#they all understand this is a Big Deal of course

[katebishopsbaefy]

No Thinking

billie eilish x reader

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

summary: you break a "rule" and billie deals with you.

warnings: basically pure smut, mean!billie, dumbification, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slaps, crying

words: 1163

a/n: katebishopsbaefy posting three times in one week?? unheard of💩 but i've had an ear infection all week so i've had lots of time to write!! i also have a few asks, so those'll hopefully get done soon. please keep sending them they're so much fun!! also billie's haircut looks so good?? i don't understand why we're all hating???

Billie's been away for the past few weeks, out on her tour with her friends. Of course, you’ve loved seeing her so happy and excited to be on the road for once, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t missed her terribly. You’d been so lonely all alone in the big house, and all of those photos and videos in your hidden folder had just been too tempting; you couldn’t resist.

You and Billie had made a half-assed agreement a while ago about not touching yourselves when the other was away. It wasn’t really meant to be a real rule; it was just something you’d seen on some porn website, and you thought it might be fun to try.

You definitely hadn’t thought it all the way through.

When she came home, just a little over two hours ago, things had gotten heated between you so quickly. Her lips were all over your mouth, your neck, your chest, anywhere she could reach. 

“God, I missed you s’much” she mumbled against your cleavage as she sucked a dark purple bruise into the soft skin. You tugged on her dark hair, and whatever response you’d been about to mutter quickly turned into a gasp when you felt her start to swirl her tongue around your nipple, and then suck sharply. She must’ve really missed you.

She’d settled you on the bed, all fluffed up with blankets and pillows. She might’ve missed you, she might’ve wanted you so bad she could’ve burst, but she’d always make sure you’re comfortable first. You'd kissed for a while until she’d gotten too impatient to wait, so she kissed her way down your body, between your breasts, across your stomach, ending with some soft sucks to your thighs. She gently pushed them open, and mumbled against them, “You been good f’me?”

You understood exactly what she meant. No, you haven’t been good for her. It was just so hard, having no one to touch you for weeks. You had to do it yourself…but all you’ve ever wanted was to be good for her, so you nodded your head, your mumbled words coming out more slurred and sloppy than hers, “Mhm. Been good, promise.”

But when she’d feel the slight resistance of you trying to keep your legs shut, you knew you’d been caught. “C’mon, babygirl… lemme see,” she murmured in that soft, but patronizing tone that always had you stuttering and blushing. And of course, you folded.

Her hands slowly pushed your thighs apart, revealing your soaking wet heat. Her eyes had visibly darkened, her finger traced up and down your slit. It was like she’d forgotten that she was teasing you for a moment, so entranced by you, so unable to keep her hands off of you. An audibly shaky breath would pull her back to reality.

She’d slowly pushed a finger in you as her eyes met yours, and you’d immediately recognized that look on her face. She’d seen right through your lie. She’d be able to feel it.

“Aw, baby…”, she murmured in that tone, the one that made it feel like she was talking down to you (which she was). Her finger gently felt around, enough to make you clench, but she’d still been able to tell what you’d done. “Feels like you’ve been touchin’ yourself… have you? You been stretchin’ out your needy little hole while I was gone?”

 Your head was nodding along before you even realized what was happening. It’s just the way she talks to you, like she’s poking fun. It folds you right in half.

Billie softly clicked her tongue at you, and the tears sprang into your eyes when her finger traveled to your clit. She’d gotten you right where she wanted you; so overwhelmed you can't even think. And it’d only been a few minutes of teasing.

“You know the rules. Couldn’t’ve waited a few days f’me to get back? You’re that needy?” she teased, and you whined, already slipping into that headspace she loves to put you in where all you can do is feel. 

When her finger started to trace circles into your clit, you whined again and gazed up at her with dark, tearful eyes. “I-I’m sor-”, you started, but she cut you off with a sharp slap to your cunt. One physical act of humiliation among a sea of verbal jabs. You whimpered and jolted like usual, immediately closing your mouth.

“Nuh uh, no thinkin’, baby. Too dumb f’that right now. Just needa have your pussy fixed…”, she mumbled so sweetly, so cruelly, and you shivered at the implication. She was going to make you come until you were tight again.

She rubbed your clit until you were shaking and crying, making you finish one, two, three times. Making you finish until she was satisfied.

And now, after what’s felt like hours of abuse on your clit, she’s finally decided to move on.

She pulls her finger away, and gently taps your nub with it, just to watch your legs twitch. To make sure you're sensitive enough. Her finger finds its way back down to your hole, gently pushing into you in a way that makes you tense and whimper. And she grins that stupid, cheesy, lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. She looks so sweet, but so mean.

Her fingers wrap around yours, leading your hand down your body until she’s separating your middle and ring finger from the rest. Before you even know what's happening, she’s guiding your two fingers into your pussy, and a matching pair of her fingers are holding the back of yours to force them against that spot that makes you see stars. Of course, you whine and squirm, much too overwhelmed and overstimulated to have four fingers pressed into you. You’re too tight to be so full. But, of course, she holds you down.

“Mmm… now you’re all nice ‘nd tight again. Feel it, babygirl?”, she teases, her voice dripping with soft cruelty as she fucks your fingers into you. When you don’t respond, she takes her thumb and grinds it against your swollen clit, hard enough to make you jolt and scream. Eyes fly open and fill with a fresh set of tears as you nod at her. Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath, your hair is all messy from so much squirming, your red eyes brim with tears, and the sight just makes her groan. 

“Think we gotta stretch you out again, mama,” she murmurs, her lips finding their way to your cheek to kiss away your tears. It’s so sickly sweet compared to the way she’s started to pound into you. You hadn’t even realized, but she’d pulled your fingers out and replaced them with all four of her own, intent on making you scream and cry until you passed out. And after just a few more rounds, she succeeds.

Maybe you should’ve thought twice about making that dumb rule with her.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

r you still open for requests? if so and if you havent done this, stan twins taking care of reader on their period? im on my period rn and i lowkey am craving for it,, /nf!!

❥ Stan & Ford taking care of you on your period headcanons <3

a/n: oh anon this one's for you and for everyone dealing with the struggle right now <333 may ur cramps be mild 🙏

STANLEY

★ “what do you mean you feel like garbage?? you were fine an hour ago! what happened?? who do I have to fight??” and when you explain, he just. OH. THAT.

★ “okay, okay, don’t freak out, but,” he digs around in some closet and pulls out a very old hot water bottle. “this thing got me through some rough winters. i hope this will, uh. . . stop the angry uterus thing.”

★ if anyone (Soos, Dipper, some poor clueless tourist) makes a dumb joke about “mood swings,” Stan will protect you. “oh, you think that’s funny? let’s see how funny it is when I lock you in the Mystery Shack bathroom for a week with no toilet paper!”

★ will not let you lift a finger. so worried about your state he physically shoves you back down if you try to do anything. “nope. nope, nuh-uh, baby, don’t even think about it.”

★ if you're dying from pain and nothing helps, he just holds you close while dramatically saying “oh sweetheart, if only nature was FAIR, it’d be me bleeding instead! why this world is so unfair????”

★ of course he buys you snacks. SO MANY SNACKS. he heard somewhere that chocolate helps, so now he’s bought four different brands of cheap chocolate bars from the gas station

“uh, i got these. one of ‘em’s gotta be the magic one, right?”

★ “old man Mcgucket says bark tea fixes everything. should we. . . should we try bark tea?”

★ once Stanley pulled out a beer and immediately regretted it. “. . . wait, no, that’s for me.”

★ ofc he cooks for you. he’s a big believer that food fixes all things, even if he doesn’t understand the science of it. makes you the heartiest, greasiest, most filling meal he can. you might not even want it but it’s the intent. it's the love. (and if you actually ask for something? he’ll make it with no hesitation)

★ you look even slightly like you’re in pain?? immediate concern. hunched over? “alright, that’s it, you’re going on the couch.” he literally herds you over with his hands on your shoulders, forces you to get comfortable. “c'mon, c'mon, up ya go. feet up. blanket on. there ya go.”

★ lovingly teases you when you cry over dumb stuff, but only a little. “you're cryin’ over a commercial? sweetie, c’mon.” wipes your tears anyway. kisses your forehead after.

★ grocery store trip. Stanley standing in the feminine hygiene aisle, he calls you from the store like, “baby, what the hell is ultra-thin? why are there WINGS on these? you gonna fly away or somethin’? :(”

★ i have a feeling he'll get the wrong ones. Stan comes home proud of himself only for you to be like Stan these are panty liners. he’s FLABBERGASTED. “they were in the same aisle!! they had the same stupid pink packaging!!”

★ eventually, he settles into his caretaking mode, ruffles your hair, makes bad jokes to make you laugh even when you feel awful. if you get emotional from the hormones he panics a little but ultimately just lets you cry on his shoulder and pats your back

★ mutters “alright, where’s it hurt, lemme at it.” then massages your lower back, rubs your stomach clumsily but gently. Stan is determined to physically get rid of your pain somehow even if that’s not how it works

★ makes you rest by putting on a movie and forcing you to stay put. he picks the weirdest mix of old action flicks, crime shows and one sappy romance he swears he doesn’t like. (he totally does.)

★ if you’re in pain he's gonna fix it. but since he can’t punch your uterus, he does the next best thing. distracts the hell outta you. "alright, sweetheart, what’s it gonna be? poker? tall tales? let's watch duck detective?”

you giggle. “Stan, just cuddle me.”

“oh, yeah, you got it, c’mere.” immediately pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his big arms around you, rocking his most precious thing in the world.

★ if you're up at 2 AM, restless from cramps, Stan notices immediately “owwh, doll, let’s getcha comfy.” guides you to the couch, sets you up with a blanket, turns on some quiet late-night TV. he stays up with you, spending sleepless night taking care of you. he sits there, rubbing your back, making sure you’re okay

in some hours more though, he falls asleep next to you, head leaning against yours

STANFORD

★ HE KNOWS BEFORE YOU DO. this man has studied interdimensional quantum phenomena. you think he hasn’t mapped out your cycle like a scientist mapping the tides???? PLEASE

“sweetheart, shouldn’t you be starting your period soon?”

“what? no?? I feel fine“ and twenty minutes later, you’re in pain

“ah. as I suspected.” Ford says

★ literally tracks it like a researcher. has a whole-ass journal with little notes. estimates symptoms, cravings, moods. he says it's because “I want to be prepared for you”.

you catch him writing in it one day. “Ford, what is that?”

he looks guilty and awkward. “a. . . documentation of your menstrual cycle?”

you take it, open it and your eyes widen. it got a whole-ass formula for predicting your moods

“wtf Ford, you made a menstrual algorithm??”

he rubs the back of his neck. “well, i wanted to ensure that i could be fully prepared for any and all symptoms—“

you’re just staring at the notes, not even listening to him. “did you seriously track that I crave sour candy more than chocolate???”

Ford pushes up his glasses. “i prefer to call it an empirical observation, yes.” next thing you do is kiss him senseless, because this nerd is the most devoted man on the planet

★ i assure you, he's already stocked up. you go to grab something and oh . . . heating pad? already plugged in. pain meds? already out on the counter. ur favorite snacks? somehow already bought. tea? brewing

★ of course! of course you'll get his lectures about periods. “did you know that menstrual cramps are caused by the uterus contracting due to prostaglandins? i read a fascinating study on ways to mitigate the pain—“ but let me tell you, he’s rambling because he’s nervous about you hurting. also because he thinks knowledge = comfort

★ his gentle hands, always. adjusting your blanket. rubbing slow circles into your back. fingertips ghosting over your forehead to check if you’re feverish

★ absolutely 100%, without a doubt, Ford takes notes on what helps you. if you ever say something like “ugh, this tea actually helps a lot” he writes that down. if you offhandedly mention “i think dark chocolate makes it better” he’s buying you ten bars of it next time.

★ he tries to keep you distracted. puts on old sci-fi movies and nerds out over them. reads aloud from a book if you want because he knows you love his voice

“did I ever tell you about the time I discovered a species that only reproduces once every ten years?” he just TALKS to you. calmly. thoughtfully. lets his voice carry you away from the pain.

★ he will stay up with you if you can’t sleep. even if he’s exhausted, even if he has research to do. if you’re in pain, he’s right there. “sleep, darling. I’ll stay up for a while. you need to rest.” strokes your hair until you do and presses a kiss to your temple when you finally drift off.

★ Ford can’t stand inefficiency. the first time he hears you complain about normal period products, he rubbed his chin, thinking. you’re uncomfortable??? with a problem that science could potentially solve???

“hmph. there must be a better way.” he disappears into his lab for hours.

★ what he makes depends on what you complain about! hate pads? “ah. they’re inefficient, bulky and uncomfortable. yes, darling, I see the flaws.”

hate tampons? “too absorbent, prone to leaking at unpredictable rates. . . fascinating, but flawed.”

cramps?? “prostaglandin-induced muscle contractions. I can work with this!”

no problem is too small. he listens to every complaint

★ “i will revolutionise menstruation, darling!” you're so proud of him. Ford is proud of himself too

★ normally, he treats you like his equal, his partner, his greatest love. but when you’re sick ohh he secretly loves having an excuse to baby you. he brings you tea and tests the temperature on his wrist before handing it over. he fluffs your pillows, tucks you in way too snug. if you groan in pain, he’s immediately alert. “what is it? what do you need? tell me, dearest, I’ll get it.”

i can't believe i wrote an entire fic from Ford's pov journaling reader's cycle, im going insane

[ahappydnp]

so sorry but ive seen two different things about this now and im very lost, why did people think they were breaking up/broke up in 2012??? pls help me understand, wise keeper of the lore. thank u so much

response under the cut for general 2012 discussion/too long

basically 2012/2013 used to get (and sometimes still is) generalized as this dark and awful time period where dnp "hated" each other and us, when in actuality it was two very young very scared closeted queer people who were in the process of several major life changes at once while also dealing with a new exploding fan base

there's a few big things from that "era" that people talk about:

deleting old posts- around this era dnp deleted a ton of old tweets/formsprings/dailybooths that could read as them being in a relationship. they were blowing up online and had more eyes on them than ever before, not to mention had just starting working with the BBC (where being queer would have greatly affected their careers). also keep in mind dan was still in the closet to EVERYONE, and now he's got tons of fans going through his accounts and sending shit to HIS LITTLE BROTHER on tumblr asking if dan's gay. anyway people decided them deleting early tweets meant they had broken up

dan's customerservice tumblr blog- in the middle of them blowing up and people finding all these old posts, dan in an effort to control the narrative, makes a new blog for people to anonymously ask him questions (: which went about as well as you can imagine for an extremely defensive closeted 20 year old with undiagnosed depression. basically he said some unfortunately things out of fear

the video leaked again- won't get too much into that because of the subject matter, but the yeah the video leaked for the second time except this time way more people saw it/shared it and dnp actually had to respond to it this time. which is. just fucking awful and heartbreaking all around.

phil persona- basically this was the birth of the amazingphil persona that'd follow phil to the quiff era. he became more sanitized and less personable than original phil fans were used to (which got romanticized into uwu he's sad because he and dan broke up and now he's shutting down)

"no homo"- pretty self explanatory...people asked if they were gay (every single day constantly on every platform) and they would say no because what else are they going to say. this one particular vyou where dan's actually trying to make people think kills me (x) god he was so young. but they'd also started doing the "omg i don't want to see you naked/ew people want us to kiss" and the infamous "you need a girlfriend" "my future wife" etc etc.

the breakup rumors mostly stemmed from and became popular/ treated as fact by younger fans who kind of saw them as these fictionalized characters (which i mean not to blame them because they were literal children and youtubers were still so new that people did treat them like tv show characters you could be friends with). it also got turned into more sinister theories like the "dan is abusing phil" ones and "phil is actually gay but dan isn't and just used phil for attention and fame in 2009"

there was also factors like them moving to london in 2012 (and people were CONVINCED they'd stop being friends in london??), people thinking them getting popular would mean they'd get girlfriends like other popular youtubers (shoutout danrific shippers), and most importantly just them sharing less about their personal lives with their audience. like of course they're not going to live tweet their day/location anymore when people are showing up at their house and trying to find their families.

basically, dnp were putting boundaries between themselves and their fans, but the fans interpreted it as putting distance between each other. in actuality the 2012/2013 era was full of some really amazing memories and content and things people loved (literally the photobooth challenge is from 2013!! sleeping phil saying i hate you is from 2012!!!)

in conclusion, imagine building a forever home with your ex lmao

[hopes-memorial]

"Yeah... I try not to ask too much of them when they go on stuff like that. Though, of course, I make sure to get as much data as I can..." It could be pretty difficult to manage at times, but he has done this enough that he knew how to make it all work out.

He can only nod in agreement as he sighs. "It is... though as long as the client doesn't start acting like it's somehow not their own fault that things didn't work out or understand that sometimes it's no one's fault, then it's not a big deal..."

“Yes a trial date is far more different as it is mostly testing the waters. Afterwards though, I support them separate..I wouldn’t dare ever want to ruin everything by pushing too much. Would be simply tragic…” he sighs as he goes back to fanning himself off. While there was things that could be worse, this was definitely up there.

He noticeably seems more upset hearing about that as he just sighs putting his gave in his hand. He nods in agreement. “Yes it’s ultimately frustrating..I wish it was possible to see each outcome. However alas..it’s impossible. How saddening..”

[swtt4hk]

Meeting Sang-woo’s mom for the first time… || Cho Sang-woo x fem!Reader (Oneshot)

requested by: @sensationallysangwoo

you and Cho Sang-woo have been dating for a while. You guys met through a mutual friend who introduced you to each other and you both fell in love on first sight.

Sang-woo is a successful business man , who grew up in Ssangmun-dong as the smartest boy and the pride of his neighbourhood. His standards for women were always pretty high and that’s why he took a while to find the right woman. But when he first looked at you , he knew you were the one. The love of his life.

Your relationship with Sang-woo is all that you’ve dreamed of. He buys you gifts , you go on trips together and on his days off , he makes sure to give you all his attention. You couldn’t ask for something more and neither could he.

The fact that he wanted you to meet his mom , was a big deal for both of you. It meant that the relationship was getting more serious. You couldn’t lie , you were nervous about meeting his mom , even though he reassured you that everything will be okay and that his mom will absolutely adore you.

—are you sure she’ll like me? What if she thinks I’m not good enough for you?

you keep asking those kind of questions until you arrive at Sang-woo’s hometown , Ssangmun-dong. He helps you get out of the car and he can sense how nervous you feel and totally understands it. He’s a successful businessman while you’re just a secretary at a , not so very successful, company.

you’re just a few steps away from Sang-woo’s mother shop. She runs a fish shop , which you found ridiculous at first because with the money that Sang-woo has , his mom wouldn’t have to work for the rest of her life , but his mom actually enjoys working , even if it’s just a fish shop.

Sang-woo holds your hand tightly and gives you a reassuring smile.

—everything’s gonna be okay , hm? Just be yourself and don’t be nervous. You know that everytime you get nervous , it doesn’t help you with anything and it only makes things worse.

You take a deep breath before giving him a nod to walk towards him mom. When you stand in front of the store , Sang-woo’s mother looks at both of you with surprise.

—ah! Son what a nice surprise!

she says and hugs him

—it’s nice to see you again mom…

Sang-woo gestures you to stand beside him

—who is that son? Is she your co-worker?

Sang-woo chuckles

—no mom she….she is my girlfriend. And I brought here to introduce you to her.

his mom takes a look at you

—ahhh it’s so nice to meet you! What’s your name sweetheart?

—my name is Y/N…it’s so nice to family meet you mrs Hye-jin , Sang-woo has told me a lot about you.

—ohh I hope he has said good things about me!

she jokes and you all laugh.

She gets you to sit at a table , behind the store and you all start talking. As the conversation keeps going, your anxiety goes away and you start getting more comfortable with Sang-woo’s mom. She’s actually a really nice woman and she’s not too nosy or annoying like any other mom would be towards her son’s girlfriend.

At some point , Sang-woo excuses himself to go answer a call and leaves you too alone and your anxiety comes back. Sang-woo was helping the conversation to keep going but now you don’t know what to say. His mom looks at you with a serious expression on her face and sighs before speaking to you.

—Y/N…do you love my son?

the question catches you off guard but you look at her with a reassuring smile and respond

—of course I do , mrs Hye-jin.

—do you promise you’ll keep being a good girlfriend to him? He has told me a lot about you and I’m truly happy that he’s found the love of his life but…as his mom , I’m still worried.

—of course! I promise I’ll keep being nice to him , take care of him and maybe , in the future…take good care of our kids.

Sang-woo’s mom smiles and holds your hand

—I’m so happy to hear that you see your relationship with Sang-woo as a serious one. He’s been through a lot and I’m so thankful that he’s finally happy and in a serious relationship. You’ve changed him a lot…in a good way of course. But please focus on your job and responsibilities too because if you give him too much attention he becomes a brat.

She jokes and you both chuckle

—thank you for accepting me into your family mrs Hye-jin…I promise I’ll focus on both my job and Sang-woo and…I’ll keep an eye on him so he doesn’t become a brat.

You say and you both laugh again. Then Sang-woo comes back and sits on the table.

—What did I miss?

His mom looks at him with a strict attitude

—ya! How dare you start dating a girl like her and not introduce her to me earlier, huh?

His mom shouts at him and you try to hold your laugh back.

—hey mommm! I just wanted to see if things actually got serious! I’m sorry!

he says in a whiney tone

—make sure to take care of her properly! She’s a diamond , we can’t lose her , understood?

Sang-woo rolls his eyes

—understood…

You all have a good laugh , make more jokes and talk about many many things. Meeting Sang-woo’s mom wasn’t that bad after all…

———————————————————————

Thank you soooo much @sensationallysangwoo for requesting this ff! It really was a great idea and I enjoyed writing it! More fics coming soon!

[muhlsworld]

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

synopsis: you and nika have a talk

WARNINGS: someone flirting with nika and comfort i think

you can find the request here

you, nika, and some of her old uconn teammates decided to go out seeing has you all had a free friday night while visiting, so here you all are at ted’s enjoying your friday night.

it was nikas turn to head for the drink at the bar. so here you were waiting with paige, azzi, and kk. you guys were all laughing and having a good time. that was until you turned to look at the bar for nika and saw some random girl next to nika. that girl was too close for your liking. but you turned back around to keep your conversation going with the girls.

a few more minutes had passed and turned around again to look at the bar seeing as nika had taken a while already. and what you saw made you feel uneasy. nika and this girl were having a conversation. but what made you feel uneasy was that the girl had placed her on nikas shoulder.

you looked feeling upset about the whole situation but you didn’t want to make a huge deal about it in front of your friends. so you were gonna wait till you got home to talk about it with nika. but the night wasn’t the same anymore. you weren’t feeling the fun anymore. and nika noticed but she would bring it up later when you got home.

you guys had left the bar around 2am. and once you got back to your apartment you shared with nika you went straight to the bedroom and nika followed you. “what’s going? you started acting weird.” nika asked. “it’s nothing it’s fine.” you said. “come on, i know it’s not nothing. talk to me.” she said softly. you guys were now sitting on the bed next to each other.

“i just… i didn’t like how touchy that girl at the bar was with you.” you said quietly, almost feeling embarrassed about it. and then it all clicked in nikas head. she know you had a tendency to be insecure especially now with all the popularity she was gaining. “oh baby, im so sorry.” she said quickly.

you replied with “it’s fine. i’m just making it a big deal.” “no no of course it’s a big deal. you’re feelings are so important to me, you know that.” nika explained. and you felt slightly better about the situation. “you know i wasn’t entertaining her or anything right?” she asked. you didn’t say anything to her about that. she sighed placing a hand on your thigh which caused you to look up at her.

“i promise i only want you. no one else can bring me the amount of happiness that you bring me. you’re the only person i’ve ever wanted okay? all this popularity means nothing to me without you.” nika explained to you very sincerely. “thank you nika, and i know you weren’t entreating her or anything. i just couldn’t help but feel that way you know?” you said.

“yes i totally understand and im sorry for not setting boundaries with that girl at the bar when i should’ve.” nika said. “thank you i really appreciate it nika.” you said smiling softly at her. she brought a hand to your jaw and pulled you in for a short sweet kiss. which you happily returned.

seeing as it was very late you guys got ready for bed. and as you crawled in bed nika said “i love you so much.”. you smiled at her and replied “i love you more.” nika had opened her arms so you could lay on her chest and you did.

you were happy nika was very understanding about what you were feeling. you were so lucky to have someone like her in your life. she was everything you had ever dreamed of.

and with that you guys fell asleep in each others arms. feeling happy with on another.

A/N: this is kinda short so i’m sorry about that but lmk if you have any more requests !

[more-sonorous]

sneak peek at my next big piece!! (javey)

i've decided on my next big undertaking, once i'll paint you shades of blue and red is done!

this idea, once again, came from the lovely @jackmkelly . we've been yapping about it nonstop and we're creating a pretty lovely storyline that's full of themes of love, loss, grief, acceptance-- there are cute kids, cute daveys, and lots and lots of family.

of course, because it's me, there's gonna be romance-- but there's also going to be a lot of discussion of healing and dealing with grief. i hope you guys are excited because I AM!!!!

.....

The carriage seemed to rock beneath them as the dirt road stretched onward beneath the wheels, jostling softly to the rhythm of the trotting horses up ahead. David swayed back and forth, bumping every time the wheels rumbled over a rock or divot in the path. He’d never ridden in a carriage like this before– the seats were cushioned and covered with silky smooth fabric, and the walls were painted with lovely flowering details of gold and pale pink. Curtains hung over the windows and lamps flickered above the heads of the two lone passengers– David Jacobs and one Medda Larkin, facing each other.

How he’d ended up riding in the carriage of one of the most successful women in New York City was honestly beyond his own understanding, but there she was, as real as the cool glass of the elaborately paneled windows to his left and right. Miss Medda was a beautiful woman with dark skin and elegantly styled black hair, curled into careful loops and pinned against her head in the fashionable style of the day. She was wearing a lovely S-shaped gown made of rich, coral-colored fabric that might’ve been worth more than David’s family’s entire apartment. Even her shoes seemed expensive. David could see the tips of her elaborately crafted flats from beneath her petticoats, and he wondered how someone could ever come upon such wealth.

“David, darling, I can’t thank you enough for taking this job.” She began, offering him the warmest of smiles and extending a careful hand to him. 

He took it with slight hesitance, nervous heart running like a racehorse within his chest. David’s mind was still lingering on anxious minutiae– was he underdressed? What if he didn’t impress her? What if his father’s shabby old coat and faded waistcoat and trousers were unpleasant to the eye? Was his tie crooked, or his shoes too obviously spit-shined? Perhaps his curls were a mess or he’d accidentally let the star of David hidden beneath his clothing show through. He was an anxious wreck as she squeezed his hand softly and leaned in.

“Now, I know this is going to be somewhat of a challenge, but I know your sister and I adore your family, and I know you’re a resilient bunch.” He could see some sort of trepidation trying to creep through her anxious expression, but Medda Larkin was an excellent actress, and any trace of nervousness was gone before he could catalogue it. “You’re overqualified, after all. A degree in education, years of piano lessons, excellent track record in school– I don’t think the children could ask for a better tutor, truly.”

“Thank you, Miss Medda.” He answered truthfully, though he was sure his anxiety was obvious.

David was currently riding out to the beautiful New York countryside to serve as a live-in tutor to the three Kelly children. It wasn’t the sort of job he’d dreamed of– when he attended Columbia university, he hoped to work his way up the ladder and eventually earn enough degrees to become a professor of literature. Then he’d pull his family from poverty and drop them into a comfortable middle class life– but he soon realized that his dreams were a bit too unrealistic. He’d need a bit more money because there weren’t enough scholarships in the world to pull him through a second degree. 

Sometime during his desperate job search, his elder sister Sarah must’ve mentioned his plight to her boss– she worked as a costume designer for Miss Medda, always sewing clothes and sketching elaborate dresses for the shows playing at the theatre– and when Medda found out that David was young, unmarried and university educated? She reached out immediately.

David was going to move in with the Kelly’s and act as not only a tutor but a nanny as well. The job paid well and he received free room and board, meals included, so he shouldered the rather embarrassing burden of childcare and took the job as a male nanny. Working here for two years would earn him enough money to finish school with his scholarships. Then he’d be set for life. 

Didn’t make it any less strange or nerve-wracking. If he did a bad job, that would make Sarah look bad, too. 

“Now,” Medda pursed her lips and carefully took David’s other hand. “I’ve got to be honest with you, honey. My son’s wife died two years ago. It… it hasn’t been easy for this little family, and they’ve been through about… well– it’s been twenty or so nannies since she passed.”

He felt his own eyes widening as his heart dropped to his stomach. So much for the two year plan. “Twenty? Are– are the children rather challenging?”

“The children? Oh, no.” She chuckled warmly, shaking her head. “Those babies are angels, David, I assure you. Three of the sweetest little souls you’ll ever meet. It’s– to put it delicately, it’s Jack. My son. He’s… selective? But before you panic, I’ve got a good feeling about you! You’re young! You’ve got lots of energy, lots of intelligence, siblings of your own– and you’re the first nanny that hasn’t been hired through an agency. My own personal choice.” 

David felt it wasn’t appropriate to mention that such a statement wasn’t refreshing at all. In fact, it only made the load upon his shoulders feel even heavier. Now he was going to make Medda herself look bad if he made a mistake. “I… I’ll try not to let you down.”

“I have a feeling you won’t.” She smiled, with an incredibly optimistic tone, and carefully squeezed David’s hands in her own before dropping them. “Here’s the trick– you win those kids over, you win their daddy over, too. I’ll give you some insider information. Francis is the youngest, and she’s two. Precious little thing, but she’s a real clinger. Luna’s five. She’s incredibly bright, adores singing and dancing, dressing up– it’ll be easy for you to connect with her, too. Micheal’s the oldest, and he’s eleven and a half. He’s a such a lovely kid, but he’s real prickly when you get to know him. You’ve got a little brother that age, though, don’t you? Leshem?”

“He’s just turned thirteen.” David confirmed, growing more nervous by the second. 

“You’ll be good with Micheal, then. He loves riding horseback, despises arithmetic… but he’s very interested in history, so you might use that to your advantage.” She shot David a playful wink and drew back the curtains on her side of the carriage, thoughtfully looking out the window. 

At some point, the grayscale cityscape had blossomed into a forest, bathed in the landscape of early spring. Blades of green grass pushed their way through the underbrush and green, budding leaves were beginning to appear. Even with branches mostly bare from winter, the road they were traveling was lovely. David could only imagine how it looked in full bloom, or drenched in the warm colors of autumn. Maybe even coated in a thick blanket of snow. It would be nice to live out of the city for once, too. Once in a life he could scarcely remember, David had lived in a little Polish village with his family. They’d left when he was only four, though, so all he could remember was their tiny Baxter Street department, deep in the slums of New York City. Such a getaway was usually a luxury only the rich could afford, and though he’d be working, he knew he’d still enjoy himself.

He peered out the window as well, trying to conceal his own nerves. David was a horrible blabbermouth when he got like this, and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to spark up an awkward conversation. “So… is the house a family property?”

“Not my family.” Medda laughed a warm, full type of laugh that seemed to fill the air around them with mirth. “No, certainly not mine. It’s been passed down through Jack’s wife’s family for generations. Used to be a vacation home, but Katherine’s father… graciously gave it to them as a sort of wedding present.”

A house as a wedding present. Wealthy people fascinated David. “That’s very kind of him.”

She huffed the sort of huff that a person did when they found something funny in a sarcastic manner, usually because of some hidden context. David cringed and decided not to push the matter any further, pulling away from the window and shrinking back into his seat. Medda carefully examined her flawless nails as David’s rigid posture jostled about in the bumpy carriage. 

Oh, he was very nervous with the added context. A father who was picky with his nannies and three different children to impress– plus the levels of learning were incredibly different. He’d need to teach the two year old basic speech and developmental skills, the four year old basic things like the alphabet and numbers, and the eleven year old would be well into his schooling and need at least four core subjects. It would be a balancing act between naptimes and meals and other activities to bring the children joy– maybe he’d teach them piano or take them on walks. The sort of things he would’ve liked as a child, or maybe the sort of things Les would’ve liked.

David tapped his fingers over his knee as he resisted the urge to bite his nails, staring fixedly out the window. Every once in a while, a massive country manor rolled past. He couldn’t believe that he was going from his family’s tiny apartment to one of these almost-palaces. It was like something out of a dream.

When the carriage took a sudden right turn, Medda cleared her throat. “David, I think you’re really what the family needs. My son, too. He’s got to be pulled out of his head. No one should live like he’s been living since Katherine passed.”

“I… I’ll do my best, Miss Larkin.” His knee bounced almost uncontrollably, and his stomach was caught in nervous knots. 

“I know you will. If anyone can do this, it’s one of you Jacobs siblings. Born to the breed.” She winked again, playful and charismatic, and even earned a small smile from the anxious man. He wished he could work for Miss Medda again under more pleasant circumstances– like the few times he’d assisted her stage managers for productions at her theatre during his University days.

Now he was facing the most daunting task of his life, and he could scarcely breathe from being so nervous. 

They rolled into a massive gravel drive, the carriage rattling around them as the loveliest gardens David had ever seen appeared. Fountains and hedges laid out in pretty symmetry stared back at him, begging him to stick around and see them in bloom. He could just imagine the front lawn bursting with flowers, green and lovely and smelling sweetly of springtime. Strolls down this lane would be positively unmatched, and his fingers itched for a good book. 

The house itself was even grander than the gardens, almost imposing in its ancient beauty. David guessed, based on the perfect symmetry and minimal detailing, that this manor had been built sometime in the beginning of the last century. He knew tall, reaching Neoclassical pillars when he saw them, and this lovely house with its creeping ivy was an enlightenment thinker’s dream. It stood starkly against the pale blue sky, wisps of pulled-cotton clouds curling outwards behind it. David had never seen such grandeur up close. 

Soon (possibly too soon) their carriage rumbled to a halt and Medda sent him an encouraging smile. David did his absolute best to conceal his nerves and returned the gesture, climbing out of the safety of the carriage once an attendant opened the door.

Before him, the entire household staff stood in lines leading to the door. Men on one side, women on the other. Now David really and truly wanted to throw up, but he focused on the warmth of Miss Medda’s hand as he helped her out of the carriage. He really was far too shabby for this, and shoved his hands into his pockets as he followed her towards the front door. Tall and made of wood, they seemed to walk in slow motion towards it, and David had never been so nervous in his entire life. Before Medda could even reach the door, it was thrown open to reveal a little burst of tiny human energy– a small girl with a round face and flushed cheeks running through to fling her arms around Medda.

“Gammy!” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut happily as Medda lifted her into an embrace.

“Oh, if it isn’t my Luna-bug!” Medda cooed with all the adoration of an enamored grandparent, “You’re so much taller than the last time I saw you!”

Luna laughed loud, like Les used to laugh when he was that tiny, and David got a good look at her face as she cupped Medda’s cheeks in those tiny little hands. She was positively, heart-wrenchingly adorable, with the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen, and short brown hair cut just beneath her chin. Well-kept bangs swept across her forehead and a green ribbon tied half of her hair out of her face, skin tan and cheeks chubby with well-fed youth. She was a tiny thing but she was positively doll-like. “I miss you!”

“I missed you too, baby girl.” Medda pressed a kiss to Luna’s cheek and earned another precious giggle, just as someone else rushed out the front door.

A boy, definitely the eleven-year-old Micheal, followed by two others. Micheal winced and carefully extracted Luna from the older woman’s arms. With all the practiced ease of an adult parent, this eleven-year-old boy settled his little sister on his hip. David was instantly reminded of himself and Les. “I’m sorry, Gram. She wouldn’t sit still.” 

“‘S no problem at all. She’s just excited to meet Mr. David, here.” Medda carefully beckoned him forward, a gentle hand resting on his back. 

He awkwardly stumbled forward and got a good look at the tiny family in front of him, four sets of eyes staring him down, and– 

Oh, he thought, breath stuttering in his chest, they’re just perfect. 

The whole family. From little Luna and her big, brown eyes to the man that was obviously her father, and happened to be the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous man David Jacobs had ever laid eyes upon. God, was he gorgeous. Black hair, dark as silk, seemed to fall in two perfect, wavy curtains over his forehead. His hair swept back and formed little curls at the back of his head, framing his face perfectly. Sharp, furious brown eyes stared David down, set just beneath perfectly shaped brows and thick, black lashes. His jaw was wide and sharp and his bone structure was breathtakingly gorgeous, from his wide nose to his cheekbones to the slope of his brow. A dusting of stubble covered his chin, like a shadow over the bottom of his face. He looked angry, yes, but he looked like a furiously beautiful God plucked straight from Grecian mythology, with his honey-brown eyes and perfectly full lips. His skin was deeply tanned, the color of coffee with just a splash or two of cream. Pretty.

Of course, a man this beautiful was bound to have precious children. Little Luna was held by Micheal, who very well could’ve just been an eleven-year-old version of his father. He had the same black hair, styled a bit differently with the part above his right eye instead of the middle, and the same deeply tanned skin. David saw the same nose and lips and eyebrows, down to the shape of his eyes and ears. Though his eyes were a darker coffee-colored brown, little Micheal was his father’s young twin.

And then Francis, only-two but smiling at David like she knew him already. She had the same round face as her sister with impossibly chubby cheeks and incredibly curly orange hair pulled up in pigtails, one of the most strikingly ginger children David had ever seen. Her eyelashes were long and blonde and her cheeks and tiny nose were pink, and she clung to the fabric of her father’s shirt with grabby hands. She had big, brown eyes too, just like the rest of her family. He knew he was going to have trouble denying these kids anything.

They were a lovely family. All dressed well, all well fed. It would’ve been a perfect picture had Micheal and Jack not been sending him twin glares. 

“It’s lovely to meet you all–” He began, but was cut off immediately by Luna leaping out of her brother’s arms and racing towards him. She latched around his leg and smiled up at him, her cheeks dimpling. Ohmygod she has dimples? He was really in for it now, he was never going to be able to do any discipline. “Well, hello there, Luna–”

“You’re gonna be our new nanny!” She stated matter-of-factly, and then held her hands up in the universal child’s wordless question of ‘pick me up’? David couldn’t help but oblige and carefully lifted her, settling her against his hip. It was remarkable how easy the motions were returning to him, giving him flashbacks of his own twelve-year-old self holding Les at this age. 

“Yes, I am. I hope that’s alright with you?” He asked, very seriously, and raised his eyebrows. 

She giggled and raised her hands to cover her mouth, eyes getting big. “Your eyes are my favorite color!”

He glanced at the green ribbon in her hair and smiled. “I take it that’s a yes?” 

Luna was very suddenly removed by his arms from her father, who was a good three or four inches shorter than David. He looked just about as furious as David had ever seen anyone look as he settled Luna on his other hip. “No climbing the tutor, Lune, you barely know this man.” He ignored her pout and started speaking as he beckoned his son over. “I’m Jack Kelly.”

“David Jacobs.”

He held out his hand for a shake and then realized Jack was holding two children. Awkwardly, he tucked it back into his pockets and tried to ignore the huff of a laugh Jack directed his way. “I know. These are my kids. You’ve met Luna. This is Francis, and this is my son, Micheal. I can assure you that they ain’t gonna need a tutor, but since my Ma insisted–”

“Jack, play nice.” Medda raised her eyebrows at him and crossed her arms. “Surely I don’t need to list off David’s credentials again…”

He muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘credentials don’t mean shit’ before abruptly turning his back and heading inside. David tried not to be surprised by the thickness of his Upper Manhattan accent, because it certainly didn’t match the clothes he was wearing. He had on nice trousers and suspenders and a pale-blue button up, waistcoat hanging unbuttoned beneath the girls he carried. His collar was unbuttoned and his clothes were obviously expensive, but he wore them far too casually for David to understand.

Mr. Kelly started speaking as if he just expected David to listen and follow, and maybe he did expect that, so David quickly jogged to catch up. Medda rolled her eyes and trailed along more slowly, but David listened raptly to every word this man said. “This is my house. I’m pretty sure you’ll have everything you need to teach my kids, but if you don’t, don’t ask me about it. Find Charles and ask him. You can teach your lessons in the library. Your bedroom is in the West Hall– that's where the kids sleep, too— and there’s a washroom at the end of the hall for you to use. Breakfast is at nine, dinner at one and supper at six. That’s pretty much it.”

Jack paused in the middle of the entryway, a room so grand that David’s head was practically spinning. A gorgeous rug on the floor, a paneled ceiling painted with a gorgeous mural, a chandelier and a beautiful staircase made of polished wood– the shorter man gave him a long, disdainful once-over and raised his eyebrows judgmentally, eyes narrowed as he looked back up. He covered Luna’s ears. “You know this ain’t some job you can half-ass in favor of going out and fucking around with your college friends, correct?”

David glanced at the eleven-year-old, who didn’t even flinch at his father’s improper language. Luna was scrabbling to get his hands off, thankfully unaware. Didn’t Jack know that his two-year-old could easily pick up such foul language? She was probably already talking. Thankfully Francis just continued to stare at David like she was trying to figure him out. He bit his tongue and resisted the urge to correct that he didn’t actually have any friends from University and nodded instead. “Yessir.”

“And it ain’t just teaching. You have to be able to care for the kids as well.”

“Yes, Miss Larkin told me as much.” He added on, drawing into the depths of his patience. He’d only just entered the house and this unfairly beautiful man had already decided on his incompetence, without even giving him a chance.

Jack huffed darkly, shifting the girls in his arms. Francis dropped her head onto his shoulder and Luna reached for David, but Jack angled himself away. “Yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Jesus. You’re just a kid.” Jack laughed, shaking his head in disapproval. He drew in a deep breath and pressed his lips together, giving David another long look before those honey-brown eyes narrowed and he tilted his chin almost defiantly. “Well, you start tomorrow. I ain’t holding my breath, though. Ma– you stayin’ for dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll also give Mr. David here a proper tour of the house.” Medda leveled Jack with an almost challenging glare as she linked their arms. “And, you know, actually introduce him to your majordomo and head housemaid.”

He fixed her with a sarcastic grin that was unfairly pretty. David realized where Luna got her dimples, too. Jack’s teeth were imperfect, only further pushing David to wonder how he’d come across ownership of this obvious wealth. “Better you than me.”

With that, he started up the stairs. Micheal, who’d remained entirely silent the whole time, gave David a long once-over (reminding David very much of his father) and then continued up the stairs as well. Mr. Kelly’s strength wasn’t exactly lost on David– he was carrying two toddlers up a staircase and he didn’t even seem to be struggling. Strong and attractive as he was, he was awfully prickly.

He’d just lost his wife. Two years? The wound was still fresh. David decided then and there to give this man some grace. He’d prove him wrong and he’d do it gently and carefully, too. 

“Bye, Mr. David!” Luna called, frantically waving at him from over her father’s shoulder. Francis turned around and mimicked her sister with a bright little smile. “Bye-bye!” 

He waved half-heartedly. At least the girls seemed to like him a little bit. 

A glance back at Medda showed him that she was looking at him in an ‘I-told-you-so’ type of manner, and that did nothing to quell his growing nerves.. It seemed that after a bit of math, Jack had a habit of firing a nanny almost every month. Maybe one or two had lasted a bit longer and brought the average up, but the fact remained– David needed to act fast if he wanted to stick around, and he did. The pay was excellent, the children were cute, and something about the mysterious and gorgeous Mr. Kelly had David intrigued. 

With sudden determination, he turned to Miss Medda and drew his hands from his pockets. “I’d like to meet the staff.”

She grinned. “Attaboy.”

[misfitwashere]

ROBERT REICH

JAN 31

Friends,

The following is by Jean Chrétien, who served as prime minister of Canada from 1993 to 2003. It appeared in The Globe and Mail, Canada’s most widely read newspaper, on January 11, 2025. 

Canadians will never give up the best country in the world to join the U.S.

Jean Chrétien

Today is my 91st birthday.

It’s an opportunity to celebrate with family and friends. To look back on the life I’ve had the privilege to lead. And to reflect on how much this country we all love so much has grown and changed over the course of the nine decades I’ve been on this Earth.

This year, I’ve also decided to give myself a birthday present. I’m going to do something in this article that I don’t do very often anymore, and sound off on a big issue affecting the state of the nation and profoundly bothering me and so many other Canadians: The totally unacceptable insults and unprecedented threats to our very sovereignty from U.S. president-elect Donald Trump.

I have two very clear and simple messages.

To Donald Trump, from one old guy to another: Give your head a shake! What could make you think that Canadians would ever give up the best country in the world — and make no mistake, that is what we are — to join the United States?

I can tell you Canadians prize our independence. We love our country. We have built something here that is the envy of the world — when it comes to compassion, understanding, tolerance and finding a way for people of different backgrounds and faiths to live together in harmony.

We’ve also built a strong social safety net — especially with public health care — that we are very proud of. It’s not perfect, but it’s based on the principle that the most vulnerable among us should be protected.

This may not be the “American Way” or “the Trump Way.” But it is the reality I have witnessed and lived my whole long life.

If you think that threatening and insulting us is going to win us over, you really don’t know a thing about us. You don’t know that when it came to fighting in two world wars for freedom, we signed up — both times — years before your country did. We fought and we sacrificed well beyond our numbers.

We also had the guts to say no to your country when it tried to drag us into a completely unjustified and destabilizing war in Iraq.

We built a nation across the most rugged, challenging geography imaginable. And we did it against the odds.

We may look easy-going. Mild-mannered. But make no mistake, we have spine and toughness.

And that leads me to my second message, to all our leaders, federal and provincial, as well as those who are aspiring to lead our country: Start showing that spine and toughness. That’s what Canadians want to see — what they need to see. It’s called leadership. You need to lead. Canadians are ready to follow.

I know the spirit is there. Ever since Mr. Trump’s attacks, every political party is speaking out in favour of Canada. In fact, it is to my great satisfaction that even the Bloc Québécois is defending Canada.

But you don’t win a hockey game by only playing defence. We all know that even when we satisfy one demand, Mr. Trump will come back with another, bigger demand. That’s not diplomacy; it’s blackmail.

We need another approach — one that will break this cycle.

Mr. Trump has accomplished one thing: He has unified Canadians more than we have been ever before! All leaders across our country have united in resolve to defend Canadian interests.

When I came into office as prime minister, Canada faced a national unity crisis. The threat of Quebec separation was very real. We took action to deal with this existential threat in a manner that made Canadians, including Quebeckers, stronger, more united and even prouder of Canadian values.

Now there is another existential threat. And we once again need to reduce our vulnerability. That is the challenge for this generation of political leaders.

And you won’t accomplish it by using the same old approaches. Just like we did 30 years ago, we need a Plan B for 2025.

Yes, telling the Americans we are their best friends and closest trading partner is good. So is lobbying hard in Washington and the state capitals, pointing out that tariffs will hurt the American economy too. So are retaliatory tariffs — when you are attacked, you have to defend yourself.

But we also have to play offence. Let’s tell Mr. Trump that we too have border issues with the United States. Canada has tough gun control legislation, but illegal guns are pouring in from the U.S. We need to tell him that we expect the United States to act to reduce the number of guns crossing into Canada.

We also want to protect the Arctic. But the United States refuses to recognize the Northwest Passage, insisting that it is an international waterway, even though it flows through the Canadian Arctic as Canadian waters. We need the United States to recognize the Northwest Passage as being Canadian waters.

We also need to reduce Canada’s vulnerability in the first place. We need to be stronger. There are more trade barriers between provinces than between Canada and the United States. Let’s launch a national project to get rid of those barriers! And let’s strengthen the ties that bind this vast nation together through projects such as real national energy grid.

We also have to understand that Mr. Trump isn’t just threatening us; he’s also targeting a growing list of other countries, as well as the European Union itself, and he is just getting started. 

Canada should quickly convene a meeting of the leaders of Denmark, Panama, Mexico, as well as with European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, to formulate a plan for fighting back these threats.

Every time that Mr. Trump opens his mouth, he creates new allies for all of us. So let’s get organized! To fight back against a big, powerful bully, you need strength in numbers.

The whole point is not to wait in dread for Donald Trump’s next blow. It’s to build a country and an international community that can withstand those blows.

Canadians know me. They know I am an optimist. That I am practical. And that I always speak my mind. I made my share of mistakes over a long career, but I never for a moment doubted the decency of my fellow Canadians — or of my political opponents.

The current and future generations of political leaders should remember they are not each other’s enemies — they are opponents. Nobody ever loved the cut-and-thrust of politics more than me, but I always understood that each of us was trying to make a positive contribution to make our community or country a better place.

That spirit is more important now than ever, as we address this new challenge. Our leaders should keep that in mind.

I am 91 today and blessed with good health. I am ready at the ramparts to help defend the independence of our country as I have done all my life.

Vive le Canada!

[oensible]

“He is a player, a person, and a leader, and in particular, in the situation we are in, to have a guy with that makeup, the way he plays, his leadership ability, the type of guy he is, that’s invaluable to our soul,” coach David Quinn said.

“I mean, Wayne Gretzky got traded, but if Mikael Granlund is going to get traded it’s going to be for a hefty price.”

...

“Guys like him are few and far between in this league,” Quinn said.

“He’s always spending time with our young players, he’s got a great approach to the game, he is always on the right side of the play for the most part. He’s a really smart player, and it can’t always be the coach’s voice that’s heard. So it certainly makes your job as a coach a lot easier when you have players like that.”

...

“Size is great, but a lot of big guys don’t play with that competitiveness he has and the smarts that he has,” Quinn said. “That’s never been his problem there. He’s always overcome his size because of his intelligence and his competitiveness.”

“If you want to talk about Mikael Granlund, you gotta pay up. I don’t want him going anywhere."

-2023 Aug 16

At last season's NHL trade deadline, a different Penguins regime paid handsomely for Granlund, dealing a 2023 second-round draft pick to the Nashville Predators for the veteran center who had three years at $5 million AAV left on his contract. Pittsburgh, in the playoff race at the time, was counting on Granlund to provide a significant two-way boost.

Instead, and not all on Granlund, of course, but the Pens fell out of the postseason, and their big-name deadline acquisition finished with just one goal and six points in 21 games.

That’s how the 32-year-old, worth a premium pick in March, suddenly became a cap dump over the summer. To extract Pittsburgh’s 2024 first-round pick for reigning (but expensive) Norris Trophy winner Erik Karlsson, the Sharks had to absorb Granlund, Jan Rutta and Mike Hoffman’s contracts.

...

“Granlund is always in the right place," Quinn said. "He's above the puck, 50-50 wise, he's below it when he needs to be below it. He's just such a smart player.”

On top of that, only five months into his Sharks career, Granlund was just named an alternate captain, a testament to his impact on a young room.

“We were killing a penalty," Quinn said in December. "Him and Zetterlund went out there together. Then the penalty kill ended. Zetterlund went and sat at one end of the bench and Granlund was at the other. Granny stood up and said ‘Zetterlund!’ Patted the bench to say come sit right here, we got stuff to talk about.

“He's got such a great way about him, right? A lot of guys want to talk to people, but they don't know how to deliver it. Granny's got a great way about him, how he understands people, how to handle people, and talk to people. He's got the right to do it because he plays the right way.”

Quinn sees Granlund as a future coach.

-2024 Mar 14

selection of two of my favorite articles about mikael granlund from last season

[manglam-marfach]

dyke!Chilaios has me understanding breeding kink all of a sudden

[thebuttsmcgee]

It kinda feels like when the Owl Crew were all saying their goodbyes to working on the show again.

Nearly everyone in the tags is getting ready for The End.

Like. Damn. It really is the end as far as we know for the entire franchise of The Owl House.

Man.

[jopzer]

some of the takes on this webbed site. good lord you people will not be seeing the pearly gates

[dargonpoop]

loving all this strike action while pluto is stuck in retrograde at the anaretic degree of capricorn sometimes it really is too uncanny

[chrisbangs]

hey i just wanted to tell you that even though i don't know your exact feelings, i can relate a lot to what you've expressed on here... life is very tiring, it's okay to acknowledge that. i won't even pretend that things will get better because who knows and it won't feel like a possibility when you're as down as you say. i get that. i feel the same way right now. if it's any comfort to you, you're not alone in those feelings or thoughts and i know it takes a lot to be vulnerable about it. please forgive me if i'm overstepping by even messaging you about this. i do hope things will get brighter for you, i hope you can find even small things to keep you going. i'm sure one day it'll be different, i want to believe it will anyway. i personally enjoy your presence here and i look forward to whatever content you create, and seeing you find joy in the same group as me is nice. take care friend, do what you can. i'm sending you love

🫂🤍🌙 You're not overstepping at all;; I really appreciated your kind words 😞🖤 It means a lot to me genuinely I appreciate it... I hope that you too start to feel a little warmer and happier as the days go on... Take care of yourself as well ☹️🖤

[navree]

once saw someone saying that saera was the worst treated out of all of jaehaerys’s daughters, the bush administration really did leave some children behind

[rememberwren]

Been thinking about the day Johnny’s mouth takes him too far while the two of you are fucking and he calls you a slut.

He’s probably done it often enough before with other women and partners. He personally likes a little degradation himself in the moment, so it feels odd to imagine that there are people out there who don’t. He’s a little self-centered that way.

I can imagine him above you pinning you to the bed, both your figures sweat-slicked. Your hands around his shoulders, nails digging into his back as he tries to drill his cock through you and into the mattress. He’d been edging you for a while, working you up to a plateau that he refuses to let you tumble over, and it has you a little more vocal than usual. A little less composed. A little more needy.

He thinks you’re perfect like this, brain leaking from your ears, mouth parted in a perpetual gasp, throat going raw from all your pleadings. Johnny’s naturally a yapper, so he’s probably been providing in depth (we’re talking unabridged War And Peace length) narration of the entire event, and it seems like such a small thing for him to slip the word amongst all the praises he lavishes on you.

He doesn’t understand why you go stiff and shocked underneath him.

“I’m not a slut,” you mutter into the silence when his thrusts stop abruptly. Except you kind of were acting like one, weren’t you? Moaning and gasping, begging. For the first time with Johnny, you feel ashamed. Embarrassed by your reaction to the sex and by your reaction to the word in equal measure.

Credit to himself, Johnny knows when the moment has passed. He slips out of you and gathers you up even against your embarrassed protests—God, you’re fine, it’s not a big deal, it just caught you off guard that’s all!—and apologizes, reaffirms to you that he doesn’t really think such a thing about you. He doesn’t even really believe in sluts; why shouldn’t people do and crave the things that feel good? That’s just human nature, baby.

I imagine you listen and nod along to his heartfelt apologies (and of course you know he means them), but he can see the sawdust-sized speck of anxiety in your eye that doesn’t dissipate. He knows that the window of opportunity to snuff out that ember is closing fast, so his method of drowning it out is to pin you down and to show you what real slut behavior looks like.