me..." You sighed, shaking your head. "He doesn't deserve this. I don't want to be the reason for his career to fail. I-I feel like I am just a millstone around his neck. I'm impeding him and his career..." Liam nodded. "I understand the way you think, Y/N, but I don't think that this is the case. Tom loves you - and love is way more important than fame. That may not be the way everyone thinks, but Tom does. I am sure of that. I would stake my life on it. Can't you see that you mean everything to that man?" You swallowed hard at Liam's words. He wasn't wrong, was he? "Tom would trade his fame for a life with you in a heartbeat. Don't let such a man slip through your fingers. Both, you and he deserve to be happy together." "A-And what do you think I should do now?" Liam shrugged his shoulders, as if it was the easiest answer in the world. "Shut the publicity out and concentrate on love. Concentrate on becoming a family with Tom and that kid." Your brother stated, pointing on your stomach with a smile. You nodded, fiddling nervously with your hands. "I-I really hope you are right and someday Tom and I can become a family." Liam paddled closer to you. So close, that he was able to wrap his arm around your shoulders. "Not 'someday', sis... Soon." He gave you a smile, before gently nudging your side. "See that buoy over there?" You frowned at his words, but nodded. "Yeah?" Liam gave you a boyish smile, before he quickly laid down on his surfboard. "Whoever's last at the buoy is a lame duck!" He prompted and started to paddle quickly. "Hey!" You yelled appalled. "That's not fair!" Liam was already ahead, laughing. "Oh, you're so going to regret that, big bro!" You quickly started your race to catch up on Liam, giggling.

A shiver ran down Tom's spine, as he stepped out of the hot shower into his noticeably colder bathroom. He slung a towel around his hips and ran a hand through his still wet hair, as he walked over to the sink. Placing both his hands on each side of the basin, the man looked up in the mirror and got greeted by his reflection. Actually, Tom wanted to brush his teeth, but now he was standing there, staring at his messed-up self. His hair completely wet and dishevelled. The beard covering his chin and cheeks wasn't just a stubble anymore. Dark circles underneath his faded blue eyes were the proof of the countless nights he spent wide awake. Yes, the sudden disappearance of you had took its toll on the Brit. The past three, almost four weeks had been cruel. Tom felt like he wasn't himself anymore... Especially not without you. It was like a piece of himself - of his heart was missing. A sigh escaped Tom's lips, as he rubbed a hand over his face. Almost four weeks... Four - and still not a word from you. Sure, he could've flown after you to Australia, but he didn't do it. Why? Because you had practically asked for it. For him not to follow you. 'Again, I'm sorry, Tom, but I need time. Alone. Don't come after me, please.' Your message was echoing through his head over and over again. His heart was yearning for you. To get things right again, but he would respect your choices and pleads. He wouldn't follow you, even if it hurt him to the core and he had to fight against the urge every day. The man shook his head in order to get himself out of his thoughts. He reached for his toothbrush and just wanted to start with the task ahead, as his doorbell rang. He ignored it at first, but when it rang again, he dropped the toothbrush and made his way towards the door with an annoyed groan.

When Tom opened the door, he was a slight bit surprised. He didn't expect one of his best friends standing in front of the door - at almost nine o'clock in the evening. "Ben? What are you doing here that late?" The tall man across him, with short dark brown hair and green-blue eyes smiled at his friend. "Getting you out of your misery." Benedict said, walking inside and closing the door behind himself. "Come on. Get dressed. I'm taking you out." "Ben, I'm not in the mood to go out, I-" Benedict shook his head, interrupting him immediately. "No, that argument doesn't count. You've been sitting inside here for weeks, thinking and thinking. That's not good, my friend - and you know it. Drowning in your misery isn't going to help you or the whole situation. Come on now. Put on a shirt and some jeans. You need to see something different than just the same walls every day." Tom sighed frustrated. "You won't leave without me, right?" The other Brit crossed his arms over his chest. "Right." Reluctantly, Tom trudged back into his bathroom, in order to get dressed and ready for going out with his friend. He slipped in a shirt and some jeans, before applying a touch of cologne and styling his short, blonde-brown locks a bit. Nothing too fancy. After all, he still wasn't in the mood for this and definitely not looking for a hook-up. Not in his wildest dreams. He wanted no other woman in his life, but you. "Tom, are you ready?" Benedict's voice brought him back down to earth again; out of his thoughts. "Coming!" He took a last look in the mirror, before joining his friend again. "Better?" The brown-haired man nodded. "Way better, but..." "But what?" Ben gestured towards Tom's face. "Does the beard stay?" Tom crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, why? Something wrong with it?" Benedict just shrugged his shoulders. "It's just different from usual..." Then he chuckled. "You literally look like James Conrad in that bar scene. I don't know if that is a good idea, regarding the womankind..." Tom sighed. "Ben, I am not going with you in order to pick up a woman." The man lifted his hands in awe. "I know, I know, sorry. I was just trying to make a joke and lighten up the mood, but well... Come on now." He clapped his friend on the shoulder and ushered him towards the main door.

Benedict took his friend to a small, quiet bar at the outskirts of London. It was a bar, where they were often before and usually wasn't very crowded.

Ten minutes later, they were seated inside the bar, both with a beer in hands. "Still nothing new from your beloved?" Ben asked, taking a sip of his beer. Tom shook his head. "No. Nothing. It's been almost four weeks, Ben... You know I respect her wish for me to stay away, but..." He swallowed hard. "I-I'm afraid I might lose her, I..." The blonde-brown haired man cut off his own sentence, running a hand over his face. "What... What if I already lost her?" His voice was filled with sadness and despair. "I-I love her, you know... Like I never loved a woman before and... Shit, Ben, I can't lose her. I don't know what to do without her." Benedict looked at his friend with a compassionate expression. "You won't lose her, Tommy. I am very certain of it. I mean, I didn't meet her very often yet, but I saw the love in her eyes for you. The way she looked at you. That woman loves you with all her heart, man... She won't let you go. She just needs time. The media was literally ripping her apart... Just like her poisonous wanker of an ex. Let her sort out her thoughts and get along with her life being suddenly the centrepiece of every tabloid out there. This isn't easy. We both know that. Just think back to your relationship with TS... It was just as bad." "It was - and that was the day I swore to myself that I would never let that happen again, and now? I fucked up. I failed to prevent exactly that from happening... I should've done more, Ben... Protect Y/N better from all the hate and disrespect." The blond-haired man shook his head. "You did protect her, Tom. The publicity was just stronger. Now stop blaming yourself. It's in the past. This isn't about the 'Should have's' or 'Would have's'... This is about the 'What now?'. This is about how you get your woman back. You've got to free her from the publicity's claws - that much is clear, but-" Benedict got interrupted by the ringing of Tom's mobile. Frowning, the Brit fished the device out of his jeans pocket. Who would call him that late, unless his mum, sisters or Luke? When he saw the name popping up on the screen, he felt his heart speeding up. Ben noticed that immediately. "Who is it? Y/N?" Tom shook his head. "It's Chris..." "That's very close to Y/N..." Tom nodded. "I know... Do you mind if I...?" "No, no, please, go ahead." He threw his friend a thankful gaze and quickly stood up, leaving into the dimly lit hallway, which led towards the toilets.

"Chris?" "Tom! Hey! I hope I didn't wake you up?" "No, I, uh, I am in a bar... Benedict dragged me along." Tom frowned again. "Why are you calling me at that time? It must be pretty early in Brisbane..." Chris sighed at the other end of the line. "It is, but... I have to talk to you. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep this longer from you. It threatened to eat me up inside... It's about Y/N..." Tom swallowed hard at his friend's words; felt how his heart rate increase once again. This didn't sound good at all... "Y-Y/N? W-What is it?" Tom feared the worst, to be honest. The Aussie sighed once again. "She's probably going to kill me for this, but I don't care..." Chris took a break to take a deep breath. "Listen, brother... She... She's pregnant - with your baby." Tom felt all his facial features derailing. He was speechless; couldn't believe what Chris just said. His head was empty, except for the last words, which left the Aussie's lips. They ran through his mind in an endless loop. "Tom? You still there?" Tom blinked, "Y-Yes, I-I..." and shook his head in order to get his mind straight. "S-She's... p-pregnant? A-And it's m-my baby?" "Yes. I'm sorry that I'm the one who tells you such an important thing, but... I couldn't keep it longer from you. You just had to know... And of course it's yours, Tom! Who else's?" And suddenly Tom felt like he couldn't breathe. The news overwhelmed him completely; over rolled him with the force of an 18-wheeler truck. He stood like petrified in that hallway. "Tom?" Once again, his friends voice urged towards his ear. "I-I call you back." With those words, he hung up and literally stumbled down that hallway, back to Benedict - who thought Tom looked like he had seen a ghost. "Tom? Everything okay?" Tom just stared at his friend for a long moment; a trillion things running through his head. Y/N. Pregnant. Your baby. Becoming a father. "I-I..." He stuttered, blinking, before he suddenly stumbled to pick up his things, like stung by an adder. "I have to go, I have to leave. I have to fly to Brisbane, I-" Benedict stood up as well, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, looking at him worried. "Tom, what's wrong? What happened?" "S-She's pregnant, Ben. Y/N's pregnant, I..." He shook his head and turned around to literally run away, before Benedict could even answer. Going home as fast as somehow possible, he checked several flights on his way, booking the first available to Brisbane. Arrived at home, he threw some random clothes carelessly into a suitcase and left in a hurry towards the airport. Now that Tom knew that you were pregnant with his child, he couldn't just sit here at home and wait. He just couldn't. He had to break his promise.

Tagging: @crimson25 @kikster606 @huntress-artemiss @123forgottherest @lovingchoices14 @ozymdias @vbecker10 @coldnique @lokixryss @simplyholl @peaches1958 @lokibadguy @jennyggggrrr @stephenstrangeaddictions @holymultiplefandomsbatman @mischief2sarawr @mypsychoticlove @mochie85 @muddyorbs @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @simping-for-marvel @lady-rose-moon @goblingirlsarah @kats72 @vickie5446 @buffyfan2833 @12-pm-510 @ladymischief11 @somewiseguy @woooonau @cabingrlandrandomcrap @alchemxx @honeyrydernot

[aprocessionofthoughts]

You Look Awful

whumptober2023 day 26- 'you look awful' fandom- Danny phantom TW- none summary- Valerie and Danny have a group project

ao3 whumptober23 masterlist part 3 of DA

Today was thankfully a good day, with minimal discomfort. And Danny took that as a sign that school would also go well. Of course he was wrong.

“And for your midterm, you will be working with a partner to create a presentation on an twentieth century author.” said Mr. Lancer. 

Danny looked over at Tucker, Sam was in the Brit Lit class, but then Mr. Lancer continued.

“For this project I will be assigning partners so there are no,” he gave several people including Danny a pointed look, “shenanigans.”

Danny waited impatiently for his name to be called. Please not Dash. Please not Dash. Please not Dash. Please not Dash.

“And Mr. Fenton you will be partnered with Ms. Gray.”

Danny felt like slamming his head onto the table, but was just barely able to resist. He took it back. He’d rather be with Dash. Valerie was usually alright, but she still hated his ghostly guts and that sometimes made conversations uncomfortable. At least with the bully Danny wouldn’t have to deal with someone ranting about the ‘evil ghost boy’ and how his parents were right to try and destroy Phantom.

Valerie sat down in the desk beside him.

“So, what author do you want to do?”

Danny shrugged, then gave in and laid his head on his desk. “I don’t care. I’ll go with whatever you want.”

Val sighed.

“Can you at least help me look for one?” 

Danny sighed but pulled out his computer and began looking up authors, beside him Valerie was looking the same.

Danny’s left hand twinged and he grimaced, rubbing at it with his right hand.

“You good?”

“Yeah, my hand just cramped.” Danny lied, not looking at her.

“Look, no offense, but you look awful.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “That is, like, the opposite of non offensive.”

Valerie huffed. “I just mean it looks like you haven’t slept in days. You stay up all night playing video games?”

“Something like that.” Danny said. “What about this author, he liked writing ghost stories.”

Valerie scowled, but allowed the topic change. “What’s the name?”

“Robert Aickman. It says on Wiki that he was part of something called the Ghost Club. that sounds right up your alley.”

“What?” Valerie said, suspicious.

“Because we live in Amity.” Danny deflected.

Valerie stared at him for a moment before sighing. “Fine. We can do that.”

“Cool. When do you want to meet?”

“I work today after school, but I can do tomorrow. Meet at the library?”

“Sure.”

[fanboo]

MEETING QUACKITY

okay so back when you where younger you used to watch quackitys streams.(when he had like 100 veiws each stream or 50) Though what you didnt know was the he watched you too. (your a streamer)(DOMINICAN ONE) (though its not that important😭) BUT ANYWAYS you guys didnt know yall watched each other (u also get a few veiws) A few years later when you guys have gained popularity you where invited to BANTER ( a podcast of karl sap and george( if u didnt know) but you both are friends with the banter people so thats why yall got invited the same time. during the podcast or after, u decide, you guys bring up the fact that yall watched eachother

HOW WOULD THE CONVERSATION GO AND WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO YOH GUYS?!

ps sorry if my grammer was bad😭 im not fluet in inglish since its not my first language

(I fucking LOVE this idea, also HELL YEAH FIRST REQUEST!!!!! Breaking my hiatus for you, anon. I hope you like it!!!!!!!)

(I do apologize for any Dominican butchering I do, admittedly I’m a white trans boi so as someone who’s constantly misrepresented I’m just going to mention you’re Dominican but won’t use it for the story until I feel I can comfortably write it without accidentally being offensive! I hope that’s okay.)

You’d been streaming for years, and it had been quite a journey so far. Starting at the bottom and building your fame. You couldn’t help but feel immense pride when you looked at your average view count. Especially when you found out it was close to Quackity, a streamer you’d been watching since he was just starting. (Another thing that caused you pride.)

Of course, fans had its ups and downs. Constant hate was one such down. That being said, an upside you’d recently discovered was being invited to BANTER, a podcast held by GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, and KarlJacobs. Obviously you’d accepted, the chance to spread your reach was clearly one you’d take.

Upon arrival, you found they also hosted Quackity. “Oh hey, you’re Y/NFlix, right? I’m Quackity,” he greeted. You smiled. “You know if me?” He smiled back proudly. “Been watching since day one.” Before you could continue the conversation, Karl popped in to let you know the episode was starting. “This conversation isn’t over,” you said to Quackity before following him onto the set.

After the episode was filmed, you and Quackity met back up and continued talking. He was telling you about QSMP, and you were trying to figure out how to ask how he knew you. You decided to just go for it. “Hey, how’s you know of me?” You asked, interrupting him. Quackity grinned. “What do you mean? I’ve been watching you since day one. Of course I know you.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Quackity. Watched you. What. “Actually?” You asked, to which he nodded. “I always gift subs and everything. Literally look up to you,” He said. This made you grin. “You’re actually my idol. I’ve been watching you since day one. This is crazy.”

The streamer laughed and slung an arm around your shoulder. “Hey, we gotta stick together! Take over those Brit and American streamers!” You laughed with him and nodded. “That we do.”

You smiled at your idol. You couldn’t believe you were his idol. This was surreal. But you didn’t want to lose a second talking and joking, so you nodded again. “That. We. Do.”

(This took ages. I am so sorry. And it’s really bad because I’m writing it right after a mini panic attack. Um. Enjoy though. I don’t know. I’m… running out of inspiration and energy. Good luck out there guys, send more prompts, see you next time.)

[usedtobemygirl]

So what is your evidence that matty is not a bad person?

He’s offended so many marginalized groups and they’re allowed to be upset that a person that they look up to is associating herself with someone who has been so offensive.

He watches porn where the premise is beating black women. He has openly admitted to this. There’s a video of him doing a nazi salute (and even if he was making fun of nazis, he still did an action that’s literally illegal in Germany because of how offensive it is and he’s not Jewish, he doesn’t get to do that). He called ice spice chubby and then made fun of accents.

How do those things not rub you the wrong way? How do you not see that people of color and Jewish people are hurt by this

id say that if you’re upset about him doing a nazi salute during the line in the song that says ‘thank you kanye, very cool’ during the time when kanye west was being antisemetic and he was making a statement against it then you need to get a grip, and you obviously don’t understand the point he was making.

also when matty healy made that joke about porn, the ppl he was with said it wasn’t even real he was doing a bit. (X) obviously it’s a stupid fucking joke but like it’s not real

and yeah it was a shitty think to say to abt ice spice but I’m not sure she cares that much considering she’s collaborating w taylor lol.

it’s ok to be angry or not like him but to try and demand who she dates is weird as hell and it’s odd ? why do you think you can do that lol ?

he’s not a bad person because he’s a feminist (x) he spoke out against the abortion bill and was very vocal against it (x) my favourite quote being ‘you are not men of god, you are simply misogynistic wankers’. in 2019 his Brit awards acceptance speech criticised misogyny within the music industry and quoted the guardian feminist writer Laura Snapes in order to make his point that the music industry is misogynistic (x) in 2020 he stated he would not play another lineup at a festival unless there were as many women as men playing at the said festival (x)

he’s not a bad person because he’s a very vocal advocate for LGBT rights, he has raised thousands for lgbt+ projects (x), he was banned from Dubai from kissing a man on stage in order to protest the anti-lgbt laws they had put in place (x) this act was literally punishable by ten years in prison but he still did it in order to combat homophobia.

he is also very in support of people who strike and unions and has urged his fans to resist to demonise those who strike (x)

he’s also an environmentalist who is extremely in support of Greta thunburg despite the fact all British journalists hate her, yet he still sticks his neck out because he knows it’s important (x) the 1975 also have gigs where they use hybrid power generators in order to reduce their carbon footprint (x)

i just think there are many other things you need to be focusing on currently as the world is a shitshow ! and maybe not obsess who ur fav pop star is fucking right now but maybe that’s just me !

[lepartidelamort]

UK: BBC Wonders If Term “Ethnic Minorities” Should be Replaced with “Global Majority”.

Why do they all have to live in white countries ?

GB News doesn’t bother linking the BBC article, but you can read it here.

GB News:

The BBC has come under fire for questioning if the term “ethnic minority” should be replaced with “global majority”. In recent years, various organisations across the UK, including the Government, have dropped the acronym Bame, which stands for black, Asian, and minority ethnic, and in its place are opting to use the new phrase “global majority”.

It’s ominous, no?

It fits well into the “they will bury you” narrative that is constantly pushed to make people believe resistance is futile.

The term was coined in 2003 by Rosemary Campbell-Stephens, a British-Jamaican academic, and refers to people who are “black, Asian, brown, dual-heritage, indigenous to the global south, and or have been racialised as ‘ethnic minorities’”.

Rosemary Campbell-Stephens

Campbell-Stephens said in 2020 that the group accounts for more than 80 per cent of the world’s population. In March 2022, the Government committed to no longer using Bame, instead opting to use specific ethnic classifications wherever possible. … Last year, the National Council of Voluntary Organisations (NCVO) announced that it had adopted the term “people of the global majority” to refer to all ethnic groups except white British and other white groups.

In an article discussing the growing buzzword, the BBC questioned if the term “ethnic minority” should be dropped entirely in favour of the new phrase. The suggestion caused a ruckus online, with users suggesting the term creates further division. One user said: “What an insane question. ‘Global majority’ is a poorly understood and offensive term for Brits to use. It means classifying non-white Brits – not with their fellow citizens – but with the birthplace of their parents and grandparents. Far-left and far-right seek the same division.”

Yeah, but the far-right wants to physically remove these people.

So I don’t think horseshoe theory applies.

Political commentator Tim Scott said: “No single ethnic or racial group has a ‘global majority’. You can only construct a majority by including some groups and excluding others. In this context ‘non-white’ might be a more honest term?” Sam Bidwell, from the Adam Smith Institute, said: “Activists should be careful what they wish for. Creating a ‘global majority’ identity, defined in opposition to Europeans, will undoubtedly lead Europeans to define their own national identities in opposition to the ‘global majority’.” Another said: “The supposed benefit is from giving people a confidence boost by telling them they’re in the majority. Surely “majority=good, minority=bad” is an idea we need to get away from?” … However, others defended the use of the term. “It’s not semantics; it’s maths”, an individual said. “White Europeans are only 9 per cent of the global population. If you want to talk about minorities; white people are it.” “Embracing ‘global majority’ celebrates the strength and diversity of people worldwide!,” said another. The founder of BE.Xcellence, a Welsh company aimed at lifting the voices of Black, Asian, and minority ethnic people, said: “It speaks to unity, it gives you prominence and I think it helps us feel not less than. “[The word] ‘minority’ can make you feel that you are less than, you are the least, when in reality we are the more in terms of numbers.”

Does this apply to white people being made a minority in their own countries, something they already were globally?

No?

Why not?

Snake Baker

[bisluthq]

equating taylor to brit royals is perfect because the comments joe gets makes me wonder if he really was secretly british married to Prince Harry and deux just mixed them up

Obviously Meghan Markle hate has a huge root on racism and misogyny that joe will never EVER face, but at the end of the day i feel like people are still just *really* fucking mad they get to keep being rich and comfortable and stay doing celebrity stuff, like, both Meghan and joe are classy people that clearly enjoy having nice things around, so there's every incentive for them to stay in their previous set up, but the fact that they left and still get to keep being fancy just keeps rubbing salt to the wound.

The people that obsess over taylor and the royals know deep down they're a nuisance, but everytime someone sane puts up with it for a bit and bounces, they're reminded of it hard-core so it becomes a personal offense. Idk if I'm making sense 😭

you kind of are. I mean obviously Joe isn’t facing Meghan levels of hatred but like yeah it bothers people that they like attention and parties and nice things lol whether or not they’re with Taylor or in The Royal Fold. That’s just how they are. They don’t want to do aspects of Taylor/the Royals but that doesn’t mean they wanna live in like Bishops Stortford and shop exclusively at Tesco. They wanna live in London/LA/NYC and go to M&S lol.

[mattslolita]

https://www.tumblr.com/mattslolita/750213773230587904/me-personally-i-think-eurovision-is-the-most

hmmm maybe its more a british thing, basically a song contest where diff countries compete and then whoever wins gets to host the next 'eurovision' in their country!

oh thats interesting !! but yeah it does sound kinda boring...no offense to my brits i luh y'all

[britbixch]

I barely check my tumblr, why did this get 200 notes and sm reblogs, I didn't expect this to blow up. Anyways yeah, I am wholly against USUK, as a brit I find it not only offensive but incredibly wrong and don't allow for USUK (or any proship) near my page. I have the tags blocked so it's very disrespectful to go INTO my page and bring it to me. I am a Fruk brain-rotter; I hope that was made clear by the art I do haha. I am not even against any ship that isn't a proship, I don't ship anything else with England or France but am very accepting and very interested in what people have for any other ship so long as it isn't incestuous or predatory. Disheartened by that situation but it is what it is. Xx Not trying to start any shite, trust me, I forgot I even had a tumblr to begin with. Just saying what I need to say because I am very opinionated on everything and nobody can take that away from me, God bless the United Kingdom xx In all seriousness, just boundary-setting

Got my FRUK art with child America reposted as "Usuk"