#only one of the bands on here is even in my top ten i think :')

[verkja]

10 Songs, 10 People

Thanks for the tag, @i-can-even-burn-salad :)

Rules—put your library on shuffle and post the first ten songs, then tag ten (or some other number of) people.

Links go to YouTube.

1. Last of the Wilds by Nightwish

2. Rashōmon by Ningen Isu

3. Icewind Dale Theme from Icewind Dale

4. (Don’t Fear) the Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult

5. 1000 Violins by The Cliks

6. Cymbeline by Loreena McKennitt

7. Earthsblood by God Forbid

8. Orphan's Lament by Huun-Huur-Tu

9. Erlkönig sung by Jessye Norman

10. The Misshapen Steed by Agalloch

Tagging... eh, @whumpinthepot , @quietly-by-myself , and @cryptidwritings , if you like - no pressure!

[benedictscanvas]

coat stays on - remus lupin x reader

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: it’s just sickly sickly fluff my loves

a/n: @burnthoneydrops encouraged me to post this weeks ago and honestly i totally forgot about it but she’s wonderful and i can’t deny her!! i hope you enjoy, it’s the first i’ve written for remus so i’m a little conscious of it! i’ve also just opened up requests and you can see the characters i’ll write for here, please send in all the fluffiest fluff your hearts can think of <3

- - -

If your hand was starting to feel a little clammy in the crook of Remus’ arm, you weren’t saying anything. The streets were lined with market stalls and lots and lots of people, more importantly, and you were pretty sure if you let go of him right now you might never see him again.

“Doing alright sweetheart?” he asked, leaning his head down to your ear so you’d hear him properly because the man refused to raise his voice even a little, “Still with me?”

You squeeze him tighter to you and rest your head on his arm briefly rather than answering. The two of you had long since lost the others in the crowd, likely because you weren’t clinging to them as you did Remus. It would make you feel silly if it didn’t make you feel ten times better.

It had been Lily’s idea to venture out into the Sunday markets in town, but she clearly hadn’t thought about the timing. Just days before Valentine’s Day and it was packed, almost shoulder to shoulder as you traversed the street. But the 5pm February darkness had enveloped the cobblestones and most of the stalls had decided to illuminate their wares with pretty fairy lights on strings, wrapped around the poles. All kinds of colours. There was a helter skelter a little ways down that was lit up in warm gold.

Despite struggling with the sheer volume of people, Lily had been right that it would be something you’d enjoy.

Remus steers you towards a stall with a blue and white striped roof, filled with fudge of every flavour you can think of. He’s quiet as he stares at them all in turn, but when his eyes land on your favourite, you watch him smile and point it out to one of the sellers.

“That’s not fair,” you murmur, nudging him with a sharp elbow, but either he doesn’t hear you or he ignores you. To get your own back, you signal to the other seller and ask for Remus’ favourite in return.

“Here we are,” he says, handing you the paper bag once you’re a little away from the stall. You’re smug as you hand him one right back. He looks inside before he pouts at you and its adorable. He’s adorable.

“Thank you,” you grin and he rolls his eyes but still thanks you back. Then he points over your shoulder, where the buskers are playing, to the little tables for resting shoppers. There’s an empty one. The two of you share a brief look before you scurry over to claim it. When you sit across from him, you have to let go of his arm and it feels all wrong.

Until, of course, he shuffles his chair around the table so you’re sitting next to each other instead, facing the band.

You’re both content to nibble on your respective fudge for a while, listening to the music, but Remus breaks the comfortable quiet.

“I’m sorry we lost the others,” he says, face close to yours in a way that makes your chest ache, “I know you and Lily were looking forward to this together.”

He’s right in one way, because you were. But it was also inevitable that you’d only get half of Lily’s evening and that James would get the other, something you were thrilled about, honestly, if it meant that during that other half you got Remus.

You couldn’t quite tell him that, yet, so you settled for the next best thing.

“Sirius was in one of his moods,” you shrug, “I think we’ve come out of this one on top.”

Remus doesn’t laugh. You find it quite hard to make him laugh and you used to be conscious of it. You’ve since found that the little smile he does towards his lap is even more gratifying, like he’s holding in a belting laugh out of something that looks like fondness.

He’s doing it now, bottom lip caught by his teeth.

“Right as always,” he muses, looking back up at you, soft as ever. You struggle to keep the awe from your face.

“I am often right,” you whisper back, breaking off another chunk of fudge and popping it into your mouth, “It’s really pretty here at night. Shame about the people.”

“They’re awful, aren’t they?” Remus says, only joking a little, “Although, I’d rather you didn’t come here at night when no one’s around, hm?”

You nudge him again just because you can. He catches your elbow as if punishing you but all he does is run his hand down from your forearm to your hand to see if you’re cold.

“Mr Protective, you are. As if I’d want to come here on my own, idiot.”

“You’re cold,” he says instead, mutters it like he’s talking to himself as he squeezes both your hands in his own. You wonder if he even heard you call him an idiot like he was your favourite person on the planet.

“It’s an evening in February, lovely, of course I’m cold.”

You watch his pink-tinged cheeks to see if the blush deepens at your best name for him, but you can’t tell if it’s just from the chill in the air. He starts unbuttoning his coat, leaning forward in the chair to take it off.

“Woah, slow down there Rem,” you insist, holding your hands out to him to stop him, “I am fine. Since when do you worry about me so much?”

He doesn’t answer straight away but he does put his arm back into his coat. He’s thinking about what to say, something you’ll always let him do, but it means he’s going to answer seriously. It’s worrying when you’d just been teasing him.

“I always worry about you, I think. Absentmindedly. Wondering if you feel alright, if you’re comfortable. You haven’t looked very comfortable this evening.”

He doesn’t lie to you, ever, but you’re pretty sure that’s the most honest Remus has ever been with you. He can’t even look at you either, just staring at the floor and scuffing his shoe against the chair leg.

“Remus…”

“I don’t like you cold. And I don’t like to think of you alone. Sorry. I know you don’t need looking after like that.”

And he sounds heartbroken enough to break your heart.

“No, I don’t need looking after,” you confirm softly, because it’s true. He’s always said you’re the most independent person he knows. But you still wind your arm through his and tug him into your side, “I’d quite like it if it’s you, though, I think. If you’ll let me return the favour.”

It’s always the returning that he’s not so adept with. Your affection and your time and your energy are all things he struggles to see he deserves. It’s mostly why you worry about him too.

“Don’t take your coat off for me though,” you warn, putting your head on his shoulder, “You idiot.”

This time he definitely hears you and he must hear how utterly smitten that word is. He’s your idiot. He has to know it by now.

“Okay. Coat stays on,” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your crown and then place his chin there, gentle as ever, “Also, I lied. I’m very glad we lost the others, by the way. Not sorry at all.”

So maybe he did lie to you sometimes. It was a lie you didn’t mind, even if you’d pretend to.

“Yeah? Why’s that now?”

He slowly nods his head until his nose is nuzzling you instead of his chin, and you feel another feather light kiss, this one near your ear.

“Like you lots. Even more than them,” he breathes, and you try not to melt into him then and there.

“Oh lovely,” you whisper, “Like you lots too.”

[milqueandsugar]

🌼☕` Green With Envy `☕🌼

Gen / hurt-comfort if your like ten feet away and squinting, Fluff

Includes / Charlie , Alastor , Adam

| CHARLIE |

Charlie is never really jealous, alright, she has complete trust in you

That being said, it definitely happens!

Charlie is really, really emotionally intelligent and picks up on subtleties alot of others don't, she may be naive and trusting but she's not stupid and her vibe check has yet to be off

Ignore alastor that was a calculated risk

So when the two of you decide to take a break from promoting the hotel to share some greasy, cheesy food at a pub

Most food places were groceries, cannibalistic or bar and grills, so it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to go out for food and have a few drinks while you were there

She had just returned from the bathroom when she spotted the sinner chatting you up at the bar counter

Something about the sight, maybe the lighting, maybe how close the stools were- therefore how close you were, or something about how you played with the straw of your drink absent-mindedly set her off

She's not- proud of what she did per se

She slides in next to you, interlocking her fingers with your hand resting on the counter top, squeezing it affirmingly

"Hey hon, whose this?" Tone too cheery, smile a little to calculated

It's then she saw the hotel flyer in the sinners hands, aw, whoops

"Oh this is-"

"Travis."

They extended their hand too shake and still a little embarrassed about her initial take she took his hand, fumbling slightly before he squeezed her hand a little too hard

Oh

She wasn't the only one jealous here

She was VERY quick to get you two out of there, some emergency at the hotel or with nifty, or something, she doesn't like feeling like this and she doesn't like being in a situation that might make you uncomfortable, and to be very, very honest she did NOT want that demon anywhere near you

| ALASTOR |

He's a very confident man, he knows you love him, he knows that you know he'd do anything for you, he's comfortable with you

That being said when he finds the letter inviting you to an interview on 666 NEWS by Vox he felt all the jealousy he mocked others for having rise in his throat like bile

"It's some sort of trap, I don't want you going."

He sets the letter down in front of you, let's you read it, digest it before shrugging

"I don't know why'd they want to interview me anyways, I don't even think Angel has an interview with him."

"Oh I can think of a few reasons. "

He runs his fingers along your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him

"Maybe I should go then."

"What."

He didn't have time to register your teasing tone before your giggling at his expense

"If the people love me as much as you do maybe I should go on."

"Oh no one could possibly do that, no one who wants to live anyways."

Now it's his turn to tease, and he takes the letter from you, tearing it up

"Though since you seem so keen on fame why don't you join me on my radio show?"

| ADAM |

Jealous all the time

Doesn't bring it up because he wants you to believe he's confident but bro he's dying inside

The only time he ever, ever directly told you he was jealous or uncomfortable was in his early days in his band, back when he was newbie to the group and was working to gain his name in the industry

It was just after the show and the lot of you were hanging back stage, signing shirts and breasts and having a few drinks

You were talking about something inconsequential when a fan came up and started talking to him, you took your cue and peeled off to get a beer for the both of you

That fan came and went, and another, and another and he thought first you stopped to use the restroom, i mean hell he kinda needed to piss too

When he caught a break between fans he headed to the restrooms, now worried you didn't have toilet paper or accidentally locked yourself in (not speaking from personal experience at all, he doesn't want to talk about it)

Instead he found you backed up by some sound tech guy

"I uh- I should really get going, my boyfriend, uh is my ride and I gotta get home-"

"Why going so soon? I saw you behind stage waiting for him, I gotta say cutie, your worth far more than that ass."

"Haha, yeah, he's definitely an ass but he's my ass, yknow?"

Something about your nervous laughter burned that jealousy straight to anger

"Yeah, speaking off assholes."

He practically tossed the guy off of you

"Take a hint."

He was angry for the rest of the day, not at you, not ever at you, but damn, he needed to blow some steam off, mostly by angry ranting to you in your apartment

"What was that guy's fucking problem!?"

"That guys NEVER going to be on set again, fuck what if it was someone else who didn't have someone looking out for them yeah?"

[queen-of-the-avengers]

A First For Everything

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader x Steve Rogers (no stucky)

Word Count: ~3.5k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Steve Rogers. Thoughtful, considerate, and loving. He makes you feel safe and wanted. Bucky Barnes. Passionate, adventurous, and dangerous. He makes you feel alive and free. You think you can only choose one, but what happens when they offer to share you?

Squares Filled: image of bucky and steve from the comic (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

You don’t have a lot of money but you love reading so you spend a lot of time at your local library to read all the books you can’t get otherwise. They have a checkout system that allows you to take home up to five books. If you want more, you’ll return what you read and the cycle continues. You’ve been so often that the librarians know you by name. They often allow you to take home an extra book knowing you’ll return it in the same condition you got it at.

“Hey, Marie,” you greet when you walk in.

“Y/N, dear, how was your weekend?”

“Spent my nose in all the books I borrowed last week. I am here to return them and get five more.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to sneak a sixth in there,” she smiles.

“We’ll see,” you chuckle.

She takes the books and you head to the section you’ve been obsessing over for the last few months. There are three books you had your eye on last week hoping that they’re here now. You turn the corner and see a tall blond man browsing the same section you’re going to. He’s looking at the shelf that contains one of the books you’re interested in. You could ask him to move but you’re mesmerized by this man’s physique. He’s tall and very muscular with short blonde hair and a clean-shaven face.

“Can I help you?”

You’re brought back to reality when you hear his velvety smooth voice.

“No, sorry. I just, um, need a book from that shelf.”

“Oh, sorry. Here.” He moves to the left and allows you to step into his space to grab the book on the very top shelf. Your fingers touch the edge of the shelf but you can’t reach the book. This is so embarrassing. “Do you need help?”

“Yeah. It’s the pink book right there.”

“It’s a good book. I’ve read it five times. I love this book.” He grabs the book and hands it to you with a smile. He even has a gorgeous smile with perfect white teeth. “I’m Steve.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Are you new around here or have you lived here long?”

“I’ve lived here nearly a year. I like to come here and read as much as I can.”

“That’s cool. My roommate and I just moved out here. We’re trying to venture out and look for fun things to do.”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re into but there is a concert venue downtown that holds small concerts from bands that aren’t really well known. It has a bar and it’s a good way to listen to some new music. There’s also a farmer’s market on the opposite side of town that has delicious food. I like to go there.”

“Seems like you know your way around town.”

“Yeah, I do. I like to do new things every week and just get out of my apartment.”

“Think you might want to show me around?” You blush at his offer and he chuckles. “You’re incredibly beautiful and I’d love to take you out if you let me. I just don’t know much around here so I think I need a tour guide.”

“I can be your tour guide if you want,” you grin. “The beaches here are pretty nice, especially at night.”

“Good to know,” he smiles.

You hand him your phone so he can put his number in, and you call it so that he has your number. You part ways and grab the other books you’ve had your eyes on before heading back home. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough, it’s all you can think about. Steve says he��ll be over at seven to take you out, and you start getting ready two hours before the date. You take an “everything” shower, dry and curl your hair, get dressed in the perfect dress and shoes, do your makeup, accessorize, and spray your best perfume. You’re ready with ten minutes to spare, and Steve is knocking on your door before you know it.

“Wow, you look amazing,” Steve smiles.

“Thank you. You clean up nice, too.”

He leads you to your car and opens the passenger door for you. You’re not sure what kind of date he’s taking you on but you’re excited to see what he researched. For someone who doesn’t know the area, it’ll be interesting to see what he thinks is worth going to. Steve drives to the coastline and finds a parking spot right next to the beach. You love the beach and often come here to either read your books or enjoy time in the sun. You don’t normally come here after the sun has gone down so it’s nice to see the beach free of people.

“I never come here at night. It’s nice,” you grin.

There is an ice cream shop that’s open late to give people a reason to stay in the area, and Steve leads you over to it.

“What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Either strawberry or mint chocolate chip. Surprise me.”

Steve gets ice cream for both of you, and you two eat it while walking along the shore of the beach. You two take your shoes off to allow the water to wash over your feet whenever it splashes onto shore.

“So, tell me a little bit about you.”

“Well, I live alone. I have a degree in psychology. I own three dogs and two cats so it’s never quiet inside my house. I love reading. I think I spent more time inside the library where we met than anywhere else. If they let animals inside, I’d bring all my dogs with me. What about you?”

“I live with my childhood best friend. I never went to college but I did graduate college. We have one cat that’s mostly my roommate’s but I think she loves me more. I’m more outgoing than my roommate and love to go out and meet new people.”

Talking to Steve is easy. You’re not big on being social but there is something about Steve that brings you comfort. He’s safe and you can see yourself falling for him quickly.

“Despite coming here all the time, I have never had this ice cream before. This is delicious,” you grin and take another bite.

“You got a little something…”

“Where?” you gasp and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Here.”

Steve scoops some of his ice cream and touches the cold treat to your nose. You gasp and look at him with wide eyes.

“You did not just do that.”

“I did,” Steven grins.

You don’t even think about what to do next. You take a scoop of your ice cream and shove it into his face, watching as it drops from his face onto the sand. You and Steve are at a standstill with a tense silence between you. He jerks toward you and you take off running away from him with a squeal. He catches you easily and threatens you by moving his ice cream-covered mouth toward your cheek.

“No! That’s gross,” you laugh and cringe away from him.

Steve licks his lips and lets you go with a chuckle. You like how easy it is with Steve. Being the gentleman Steve is, he walked you to your front door when he dropped you off at home.

“I had a great time with you,” you smile.

“Me too. I hope we can do this again.”

“I’m sure I can fit you in.”

You think Steve is going to kiss you when he leans in but he bypasses your lips and kisses your cheek. You go to bed that night with a smile on your face and your head filled with thoughts of Steve. The next day, you head out to the gym early so you can start your day refreshed and energized. There aren’t a lot of people at the gym but you’re good at tuning everything out when you’re in your workout. You start with a light walk on the treadmill to get your blood pumping before moving to the weights.

You use the weight machine where you sit down on the small bench and grab the handlebars that you’ll pull toward yourself. You’ve never used this machine before but you’re doing it now because you want to at least try something new. It might work better for you. You set the weights to the amount you can pull before sitting down. You complete one rep when you feel someone tapping on your shoulder.

You look behind you to see a gorgeous man. Tall, dark hair, a sharp jawline, bright blue eyes, muscles for days, and tattoos inked down his arms. You can tell that ink is on his torso because it disappears underneath the collar of his shirt. He waves a hand in front of his face and you snap out of the trance.

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” you ask after taking out your AirPod.

“I don’t want to be that guy or a creep but I noticed your posture when using this machine. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself. Can I give you some tips?” You open your mouth to respond and he quickly speaks again. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off. I just… I know a bit or two about gym injuries.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. What am I doing wrong?”

The man straddles the bench right behind you but stays far enough away from you so you don’t feel his skin. However, you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s enough to make your head spin.

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He puts his hands on your hips and moves slightly closer to you. The heat increases and your heart beats faster.

“You want to keep your back straight. The point of this machine is to work your arms. Pull down the handlebar.” You keep your back straight when you pull it down because you’re afraid of leaning back into his body. He cups both of your elbows as you lower your arms and stops you from going further down. “You want to keep your elbows at a ninety-degree angle. Try again.”

The man takes his hands away from your arms but lets them rest on your hips. You do it again and you can feel him nod behind you.

“Good girl.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at those two words. You’re not even sure if you heard him correctly, he spoke so softly.

“Thank you for your help.”

“No problem.” The man stands making you wish he was pressed against you still. “I’m Bucky.”

“Y/N.”

“Again, I’m not that guy or anything but are you single?”

“Yes,” you giggle.

You and Steve went on one date so you don’t count that as you two being in an exclusive relationship.

“Would you be opposed to me taking you out on a date?”

“No.”

Bucky takes out his phone and opens the phone app so you can give him your number. After you put it in, he calls you so that you have his number.

“I hope you’re free Friday night.”

“I just so happen to be free that day.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six. Wear something you don’t mind getting a bit of dirt on.”

“Okay.”

Bucky leaves your side to continue his workout but you can’t continue. All you can think about is Bucky and the feeling you got when you felt him behind you. Friday is only two days away but it feels like a week has passed before it’s finally here. You and Steve have been talking about going on another date. Yes, you told him that you had a date with another man but he didn’t seem all that worried since you two aren’t exclusive. The second you decide that you are, you’ll break it off with Bucky. The same goes for Steve if you and Bucky decide to be a thing.

It’s nearing six when you tie the pink bow into your hair. You’re wearing jeans and a frilly pink shirt, and you’ve done your hair in a half updo with a pink bow. You swipe lipgloss onto your lips when you hear the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle. You look out the window and see Bucky roll into your neighborhood on a sleek black bike. You meet him outside just as he takes off his helmet.

“Damn, I thought you were beautiful in gym clothes and all sweaty. You’re gorgeous now.”

Bucky’s wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that fit him snugly.

“Thank you,” you blush.

“Have you ever ridden a bike before?”

“Once or twice.”

“Then come here, Doll.” You walk over to Bucky and he is careful when he slides the second helmet onto your head, careful to not mess up your hair too much. He straps it into place and helps you onto the back of his bike before climbing on himself. “Hold on tight.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and sit very close to him. Even through his leather jacket, you can feel his muscles flex whenever you touch them. Bucky takes you out of town and to the old Jasper property. Jasper used to be a thriving farmer once upon a time but lost his house after he died. He didn’t have any family to leave it to so the city took possession of it. It now stands as a property kids love to explore, trash, and do whatever else they want to do with it. The city does nothing because they either don’t care or don’t have enough money to put security there.

Bucky pulls into the farm and parks next to an array of bikes. There is commotion coming from the back of the property and the sound of bikes revving their engines.

“What is going on here?” you ask Bucky when you get your helmet off.

“Dirt bike racing,” he grins. “I usually race but this time, I’m happy to watch.”

“Because of me?”

“Well, I can’t be looking like a fool in front of you if I lose,” he chuckles.

You two head to the back of the property and find seats up high to be able to see everything. The bikers slowly drive around the track to get used to it right before the race.

“I’ve never been to one of these things before.”

“Oh, Doll, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

The race begins and all the bikers start it by giving it their all. Bucky cheers his friend who is in first place, and you watch with wide eyes, scared to look away even for a second. The race consists of thirty laps around the place but it feels like they’re doing it in five. They go so fast around the curves, jump over the ramps expertly, and gain a lot of cheers whenever their favorites get closer to first place.

Bucky tries to explain the logistics of it all but you’re too enthralled to listen to him. It’s nice to do this with Bucky because you love the thrill of racing whether that be cars or bikes. Bucky stands up and cheers when his friend finishes in first followed by two of his other friends in second and third. The winner gets a cash prize put together by both the audience and the crew members responsible for the race.

“So, how was your first bike race?” Bucky asks when he walks you back to his bike.

“That was amazing! You do that sort of thing?”

“Yeah. There’s nothing like feeling nothing but the rumble of your bike on a racetrack. Everything else disappears and it feels like you’re the only one on the track. Sure, we do races for fun but the serious ones are the best.”

“I’d like to see you race sometime.”

“I can arrange that,” he grins. Bucky takes the long way back to your house to give you more time pressed up against him. Like Steve, he walks you to your front door. “Can I take you out again?”

“Yes,” you smile.

Bucky glances down to your lips and decides to just go for it. He grabs the sides of your face and pulls you in for a kiss that makes your head dizzy. He dances around the idea of using tongue, and you open your mouth to allow him in. He slides his tongue in and explores what you’ve given him before pulling away.

“I’ll talk to you later, Doll.”

“Okay,” you mutter, still in a haze from his kiss.

Bucky waits for you to get inside your house before leaving. You rest your back against your door and bite your lip in thought. You had such a great time with Steve but you also loved your time with Bucky. Two men. How will you ever decide between them? You get ready for bed and fall asleep with thoughts of Bucky and Steve.

The next morning, you’re woken up by your phone ringing. You pop your head up and reach for your phone with one eye closed and the other squinted nearly shut. Both eyes pop wide open when you see Steve’s name on your phone. You sit up in bed and smooth down your hair as if he can see what you look like over a phone call. You cough to clear your throat so it’s not so obvious that you’ve been sleeping seconds before.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you busy tonight?”

“No. What’s up?”

“My roommate is going to be out of town tonight and I was wondering for our second date, I can cook for you.”

“At your place?”

“Yeah. I totally understand if you don’t want to come over and go somewhere public, but--”

“Steve, it’s okay. I’d be happy to let you cook for me.”

“Okay, good,” he breathes in relief. “I’ll text you my address. How about you come over at six?”

“I’ll be there.”

After saying goodbye, Steve hangs up and looks at his roommate who is sitting in the living room cleaning bike parts he got from Facebook Marketplace.

“What have I told you about cleaning your shit in here?”

“To do it because you love it,” Bucky grins.

“You’re going to be out by six, right? My date is coming over then.”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

Bucky continues to clean while Steve gets ready for his date with you. Afterward, both men decide to kill time to watch whatever it is that’s on Netflix. Bucky looks at the time and sees it’s nearly six. He gets up and grabs his jacket on his way to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out, remember?”

“British Bake-Off is next,” Steve says with the remote in hand.

“I’m leaving and you have your date. It’s almost six.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Steve looks at his friend who grabs his motorcycle keys. “You don’t want to take a shower first? Wash your hair, maybe?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Bucky rolls his eyes. He opens the door right when you’re about to knock, and your eyes widen when you see it’s Bucky and not Steve at the door. “Doll?”

“Bucky? What… What are you doing here?”

Steve pops his head out from behind his friend and smiles when he sees you.

“Hey, Y/N, come in. This is my roommate, Bucky. He was just leaving.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word and opens the door wider so you can walk in. Of course, it’ll be your luck that the two best guys you’ve ever dated just so happen to be roommates. Steve isn’t freaking out so Bucky must not have talked about you or not mentioned you by name.

“You’re dating her? She’s your date?” Bucky whispers at Steve but you hear.

“Yeah, why?”

“Dude, she’s the girl I took to the bike race.”

“Wait, what?”

“Look, I didn’t know you two were roommates.” Both men look at you. “I should go, right? This is something I don’t want to come between. I don’t want to ruin your friendship and before you say anything, it will if we continue to let this happen. Yeah, I should go.”

Neither man moves from the front door so you’re stuck here while they stare at each other like in some macho standoff. They have a wordless conversation only spoken through their eyes. It feels like hours before Bucky finally speaks.

“We’re not going to make you choose but I still want to date you.”

“So do I,” Steve says right after.

“Both of you want to date me?”

Bucky shrugs and looks at his friend who has the same expression on his face.

“You wouldn’t be the first thing we’ve shared.”

“You obviously don’t have to choose right now, and if you’ll let me, I’d love to cook for you still.”

Two men? Two gorgeous men? You had such a fun time with Steve and Bucky, and if they’re willing to share you, who are you to say you can’t do the same? You’ve never done something like this before but there’s a first for everything, right?

“Fuck it. I’m in if you are.”

Bucky and Steve grin mischievously, ideas already running through their heads. This is either going to be the best thing to happen to you or the worst mistake of your life. It is sure fun to find out, though.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[steddieas-shegoes]

from garage to library

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'in the garage'

rated t | 601 words | cw: mild language | tags: they're really just trying to make it, they're all idiots

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

Jeff's tired of being the only one with a garage, and he's tired of hearing the neighbors complain, and he's tired of his parents making them rehearse at 3:30 in the afternoon.

It's the least metal time of day.

It's also the hottest time of day, and the fan blowing hot air at them may actually be more detrimental than if they didn't have anything at all.

Eddie is laying down on the concrete, shirt up to his chest and hair spread out above his head. Gareth is leaning over his drum kit, groaning every few seconds as if he's in pain. Frankie went inside ten minutes ago, face flush and shiny with sweat.

"We can't survive like this," Eddie grumbles. "It's too fuckin' hot."

"I'm not sure what other options we have." Jeff sighs as he rolls his sleeves up. He should've just worn a tank top for practice. "I'm the only one with a garage."

"If we practice right after school, we can do it at my house," Gareth offered. "There's not that much room, but it's better than dying in this garage."

"We aren't gonna die."

"Speak for yourself!" Eddie yelled from the ground, sitting up and glaring at Jeff. "I can barely feel my fingers. Do you know what guitarists need to be able to play?"

"Let's just go get some lemonade and then finish up," Jeff ignored Eddie's question.

"Fingers! They need fingers, Jeff!"

"Are you guys still out here?" Frankie said from the doorway, sipping on an ice cold Coke, looking much better than when he'd left them there to suffer.

"Yes, we're trying to have band practice. You remember our band?" Jeff was done. The heat was too much, this was too much. "But I'm calling it. We can't practice like this. Let's try again next month."

"Next month?" Eddie gasped. "We can't wait until next month to practice."

"What else do you suggest?" Jeff threw his hands up. "We have nowhere else to practice and we can't do it out here in this heat. We aren't even practicing anyway!"

"What about the library?" Gareth asked.

"The library. The place you have to be quiet. Right. Brilliant." Jeff shook his head. "Any other great ideas or is that the winner?"

"Don't be an asshole," Gareth rolled his eyes. "They close early every weekday for different clubs to meet. Their Tuesdays are open and my mom knows for a fact they've been having trouble filling it. If they can't fill it, they have to stay open later and none of them want to work the later hours. So. We'd actually be doing them a favor."

"And you think they'd just give a key to a group of teenagers in a metal band?" Eddie asks.

"I think that if it means they don't have to work past dinner time, yeah, they would."

They all stare at each other, then around at the garage, air so thick they can almost see it.

"Fine. But only until it cools down. Acoustics will be weird in there," Jeff finally says.

"Rehearsing at a fuckin' library. That'll be fun to tell Rolling Stone someday," Eddie says as he joins Frankie inside.

"Better than nothing at all," Frankie shrugs as he closes the door.

"Hopefully, they don't kick us out after one time," Jeff says as he closes the garage door and turns off the fan. They're definitely done for the day.

"If they do, we'll find somewhere else." Gareth pocketed his drum sticks. "Gotta have some bumps in the road to make our story more interesting, right?"

[urhoneycombwitch]

like a fern

foreword: this feels super vulnerable to post but maybe that’s the point!!! pls check cw before reading. obviously, non-binary+genderqueer folks existed in the 80’s, but I’m writing from the POV of a reader who does not have the language to describe their dysphoric feelings. proceed with gentleness and take care of yourself. this one’s for the queers <3

cw: AFAB reader with breasts (non-sexual mention), reader is non-binary but doesn’t have the words to self-describe as such, discussions of gender and sexuality, Eddie is also queer, love and understanding from an also-queer partner <3

wc: 1.4k

Indiana summer is in full swing, record-breaking temperatures keeping everyone indoors and away from the punishing sun.

Eddie and you are sprawled on the trailer’s twin mattress, well-used to making the small space fit you both.

He’s flopped on his back, rambling about the woes of trying to align ten different busy schedules for a night of D&D while you half-listen. An ancient box fan leans against his dresser nearby, pointed at the foot of the bed and doing its best to circulate the muggy air.

You’re stretched out on your stomach, arms curled in, hands tucked into the hollows of your shoulders. In order to maximize air flow over warm skin, you’ve stripped down to just a sports bra and cut-off denims, Eddie in similar fashion with just a pair of cotton boxers slung low on his pale hips.

He’s currently cursing capitalism and the jobs that keep his friends too busy for play, a familiar rant that’s less fiery this time around as his voice is muted with heat-sleepiness; dark curls spill around his face and shoulders, fanned out against the pillow behind his head, long lashes sweeping with each blink.

You’ve never known a boy so pretty in all your life. Didn’t even know that boys could be pretty, until you met Eddie.

As he talks, you let your eyes drop from his face to his bare chest, something like envy unfurling as you note the smoothness there, the near-concavity of the space above his ribs.

Not for the first time, you wish you were matching.

There’s a deep pit of yearning that quickly spirals into longing, whenever you think about how Eddie fits into tank tops or goes shirtless with ease- something that has recently taken shape into something less about wanting to be similar to the love of your life, and more like self-applied jealousy.

As if in psychosomatic answer, your breasts begin to squish uncomfortably from lying on your front; when you shift to change the pressure, bare arm unsticking tackily from Eddie’s, he stops mid-ramble to look down the slope of his nose at you.

“Everything okay?” He stretches a ringed pointer finger to coast over the skin of your neck, lightly and soothing. “Sorry it’s like a goddamn oven in here. If I was rich I’d build you an ice house just for sitting in.”

Your eyes flutter at his touch, smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. “Nah. S’okay. It’s not the heat.”

“Then what?” Curiosity piqued, Eddie props himself up on his elbows. The silver chain around his neck slides over his pec; he catches you staring, then gives you a wolfish grin, misinterpreting your look. “Ah. Right. Of course. Feelin’ a little hot and bothered?”

“Only because it’s hot and you’re bothering me,” you snip, squirming uncomfortably again when the band of your sports bra digs in. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. What were you saying about burning the workforce to the ground?”

Eddie’s not so easily dissuaded from the source of your discomfort. Childishly, he pokes at your cheek, emphasizing each demand- “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me or I swear to god I’ll start screaming my head off until you spill your guts and Mrs. Trainer will call the cops again and it’ll be a whole thing-”

“Christ, Eddie.” You swat his hand away, and he recedes, triumphant, boring a hole into the side of your head with expectant watching. “Ugh. Fine. It’s-”

Words tangle in a confusing jumble at the forefront of your mind, twisting and warping around each other. Your throat feels dry so you clear it, burrowing the side of your face into the pillow for comfort, brows pinching together as the simplest words of the lot spill from your tongue like a midnight confession.

“I don’t think I’m a girl.”

Your pained expression is obscured by the pillow, so Eddie’s still playful, mattress jiggling as he flops backwards again. “Not a girl, huh? So what are you… man, mollusk, or mammal?”

He quiets when he realizes you’re not laughing. “Hey...”

Since your eyes are still obscured, your sense of hearing and touch fill in the gaps- Eddie looping an arm around your waist, ends of his hair tickling your upper back as he leans in to nose at your ear- “Talk to me. Tell me again, I won’t poke fun. What’s up?”

The tightness in your chest eases some as the steady weight of his arm works as a grounding force, enough to coax part of your face and mouth out from the confines of the pillow to repeat, “I don't think I’m a girl.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds, immediate and caring, thumb stroking soft against your spine. “A boy, then?”

“No.” You mirror Eddie’s earlier movements, propping up to your own elbows, grateful when he doesn’t move his hand from you but still keeping your eyes fixed on the faded floral pattern of the pillowcase. “Not a boy. Something… in between? Or maybe neither…? I dunno yet.”

The more you try to give a name to the feeling, the faster it runs like water through a fist. You’re just about to make another bid to drop the issue when Eddie uses his free hand to snap his fingers, dark brows nearly touching his fringe in an expression of a lightbulb moment.

“Adiantum pedatum.”

This time when you frown, it’s from bewilderment. “…what?”

“Adiantum pedatum,” he says again, fingers trailing mindlessly up the length of your back while he explains. “Well, that’s the scientific name, at least- the five-fingered fern. It’s native to our region, was reading about it in one of Dustin’s nerdy plant books. They reproduce asexually, can’t be labeled as male or female ‘cuz they’re in their own category. Rad, right?”

He’s sparkling with the idea, chocolate eyes lit up the same way you’ve seen after a successful campaign or a band session that ran long with an abundance of artistic flow.

“Kinda like you,” Eddie says, softly, smiling easily up at you. “In your own category. Can’t be contained, sometimes.”

“But-” There’s still a sticky, confusing feeling attached to the idea, one that you’re trying to parse out as your fingers dig into fabric. “What if it wasn’t just some times? What if I felt like this all the time?”

“That’s cool, too,” Eddie affirms. His hand tracks a path from your lower back up to your neck, rings cool against your skin as he swipes a thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Sounds lonely to carry all by yourself, though. I’m glad you told me.”

There hasn’t been any room in your complicated introspection for excitement or joy, thus far, but the way Eddie’s talking about it causes a wave of tension release, of gratefulness, overwhelm in the form of tears pricking at your eyes. “And you don’t think it’s… weird? Like, it doesn’t freak you out knowing I feel this way?”

“Psh.” He rolls his eyes, dismissive, humor leaking back in. “Freak me out? Me? Did you get heatstroke and forget who you’re talkin’ to? I wear your underwear for fun. You call me beautiful and it turns me on. I’m no stranger to the Weird and Devious.”

“Fair point,” you muse, forehead dropping like a magnet to press into Eddie’s shoulder. He wraps you in a brief, sweaty squeeze of a hug before dropping it to let the fan air breeze over the both of you once more.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like one of my girly nicknames for you, right?�� Eddie asks, contemplative but already returning to that faded, sleepy tone. “Angel and princess and sweetie. That kind of stuff. I’ll have to get more creative but it’s worth it for you.”

“Don’t ever stop calling me angel,” you whisper, breath hushing warm against the curve of his shoulder as you settle into the solid security of his body. “Think I might wilt like a five-fingered plant.”

The width of his palm spans the back of your head as he pets you with the last bit of pre-nap energy he can muster.

“You’re hot like a fern,” he murmurs, with tender finality. “Pretty like the forest.”

[allwaswell16]

A One Direction fic rec of fics that involve football (soccer) as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

⚽ Learning to Breathe by youcomecrash

(E, 110k, uni) He’s playing football at one of the top universities in England and he should love everything about his life right now, but instead he’s moving backwards

⚽ Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by @1diamondinthesun

(NR, 84k, high school) the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.

⚽ Bring Your Body Baby (I Could Bring You Fame) by @theboyfriendstagram

(E, 84k, famous/not famous) A self-indulgent AU that takes place over the summer of 2015. 18 year old Harry hates pining after people he can't have, and 23 year old footballer Louis loves flirting with people even though it never means anything.

⚽ Way in the World by flowsque / @mortediunfiore

(M, 74k, both players) the one where Harry has a knee injury and an embarrassing crush on Manchester United's pretty number ten.

⚽ Caught In Your Gravity by @lululawrence

(NR, 62k, Ted Lasso au) an AU inspired by a 30 second trailer of Ted Lasso that doesn't actually have much in common with the show at all.

⚽ so grab your passport and my hand by @infinitelymint

(M, 32k, strangers to lovers) The one in which Louis plays football and Harry sings a lot, and somehow that means they're meant to be. They'll figure it out soon enough.

⚽ Higher, Further, Faster by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(E, 31k, uni) the one where Harry decides to go to college regardless of what his team warns him about and has to face the consequences, some of which aren’t so terrible after all.

⚽ Dive (series) by @allwaswell16

(E, 21k, famous/famous) Newly retired football star, Louis Tomlinson has left Manchester for Malibu. Along the way, he finds music, friendship, and love in the form of his pop star neighbour and the very fit movie star hiding out next door.

⚽ Hold My Breath by @zarah5

(M, 19k, injury) It's possible — possible — that his three-week ban from the football pitch makes Louis just a tad antsy. Surely it's not so bad that it warrants punishment in the form of his friends signing him up for a yoga class?

⚽ time slows down whenever you're around by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze

(E, 14k, flower shop) Louis plays "soccer" and falls for the wrong boy and Harry works in a flower shop and falls for Louis — again.

⚽ burn this flame by rainbowninja167 / @rainbowtitania

(E, 13k, famous/famous) When Harry gets invited to play in a celebrity charity match with Louis Tomlinson, Manchester United's star player, he's determined to impress him with brilliant football skills. The only flaw in Harry's otherwise foolproof plan? He has absolutely no football skills, brilliant or otherwise.

⚽ Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic

(E, 12k, neighbors) Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

⚽ Want you more than a melody by @softfonds

(E, 12k, mpreg) It's 2016, and Harry's life couldn't be better. His band is about to release their third studio album, he's dating the hottest football star on the planet, and tour is going to start the following year.

⚽ Just One Touch by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 11k, Dr Harry) When footballer Louis Tomlinson needs to get match fit in a hurry, team doctor and best mate Niall Horan prescribes an unusual form of treatment.

⚽ Down the Field by @creamcoffeelou

(M, 9k, coach Louis) Louis, a pro football player of Chelsea, is forced to retire after a severe injury to his foot.

⚽ every day and tomorrow night by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 8k, high school) Harry stares. The new boy is beautiful, there’s no other word for him. 

⚽ Eat Your Vegetables by @bananaheathen

(M, 8k, famous/not famous) In which Louis is a celebrity footballer and Harry is the new team nutritionist.

⚽ Glass Heart by @musketrois

(G, 7k, coming out) “26-year-old West Ham footballer Louis Tomlinson was seen getting acquainted with 24-year-old pop sensation Harry Styles and others. Although it is not unordinary for these two professions to be social, we can’t wait to see what this budding relationship will bring to London’s social scene.” -Celebrity Blurb 25 March, 2017

⚽ Down To Be a Distraction by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 6k, famous/famous) The English national team is on the brink of winning the UEFA final and it all hinges on a penalty kick from team captain and national hero Louis Tomlinson, who was forcibly outed in the press right before the tournament. 

⚽ Game Changer by @neondiamond

(E, 6k, mpreg) A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

⚽ The Air From My Lungs by Kikiberoski16 / @larrysballetslippers

(E, 5k, uni) Harry doesn't like to take showers in public for reasons he isn't willing to share, until Louis, the hot football captain, rocks his whole world.

⚽ the stars are coming home by lsforever / @kingonafiftymetreroad

(G, 5k, established relationship) After three years together and nearly a full year of marriage, Harry has finally been permitted to sit in for one of the team’s practices. 

⚽ every night with us (is like a dream) by moon_rose25 / @darkinfinity

(T, 2k, established relationship) A look into the life of a professional football player dating a physical therapist.

⚽ 2,870 Miles by @sadaveniren

(G, 1k, mpreg) Harry hated the BT Sports commentators, but considering he couldn’t fly to Baku while eight months pregnant this was all he had if he wanted to watch his husband in the Europa League final.

—Rare Pairs—

⚽ love and kickin'!verse by camiii

(E, 140k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) the fic where Nick has no interest in football but is dragged to a football match, Louis is the Arsenal player that catches his attention, and maybe there are some redeeming qualities to the game after all.

⚽ Devoted by @nouies

(E, 5k, Louis/Alisson Becker) A collection of drabbles about Louis’ life as the housewife of a professional football player.

[heyitsme1040]

Comfort the Pain Away [p.p]

summary : Your period was never a pleasant week to deal with. You were grateful to Peter, always happily being by your side more than usual wherever it came. He made sure to think of everything when he came over after a patrol. Your evenings together often consisted of being cuddled up together watching TV and just talking. 

pairings : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

warnings : Mentions of cramps (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 700

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day eleven of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘comfort show/movie’. As a science nerd I think The Big Band Theory is an easy go-to show. It may not be my number one comfort show, but it is definitely in the top ten for me. 

You groaned as another intense cramp racked through you. Readjusting your heating pad, sinking deeper under your blankets with a sigh as the heat slowly eased your pain. Pulling the blanket higher around you, you wait for Peter to stop by. It was only the first day of your period, but you wanted the comfort your boyfriend brought. Knowing his patrol just started, you turn on the TV to distract you from the steady ache in your abdomen. Not wanting something you’d have to pay much attention to, you put on The Big Bang Theory. It was a funny, surprisingly scientifically accurate, easy to watch show. Honestly, you were surprised that Peter hadn’t seen it before the two of you got together. 

As the episodes went by, your heating pad had quickly stopped being hot and your cramps had picked up in intensity. Not knowing how else to help them be less intense, you tried to find a position that was comfortable to lay in. You’d curled yourself around a pillow, and tried to figure out how much longer until you could take more Pamprin. You heard the window to your bedroom open as Peter tripped on his way into the room. You laughed  at Peter’s clumsy nature before quickly groaning at the wave of pain it caused. 

Peter got up from where he was sprawled on the ground before pulling his mask off, “Hi bug, how’re you doing?” 

“This sucks,” you groan.

“I’m sorry,” Peter works on removing his suit. “What can I do to help?”

“Would you mind reheating this? Then we can cuddle.”

Peter tied his sleep pants and began pulling a shirt over his head, “I’d be happy to. Do you want a bottle of water too? When was the last time you took medicine?”

“Please, and I can take another dose in like thirty minutes.”

Peter bent over to kiss you before stepping out of the room. You smiled, curious how you found such a caring boyfriend. You heard the fridge open then close as you watched the TV. Peter’s footsteps echoed through the apartment as he walked back to your shared room. Peter returned with the bottle of water and freshly warmed heating pad. Handing you the heat pad, Peter walked around the bed to lay beside you. 

He pulled you into his side as he laid atop the covers. He rolled you over slightly to press his chest against your back, reaching a hand around you to hold your heat pad in place. 

“What time is it?” You asked, having lost track of time waiting for him to get home. 

“It’s a little past nine,” Peter checked his phone.

“You’re home early.”

“My phone notified me that your period started today.”

“What?”

You felt Peter shrug at your shocked reaction. “I downloaded the same app you use to track it. I don’t like when you’re in pain, so I like to know when you’re on your period. That way I can make sure to be home sooner in case you need me.”

“That’s sweet,” you teared up. “Sorry, I don’t know why that’s making me emotional.” 

“Technically, it’s due to a higher level of hormones. The heightened level of estrogen can make someone more persuaded by their emotional state.”

“Babe,” you laugh, “you’re doing the thing again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“No! It’s cute, I love it. I just also love that you have no idea when you’re doing it.”

Peter buried his head against your shoulder. You felt his arm tighten around you. 

“What season are we on now?” Peter tried to change the subject. 

“It’s the one where Amy and Sheldon become official, and Howard becomes an astronaut,” you explain. 

Peter hums in acknowledgement. You take a deep breath, enjoying the simple evening together. You could never get enough of Peter’s attention, loving when he just held you. The two of you settled in for the night, watching TV until you fell asleep. The discomfort and pain of your period ebbed away. The last thing you were aware of before falling into a peaceful sleep was Peter kissing your temple and telling you he loved you. 

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Cryptid Biology Season 2: Jersey Devil

[Previous entry: Here. Omega needs a break. Writing sex as a comedy of errors and nothing more. Cockblocked by an irrigation system.] Below the cut.

Omega would like to say that he's been living it up since his retirement, that he's been lazing about the abbey like an aged tomcat, coming and going as he pleases, but very rarely is that the case... especially not when the band is home from touring.

Injuries and illnesses seem to crop up like daisies in spring these days, and the quintessence ghoul finds his presence needed in the medical wing more often than not, due to both his seniority among the staff, and his talents as a healer.

He doesn't hate his job by any stretch of the imagination, but it can be quite draining, and he often finds himself in need of a little tender loving care...

Unfortunately, it has been kind of difficult to get laid given most of the people hitting on him are his patients.

A demon he may be, but Omega is a consummate professional and takes his oath as a physician very seriously, and part of said oath is -albeit not in these exact words- not to fuck the people under your care.

Of course, one might debate the merits and morals of keeping such a vow outside of office hours...

After all, there are no rules in regards to what he gets up to outside of the infirmary, just that he maintain the decorum expected of his station within the church... But keeping up appearances be damned, Omega needs some fucking ass already.

It feels unnatural for him to have gone for so long without getting laid, he's so pent up he thinks he might go feral if this goes on any longer, and jacking off after work just isn't cutting it these days.

Back when he was in the band himself, it wasn't hard to find a willing body to get his rocks off with, but now everyone looks at him like he's some unobtainable hardass who only exists to tell them to eat right and to stop fucking fruit -Aeon- ...but he's not!

He's perfectly obtainable!

He's always ready to fuck, he's got a fucking PhD in fucking, he's a certified whore!

And people these days just don't respect that!

Where's Alpha to grab him by the throat and show him who's boss before he flips the script and fucks him raw?

When is Mist gonna pop out of the woodworks and peg him until he cries??

Honestly, even Special is looking like a snack now, but he knows better than to get anywhere near the odd ghoul when his even stranger partner, Cowbell, is lurking about.

What he needs someone he doesn't have history with, someone who's willing to let him go deep and-

"I'll bite." a slightly raspy voice offers from behind, making him jump.

A small woman in board shorts and a red tank top with "Jersey Devils" plastered across the chest peers up at him, gesturing with an open can of ginger ale she has clasped in her right hand, "Could be a little tit for tat; You want sex, I wanna see your dick."

Omega is stunned.

"You... What?"

The woman shrugs, sipping her drink.

"You're the one out here muttering about needing to get laid, and I've got nothing better to do." she says, "So unless your standards have jumped way up in the last ten seconds -which if they have, fuck you- you can either take it or leave it. The offer expires when I finish my soda, so you gotta act quickly."

"...I... Who are you?" he flusters, "I was saying that out loud??"

"I didn't ask for your name, so you don't need mine either." she hums, swirling her drink, "I think I have about two more sips-"

"Okay, okay- Fuck..." Omega pinches the bridge of his nose, fuck him and his desperation, "I... Yeah, yeah, let's... Let's do this."

"Fantastic."

"Where-" he starts to ask, and the woman simply grabs his hand.

"I know a place, come on."

...As it would turn out, the "place" the woman had in mind was the abbey's hedge maze.

"It takes most people an hour to get to the center, but I'll show you a secret." she says, moving along the far side of the maze's outer wall, "See that rock there?"

She gestures to a large, pillar of stone.

"Watch this."

With a startling ease, she picks up the rock and sets it off to the side.

"Before you act too amazed, heh, 'a-mazed'..." she shakes her head at her own joke, and then knocks on the stone, which makes a hollow thumping sound, "About two thirds of the rocks in this maze aren't real, otherwise the upkeep would be a real bitch..."

"How did you-"

She shushes him.

"I will not be taking questions at this time." she says, tugging him into the maze and sliding the rock back into position, "If we follow this trail, we'll be in the middle in five minutes."

Omega blinks, unsure of what to do with this new information, but follows her regardless.

Sure enough, they make it to the middle in roughly six minutes -the slight delay being the result of the woman pausing to pluck some leaves off of one of the hedges, because they were, "Uneven." and stuffing them into her pockets- and, honestly, Omega isn't sure what's in store for him now that they've arrived, because he certainly wasn't expecting this.

"Alright, looks like the coast is clear-" she announces, beginning to take off her shirt, which, although Omega knew this was coming, still makes him startle a bit, unprepared to see tits so soon.

...He gets over this initial shock quickly, and begins undressing himself when he sees how quickly the shorts come off, revealing light blue panties that seem ever so slightly too small...

"So why here?" he asks as she leads him over to the grass, "Not that I'm complaining, it's just... an interesting choice."

"It's private," she says, laying herself down on the lawn, she seems oddly relaxed, "but anyone could find us at any minute, and I've learned that's something I like."

Omega kicks off his pants.

"I see..." he hums, "What else do you like?"

"Men who don't ask so many questions." she teases as he kneels between her thighs, "Come on then, take what you want."

And he does.

He plays with her, all of her, from her mouth on down to her thighs, he runs his fingers over every sensitive part he can find, watching as the cotton grows a shade darker with every swipe of his skilled across the fabric.

He presses a kiss to the moles on her inner thigh and leaves bite marks in places he knows must elicit pain and pleasure in the same motion, and he keeps going until-

"...Let me see it."

Omega is just about to take himself out of his boxers when he hears a gasp-

"I'M SO SORRY!" a sister of sin squeals, reeling back in horror along with her friends, who all shriek and run off at the sight before them.

He wants to yell something back, but instead he looks back at the woman beneath him, who gives him a look that's less ashamed and more...

"Come on, big fella, I said I want to see it."

Fuck.

"You really want to continue-"

She hooks her legs around his waist, pulling him down, "I said what I said. Don't make me repeat myself."

Welp.

Decidedly unperturbed, Omega reaches down to slip her panties down to about mid thigh, pushing her legs back away from him to remove them the rest of the way, and proceeds to finish taking his dick out.

"For the record, I'm a grower, not a shower..."

The woman looks down, staring at his cock.

"Purple." she says with a giggle, "Nice."

Omega blushes, a bit embarrassed.

"It's cute."

He groans, ears flicking backwards.

"It doesn't have plates or scales, so that's a bonus... and it's not a tentacle..." she sighs, then slips her hand down to part her folds, "Let's see what surprises you have in store."

Plates... scales... tentacles...

Okay, so she's been with a ghoul before.

A couple ghouls from the sounds of it.

That makes her reaction a bit less...

It bothers him less knowing that somehow.

"No tentacles or fancy plates, but I do have a little trick up my sleeve I think you might like-"

.

.

.

Bea limps into her four o'clock staff meeting, soaking wet, and wobblier than a newborn deer, a sight which Mountain commits to memory as she drops down in the seat beside him.

She smells like sweat, freshly cut grass, and a subtler scent he recognizes as one of his fellow ghouls, but not one of his current bandmates.

"Did you fall in one of the fountains on your way here?" he whispers, nudging her with his elbow.

"Did you set the timer on the sprinklers this morning?" she asks, ignoring his question.

"I did, why?"

Bea inhales deeply.

"I got wet in two ways because of you, today, expect my revenge to be swift and completely disproportionate."

"Huh?"

[bellaturner]

Perfect Sense

Not proof read, please let me know if there are any errors

Summary: you are pregnant with Alex's baby.

No warnings (there is the use of the words whore and gold digger once, and the mention of a 10 years age gap tho)

Basically fluff ✨

900 words

Masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were 30 weeks pregnant when you decided it was time to share the news with the world. Of course, close friends and family already knew, but the general public was unaware. Whenever you went out, you always wore baggy shirts and tight high-waisted pants to conceal your growing belly and shield your little girl from the prying eyes of paparazzi. However, with only 10 weeks to go, it was becoming increasingly challenging to hide your pregnancy.

To make matters worse, the guys were in the midst of a world tour, and the gossip magazines had their focus on the Arctic Monkeys' members and their significant others. Your engagement to Alex had already provided them with plenty to gossip about when it was announced last year.

They feasted on it, relishing in highlighting the ten-year age gap between you and Alex, and making derogatory remarks, calling you a whore and a gold digger. It was tough initially, but you had learned to cope. Most of the fans supported you anyways, and you always had the guys standing up for you.

So, the day before the gig in Sheffield, you decided to have a conversation with your fiancé.

"Al, baby, I'm tired of hiding my belly," you said softly while cuddling with him in bed, resting your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. It was one of those lazy nights when you both stayed at home, watching movies. "Chloe will be here soon, and we haven't announced it yet."

His free hand moved to the base of your stomach, gently caressing it and eliciting kicks from your daughter. "Oh, hi there, love," Al chuckled. "Don't kick your mum like that," he scolded playfully.

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt me," you laughed, placing your hand on top of his. You knew Chloe would be a daddy's girl; she already adored him so much. Whenever you played his music, she would celebrate with a tiny dance inside you, and when he returned home from work, she would kick until he came over and spoke to her.

"Do you think we should go public, princess?" he interrupted your little daydream.

"I do, baby," you replied.

"Then we'll do it tomorrow," he said with a mischievous grin. "But in a special way."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see, doll," he whispered. "Now let's finish watching this and get some sleep. I have to be up early tomorrow for the final rehearsal," he added, nuzzling your hair.

You adored those moments, when he buried his nose in your hair. His big nose and how he sometimes used it to bring you pleasure were just some of the things you loved about him. In your eyes, everything about this man was perfect. That's why he was yours, and you reveled in displaying your love, even when the media labeled you a gold digger. You were deeply in love with him, and nothing else mattered.

"I love you, Alex" you said placing kisses all over his chest.

"I love you too, darling," he replied, his voice sounding sleepy.

The following day was filled with anticipation. Alex got up early and left for the venue, and you joined him and the rest of the band for lunch. You wore a loose shirt, finally relieved to ditch the pants you despised. During the afternoon, you decided to read a book in the band's private room while the guys joked around and played music.

"You're glowing, babe," Alex said with a smile.

"I'm just so happy that we're finally going public with the pregnancy," you replied. "And curious about how we're gonna do it," you teased, but he remained silent.

He was about to say something when a voice called them over, announcing that they would be on stage in five minutes.

"I have to go, doll," he kissed your lips and joined the rest of the band at the side of the stage.

You watched them perform from the backstage area, reveling in the experience. Seeing them live always brought you immense joy. Around the fourth song, you noticed a change in the setlist, making you even more excited.

It was during the last song before the encore when Alex began to speak, causing the crowd to erupt in cheers.

"I don't usually do this, but since we're back to where it all began, I want to dedicate the next song to someone special," he said, searching for your eyes on the side of the stage.

The cameras quickly captured your face as you locked eyes with Alex and blew him a kiss.

"This next one is for my amazing wife and the mother of my child," he declared, and the crowd erupted in a frenzy, mirroring your own emotions.

You hadn't expected this. But as the realization sunk in, tears of joy welled up in your eyes. Not only had he referred to you as his wife in front of thousands of people, but he also announced your pregnancy, allowing you to proudly showcase your baby bump to the world.

The band proceeded to play "Perfect Sense," and at the end of the song, Alex sprinted over to you, passionately kissing you while whispering, "I love you, princess," and of course Chloe kicked until he kissed your bump as well.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT'S BEEN A WHILE BUT I'M BACK!

I've been trying to write something for almost a month, but I'm stuck at it, so I decided to write this short little story to kinda reset my mind, if that makes any sense.

Hope you guys enjoy this one ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁱ ᵗʰʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ I really liked writing it.

OH, I almost forgot, this is a suuuper old request by @dietmtndew777, I hope you like it, babe 💕 (and sorry for taking forever to write it)

Anywayyyys, love yall 💕

~ Bella

[dualityvn]

I dunno if anyone asked this, but could you please write a drabble for UT!Tenebris x MC?

A Milkshake and A Night Under The Stars (UT!Tenebris x GN!Reader)

This was slightly inspired by valentinax3's ask about making a deal with Tenebris. Enjoy!

× × ×

"What is this one?"

"It's a chocolate milkshake. You drink it through this straw. The little tube poking out at the top," you explain to the creature eyeing the cup in your hand. "Wanna try it?"

As one arm reaches out, it morphs into a human one so it can easily grab the treat you've brought him. He hesitates as he brings it to his face and leans in to sniff it. He must not find anything suspicious because quickly after, he sips from the straw.

"Do you like it?"

The many eyes light up with delight. You've seen them do that every time you presented him with a new type of sweet treat. Each time, you find it very cute. Something so big and scary is obsessed with sweets.

"It's good. Very sweet, just like the rest. But I'm beginning to discern between them... What will we do in exchange for it?"

Some time ago, you'd made a deal with "the monster in the forest." You'd bring him the sweets he'd grown so fond of and in exchange, he'd let you get to know him. It was a deal that had perplexed him at first. He couldn't see why you'd want such a thing. Yet he'd accepted nonetheless.

"Since it's nighttime and the sky is clear, I was thinking we could stargaze."

"Very well. I appreciate that this one does not involve other humans."

He brings the straw back to his mouth. You watch the contents of the cup being drained at an impressive speed. Within mere seconds, it's empty. He hands it back to you and you store it away in your backpack.

"I mean, I was thinking we could do it from the top of one of the buildings in the city. The forest is kinda dense for it," you explain.

Half a dozen eyes narrow at you. "No. There is a large clearing deeper in. We're going there, where it is quiet and dark. Your loud vehicles and blinding lights would no longer bother us."

Under different circumstances, going deep into the forest with a monster would be a terrible idea. But if he wanted to harm you, he would've done it many times by now. So you take the risk.

"Okay, fair enough. How do we get there?"

He turns his back to you, then crouches down. "It will be too slow if I let you walk. Get on my back."

You pause, caught by surprise. He's never allowed you to touch him this much before. When you'd tried, he'd move away or snarl at you. Still, you aren't about to refuse the offer. You climb on and wrap your arms around his neck.

His skin is cold, but his hair feels soft as it brushes against your cheek. He smells like grass and honey. The lizard tail and his hunched position help keep you in place once he takes off.

You now see why he suggested you'd be slow. It wasn't an insult, it was a fact when you compared it to the speed he was running at. He wasn't only fast. He was also agile. You never once got smacked by any branches or bushes.

"Am I heavy?" you ask.

"Heavy? You come nowhere close to it. Not to me, at least."

You're not sure if even ten minutes have passed before he comes to a stop and lowers himself again to put you down.

The clearing he spoke of is indeed big. The stars are much more beautiful here, compared to the city. They look like glitter spread over dark fabric. You can't help but smile looking at it.

"You're right. This is much better."

He huffs as he plops down onto the grass with a loud thud. "Of course I am."

You suppress a chuckle and join him.

You'd noticed earlier, but now you have time to inspect him properly. He's dressed up. An intricate necklace resembling golden branches with precious stones instead of fruits hangs over his chest. A similar golden arm band matches one around his tail. And he's wearing pants. Something he didn't do the first time you'd met him in this form. He'd kept in mind you weren't a fan of complete nudity.

Three eyes shift to look at you questioningly. "I thought we came here to look at stars. Why are you staring at me?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking you look nice."

The eyes widen, then quickly look away. You get the impression he's flustered.

"Shouldn't this form frighten you? Why do you always ask me to stick to it instead of the human ones?"

"I like it. And you said the human form takes effort to maintain. I want you to be comfortable," you respond.

He only lets out a grunt and reverts his attention to the sky. You do the same.

You don't know a lot about stars. He does. So you ask a lot of questions. He answers each one without complaint. And when you both lay on your backs to get a better view and you scooch a little closer until your shoulders touch, he doesn't push you away.

It's pleasant. You feel oddly at peace. His voice is deep but soothing. Accompanied by the sounds of crickets and frogs, it begins to lull you to sleep. Your eyelids become heavy. As they close and you drift off to a land of dreams, you feel something brushing away a few strands of hair from your face.

[iriel3000]

Hurry, She Needs You

Summary: Natasha becomes ill from what they think is food poisoning. Tony and Bruce try to care for her until Clint arrives home from a deep cover mission. Part 1 of 6

Whumptober Day 1: Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Natasha whump, light whump, eventual happy ending

“OK, I made my speech. I'm ready to leave." Tony Stark loosened his silk, Ferragamo tie and unbuttoned the top of his white dress shirt.

"Photo op with the Board of Directors and then we can go." His sultry companion tossed her long red hair over her shoulder, surveying the room.

New York’s finest came out for the city’s annual Public Works Charity Auction. Natasha had agreed to accompany Tony while Pepper was at the Clean Energy Conference in Chicago.

"Really?" He asked, eyes lighting up. "Pepper always makes me stay and schmoose."

"Do you want me to act like your wife tonight?" Natasha arched an eyebrow and toyed with her empty rocks glass.

"That's a loaded question, Agent Romanov." He smirked and signaled for another drink.

“If anything,” Tony lowered his voice, “I need you to use your skills on Aldrich Killian. There are whispers he’s experimenting with biologicals and I want to know what he’s up to.”

“Maybe the next party. I’m tasked to only one crazy billionaire tonight.”

"Aren't I the lucky one?” Stark raked his eyes over her elegant figure.

Natasha wore a simple yet sexy little black dress with a diamond necklace, earrings and a plain black band on her right ring finger. He joked that the ring had a hidden needle full of poison inside.

“Aldrich couldn’t handle you in that dress tonight, anyway.” That got a smirk out of her. “Speaking of simps, where’s Barton?”

Her face softened, becoming almost wistful.

“Too far.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Stark.” A waiter interrupted and held out a short glass with clear liquid, another sat on a small tray. “Compliments of Mr. Killian.”

Tony looked across the room at Aldrich then turned away from his top competitor and rolled his eyes.

Natasha accepted both, thanked the young man and downed the first drink in one gulp. She held up the second and toasted to Killian in thanks.

“He doesn’t look pleased that I drank his expensive liquor.”

“I'm sure he wanted to see me choke on it.”

“Bitter finish,” she scrunched her nose, “I did you a favor.”

The host of the evening announced a silent auction would begin in ten minutes.

“Romanov, get us out of here.”

“Follow me.” Natasha stood but quickly put a hand to her forehead.

“You okay?” Tony jumped to her side when she swooned and grabbed for the edge of the table.

Tony laced his arm through hers. She giggled.

“Wait. Are you drunk?”

"No.” Natasha yanked her arm free, wobbling a little as she did so.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" He’d seen Natasha drink way more than tonight but never slur or stumble.

"Funny. Do you want to leave? Or do you want me to announce that the after party is at your house?” She turned towards the podium.

“No, no.” He stopped her. “No more jokes. Get us out of here.”

On the ride home, Natasha was quiet. Tony kept from commenting on the fine sheen of sweat glistening over her face and neck or how she kept her eyes closed, making little noises with every turn of the car.

He had his own private entrance to his penthouse but offered to ride up with Nat.

“I’m fine.” She clipped and fumbled into the elevator.

Tony hovered until the number to her floor stopped and started back down. The doors opened.

The empty compartment should have made him feel better, but it didn't.

Stark wandered down to his basement lab and poured a scotch, contemplating on how to check on his favorite bodyguard without her knowing he was checking on her.

Hey. he texted. Does William Tell know we went on a date?

Waiting for a reply, Tony flipped on the news and opened his new software system, an advanced A. I. program he’d been working on for the Tower.

Glancing at his phone, he frowned. No response yet. He tried again.

Breakfast in the morning? Happy wants to go over the new security install with you.

His knee bounced impatiently waiting for a response.

At the five minute mark, Tony called for Jarvis.

“Jarvis, security override, Stark616. What is the status of Agent Romanov?”

“Agent Romanov’s heart rate and blood pressure are abnormal. Vitals indicate she is unconscious, sir.”

Tony raced to the elevator.

“Agent Romanov is in Agent Barton’s quarters, the master bathroom.”

Tony would’ve enjoyed that little piece of information any other time, right now, he needed to know Nat was okay.

Rushing through Clint’s apartment, Tony burst into the bathroom.

“Oh my God, Natasha.” She was unconscious on the floor. “Nat, wake up! Jarvis, call Bruce!”

tbc...entire story will be posted below after part 6

Hurry, She Needs You

[svechnikovvv]

hospital trips

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: there shouldn’t be any

summary: quinn stays and comforts you during your hospital trip

a/n: this is for @astars-things <3

masterlist: here

i woke up in the middle of the night, due to the sharp pain in my chest and this awful cough i had. my chest felt like it was on fire, and the pain was only worsening. i weakly shake quinn to wake him up.

“yes?” he croaks out, turning to face me. i’m sitting up on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

“quinn, i don’t feel good.” this causes him to sit up

“cmere,” i scoot closer to him and he places the back of his hand to my forehead.

“you’re burning up.” another pain shoots through my chest and i grip the blanket covering us.

“what? what happened?” quinn asks, voice laced with worry.

“chest. feels like someone is stabbing me and twisting the knife.” he gets up out of bed and walks over to my side, grabbing my hand and helping me up and out of the bed.

“let’s get you to a hospital.” quinn and i head to the car and he speeds down the road. i place my hand on his leg and this makes him look at me.

“relax, q. you’re more worried than i am and i’m the one in pain.” he nods and slows down his speed a bit and soon, we’re arriving in front of the hospital. he finds a parking space and we make our way inside.

“what’s the name?”

“y/n l/n,” i tell the nurse and she clicks and types and then she makes me sit in a chair so they can check my vitals. they stick a thermometer in my mouth and when it beeps, the nurse takes it out and looks at it.

“she’s got a fever. 101.2” oh great. just what i needed. i then let out a nasty cough, making the pain in my chest tighter. once the nurse checked me some more, i went to sit with quinn in the lobby.

“are you cold? i’m freezing.” i was shaking slightly and he takes off his canucks hoodie and gives it to me. i don’t hesitate in taking it and slipping it over myself. i look down at the white bracelet on my wrist.

“i always like the little bracelets they give you,” i told quinn, toying with the band.

“why’s that?” he rubs my knee gently, in a soothing manner and pulls me closer to him.

“makes me feel like i’m on house arrest, but make it sick.” he laughs and kisses the top of my head.

“you never cease to amaze me. even when you’re sick”

“every time i get sick, i’m either a baby, or i become delirious. i think it’s the latter this time.”

“possibly.” ten minutes later, they’re calling me back to do an ekg since i was having chest pains.

“i’m going to need you to take your hoodie off so we can put these stickers on you.” the nurse says and i nod, slipping off quinn’s hoodie.

“that a boyfriend’s hoodie?” i nod and she smiles

“how long have you two been together?”

“two years,” i answer without hesitation.

“i remember when i met my husband. god, he pissed me off when i first met him.” i laugh and she starts to put the stickers on me.

“how’d you two meet?”

“he was the class clown and wouldn’t leave me alone. so i told him to shove his awful jokes up where the sun doesn’t shine and i received detention. and then he came to ‘bail me out.’” she has nothing but a look of adoration in her eyes as she talks about him.

“how’d you and your boyfriend meet?” she asks me and it’s my turn to have that same look in my eyes.

“i was at this karaoke bar and he was drunk and was belching his lungs out to baby by justin beiber and all of a sudden, he went green in the face and kinda threw up on my shoes.” she makes a face and puts the last sticker on me.

“that’s definitely an interesting story.”

“oh for sure.” her and i continue to converse and when she’s done doing the ekg, i go back to the lobby to sit with quinn, the canucks hoodie back on.

“was talking about you to the nurse.” his brows raise

“oh yeah?” i nod

“told her how we first met.” he cringes and i laugh, which sends me into a coughing fit. once i calmed down, i looked at quinn.

“she thought it was interesting.”

“i’m sure she did.” i let out a yawn and lean my head against quinn’s shoulder. close my eyes and start to drift off. next thing you know, i’m woken up by quinn gently shaking me.

“hey sleepyhead. they called you back.” i squint my eyes due to the harsh fluorescent lighting and i get up, quinn and i following the nurse taking us to our room. she does a quick run down and tells me that the ekg results show that my heart is fine.

she then tells me that due to what i’ve been telling her about my chest, i’ll need a chest x-ray. so she leads me down a hallway, taking different turns and we’re soon at the radiology room. another lady is there waiting to take my x-ray, and i stand where she tells me. when she’s done, she takes me back to my room.

i’m sitting on the hospital bed, watching whatever’s on the tv when quinn lets out a yawn.

“you tired?” he nods and i scoot over, patting the spot beside me. he sits beside me and makes himself comfortable, pulling me close to him. i rest my head on his chest and his arms are wrapped around me securely.

quinn and i both fall asleep and are woken up by the doctor.

“nice to have you both back with us.” he laughs and checks his clipboard. “looks like you have pneumonia. to help with the chest pain, we do have a little pain-reliever mocktail for you.” he hands me a little paper cup with some liquid medicine in it and i raise it.

“cheers,” i say, downing the concoction. quinn and the doctor both laugh and when the cup’s empty, i toss it in the trash can beside the bed.

“we will, however, have to put you on an oxygen mask for a few to help with your breathing.” i nod and the doctor leaves the room and it’s just quinn and i again.

“what time is it?” i ask him and he pulls out his phone and ‘5:45’ shines across the screen.

“shit, you have your morning skate in thirty minutes.” quinn places a hand on my knee.

“baby, i’m not worried about it. you have pneumonia. what do you think is more important?” i shrug and he rolls his eyes, peppering my face with kisses.

“it’s you, idiot. i would miss every practice i had to if it meant it was for you. i’m going to be with you until you get discharged, yeah?” i nod and cuddle up closer to him. soon, the doctor returns and he has some oxygen thing that reminds me of when i was on a nebulizer as a kid. he also has in hand, a warm blanket.

“for the two of you.” he hands it to us and i thank him as quinn unfolds the blanket, draping it over the two of us. then, they put the oxygen mask on me and i feel like i’m darth vader.

“luke, i am your father.” both quinn and the doctor laugh. the doctor then leaves the room again and i keep the mask on until he comes back and tells me i can take it off.

“okay, im prescribing you some antibiotics to help so it doesn’t get worse and become severe. but other than that, you are good to go.” we say goodbye and head out the hospital. the sun is just starting to rise and i grab my phone out my pocket, snapping a couple pictures.

when quinn and i arrive back home, we head straight to the bedroom and pass out.

“this is so much more comfortable than the hospital bed,” he mumbles, face against a pillow.

“you can say that again.”

tags: @goldenbrokenheart @woodruff-edwards @marsthehockeywhore @panarin10 @hughesx3 @jayda12 @theywantedplayer @austinbutlerscaresme @jackhues @jackhughesily @babydollmarauders @equallyshaw @astars-things @akengii

a/n: more q fluff <3

[28dayslater]

good evening to you all and welcome to cockmojo where tonight we will be counting down my personal top ten terror cocks

those unaffiliated with footyblr may be unfamiliar with the term cock as it’s being used here: all will become clear in time

special mention before we start to the netsilik hunter (sexy man, deserved a name and some screentime) james clark ross but only in the first episode when he’s all rugged and his beard’s grown out, and mr blanky, who, much like knife dad, fuccs like a broken train but he runs on time if you know what i mean

in a very respectable tenth place finish, billy gibson. i didn’t see the vision until 1. it was pointed out to me that he looks a lot like pau torres, who is himself very cockable, and 2. i rewatched the scene where he breaks up with hickey. known shagger, massive hater, a very pointy nose, he’s scraped a place on this list.

a surprise entry at ninth is john irving. inarguably cute in a sort of late 2000s british indie band bassist way, and while i’m not sure i could fix him (he probably needs a man for that) i do think i would have fun trying. ultimately he’s not higher because he’s kind of annoying and his eyebrows piss me off.

representing the dilves at eighth is doctor macdonald. he’s entrancing to me he has this vibe of like gentle paternal indulgence... like even if you were annoying he’d be very fond of you. and i need that. when he said “i’d like to run that man through” and rubbed his eyes and looked so tired, i really felt something. the crow’s feet, the widow’s peak, the hair, yes!!

doing it for the feminists, in seventh we have harry goodsir. the loveliest guy on the expedition until he goes nastymode, and i’m fully on board with both versions. this picture was chosen for a reason and it’s bc his long curly hair full beard miserable expression era was simply unbeatable. unfortunately, and this is maybe the most insane thing i’ve ever said about a man, or at least top ten, when his half eaten corpse was laid out face down, and it had noticeable back hair, i got the ick. just to add insult to injury :/

i’m as surprised as you are that he’s not higher, number six, james fitzjames! he is my pretty pretty princess. nails, hair, hips, heels. high femme queen in his cunty little outfits ordering the men around. i want to brush his hair, one hundred strokes minimum. i think this is less sexual than some others on this list, it’s more appreciation. but my god do i appreciate him.

stay alive, number five, it’s thomas jopson. most beautiful haunted doll in the arctic, but that pretty face is covering up a seriously compelling #WeirdGuy underneath. all the shiny hair in the world can’t hide an obsession with his boss that in the modern era would be getting him a very serious meeting with HR. what a character, servicetopson you rock my world. but at the end of the day he loses points because i hate the beard. garrigan looks great with a beard in other stuff, i really don’t know why the scurvybeard was so foul. terror hair and makeup department GET IT TOGETHER. 

number phwoar, henry collins is here! he’s big he’s sweet he’s deeply mentally unstable he needs a cuddle and we’ve all seen that gif of him in aliens. would love to make him a really nice cup of tea (seems like a two sugars man), pet his hair as he rests his head in my lap, then fuck up my hip flexors. 

and now... we enter our top three. who’s made it to the prestigious cock podium?

first up, the winner of our bronze cock medal, which presumably he’ll be flogging for an unreasonable price to someone he’s assured it’s solid gold, “cornelius hickey”! people will bitch and moan about how he’s a violent lunatic who’s killed people like i’m not a cuti romero stan 🙄 i can see beyond that, my third eye is firmly open. the potential for a fun toxic relationship is absolutely off the charts bc that’s the only kind he has. and he’s very pretty when he cries. i can forgive a lot of crimes for a man whose nose entrances me.

in second place, such a close runner up, i have to award this honour to edward little. a pedestrian choice, you might think, if you don’t know the lore. i couldn’t fully explain my feelings towards this secondary character who’s not especially exciting on first watch when i started the show until i googled his actor... although i lacked the words to express this at the time i was cocking this man when i was 13 and he first appeared in misfits with a stupid neck tattoo and a horrible suit, and i cock him again now. this is a cock that’s followed me all my life, even though i forgot he existed for about a decade in between. who else can truly say they’ve EARNED a spot on my list like he has? he’s sad, he’s sopping wet, i could make him cry extremely easily. mwah

and finally...

number one. it had to be him, it was always going to be him. solomon tozer, take a bow and i’ll take ten cranberry pills. sol is thee top cock for so many reasons and chief among them is versatility. whatever you need he can be it. handsome soldier boy in a fancy red uniform that shows off his trim little waist? COCK! hostile violent mutineer throwing his life away in a rebellion? COCK! broken man inducted into a cult who cries about it? COCK!!! sexiest man in the damn arctic i know he was beating the boys off with a stick. there is a certain level of sexiness a man can reach where nothing he does is an ick, and i knew he’d reached that for me once i saw him in that insanely stupid hat at sir john’s funeral and didn’t give a fuck. call him tom jones the way he can leave his hat on. keep thotting it up in heaven/hell king i miss you every day. i know it was huge. my heart hurts.

[morgenstern16]

I played about ten hours of Fallout 4 in Survival Mode and I think this might be the platonic Fallout 4 experience. For those who don't know, survival mode is the ultimate hard mode in Fallout 4 and the changes it makes completely alter how you play the game.

The most fundamental change survival mode makes is that you can only save when you go to sleep at a bed. These can be scattered quite a ways from each other, and if you aren't regularly sleeping, you could lose a lot of progress if you get unlucky. And the thing is that in survival, you need all the luck you can get, because it is vastly more lethal than regular gameplay.

Enemies do way more damage to you, to the point where even a handful of grazing shots can force you to retreat. Firefights you could reliably tank in normal mode will kill you in seconds. That small band of raiders in normal gameplay that act as a roadbump are a serious threat in survival mode. Get jumped by ghouls? Prepare for the fight of your life. Power armor, which in normal gameplay feels like overkill for 99% of all fights, is a necessity for taking on any large fortress or settlement and walking out of there alive.

Healing is much slower in survival, so you can't heal your way through a firefight. If you take damage, it's not going to heal in time for the next round of bullets or melee strikes. Hell, it's probably not going to heal until the entire firefight is done with. Given that the quickest way to make enemies not damage you is to kill them, this also means that reloading is absolutely terrifying. You may be ducking around cover to fall back, but if the enemy decides to pursue, it could mean being sent to your last save.

This also means that any sort of combat ally, such as a walking protectron or merc helper, is a godsend in combat, not only acting as a distraction but providing valuable fire support. I did an entire quest with an NPC merc along my side and by the end I was genuinely grateful for his help, instead of seeing him as an asshole getting in the way of my gun. Proper companions are always helpful, but they're especially helpful here, as they can be healed if they go down covering for you.

They also fill the role of walking backpack, which is very helpful when everything has weight. You can't carry 5 million pounds worth of every type of ammo at all times, you need to decide what types of ammo are worth collecting and holding onto. As your weapons improve, so does their weight, and all the junk you need to sell or use for upgrade gets harder and harder to carry back home.

On top of all this, you need to manage your hunger, health, thirst, and sleep. If you aren't taking care of your body by eating, drinking, and sleeping regularly, your stats will get worse and worse until you eventually die. Not only that, but you can't use food and water to restore your health unless your basic needs are already topped off. So before you go out scavenging out in the wasteland or going on a quest, you need to fill up on all your basic needs and bring supplies with you so you aren't caught starving while out in the field.

Now these are more than just a timer. Remember how I said how combat is much more lethal in survival? Well one of the ways you can even the odds is by using combat drugs. These can boost your damage, increase your defence, or even slow down time. It can very easily be the difference between life and death. In normal gameplay, the downside is getting addicted, which causes stat debuffs if you start going through withdrawal (addiction can be fixed though by going to a doctor or by taking meds, but those are few and far in between). In survival, these also put a lot of strain on your body, drastically cutting into your need for sleep, food, or water. In a sense, carrying supplies is what allows you to go all out in an emergency, letting you pull off maneuvers you have no right to.

Now here's another big change survival mode makes to the game: no fast travel. You can't press a button and travel to the other side of the map instantly. You have to haul ass over there yourself. This isn't as long as it looks once you start clearing out the map and you can just run from place to place, but it means you need a lot more safe places to rest and heal up at. This means you have to really engage with the settlement system to create a network of bases at which you can resupply at. Settlements aren't just a cute little minigame anymore, they're a vital part of your exploration. Building up all these settlements also means you need to engage with merchants much more in order to get rare parts instead of just scavenging when you need them.

In short, survival mode brings all the disparate parts of the game together that really makes Fallout 4 feel like a real cohesive game with a unique emergent narrative. It is deeply frustrating at times but when you can actually scrape out a win against the hellish beasts of the wasteland you feel incredible. I don't know how far I'll be able to get in the game with survival mode on but I'm willing to try.

[goshen-applecrumbledore]

hello!! i love your works so much. you manage to be so intimately detailed within a single sentence. it’s really incredible how you are able to craft so much with so few words. anyway, i have a couple questions for you:

what got you started writing? how long have you been writing?

i noticed in particular your openings are always visceral and full of character. how do you usually approach your openings when you’re working on a draft?

and finally, which work of yours is your favorite?

that's so so kind, thank you, I don't know what to say, haha. I love to pack a sentence. below is an article on Big Sentences from the magazine I worked at in my 20s that was hugely influential to me.

writing talk and some examples below, using a cut because it's a long (ironic!)

how long I've been writing: I know this is an annoying answer but I've been writing all my life. little kid-stories about spunky redheaded heroines going on adventures in grade school, followed immediately by naruto slash fic, which I've obviously never looked back from. I don't know what actually made me start writing, but I've always loved to read, so writing follows, I think. I also draw, with varying success. for a lot of years I only drew and didn't write much at all, but somewhere in my mid-20s my focus flipped to writing and hasn't gone back.

openings: I looooove writing opening sentences and opening scenes in general. I think this is so important to set the tone and immediately get people to know your characters. even in fic, where they DO know your characters, they don't know YOUR take on them yet.

I think about how I can set the scene as quickly and impactfully as possible, which for me means getting immediately into some kind of happening-right-now action. someone's gotta be doing something. don't start with exposition, trust your reader to understand what's going on very shortly, and trust yourself to make any unknowns clear through what happens in the next couple paragraphs, instead of verbose explaining. primo verbs. get AFTER it.

as an example, some favourite opening paragraphs of mine:

Dean walked into Trish Maynard’s bedroom on the top floor of her parents’ home in an affluent suburb of St. Paul, Minnesota, and said, “Smells like Juicy Fruit and virginity in here.”

I like this one because it's got dialogue, it sets the scene and I, selfishly, think it's funny. I mentioned "parents' home" to immediately establish that this person is a kid, same with "affluent." just quick words that IMPLY a ton.

Sam spent ten minutes standing in his room trying to decide whether it would be worse to take his clothes off when he got there or to show up already naked. In the end, he went with a robe, nothing underneath. There was something pious and ceremonious about a robe, and it took it that one extra step away from a normal encounter. Barefoot, even though the dungeon floor was cold.

I like this one because it's not clear why he's doing what he's doing, which (I hope) stokes curiosity instead of being confusing. assuming that works, I think that's always fun. where's he going? why was being naked an option? naked in a DUNGEON? etc.

and a few I think are weak:

The back of Carmy’s throat was gummy with Pepto and his eyelids felt like sandpaper. The nicotine gum made his teeth all fuzzy and stale. He couldn't remember the last time he drank water. It was either Wednesday or Thursday.

This has some fun words (gummy, fuzzy. lol) but doesn't contain any DOING verbs. he's standing there, feeling shitty. not a compelling start

Sam was doing push-ups in the big empty room they set up to use as a workout space by putting down a rubber locking mat and getting a few dumbbells and kettlebells, resistance bands for physio. He was at the tail end of an hour as the interval timer on his phone ticked down, his arms and core aching, shirt wet with sweat. He had music playing quietly, he didn’t recognize the song.

uninteresting subject matter!! Who gives a shit about working out? the story isn't about working out! no relevance or stoked curiosity!! word choice implies the kind of very-real monotony of working out. why would I want the reader to feel monotony? foolish

favourite work: this changes all the time because I rarely like my own work for very long, so I always like more recent ones best.

my favourite right now overall is probably my true detective fic Hangdog. their voices and accents are so so fun and it had all my favourite topics. smelling bad. alcoholism. violence. and ultimately a nice ending.

I also have a continued soft spot for Matryoshka dolls (spn, johndean) because I've always wanted to capture the feeling of being in an objectively abusive relationship that also has a lot of love in it. I never really handle Big Ideas in my work, I like small ideas (smelling bad. conversations) but abuse is a big idea and it was challenging and interesting to write!!

thank you for the very nice ask, it was a lot of fun. always happy to chat