#people were talking about this just last week and getting told that was an inappropriate comparison to make 😭 now it's canon

[agnesandhilda]

"when I'm cruel to others to make myself feel strong I act like my abusive father" says guy who will learn Nothing from this revelation

[hurtspideyparker]

Tony doesn't tell the Avengers about Peter's secret identity, but Peter starts coming over constantly and chilling around the tower, helping Tony in his workshop or eating dinner with everyone.

Since Tony is weirdly secretive about who the kid is, and the fact that Spider-Man is still a small unknown (presumably adult) hero who isn't on any Avengers radars, they all collectively come to the conclusion that he's Tony's illegitimate child.

Bruce: They do have the same eyes...

Steve: This is an inappropriate conversation to have. If Tony doesn't want to tell us then we shouldn't pry

Natasha: Tony doesn't even like kids. There's no way he would tolerate one if it wasn't because of his guilt complex. I'm surprised there isn't more little Starks running around considering his previous lifestyle

Clint: *cough* drunk slut *cough*. Oh excuse my throat, I meant to say he was a drunk slut

Natasha: Steve they're the exact same. Talk too much, too fast, genius brains that go right over our heads, stubborn, like to cope with humor, same body language. They'll have the same smile lines when Peter grows into them. The only difference is that Peter was raised with manners

Steve: I'm not saying I don't agree, I'm saying it's none of our business. Anyone with basic observational skills can tell they're desperate to fill father and son roles in each others' lives, but Tony's really weird about it, so we should let him keep it private

Clint: We probably make him nervous

Bruce: Because he thinks he's a bad dad?

Natasha: I think he's kinda good at it. Which is extremely unnerving

Steve: Honestly out of all of us I had bets on Bruce having a secret wife and kids hidden somewhere. Tony stepping up to be a father was lower on my list than Nat

Natasha: You have a list?

Bruce: You think I pull?

Steve: That's irrelevant. I think it's nice that they're so close already, but we don't need to press. It might mess up a good thing

Clint: Wait can we go back to this list business. Are these like pragmatic, military leader lists, or are these for pleasure? What other kinds of lists do you have? What about which one of us is most likely to turn on you. Or what you'd turn for. Oh! What about a list of all our weak points based on accessibility and intensity, with contingency plans in case of defection or aliens or brainwashing or alien brainwashing causing defection

Steve:

Natasha:

Bruce:

Steve: This is why Tony won't share his personal life with us.

They last another week before Clint, Natasha, and Bruce team up to steal a strand of Peter's hair and test it for paternity. Steve knows something is up, and follows Clint to Bruce's lab.

Steve: What are you doing...

Natasha: Admit it, you know exactly what we're doing and you want to see the results

Steve: I... well if you already have them there's no point keeping it from me

Clint: Tony Stark is not the daddy!

Tony: Which of my exes have you been talking to?

Clint: AH oh hey Tony didn't see you there

Steve: I'm not apart of this

Tony: Is this about Peter? He told me something plucked his head when he was walking down here. Which of you murder twins was hiding in the rafters

Natasha: Y'know he's not your kid, whoever told you he was lied to you and I hope you get your child support back

Tony: My kid? He's my intern. What funky kool-aid have you all been drinking, that boy is sorting my tool drawer right now. He has slightly better dexterity than Dum-E, it's been quite helpful

Bruce: You have really poor professional boundaries if he's just an intern

Tony: Okay fine. He's actually Spider-Man. I didn't wanna tell anyone cause the Accords were still fishy, but everything should be good now. Anyways, he really wants to train with you guys so you'd have to know eventually

Clint: Who the hell is Spider-Man?

Steve: That guy in Queens who helps bring in peoples' groceries?

Tony: Well, yeah—listen, he's like 14 and he just got his powers. I'm not exactly sending him to fight armed terrorists yet. He'll grow into it, but trust me, there's potential. I'm kind of like his mentor

Steve: You really don't need to do that

Bruce: Yeah we'll all help out from now on

Natasha: Don't take too much responsibility for the boy

Clint: Oh god what have you been teaching him?

Tony: Thanks for the vote of confidence guys. Whatever, now that you all know he'll be hounding you all day for advice anyways. Good luck with that. Friday tell Pete to come down here, the Avengers are gonna train with him

Tony leaves them all, snickering to himself as loud footsteps come crashing down the hallway. If they didn't know any better they'd say several elephants were tripping down the stairs. Then, the doors burst open, Peter's mouth already running a mile-a-minute.

Peter: Really, you guys know, you guys will teach me? Can I use the shield, Ms. Romanoff can you show me how to kick, show me with Mr. Barton, or, or Mr. Rogers. I can take down someone bigger than me, I'm actually really strong. Wanna see? Why are we in Bruce's lab, is that my first lesson! Can I touch this? What are you making here, how long has this been distilling, what about my webs, have you ever seen my webs? I did them myself, but I bet we could make them even better, watch out it's really sticky—

Steve ends up with webs all over his face, several of Bruce's beakers broken from the white spray, one reacting poorly with it and exploding all over Clint and Natasha. Bruce immediately shoves them into the decontamination shower, leaving them as two drenched rats wearing skin-tight combat gear. Natasha is already fuming at the thought of trying to peel it off.

Peter: I'm really sorry, I didn't know it was on ricochet... the splitter webs were just 'cause I panicked

Steve: This is why I told you all to leave it be.

"Noted," they all say in unison.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 1

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, and cursing (as always)

Masterlist | Part 2

Y/N sighed as she stared at her suitcase. She would never get it closed without breaking the zipper. She opened it again, going through the selection of clothes while she asked herself which of her items weren’t absolutely necessary. The unfortunate answer was that she needed everything. 

She had wild plans for the short vacation her brother had invited her on. According to him, she had been too stressed the last couple of months, and she desperately needed some time off. Along with the promise that he’d take care of everything, she had agreed to join his trip. She could use a one-night stand, or two and a little flirting to get her mind off her busy job.

However, there was the small nuisance of Lando coming along. Ever since he gained some confidence after his career took off and girls started herding him, he had been mocking her and making extremely inappropriate comments. He had changed over the years and Max had told her all about it. He told her about his new endeavours with the ladies; how he brought a different girl home every weekend and never spoke to them again. The attention was feeding his ever-growing ego, and it annoyed Y/N endlessly. He needed someone to put him in his place, and she would volunteer every time.

She smiled triumphantly when she finally zipped her suitcase closed with half an hour to spare. Sitting on her couch and scrolling on her phone, she waited for her brother to pick her up on his way to the airport. They greeted each other quickly before they took off, Y/N and Pietra catching up and discussing their plans for the week as Max drove.

Once they arrived at the airport, she spotted Lando all too quickly, casually leaning against a pillar near the check-in. He was wearing sunglasses (inside – like some lunatic) and a cocky smile on his face when he saw them approaching. 

“Y/N Fewtrell. It’s been a while…”

“If only it lasted longer,” She responded.

Lando smiled at her reply, enjoying her feisty character whereas Max hissed into her ear, “Play nice.” 

“Let’s board?” Lando asked. “The jet’s ready, I think.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Private?”

“Yes. Are you impressed?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed before rolling her suitcase to the plane.

The group arrived at their destination in no time – flying private really did have its perks – and drove the rental car to the resort. Taxis were a no-go when half of the people on the trip were professional drivers, and apparently, so were ordinary cars. 

The porter took the bags out of the trunk and Lando handed the keys to the valet driver before they entered the hotel. Y/N took a seat in one of the luxurious chairs in the hotel lobby while she let her brother manage the check-in. She was people-watching when the group joined her.

“Okay… So, there’s been a little mishap…” Y/N looked at her brother with narrowed eyes.

“What did you do?” She said in a low tone.

“So, I may have forgotten to book an extra room for you…” Max admitted.

“What?”

“And they have no other rooms left, even the most expensive ones are taken.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“I’m not,” he paused, “but, you can share with Lando.”

Of course, Lando would oh-so-heroically offer to share his room with her. She could just smack the smirk right off his face.

“Max, can I talk to you for a minute – in private?” Y/N asked, an innocent smile on her face, before forcefully pulling her brother aside.

“I can’t sleep in the same room as Lando, Max. I had plans for this vacation, plans that can’t happen if I’m sharing a room with Lando.”

Max raised an eyebrow at her insinuation but didn’t comment on it. “Well, what other option do you have?” He said, crossing his arms.

“I could share a room with Pietra, and you can share with Lando…” she suggested, smiling up at her brother sweetly. “Please?”

Max sighed. “I don’t know about that, Y/N. Pietra and I have plans too, you know. Plans that include nightly activities. In bed,” He clarified.

Y/N pulled a face of disgust but offered her brother the same courteousness of ignoring the comment. “Are you serious, Max? You’re okay with me, your little baby sister, sharing a room – a bed, with Lando Norris? You know well enough that he’s always trying to get into my pants. This is your fault, you know. You told me you had taken care of everything.”

“I don’t like this as much as you do, but there’s not really another choice, is there?”

“Yes, there is. I told you, I can room with—”

“Y/N. Don’t be childish, you’ll be fine sharing a room for a few nights.”

“He’s going to try to take my innocence, Max. You can’t let that happen. You’re my big brother. You’re supposed to protect me, not throw me into the lion’s den.” Y/N tried, pulling out all the stops in the hope Max would change his mind. There was no other card she could play. She was tugging on his arm, practically begging him in the middle of the hotel lobby. If Lando and Pietra didn’t already know what was going on, they sure would know now.

Max rolled his eyes. “Your innocence has been gone for years, I’m sure,” Y/N gasped in offence, “It’s not going to work, make the best of it, yeah?” He concluded, patting her back before walking back to the group. 

She watched as her brother walked away, frustration clear on her face, but she joined him only a couple of seconds later; she needed to make the best of this, after all, and it was too late to go home now.

As her eyes met Lando’s, she could already feel a wave of irritation come over her. He was standing casually, the stupid sunglasses still perched on his nose, hands tucked in his pockets, and a smirk plastered on his face as if he knew exactly how her conversation had gone.

“You really don’t want to share a bed with me, do you?” He asked her as soon as she was near enough.

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “What gave it away?”

“Could’ve been the part where you begged your brother not to throw you into the lion’s den,” Lando said, raising his eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe the part where you said I’m always trying to get into your pants.” He feigned hurt, putting a hand over his chest. “All those years of flirting down the drain…”

He chuckled softly at her angry expression, the sound infuriatingly smug. “Look, you’re making this into a bigger deal than it is. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice dropped as he leaned closer, “I’ll be the gentleman here. You can take the couch.”

Y/N blinked. “What?” She hissed.

“The couch, it’s all yours. I’ll suffer through the luxury of the bed.” He sighed dramatically before turning toward the elevator, casually slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“See you upstairs, roommate,” he winked, stepping inside as the doors slid shut.

Her jaw was slack as she watched him disappear behind the sliding doors. She turned to Max angrily, “What the fuck is wrong with him? Did he fall on his head as a child or something?”

Pietra laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around Max’s waist. “He’s just teasing you, Y/N. It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go up.”

– – – – –

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” Y/N said as soon as she entered the room.

“Oh, hello. Good to see you.” Lando smiled smugly from his position on the bed.

She glared at him – if looks could kill he’d be dead ten times over by now. “Get. Off. My. Bed.” She forced out through her gritted teeth.

Lando stretched out even further on the bed, hands behind his head. “Your bed? If I’m not mistaken, you were an afterthought to this vacation. This room was originally mine. You should be glad I’m kind enough to share it with you.”

Y/N stared at him. She wanted to rebuke him and tell him to stay on the couch, but he was right – although she’d never admit it to his face. He was doing her a favour by sharing his room, but he would never be chivalrous enough to sacrifice his bed. She took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, her voice cold and direct. “I guess we’ll share the bed.”

“Fine with me,” Lando said offhandedly as he messed with the remote control.

“Alright, then. I’ll go get ready for dinner.” 

The silence that settled over the room was awkward, at best. Y/N felt Lando’s eyes pricking in her back as she did her makeup, and the eye contact through the mirror didn’t make it any better.

“What?” She asked, hoping for some conversation to fill the quiet.

“Nothing,” Lando responded, averting his eyes and continuing to browse through the series and movies on the TV.

Y/N frowned at the response. She’ll have to raise a topic of conversation herself, then. “Why is it so cold in here?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Lando retorted.

“Do you think it’s cold or are you okay with the temperature?” She continued, but Lando merely shrugged in response.

Y/N sighed, setting down her brush and powder before getting up to look at the air-conditioning setting. In contrast to the rest of the room, it was an old-fashioned system with a disk with a pointer to set the temperature. She turned the disk, but the pointer didn’t move.

“Are you getting hotter?” She asked confused, not feeling a temperature difference in the air blowing out of the air conditioner. 

“Don’t even try,” she added quickly before Lando could respond, already seeing the smirk form on his face.

It quickly changed into an innocent smile, “What? I was just going to say I don’t feel a difference.”

“Mhm, sure. I think the air conditioner is broken. I turned the temperature up, but it’s not getting any warmer…”

Lando got up from the bed with a sigh and walked closer to look at the buttons himself. 

“You don’t have to get so close…” Y/N commented when she felt his breath hitting her neck.

“I’m trying to see what the buttons say, Y/N. I have to get close in order to do that.”

“You’re getting in my personal space.”

“Personal space? What’s that? I thought we were past the formalities.”

Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. 

“I don’t know why it’s not working,” Lando continued, “It must be broken,” he concluded before walking back to the bed. 

“What? Can’t you fix it?”

Lando looked at Y/N incredulously, “How am I supposed to fix it?”

“I don’t know… Aren’t you good with technology and stuff?”

“That thing is ancient, Y/N.”

She huffed. She’d just have to deal, then. She quickly changed into one of her dresses and finished her hair.

“Aren’t you going to change?” She asked Lando, who was still lying on the bed in his plane clothes.

“Hm?”

“We’re leaving any minute now. It’d be nice if you changed into something decent for dinner. We’re not eating at some dive bar, you know.”

Lando rolled his eyes and sighed, “Don’t you ever get tired of yourself?”

“Excuse me?” she retorted, crossing her arms as she stared him down, about to scold him when there was a knock on the door.

“You’re lucky this time,” she added, before letting Max and Pietra in. 

She plastered a sweet smile on her face and complimented Pietra on her outfit.

“I can say the same about you,” Pietra responded kindly, pulling Y/N in for a hug.

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Y/N waved off her comment.

“Are you ready to leave?” Max cuts in.

“Yes, don’t know about Lando though. He wouldn’t change.”

“I’m ready,” he interjected. “I don’t need as much time as some people here,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Okay, let’s go.” Max pulled her out of the room before Y/N could respond, her mouth already open to rebut his rude comment.

“Did you hear that, Max? How on earth am I supposed to get through the night – let alone the entire vacation – when he talks to me like that? I swear, I’m going to strangle him in his sleep—” 

“Let’s not do that. You just need to adjust a little bit.”

“Did you hear what he said before? He asked me if I never get tired of myself. Do you know how insulting that is? He’s absolutely insufferable! His ego’s way too big, he could use someone to knock it down for him,” Y/N kept rambling as Max led her to the elevator, basically pushing her in before she quieted down.

Pietra and Lando joined them only a few seconds later, and the cocky grin on Lando’s face showed he knew exactly how much he had ticked her off, and the enjoyment he took from it. Y/N glared at him throughout the elevator ride. However, despite his earlier comments and the way he had annoyed her all day – if not all her life – she couldn’t deny he looked good. 

The white shirt he had changed into, with the top buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, accentuated his muscled arms, and allowed her to see the glimmer of the silver chain around his neck – she had to admit he was attractive. When Lando caught her looking she quickly averted her gaze, looking at her nails as she picked at them. But he had already noticed, his grin only becoming cockier. The confidence with which he carried himself, although extremely frustrating and unnecessary, had caught her eye along with all the other girls’, but it wasn’t enough to make up for his annoying behaviour.

– – – – –

The dinner was uncomfortable. 

Of course, Y/N and Lando had to be seated across from each other. And if the discussions earlier that day didn’t display their dislike for each other, the lack of conversation at the dinner table certainly did. They didn’t exchange a single word until Y/N snapped at him.

“Would you stop looking at me?” 

Her patience had worn thin after feeling his eyes on her every other second, but Lando merely smirked at the annoyance in her voice, “Where else am I supposed to look?” he asked innocently.

“I don’t know. Your food, maybe?” She shot back.

Lando raised his hands in surrender, before turning his attention to Max and Pietra, who were deep in conversation. Y/N tried to focus on their discussion, but the persistent feeling of Lando’s gaze on her was impossible to ignore. Every time their eyes met, his smirk only grew, making her jaw clench tighter.

When the meal came to an end, Y/N was more than ready to leave. She quickly collected her bag and jacket before joining Pietra on the walk back. With Lando far away from her, she could finally relax and talk comfortably, without being distracted by a pair of eyes burning holes in her face. The group quickly made their way back to the hotel, and after the elevator ride, Y/N and Lando were once again left alone.

“It’s cold in here,” she mumbled, switching the lights on as she entered the hotel room.

“You don’t say,” he responded sarcastically.

Y/N sighed, deciding to ignore the comment and rather focus on the problem at hand. “Okay, we should probably discuss how we’re going to do this…” Lando looked at her confusedly, so she continued, “As concluded earlier today, we’ll share the bed. I’ll take the left side if that’s okay?” 

Lando nodded, so she continued, “The bed is big, so if you dare cross over to my side, I’ll choke you in your sleep—” 

“Ooh, kinky,” he interjected, and Y/N flashed him a fake smile, “or I’ll tell Max, and he’ll handle it for me,” she finished.

Now, usually, Lando wouldn’t care much for her threats, but he knew Max was protective over his sister and from experience, Lando also knew that Max would indeed fuck him up if he crossed Y/N’s boundaries. He was actually surprised that Max was okay with him and Y/N sharing a room; he was usually up her ass whenever she so much as stood near a man. He didn’t know whether to be glad about it or not; did Max think Lando was like a brother to his sister, that nothing would ever happen between them, or did he trust him enough not to do anything without her permission? 

“Fine, fine. I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he told her.

Y/N squinted her eyes at him. 

“I will,” he repeated. 

She wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but the sincerity in his voice suited her a bit. She nodded and quickly changed into her pyjamas in the bathroom before slipping under the covers on the left side of the bed – as promised. She lay on her side, facing away from the right side where Lando would soon settle. She stayed as close to the edge as she could without falling off, so much so that Lando raised an eyebrow at her when he returned.

“You okay over there? Not lonely or cold or anything? I could warm you up if you like,” he suggested, the amusement evident in his tone.

“I’m fine,” she muttered. She wasn’t really, though. The room was freezing with the air conditioner still blasting cold air, and the thin comforter, which would normally be fine for the temperatures outside, wasn’t helping much.

She felt the bed move as Lando shifted, but she stayed silent, quietly staring out the window where she could just barely make out the street lanterns through the thin curtains. Although she pretended not to care (and would continue to do so), being this close to him made her uneasy – not because she didn’t trust him, although she wasn’t entirely convinced yet, but because of how aware she was of him. His presence, the warmth radiating from his body, and the faint scent of his cologne were all impossible to ignore in this proximity.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, but her mind refused to quiet. Despite everything, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he had actually been pretty decent at dinner –  apart from his frustrating staring habit – and how relaxed, confident, and hot he looked in that shirt… She hated how easily he affected her and how only he could wind her up without any effort at all.

– – – – –

Part 2

[harlowhockeystick]

LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY

y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?

coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader

warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 4,244

a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write

The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name. 

Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either. 

But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity? 

Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though. 

-

The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car. 

“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights. 

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away. 

“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early. 

Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son. 

“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”

They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby. 

She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her. 

“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day. 

“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs. 

“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this. 

“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.

“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members. 

“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her. 

“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”

He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like. 

“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?” 

His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it. 

He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision. 

“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.” 

Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind. 

-

She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well. 

The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore. 

“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?” 

“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.

Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good. 

They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while. 

“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?

“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?” 

Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud. 

And he did. 

He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away. 

There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while. 

Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right. 

She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt. 

He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.

“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her. 

“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings. 

“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?” 

“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.

It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps. 

He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”

She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock. 

He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot. 

Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”

She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.” 

With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time. 

Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her. 

Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it. 

Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted. 

The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more. 

He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two. 

She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers. 

“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.

“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach. 

“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”

-

She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can. 

She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began. 

He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast. 

God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too. 

But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?

Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.

It might be worth it for once, she thinks. 

feedback | masterlist | au tag

tagging mutuals to boost, let me know if you don’t want to be tagged! @fallinallincurls @nylwnder @bitchinbarzal @ilyasorokinn @leafsbabe @twinklelilstarkey @raysofcrosby @lcandothisallday

[theheartbreakprincesss]

red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

[gracieheartspedro]

I Can See You

Joel Miller x fem! Reader

Hiya friends, I am back with part 2. This time, it gets juicy (; I'm planning on doing tons of parts to this story, so please give me feedback! I'm not used to writing smut, so this is all new to me.

Warnings: DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (reader is 25, Joel is 39), smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f recieving), fingering, workplace sex, joel being a little bit of a perv, reader not having a filter per usual.

Outline: After an encounter with his boss's daughter that was a bit inappropriate, Joel finds her a bit irresistible and teaches her a lesson in not dressing like a tease at the office.

Word count: 3.7k

PART 1

I was not looking forward to our usual monthly meeting. My father invited all the contractors and office crew to the conference room, where we made sure everyone knew the game plan of the month. I usually gave everyone a heads up on some delays in shipments and new clients. 

Which meant I had to stand in front of Joel Miller and my dad and talk about work. 

It had been over a week since I went to Joel’s house and “apologized” for almost fucking his brother. Last week he was hardly in the office, and when he was, he wouldn’t say anything but “hi” and “bye”. He was busy, I knew that. But I couldn’t help but stare at him when he was in the office. I wanted to say something to him. But I didn’t know how to catch his attention. 

After our talk, where I waltz into his house and he told me he liked to stare at me, I knew we were kind of on the same page. He was hard to read, I was too easy to read. He knew how to press my buttons. And God, did I need him to push all of them. 

If he liked to stare like the rest of them, I was going to give him a good reason to stare, I decided. 

I found a tight blue dress in the back of my closet and heels that were a bit higher than my usual. It wasn’t a dress I usually wore to work, but I could get away with it if I started the day wearing a sweater. 

I usually carpooled with my dad every morning, but he left before I even woke up for some reason. I chalk it up to meeting prep. 

So I grab a banana and my car keys and head to the office. 

—

I walk to my desk, anticipating everyone’s arrival. I hear my dad on the phone in his office, which meant it was going to be a rough start. If someone was bugging him before his second coffee, he was going to have a rough day.

I was the first desk people would see when they walked in, so I would be the first thing Joel would see, so I needed to be strategic in my welcome. 

I start printing out the usual outline for the monthly meeting, glancing up at the door every time it opened. As I was the last page printed, I grabbed my highlighter and started highlighting the most important parts of the meeting. It was routine at this point. 

I lean over my desk, my sweater hanging off my shoulders. I hear the door open and I lock eyes with Joel. And behind him, Tommy. 

He had wet hair, I could tell he must’ve been in a rush this morning. He wears a blue short sleeve button up and dark wash blue jeans. His boots are filthy from mud, which always tracks through the office. 

“Mornin’ Millers,” I say plainly, trying not to make it too obvious I was trying to grab his attention. 

“Mornin’,” Joel says groggily, “Everyone here before us?”

I finish my last line of highlighter and stand up straighter to really face him, “Yes sir.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with wonder in his eyes. Man this guy saw my tits too, I think for a second. The thought makes me cringe a bit. 

Tommy doesn’t frequent the office often since he’s not the boss of the work sites. He’s mainly Joel’s little helper. He always attends the meetings, just in case Joel or my dad need him to pick up slack somewhere. 

Joel doesn’t say anything, just opens the conference room door. He waves Tommy in, trying to grab his attention away from me. Joel stands against the door, waiting. 

“I’ll be in a second,” I say, grabbing all my pens and my phone, “Don’t wait up.”

He rolls his eyes and lets go of the door, letting it slam behind him. 

Play it cool.

My dad finally comes out of his office, giving me a confused look as I head to the door. 

“What’s the occasion?” He questions, gesturing towards my dress.

“You’re always bitching that I’m not even trying to dress business-y and now here I am, trying, and you-”

“Whatever, hun, just lets get this meeting done. I have a lot of shit to deal with when this is over. Got a long day of meetings downtown.”

I nod, knowingly. 

My heels clack against the marbled floor as I waltz into the room of about 8 men. 

The thing about being the boss’s daughter is, the men that work for him are never going to blatantly ogle you. They will do it when he’s not looking. So when Dad was setting up his screen on the TV, I watched as the older contractors stared at me up and down. I am not a very self conscious person, but old men just gross me out. These guys were old enough to be my grandfather at this point. 

Joel was different. He always kept his head down and looked outside the huge window, unless he had a genuine question. He always stayed later focused at work. No funny business. 

Today, I needed his full, undivided attention. 

So I slip my sweater off and start handing out the outlines. I get a few confused looks, but I keep my composure. 

“Okay gentlemen, good morning,” My dad starts, “We got a lot of shit this week. We have to finish the Locklane Property this Friday. I am having Joel oversee everything is in order there. The check hasn’t fully cleared, so we need everything perfect. It’s a big payday.”

I find my seat next to my dad, right across from Joel and Tommy. 

“The last few shipments for the Brier Woods property are delayed by the way,” I purse my lips, “But I can try to make some calls to speed that up. I know we need it done ASAP.”

“Any status on those kitchen sinks you put in for last month?” Joel asks, directing his question at me. I cock my eyebrow, not expecting a question from him so quickly.

“Not yet,” I lean back in my chair, “But when I get in touch with them, you’re the first person I’ll call.”

“Much ‘preciated,” He mumbles, his eyes go back to scanning the outline. My dad starts his normal speech about not staying on the job too long and how he wants to make sure his crews are being treated fairly. This was normally directed to the older contractors, who treated their crews like shit and constantly overworked them. 

The meeting is usually about 30 minutes long, so when we finish up final talks, my dad practically races back to his office to grab his car keys and leave for downtown. All the other men mosy out of the room and to their work trucks. I watch Tommy eyeball me from across the room while I clean up some spilled coffee and all the outlines littering the table. I look up at him, giving him a slight nod and wave. 

“Have a good day, Tommy,” I say, acknowledging him for the first time since almost fucking him. He smiles, giving me a kurt nod. He walks out of the room with another guy, while Joel hangs around typing on his phone. 

Once he notices everyone is gone, he speaks up. 

“That a new dress?”

My heart rate picks up. I clutch the papers against my chest, “Not new, just never worn.”

He stands up, putting a tooth pick in his mouth. 

“Never wear it again,” He says sternly. I watch him come closer to me, his shoulder lined up next to mine, “Ya’ tease.”

He starts for the door, leaving me as practically a puddle on the floor. 

I find my voice, grabbing his wrist to prevent him from walking further, “Only if by the end of the day, you’re the one taking it off.”

I never have seen a man move so fast, turning on his heels to face me. He’s centimeters away, I can smell his aftershave and his shampoo. 

“Playin’ a dangerous game there, sweetheart,” He murmurs, “You know better, right?”

I smile, inching closer, “Guess I don’t.”

He doesn’t smile back at the little game I’m trying to play, “I’m comin’ back on my lunch.”

And he leaves.

—-

I was just glad that everyone left at the same time during the day for lunch in the office. 

When 12 o’clock hits, everyone in the office bids me farewell for their hour and a half lunch. As one of the assistants opens the front door to leave, she holds the door for, you guessed it, Joel. He strides over to my desk slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. 

“Is anyone here?”

I shake my head, “All left on their breaks.”

I stand up, finding my way to the other side of my desk where he stood. 

“Why did you come back?” I question, leaning against my desk, moving some of the papers with my butt.

I am so nervous but I am still trying to play it cool. I spent all morning anticipating his arrival that I hardly did my job. I couldn’t make a phone call, I couldn’t answer a single email, I was so in my own head. What was he going to do when he got here?

“I don’t really know,” he licks his lips, “Just know ’m eager to have you alone again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After all these years of this man practically ignoring my existence, and here he is, eager to be alone?

“Oh really?”

He positions himself in between my legs, wrapping his arms around my waist. His biceps are tight against his shirt when he flexes like this. 

“And these fuckin’ dresses you’ve been wearing?” He scans my body like I’m something he wants to eat, “Has me thinking of all the things I should’ve done when I had you with your tits out in your bedroom.”

I laugh, a little too hard, “You mean when Tommy had my tits out?”

He shakes his head, grabbing my face with his hand. His hand is so big and his fingers so long, he takes up a lot of my face. 

That stops my laughter. 

“Tell me,” He mutters, “Why did you want him so bad?”

He doesn’t release my face, so I just shake my head.

He finally lets me go, his other arm still tightly around me. 

“You left me high and dry after tying up my bikini,” I say, my arms finding their way to behind his neck, “And you were too busy with the new neighborhood MILF.”

I slide a bit more off the desk and onto his right leg. My dress is slowly riding up. If I would’ve known this little dress caused such a stir, I would have worn it months ago. 

“Oh, so you were jealous?”

I felt a pang of embarrassment. I shake my head, “No, no, I just-”

“You are a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

I press myself into him a bit harder, my underwear finally making contact with his jeans. He looks down at what I’m doing, his head shaking. 

“Whatcha doin’ there?”

I smirk, using his grip on me to my advantage. I wrap my legs around his one leg, pressing myself even harder against him. 

“Don’t want anyone seeing us,” I whisper into his ear, “We should finish this somewhere else.”

He nods in agreement, knowing exactly where I was going with this. The only two places that have shades on the windows was my dad’s office and the conference room, so I choose the respectable thing and lead him into the conference room. I draw the shades, while he shuts the door and locks it. 

I walk over to him, my arms finding his neck again. He purses his lips, “I don’t think you realize how badly I wanted to bend you over this table this mornin’.”

Those same pursed lips, find their way to my exposed neck. I was already wet, but there’s something about someone’s breath on my neck. It went straight to in between my legs. 

“You should’ve,” I practically moan, “Right in front of everyone.”

He chuckles darkly, “Right in front of Tommy? Poor guy is down bad for you.”

I pull him away from me for a second, “Do you feel bad doing this?”

He shakes his head, “Fuck no, that guy gets every pussy that comes his way, this one is mine.”

This one is mine. 

I was fucking soaked at this point. 

“Is it?” Is all I can say, because his tongue is back on my neck and chest. He mindlessly tugs up my dress some more, exposing my panties. He uses one arm to lift me onto the conference table, my bare legs getting chills from the cold table top. 

I have been with 3 guys total, and not one of them had ever eaten me out. My first boyfriend was inexperienced and terrified to hurt me. He always told me “we would get around to it” but let’s just say, the relationship ended as quickly as he finished inside me. The other two were one night stands and I was too drunk to remember if they even touched my pussy with anything but their dicks. 

So when he gets eye level with my wet stained panties, I get a bit nervous. I clench my legs together a bit. 

“You gettin’ shy on me?”

I bite my lip, “No one has ever gone down on me.”

He leans back a bit on his knees, “You’re not a virgin are y-”

“No, no, Joel,” I quickly quip up, “I just never had a guy eat me out before. No guy has even shown initiative so I just let them fuck me.”

He looks flabbergasted, before spreading my legs again with his right hand. 

“These boys these days don’t know what the fuck they’re missin’,” He kisses my inner thighs, “Lemme take care of you, girl.”

He kisses my inner thighs, taking his sweet time. Watching him from this angle reminds me of seeing him trying to get those serving plates. He was so handsome, his dark hair falling around his ears. 

His lips eventually find my mound, which sends me into a moaning mess. I lean back, resting my elbows on the table. He uses one hand to keep me in my position, all while using the other to pull my panties off. 

He looks so focused, so driven and hungry. 

“Please,” I whimper, “Please Joel, do something.”

He smirks, “Very eager, little one.”

He licks one long stripe on my slit, my whole body freezes up for a second. He continues, diving deeper into me. He swirls his tongue everywhere. The sounds are pornographic, wet and so fucking hot. 

He presses harder down on my stomach, trying to keep me from moving. 

He brings his other hand up, his two fingers run through my heat. He releases my stomach for a moment, standing up from his spot on the floor. He then lifts his other hand up to my face. 

“Suck ‘em baby, get them nice and wet.”

I grab them with one hand, sticking them into my mouth. I lick and suck them like my life depended on it. Joel’s eyes get darker watching me moan around his fingers. He removes them, those two fingers finding my slit. 

“Gonna open you up some,” he mutters, “Not done eating ya.”

He returns to his knees, using his middle and ring finger now. He’s pushing them in skillfully, before pressing his lips onto my mound again. He starts fucking me slowly, his tongue running up and down my hot slit. 

He sets a pace, his fingers hooking inside me a bit, pressing me in spots I didn’t even know existed. 

“Holy fuck-” I groan, my hands finding his hair, “Don’t stop.”

His mouth finds my clit again, and that’s when I know I’m done for. He’s sucking so good, I can’t even think straight. 

Between the sounds and his expertise, I feel that familiar build up I feel when I’m touching myself. It feels hot in my lower stomach. I feel my legs and arms tense up. He feels it too, removing his mouth from me and focusing on using his fingers. 

“You gonna cum on my fingers? Go on, cum for me.” 

It throws me over the edge, my whole body tenses up. As I do that, his hands leave my tight hole and he starts to rub his entire hand over my clit. The continuous stimulation makes me feel something I’ve never felt before. I watch his jaw tighten as I cum all over him. 

“Jesus, fucking Christ, Joel.”

As I’m trying to catch my breath, I notice him undoing his belt. 

“I’m not done yet, girl,” He mumbles, “I still have so much I want to do to you.”

He pulls his pants down, keeping his shirt on. But I wanted to see all of him. 

“Take your shirt off,” I say, “I want to see you.”

“No time for that,” He groans, letting his dick free from his briefs. 

I practically gasp. 

He’s fucking huge. Bigger than I’ve ever been with, for sure. I knew he’d be hung, but for God’s sake, was that going to fit in me?

“Don’t worry, little one,” He says, noticing my jarred face, “It’ll fit.”

It’s like he reading my fucking mind. 

He finds his way on top of me. I realize all this foreplay, and he still hasn’t kissed me. 

“Joel,” I murmur, his face inches from me, “Kiss me.”

I capture his lips before he can respond. 

It was a patient kiss, at first. When I try to slip my tongue into his mouth, he starts to get a little more passionate with it. I can taste myself on his tongue, which turns me on more than I thought it would.

I was so lost in the kiss, I didn’t even realize he was starting to run his dick along my entrance. When it touches my clit, I pull away from the kiss with a hiss.

“Gonna ease it in,” He grabs ahold of his shaft, guiding it through my heat before settling right on my entrance. 

He pushes forward. I’ve never felt such delicious pressure in my life. I was still sensitive from the first orgasm, that as soon as he continued pressing himself into me, I was a moaning mess. 

He grabs my face again, pulling me up to meet his eyes. 

“More,” I moan, relaxing a bit so he could fill me up. And fill me up he did. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, “So fuckin’ tight.”

Once I adjust for a moment, he removes his hand from my face and lifts my legs up and places them around his hips. I notice I still have my heels on, which only feeds into this workplace fantasy I had imagined before he got here. God this was so dirty. 

He starts to move, his hips snapping into mine at a gentle pace. But something comes over me while he grinding into me. 

He’s watching himself disappear inside me, taking his time. 

“Joel,” I moan, “Fuck me harder.”

He chuckles lowly, “Oh, you ready for that?”

“Pleas-”

He snaps forward, settling into a brutal pace. I couldn’t help but moan out whenever his pelvis rubbed against me for a second. The table was squeaking and moving under us, but Joel just held me in place while pounding into me.

He reaches out, wrapping his hand around my throat. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me,” He’s clenching his teeth while he fucks me, like he’s holding back a little, “Aren’t ya?”

“Yes, sir, yes,” I strain out, not even realizing what I’m saying. 

“Oh my god, girl,” He’s going even faster, like he’s chasing his own orgasm, “Keep sayin’ that.”

He puts those expert fingers to good use again, reaching between us, and finding my clit. It takes less than a minute for him to get me back to the edge, my body starts shaking involuntarily. I had no control over it. 

“Oh my god, please sir!”

I lurch up, wrapping my entire body around him. 

“Squeezing me, baby,” He moans, “That’s right baby, cum all over this cock.”

It’s something I’ve never experienced while having sex. The concept of cumming at the same time seemed like something that only happened in porn or my favorite romance novels. 

But we did. 

We moan in unison, falling over the edge of our highs. He goes to pull out, but I hold him tighter, making him cum right inside me. As soon as we catch our breaths, he let’s go of my upper body slowly. 

“I came inside ya,” He mutters, easing himself out of me. It makes me feel so unbelievably empty. 

“I’m on birth control,” I explain, in between my gasps, “Wanted you to.”

He starts to pull his pants up, stuffing his softening cock into his briefs and away from my view. When he notices me staring, he stands back, getting a good look of me. 

“You look so fucking hot with my cum leaking out of you.”

A sentence I never thought I’d ever hear from Joel Miller. 

I smile, finding my footing on the ground, still kind of wobbly from having the life fucked out of me. I shimmy my dress down to cover my ass again. I glance around the room, trying to find my underwear. He knows exactly what I’m looking for, clearing his throat. 

I look up at him and see he has my underwear on his pointer finger. He gestures for me to grab them, but I think of an even better idea. I grab them from him and ball them up. I grab his belt loop, pulling him towards me. I slide the panties in his back pocket, all the while giving him a shit eating grin. 

“You’re bad news, little one.”

[noellefan101]

Offline to Online

Summary: your boyfriend is a streamer, a popular one at that. this is a fic about: how their chat find out that you are dating, how they treat you off-stream and on-stream/do they treat you differently

Warnings: swearing, mentioning of death threats and killing(Scaramouche), streamer reader(Scaramouche), slight ooc, if there is anything else then pls tell me

Characters: Xiao, Childe, Venti, Scaramouche, Aether

Note: I am trying my best ok, and I'm kinda new to Tumblr, so if it isn't to your liking then leave, please./I´m sorry if you can´t understand what I´m writing, bc neither can I/. btw this is later than I originally intended bc it got deleted when I was almost DONE, like seriously. so I have like no motivation left now, yay :(

Xiao

How Chat Found Out: You two were roommates, or that´s what his chat thought anyways. Because you two lived together that was what you told them and most believed that so you thought it was fine/Xiao is shy and lied about you two dating when they asked, and then you just lied too cus you are the best(I mean that with my whole heart).

but one day when you were out with some of your friends, and Xiao was streaming at home with Zhongli(in this story Xiao´s adoptive father) some girl suddenly came up to you and started yelling at you because apparently you took her "boyfriend" away, you and your friends got confused and just let her be after, she had yelled at you for about 2 min. a little later you called Xiao and explained what happened. and after Xiao told you that Zhongli got asked about your relationship while he was gone to get some food, and he forgot that you were keeping it a secret and even showed some photos of you kissing. when you got home/to a guilty Zhongli and Xiao trying his best to comfort him/you both forgave him and then properly announced it the next day, so you don´t have to worry about anyone finding you out. . . because they already know.

On-Stream: he is very shy so its mostly something like your beside him, in the background or sometimes sitting in his lap. he doesn´t pay that much attention to you but only because he thinks it's embarrassing and that stuff. he will also become a tomato if you kiss him on-stream, even though he will despise you for an hour or so its worth it.

Off-Stream: he becomes less shy and pays more attention to you, he also blushes more at your closeness because he doesn´t feel like he has to hold back his emotions. why? well, he´s with you the most wonderful y/n in the whole world. so yeah he behaves differently when you two are alone, and not with hundreds of people watching you.

he loves you, but he´s not always good at showing it.

Childe

How Chat Found Out: honestly I think would just tell them I they asked, but weirdly no one did. maybe it was because they didn´t want to interfere, and thought it was inappropriate. or they didn´t want any of the lovesick fans ruining your relationship. but either way, there was definitely someone else in the house, because they could sometimes hear someone talking in another room, and sometimes post and pans, I guess they just didn´t say anything about it.

but then one of his friends brought up how you were doing because you were sick the last time they talked to him. and he said you were doing better and then the chat flipped out with messages like "Who the f**k is y/n", "are you dating that y/n person", bratty fan girls raging because how dare him and so on. he then talked about you for the next 30 min, and the other person in the call almost fell asleep by how much he talked, so the chat now knows a lot about you. . . maybe a little too much.

On-Stream: he talks a lot, he always does, but now there are more topics about you when he talks all day. example: what you ate today, a pretty outfit you wore this week, some new accessories he got you today, and yadda yadda. he also has you sit on his lap or beside him in your own chair. and ofc he kisses you at least once every stream.

Off-Stream: I would say that he´s not much different, but maybe a little, for example: lets you talk more and now listens more than he talks, kisses you more and is always touching you(not in a sexual way).

he loves you more than anything and is not afraid to show it.

Venti

How Chat Found Out: honestly I think they already knew since he does "drunk" streams-streams with alcohol-and there was always someone beside him: you. you decided you would be bedside him for his safety and to make sure he doesn´t do anything too dumb. you were out of frame, so they couldn´t really see you, but Venti sometimes talked to you so they knew what you sounded like, and saw your hands once or twice. and they adored you, and by the way he talked about you and looked at you he did too. So naturally they thought that you were dating/or related by blood but he was too lovestruck when he looked at you.

but yeah one stream he maybe drank a little too much, and he maybe began talking to you while forgetting that he was live and called you some rather. . . sweet names and then passed out, so you carried him out of his room to make him sleep a bit. when you suddenly remembered that you forgot to turn off the stream and you didn´t even turn off the camera. meanwhile, the chat was freaking out because you were so freaking pretty. so you went in and turned the stream off.

On-Stream: you now sat a little closer and people could see at least half your body, you also there in more streams and not just those containing alcohol. you two didn't give that much affection but you sometimes kissed him here and there.

Off-Stream: besides being closer and kissing more often then I don´t think there are any other differences in behavior other than ofc you spend more time together and not just beside each other.

he loves you a lot and also loves to show it.

Scaramouche

How Chat Found Out: well basically he got into an argument with Childe typical of him. you were in a collab with them and playing a multi-player game when they started arguing over something/you didn´t know what bc you tried to ignore them, so you didn´t get a headache/and it got so heated you had to mute them so you and your viewers didn´t hear all their screaming and send a message to Scara to tell you when they were done. Therefore you didn´t hear Scara yell "Well at least I'm not single" (I forgot to say that here Childe is single in this part, oh well) and everybody was shocked, they thought that Childe would be the one to get a partner first. so while Scara and Childe were still arguing, the viewers started discussing who would want to date were dating him, they didn´t find anybody though.

a few days later they finally asked him instead of speculating about it, and he/with a straight face/"Oh. . . me and y/n are dating, you didn´t know?" and let's just say that chat flipped out even more because wtf you dating HIM of all people

On-Stream: he doesn´t show any affection like at all, the only thing is you forcing him to let you sit in his lap. but no kissing, sweet talk or anything like that, nope just the same grumpy Scaramouche. he got a little annoyed when you kissed him once while he played with some friends but forgave you. Oh, and you also collab more with each other.

Off-Stream: he is definitely a lot nicer, and is kinda soft for you/but only for you/. And he doesn’t look like he wants to k!ll someone all the time or sending death threats to anybody, so at least that's one thing going for ya.

he loves you, no matter if you annoy him from time to time.

Aether

How Chat Found Out: he was in a collab with a few people (Lumine, Venti, Xiao...), and Lumine wanted to annoy Aether, it´s a sibling thing. and therefore she brought up a lot of... not the best topics to talk about on stream, and she also brought up the fact that someone is living with him/you/and how that person is just sooo sweet and pretty/handsome. (because of course she´s been over and already knows that you two are dating) so she teased him by telling him about how he should totally date you, to try and get him to reveal it to the viewers. yes she could have just told them, but this was more fun for her.

he knew what she was doing but didn´t give in until Venti (actual best annoying b!tch) started to do it too, which Lumine loved Aether... not so much. so he eventually gave in and told them that, yes he was dating someone, Xiao then asked who and Lumine made him admit that it was you/the person he`s currently living with/and chat wanted ANSWERS so they asked him stuff like, who were you, where did you meet, when did you meet, how do you look, can we see this y/n, and so on. he answered the best he could while venti and Xiao were also asking questions. he eventually called you in and asked if it was ok for people to see you, and you said yes. (you cannot say no, understand) so you showed your face and you trended on teyvats twitter.

On-Stream: he definitely has you around him almost all the time, like sitting on his lap, beside him, or having you do something of your own in the background, you're properly also there if he does any cooking streams, vlogs or hangouts.

Off-Stream: he´s still has you around him, but now you´re a lot closer. that´s his way to show more love freely instead of keeping it down. because there's tons of people looking at you all the time, and sometimes he doesn´t want to share you.

he loves you very much, and wants you to be there with him at all time.

Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You unfortunately let Phoenix talk you into going to the Hard Deck on a night when it was swarming with sailors. And there's only so much that can be done to keep both Bradley and Jake safe during their special mission. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You knew from Bradley's emails that he was flying his mission today, you just weren't sure what time. You only seemed to be able to think about him and Jake, wondering what they were doing and if they were staying safe. 

Your wedding was less than two weeks away now, and you were leaving work early to drop off your permits with the county office. That was the last thing you had to do. Your plan was to finish writing your vows and making the photo collage this weekend. Then you'd truly be all set for the wedding, and one of Bradley's gifts would be complete. 

Now he just needed to make it back in time so you could pull off the most spectacular surprise of all time, with a little help from Mav.

When you got home, you played with Tramp and argued with Phoenix over text about whether or not you should go to the Hard Deck tonight. It just wasn't the same without Bradley there, but it was even worse now. You knew you were a little antsy, but you wouldn't even be able to tell anyone that it was because your wedding was coming up!

But she got you to agree to go if she picked you up on her way there. So now you were scrambling to get changed into some cutoff shorts, a cute top and your boat shoes before she arrived. You were still eating the sandwich you made and feeding Tramp his dinner when she let herself in the front door.

"You look cute," she said, giving you a look. "That looks like something you'd wear out with Bradley."

"I know," you said between bites of food. "I need to do laundry tomorrow."

Phoenix just sighed. "You sure you don't want to throw on a sweatshirt or one of his massive tees? There's a carrier docking like right now. The bar is going to be swarming with guys."

You just rolled your eyes at her. "This is hardly inappropriate, and it's like a million degrees outside." But now you understood why she was wearing jeans and a baggy shirt. The guys could be a bit relentless when there was a ship in port. "Hey, maybe I can get a free drink," you said with a shrug. 

But five minutes into your night, you realized you had made a mistake. 

"Why did you bring me here?" you growled at Phoenix as you waited in a massive crowd of people to get a beer. "I could be sitting in my backyard with a drink that I didn't have to physically fight someone for!"

But she just shrugged. "It's not as crowded by the pool table."

After a few more minutes, you groaned and told her, "I just want one fucking beer!"

The guy in front of you turned around and smiled at you, and then you heard him add another beer to his order with Penny. 

Your cheeks felt a little warm as he turned around and held a bottle out in your direction. "Here you go, gorgeous. One fucking beer."

You were flustered, not quite sure what to do. So you reached for it, and he pulled it back with a grin. "Just tell me your name first."

"I'm engaged," you responded with an eye roll.

"Wow, that's such a pretty name," he said with a laugh, and you had to keep yourself from laughing at how ridiculous this was becoming. 

"I can buy my own beer, but thanks anyway," you told him, trying to push past him to the bar while Nat shoved you from behind.

"You can have it. I don't even mind if you're engaged. I'm only off the carrier for the night," he told you with a smirk. Now that Nat was ordering her drink, you decided to take the free beer from this guy because he was being such an asshole. 

"Oh? You don't mind?" you asked with your best attempt at a charming smile. 

"Not at all. And my name's Will. You don't need to tell me yours, but I just wanted you to have something to scream later."

You just grimaced at him before putting the bottle to your lips and chugging the entire thing in front of him. He watched with interest as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand and leaned past him to slam the empty down on the bartop. 

"Well, thanks a lot, Will. The beer was delish. I'll just be going now," you told him, grabbing his hand and holding it up so you could give him an awkward high five. 

"I'll be at the pool table," you told Phoenix before turning on your heel and squeezing your way back through the crowd. But you realized Will was following you.

"Hey, wait up! Let's go outside!"

"Seriously?" you mumbled, not sure what else you needed to do to turn this man off to the idea of you. But that's when you spotted the guys playing pool. 

"Hey, come on," Fanboy called to you across the table to you. "I need a partner."

But you reached Coyote first and wrapped your arms around his waist right as he was saying hi to you. "Oh, hey," he said with a laugh, patting you on the back. "It's nice to see you, too."

"There's a guy," you mumbled, glancing over your shoulder. "He bought me a beer and I accepted it when I really shouldn't have. Oh shit, he's still coming! I thought he'd leave when he saw me with you."

"What guy?" Payback asked, tossing his pool cue down on the table and turning to look. 

Will stopped short when he saw you with Coyote, Payback, Fanboy and Bob. 

"I thought you were joking about being engaged," he said, holding his hands up. "Since you took the drink."

"She's not joking, man," Coyote said, keeping his arm around your shoulders. 

Will just shrugged and said, "Your girl's a tease," before he started to turn away.

But now Payback was starting to look like he wanted to punch the guy, and you felt terrible for letting this happen. 

"You want me to pay you for the beer? Fine," you said, digging in your pocket for some cash.

But Payback set down his glass and said in a very calm voice, "We'll consider the drink you bought her a peace offering. Now apologize for calling her a tease, and you can be on your way."

Will looked at him for a minute before turning to you and Coyote. "Sorry." And then he walked back into the crowd. 

Just then, Nat strolled up with four beer bottles in her hands. "You guys missed the funniest thing! She got a free drink from some guy who told her he wanted to fuck her even though she said she's engaged!"

You just cradled your head in your hands. "That's what he said to you?" Bob asked, going pink in the face. 

"Where the fuck did he go?" Payback snarled, cracking his knuckles. 

"Everyone calm down!" you said, pushing away the bottle Phoenix tried to give you and grabbing Payback's hand. "I'm never coming here when there's a carrier making a port of call ever again! And next time we go out, I'm wearing a trash bag."

But soon everyone went about their business again. And you were happy you didn't feel alone when Bradley and Jake were both gone. Fanboy handed you a pool cue, and you joined the game. 

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

Bradley and Jake woke up and did the exact same thing as each other all day long. They showered, ate breakfast, got some fresh air, went over their final flight briefings, ate lunch, and then dressed in their flight suits.

If you had told Bradley then that the day would change so dramatically for just one of them, he would have found it hard to believe. But that's that way things always seemed to go. 

"You ready?" he asked Jake who was still getting his helmet bag packed up. "What do you have in there anyway?"

"Mosty snacks," Jake said. "Maybe someday I'll have something a little bit more special inside. What's in yours?"

"Mostly snacks,' Bradley said with a laugh. "And a picture or two." He pulled out a printout of a selfie he had taken of you and him holding Tramp between the two of you in your backyard. Jake looked at it and shook his head with a grin. 

"You two thinking about having kids?" he asked, putting his helmet on. 

Bradley laughed. "If I had it my way, she would already be pregnant."

"Yeah," Jake replied, shaking his head. "I don't know why I even asked you that. Angel already told me you want kids right away."

Bradley put his helmet on as well, and they both started walking out to the airstrip. "I find it really disturbing that the two of you have 'girl talk' sessions."

Jake scoffed. "You don't seem to mind it when you put your foot in your mouth and I'm there to bail you out, Bradshaw."

Bradley really couldn't argue with that. He loaded into his F/A-18 and started on his safety checks, missing the days from last year when you were on the other end of his radio communications. But he checked in with some faceless voice in the tower, and he listened to Jake do the same. And soon they were airborne, launching off of catapults one and two with Bradley taking the lead position. 

Bradley checked in with the Comanche for a radar update, and then soon he and Jake were entering enemy airspace for a mission that should have been a quick in and out again. They would need to conserve all four of their missiles for the mission to be a success, so just knowing a dogfight scenario would come down to guns and flares had Bradley a little wary. 

"You all good?" he asked Jake, turning to see him over his right wing.

"All good."

And then it was time to attack, and Bradley fell back into the comfortable way that his mind seemed to take over and keep him calm without the rest of his emotions fighting for dominance. Was he thinking about you? Of course he was, but you were always at the back of his mind. Was he still focusing on what needed to be done with almost exact precision? Yes, because he wanted to stay alive. 

"Attack," he informed Jake at just the right moment, and then Jake split off to the right, behind a mountain range and out of sight. 

They were in constant radio communication as they each eliminated two perimeter targets, and then Bradley flew along a river while Jake flew parallel to the mountain range. This would put Bradley at the coastline first, but Jake should have been close enough for Bradley to see him. 

"Hey Hangman, how far?" 

"About twenty miles."

He had no idea how Jake had managed to fall so far behind, but he would make up twenty miles in less than two minutes. However, now Bradley couldn't see him, and he had to make a decision about lingering for his wingman or conserving his fuel. 

Bradley punched back on the throttle, easing his speed back. He kept checking his mirrors and turning around to look for the telltale glimmer of the dying sunlight on the canopy of Jake's aircraft. It wasn't easy to catch unless you were looking for it. 

But he waited, checking in with the carrier a few times, when finally, he saw what he hoped was Hangman.

"Out over the water," Jake told him. "Coming in hot."

"Copy," Bradley replied, throttling back up to his previous speed. He made sure both he and Jake were cleared for landing and then went down first, hooking the tow line, and waiting for the deck crew team to pull his aircraft safely to the side, making room for Jake to land. 

Bradley was just opening his canopy when he saw Jake buzz the tower, which was very unlike him. Then he heard Jake say, "Complete engine failure," through the radio in his helmet before it cut out. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Bradley asked the ground crew as he scrambled down the ladder. But everyone was frozen in place, awaiting instructions. The intercom started blaring over the deck, and Bradley ripped his helmet off just as Jake brought his jet around again.

It was too late to get the barricades ready if he was truly in full engine failure, and it was also impossible for Jake to get enough altitude to eject. 

"Fuck," Bradley whispered as Jake came down at a strange angle that made him cringe and cover his mouth. It sounded like he had lost both engines, and trying to get onto the deck was the only option. 

Bradley stood back with the deck crew as they raised an additional cable to try to catch the tail hook. But he knew the angle was too extreme, and Bradley watched in horror as Jake hit the deck a little too hard before skidding over both of the cable lines. Since he had no means to lift off and try for a second landing without his engines, everyone had to watch Jake's aircraft skid the length of the runway and then go careening into the Pacific Ocean. 

It felt like someone had sucker punched him, and Bradley sputtered for a few seconds before he started to make a run for the end of the carrier deck. There were crew members everywhere, and even more flooding out of the tower. The closer Bradley got to the end, he was finally able to see Jake's Super Hornet, half sunk in the water sideways. But it was too far away for Bradley to make out where exactly Jake was.

He turned around, trying to find someone who could make sense of what was happening, but it felt like everyone was moving in slow motion. Nobody was moving fast enough to get Jake out of the water before he drowned as the cockpit started taking on water. 

Bradley could hear himself screaming out questions that didn't quite make sense even to himself. But nobody was answering him. Before giving it too much thought, he started yanking at the laces of his boots and pulling them off one at a time. Then he was ripping off his gear and unzipping his flight suit, stripping down to just his compression shorts. 

The deck was about sixty feet above the water, which should only be marginally painful for Bradley, as long as he jumped straight. Otherwise he would just be creating more problems. But now Jake's aircraft was starting to sink, and he hadn't opened the canopy yet. 

So Bradley took a running jump into the freezing cold water to try to save his teammate, only partly because he knew you'd probably never forgive him if there was something he could have done but decided not to.

The water was ice cold, and all of Bradley's skin was burning from the impact as he was sloshed around by the waves as he tried to kick to resurface. He was gasping for air as soon as he broke the surface, and then he was off and swimming as fast as he could toward the F/A-18 that was mostly underwater. 

When he reached the cockpit, he could tell it was still sealed. But then he saw that Jake was fighting against the water pressure to get the canopy open. The further underwater the plane sank, the harder it would be to open it. Bradley took a deep breath and went under, pounding on the canopy until he had Jake's attention. He needed Jake to open all the latches, and then he could try to help him pull it open. 

Jake was scrambling with the last latch, and Bradley went back up for another breath of air. This time, when he went under, he planted his feet against the metal panel and pulled as Jake pushed. The cockpit immediately took on water as soon as they opened it just a few inches. He watched Jake get soaked and hit in the face with a wave of salt water, but then it became a little easier to pry the canopy open a few feet. 

As Jake started to squeeze through the opening, the Super Hornet started sinking in earnest. Bradley knew getting Jake to the surface in his gear would be the hardest part of this entire disaster, so he pushed himself up to the surface for one more good breath of air.

This time his lungs were burning as he dove down deeper, his hands connecting with some part of Jake's flight suit before he pushed off of the metal with both feet. He was kicking for everything he was worth, trying to keep a good hold on Jake's arm or leg. But Bradley's lungs were on fire. He could barely stand the pain. He was starting to lose his vision as he kicked harder and harder. He hoisted Jake over his head and pushed him to the surface, letting himself float up as his limbs gave out.

When Bradley felt the cold air hit his face, he opened his eyes, suddenly alert again. Jake's body was refusing to float from the weight of the soaking wet flight suit, and his eyes were closed. Bradley got his fingers on Jake's neck to find his pulse and made sure he still had a strong heartbeat, then he grabbed him under both armpits and kicked relentlessly to keep him above water. 

And thank god there was finally a diving crew jumping in now. Bradley kicked until he heard a woman telling him to stop, and that she had him while another diver had a hold on Jake. Bradley sank back into her grip, letting himself go boneless. And eventually they were all being raised back up to the deck where Bradley finally realized exactly how fucking freezing cold he was. 

Someone bundled him in blankets while he watched Jake's flight suit being cut off of him. "Oh, fuck," Bradley whispered, dropping to his knees on the airstrip and staring at the surreal scene in front of him. Jake's forehead was bleeding profusely and his lips were blue from the temperature of the water. But at least his eyes were open, and then he rolled onto his side and started coughing up water. 

Bradley sat quietly on the deck for a moment, but when a smile broke out on Jake's face, he couldn't help but smile too.

"Well, that fucking sucked," Jake sputtered as he rolled onto his back again. 

Bradley laughed. "You scared the shit out of me, man."

"You're insane," Jake said quietly. "Angel is going to be so mad."

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

You were exhausted and irritable by the time Phoenix dropped you back off at home. Your night had been terrible right off the bat. You shouldn't have accepted the beer from that guy just to try to get under his skin. You really hated guys like that, the ones who couldn't take the hint when a girl wasn't interested in them. 

You brushed your teeth and got changed for bed, leaving your glasses on your nightstand before lifting Tramp up into bed with you. Should you start a new pill pack? You had been looking at it sitting next to the bed for the past few days. If you didn't take it now, your cycle would be a mess if you changed your mind in a few days. But if you didn't take a pill and also didn't change your mind... well, you were ready now. 

You tossed your unopened birth control pills into your nightstand drawer, next to your new necklace charm and a stack of paper airplanes. Bradley had been telling you for months, ever since you thought you might have gotten pregnant in La Jolla, that he was ready when you were. That it was up to you. 

You took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. Sometimes the pain you felt from missing Bradley was as much physical as mental, and right now, your body was aching. It almost felt like you'd been out in the sun too long after getting bashed by ocean waves. You felt stiff and achy and uncomfortable. You were trying not to think about the fact that you had no idea what was going on with Bradley and Jake's mission. But you supposed no news was good news, at least as far as a deployment special mission was concerned. 

So you turned off your lamp and snuggled up with Tramp, spinning your engagement ring on your finger and reminding yourself that Bradley would be back soon with Jake in tow. Hopefully just in time for your perfect, surprise wedding. 

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

Too much excitement! Holy shit. And how's Bradley going to feel about Baby Girl discreetly going off birth control?

PART 17

@mak-32

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[jadedbirch]

Last year, shortly before Halloween, I got a call from one of my best friends, let's call him L. His husband was back in the hospital, his metastatic cancer out of control again. We've been fighting this fight for 3 previous years. I've known his husband, let's call him R, for over 20 years, because that's how long they've been together. 15 years my senior, R had been in many ways the big brother and the gay uncle I've always needed in my life. The previous year, when R was feeling better and my wife and I were working from Rome, L&R came to stay with us for a week. R said it was his bucket list trip and we went balls to the wall to make it the most awesome experience for him, including private tours of Hadrian's Villa and horse drawn carriage rides through Old Town Rome.

By October 2023, this Roman trip in October 2022 felt like a distant past. How could things have deteriorated so quickly? But that's metastatic cancer for you. It turns on a dime and devours without mercy.

We spent Thanksgiving 2023 in and out of the hospital so that we could spend more time with R and provide support for L. Even realizing it was hopeless, R asked me to give him Reiki. I hoped that by sharing energy healing with him, I was also able to share my love in some small, tangible way. I felt so helpless. I had spent the prior 3 years pulling strings with all my scientific and medical connections to get him the best possible care. Not trusting in conventional medicine, I became a certified energy healer and a Reiki Master FOR HIM. And after so much fighting, was it really going to be for nothing?

A few days after Thanksgiving R was discharged, but it wasn't because he was better. It was because there was nothing else the doctors could do for him. Not that this is what was said - they still spoke of continuing his radiation treatments, even though it became increasingly obvious that there was no longer a way to get his cancer under control. It had overrun all of his major organs, including the lungs and the liver.

I was in the middle of a conference for work when L called me again. He said R was raving and paranoid and had told L to get out of their house. That was the day I stopped praying for God to save him and started praying for him to die as quickly as possible.

It happened the night of December 8, 12 days before L's 45th birthday. We rushed to their house the next day. It was the middle of Channukah and L, who is also Jewish, lit the menorah, and we talked of how in Jewish tradition dying on a Holy Day was a sign of righteousness. R, who was a recovering Catholic most of his life, was certainly one of the most Righteous people I had ever known. He gave off real Mother Gaia vibes, turning every arid patch of land into a blossoming garden. He nurtured us as he would have nurtured his flowers.

So, why am I writing about all this now? My wife and I just went back to Rome and it was like a punch in the face. Being flooded with all those memories of R&L there with us back in 2022, how happy we were, how hopeful things seemed. How quickly it was gone. Now, with the holidays sneaking up on me, that means the 1st anniversary of R's death, and how impossible it will be to experience Halloween, Thanksgiving, Channukah, and Christmas without thinking of how we spent those holidays last year and why. I know grief is non-linear, it folds back on itself like an ourobouros at times, and I suppose this is one of those times, when I feel the loss of him most keenly. And yet, there are times when he doesn't feel gone at all, when I can hear his voice in my head so clearly, making awful, inappropriate, and often morbid jokes, like a court jester laughing at his own execution. And I know he's still with me, an interdimensional being, free of the bounds of his mortal coil, to be wherever he wants to be, and so many places at the same time because time and space mean nothing to a being of light. When you think of death that way, it seems silly to cry, and yet... I think this is also how we heal: we let the light in by letting the tears out.

So, fall and winter 2024 are going to be tough, I see. I guess I can only hope that fall and winter 2025 feel a little bit better, less sharp, less like a punch in the face.*

-------

*This has been written and shared as a form of therapy journaling. While this is personal, you are welcome to share it, if you find it helpful, as long as you do so in a respectful manner.

[here4tripitaka]

Chapter 58: Wukong chooses good over evil. By killing somebody.

Well, this chapter explained a lot. I’m finally up to speed with you all - the Six-Eared Macaque was Wukong’s alter ego. Now that I know, I’m seeing the last few chapters differently. So I want to circle back to this from last chapter:

Look, we’ve all had bad experiences with team work. I’m sure we’ve all had times when we’ve wanted to spit the dummy and just do the whole thing ourselves. So we can take all the credit, which we totally deserve… maybe. But apparently that is not the solution.

It is interesting that the macaque is killed, not just subdued. Not only is it killed, the entire species is permanently eradicated:

That is, Wukong’s decision to commit to ‘good’ is permanent; even irreversible. That is a deep level of commitment. It’s very different from the idea of having to fight temptation constantly - having to re-commit to choosing good every day, many times each day.

In other words, I was thinking this:

Whereas Wukong was thinking this:

I guess he’s got a point. If you’re ever going to reach true enlightenment, I guess you’ve got to quit your earthly bullshit once and for all.

So I guess it’s kind of like this:

And then you’re Gryffindor forever, no further effort required to stay away from the dark side. HOORAY! Except I think Wukong would be more like:

Interestingly, Tathagata’s description of the Six-Eared Macaque doesn’t make him sound inherently evil:

The footnote is cool:

Brave’s AI had a wildly different take on that saying:

I mean, Yu would know better than random AI, obviously. But the AI answer did make me curious. Alas, the search results seemed to have nothing to do with it.

Anyway, Wukong’s lack of sentimentality in killing the macaque is interesting. So is his reproach to Tathagata when Tathagata seems horrified:

Perhaps Wukong is right: perhaps bad traits within oneself should be squelched unflinchingly, without a backward glance. Perhaps compassion is an inappropriate reaction there, just as Tripitaka’s “compassion” is misplaced a lot of the time.

Still, I’m surprised that nobody punishes him or says he’s out of line for telling Tathagata of all beings what to do. Seems pretty cheeky.

The conflict between Wukong and Tripitaka is resolved by Tathagata and Guanyin telling Wukong and Tripitaka to pull their heads in. Tripitaka obeys without hesitation. I kind of love this about him.

Tripitaka and Wukong really are opposites in this way. Wukong is all backtalk, defiance and autonomy. Tripitaka is obedience and reverent submission personified.

Anyway, this results in everyone being best buds again:

Because no one needs to actually talk through their differences or resolve their feelings about, you know, whether it’s okay to murder people or not. They just need to be told by their superiors to get over it.

And now, in no particular order, honourable mentions from this week:

I loved the bureaucratic hand-writing at the Mountain of Perpetual Shade. “I’m not sure how to deal with this. Let me call my manager. Let me call ALL the managers!”

That moment where you want to be nice to your guests, cos they seem really fancy. But you also want them to leave before they smash up the furniture:

Flower showers!

These were referenced in in chapter 52, too:

I wish I knew what Yu was talking about. Even my best googling returns nothing. But it sure does sound pretty!

Last up, it just sank in that Guanyin has a cockatoo:

TIL cockatoos are not just Australian. And that Indonesian white cockatoos look much more regal than their Australian sulphur-crested cousins. 

Apparently:

They were quite popular in China during the Tang dynasty, a fact which in turn influenced the depictions of Guan Yin with a white parrot. The Fourth Crusade was also sealed between Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II and the Sultan of Babylon in 1229 with a gift of a white cockatoo.

Speaking of all things nature, did anyone notice that the macaque turned into a bee when it tried to escape? Alas, the macaque’s bee clearly wasn’t as impressive as Wukong’s bee transformation at the Scorpion Demon’s lair, because the macaque’s bee doesn’t get any poetry. Let’s honour it with this picture instead.

RIP, Evil Wukong!

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

---

Image credits: The usual spiel. The images above are either AI, or random pictures from the web, or a Frankenstein of both; some modified, some not. They are not original. The pre-existing images should turn up with reverse googling or have links embedded, but feel free to ask and I’ll dig up sources.

[pedge-stuff]

trailer reunion (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," as always. this one skews a little more m! and a little less gn!, apologies if that puts anyone off.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: 5 weeks is a long, long time.

——————————————————————————

Your leg won’t stop bouncing. It’s not your fault, really— it’s the Edmonton Airport’s, for having such a conveniently located Tim Hortons, right outside the baggage claim. After the 7-hour red eye from JFK, with the connection through Toronto, the coffee was necessary.

The caffeine isn’t entirely to blame, though. If the taxi wouldn’t stop going so fucking slow, maybe you’d settle down. But the traffic is unyielding, so the 20 minute drive to your heartfelt reunion is looking more like 45. Apparently, shutting part of the city down to film a TV show really screws up peoples’ commutes. You’d waited long enough (a month and six days, but who’s counting?), surely an extra half-hour won’t kill you. But in the taxi, the minutes seem to stretch into years.

The filming schedule for The Last of Us has been brutal. From what Pedro has told you, there was apparently a strain to film both the first and second episode back-to-back; something about using the same locations and exterior shots. For him, it has meant a marathon of shooting… the only downside to being the star of the show.

SNL’s new season was in full swing anyways, so you’d had plenty to keep you busy. Spent enough late nights at 30 Rock, after many a panicked call to the dog walker, that you barely had to inhabit his otherwise vacant condo. You talked every night, usually Facetiming before bed, but the distance was wearing on you both.

Now, the only thing in between you and your man is this fucking traffic jam.

Though this wasn’t a surprise visit— you’d booked the flight as soon as you’d realized the SNL hiatus week lined up with The Last of Us breaking to change locations for the next episode— you did have one trick up your sleeve. Or, more accurately, under your mask.

You’d been attempting to grow facial hair well before meeting Pedro, but it had been a sparse and largely unsuccessful endeavor until very recently. Your jawline had filled in between your sideburn and chin, albeit slightly patchy. You’d been hiding it over Facetime, opting for regular calls a bit more and hoping he wouldn’t notice. Not the craziest surprise, but still, your heart thrums at the prospect of finally sharing it with him.

Of course, once you arrive to set, the obstacles multiply.

Some college kid in a neon yellow vest stops you before you’ve even managed to remove your duffle from the trunk of the cab.

“Covid testing is this way, please follow me,” he insists tersely. Self-consciously, you adjust the KN95 strap around your ear.

The kid leads you to a tent, where two people in full white hazmat suits, complete with gloves and face shields, ask your name and instruct you to pull down your mask. (There’s a joke in there somewhere, about infection at a show about infected, but you get the sense it might be inappropriate to fool around here.)

Once swabbed and registered, you move to leave, scanning the exit for anyone who might be able to help you navigate onto set. But you are immediately blocked by a hazmat woman.

“You need to wait for the rapid to clear,” she insists, pointing to a row of folding chairs. “Fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes, after 5 weeks. Just fifteen minutes. You resign yourself to a seat by the door.

It’s 4pm. You were supposed to have arrived during a stop down between shots— timed so that Pedro would be in his trailer, and accessible, when you arrived. It feels like that window is physically, tangibly closing as you watch the second-hand tick slowly. 

 Initially, you’d been hesitant to join him on set at all, but he’d insisted you come meet his “second family.” You’d met several of his colleagues via Facetime, when he’d called you from his trailer. Bella, in particular, you’ve taken a liking to— they pepper you with whispered questions about transitioning and gripes about the gender binary when Pedro has been forced to hand over the phone.

You check your phone. Nothing from Pedro, although his little blue dot looks stationary when you pull up FindMyFriends. The clock ticks. There is a burning sting each time you blink— that third cup of coffee is wearing off, and the 5am wake-up this morning is starting to catch up to you. Really, all you want to do is go back to your partner’s hotel room, said partner in tow, curl up on the king-sized and fall asleep watching some West Wing rerun. (Maybe also shower together, and then some. You can keep yourself awake for that.)

Finally, finally, finally, the hazmat woman returns. “You’re clear,” she announces, handing you a green sticker to adhere on your jacket. You make it through the tent flap, heart in your throat with anticipation— 

But you have no fucking idea where to go.

A sea of white tents lays before you, stations with people doing things of varying levels of importance. A neon slip of paper points you towards set, but that’s not where you’re headed. Finally, past a corralled group of extras in some really disgusting mushroom prosthetics, and a tent full of picked-over lunch offerings, you spot some trailers in the distance.

And apparently, a stranger with a duffle bag walking quickly towards actors’ trailers, yields a quick security intervention.

In their defense, you definitely look like a crazy person. 

“Do you have a clearance list, or anything?” You beg, discretely craning your neck to see over the guard’s neck. The trailers are right there. There are only a few, it shouldn’t take any time at all to find Pedro. He’s within arm’s reach and yet he couldn’t possibly feel further away as the guard talks code into a very official-looking walkie talkie.

“Roger.” He looks down at you. “Listen, you gotta go man. It’s a clearance-only set, and they’ve got strict covid rules, so—”

The green sticker may or may not get shoved in the man’s face. There may or may not be angry tears threatening to ruin your cool.  “I got covid tested! I’m clean, they let me through. They had me on their list. I’m—”

From behind you, a familiar voice cuts you off. “With me, Robbie.”

You whip around.

Jaw? On the floor.

Pedro looks… really fucking old. His hair has been sprayed gray, wily and wind-swept; the beard, too, is much grayer than normal. It’s all part of a dirty-looking, artificially stained, mostly denim-based costume. You file away for later, how attracted you are to seeing him like this. Jesus Christ.

He looks old, but he is here, and he is grinning at you, and he’s here.

“Aw, shit.” The guard talks into the radio again. “86. Sorry about that.”

Easy to ignore him, though, as you’re preoccupied with staring at your man.

Before you can move to pounce on him, close the final four feet of distance between you, a well-manicure hand splays menacingly out at you.

“Don’t even think about it,” Coco warns. “We have fifteen minutes for touch-ups and I do not have time to fix everything.”

Pedro’s nose twitches, frowning at you. You reach down to hold his hand, but it is… apparently also covered in make-up, looking red, nasty and broken.

Sorry, he mouths dejectedly.

The inside of his trailer is familiar, though it looks a little smaller in-person than it appears on Facetime. A mirror and counter, a decently sized couch, a bathroom, a desk in the corner. Pedro settles in the make-up chair, smiling backwards at you in the mirror.

“Drop your stuff,” he insists.

Little touches of your life together pepper the room in a way that grips your heart a little. A framed picture on the desk, which you recognize from last summer; a particularly nice day in Prospect Park with the dogs, captured in a Polaroid snapped candid by a total stranger. You’d declined it, at first, assuming it was a weird fan thing. But they had insisted, leaving the picture behind and walking away. It was too lovely to leave.

The sweatshirt draped over the arm of the sofa is yours— an old NYU hoodie Pedro usually travels with. He claims it’s a ‘security blanket,’ and honestly, he might only be half-joking. A note you’d recently sent in a package (he’d accidentally left his whole box of contacts at home), taped up on the mirror, alongside a photo strip with Sarah from some gala a couple years back.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Pedro says quietly, watching you look around. “Take your mask off, baby, I’m assuming you cleared testing if you made it through the front.”

In your excitement to reunite, you almost forgot the little surprise. His jaw drops, into an awed smile. With the un-fake-injured hand, he reaches up to palm your cheek. Runs a hand up and down your jaw, scratching lightly along the new hair.

You turn enough to plant a kiss on the pulse point of Pedro’s wrist. Capture his hand with yours, against your face, to feel him for the first time in over a month.

“Oh! The oil is working,” Coco has paused, midway through spraying something silvery and chemical-smelling to Pedro’s temples. She had suggested it surreptitiously a few months back, off-handedly, and you’d been religiously using it since. The woman knows her shit.

Pedro continues to thumb at the new scruff, transfixed. His jaw muscle twitches.

“I’ve uh—” He stalls out. “Uh. Sorry. Dinner. Craig—”

You step backwards, pulling your hand down to hold in his lap, instead. He huffs.

“Craig wants to go to dinner tonight, since we’re wrapping in Edmonton. I guess there’s this restaurant he is insisting we have to try, it’s a whole thing. Big group. I didn’t give him an answer, in case you’re tired and wanna just head back to the hotel? But we can go, either way it’s fine, I figured…”

“Pedge,” you interrupt. “It’s all good. I’d be happy to go, it sounds fun.”

He exhales. “Thank god, because it’s like a spouse-thing, Neil and Craig’s wives are here.”

Your eyebrow quirks. “Spouse?”

Just to get a blush out of the man. You’d discussed it, of course, but had yet to make moves. Being marked soothed any sense of urgency— you were committed by flesh and blood, and that was ultimately more binding than a ring or ceremony. But, still.

“Joking, love." Despite the coffee, a yawn sneaks up on you. "I might crash on the couch for a bit, when you go back."

He glances at his phone. "We only have one more shot to get alts on. Neil swears we have a hard-out in an hour. Close your eyes, and I'll be right back."

— — — 

You didn't mean to actually fall asleep. Just lay there on your phone and zone out for a bit. But suddenly, you're waking up, to the feeling of a mouth on your own.

A familiar mouth. Warm, scruffy around the edges, a little pepperminty.

"We're done," Pedro whispers. "Coco says I can fuck up my makeup now."

When you open your eyes, he is hovering above you, grinning like a wolf. He's still in costume, though the denim overshirt is already half-unbuttoned.

"Are you done being gross?"

Sitting up, you find Bella in the doorway. They waste no time flinging themselves at the couch.

"In the flesh!" You both laugh.

"Shorter in person, huh?" Pedro is rewarded by a hearty shove from his costar, as he scrubs a makeup wipe across his face.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you can tell it's gotten dark outside in the time that you've been asleep. "Craig still insisting on dinner?"

"Mm. It's like fancy Mediterranean, I think."

"Fetaaaaa," Bella pumps the air. "Nice."

The evening stretches out before you— a few more obstacles between you and the hotel bed. But Pedro is here, in the flesh, and he's smiling at you in a way that forms the little crinkles beside his eyes, and you think maybe you can sit through a few hours of fancy dinner and small talk.

You've waited this long, anyways.

[13thdoctorposts]

I hate that RTD and Tennant and crew can't leave the show alone, that not only does RTD act like his formula is the only/best and not only is Tennant incapable of fucking stepping back from the role even after a grossly egotistical first run in the 00s, but a generation of fans only recognise/like Who when its in that image. And that hurts the show massively, it hurts other actors both in the sense that they aren't allowed from out of his fucking shadow and in that literal workplace abuse and media smear campaigns are excused when it happens around them.

Yeah, considering the most questionable things seem to happen under RTDs watch but the media never has anything to say negative about him compared to the level of shit levered at Moff but then even more so at Chibs, especially when Chibs seems like the most humble of the 3 is crazy.

I've read a lot of comments that Chibs wasnt good enough to Showrun as big a show as Doctor Who he didnt have the skills for it, but lucky RTD is back because he has the skills to do it, the cope from people is crazy!

Especially considering the shit show that seems to exist now, leaks, upon leaks, upon leaks, Ncuti's announcement almost instantly being over shadowed by Tennant's announcement, and the fact that Ncuti's happened on a red carpet... they would have known it was about to be leaked and couldn't have come up with something a bit better even if it was on a short deadline? Didn't really matter I guess Tennent coming back and being announced the following week seemed more important to them. The Bi-regeneration, which within the show lore I don't care about, do canon braking things, but of course that left the 14th Doctor out there doing his own thing with his own TARDIS completely overshadowing Ncuti, the number of comments I've seen about 15th not being the 'real' Doctor or being a clone Doctor etc. and for what to keep Tennent around off camera? So that people would question 15th legitimacy? To make sure Ncuti couldn't have his time alone to shine? Then we have the recent articles saying Millie was dropped/axed... with no evidence spread across the internet and front pages of papers across the UK saying she was dropped/axe for inappropriate behaviour with no elaboration, just trying to ruin a 19 year olds career with nothing to corroborate or evidence given and neither Bad Wolf or The BBC bothered to come out and clarify anything even though these stories also unofficially announced a new companion... one that even Mandip Gill said she has kindly messaged and Radio Times has spoken about, but Bad Wolf and The BBC haven't even announced her and given her that moment. And a side note to that is the new white companion got introduced with the TARDIS by the New Doctor as an official announcement the woman of colour companion got announced in a bunch of papers bad mouthing the former companion, guess like Ncuti not everyone gets to have the same treatment. So Chibs wasnt good enough to Showrun?! No one knew Jodies casting announcement that didnt get leaked, even Dan got his own video announcement as a new companion, nothing to do with his writing but Showrunning the show with the limited BBC budget he had even though he was able to keep his house in order for over 5 years while RTD, with his big BBC/Disney budget doesnt seem to keep anything in order, and Chibs is the one who supposedly doesnt have the skills to Showrun.

I think we really did need a brand new show runner and Tennent should have only returned for the 60th if it was a multi Doctor story, Multi, not as in just with 15 in the last ep but with previous Docs. All the 60th did was give the 10th Doctor a happy ending that was seriously weird for all the Doctors who came after him, so narratively was just a WTF, like you just told a companion you had feelings for them and couldn't settle down and 3 days later settle down with a friend from 1000 years ago (in the doctors time) talk about jarring to watch, the episodes were not celebratory in anyway, wasn't written any better then 13 era despite what we were told we would get and left 14 there so people could make countless videos and write countless blog posts about how 15 isnt legitimate. what a celebration!

I think we needed a brand new show runner, no having 10 and 14 to make Tennent even more special by putting him in every Doctor line up from now on twice and had Ncuti come in. I understand He couldn't film for the 60th, but they managed to put a Christmas Ep out with him 3 weeks later maybe instead of the 60th and Christmas ep it could have been a movie length ep with Ncuti so filming could have started later.

Thats a pretty long rant sorry. But in conclusion we should have just moved forwards instead of bothering to look back, and given the new actors the lime light in the way they deserved.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for not siding with my sister after her breakup?

My (20nb) sister (21 she/her) had a situationship end terribly last year. Every time we talk about it I say that I care about her and am sorry she's in pain, and that I also think she was out of line and it makes sense that her ex (20 they/them) is hurt. Obviously this isn't what you want to hear after a breakup, and she told me it feels like I'm not supporting her

Her big problem with her ex is 1. not communicating/lying to her generally and 2. hooking up with someone else at a party at our house right after they broke up. Sounds bad, is bad, totally sucks. But the context, and reasons I feel like I can't be ride or die with my sister are:

their relationship started and ended while Ex was in a manic episode with delusions and they were hospitalized for several weeks during their relationship. So things like inviting my sister to stay with them for the weekend to have sex, then saying they regretted it and aren't in a place to be involved with anyone, then hooking up with and saying they're in love with someone else right after sounds like. about right to me and I don't think it's fair/useful/accurate to treat it as a personal attack.

my sister is difficult to communicate with. I have had her friends ask me privately how to tell her she upset them because she can be so reactive, either snapping at them for accusing her of something or breaking down about how bad she feels. I'm not saying she doesn't deserve honesty, but when her ex says they were scared of how she would react if they were honest with her, I get it.

I think the way my sister handled the fallout was inappropriate if not cruel if not borderline abusive. When she confronted them over the phone about everything that happened and they started crying, my sister recorded the conversation to play to me and her friends and eventually sent it to their mom hoping she would agree with her and make my sisters ex send her stuff back. I get why she recorded it, given the history of lying and fear of being manipulated, but I just can't get behind pushing someone while they're audibly sobbing, ever. At that point just end the call and cut ties with them. My sister wasn't yelling which is why she claims it's unreasonable for them to have gotten so upset, but in my opinion the call was fucking scary.

anyways, I told my sister I can't be on her side 100% and if that's what she wants she should talk to other people about it, and she hasn't brought it up since. I know some people think you should be ride or die with people you love and let them learn from their mistakes themselves, and other people think part of loving someone is telling them when you think they're wrong. Curious what other people would do in this situation. SQUIDWARD <- so I can search for this later. sorry

What are these acronyms?

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

・❥・ You met him in a club and instantly linked. Not only did you rub your bodies against each other all night long, but you also made great conversation once outside. He didn't smoke, but he gladly lit up your cigarette.

・❥・ After that night, he was the first one to text you, asking if you were alright and if you were hangover. He got pretty hammered too, and you ended up exchanging hangover recipes all day.

・❥・ When the night came, he called you and you talked for hours, about your hobbies, your life plan, and the last movie you watched, and among all of those topics, he slipped in an invitation to a date.

・❥・ The first date goes well, and you get to talk about your common interests. All that horniness from the night before was gone as soon as you both were sober. Still, you find each other very attractive. He gets to hold your hands so smoothly, by swinging his arm a little before grabbing your hand, his fingers gently intertwining with yours.

・❥・ You smiled and told him he was adorable.

・❥・ Not only did you bond instantly on the first date, but he was also a gentleman. He paid for everything and asked if you were alright with physical contact, like hugging. How could you say no? You felt safe in those big, strong arms of his.

・❥・ Sex happens very fast because, c'mon, you both are sexy people and very into each other, and second, he is touch starved. He calls you to his place, puts on a movie, makes some popcorn, and then playful little fingers begin to slide underneath your shirt, tickling your hot skin.

・❥・ Moving on, after your first night together, he asked if you could stay, and you found it impossible to say no. He looked at you with those big blue eyes of his and you instantly melted.

・❥・ He cooked you a delicious breakfast, and then he drove you home.

・❥・ After that, you bonded even more, but because of his job, he couldn’t spend a lot of time with you. Like, he tried, he wished he could stay a whole week with you, but that was impossible. Still, you assured him that you would wait patiently for him. You call him during missions to make sure he is okay, even at inappropriate times, but he appreciates the gesture either way.

・❥・ You’re the first one to say "I love you" which shocks him completely. He loves you too, but he didn’t find the right moment to tell you. He wanted to say it during a romantic night, but this works too. Leon is very happy to hear that, and he begins to place small kisses all over your face as he pulls you closer to him.

・❥・ Speaking of his job, you were very excited when you heard that he worked for the government. It sounded so thrilling, but he assured you that there was nothing to be excited about. He doesn’t talk often about what he’s doing at work, and when he does, he is very vague about it.

・❥・ Visits to the shooting range are a must. In fact, you went on one during your first dates. He helps you with the aim, and he watches you proudly as you become better and better. He also teaches you how to fight with a knife.

・❥・ When it comes to spending time together, he is okay with PDA and won’t hesitate to hug and kiss his partner if he feels like it. Besides, he loves to watch you even if you do simple tasks like wash the dishes or play on your phone. He loves every inch of you, from head to toe, and he will tell you that any chance he gets.

・❥・ Leon likes to make eye contact with you because it feels…intimate? I don’t know how to explain it, he feels safe around you, he feels relaxed, and he feels like he can be himself. He is also very romantic and will surprise you with spontaneous dinner dates, holidays, or special nights.

・❥・ He is very clingy once he is with you due to the fact that he is mostly gone on missions. Leon would hug you from behind, snuggle on your lap while you were watching a movie, and also like to be a little spoon while sleeping.

・❥・ Overall, he is a sweet guy, and he feels lucky to have found you. He will treat you right like no one else has before. Just hug him tight and tell him how much you love him, because he desperately needs it.

Taglist: @rokurodokuro @lunarastrobabe @alewesker @shadow-wolf510 @skylar-todd @lunarastrobabe @ravenrune

I hope you liked these! Reblogs and comments are always welcomed, and if you want to request something my ask box is open ☺️

[elisysd]

The List – Maisie Peters

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

So can you talk? You know I'm stacking up Until the night I'm not enough And you're just someone else I disappoint

Monaco was becoming bearable to Lyanna. She wouldn’t say that she liked the city, but she was warming up to it. There was something special in its air. In the span of three weeks, she managed to make two new friends. Charles obviously, she was starting to see him as a friend more than an acquaintance, and Kika. They instantly clicked during the dinner at Charles’. They had so many things in common. They both loved fashion, old movies that no one knew about, and random facts about animals. They were both career oriented and pretty independent. They quickly exchanged their phone numbers and promised each other to stay in touch and to organize something if they both landed to be in the same place at the same time.

As for Pierre, she didn’t have much time to get to know him. Truth be told, he was intimidating to Lyanna. He had such a big persona. The way he carried himself with such confidence was something she admired. If only she could be a little more like that. But she knew that she could learn to be his friend, at some point. After all, they had a huge common point, as they were both French. Obviously, this brought them closer.

Lyanna also admired Kika and Pierre’s relationship. They were like two sides of the same coin. They were laughing at the same things, finishing each other sentences and had the exact same look on their faces whenever they were looking at each other. It was cute. When she shared her thoughts with Kika, the young woman had admitted that it was not that easy at the beginning. She got a lot of hate because of the age gap between them. She felt alone but Pierre had never given up on her. He could have, it could have been easier. The hate was strong and she knew that it had also been a difficult time from the Frenchman. But in the end the experience had only strengthened their feelings for each other. Somehow, she was glad that it happened this way. Now it was okay, she was still receiving nasty comments from time to time, but it was easier to manage.

Naturally Kika had asked to Lyanna if she had someone special in her life, to what the actress had confessed that she didn’t have the time to date. She wanted to focus on her career, that was the most important thing to her. She had been single for three years now, and she was fine with it. She was still learning to appreciate her own company.

“My last relationship ended up with my heart shattered in pieces and a psychotherapy that is still ongoing. I don’t want to go through that again. I’m fine with me being alone. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be.”

“Yeah obviously. But still, wouldn’t you like to have someone you know you’re going home to?” asked Kika.

“I don’t even know what home is. I’m always away. I’m renting an apartment in London that I barely occupy; you know. I’m living more in my suitcases than in my place. And it’s fine, I chose it. I don’t regret it.”

“As cliché as it’s going to sound, sometime home is where the heart is.” Kika murmured, her head naturally turning to Pierre.

That night, Lyanna fell asleep with a smile on her face. It had not happened for a long time.

The days passed again. Lyanna had started filming and it was going relatively well. A little better than she had expected. David continued to behave like a total moron and some of his remarks towards Lyanna were inappropriate, but the young woman didn't pay much attention to them. She knew how to put him in his place when he needed to be put in his place, and even if this sometimes weighed on her, it did not make the atmosphere on the set intolerable. But she was wary anyway, she couldn't shake off that sick feeling in her stomach every time she met his eyes when the cameras were off. 

But after a few weeks of working almost non-stop she finally had a break. She was not needed for the next three days and she was looking forward to a good sleep and doing nothing. On her way back she met Charles who was heading back from his evening run. Naturally, she asked him if he wanted to hang out, she had become accustomed to the presence of the driver in her life.

“Since you're free tomorrow, would you like to come with me so I can show you the most beautiful view of Monaco?” He offered her.

She accepted with great pleasure. However, what the Monegasque failed to mention was that he would be knocking on her door at dawn the next day.

“I knew you would have said no if I had told you that I would wake you up at 6am but trust me you won’t regret it.” He excused himself.

“Just like you oh so conveniently forgot to mention that we would have to walk. I hate exercising Charles!”

He just laughed while she tried to find in her bags and closet something appropriate for a hike. Once ready to go they headed to the underground parking lot to take Charles’ car. When they were both ready to go, Charles took a banana, a carton of juice and a croissant out of his backpack. No way was she going to walk on an empty stomach, he told her. The last thing he wanted was to have to walk back carrying her because she had a hypoglycemic episode.

“You would deserve that Leclerc. You woke me up to make me walk I don’t know for how long; you deserve all my grumpiness.” She told him.

And indeed, how grumpy she was. She decided to complain all the way. At some point Charles suspected that it was more to annoy him and tease him than real complains. For almost two hours they walked along the small footpath. Charles was ahead of Lyanna and had to stop often to check that the young woman was following him and had not turned back. When Lyanna wasn't stopping regularly to catch her breath, she was admiring the speed and ease with which Charles was moving.

Soon enough they finally reached their destination and Lyanna’s breath was taken away.

“Welcome to La Tête de Chien, the place where you can have the best view of Monaco” murmured Charles.

From where they were, they overlooked Monaco. They could see the Marina and its yachts and the mountains in the distance. The sun was not yet high in the sky and the air was breathable, so Lyanna understood better why Charles had insisted that they go there so early. There was something peaceful about this place.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” Lyanna said in awe.

Charles smiled gently and his hands in his pockets he approached the edge of the path and sat down on the small wall, motioning Lyanna to do the same. She looked like a little kid to him, trying to see everything all at once and absorbing every little detail.

“I want to stay here forever.”

Charles felt a sense of pride but didn’t mention it. There was something really beautiful about watching Lyanna truly appreciate Monaco for the first time and he didn’t want to break the magic of the moment. Instead he took his phone out and took a picture of the view before posting it as a story on Instagram. He also took a picture of is friend while she was not looking. He wanted to keep a trace of the instant.

Lyanna decided to do the same. It was time to announce that she was shooting a new movie and what better way to do it than by showing this beautiful view. A story with a quick caption would be enough, she didn’t need to do more. The marketing team of the movie would be a better job than her but still, she liked to keep people up to date with what she was working on.

What they both did not know at the moment and did not expect was that two simple stories would make everything go downhill.

Twenty-four hours after the hike, Lyanna received an unexpected call from her agent. Sophie never called her when she was shooting a movie and when her name popped out on Lyanna’s phone, she immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Do I have to sit for what you’re about to announce me?”

“Lya, good to hear you. And no, I don’t think so. But we have a B type problem on the way.”

A B type problem meant that it was related to Lyanna’s private life and that it was still under control. It was more like rumors and it didn’t involve the press. Yet. In that case it was a A type problem and signified that Lyanna’s privacy was going to be deeply impacted and turned into a shitshow. But still, B type was not good.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Do you by any chance, know the Ferrari racing driver Charles Leclerc?”

“How did you…”

“Someone on Twitter that is following both of you on Instagram pointed out that you posted the same landscapes at almost the same time. You can easily imagine wat they are deducing.”

Lyanna gulped. She didn’t imagine that something like that could happen. It was naive from her; she knew Charles was popular and she was too. Statistically, it was bound to happen that they would have followers in common.

“We are not dating, if it’s what you’re implying. We’re friends. He’s my neighbor actually, there’s nothing going on between us.” Justified Lyanna.

“You do what you want with who you want Lyanna, my job is not to monitor you. I’m just saying that for now it’s rumors, but you how fast things can escalate, I’m not going to teach you that. You do wat you want from this information. I’m just saying that he has a huge fanbase, he draws a lot of attention from the media, I checked him online. And I know how you feel about being involved with people like that.”

Another mistake that Lyanna did was that she never checked is social media presence. She should have, she could have but she never thought about it. She was not a social media person; it never crossed her mind to search Charles on Instagram or on Twitter or anywhere to be honest. She quickly typed his name on the Instagram search bar and almost choked when she saw the number of ten million followers. That was almost as much as her with her twelve million.

“Oh shit.”

“What do you want to do?”

She hesitated. A huge part of her valued er relationship with Charles. It made her feel good, she felt herself with him. Not Lyanna Michel, the actress, but just Lyanna. And it had been such a long time since that happened. But another part of her, smaller but more vicious could not help but reminder what happened the last time she was involved with someone famous and how it turned her life upside down and not in the good sense of the term.

From Charles’ end, it’s his little brother Arthur who taught him the rumor by texting him.

You didn’t tell me that you were involved with Carla’s favorite actress.

What do you mean??

Check Twitter.

And Charles did. And Charles first thought was, what did he do in a past life to be involved in two dating rumors in the span of a few weeks? His second thought was directed to Lyanna. He tried to call her but he went straight on her voicemail. He insisted two, three time but no answer. He texted her but no answers as well. He then went to her place. He knocked and waited but still, no answers. He insisted on knocking louder but nothing changed. And e knew she was there, he could hear noise from inside. She was shutting him out. And it made him upset.

“Lyanna, open the door. I know you’re in there.”

Still nothing but if she wanted to be stubborn, so was Charles. Two could play that game.

“I won’t leave until you open this door. I will knock and knock again until you talk to me. I know you saw Twitter. We have to talk about it Lyanna.”

Finally she opened. A little, just a crack but enough for Charles to slip through the gap left by the opening. And then she was there, observing him, not saying one thing. It was like all the progress he made with her; all the trust that took a little time be built vanished. All of his work reduced to nothing. She was acting like a scaredy cat. She didn’t say a word to him.

“We’re friends Lyanna. Don’t shut me out.” He began.

“You are more famous than what I thought.”

Charles didn’t understand what she meant by that and how it was a problem.

“I’m still Charles. Famous or not. I didn’t change between yesterday and today.”

“You’re drawing attention. People have expectations. People are talking.”

She was rambling and on the verge of a panic attack. Naturally Charles made a move toward her but was surprised when she backed down.

“Lyanna, it’s not because that we are both under the public eye that we can’t be friends. We are human and human have friends.”

“I don’t want famous ones. I want my peace and quiet. Going out with you was a mistake. Posting on social media was a beginner mistake. Now, people are making up stuff.”

“I don’t care about what people think.”

“I do care!” She yelled. “I do care about my privacy being displayed online as entertainment, I will care when the press sees that as an opportunity to twist the truth and creates a story that I have no control over.”

“You can’t always control everything. You have to trust people. You have to trust me. We are both impacted here. I don’t care about the rumors; I only care about the truth and both you and I know it. And it’s enough. I won’t hide Lyanna. I’m free to do whatever the hell I want to do, no matter what people think. You should do the same, you have to. This is why you accepted to play Sally, right?”

“Well excuse me, but in the equation, I never thought to add going out with a celebrity.”

“Stop giving me that celebrity image Lyanna! I never thought of myself as such nor did I ever think of you the same way!” He snapped. “And I could have. But I didn’t because it’s not fair. I know you and…”

“That’s the thing Charles.” She cut him “You think you know me, but you don’t. We have known each other for what, three maybe four weeks. You can’t pretend to know me. Just like I can’t pretend that I know you.”

“Let me get to know you then. Let me know why you’re acting this way, let me know why you’re so scared that you don’t let me come near you! I want to Lyanna. But you don’t let me.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to! Maybe because if I told you all the twisted things I have been through, you would not understand and then you would leave me alone.”

“Don’t make this decision for me. Let me understand.”

“And for what? People leave when someone baggage is too heavy. And then what will I have left? Nothing. I won’t take that risk.”

“You’re not being fair. You have you own demons to face, I get that and I want to be there for you. But I won’t if you don’t help me understand. I can’t be a good friend then.”

“You would not understand Charles! Why are you so stubborn?”

The conversation was starting to be heated. Both of them refusing to meet halfway.

“You are scared and you’re acting as a coward Lyanna. I don’t know what you went through but you can’t let past events dictate youre life and your choices.”

“As if you knew something about hard times Charles! You grew up here, in a privileged world. You live the perfect life. You are not going to make me believe that you know something about traumas. You don’t know what it means to lose people.”

That hurt Charles more than anything. Scared to say something that he would regret and because they were not both in any state to have a real and appeased conversation, he decided to leave. He looked at her one last time before closing the door.

========

taglist - if you want to be added let me know @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali

[etirabys]

I've been absent from tumblr for nine days because I was in Philly for a 800 person twitter con (whose constituents roughly map onto the rationalist tumblr diaspora, culturally). I was tweeting up a storm in conjunction with meeting twitter people irl and barely checked tumblr.

The con itself stretched over a long weekend, but I arrived four days early for preparties and stayed two days for postparties. I am on the plane right now, returning home. I got about twelve weeks of normal socializing in nine days. In the last four days I was taking small amounts of Ritalin to get through the day. That sounds bad, but that's how much I valued talking to weird internet people and having unique interactions that you cannot have outside of festivals.

The last iteration of this con last year had 300 attendees. At the time, I had 180 twitter followers, mostly from the times tumblr melted down and everyone including me advertised where they were elsewhere, as insurance. I munchkinned the hell out of socializing at the first con, got an additional 100 active followers that provided enough attention for a self-sustaining poasting reaction, and am at 2500 now.

I'm approximately the same person on twitter that I am on tumblr, except I don't post my erotica (my twitter followers skew more heavily male, so I'm less willing to be sexual) and I'm more strategic about seeking clout. I like to think I stay away from the clout-chasing things I find really gross (like having takes about politics nonstop, or starting beef), but I currently treat getting twitter followers as an enjoyable game.

It's nice to have a place where I'm explicitly seeking power, as it is nice to have a place (here on tumblr) where I'm explicitly not. My tentative plan is to hit 10-20K and then push the "trying" lever to off. I know a number of "microcelebrities" who get no stalkers or murder threats, but can go to just about any major city and have a place to crash, or people to show them around. That is what I want for myself.

I explain this not very flattering thing as context for what the con was like for me.

Most of the time, I exist socially the way most people do – avoiding risks and being discreet with dissent to keep the peace. I think people go to events like this one or Burning Man to get a freaking break from having to do this – as long as the con is full of reasonably mature and interesting people, the atmosphere becomes wonderful when they coordinate to drop the pretense for a week. I ran into a person who had a bad interaction with my acquaintance a few years ago, and told him I thought poorly of his actions but wanted to hear his side of the story. (The ensuing interaction was illuminating and pleasant.) A guy came up to me and observed that he'd made several conversational bids this year and last year, I had seemed to dislike this every time, and asked if I would prefer he never approach me again. We proceeded to have an extremely autistic debugging conversation, in front of several of his friends, about whether we should speak again in the future. (The solution: yes, he can try again, but pick a question from Askhole – don't inflict small talk on me.) I ran up to Famously Evil-Alien-Vibes-Having Economist Robin Hanson and said, "I have nothing to say to you in particular, but I find you interesting and I want to hang out," and then we argued for an hour about the fertility crisis. After asking for blessing to say something negative, I told a blogger whose blog post that I'd otherwise really liked that there had been one aspect that I found disingenuous. We had a good back and forth after I said this.

What I found so addictive about this con is that my popularity-seeking drive and my honesty-seeking drive – both of which I somewhat repress most of the time – were not only expressible, but in harmony. It is quite inappropriate to be super open and openly autistic in most social contexts. Here, I could say exactly what I meant, and as long as I delivered it in the right way, people would like me for it. The conversation where the guy started with "You don't seem to like me, should I never talk to you again?" should by most predictive measures have been awkward and unpleasant – but I got the sense, steadily, that he (and his friend who eventually joined in) liked me for how I was responding to him. All I had to do was, literally, just say what I really thought, and it somehow all worked out.