#there was a really good article that explained this really well and how so many people have and will lose jewish friends

[coffeelovinggayidiot]

Like all of tumblr, aparently: we 💜 love ✡️jews✡️ and we would 👊 punch nazis and we reblog five 5️⃣ different haukkah 🕎 posts a year we are like so progresive 💁✨️

Also all of tumblr, aparently: death to all jews 🚫✡️ if you're a jewish person who lives in IsNotRaEl then you're an evil 👺 bad jew and you deserve to be raped and murdered ☠️☠️ what? You fled to israel because we were murdering you by the millions??? Well you should have all died lol ☠️☠️ happy hanukkah btw 🕎

[porcupine-girl]

An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.

Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.

So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?

Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.

If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.

ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.

The second reason you shouldn't do it?

IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.

I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.

Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.

Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.

Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.

[omgellendean]

So, Sacha Baron Cohen recently endorsed Kamala Harris in a fittingly racist islamophobic manner, by bringing back his character Borat. Yes, it's 2024.

Anyway, here's a 2022 investigation of SBC's vile Zionism and connections to the USA and Israeli intelligence, as well as an insight into the role of the US-American cinema as a propaganda tool.

Article: https://www.mintpressnews.com/closer-scrutiny-reveals-close-state-power-sacha-baron-cohen-really/279355/

Archived link: https://archive.is/7dSTL

Some quotes:

When asked about the national security state’s role in shaping pop culture, the former intelligence officer [John Kiriakou] said that it is “far more cynical” than most people realize, explaining:

” There is a branch inside the CIA’s Office Of Public Affairs whose job is solely to work with Hollywood Studios. This is something that the FBI has been doing since the 1940s. They’ll cooperate and give the red carpet treatment to any Hollywood studio that’s willing to make the CIA look good. “ [...]

In the end, “Brüno’s” production company did interview someone they claimed was a terrorist (in the Letterman interview, Baron Cohen described the man as such eight times in the space of three minutes). However, the person in question – Palestinian grocer and NGO worker Ayman Abu Aita – vigorously denied he was a terrorist at all. He claimed that Baron Cohen had told him the interview would be about his peace activism and that his life and business had been destroyed as a result. Abu Aita sued for nearly $100 million. The case was settled for an undisclosed sum in 2012. [...]

Even from an early age, Sacha was reportedly obsessed with the Jewish state. “He was very Zionist, very involved in Habo,” recalled one friend, referring to Habonim Dror, a left-wing Zionist group of which he was a member. Others remembered him as “a very nerdy, very funny, Israel-oriented guy” who went to live on a kibbutz in his youth. He appears to idolize Shimon Peres, traveling to meet him in 2012 and sharing quotes from the former Israeli president on his social media accounts. Peres, of course, oversaw the genocide of Palestinians in 1948, attempted to sell nuclear weapons to Apartheid South Africa, and carried out the ethnic cleansing of the Galilee region. [...]

Unsurprisingly, Baron Cohen has also campaigned fiercely against the Boycott Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement, presenting it as viciously antisemitic. “Boycotting? Yeah, fantastic. As long as they are Jews, it is alright. I’m not a racist, but keep the Jews out,” he said, in an attempt to satirize their position. [...]

Much of the movie is actually spent “on location” in “Kazakhstan,” where Borat takes the viewer around an unimaginably poor-looking village, making fun of how backward “his people” are. There are no Western egos or ignorance being punctured here. In fact, it was shot in a gypsy encampment in Romania, where locals were paid around $3 each to be humiliated by a man who spoke to them in a language they did not understand. The villagers were told they were appearing in a sympathetic documentary highlighting their lives. “Borat” made over $262 million at the box office. [...]

The racism was further amplified with the 2020 release of “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm.” Within the first two minutes of the sequel, Borat informs us that Kazakhstan has canceled their traditional event, “the running of the Jew,” but fortunately his country still has Holocaust Remembrance Day, “when we commemorate our heroic soldiers who ran the camps.” Borat also received an award, which he stated will be “put in our national museum along with other treasure we have confiscated from Jews.” [...]

In actual fact, as many have pointed out, Kazakhstan was a haven for Jewish people during the Holocaust, not a perpetrator of it, saving thousands of Jewish lives by taking in people from Eastern Europe and other states of the U.S.S.R. Today, the country is commended by Jewish groups as a model of tolerance. It is also, notably, not a helplessly sexist nation; Save The Children ranked it higher than the United States in its list of best countries to grow up female.

This is a rather inconvenient truth for the Israeli state-building project Baron Cohen supports. Ironically, perhaps the most shocking and newsworthy case of exposing bigotry Baron Cohen has documented has never been revealed. While in character as Brüno in Jerusalem, Baron Cohen was beaten nearly to death by an enraged crowd of homophobic Israelis, who, angered by his camp and sacrilegious attire, started stoning him, on camera. Baron Cohen was reportedly “nearly killed.” Kiriakou told MintPress that Baron Cohen told him that a rabbi even spat on him. It was the only time in his career that he broke character and desperately yelled that he was an Israeli Jew, not a homosexual foreigner. The comedian fled for his life and found refuge in a nearby store bathroom. This footage has never seen the light of day. Perhaps it sends the “wrong” message.

[goingmerryfics]

How would Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and even Ace feel when they see their S/O wearing their clothes for the first time in the beginning of their relationship, like a shirt or a hat (if Luffy and Ace allow their s/o to wear it?)

S/O wearing their clothes for the first time - Luffy, Sanji, & Ace

Content: fluffy established relationship moments, they love you! Sanji is a perv but lovingly <3

Notes* hiiii so I can only do up to 3 characters in a request, and after thought I decided to go with these three :) I love Zoro but I couldn’t figure out what article of clothing to write about, so maybe part 2??

Luffy

If it were someone he didn’t know or wasn’t close to, Luffy would immediately feel like they were invading his personal space and demand that hat right back

Even with other crewmates, he only really lets Nami touch his hat and that’s only if need be

But when it comes to you, it’s different

He knows you’ll respect and keep it safe, but it’s a hard feeling to explain. He would trust his whole crew with his hat if need be, but he only wants you to have it

He doesn’t really understand the feeling, he just likes seeing you in it sometimes

Since his hat is so important to him, seeing his partner wear it would make him feel extremely happy that they recognize its meaning

It also solidifies the idea in his head that you’ll be at his side when he becomes the pirate king

For Luffy, love is about sharing his adventures and dreams. Seeing that hat on your head is the loudest declaration of love that he could ever know

Sanji

Sanji doesn’t have very many comfy clothes and he doesn’t have a hat you can wear, but there’s something about wearing his dress shirts to bed that’s extremely comfortable

Maybe it’s because they smell like his cologne, or because they’re baggy on you, but you always steal a clean one to shirt in

He loves it. 

He always ends up with a nosebleed when he sees your sleepy face in nothing but his shirt, draping past your thighs with just a small pair of shorts on under them

That view of your legs, how his shirt swallows you up

You could practically see the steam coming out of his nose while his face turns bright red, heated by the blush in his cheeks

He will definitely say a few pervy things without shame and Nami would probably have to shut him up

Ace

Ace is the one who puts the hat on your head more than you taking it to do so

He likes seeing you in something of his, and his hat is the one thing that he doesn’t mind sharing at all

If you can ignore the sweaty smell, you’re good. His Devil Fruit doesn’t help with that, being hot all the time and all

He makes a show out of it whenever he needs to protect you from anyone by taking off his hat and placing it on your head before diving into a fight

He’s had that hat ever since he set off, and he intends to wear it until the end of his journey. Seeing you in it as well just adds to his growing memories that he’s going to make along his journey

He doesn’t like it when you wear your own hats or hair pieces because he wants your head to be free just in case he feels the need to see you in his hat

It’s a symbol of their strong connection, and that you are truly part of his life, not just a passing moment

[illnessfaker]

tw: black+trans death

from the_yvesdropper on instagram:

our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.

he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.

Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.

one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :

"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"

(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)

Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.

there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother

there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)

judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:

I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...

[1d1195]

Most I

Read Most here | ~3.9k words

From me: I've been watching sad Instagram reels to feel something so I wanted to just write those feelings out.

Warnings: angsty af. Like you're gonna be sad in this part. It's only some fluff and a lot of love, but it's a lot of angst. Just like an absolute ton of it. Also you're supposed to envision Harry as a firefighter so you have to deal with that at the same time.

Summary: She was his soulmate when he didn’t believe in them. He was the love of her life–the one she planned to write about. But was soulmates going to be enough?

“Hi baby,” her giggle was infectious. The kind of laugh that sounded like music and felt like sunshine. He didn’t even need to see her to know there was a smile on her face. The very same smile that had been his favorite one to see since they were young. Only recently did it turn into the one that he loved so much. Well, at least he could admit how much he loved it openly. It made his own smile appear; just knowing when he turned around, he was going to see those pretty lips, her straight teeth (although when he envisioned it, he still remembered it before she had braces; teeth just slightly crooked at the cutest angle—but he would never tell her that). The word baby was for him. She was in his heart. So completely, so wholly. He loved the way the word baby sounded in her voice. How it left her smiling lips. He had dreamed about it for ages. Since he was old enough to name that she really was his crush.

But in the end, he didn’t even have to tell her he liked the name baby. It was just the one she chose.

Like she knew that’s what he wanted.

“Hey kitten,” he chuckled, smiling over his shoulder as she approached. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She nuzzled her face against his back. His shirt smelled so intoxicatingly good—like him. He was warm, perfect. He continued his conversation with Niall. Resting his hand on top of hers, settled on the front of his stomach, right above his belt. She stayed glued to him. Niall hardly paid any attention to her. Not in a mean way, of course; no, she was simply there because she was supposed to be. She was a permanent fixture—no, an extension of Harry’s body. When she wasn’t around, it was the first thing anyone asked. Where was she? Was she okay? She liked to be thought of as a package deal. Even her mom, for all her faults, always wondered where Harry was when he wasn’t there. It was like he was the oxygen in the air and when he wasn’t around it was hard for her to breathe.

She loved Harry. She was so in love with him, she thought you could take a sample of her blood and find love for him in the cells at a molecular level. Loved him beyond description. She didn’t think it was possible to love someone that much until she did. It was the stuff of dreams and romance novels. Every time he looked at her, she was overcome with the feeling like he never wanted to stop looking at her.

Harry truly was in love with her. Astronomically in love with her. He thought he would need to create a new unit of measurement just to explain how vast and deeply he loved her. But there wasn’t any justice for it. He simply loved her. Like his life depended on it. He loved her more than he could describe. More than anyone could ever really witness.

He encouraged all her dreams and ambitions throughout the years. When she wanted to be an astronaut he stayed up until three in the morning researching workout routines for them to practice in his backyard so he could help train her for a life on the space station. The week she wanted to be a baker was spent experimenting with flour and sugar. Failing miserably when they set the smoke alarm off so many times that his mum insisted that they take a break.

But it was her writing that he encouraged more than anything else.

He didn’t care what she chose to write. He read it all. Essays, articles, love stories, a grocery list turned into poetry when it came from her pen. He bought her notebooks upon notebooks for birthdays and Christmases. When she was feeling upset, he never brought her flowers; a new pen and notebook, that was all she needed.

People who didn’t know them well, said they were crazy. Falling in love at a young age like that. It wasn’t a good idea. Harry was going to leave for college a year before her and it seemed doomed before it started. But to her it didn’t matter. Because each of those notebooks that Harry never opened without her permission, never strayed from the page she let him read, all were inscribed on the inside front cover with a heart she had drawn and written their two names inside. Like she was going to write their very future into existence.

Yes, Harry loved her, but it was more than that. There wasn’t anyone sweeter. No one was prettier—inside or out. Her kindness was so touching he couldn’t believe someone like her was in love with him some days. It seemed unfair. If there was a perfect person, it was Harry. She was sure.

Harry didn’t believe in soulmates. But whatever she was and how she fit into his life, he was certain it was as close to a soulmate as he would ever get.

So finally, when Harry was finally exhausted from waiting, the day before his last year of school started—before he would be going off and applying to universities, he needed her to know. “You know I’m in love with you, right?” He asked, point-blank.

She smiled.

That gorgeous, perfect smile that melted him right to his core.

“Yes,” she whispered, and she opened one of the notebooks that were stacked beside her bed, all the ones from over the years that she had hidden exactly what she wanted on the inside front cover. “I know.”

Harry saw the hearts, their names.

She was his soulmate. Whether he liked it or not.

So, when they held hands in the school hallways, went to astronomy class together, and sat so close to one another at lunch and in study hall, no one really paid any mind to them. It seemed like most everyone already thought they were a couple, so their adorableness didn’t change how anyone perceived one another. No one noticed how in love Harry was with her because it seemed like nothing had changed at all.

No one cared that she loved Harry with every piece of her heart. Every part of her mind and soul because it seemed like she always had.

Well. 

Almost everyone.

*

Their love wasn’t without fault. Harry worried about the future, if she would grow tired of him because he wanted nothing more than to live in this town of theirs, the place where he met the love of his life and take care of it in thanks for bringing her to him.

“I can write from anywhere, Harry,” she reminded him. “Actually, I would go nowhere to be with you,” she smiled. It was corny. A poem she would probably jot down later before she fell asleep.

“Y’would go nowhere,” he repeated. That dimpled smile of his made her heartbeat twice as fast. His hands slid around her waist. It nearly made her shiver even though it wasn’t the first time he touched her, and it wouldn’t be the last.

She nodded; her hands linked behind his neck. His forehead pressed to hers and he brushed the tip of his nose against hers. His mouth felt like a magnet, and he was going to draw her in whether she wanted to be drawn in or not (but she did—oh, did she want). “Nowhere with you seems like heaven.”

“When y’write your first poetry book, are y’gonna dedicate it to me?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Yeah? Y’really gonna dedicate it t’nobody?”

“You’re not a nobody,” she rolled her eyes.

“M’not going anywhere. M’jus’ a nobody from nowhere.”

“Harry,” she giggled. “You’re not a nobody... this isn’t nowhere. You’re... everywhere. And you’ll always be my somebody,” she promised. 

Her lips were touching his. Not quite kissing, but as she nodded, they brushed in a half-kiss that she didn’t have enough words to adequately describe the feeling and how it would put any full kiss written by any other author to shame. “Think I want t’have your body all t’myself,” he pulled her closer, somehow. His body was so warm and when he smiled, his mouth curved upwards made her lips follow his. She couldn’t take it a moment longer. She sank into the kiss, feeling like the oxygen was almost too pure for her. Leaving her breathless but wanting more of it all the same.

He was her first kiss, her first poem, her first love, and her first everything. There wasn’t an inch of skin that hadn’t been touched by him. So really, the poems, the stories, the writing came naturally. Harry was her muse. There was nothing else to do but write.

*

But her own insecurities in her writing abilities and her appearance made her nervous that she would hold Harry back. 

Harry wanted to be a firefighter for their sweet little town; and she wasn’t oblivious, he had the body for it. She joked with him that he was going to sell thousands of dollars’ worth of calendars when the time came. “Are y’going t’be the one buying thousands of dollars’ worth of calendars?” He chuckled.

“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes. He kissed every inch of her face until she giggled more and more.

“Kitten?” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“M’gonna buy thousands of dollars’ worth of y’books.”

“With my calendar money?”

He tickled her until she squealed.

Harry was beautiful. More beautiful than she felt on most days, and it pained her sometimes to look in the mirror. But it always seemed like Harry knew when those days hit her hardest. “Do y’know you are the most beautiful person I know?” He whispered to her, as if it were a secret. But he would have shouted it from the rooftops. He showed all their friends the pictures he had taken of her and put them in their group chat and reminded them to tell her how pretty she looked. It made her giggle and shy from the attention. He would brush his fingers along her cheek, “So, so pretty,” he reminded her. “Should be illegal t’look at you for this long. Hogging all your beauty t’myself.”

But they always reassured one another that this was it. She was his soulmate—even when he didn’t believe in them. He was the love of her life—the one she planned to write about until she couldn’t physically write anymore.

It helped that people like Eleanor, Louis, Niall, Sarah, and Mitch, all assured her too that no one loved anyone as much as Harry loved her. Everyone loved them together. It wasn’t close to the amount they loved each other, but it was a good amount—one that suggested everyone knew they were meant for each other.

Almost everyone.

*

Lauren was the same year as she was. She was popular, smart, insanely beautiful. In another dimension, she was sure Harry was meant to be with Lauren. But they were a good pair. Lauren was kind and almost always worked with her on school projects. Arguably one of her closest friends outside her main group of friends she shared with Harry.

When they were out and about, Harry watched out for the girls in the group nearly as much as he watched out for the girl that made his heart stutter. He kept spare hair ties around his wrist for when drinking at parties got to be too much and he worried their hair would fall into the toilet. “Harry, can you come get Lo and I?” She asked once Harry picked up at the other end. It was Harry’s least favorite kind of call. The kind he knew Lauren had dragged her to a party that was too much. It made his heartbeat faster, worried beyond belief until he saw that sweet smile holding her friend’s hair back as she threw up in the bushes. “Can you help me get her into bed?” Of course he would. He would do anything she asked.

Harry noticed the way Lauren’s grip tightened around his neck as he held her and carefully placed her into bed. Out of the kindness of his heart, he ignored it. For Lauren’s sake, for his sake, and of course the sake of the pretty girl whose concern for her friend grew as she gathered items needed to cure a hangover. 

*

Lauren was in love with Harry. Had been for years. But it couldn’t even come close to her and her love for Harry. Not in any way, shape, or form. Lauren adored her friend, because how could she not? She was too sweet for words. But there was a part of her, a gnawing, growing part of her that wanted her friend out of the picture. She told herself all she needed was a chance, but it didn’t seem doable. They were inseparable. There was no way she could tear them apart. It was impossible.

Or was it?

*

“Harry?” Lauren asked. She was smiling at her phone again. The way she always did when Harry texted her. During the week, it was a little hard to see one another—even though Harry was commuting to the local university just a half hour drive away and they were still in town. So, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays were meant for dates and kisses and being so obsessed with one another, it would probably make anyone want to throw up.

Especially if they were jealous.

“Yeah, he’s out early. Wanted to know if we needed anything for our study session.”

Lauren felt a crack in her plan. They were really too sweet. Both of them.

“Do you ever… worry about Harry?” Lauren asked. 

She frowned. “Yeah, like every day.”

“No,” Lauren felt a stab of hatred for herself as she pressed. Of course, her friend would say something sickeningly kind like that. Of course, she worried about Harry. “No like… him at university.”

“What do you mean?” She asked innocently. The innocence in her voice was sincere. Genuinely asking her friend what she meant. Worry coated her face. Was there something she missed? Should she have been worrying about Harry more?

“Uh… just… forget it,” Lauren shook her head. “It’s stupid.”

That was going to be the end of it. If it was, maybe Harry would have fared better. Maybe it wouldn’t have led to this horrible moment. Left wondering and aching and wishing.

But she was nothing if not the best and most fantastic friend of all.

“Lo, are you sure? You seem… nervous.”

So, she continued. Planted the tiny seed of doubt. “It’s just… Harry’s been with you his whole life and he’s made it well known he won’t be leaving. So, do you ever feel like you should… let him be free to experience more? I don’t know… I just… I think I would worry if it were me.”

That was all it took.

The self-doubt was so easy. It made so much sense coming from her mouth. Harry did deserve more. She thought that on a regular normal day.

Staying close to home wasn’t going to make Harry’s life any richer. He wasn’t staying in a dorm. He wasn’t going to be studying abroad or anything like that. A degree in psychology to help as much as he humanly could. Training to be a firefighter the moment he finished his degree. He would love his life and living here. 

But what if he deserved more?

*

Harry’s house was like her second home. She rarely knocked—only if she was unsure if anyone was home. If the car was in the driveway, she made her way in.

Except today. Because today, Anne’s porch didn’t feel like home. The steps that made her trip and fall on Halloween when Harry tended to her like he planned on being a doctor. It solidified   the picture that he would be a fireman, an amazing one at that. But he would have been great at anything he set his mind to. The flower garden where she and Harry found a bird’s nest after a bad storm. The study sessions and poems that she scribbled on the porch where Anne would bring them lemonade and cookies.

It was one of her favorite places on earth.

But it wasn’t today.

She knocked.

Harry pulled the door out of the way. “Hey baby,” he pecked her cheek, oblivious to everything she felt and how she sounded. He was in his own happy world. Nothing was wrong. He wasn’t told that she was less when Harry needed more. He didn’t notice she knocked. That she hadn’t toed over the threshold. “How was school and work? Are y’tired?”

“Harry,” she whispered.

“I was thinking we could order in and watch a movie.”

It’s not fair.

“Harry,” she repeated.

“I think pizza—oh we had pizza two days ago. Maybe Chinese?”

It’s. Not. Fair.

“Harry.”

Finally, he noticed she hadn’t moved much beyond the doorway while he was rushing about. He turned to her finally. Noting her crestfallen face, the way her eyes were bloodshot, and she refused to look him in the eye.

“Hey, kitten,” he frowned and moved toward her. “S’matter, love?” He asked. “Did y’have a bad day? See a sad video?”

It pained her to no end that he knew her so well that a sad video could have been the culprit for her sadness on a normal day. But this wasn’t a normal day. This was the day she was going to break her own heart.

“I uh…” she swiped at her eye.

“Kitten, baby,” he cooed and reached for her arm gently, but she pulled away. “Hey, what—”

“I think I’m gonna…” her throat hurt. Like the words were burning her esophagus like they weren’t supposed to come out. “I want to go away,” she whispered. That was at least in part true. She did want to go away. Far, far away so she wouldn’t feel the hurt like she was in that moment. “For school.”

There was a pang of frustration that went through him. Not because he was mad at her. No, he was going to miss her, that was it. But her success, her happiness, all of it was more important than a few hundred miles. Or even thousands. Harry sighed, wiped a hand over his face, and nodded. It would be hard. Long distance would be really hard. “Alright, yeah. Course, baby. Whatever’s best for y’education.”

She shook her head trying to talk herself out of saying it. Or maybe into saying it. It seemed so wrong. So awful. It wasn’t worth it. All this hurt. She hadn’t even started really. She could stop right then. But she looked at him. Looked at his kind, worried face. The way he looked at her when she had a stomachache or a headache. When she smacked her head on the corner of a table she was cleaning under or when she fell off her bike when she was young. “It’s… it’s really far away, Harry,” she reminded him. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say it. Wouldn’t have to do the hard part. He would just know, he would agree.

“Yeah… yeah, it is. But s’okay,” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Just a minor hiccup. “I’ll come t’you every weekend. And there will be holidays. M’sure your mum will want y’home and—”

His poor heart. He’s got no idea I’m about to ruin everything.

“Harry,” she swallowed. “It’s… it’s too far,” it wasn’t even a whisper.

Harry frowning was her least favorite thing. It made it all so much harder. “Too far for what, kitten?” He asked almost rhetorically.

Her inhale of breath was shaky. Like it was hurting her to breathe. Everything hurt. Every inch of her body. Like she had been hit by a car or had fallen from a tree. It wasn’t fair. Harry was oxygen. He always had been for as long as she had known him. Now it was hurting her to be in the same room as him. “For us,” she croaked.

It felt like the whole world had shifted. Flipped on its axis. He remembered hearing about it in their astronomy class. She was sitting right beside him. He wanted to ask her if she remembered because it wasn’t supposed to be like that. It was supposed to happen gradually, in hundreds of thousands of years. No one was supposed to notice. But Harry did. He noticed immediately.

He scoffed and looked at her like she was insane. Like it was a mean joke. She wasn’t mean so where had this come from? The tears were a nice touch. Realistic even. It felt terrible to look at her in such a way, but surely it was only the natural reaction when someone he loved just caused the magnetic field to flip the entire globe. “Baby, what are y’saying?” He asked. It didn’t really make sense and so his only option was to question her. She covered her mouth releasing a sob that he hadn’t ever heard come from her mouth. Not when her childhood dog died. Not when her mom got in a scary car accident and started losing her mind just enough to make her anxious and worried. Not when she got a terrible grade on her math test or hurt her ankle in soccer. There wasn’t a moment he could compare it to. There was no grief she had ever felt that elicited such a sound. Harry reached for her again, instinctively, his hand touching her upper arm. She flinched. Like it stung.

Like it hurt.

In hindsight, it was the last time he touched her, and she flinched away.

“Baby,” his throat felt tight. Nothing in his brain was connecting—the pattern wasn’t something he had encountered before. She didn’t flinch at his touch. The words didn’t make sense. Not from her mouth. What did any of that mean? “Kitten…”

“I’m sorry Harry. It’s too much. We’re too young and…” she took a heaving breath. One that shook her whole body. The only thing Harry could think about was holding her. It didn’t matter that his heart was splintering into pieces. She was in pain, and he wanted to cure it and he wanted to hold her to do it. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry,” she left the doorway without another word. Not a single touch, nor kiss. When was the last time he kissed her? Oh, he was so lucky his class finished early, and it was the night before. A goodnight kiss when everything was happy and wonderful. He had an early day. So, he told her he loved her and went to bed. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Like the world had tipped and opened a blackhole to this terrible dimension.

“Harry?” Anne asked, coming from the kitchen. He was staring at the door. Where the love of his life had previously stood. Harry was only 19, but he was never surer of how she fit in his life. “Are you alright?”

“No, not at all,” he croaked, and the tears flooded his vision and down his face. There was nothing else to be said.

--

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[norrisjpg]

no surprises - ʟɴ⁴

based on this request from @jxnellat - thankyou lovely!!

in which, lando's bias opinion regarding the open red bull seat proves to stop a new friendship blossoming - until he proves himself wrong.

contains: unconscious bias, smallest bit of angst, shit-talking, carlos not to red bull (NOO), justice for logan because i give him an extra year in f2, mentions of christian horner (AH), social media, fluff, lando admitting he's wrong, mentions of struggles with mental health, williams not being shit.

platonic lando norris x named female character (senna hamilton)

...

...

carlos sainz jr's first choice was always going to be red bull. why wouldn't it be? the team was dominating the formula 1 world, and he was sure they wouldn't fuck him over like ferrari had many, many times.

but, tough luck for him.

before he could even think about getting into talks with christian and helmut - the world was rocked with the news of formula one's first female driver, moving to her dad's previous rival team.

senna hamilton might as well have broken the media. she was currently racing for williams alongside alex albon, but had no word from her superiors as to whether they were going to extend her contract with williams or whether there was any interest from mercedes.

so, she looked elsewhere.

and honestly, it came as a shock when her manager explained that christian horner wanted to arrange a meeting to discuss her seat for 2025 - due to sergio perez's less-than-admirable performance in the first half of the 2024 season.

either way, it was safe to say, that the hamilton family had given the world yet another reason to look forward to the 2025 season, and also given them all aneurysms in the process.

lando norris wasn't one for commenting on other driver's situations, but when it came to carlos sainz jr, he didn't hesistate as much as he usually would.

"so, lando, as we know you're good friends with carlos, and well, there's now one less team for him to go to - with senna going to red bull next year - can we just get your thoughts on that?" the blonde woman asked him, steadily holding the microphone out in front of him.

"well, obviously i think carlos deserves the best available seat possible, and that would have most likely been the red bull seat - so i think he should be in the red bull - but, i do think it will be interesting to see what senna can do in the red bull alongside max, but i'm just hoping that carlos can also get a good seat for next year." lando nodded, slightly stumbling over his words as his PR manager side-eyed him.

"okay, so you think that carlos deserves to be in the red bull?"

"yeah, i do - not that senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat, i'm sure she does, but i'm just going off how well i know each of them. obviously carlos and i have known each other since 2019, i've only known senna since 2022 and well, we don't really talk much." lando shrugged, pursing his lips.

"okay, thankyou lando." the woman nodded, before he and his PR manager headed back toward the mclaren hospitality.

his PR manager looked at the interviewer as the two walked away, she had a bad feeling about this.

meanwhile, the joyful tune of 'taste' by sabrina carpenter blasted out of senna's driver room in the mercedes garage, as the british girl bounced around her room, dancing to the song - when her PR manager, cameron, walked in.

"i've got some interesting news, sen."

...

well, as hard as lando tried not to give them that headline they so badly wanted - he somehow still did.

'senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat claims star formula 1 driver, lando norris.'

now, senna wasn't usually a confrontational person, but this was bang out of order, and she definitely didn't expect it from someone she didn't know that well. therefore, she requested a meeting with lando and his PR manager.

"so, would you like to explain this headline please?" senna asked as she slid a piece of paper over to him, the headline printed along with the article - she felt like she was interrogating someone in a james bond movie.

"what about it?" lando said gruffly, not entirely sure how to react to this situation.

"this is the equivalent of me saying you didn't deserve your win in miami, and then everyone agreeing with me, lando." she pursed her lips, earning a side-eye from her own manager.

"i don't really know what you want me to say?" the mclaren driver furrowed his eyebrows. "i never explicitly said that."

"i know, i watched the interview, but you might as well have." a soft scoff left her lips. "i don't actually care if you think i deserve the seat or not, i would just like you to undo this. i face enough prejudice and discrimination as it is, but i certainly didn't expect it from a fellow competitor, i'm disappointed quite frankly, lando."

her words hit like a tonne of fucking bricks - how could he be so fucking blind? lando thought that she'd asked for this meeting to have a go at him and tell him how wrong he was, but once again, he was wrong.

suddenly, he felt almost... sympathetic for her? yes, he also experienced a lot of hate online and he knew how much it affected his mental health - but if one of his competitors had said something like he had? he'd be a fucking wreck on the inside.

"oh, um, okay, yeah." he said, a little quieter as the realisations hit him. "yeah, i'm sorry, senna."

"i don't want an apology, lando." she shrugged, a small smile on her lips. "i just want this to go away."

...

INSTAGRAM

liked by georgerussell, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen33, and 421,294 others. sennahamilton ... strong weekend in belgium, another good haul of points with alex in P8 and myself in P7. time for a much needed break after a great first half of the season, see you all in zandvoort!!

view comments ...

alex_albon ... williams are washed who???

user1 ... double points!!!

user2 ... she better not get P7 in a red bull next year

↳ landonorris ... i'd like to see you try and finish a race?

↳ liked by sennahamilton

mercedesamgf1 ... things we love to see - roscoeee!!

user3 ... red bull are seriously desperate after the first half of the season, aren't they?

↳ sennahamilton ... why wouldn't you be desperate for me?

↳ liked by landonorris

landonorris has started following you!

sennahamilton has started following you!

...

"good morning miss hamilton." a recently familiar voice chimed in her ears, and then the unmistakable bright papaya hoodie appeared in her peripheral vision.

"good morning lando." she smiled, sounding a little tired of his recent apology antics.

"i have an urgent question for you." he said, falling into step with her as they walked past the haas hospitality.

"go on." she nodded, walking straight past the williams garage.

"would you be so kind as to accompany me back to monaco this evening after the race?"

"what?" she furrowed her eyebrows, stopping in her tracks.

"you live in monaco, correct?" lando stood in front of her, maybe a foot or so away from her.

"yes." senna nodded, wetting her lips briefly with her tongue.

"and i also live in monaco, i've got a few extra spaces on my jet, and was wondering if you'd like to join me." he explained. "it'd be me, you, max, daniel, charles, and carlos."

"ah, okay, i see." she nodded. "what's brought this on?"

"well, since we're friends now, i thought- well i don't really know i just wanted to know if you wanted to come with us or not."

"uhm... yeah, okay." senna knew she was a little unsure at this sudden gesture, but she went along with it regardless. "i'll let my dad know, but yeah, thanks."

"cool!" lando smiled, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as possible - he failed miserably. "uh, we're meeting at the airport at eight in the evening, and there'll be food on the plane."

"right, okay." she responded as they began to walk again. "not to sound fussy or anything, but the food... there won't be any fish, will there?"

"ew, of course not, i hate fish." he almost grimaced at the thought, but then his brain immediately clocked onto the fact that she sounded as equally as disgusted as him at the idea. "i'm assuming you don't like fish either?"

"i'd rather skin myself alive than eat fish, lando."

why hadn't he ever bothered to talk to her before?

...

INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, maxverstappen33, and 513,482 others.

sennahamilton ... the whole point of this post is so i can show everyone how weirdly adorable lando and daniel are together - that's all.

view comments ...

landonorris ... i fly you home and you call me weird? last time bitch

↳ sennahamilton ... woah i also called you adorable so shut up

↳ user1 ... lando and senna are friends??

maxverstappen33 ... how come you always say no to me when i ask you to fly with me??

↳ sennahamilton ... i don't want to be friends with you :)

↳ landonorris ... this means you want to be friends with me??

danielricciardo ... i have no recollection of taking those photos

user4 ... i feel as if we might see a group-grid holiday this summer

liked by sennahamilton and carlossainz55

...

"miss hamilton!" lando exclaimed loudly as he skipped up to her in the quiet airport - making her cheeks grow pink in embarrassment.

"lando, shut up." senna groaned, internally praying people around her hadn't noticed that it was, in fact, her and lando.

"sorry, where is your positive attitude?" he teased, a sharp edge of sarcasm to his voice.

"in the plane." she mumbled, dragging her pink suitcase behind her as they walked toward their gate together.

"come on, sen, we're going to disneyland!" the brit cheered, making an amused smile creep onto senna's lips, mostly the mclaren driver's child-like excitement. "actually, i have something to admit to you."

"oh god, go ahead."

"i never thought you didn't deserve the red bull seat, sen." he shrugged, his tone changing but a smile still on his face. "and if anything, i knew you deserved it - maybe more than carlos."

she laughed with a small wink, "i won't tell him you said that."

,,,

ah i actually really enjoyed writing this!! the social media parts especially, so maybe i'll start doing more social media fics??

[roturo]

Written All Over Your Face dick grayson x reader

→ summary: “Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (don't be dumb and wrap it), enemies to lovers, heroe!reader, breeding kink, bulge kink ¿?, not proof-read, possessive behavior, begging...

words: 2k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being a heroe wasn't easy. Neither being considered a competition for Nightwing. The Ex-Robin. The Dick Grayson.

Both being ¨super-heroes¨ with no powers brought many controversial articles between you two, not only at the Gotham-Batman times, but also now at the new Titans times.

You never thought seeing him again and his boyish smile and attitude. No wonder why he has many girls falling for him, not only as Nightwing, but also as his real identity. But this rough times between the heroes, made the destiny bringing you together again.

Both of you had mutual friends, and when Dawn invited you to meet the new Titans, and asked you for help to train them, you never thought of seeing him again, neither of both of you training teenage kids how to become high quality-trained super heroes.

¨Sorry.¨ Were the last words you heard from Dawn, when she left you with bird boy at the training room, giving you an apologetic smile.

God bless her natural charm and being the trusting friend she is because you couldn't hit her face right now with the rage you're feeling.

¨Hi!¨ A green-haired boy said to you, he had the same, maybe not as pretty, boyish smile like Grayson. ¨Hello...?¨

¨Gar.¨ He told you, not putting down the smile.

With just a nod and a not so happy smile, your eyes moved into a purple-haired girl, who just smiled at you and said her name. ¨Rachel.¨ She hit the boy next to her with her elbow, murmuring his name.

¨Jason.¨ He said, ¨Is this your girlfriend Dick? Because she's pretty good looking for a guy like you. But yeah, what she's doing here anyways?¨

Oh. Yeah. Bird boy. He's here.

¨Yeah Grayson, what’s going on?¨ Completely ignoring the fact Dick was about to answer Jason’s question with furrowed brows and you obviously knowing why you're here since Dawn explained you. ¨And no, i'm not his girlfriend.¨ You looked at Jason with a smile which changed into a fake smile when your eyes returned to Dick. ¨He wishes.¨ You said, your head turning to the side, obviously trying to make him angry. At which he only scoffed, knowing you well enough to know what you were trying. ¨Yeah number two, maybe we can just pass at me explaining you why you´re here.¨

Number two? He WISHES.

¨I know why am I here. I don´t know if your little brain remembers you made Dawn bring me here to help you train this kids.¨ You got closer to him, not breaking eye contact. ¨And number two? pfft, If you were number one, maybe you wouldn't have been replaced by new Robin here.¨

That got him exactly where you wanted him. He might seem like a strong and rough guy, but behind all that image of big boy, there’s nothing else but trauma.

You couldn’t help but notice how his jaw clenched at the small giggle Jason let when you mentioned Dick being replaced. Side-eyeing him, Jason stopped. Dick sighed trying to calm himself down.

“First. I didn’t know Dawn brought you here, she just told me about bringing the perfect person to help me train them, I was not expecting you.” You could tell he was still angry at the remark, so he wanted to correct you. “Second. I didn’t got replaced. I left Wayne by choice of mine.”

“And third. I’m not longer Robin.”

It got into a really tense vibe between you and Dick trying to kill each-other with just your eyes, everyone in silence, clearly uncomfortable at this new encounter.

“Can both of you stop eye-fucking eachother and can we finally start the training?” Jason said, trying to bring both of you back to earth.

That clearly caught both of your attention to what Jason said, clearly annoyed at the wrong remark of how both of you were looking at each-other. “We’re not “eye-fucking” each-other Jason, stop getting into other’s people conversations.” With that, Dick started grabbing everything for the training of today, moving on. Jason just raised his arms at the air, (like when they’re showing they’re not armed), with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

That brought a hard, and big laugh to your face, how could Jason say that? This kids don’t even respect their “leader” This was going to be a funny training.

After what seemed like 1 hour of training, and getting to know the kids, you could get which were the flaws and weaknesses. Maybe you couldn’t understand quite well Rachel’s powers, but some time will do it.

You asked Gar where you could sleep the night, since it was already getting late and your most likely staying some days here, you'll also need some extra clothes at least for today.

Gar told you to stay in the spare room next's to Dick's, great, what a nice neighbor you have. He also gave you some clothes you could use tonight, tomorrow you could go back to your place and get some clothes, your skincare.... and I guess your super-hero suit.

When going out of the bathroom after a long shower (which you deserved), Dick was standing there, shirtless, all sweaty, and just with some grey sweatpants on... he looks.... nice, yeah. Obviously annoyed but when he saw you, his face turned into... panic?

He doesn't know what's happening to him right now, might be stress he needs to get relieved, yeah, sure, that's the reason he feels his pants getting tighter every-second he keeps looking at you right now.

¨Are you okay bird-boy why´re you just static over here, I know you have problems, but this a new one.¨ You looked up and down at Dick's figure, obviously checking him out, not like he needs to find out, noticing he´s quite handsome, not like you would tell him also, he's hot, and he knows it.

¨That´s... That´s my shirt¨ Was all that Dick could say, well, shit.

You knew the t-shirt had a distinct laundry soap scent which remind you of someone, and maybe a pint of perfume, but who could blame you?! Might be Gar's or Jason's!

¨And those... are my boxers.¨ double shit.

You could see he was obviously blushed and you're sure you are too, but what a coincide. It's like you could hear Rachel, Gar and Jason's laughing at the both of you.

¨Well... do want me to give them back at you?¨ You broke the tense silence, trying to take your, his, shirt-off, completely forgetting you're in front of him, you needed to find a way out of here.

¨No, no, no, stop! Leave it there, then you give it back to me.¨ He assured you, grabbing your hands and pulling them down with your, his? t-shirt. ¨And it looks better on you anyways.¨ That's all he said before speed entering to the bath-room.

¨Hey Dick!, Wait.¨ To say you couldn't feel the wetness of your pussy going out and asking for some relief, would be considered a crime. ¨What do you ne-¨ You cut him off by entering the bath-room closing the door in the process, both of your lips connecting in a perfect symphony like they were made for each-other. He left a sudden whine at the loss of the soft touch of your lips.

¨Oh.¨ Was all he could say, you don't understand what happened to you, it wasn't definitely a normal behavior between you two. ¨Oh my god. I'm so sorry Dick, I don't know what happened to me, i'm-¨ You couldn't finish the last sentence when you felt his lips in yous again. A little hesitant this time, he stops, unsure of his actions, but he lose it all. ¨Do it again.¨

That's all he needed to continue kissing you, hands caressing you neck, positioning them as a chocking posture, later going to trace your jaw as he continues kissing you.

He started giving you kisses trailing down your chin, making you moan at the specific spot that made your legs shake, he started leaving love bites between your chest, later going down on you, pulling your t-shirt upwards, getting between your breasts and marking them as his.

¨Please Dick... Please make me feel good.¨ It´s like something got into him when his hands started roaming your body like crazy, pulling your shirt off, your hand reaching his sweatpants, and later his cock, noticing he has no underwear under neat it. ¨It's like you were ready for this bird-boy, ah!-¨ Even when you try to tease him, he finds a way to tease you back even in a better way, his fingers playing with your nipple had you giddy and trembling. ¨Be a good girl if you want me to fuck you.¨

All you could do is nod and start stroking his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum which made the stroking easier, playing with the head had him as a moaning mess.

“Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” He left a whiny moan at the lose of your touch.

“Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” He man-handled you, turning you around, making you see yourself at the mirror.

“…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.”  He ripped apart the boxers you were wearing. ¨Don't worry, I have plenty more.¨ Fuck him and his fucking pretty smile.

With no more waiting, he positioned himself, and started thrusting into you. He fits just right, and could touch all the places you couldn't reach.

“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” Even when he's fucking your brains out, he finds a way to be that kind and nice guy he is.

“O-Okay.”  Was all you could tell him, before & after some moans and whines from both of you, one specific thrust had you seeing stars.

His hand lingered down your tummy and he moaned at the bump he could feel, when he was going in and out with his thrusts. ¨Oh baby, I'm going to make you mine, fill you up.¨

He started playing with your clit, it had you crazy all the feelings of his body, his thrusts, him.

¨´You´re so good for me, all for me... 'm gonna' fill you up with my babies, 'm gonna make you a mommy, full of my cum every-day just to make sure.¨

That was all you needed to cum, with just some last thrusts he came inside you too, fulfilling his promise of keeping you full of his cum. He waited for you to calm down, before he inserted two of his fingers, recollecting the cum that was falling out your hole, inserting it inside you again, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

He got the tub ready, and got you inside it, in front of him while he cleaned your sore body while kissing it.

¨I can't believe it took me all this years to realize how I feel about you.¨ Your heart was anxious at how your confession would be received.

¨Doesn't take an idiot to figure out. You couldn't tell I was and I am in love with you because you were too busy trying to beat all that rivalry. I was in love the moment you kicked my ass for the first time.¨

You chuckled at the confession, and laid your head on his shoulder where you could see his dumb smirk. ¨You have that stupid smirk on your face again, can't you have a serious conversation with me?, can we fight again?¨

He laughed at your comment ¨Not a possible thing for me when you look this cute all marked by me and confessing your feelings for me.¨ The small pecks he started leaving on your neck and back had you giggling.

¨I love you.¨

¨I love you too, bird-boy.¨

[felassan]

Snippets. 🐺💜 DA:TV spoilers under cut.

When the Community Council played the game, in the working version they played, it sounds like when the 'no dying' mode was turned on, when the player's health gets low the screen turns red (but you don't then die, of course) [source]

Caitie of Ghildirthalen shared that everyone that she talked to from the Community Council really liked the gameplay. "They were all into it, none of us had any complaints about how they were doing the gameplay, we all thought it was solid" [source]

The Lighthouse isn't literally an actual lighthouse by the sea. It's in the Crossroads. It's "like a bubble in the Crossroads, kind of like what Morrigan brings you to" in DA:I. "It's its own little bubble, it's not actually the Crossroads, it's like its own little bubble of reality." "It's not really in the Fade, but it kinda is, but it's kinda not". "It's so cool, I loved it so much [...] it's very comfy". It used to belong to Solas and "as you walk around there, you will see, like, stuff, that kinda shows what Solas has been up to for the past couple years" [source]

"They say in the [Game Informer cover] article that [The Lighthouse] like looks gaudy, and stuff, and like it does, in like an ancient elven way, but it's not like going to grandma's house which has that 2005 Tuscan kitchen feel." It sounds like there are a lot of frescos made by Solas in there. "It's kind of like, sad, too, 'cause it's a little bit like, ancient elven bachelor pad that he's been too busy to really keep up with it". "I think it's the coolest hub [in a DA game] by far" [source]

After the gameplay reveal video, Solas essentially gets trapped in the new prison he was trying to build for Ghil and Elgar'nan. "I don't think they explain it well in the [GI cover] article what happens, like, lore-wise, like how this connection between Solas and Rook one, works, and then two, like, how it's done. [...] From that [Community Council participation and talking to devs], I have a better understanding of this link, and I do think the explanation given [in-game] is good, and is satisfying to me. They're just not explaining it well in the article, I do think they give a better reason in the game"[source]

Caitie shared that she doesn't know why marketing for the game keeps saying/trying to say that Rook isn't a Chosen One as a talking point. "Maybe [Rook] wasn't chosen, [they] just happened to be there, but now there is a connection there, like [they] can't just leave, [they] have that strange Solas connection that nobody else has". "In this game Rook was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, or right place right time, depending on how you look at it, and it could have been anyone in that scene, that's kind've what they're trying to say" [source]

Photomode is something the devs expressed to Community Council that they want to include in the game [source]

User: "many of us would love to see cosplay kits again of the new companions. Just thought to throw that out into the ether" Trick: "Agreed! Definitely bring that up to official BioWare accounts. I think it's a great idea." [source]

John: "at this point my brain is about 70% DATV and 30% everything else" [source]

User: "I keep looking at that horn [Taash's blue one], thinking: 1. What -is- it made of?" Karin Weekes-West: "If only we knew!" [source] User: "If this turns out to be some high-value gemstone or crafting mat, I can't promise I'll be able to suppress certain... larcenous urges." Karin: "How very Lords of Fortune of you! :D <3 It really is SO PRETTY, isn’t it? Our art team is so good. :)" [source]

User: "I need to know if Rook gets their own room CAN WE DECORATE" Carly: ":^)" [source]

User: "anyway they [Neve and Harding] are both in this concept art. next to each other even. this has to mean they are both alive after the prologue. right? right???" Carly: ":^)" [source]

Kala: "the overall UI is very nice" [source]

Kala: "I remember the sliders [in CC] having pretty good range tbh, so probably pretty tall and pretty short" [source]

Kala: "I can't wait to learn who the VAs for Rook are! I know one and I know people will be really excited for this person to join the Dragon Age family 🤫" [source]

[drdemonprince]

Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

[bitter-me]

Hey ! I have seen you write for Twisted Wonderland ?👀

Can I ask for Ignihyde or Diasomnia students with a boy [friend or not, you choose] who is like Sherlock (from BBC if you have watch) ? I just know he will try to understand how overblot work and why there is a lot of overblot-

Ignore it if you don't want to write it ! And have a good day ! Or night ? Idk when you will see it (if you see it)-

The Game is On!

Ignihyde Students | M. Reader as Sherlock Holmes [BBC]

----------

"I’m not a psychopath, Anderson. I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research!"

----------

The day [Name] Holmes has entered Night Raven College was the day Azul had become even richer.

Ever wonder if your crush likes you back? Or maybe you wanted to know yourself better? Or perhaps you wanted to know if your partner's cheating on you? Well look no further than the Mostro Lounge!

Being stranded in a different universe, [Name] merely sees it as an opportunity to gain more information and funding. This whole new world is so much more interesting than his previously awfully predictable world.

Which then led to Ignihyde's Housewarden's first encounter with the high-functioning sociopath. At first Idia found it skeptical that someone could have the ability to see right through everything and anything. Until [Name] had read him like an open book in their first meeting.

To say that Idia was traumatized by the sudden exposure is an understatement. But after calming down, he can't help but think on how similarly [Name] acts with one of the characters in the anime he watched. Cough Moriarty the Patriot cough. But nonetheless, the two of them soon bonded and became close with one another.

Before long, [Name] was introduced to Ortho and his interest was immediately peeked by Idia's "younger brother."

Although school life is as boring as his world's. It's just the same thing but with magic and stuff... but all of a sudden these things called "Overblot" showed up? Oh he got to know what this is about right away!

----------

Idia Shroud

"Um.."

"Shh."

He instantly shut up the moment he was hushed by the other. Just when he decided to leave his room and visit the Ramshackle for a change. Idia was greeted by a sight he never thought he would ever see in his life! [Name] pacing around his room with two hands together placed underneath his chin and the elephant in the room.. His room was filled with papers and stings attracted on the walls!

Idia thought that his room is messy but this is just on another level!

Newspapers, printed out articles, [Name] own illedgiment handwriting, etc. Every single wall is covered in it with some strings connecting some parts.

This thing. This "Overblot."

Why did it happen? Is it because of intense emotions? Negative or positive? Does it really matter? And why do they show up in a blob, ink-like thing? The stain on the gems of their pens? Is this common? Or are they something one has to go through once in their lives? Like puberty? So many questions. So little time.

Idia could only sit and watch as [Name] drove himself insane. He knew that S.T.Y.X. is also trying to figure this whole Overblot out too. But seeing how unhinged [Name]'s acting while also trying to figure out the same thing his family is doing is just concerning. It drove Idia to the edge just how... [Name]'s acting..

There's a thin line between inquiry and insanity. And [Name] is using that line like a freaking jump rope!

----------

Ortho Shroud

[Platonic]

The day the high-functioning sociopath saw Ortho. His interest is peeked. A robot? That acts like a human? Even back in his world this would've taken years maybe even centuries to accomplish with how incompetent the human kind is! Therefore, [Name] would ask Ortho multiple questions within the span of a minute. I live for Sherlock's rapid fire deductions and questioning.

And how [Name] loved it when Ortho answered each and every question without him needing to repeat himself nor explain it. Ortho's happy to help whenever he can! He was so happy that his brother made a friend!

Whenever he saw [Name] pacing around like a mad man. Ortho tries to help by either reducing [Name]'s burden and helping him to make deductions and hypotheses or by simply bringing snacks and reminding him to rest.

While Idia looks at [Name] with a nervous and unsure expression. Ortho steps in by suggesting that maybe he should rest. "[Name] maybe you should take a nap! If you do, your productivity will go up by 10℅ or maybe even more! And since you're energized, you could be more focused and—"

"I'll rest once I've figured this out."

Oh boy. This is going to be a long day for the three of them huh..

[bcacstuff]

Don't you think Sam should defend her

Well, I can imagine people would think as a first reaction he should, or should say something about it. But then again, if he does, I'm sure the fans who do these stupid things, would immediately see it as him confirming some sort of relationship or something. You know how this fandom, or better said the deranged ones in it are.

He can't do right in this case, he's between a rock and a hard place. We're talking about 2 women, should he address the entire fandom for this? And with that give it perhaps unwanted and more attention then it deserves? What will be the result of that, you might ask yourself. Of course we know there's much more going on in this fandom, but it isn't reserved solely for this fandom:

I've received a link a while back, and still have this article open on one of my tabs in the browser. I had the intention to answer the Anon that sent it to me a few weeks ago, but as there were so many things going on, I didn't want it to get buried by the many other posts.

It's this article:

There are some really good parts in it that can be translated one on one for this fandom, even though the artists in this article are musicians. Already in the first paragraphs you can read:

This summer, norms of pop flipped when musicians started telling off their fans. Leading the pack was Chappell Roan, the 26-year-old breakout star of 2024. In a statement on Instagram, she outlined the “too many nonconsensual physical and social interactions” she had had with fans, including people hassling her family and friends.

An expert view on it:

“The relationship between fans and artists is a power balance,” says Dr Lucy Bennett, a lecturer in journalism, media and culture at Cardiff University. “Sometimes the power can tip back and forth.” Fandom, she explains, is a deeply emotional thing where people can feel a sense of home and belonging. It can lead to an intense connection to the music, something only heightened by the access to artists provided by social media. “But the problem that we have is how fans can forge a direct connection when they’re one among potentially millions that follow the artist. Those artists can’t reach out to every fan online. But to those who aren’t noticed, how does this make them feel? And what lengths may some fans go to get noticed?”

A former deranged fan's experience

Someone who has grappled with this themselves is Emily, a 26-year-old Taylor Swift fan from Idaho. Emily, who asked to be referred to under a pseudonym for fear of being doxed, was once a dedicated Swiftie, spending thousands of dollars on merchandise and concert tickets. During the Lover era of 2019, however, she began to see contradictions in Swift’s image and found her sudden embrace of politics inauthentic and calculated. “I was upset because it seemed the person I thought she was wasn’t real,” she says. She was also put off by the growing toxicity among a fandom that no longer felt like a community. Prior to Swift’s hit album 1989, “Taylor had said that she wasn’t going to interact with fans on social media because one fan might feel more important than the other,” she says. But Swift began doing secret live sessions for fans, found via fan accounts online. “It did exactly what she thought that might,” Emily says. “Fans were suddenly fighting with each other saying, ‘You’re not good enough because you don’t obsess with her on the level I do, or ‘You don’t have as much merch as I do and you don’t know every song like I do.’ It was kind of gross.” Emily became so distraught that she would vent to her friends about her disappointment. “When I look back it now,” she says, “it’s like, wow. I was really deranged. Taylor Swift doesn’t know who the hell I am. She doesn’t care what I think. This is actually a me problem. I needed to step back and realise that.” She cites social media and the 24/7 access to information about Swift as one reason why she became so obsessed with the singer’s life. “I had to get some hobbies outside of discussing Taylor Alison Swift.”

And again the expert's view as an end conclusion

To realign the relationship between fans and artists, Bennett believes that musicians may need to step away from sharing so much of their lives on social media. “But it’s really important that they speak up if they feel that they’re experiencing unacceptable behaviour from the fans,” she adds.

It's a really good read, so if you're interested and have a bit of time, I'd recommend reading the whole article. There is no easy answer to this phenomena or to your question Anon.

PS. To Anon sending me the link a few weeks ago, thank you 🧡. You were right, I found this interesting. I'm sorry it took so long to post it, but it deserves all the attention.

[strangebiology]

Do nonfiction authors really need social media to get a book deal?

I asked successful agents and trad signed authors how important social media is to getting book contracts. Here are some data and quotes about how they responded on my Authors of Nonfiction Books in Progress Substack! Read if you want more details and caveats to the data, as well as my story and why I like social media anyway.

TLDR: Social media is NOT necessary!

Here's an editorial explaining why. But for nonfiction non-memoir, you have to do something to prove that you know what you’re talking about, as you'll see repeated over and over in my Substack article. That proof could be social media.

Trad publishing is very hard and competitive, and sometimes even unfair. But the people who say "you can't get a deal unless you know someone or are TikTok famous" are flat-out wrong. (Also, you can become a person who knows someone by joining communities, attending conferences...hell, you can DM me if you have writing experience and I might hook you up with my agent. There, now you know someone and have no excuse. I've successfully hooked up 4 people I knew from communities I'm in, or something like that, not because they're my family members. I have said "come back when your query and/or experience are better" to 3 people, and 2 people didn't get the deal despite having good pitches and my recommendation, it just wasn't a match.)

Unfortunately, I think some aspiring authors are looking for an excuse, as many of these people don't often tend their writing craft. That is a much bigger indicator as to whether you'll get a deal, even if the trad world still isn't a perfect meritocracy.

Remember, I LOVE social media and have over 300,000 followers across platforms. I mostly do recommend that writers and journalists should use it! I find it sad, even, that there are so many writers with no audiences, when there are huge social audiences who would love to hear what these writers have to say! (But there are downsides too, so it's not ideal for all. Check out the pros and cons for science journalists being on TikTok.)

If you’d like to share your experience with trad publishing and social media (or lack of social media!), I still look at the survey results, so feel free to fill it out here and I may share the results in the future. Some questions are optional and of course I redact the (optional, anyway) emails:

[amysgiantbees]

I just find it strange that the developers chose to rewrite Wyll. I love new Wyll I think he's fantastic and I don't necessarily want the previous version. But I find it bizarre that there was somehow so much negative feedback about old Wyll that they risked completely rewriting him.

Now I love all the companions. This is not Dragon Age Orgins where I debate recruiting Ogrun every time. But I just find it strange that the reason given was Wyll's negative feedback when most of the other characters have been unpopular too. Like Lae'zel is infamously unlikable to a great many people.

People love to bully Gale and there's even lines in game that call him pathetic. The DEV's in the IGN interview even agreed that Gale killing himself can be a good ending, " I really liked Gale setting off the bomb with the brain, and actually that felt like the right ending to me.

AS: In many ways it is, yeah." Which feels problematic to say the least, like I get supporting player choices but suicide is never the "right" way to do things.

Or even I'm pretty sure I remember Neil Newbon talking about how he was sure a lot of players had killed Astarion permanently in their playthroughs.

Then there are people being absolute freaks on the internet about Halsin all because he's polyamorous.

Like these characters are wildly popular too but they certainly have their haters. So why did they lack such confidence with Wyll? The best source I could find on early access Wyll is this article https://gamerant.com/baldurs-gate-3-wyll-early-access-story-change-karlach-explained/. It says that this change was made to make his story stronger, make him more unique, and give him more complicated emotional ties. Unless he was really basic before they did not accomplish this. He has less content so his story lacks the depth the other's do. It's also inconsistent, with you being able to put him off being a duke by telling him he'll be too power hungry which he has never been. His emotional ties are rushed. He never really confronts his father, having the tadpole do most of the work and never hashing out his feelings beyond that he's fine.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. According to the article he was meant to have a dark side like Shadowheart "According to the panel, depending on whether players allow him to go through with killing Karlach, he will become a radically different companion instead of if she is recruited." Which would have been cool but if they didn't have enough time to do that maybe they should have tweaked what they had.

Plus, according to the article in early access he was "a straightforward hero who develops a violent side regarding his patron or goblins." This article too show's that his early approval matches current Wyll pretty well except for dealing with Aunty Ethel and more goblin hate https://fextralife.com/baldurs-gate-3-early-access-companions-guide-wyll/.

I just don't know I just find it so frustrating that it was the black main character they chose to tweak and ran out of time to complete his story and still haven't fixed it with a patch. And in the IGN interview the devs kind of sounded like there wouldn't be anymore patches and it's just frustrating. Wyll deserves just as much content as any one else.

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestions, smut love bombing, occasionally sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 20 - ‘You’re Mine’

“C’mere yeah? Don’t be silly.” Trent pulled you towards him in a direction away from the bar and other people.

“I’m not, it’s just still weird sometimes for me that’s all. I don’t think you understand.” You said in much more of a serious tone than he was expecting, shaking your head refusing to look him in the eyes.

“You actually upset right now?” He probed as his brows furrowed confused that you’d be jealous over him taking a picture with a fan especially after he just told you all the things he had planned to do with you once you got to the bedroom. It didn’t usually phase you. You’d oblige and happily take the photos for fans knowing you’d be the one sleeping next to him but seeing women touch him in front of you so blatantly stirred something inside you a lot more recently.

“No, but if random men just stopped me for pictures while I was out with you and had their hands all over me… would you be happy with that?” You snapped back spelling out the reality of why this did bother you a little. Imagining the roles reversed sent Trent’s brain spinning.

“They’re not all over me...” He paused looking into your eyes trying to assess if a fight was unfolding. “Men aren’t fucking touching you. That’s not happening is it? These girls… nothing. Don’t worry about it. It’s me and you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your hair trying to calm this conversation down. You didn’t want to fight back, explain to him that ultimately it was starting to bother you how anonymous you were. A fight wasn’t a good idea in the middle of his tournament, out with other people, away from home, drinks involved it just wouldn’t end well so you bit your tongue.

England was hosting a party for the families before the knockout stages began that night and the boys were granted a few days off. You weren’t nervous per say but it definitely stressed you out thinking about potential conversations about your relationship. How vocal was Trent about you to his teammates? You were uneasy at the thought and uncertainty. For some reason the anonymity of you to the public was starting not to sit right. It was some comfort that Jobe was also with you, it kind of diluted the fact you were walking into an event with two players that had curated quite a cult following online, knowing the team followed them religiously with cameras. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that helpful to come with Jobe because he was falling into their wake, he just was too young for people’s focus to land appropriately yet but it was coming in slowly. Despite your apprehension, your worries were pushed aside as you eased through conversations, Trent kept you close. He did talk about you to everyone. Everyone on the team knew of you. You knew he was proud to call you his, you knew he was just saving you from a media onslaught. It was later into the evening when you really let your angst earlier go and just relaxed. Everyone there had the same worries about The Sun or Mail running wild with stories about them, you weren’t something special. Sure, maybe you and Trent teed up perfectly for a sleazy article but it was fine, you were overthinking things and you were there to support T no matter what it meant it created for you.

Bukaya Saka had picked up a big following on TikTok the second he created an account… as expected. He was filming asking the team questions throughout the tournament. One big topic he was posting a lot of was asking what players were listening to. He was running about the party tonight filming another video only now including friends and family. His iPhone flash on, asking if you could name one song for the tournament, what it would be. Harmless.

“Saks!” You said with a big smile his phone’s flash illuminating every pore on your face as you stood next to Jude stopping your conversation about something mundane momentarily.

“What we saying? Song of the tourney?” Bukaya asked with the light still absolutely blinding you in the dark night. You gave an answer but he wasn’t happy with it.

“Nah, not having that. You two need time apart, you can’t pick the same song as him, give me another one.” He pushed implying that you had seemingly chosen the same song Trent had.

“Just in general? An all time song or a new one right now?” You peppered him with questions trying to stall to think of a good answer.

“Why’d you need so much information, cuz, answer it.” He sighed in frustration, throwing his head back dramatically.

“I feel like you’ll be disappointed regardless!” You over exaggeratedly complained.

“You've been catching up though you know… little Dave, you love Professor X” Jude squeezed your shoulder butting into the video laughing. “You've been doing good learning the UK classics.” He was teasing you but it was also true. So many boys in your life; Jude, Marcel, George, Curtis… they all enlisted and pressed so hard to ‘teach’ you the staples you had to know.

“Just give me something, America.” Bukaya teased still pushing for you to give a better answer.

“Fine, fine. I’ll give an artist I listen to a lot. Even been approved in my house.” You giggled at how silly this all was. “I’ll give you a New Yorker too, any Dusty Locane. I think you’ll like it.” You answered knowing you had introduced Trent as well and he was down.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll take it.” He was finally satisfied.

“Now get that light of my face, please! I’m blind now.” You pushed your hand to cover his camera but the video still caught your voice. The video cut to someone else’s answers. He posted an edited version of the conversation to make it shorter but the TikTok definitely included you and people were certainly interested in your cameo.

‘Tell me right now who that American girl is with?’

‘Bro Alexander-Arnold’s girl being American threw me’

‘The way my head spun when she opened her mouth’

‘American is leng, who’s is that?’

‘Dusty Locane was a wild shout. What a gyal’

Comments came piling in about your accent, nationality, leading to people pulling videos of times they’d met Trent trying to see if they’d be able to make out your voice in the background when you had been there. It wasn’t a secret but it shook people up trying to work out how the two of you connected and make a story out of it. In turn and in usual fashion, articles began to bloom across the internet…

‘Transatlantic Trent, The England star is apparently dating an American!’

‘Everything we know about the secret relationship the Liverpool and England player has with a mystery American’

‘She’s American! More about the England international player’s girlfriend revealed’

‘Who is the American at the at The Euro’s cozied up with Trent Alexander-Arnold?’

You sat with Dianne watching the semifinal. The whole tournament seemed to buzz by and you lost track of the days hiding in a hotel, barely able to see Trent, hounded by media, stories continually published making up BS about you. They didn’t even have your name yet they wrote like you’d personally given them an autobiography.

“Going to be alright.” Dianne confirmed her hand coming to pat your thigh. “There’s always a flare up and then it’ll die out.”

“I’m sorry.” You softly said watching the opposition goalie make an easy save.

“For what? Being you? You didn’t do anything hun. People love to fuss over little things. We’ll be alright.” She tried to console you.

“I don’t want to make things more difficult for him.” You shyly said worrying about the implications. The way the internet obsession may be weighing on Trent.

“You’re not. The only thing he cares about is if you’re okay. Yeah, hun?” Still trying to reassure you.

“Yeah.” You repeated her words but not with the same conviction or belief. You winced as Trent made a tackle, the balling going out of play. You sat on your hands to try to stop the nerves. You could feel the rise of your rings under your body. Your legs were shaking when the whistle finally blew for half time. People milled about but you and Dianne stayed put. The media had really ramped up the attention on you but true to the plan, you, Trent, his family, and his PR team gave nada.

You sat quiet as the last seconds of the match ran out and England advanced. The Euro’s Final arrived and you felt absolutely sick. It ended with an England defeat. You felt like your heart had shattered seeing the boy you loved more than anything in the world lay on the pitch in front of you crushed. His jersey pulled over his head. The look on his face had you trying to hold back tears. You were distraught for your T.

It was not a fun night. Trent’s sadness progressed into him just being pissed. You had never really seen him as angry as he was right now. You sat quietly holding onto his hand in the car. Not a word exchanged when his head fell on your shoulder with a sigh. You could see his skin pinch together as he shut his eyes tight.

“I know…” you whispered, pressing your lips to his temple, brushing your hand over his head.

“I…I c-can’t…” he couldn’t get words out. It was so silent back at the hotel. He had to go on the flight with the team, stand in unity despite the loss so you couldn’t even travel home together. You were set to reunite back at your house. You just felt lost anxiously awaiting until he arrived. You didn’t want to ask any specifics about times, you had a general idea from his updates but his texting was sparse. When he did come into the house it was like the sun disappeared. It felt dark, it felt cold, it didn’t feel like your happy home when he was like this. You let him mope about waiting for him to come to you… and he eventually did. You sat on the couch on your phone, a silly romcom on tv in the background.

“What’d you watching…” he asked but it was so meek it barely sounded like him.

“Nothing, you want to watch something?” You asked your heart beating out of your chest, almost jumping at the chance to talk to him. You started to get up when he moved towards you and slumped onto the cushions and you.

“Nah, can you stay here please.” His arms wrapped around your waist, his head coming lay in your lap, his body curled to fit on the couch. You only hummed. He just shut his eyes and layed there quiet while you scratched his back. Your nails gliding up his spine and back down again, tracing little shapes and figures under his t-shirt.

“I missed you.” He mumbled into the material of your sweats nuzzling his face in further, his arms wrapping tighter around you.

“Yeah? I missed you too, baby.” You cooed, trying to suppress the smile. You knew it wasn’t good he was this upset but knowing he needed you felt good.

“So much” he said so quietly you barely could hear it.

Ever since Trent got back from the tournament he was so clingy. He followed you around like a puppy dog. Asking to cuddle with you constantly and you let him. You were headed on your holiday soon and you wondered if he was going to be like this the whole trip. If the loss would really shake the group. You all agreed to go regardless but the thought of Jude and Trent sitting in silence refusing to go to the beach because they’d be in a bad mood burned in your brain. Your best friend was flying in tomorrow and you were happy but you were simultaneously plagued with worry about T.

You found yourself on the couch, another film, your fingers rubbing his back gently again, scratching his skin softly. He’d shiver every once in a while sensitive to the touch, groan or mumble something incoherent about the plot, and then dig deeper in your lap. You just smiled, placing kisses on him. As it got later in the afternoon though you’d had enough, it was time to move your bodies, you had to pack, you needed to eat a vegetable and not just lay in this feeling of defeat. He couldn’t do this to himself.

“Baby… Pretty boy, come on.” You cooed, taking your hand off his back and dragging it up to brush over his raised cheekbone.

“No.” It sounded a little harsh and you felt his body tense but he relaxed a millisecond later. “Wanna lay on you.” He whined trying to nestle further into you which at this point was physically impossible.

“Come on, yeah? Let’s go eat some lunch out in the garden, get some air. Hmm?” You sang to him pressing soft kisses all over his face.

“Baby..” he grabbed at you with little strength.

“So needy T.” You giggled teasing him. He only hummed at your hands running back over his shoulders, your nails dragging down his back. “Gonna get up for me?”

“Mmmhmm.” He hummed pulling himself up but leaned his whole body weight onto you immediately again. His head resting on your shoulder. His hands caressed over your body before coming to play with the little clovers of your Van Cleef necklace.

“You remember when I gave you this?” He whispered. His eyes looked so sad it hurt your heart.

“Of course.” You smiled at the memory sitting in his then foreign room at the time in his mum's house. He looped his finger under the necklace and pulled a little causing your head and neck to move, your lips coming to now press against his.

“I want that back.” He murmured.

“What?” You asked unsure what he meant. What did he want back?

“The nativity that I could just keep you all to myself. Like the whole world wouldn’t become as infatuated with you as I am.” He babbled a little bit, his lips ghosting over yours.

“They’re not… but I understand the sentiment. I’m always just yours though, T….” You paused anxiously rethinking if it was true. “Right?”

“Mine, baby. Want everything with you. Hmm?” A smile formed on his face. You hadn’t seen it in awhile. It was hard to forget how beautiful it was but everytime it still amazed you just how pretty he was.

“Everything?” A smile pulled on your lips now seeing his.

“Yeah, everything.” He confirmed pulling you in for another kiss. Before you could get to the kitchen to even consider what you might have for lunch, Trent pulled you onto his lap. You straddled him, your legs on both sides of him, his face directly in front of yours.

“You know I want everything with you… the lot. Build a whole life with you.” He talked slowly as you watched his lips move. You draped your hands around his neck, your nails scratching gently on his skin again.

“I want that to. You know, T?” Placing a soft kiss to his perfect lips.

“I mean it.” His hands started to caress your back under your shirt drifting higher up.

“And so do I.” You clarified. You both were beating around the bush about the pregnancy comments you had yet to address. You could feel the tension rise in the air as well as his dick beneath you. You initiated a pretty messy makeout that progressed to pulling both of your shirts off. His hand gripped some of your hair, grabbing at the nape of your neck and pulling your head backwards. He followed your mouth, biting onto your lip then pulling away. His kisses returned and trailed down over you and then sank onto a particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth hard. You moaned in response, you could feel his tongue massaging over the spot as he continued to suck. You hissed in pain but also pure delight when you felt his teeth bite against the spot. He worked his way down to your exposed chest. He squeezed your tits lost in the feeling, loving how they looked. Your tits under his huge hands was just his favorite thing but he couldn’t stop the intruding thought of if they’d change when you got pregnant.

“You’re perfect, do you know that?” He asked pulling away eyes focused on your tits only to hear you hum in response. His hands drifted off them and his hands gripped your waist harshly as you grinded your now wet core on him. His hands softened though as he moved them over your stomach. “You’ll look so perfect pregnant.” The words fell out of his mouth, you stopping immediately in shock.

“What did you say?” You did hear what he said, but you wanted to hear it again to make sure you did hear it right. Was he being serious? He hummed, pulling you into another kiss but you just as quickly pulled away. “T…”

“Yeah, you heard me. You’d look so sexy.” He cooed. His eyes were locked on yours. He was very serious. This is not how you thought this would come up again.

“Oh yeah?” You started to giggle, a little flattered but also out of pure shock. “Is that what you want? You want to get me pregnant?” You asked, still giggling looking at him.

“Baby” grabbing your face now. Your giggles stopped almost instantly. “I’m so fucking serious right now. I want that.”

“Are we really having this conversation?” Your eyes widened.

“Yeah…” he looked at you confused in why you were hesitating.

“Can I put my clothes on? I thought we were like messing about.” You said shyly.

“No, I like you like this.” He let go of your face, his hands back on your body caressing your skin.

“T… this is serious” you tried to explain.

“…and I’m serious. I’m serious about you, about us, I want a baby with you. Do you not want that?” He asked so blatantly, he looked hurt, offended, the look of defeat back on his face.

“No…” you mumbled. His hands dropped from your body immediately. “No, no, not like no. I meant ugh.” You sighed frustrated at how your words were coming out. “I meant no, yes, of course I want that. I didn’t know you did or if what we said in bed months ago was serious, I don’t know I was scared.” Your head fell onto his chest. You felt so vulnerable.

“I know, baby. I didn’t know either but I’m tired of pretending that’s something I’m not thinking about every time we have sex now. Yeah?”

“Yeah…” you muffled into his chest.

“C’mere. I really want a family. Do you want that?” He asked, pulling your chin up to look at him. His face looked so perfect, his lips in a little pout, his eyes glistening, his skin glowing.

“I want a family with you.” You confirmed. “After Greece, can we have a proper chat about this? I don’t want to rush this, baby. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Like embarrassingly a lot but we need a proper discussion. I didn’t know if you wanted this too.” Confessing you were also really wanting this.

“I told you I want everything with you. I mean everything. I want to have kids with you. I want to have a family with you. I want it all with you.” You got shy at his words again and hid your face in his neck. “What’d you being shy for? C’mere.” He started placing kisses all over your exposed skin. “Think you would make the most perfect mummy, yeah?” He started to giggle in between the kisses.

“T…” you whined your lips rolled into a pout at how cute he was. His eyes completely lighting up at the idea.

“Would you wanna be a mummy?” His hands came to rub over your stomach as he started to laugh a little again.

“To your babies?” You looked directly at him now. “Of course. Absolute dream.” You fell into giggles beaming with the idea. You couldn’t wipe the smiles off either of your faces if you tried. You felt like you were going to cry out of excitement and joy.

“After Greece then.” He told you placing a kiss on your lips.

“After Greece.” You confirmed returning the kiss. He hugged you tight to his chest. His hands held you so firmly, he always made you feel so safe. Your cheek squished against his, his facial hair slightly tickling you.

“I love you so so so so much,” you whispered in his ear pressing your lips back against his skin. He hummed squeezing you a little tighter.

“I love you” He whispered back. You wanted to hear him say that for the rest of your life. You cuddled into his warm embrace a little more before he stood up with you still in his arms, picking you up with him. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him tighter. You nuzzled your face into his neck pressing soft kisses against his skin.

“What’d you want to eat, my pretty girl?” He cooed, walking with you stuck to him towards the kitchen.

“Wait, T! Wait, I need my clothes!” You yelled halfway there realizing you were still topless pressed to him. You started to giggle and so did he.

“Nah, don’t need ‘em. You’re good just like this. I like you like this” he laughed, continuing on his way to the kitchen.

It was the night before you all left for your holiday in Greece. It was going to be a decent sized group traveling together out of Liverpool. Jude, Jobe and another friend were meeting you there because they were coming from elsewhere. Your bestie, Lauren, was coming and you were giddy with excitement to see her but also after your conversation with Trent you were just generally in an amazing mood and having some amazing sex in the last 24 hours. You hadn’t spent proper time with Lauren in ages let alone gone on a holiday with her. Yeah, this was going to be different than your previous trips you'd taken considering you were now living with your serious boyfriend discussing babies but she could still do as she pleased, she was single, and she loved being single. Lauren was way more outgoing than you and brought out a more… let’s say brave… side of you, for sure. You had met in university and bonded over similar lifestyles and interests. It involved a lot of partying, stupid decisions but built an incredibly trusting loyal relationship. You and Lauren were a match made in hell for men. You filled every vice. Aesthetically, you couldn’t be more different in appearance and in taste. Lauren had a body. She was caked with a face card that never declined. She constantly flirted, it was just her natural state. She was incredibly sweet and nice, she just didn’t have a great filter. You had more of an aura. A little mysterious just given your introverted nature but people were drawn to you. You radiated a glow that had men drooling. You were pretty like a doll, like a model or ballerina. You were clean cut and politely shy… until you were comfortable and you were comfortable with Lauren. She was flying from New York to your house and you couldn’t wait to be back together.

When she arrived you practically screamed running to the front door, even though you had offered to pick her up from the airport. She had visited before but hadn’t seen the house completely finished, lived in yet. You were a little nervous about the trip mixing different groups of people but overall excited. Trent was playing some video game so you and Lauren were upstairs alone packing your bags, re-trying on your outfits for her just to be sure they all hit.

“I literally cannot wait to go out! Like I love Mykonos.. I cannot!” She gushed holding up a practically see through mini dress imagining herself in it at a club.

“I’m honestly just excited to drink and sit in the sun like pleassse.” You whined, throwing a bikini in the Rimowa. “What’s going to be your first drink?” You questioned trying to think of your own answer.

“Can I be basic? I just want tequila, rocks, lime. On repeat.. put it on tap.” She giggled.

“Oooo yeah” you hummed “That sounds so good.” You said when Lauren stopped folding some of your clothes to stand up.

“Well what’s stopping us from starting now! Come on!” This was the problem with Lauren. Her ideas never came with a solid retaliation. You couldn’t find an argument. Why not? You had nothing to do tomorrow but sit your ass on a private plane to Greece. You two giggled downstairs headed to the kitchen when you told her you’d meet her there, you just wanted to tell Trent.

“Baby…” you cooed, stepping into the room walking over to his chair dragging your hands over his chest from behind him before trailing your nails back up. He cocked his head to look at you. He was met with a bare shoulder and was a little confused. So he grabbed at your arm pulling you to stand in front of him.

“Where are your clothes…hmm?” his hand outstretched caressing your body in front of him. It was a little early for you to be getting into anything for bed.

“I was tying on my outfits” you giggled at his touch squirming away but his hand grabbed your waist firmly “this is what I ended up in, I guess.” Shrugging. You were in a little cotton bralette and satin flounce shorts.

“Yeah…? That’s why..?” He was questioning your intention of waking in interrupting his game wearing such little clothing. “C’mere.”

“No, no, no! T!” You squealed when he pulled your body towards his. “I was on my way to the kitchen! Serious!” He didn’t appreciate your resistance so he met you halfway, scooting forward, his face coming to kiss your bare stomach.

“Yeah.. what for?” He spoke against your skin, still pressing wet kisses onto you.

“We’re making drinks… was coming to see if you wanted one, baby” You said, picking his head up off your body, looking for a genuine answer. He could tell you actually were telling the truth so he just slipped his hands around you squeezing your ass, keading it.

“Not now, I’ll come in a little, okay, beautiful girl?” He cooed looking up at you.

“Mmkay baby. Love you” you said, pulling away from him, slipping away from him leaving, before running back into the room to place the kiss on his cheek you forgot. He shook his head at your childish behavior but he was happy if you were happy.

“Sorry! Sorry!” You came rushing in with a silly smile from Trent’s kisses. Lauren was sitting at your kitchen island scrolling on her phone waiting.

“He’s got you down so bad” she said, shaking her head laughing.

“Nah” You tried to deny it poorly.

“Makes me happy Y/N.” She said genuinely leaning onto your shoulder. It was a tender moment placed neatly between your usual nonsense.

You connected your phone to a Bluetooth surround sound speaker, putting on a favorite of you twos. ‘Unforgettable’ French Montana pumped through the big room.

“Stop! Haven’t heard this in a minute.” She said laughing while getting off the stool. “Okay, where’s the liquor?” she said, opening random kitchen cupboards. You pulled on her arm with a big smile on your face for her to follow you into a little enclave down the hall that was a full bar. It was gorgeous marble with gold barware. It didn’t get used a lot but it was one of your favorite looking spaces in the house. “What the fuck!” She gasped with her jaw slacked.

“Honestly... sometimes when I go to make a drink I expect to be getting some cheap tequila. I forget I’m not drowning myself in alcohol at university and am an adult.” You laughed grabbing for a big brown tinted glass bottle of Don Julio 42.

“That never happens to me. I still drink that shit.” You both broke into a fit of giggles. “Not all of us are married to famous athletes.”

“Relax, I am not his wife!” You rolled your eyes at her overzealous comment. God, did that comment get cemented into your brain though… You’d love to be his wife and after the conversation last night you started to think that could possibly happen.

“Give me a plastic cup, a beer soaked floor, an investment banker, and a dollar slice and I’m happy.” She pulled the bottle from you to pour some into a glass you placed in front of her on the marble.

“That’s just not true…” you corrected her. Lauren and you loved a crap bar as much as the next person but you both grew up comfortably, you lived privileged lifestyles, you toyed with expensive shit as if it was nothing. Everything was available to you. It just wasn’t your entire personality. Trent knew everything about you but you kept your upbringing pretty hush since you moved to the UK.

You two had made your way back to the kitchen gossiping, sitting at the island after a few shots, pulling out ingredients to make cocktails after being too drunk for more shots but too sober to drink straight tequila on the rocks. Your plan to make a drink snowballed into you two dancing around the kitchen in scantily clad clothes, drunk off tequila, screaming dirty lyrics to your favorite songs.

It started with you leaned against a counter top trying to assemble the cocktail shaker when ‘Surround Sound’ by JID and 21Savage came on and it ended with you whining on Lauren, you two in fits of giggles. Your asses hanging out of your shorts, shaking. Your hands touching on your body, rapping the nastiest lines. You wouldn’t normally dance so slutty in front of other people, your close friends I.e Lauren, sure, maybe Trent as a joke but you two were just drunk messing about.

Marcel was bringing two of his friends to Greece and they had decided to stay over at yours to make things easy in the morning for the flight. He had a key to the house so he let them inside but was confused when he heard heavy bass vibrating from the kitchen. His friends looked at him for some sort of answer but he shrugged just as confused as them.

You were still throwing it back on Lauren joking when the three boys came into the kitchen. If they weren’t younger boys, baby-brother-like figures to you, you probably would’ve been mortified but instead in your drunk state you squealed excited to see Marcel specifically, running around the island to wrap your arms around his neck, hanging off him.

“What we saying drunk girl?” He joked looking down at you clinging to him.

“You’ll drink with me right? I know you will.” Your words were laced with tequila shots. You had texted Trent to come be with you but he didn’t respond. It made you a little sad but you pushed it out of your mind with more liquor. He saw your text and heard the music but just wanted you to spend some time with your friend before he was back all over you.

You unlatched from Marcel to say hi to the two friends who were a little shocked at the scene and Marcel’s calmness in it. To the boys, there were two older girls, in little clothing, drunk, grinding on each other. To Marcel, well… he was conflicted. This came up a lot with you. You were objectively attractive. He knew that. You were like his sister, he didn’t think of you like that but he couldn’t exactly get rid of the fact that you weren’t when you were like this or in situations like when he could hear you moaning getting fucked upstairs. It was all very confusing for him, it was like his body betrayed him. He loved you like a sister so in turn his confusion transferred and just pushed the narrative of him trying to get with your friends more. It was only natural for a little brother to try to pursue them.

You completely forgot about a night out you had in London after Liverpool had won some championship last year when Lauren and Marcel had gotten handsy in some club with each other after meeting. You saw them look at each other when he walked into the kitchen. They didn’t hook up, you didn’t even think there was a kiss, just some inappropriate touches exchanged. That was kind of Lauren’s thing. She pushed men. She wanted to know she had them in the palm of her hand. Grinding on them, whispering, moaning, trailing her hands down them, dragging theirs up her, licking her lips… She called it women empowerment, you called it teasing. She had successfully gotten Marcel where she wanted him. If she wanted to fuck him, she knew she could, if she didn’t… she didn’t. It made you feel a little differently watching her do it to someone you cared about knowing the play. As she laid her mark again seeing him it reminded you that you hadn’t told Lauren yet, kind of as a joke but also so she didn’t freak out, that Jude was also coming on this trip. Obviously he wasn’t there tonight because he wasn’t coming from England. Jude was probably one of your favorite of Trent’s friends on his own but the wake he left everywhere he went could be a lot. It didn’t affect you but you watched it ensue tucked in Trent’s arms. He was beautiful, objectively incredibly hot but he was younger so you kind of drew the line there. You didn’t really want to think about the other things you knew about him…things you’d seen. Before you even met Trent you had shown Lauren a video of the two boys on TikTok. You lusted after them. The whole country of England did. It was a dangerous pair but so were you and Lauren and you thought you could handle it. It was bizarre now that it could happen in real life so you weren’t sure what to tell her and now Marcel was involved. You were drunk, the whole situation blurred in your brain.

“Picking something good, f’me” you felt your cheeks warm at the sound of his voice. You were leaning over the kitchen island scrolling through Spotify like it was a novel, reading each song carefully trying to build a good queue for everyone who were coerced into drinking heavily. Trent’s hands lacing around you, caressing your stomach, you just hummed, staring at his big hands moving over your skin. “Hmm?”

“Yeah, baby.” If he couldn’t smell it, he could hear it in your tone. You were drunk and he was only aiding and abetting the lustful thoughts about him you got when you were drunk. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck and kept them there. “You wanna have my baby?” He whispered laughing jokingly.

“That sounds perfect,” you confessed, pushing your ass back into him.

“Dangerous words to say right now, pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin. He held you in his arms. You were practically stumbling around the house. The night had spiraled. Trent told you he had to go get ready for bed because someone had to wrangle everyone tomorrow to make the flight. So he kissed you squeezing your ass, you bitting at his neck.

“Come up soon. Okay, baby?” He whispered in your ear. You hummed and started to try to leave a hickey on his neck. “Okay, okay, okay. I love you, drunk girl. Make sure you make it back upstairs to your T, yeah?”

“Mmm yeah, baby.” You practically moaned moving back to his lips to get a kiss. Once Trent had left, you decided maybe it was time to wrap things up. No matter how drunk you were, you hated messes so you tried to clean the kitchen up… pretty poorly though.

There were plenty of bedrooms in the house for three boys but they all were slumped on the living room couch refusing to move, watching a rerun of some 90s footie game, they weren’t even alive for. It was weird so you just turned the lights off on them. Letting them fend for themselves until you clocked that Lauren was laying very comfortably in between Marcel’s legs. It didn’t bother you exactly, it wasn’t your place to say who could do what with who, you just didn’t want anything to mess with the holiday or let anyone’s feelings get hurt. So for tonight, you took matters into your hands because of a long travel day tomorrow and dragged Lauren to a guest room knowing she’d complain she didn’t sleep well on a couch hungover tomorrow. You both drunkenly giggled about how bad of an idea it was for her to go near your boyfriends younger brother but a part of you was sober enough to try to threaten her not to touch anyone night one

“Don’t ruin your other nights for something tonight.” You slurred laughing falling on the bed with her. You said it as if that was sound reasoning and would convince her. It wasn’t, it wouldn’t. You successfully got yourself upstairs moving slowly up the stairs carefully holding water and ibuprofen. You peeled the little clothing you had on off in your dimly lit room, trying not to wake Trent but when you saw his bare back exposed laying in your bed, you didn’t really want to put pajamas on… not at all really. You were needy. You washed your face, brushed your teeth, turned the lights off and crawled into your bed cuddling up to your sleepy boy. You started pressing pretty sensual kisses all over him; his back, his neck, his face, just anywhere you could really. He rolled over and hummed a little, waking up some.

“Baby?” He groaned quietly.

“You’re so sexy, T.” You whispered, crawling on top of him, continuing with your kisses. He went to wrap his arms around you instinctively and became very aware you were naked.

“Beautiful, what we doing? Let’s go to sleep, yeah?” He cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your hand glided over his abs to the waistband of his boxers trying to get to him but he stopped you. “Baby, baby, baby, okay. Come on. Let’s sleep. Come just give me a cuddle.” He asked sweetly.

“T…” you moaned working kisses up his neck. Coming to his ear to whisper. “I want you to fuck me please. I need you.” You were essentially moaning.

“Nah, baby, not like this. You know I don’t like that. Not when you’re this drunk and I’m sober.” His reasoning was incredibly sound.

“Pleasssee, I want you.” You were desperate trying to beg him.

“You’re very sexy, baby and you’re making this really hard.” He sleepily said but you could feel him getting hard underneath you so you started to grind on him, your hips rolling on top of his.

“Yeah? I make you hard?” You drunkenly misunderstood what he said.

“Yes, you do but I’m saying you’re making this very difficult for me right now so please just gimme a cuddle and let’s sleep.” He laughed at your desperation.

“Baby…” you huffed, pressing your cheek onto his bare chest sad about the rejection.

“I’ll fuck you tomorrow, trust me okay? I’m sorry sweet girl. I love you, baby.” He kissed the top of your head.

“T…” you whined once more.

“Shhhh, sleep hmm?” He whispered.

“But T…” you tried once more.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, what is it?” He couldn’t help but smile, he was tired but you were cute.

“I want a family with you.” You whined quietly, your eyes fluttering closed as your head feel heavier on him.

“And I know that, baby. I’m gonna give that to you just not right this second.” He continued to laugh a little.

“What about getting married?” You whispered, starting to fade, lulled by his warmth and slow breathing. Trent’s eyes lit up though.

“You want that?” He asked sheepishly but excitedly. He figured you were being brutally honest right now so he thought he’d ask.

“Mmmm, want that so bad.” Your words slurred together a little so he stopped despite having a million questions for you.

“Okay, okay” he laughed. “I’ll give you whatever you want if you just sleep f’me now.” As he pressed a kiss to your head, smiling.

“Can I stay right here?” He could barely hear your question. It was so soft and muffled against his skin, you were layed completely on top of him.

“Course.” Pressing more kisses to your head.

When you woke up your head was pounding. It was terrible. You stirred still on top of Trent. He was awake stroking his hand up and down your back.

“Good morning, sweet girl.” He cooed. “Gotta get up.”

“I feel awful.” You moaned.

“Yeah, I bet.” He laughed “I’m sorry, how about I get everyone else up and let you sleep a little more than come get you. Yeah?” You could only hum in reply.

He went to wake everyone else up and was met with a very interesting surprise. There were only two boys on the couch asleep.

“Aye, get up” Trent yelled into the living room, the two boys stirring unhappy with the loud call. “Where’s Marce?” Trent asked but was met only with murmurs.

He walked to go wake up Lauren, it was then it occurred to him what had occurred to you. ‘Oh fuck’ he said under his breathe walking down the hall.

“Laur…” he called out. Knocking on the bedroom door before opening it a little. The dark room was lit by some sunlight seeping through curtains. There on the large bed, no blankets, a naked Lauren lying on top of an equally clothesless Marcel. “You’re a fucking idiot, Marce.” Trent said into the currently quiet room.

“Oh fuck…” Lauren hushly spoke. “Honestly, don’t. I know, I know…” Trent picked up a blanket and threw it at them.

“Don’t tell Y/N” Marcel told his brother.

“Don’t tell Y/N? Are you serious? Honestly…” Trent moaned, walking out of the room annoyed. He came back upstairs to you putting the situation he just walked into in the back of his mind.

“You know what you’re wearing, sweetheart? I’ll grab it.” He cooed trying to help you. You hummed telling him you had left a Jacquemus sweat set in the wardrobe to wear. Once you had pulled yourself together you sat on the edge of the bed trying to wake up. “Gonna take your bag downstairs, okay?”

“Kay. Thank you, T” you cooed rubbing your hands over your face trying to feel better somehow. Marcel and Lauren were now clothed in the kitchen and to be fair Trent was surprised that everyone was actually ready. The cars to take you to the airport arrived but you hadn’t come down yet so he went back up to grab you… only you hadn’t moved off the bed.

“Can you carry me?” You whined with a pout.

“Yeah, baby.” He laughed while picking you up under your arms. You wrapped your legs around him, kissing his neck. “Everyone ready?” Trent yelled carrying you down the stairs. There wasn’t really a response. The group all just shuffled into the cars. You felt how weird the energy in the car was when you looked at Lauren. Something was off, you knew she had been with Marcel you could feel it.

Last night, drunkenly, Lauren found herself absolutely freezing in the room she was staying in. She got out of bed and walked to look for the thermostat. With little luck, she went to the living room to see if anyone was awake and would know where it was.

“Marce” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah sort of, sweetheart, what’s up?” Quietly as he was really half asleep still. He slowly pulled himself up and walked round the couch and met Lauren. Lauren was in a little silk camisole and shorts set.

“I’m so cold, do you know where the thermostat is for around here?” She whispered.

“You look pretty cold…” Marcel cheekily said as he glanced over her figure then focusing on her hard nipples under the thin silk.

“Stop!” She tried to quietly squeal, slapping at his bare chest, covering her own. They walked down the hall.

“I thought it was around here but I’m not seeing it…” he paused. “Erm.. you know what come on, you’re staying in here?” He asked, walking further down a corridor to the room. Marcel walked into her bedroom and went immediately into the wardrobe.

“Why do you have so much stuff in here?” Lauren asked as she sat on the bed watching him.

“Usually the room I stay in when I sleepover and I do quite a bit especially when Trent’s away so I don’t know I guess it’s ’my room’ ” he used air quotes before he continued to riffle through a few things before pulling out a jumper of his. “You wanna borrow this?”

“Oh, thanks so much Marce. I’m sorry I took your room though, I didn’t know.” She cooed, leaning further back on the bed.

“It’s no big deal.” He said starting to turn out.

“Marce… do you like to sleep alone?” She asked pretty suggestively.

“Nah, not particularly.” He quietly laughed.

“I really don’t and it’s your bed, would you want to sleep with me, like share?” The question was laced with hidden seduction.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind… I wouldn’t mind” he replied with a similar tone. From there it spiraled from separate sides of the bed, to a loose cuddle, to sexual movements, to kisses, to laying completely on top of one another, to a full a make out… and the rest from there would be graphic. Let’s just say they fucked until about an hour before Trent went to wake them up.

When you arrived at the tarmac to board the plane, Trent indulged you and carried you on board. The crew took all the luggage. You got aboard and were practically ready to fall asleep from the jump, once in the air, Trent saw you squirming trying to get comfortable.

“Baby…sleepy girl, C’mere.” He cooed, gesturing you over to where he was sitting. You slugged your way over and laid on top of his lap, his arms wrapping around you tight, rubbing his hands under your sweatshirt over your soft skin. He held you close to his chest. You nuzzled into him. You hummed in contentment till you dozed off. He placed kisses on you any time you stirred whispering to you. “I got you, your Ts right here.”

•

This was a little rushed so idk… ugh! Swear we have some angst coming though 😳

Thank you for continuing reading! Comment or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 21 xx

[obzessed]

HP characters : powerpoint presentation headcanon

This is so random but here is how I imagine marauders' era characters doing a powerpoint presentation

The Marauders

Do over the top presentations, (down to using costumes, yes) would make the wildest powerpoint (too many colors because they can’t agree on anything)

They make it really fun and entertaining tho

use the airplane (flying broom ??) transition, except the airplane is on fire for some reason

indian drama level of presentation

Will Not stop giggling and interrupting each other

Jocks in middle school vibe, but they’re actually really smart

here to clown and have a laugh

generally get a high grade but get points deducted for clarity and taking too damn long

Severus Snape (+bonus Lily Evans)

In a solo presentation, Severus would make perfect, pristine presentation

King of bullet points

University standards powerpoints

only uses peer reviewed articles

always criticizes said peer reviewed articles

Never uses notes, but doesn't look the audience in the eyes ever

Doesn't look at the audience period

He's not shy, he doesn't even do it consciously

Extremely complicated subjects, Will Not Dumb It Down For You

If anyone has a question, will look at them as if they’re the biggest idiot in the room

The type to explain by simply reformulating what he just said

If they still don’t understand either sighs dramatically and moves on, or sighs dramatically and start drawing on the board, speaking veeeryyyyy slowly, you let me know where I lost you idiot fellow classmate

Actually explains really well when he puts in some effort, has this clean cut way of decomposing each problem and detailing each point, then tying it all back together that makes it really easy to follow

writing on the board and drawing legitimately helps him lay out his thought process

the condescension is just a plus

Type of presentation that is objectively very good and interesting and well thought out but like. no one cares. bring back the airplane transitions.

For a few people sufficiently advanced and interested and who actually understand what he’s talking about, (and who are not rebuked by his style and general attitude), it’s a v good presentation

Positive : Always adds something new and generally brings really pertinent arguments, genuinely passionate about what he’s talking about

Teachers pick up on his fast out of the box thinking and surprising creativity

his powerpoint design is a little depresso, no colors except to highlight important words

very minimalist and to the point

Regulus argues every point of his presentation

Academic rivals to lovers frfr

Gets point deducted for his attitude and his “lack of enthusiasm”

NOW Severus + Lily = best of both worlds, get an O everytime

Lily always insists on using canva (their pwp designs are so cute)

overall they balance each other really well

I feel like Lily would get a little giggly if she fumbles

The marauders would def shout “boring” and giggle like middleschoolers at the back of the class during Snape's presentation

Snape's ability to remain unfazed in the face of bs stems from there

God help them all if they get paired up for a presentation

Marauders + Severus

Snape would have to settle for at least one airplane transition

It would become a war of adding and deleting each other's progress on the pwp design

they split it in two but they try to gain terrain on the other's part like in Clash of Clan

They are at WAR

“I am a commander in battle and your slides are but a village on a map” James Potter

“Fuck you” Severus Snape

“Go jump off an airplane if you like them so much”

Somehow the presentation is even more chaotic than the previous one

passive aggressively asks the other to click on the next slide

always takes the other's question just as they're about to speak

If Snape sees a single one of them look at their notes for too long it's on sight (RIP Pettigrew)

Bc Fuck if he's gonna lose points over this

best or worst grade

lots of brain cells

Teacher tried to make the braincells hold hands but the brain cells are Enemies