#tugs blair

[thisisadriana4evertugsfan]

el amor platonico de burke ☠🖤

[sollyinpurplepants]

Happy holidays to you too!!!

Works that are never destined to be finished, I put them off for a long time and decided to leave them like this, some of the art is already more than a year or half a year old. There are also old reddesigns of tugs here

And Merry Christmas to all of you 🎄🎉

@sollyinpurplepants

[reluctantfir0]

Sometime before the 50th Games:

Lenore Dove, tugging on Haymitch: Come on, let's go to the meadow and sit and watch the pretty birds!!!!

Haymitch, letting himself be tugged: Okay!

Burdock, pulling Haymitch back: Nuh uh, today's Thursday which means I get to hang out with MY FRIEND, who I met FIRST! He's coming with Blair and I to the hob so let's go, Hay.

Lenore Dove, tugging back: He's my All-Fire, Burdie, which trumps friendship. Plus you had him with you hunting all of yesterday anyway so I'm just getting even! Now come along, Hay.

Burdock: I introduced you to HIM. I get authority on this. Don't you move a muscle, Hay!

Haymitch, being tugged: Guys please my Ma stitched this up two days ago.

Blair, eating jerky and watching: Have you tried telling them who you wanna hang out with, Hay?

Haymitch: Yeah but they stopped acknowledging me a while back so I gotta let this play out, unfortunately.

Blair: Bummer [hands out jerky in the middle of a scream and tug match] here.

Haymitch: Thanks. [Screaming argument continues]

[kthologue]

will they wont they – dick grayson

synopsis. he had one job. but when it comes to you, dick grayson has never been good at following the rules.

contents. fluff, (implied) exes to lovers, catwoman!reader, batcat dynamic, theyre in love your honor

notes. i wanted a bruce and selina parallel except these two finally give in. this concept has been plaguing my for far too long. everyone thank blair for the idea + part 2

“And under no condition should you flirt with her,” Barbara’s voice crackles through his comms, sharp with warning. “This is a quick intel mission. You’re in and out, Nightwing.”

Dick chuckles. “Got it. Best behavior.”

Word had gotten back to the Batcave that, after Catwoman’s arrest, Catgirl was making moves to finish what her predecessor started. Even worse, there were rumors of Catwoman’s involvement in the riots of Blackgate Penitentiary. Usually, Gotham’s affairs stayed strictly in Bruce’s hands, but Dick had fought hard for this case. Maybe too hard.

“Nightwing,” Oracle’s voice falters as the group watches the hidden camera feed from his suit. “Did you… style your hair?”

Dick freezes mid-motion, his fingers still carding through his dark locks in the reflection of a nearby window.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” He clears his throat, schooling his expression. Jason’s laughter bursts through the comms like a gunshot.

“Oh, this is priceless,” Jason wheezes. “Loverboy's got it bad.”

Dick exhales through his nose, shaking his head as he continues forward. “Can’t believe you guys planted a camera on me. Have you no trust?”

“It’s not about trust, Dick,” Bruce finally speaks, his voice cool and measured. “It’s about intelligence gathering.”

Of course. Ever the pragmatist.

Dick rolls his shoulders, trying to shake the unease creeping in. “Nah. My girl would never do anything to hurt me.” His voice dips. “Nothing I wouldn’t enjoy, anyway.”

Jason groans. “Barf.”

Oracle sighs. “Loverboy, focus.”

Dick lifts his hands in mock surrender, but his smirk lingers, betraying him. “Alright, alright.”

By the time Dick reaches the coordinates he was sent, the abandoned building seemed to be empty. Devoid of any criminal activity that was suspected.

Or at least, that’s how it looks.

Nightwing lands silently on the rooftop, scanning the darkened windows. No movement. No heat signatures. Just the city humming below, a steady pulse against the quiet.

Any amateur would enter the building to start his investigation, but Dick knew you better than that.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips.

You’re here. Somewhere. Watching.

His lips twitch. “Y’know, most people say hello first.”

Silence. 

A shift in the shadows, a whisper of movement, too fast for anyone else to catch.

He’s airborne for half a second before his back slams against the rooftop. His breath escapes in a sharp huff, and before he can fully register what was happening, a warmth presses close, your weight against him, a knee braced against his ribs, gloved fingers skimming the hollow of his throat. Light. Barely there. A tease, not a threat.

“Thought I’d mix it up,” you murmur.

The moonlight frames you in silver, your mask casting half your face in shadow. He watches the way your lips quirk, the way your breath fans against his jaw, closer than necessary. Closer than you should be.

He should move. Counter. Flip you.

Instead, his fingers curl around your wrist, his thumb ghosting over your pulse point.

Dick blinks up at you, the city lights outlining the curve of your smirk.

“Well,” he breathes, grin unfazed. “You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted.”

You hum, tilting your head. “I’d say sorry, but you walked right into it.”

Your knee eases up just enough for him to shift. It’s all he needs.

With a twist, he sweeps your leg from under you, flipping them. Now you’re the one pinned, but your expression doesn’t change—if anything, your smirk deepens.

“Better,” you muse. “Almost had me there.”

“Almost?” He tuts. “You wound me.”

Then, without hesitation, you hook your leg around his waist and throw your weight into a roll. The two of you tumble, shifting control back and forth, dodging and countering, neither ever fully committing to an actual strike.

It’s a dance. One you both know by heart.

You feint left and he dodges too slow. Your fist brushes his jaw, not a real hit, just enough to make him feel it.

“You’re distracted,” you observe, eyes glinting.

He exhales, grip tightening around your wrist just enough to keep you close. “Maybe I just like having you this close.”

“Always the flatterer.”

For a moment, neither moves. Your breaths mix, city lights reflecting in your masked gaze.

Then, you blow him a kiss, fingers ghost over his lips before twisting free.

A quick, effortless slip, like smoke through his fingers. By the time he blinks, you’re already a few feet away, perched on the edge of the rooftop, ready to make your exit. 

His comm buzzes. Jason’s voice, laced with amusement: “Tell me you’re at least trying to win.”

Dick ignores him.

Instead, his eyes flick toward the shadows. "C’mon, sweetheart, you really want it to end so soon?" He calls, the playful edge to his voice betraying the pulse of something more intense. “I’m starting to have fun.”

“Yeah?” You step into the moonlight, half a step in front of him. “You’re losing, horribly.”

You paused.

“But I’ve always liked how optimistic you were, Grayson. It’s cute.”

He can’t help but smile at the sound of his last name leaving your lips with a casualness that does something to him. He’s heard it from everyone, whether it be taunts or flirty whispers, but from you, it lands differently.

“I’m losing?” He raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his voice, but his heart pounds just a little faster. “I don’t think I feel like a loser.” In fact, he feels more alive than ever, adrenaline coursing through him, sparks erupting with every quip you exchanged. 

You let out a laugh, the sound light and effortless. “I’ve transported all of the artifacts from the Gotham Museum hours before you even got here.”

His eyes narrow slightly, but he stays relaxed. He’ll deal with that later. “You know that’s not why I’m here.”

You tilt your head, smirking. “No?”

He steps closer. Slowly. “No,” he repeats, his voice dropping to a softer tone, low enough that it’s just for you.

You watch him, waiting.

He stops when you’re chest to chest, both of you breathing a little heavier now. The proximity is too close. Too much. And yet, neither of you move away.

“Then, what are you here for?”

For a heartbeat, the world slows, and he sees it, something soft in your eyes, hidden behind the mask. Something more than the game you’ve been playing.

“You know,” his voice softens.

But it’s fleeting. Gone before he can fully grasp it, and it hits him harder than he expects.

For a moment, he sees your own eyes underneath the black eye mask softening as they flicker between his own. But it’s gone as soon as it comes and Dick mourns it.

You break the moment first, pulling back just slightly, the warmth of your body still lingering as you glance away. “I’m not… involved with that and you know it,” you say, tone sharp but steady.

You’re not naive. He knows you’ve heard of the rumors circulating about Blackgate and Selina’s growing influence in the prison.

He catches your hand when you try to push him away, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. It’s the same dance they’ve done for years—one step forward, then the pull.

“Yeah, I know,” he murmurs.

“Obviously not.” Your eyes flash as you look away, trying to hide the strain in your voice. “You don’t trust me.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles. “You know I do, sweetheart.” His voice softens, and he steps even closer, bringing his other hand to your jaw, his fingers gently guiding your gaze back to his.

“I just needed to confirm.” His breath catches in his chest as he leans in, his lips almost brushing yours. “You know. B and his procedures.”

He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. You’re not backing away, but you’re holding yourself together with that quiet strength of yours.

“Dick,” Oracle warns him through the comm. He can feel Bruce’s silent warning echoing through his mind. He’s overstepped.

But Dick doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care about the mission anymore. Not when you’re standing there, eyes locked on his, body close enough that all he can think about is what it would be like to not fight this anymore.

With a quiet resolve, he reaches for his comm, deactivating it, then rips the camera from his suit, crushing it under his foot. The sound of the camera breaking echoes through the silent night, and he watches as surprise flickers in your eyes.

“You’re insane,” you murmur, the disbelief in your voice mixing with relief.

Dick steps even closer, no words now, just the steady thrum of his pulse and the way his body wants to close the distance. “Mission completed anyway,” he mutters, his lips curving into a grin, but it’s softer now.

“As always,” you whisper, your eyes flicking to the shattered camera. There’s a quiet moment where everything feels like it’s teetering on the edge.

Then, without another word, he pulls you in, his lips crashing into yours, soft but insistent. It’s everything he’s wanted, everything you’ve been dancing around for far too long.

Your hands slide up his chest, fingers curling into his suit as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing into yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The kiss is slow, almost agonizing in its sweetness. No more games, no more hesitating. Just the two of you, finally letting go. His hand rests on the back of your neck, fingers tracing down every curve.

“That,” he says, voice husky, “was a mission well done.”

Your eyes twinkle, and you don’t pull away. “You know you’re never going to hear the end of this, right?”

“Worth it,” he grins. “Every second.”

thank you for reading! reblogs n comments are appreciated :3

[nightcourtnovels]

His Sunshine

Azriel x reader

Summary: A sunny afternoon with Azriel and his twin girls!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The midday sun poured down in golden waves, warming the lush grass of your backyard. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the towering trees, and the air smelled of fresh blooms and sun-kissed earth. It was the kind of day that begged to be spent outside — and that was exactly what Azriel and your twin daughters were doing.

You sat on a blanket beneath one of the trees, your back resting against the trunk as you held a book in your hands. But reading had quickly become secondary to watching them.

Azriel stood in the middle of the yard, his scarred hands were steady as he helped Blair, one of your five-year-old daughters, balance a small wooden sword in her grip. Her tiny wings twitched behind her, still not quite strong enough to fly, but determined nonetheless. A few stray shadows gathered around the sword to help lift the weight and keep it steady in her hands.

“Hold it tighter, just like that,” Azriel instructed gently, kneeling so he was eye level with her. “Now, what do you do if someone comes at you from the side?”

Blair grinned, fierce and confident like her father. “Swing low and block!” she declared, slicing her wooden sword through the air. Shadows following the movement.

Azriel laughed, the sound rich and warm. “That’s my girl.”

A few feet away, Valerie was busy building a castle out of sticks and rocks, entirely uninterested in swordplay. Her giggles, constant, every time a shadow brought her another rock. Every so often she would call out to Azriel, demanding his attention. “Papa, look!” she yelled, gesturing to her wonky, crooked castle. “It’s almost done!”

Azriel turned, his face lighting up as though she had constructed an actual palace. “It’s perfect, princess,” he praised. “But every castle needs a moat.”

Valerie gasped, immediately scurrying off to gather more rocks for her imaginary moat, his shadows racing after her. Blair, however, was still waving her sword around, fiercely practicing the move Azriel had just taught her.

And you… Well, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

Your mate. The deadly, cold-hearted Shadowsinger that once carried the weight of the world on his shoulders — now smiling so easily, so freely, with his daughters. His voice was warm, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his scarred hands steady as they gently corrected Blair’s stance or praised Valerie’s creativity.

And Mother above, you loved him so much it hurt.

“You’re staring.”

You blinked, your cheeks flushing. Azriel’s gaze had found yours, his lips tugging into a knowing smirk.

“And you’re ridiculously handsome,” you shot back casually, turning a page in your book as though you hadn’t been caught.

Azriel laughed under his breath, but his attention quickly snapped back to Blair as she charged at him with her wooden sword. Without missing a beat, Azriel dropped into a dramatic defensive stance, his hands held up. “Oh no! The mighty warrior has come to hurt me!”

“I’m not a warrior — I’m a Valkyrie!” Blair corrected proudly before swinging at his legs.

Azriel gasped, stumbling back like she had actually struck him. “You’re too strong!” he yelled, voice full of playful dramatics. “I’m no match for a Valkyrie!”

Blair dissolved into giggles, attacking again and again as Azriel kept stumbling back, faking his imminent defeat. Eventually, she managed to knock his legs out from under him, and he collapsed into the grass with an exaggerated groan.

“You’ve defeated me,” he declared, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “The Valkyrie has won!”

“YES!” Blair shrieked, throwing her sword to the ground and climbing on top of him in triumph. “I win! I win!”

Valerie abandoned her castle at the sound of victory, racing over. “I wanna win too!” she demanded, jumping onto Azriel’s stomach without hesitation.

Azriel oofed, dramatically tossing his head back in mock agony. “Ah! Two valkyries! I’m doomed!”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from your throat, watching as both your daughters climbed and wrestled with their father like he was some sort of mountain to conquer. His shadows swirling around them. Azriel was laughing too — a deep, carefree sound you would never grow tired of.

And cauldron, it was a sight. His wings sprawled across the grass, his strong hands gently keeping the girls from accidentally hurting themselves or their wings. His smile, rare and genuine, shining brighter than the sun itself.

Eventually, the girls succeeded in pinning him. Both were perched victoriously on his chest, giggling as he pretended to struggle. “You’re too strong for me,” he groaned. “I surrender. You win, my loves.”

Valerie turned her head, her gaze landing on you. “Mama! Look! We defeated Papa!”

You grinned, closing your book and standing. “Both of you?” you teased as you crossed the yard. “He didn’t even stand a chance, did he?”

“Nope!” Blair declared proudly. “We’re the strongest Valkyries ever!”

Azriel laughed from where he lay pinned. “That you are.”

You finally reached them, smiling down at your mate as he lay sprawled in the grass, a daughter perched on each side of him. His hazel eyes — soft, full of something devotional — immediately locked onto yours. “I think they get their strength from their mother,” he murmured, just for you.

Your heart squeezed. Cauldron, you loved this male.

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, kneeling beside him. “I think they get their dramatics from their father.”

Azriel chuckled, but before he could respond, Blair spoke up. “Kiss Mama!” she demanded.

Azriel’s brows shot up. “What?”

Valerie immediately joined in. “Yeah! Kiss Mama! She’s your mate — you have to!”

Azriel turned his head toward you, clearly biting back a laugh. “They’re quite demanding, aren’t they?”

You grinned. “I wonder where they get that from.”

And then, with both girls watching expectantly, Azriel sat up, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. It was soft, filled with the kind of love that could only exist between two souls who had fought like hell to find peace.

The girls squealed in delight. “Ew! Gross!” Valerie giggled, covering her eyes.

“Again!” Blair demanded.

You laughed against Azriel’s lips, pulling away just enough to murmur, “Your daughters are quite the little matchmakers.”

Azriel smiled, his nose brushing yours. “Smart girls.” Then, lowering his voice just enough that only you could hear, he added, “But they don’t realize I’d kiss you all day if they let me.”

Heat bloomed in your chest. “Lucky for you,” you whispered back, “I’d let you.”

Another squeal of protest from Valerie had you both laughing, and with a playful groan, Azriel finally stood — hoisting both girls up in his arms as they giggled and shrieked.

And you just stood there, watching the love of your life become the father he never thought he deserved to be. Watching the man who once lived in shadows thrive in the sunlight of his daughters’ laughter.

And Cauldron above — you had never been more in love.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ideas Lying Around

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in DC TOMORROW (Mar 4), and in RICHMOND on WEDNESDAY (Mar 5). More tour dates here. Mail-order signed copies from LA's Diesel Books.

I get a special pleasure from citing Milton Friedman. I like to imagine that as I do, he groans around the red-hot spit protruding from his jaws, prompting howls of laughter from the demons who pelt him with molten faeces for all eternity.

If you're lucky enough not to know about Friedman, here's the short version. Friedman was a kind of court sorcerer to Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, Augusto Pinochet, and other assorted authoritarian, hard-right leaders who set us on the path to the hellscape we inhabit today. But before Friedman rose to prominence and influence, he was a crank. Specifically, he was a crank who dedicated his life to rolling back all the progress of the New Deal and re-establishing the Gilded Age:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/06/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom/

In his crank days, people were justifiably skeptical of this project. "Milton," they'd say, "people like New Deal programs. They like the minimum wage, the 40-hour work-week, and the assurance that they won't be maimed, poisoned, burned alive, or otherwise killed on the job. They relish a dignified retirement, quality education for their children, and the assurance that no one is starving to death in their country's borders. People like national parks! They like Medicare! They like libraries, museums, and reliable weather forecasts! How, Milton, do you propose to convince the vast majority of people that they should settle for being forelock-tugging plebs, groveling before their social betters for the chance to scrub their toilets?"

Friedman had an answer: "In times of crisis, ideas can move from the fringe to the center in an eyeblink. Our job is to keep good ideas lying around, in anticipation of that crisis."

When the oil crisis hit, when prices spiked in the USA and abroad, Friedman seized his opportunity. The years following the oil crisis saw a violent political revolution in which organized labor, social justice movements, and the political opposition to oligarchy were crushed under police batons and the guns of Pinochet's thugs. The world was transformed. Left parties like UK Labour were remade as austerity-pilled neoliberals (not for nothing did Margaret Thatcher call Tony Blair "her greatest accomplishment," and it took Bill Clinton to pass a welfare "reform" bill that was too extreme even for Reagan to get through Congress).

Friedman was a monster.

But.

He had a hell of a theory of change.

When prices spiral, when people can't pay their bills anymore, when their retirement savings are wiped out, anything is possible. The oil crisis wasn't Jimmy Carter's fault, but the voters still delivered a Ba'ath Party-style Republican majority in 1980. The covid shocks weren't the fault of the world governments that presided over pandemic inflation, but they were creamed in the ensuing elections.

Let's talk about Trump's tariffs here. Trump's goal is to force a re-shoring of the American industrial capacity that was shipped to low-wage, low-regulation corporate havens around the world after the Reagan revolution. The pandemic provided a vivid lesson about the problems with long, brittle supply chains where all the slack has been extracted and converted to dividends and stock buybacks. That kind of system may work well – at least to the extent that it keeps Walmart's shelves full of cheap goods – but holy shit did it ever fail badly. Re-shoring is a good idea, as are other forms of pro-resiliency industrial policy.

But re-shoring doesn't happen overnight. As we saw during China's covid lockdowns, when one supplier ceases to ship goods, other suppliers can't spring up overnight to take up the slack. China itself became a manufacturing powerhouse thanks to extensive state support and planning, and it took decades. That kind of patient, long-run, planned process is the best-case scenario (and it still caused wrenching dislocations to Chinese society). Simply throwing up tariff walls and demanding that industry figure it out – amid the resulting economic chaos and the political instability it brings – isn't a plan, it's a disaster.

Redistributing the means of production around the world is a necessary and urgent project, but it won't be advanced through Trump's rapid, unscheduled mid-air disassembly of the global system of trade. Tariffs will cause breakdowns in neoliberalism's fragile supply chains, and the ensuing chaos – mass unemployment, shortages, political rage – will make it even harder for countries (including the USA) to rebuild the productive capacity vaporized by 40 years of neoliberalism.

This is our oil crisis, in other worlds: a moment in which a belligerent superpower's ill-considered monkeying with the underpinnings of global production will cause chaos, the crisis in which "ideas can move from the periphery to the center" in an eyeblink. If Steve Bannon can call himself a Leninist, then leftists can call themselves Friedmanites. This is our opportunity.

Or rather, it's our opportunity to seize – or lose. Governments are defaulting to retaliatory tariffs as the best response to Trump's tariffs. This is political poison: making everything your country imports from the USA more expensive is a very weird way to punish America for its trade war. Remember the glaring lesson of pandemic inflation: a government that presides over rising prices will be destroyed by the electorate.

There's a much better alternative, one that strikes at the very roots of American oligarchy, whose extreme wealth and corrosive political influence comes from its holdings in rent-extracting monopolies, especially Big Tech monopolies.

Tech giants are the major factor in US economic health. Take Big Tech stocks out of the S&P 500 and you've got a stagnant market punctuated by periods of decline. Superficially, US tech companies have different sources of extraordinary profit, but a closer look reveals that they all share the same foundation: Big Tech makes the bulk of its money in the form of monopoly rents, backstopped by global IP treaties.

Apple and Google take a 30% cut of every dollar spent in an app, and it's a felony to jailbreak a phone to make a new app store with the industry standard 1-3% transaction fees. Google and Meta take 51% out of every ad dollar, and publishers and advertisers are locked into their ecosystems by abusive contracts and technological countermeasures. HP charges $10,000/gallon for the colored water you put in your printer, and third-party ink and refills violate the anti-circumvention laws the US has crammed down the throats of every country's legislature. Tesla makes its fattest margins by renting you features that are installed in your car at the factory, from autopilot to the ability to use your battery's whole charge, raking in monthly fees from you and anyone you sell your car to – and the reason your mechanic can't just permanently unlock all that DLC for $50 is the IP laws that your country agreed to enforce in order to trade with the USA. Mechanics pay $10k/year per manufacturer for the tools to interpret the error codes generated by your car, and the only reason no one is selling a $50/month universal diagnostic service is – once again – US-originated IP laws that came in a parcel with trade agreements that gave your country's exporters access to US markets. Farmers pay John Deere $200 every time they fix their own tractors, because the repairs won't work until a technician comes out and types an unlock code into the tractor's keyboard – and bypassing that unlock code is a crime under the laws passed to comply with international treaties.

These aren't profits – they're rents. It's money Big Tech gets from owning a factor of production, not money it gets from actually making something. The app maker takes all the risks, but Apple and Google cream off 30% of their gross income. Big Tech's profits are almost an afterthought when compared to its rents, the junk-fee platform fees and farcically expensive consumables. For tech firms, capitalism was a transitional phase between feudalism…and technofeudalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

America's robust GDP figures are a mirage, artificially buoyed up by the monopoly rents extracted by US Big Tech, who prey on Americans and foreigners:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/18/pikettys-productivity/#reaganomics-revenge

But foreigners don't have to tolerate this nonsense. Governments around the world signed up to protect giant American companies from small domestic competitors (from local app stores – for phones, games consoles, and IoT gadgets – to local printer cartridge remanufacturers) on the promise of tariff-free access to US markets. With Trump imposing tariffs will-ye or nill-ye on America's trading partners large and small, there is no reason to go on delivering rents to US Big Tech.

The first country or bloc (hi there, EU!) to do this will have a giant first-mover advantage, and could become a global export powerhouse, dominating the lucrative markets for tools that strike at the highest-margin lines of business of the most profitable companies in the history of the human race. Like Jeff Bezos told the publishers: "your margin is my opportunity":

https://www.marketplacepulse.com/articles/the-cost-of-your-margin-is-my-opportunity

In times of crisis, ideas can move from the periphery to the center in an eyeblink. Many of us have spent decades organizing and mobilizing against these extractive, dangerous, destabilizing abuses of technology, where the computer-powered devices we rely on for everything are designed to serve their manufacturers' shareholders, at our expense. And yet, these technologies have only proliferated, infecting everything from insulin pumps and ventilators to coffee makers and "smart" TVs.

It's time for a global race to the top – for countries to compete with one another to see who will capture US Big Tech's margins the fastest and most aggressively. Not only will this make things cheaper for everyone else in the world – it'll also make things cheaper for Americans, because once there is a global, profitable trade in software that jailbreaks your Big Tech devices and services, it will surely leak across the US border. Canada doesn't have to confine itself to selling reasonably priced pharmaceuticals to beleaguered Americans – it can also set up a brisk trade in the tools of technological self-determination and liberation from Big Tech bondage.

Taking the margins for Big Tech's most profitable enterprises to zero, globally, will strike at the very heart of American oligarchy, and the hundreds of millions tech giants flushed into the political system to put Trump into office again. A race to the top for technological liberation benefits everyone – including Americans.

Truly, it would be a rising tide that lifted all boats (except for oligarchs' superyachts - those, it will swamp and sink).

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/03/friedmanite/#oil-crisis-two-point-oh

[stxrrkissed]

── ۶ৎ JEALOUSY JEALOUSY .ᐟ

꣑ꦌ chuck bass x fem!reader ৴ LENGTH 798

DESCRIPTION once another guy sets his eyes on you, chuck finds himself jealous.

CONTENT just fluff ꣑ jealous!chuck.

THOUGHTS my first chuck fic!! this was supposed to be out much earlier but something came up. i hope you guys like it.

𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts 𝒾𝓋. based on this ask

CHUCK BASS IS IMPORTANT. POISED. Full of unwavering self-confidence. He doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. He has no reason to. He's as confident in his relationship with you as he is in that he'll fulfill his father’s legacy one day. But this guy talking to you right now, thinking that he's entitled to you in any way... who the hell does he think he is?"

Chuck tried so hard not to let it bother him, trying to enjoy the party that you all attended, it’s thrown by a new elite person that has yet to show their face, he didn’t even want to come, he’d rather stay in bed, cuddle up next to you but you wanted to come because Blair and Serena was also going.

Chuck focuses his glare on the guy standing in front of you as he takes a sip out of the drink he’s been nursing for the past few minutes. His teeth grinding together as the guy stood so close to what was his, it’s not like you were entertaining him as you denied every one of his attempts but he isn’t letting up. “Are you there?” Nate questions as he notices he hasn’t been listening to anything he’s been saying for the past few minutes.

“You know I’m not. Don’t take it personal. Who is that guy?”

Nate rolls his eyes at his response before looking in the direction, Chuck is looking in. “Dude, that’s Jackson. This is his party, everyone’s talking about him, he’s gossip girl's new target.” Nate explains as Chuck sets his cup on the table beside them.

“Oh I see what’s happening, you’re jealous,” Nate snickers, couldn’t believe his eyes as he watches Chuck roll his eyes at him. “You know (name) only has eyes for you,” he adds.

While Nate speaks the truth, it only falls on deaf ears. While he knows you wouldn’t entertain someone else, it has been quite a long time since someone dared to try to flirt with you knowing damn well you belonged to him and him only. He’s the only one that gets to stand as close to you as the guy is to you now.

“How about I take you out this weekend, is 8 fine for you?”

You exhale, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You had already let this guy know that you’re not interested in him and he still wasn’t budging, kept trying to find ways for you to say yes to his offer; you try to be nice as this was his party, you didn’t want to be rude.

No one could hold a candle to Chuck as no one made you feel the way you feel with him, he treats you with respect, a trait this guy obviously lacks.

You look around, searching through the crowd for your boyfriend, the only person besides the girls you want to be close to so you can get away from this dude.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips once you lock eyes with him, watching as he walks up to you with confidence written all over him, a sight that always has you head over heels with him. “Um… hello? Did you hear what I said?” Jackson questions, snapping his fingers in your face enough to make you annoyed.

“I’m sorry but she’s with me,” Chuck states, placing his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, just being his hold; you immediately melt in his touch as shock takes over Jackson's face “Incase, you didn’t know but she’s happily taken.”

You lay your head against his shoulder as he lays a soft kiss on your forehead, another thing that made your heart flutter about him.

“Whatever, call me when you break things off with him,” Jackson says, walking away as you roll your eyes briefly before giving your full attention to Chuck who had an angry expression on his face.

“Don’t listen to him babe, I would never leave you.” You comment, rubbing his chest, looking up into his eyes. “I know.” He responds but a smirk spreads across your face, knowing by the look on his face having seen it many times before in the beginning of your relationship although he always claims he never gets jealous but you always saw right through it.

“Oh my god, you are jealous.” you make eye contact with him, not being able to hold in the laughter that’s spilling out your mouth. “Now why would I be jealous? I’m Chuck Bass and no one can ever replace me.” He says proudly and you laugh more, holding onto him tightly.

“Come on, let's get home, I will have more fun there than here,” you say calmly, leading him to the exit as he raises an eyebrow, happy that he can finally go home and have you to himself, thinking about the day he’d finally marry you, claiming you as his wife to the world.

thank you for reading! © stxrrkissed 2025. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, repost or translate.

[princessbrunette]

if anyone understands having a tricky relationship with their father, it’s nate archibald. ౨ৎ

somethin small i wrote abt nate bc a few people asked. cw: daddy kink, daddy issues, smut

that distant stare of yours, that pout as you stare out over the city from his apartment window. he knows it all too well. approaches you softly with a slight sympathetic pout of his own, running a hand over your head and bringing your cheek to his chest so he can kiss the top of your head. he couldn’t give you a better father, but he could give you that guidance and love you crave so much. he could do better.

so he gives you everything — you want that dress costing an arm and a leg? it’s already hanging in your side of the closet at his apartment. you too sleepy as you sit at the kitchen table in the morning after a long night with him? he’s forking up a perfect biteful of pancake and bringing it to your lips with a grin, happy to do so. he never gets mad when you snap at him, something deeper clearly triggering such a sudden reaction— only frowning and shaking his head, closing in on you to thumb at your cheek. “whats with the attitude? somethings on your mind. talk to me.” he coo’s empathetically.

it’s not just you that noticed— blair’s smug but somewhat gleeful smile as she totters alongside nate on the street, nudging him with a sharp elbow through her maison margiela coat. “well, you know how thrilled i am for you to finally be tugging along a girl of taste. even if i have to watch you treat her like you snatched her from the cradle yourself.”

he huffs out a laugh, shooting her a confused glance, walking alongside her with his hands in his pockets. “what are you talking about? she’s like one year younger than me. nearly two.”

“age isn’t nothing but a number, nate— i’m talking about the coddling, tell me — does she call you daddy in just the bedroom or do you extend that to all hours of the day?”

“jesus— need i remind you of boundaries blair, what i do with my girlfriend is none of your business… but— no, she doesn’t call me that.”

but it stayed bouncing around his brain like a ping pong ball. started noticing all the little things, how much more you’d cling to him after an argument with your father. selfishly, he almost started wishing you’d fight more— just so he could dote on you like that. the whole ‘daddy’ thing wouldn’t be so weird right? the thought of it had him reaching down to readjust in his tight suit pants, clearing his throat. uncomfortable? yes. but sexy, crazily so.

maybe he could milk it out of you. enforce a little more guidance until you’re putty in his hand. it wouldn’t be hard, he saw the way you’d blink at him all doe eyed when he’d tell you not to stay up too late, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. he’d speak slower, calmer, stand closer, make him the only thing you can see, think about even. he was gentle, loving, held eye contact super well — too well, made your face get hot and wanna look away. made you wanna shrink, go all mushy in your brain. “hey, look at me when i talk to you sweetheart. i don’t bite, you know.” he smiles, and there’s no threat present but god you’d never disobey him. never your nate.

it finally slips out when he’s got your thighs pinned open, strong arms wrapped around them whilst he sucks on your clit. he was always good at that, making you cum. nate knew just how to destress you after a long stressful day, far too stressful for his sweet girl. he laps you up, pressing thick fingers deep inside gummy walls, dribbling over your slit.

“nnnnnn—” you can’t even get his name out, clutching a pink throw pillow.

“i know, baby.” he hums.

“daddy!” you cry, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid as if he was expecting it. if you’d been more with it, you would have seen him bite back a proud chuckle, shoulders relaxing just a little. he keeps at it, stroking the inside of your sensitive thighs.

“thats right. tell daddy how it feels.”

[signoferoda]

THE LOVE WE LEFT BEHIND

summary: a fic based on this post by @harrysblackcoat about ex husband!harry

The bustling aisles of the supermarket were crowded with shoppers, each lost in their own little world of grocery lists and meal plans. Among them, Harry navigated with practiced ease, a small smile playing on his lips as he tossed items into his basket. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. It wouldn't do him any favours being late for their weekly family dinner.

These weekly family dinners were something he cherished, a remnant of the time when things were simpler between him and y/n. Even though they were no longer together, they both agreed to keep the routine for the sake of the kids—and perhaps, for themselves as well.

As Harry scanned the shelves, his eyes landed on a familiar sight. There, nestled among the other sweets, was Y/N's favourite chocolate. Without a second thought, he reached out and grabbed a few bars, adding them to his basket, ignoring the pang of longing in his chest. It was a small gesture, but one that brought a smile to his face, nonetheless. Friendly, he told himself. Just a friendly gesture.

He continued down the aisle, picking up the last few items on the list y/n had sent him when he told her he was popping into Tescos before meeting her at her house. As he turned the corner to the checkout, he couldn't help but think about Y/N. It had been months since their divorce, but the feelings he had for her hadn't diminished. If anything, seeing her every week only made him realise how much he still loved her.

With the groceries bagged and paid for, Harry headed to his car. The drive to Y/N's house was a short one, but it gave him enough time to replay the memories of their time together. The laughter, the late-night talks, the way she used to cuddle up to him on the couch. He sighed, pushing those thoughts away as he pulled into her driveway.

Y/N opened the door before he could knock, a warm smile on her face. "Hey, come on in."

"Hey," he replied, stepping inside and handing her the bags. "Got everything on the list."

She glanced through the bags and paused when she saw the chocolates. "Harry, you didn't have to—"

"I know," he interrupted, his heart beating a little faster. "I saw them and thought of you."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, her resolve wavering for a moment.

But then she remembered why they were no longer together-the hurt, the betrayal, the shattered dreams-and she pushed the thought aside.

"Thanks," she said, forcing a smile as she took her seat at the table.

As they moved to the kitchen to put away the groceries, their 4 year old daughter, Blair, came running in. "Daddy!" she squealed, wrapping her small arms around Harry's legs.

Harry scooped her up, laughing. "Hey, my buzzing bee! Missed you."

Blair grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Missed you too, Daddy."

Y/N watched them, a fond expression on her face. Seeing Harry with their children always tugged at her heartstrings. Despite everything, he was an amazing father, and she couldn't deny the connection they all still shared.

"How's Rosa?" Harry asked, referring to their other daughter.

"She's upstairs napping," Y/N replied. "Should be up soon."

"Good," he said, setting Blair down. "I can't wait to see her."

As they all sat down for dinner after Blair woke up, Harry found himself stealing glances at Y/N. She looked beautiful as always, her laughter lighting up the room. He missed the days when that laughter was for him, when their life was uncomplicated and full of love. But those days were gone, and he had to accept that.

After dinner, as they cleared the table, Harry noticed Y/N sneaking a piece of the chocolate he'd bought. She caught his eye and smiled, a small, private moment that made his heart ache.

"Thanks again for the chocolates," she said quietly.

"Anytime," he replied, wishing he could say more, wishing he could tell her how much he still loved her.

But as the evening drew to a close, Harry knew he had to leave sooner or later. He helped tuck Rosa and Blair into bed. He read them a story, their little faces glowing with happiness. It was moments like these that made everything worth it, even if it was bittersweet. They needed stability, and he wasn't going to let his personal feelings between their mum get in the way.

When it was finally time for him to leave, he lingered at the door, hesitating. Y/N walked him out, the night air cool and crisp around them.

"Thanks for coming," she said, her voice soft.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied, looking into her eyes. "You know that."

She nodded, and for a brief moment, it felt like old times. Like they were a team again, facing the world together. But the moment passed, and reality set back in.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said, stepping back.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, turning to leave. As he walked to his car, he couldn't help but glance back one last time. She stood in the doorway, watching him, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them.

Driving away, Harry resolved to keep trying. He wasn't ready to give up on her, on their family. He'd keep coming to these dinners, keep being there for the kids, and keep loving her from afar. Because sometimes, love was about persistence, about holding on even when everything seemed lost.

***

A few weeks had passed since that family dinner, and Harry had found himself thinking about Y/N more often than usual. He was determined to win her back, no matter how long it took. The family dinners had become a regular reminder of what they once had, and each time he left her house, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was willing to fight for the woman he loved.

One evening, as he was about to head out for their weekly dinner, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N.

Y/N: Hey, can you come over a bit earlier for dinner tonight? Blair has been asking about you all day.

Harry smiled at his phone, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He quickly typed back a response.

Harry: Of course. I'll be there in an hour. Kiss the kids for me

He grabbed his keys and headed out, a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. It wasn't just about seeing the kids; it was about seeing Y/N. Every moment with her was precious, even if it was just for a short while.

When he arrived at Y/N's house, she greeted him at the door with a warm smile. "Hey, come on in. Blair is in the living room, and Rosa is finishing up her nap."

Harry stepped inside, shaking off the rain from his coat. "Thanks for inviting me early."

"Of course," she said, leading him to the living room. "Blair has been looking forward to seeing you."

As soon as Blair saw Harry, her face lit up. "Daddy!" She shouted, running into his arms.

"Hey, bee!" Harry lifted her up, spinning her around before setting her down. "How's my big girl doing?"

Blair giggled, clinging to Harry's leg. "Good! We made cookies today!"

Y/N smiled, watching them. "Yes, we did. And they're cooling in the kitchen if you want to try one."

"I'd love to," Harry said, following Y/N to the kitchen with Blair still attached to his leg.

In the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This used to be their life, their home filled with the simple joys of family. Harry remembers standing in that very kitchen, late at night, answering Y/N's pregnancy cravings so many times he's lost count. They used to joke that Blair inherited a sweet tooth because all Y/N wanted during her pregnancy were the homemade cookies Harry used to bake.

"They smell amazing," Harry said, reaching for a cookie. He took a bite and closed his eyes, savouring the taste. "These are perfect."

Y/N laughed softly. "Glad you like them."

As they stood there, enjoying the cookies and each other's company, Harry felt a sudden impulse to speak up. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, how much he wanted them to be a family again. But before he could find the words, Amelia's cries echoed from the nursery.

"I'll get her," Y/N said, giving Harry an apologetic look.

"No, let me," Harry offered, already heading towards the nursery.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay, thanks."

Harry walked into the nursery, his heart swelling at the sight of his baby girl. Rosa’s big, tear-filled eyes met his, and she instantly stopped crying, reaching out for him. He scooped her up, holding her close. "Hey there, princess. Daddy's here."

Rosa nestled into his shoulder, her tiny fingers clutching his shirt. Harry rocked her gently, humming a lullaby. Moments like these reminded him of the preciousness of family and how much he wanted to be there for every little moment.

When he returned to the living room with Rosa in his arms, he found Blair playing with a puzzle on the floor. “Where’s your mum love?” He asked, setting Rosa down onto the carpet.

“In the kitchen” Blair replied, reaching for another piece of her puzzle.

“Keep an eye on your sister, bee. I’ll be right back” Harry requested as he began making his way to the kitchen. Y/n was stood by the stove, checking on the stir fry she was making.

"Do you need any help?" he offered, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening. "Sure, you can dry the dishes. The cookies made a right mess" she chuckled softly making Harry smile as he walked over to the dishes.

They worked in companionable silence, the sizzling of the stir fry and clinking of the dishes being the only sounds filling the room. Harry stole a few glances at Y/N, her profile bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. She looked serene, but he could see the faint lines of worry etched on her face, lines he knew were partly his doing.

As he dried the last dish, Harry finally spoke. "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you."

Y/N looked up, meeting his gaze. "What is it, Harry?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I know I've made mistakes. Big ones. And I know I hurt you. But these past months, spending time with you and the kids, it's reminded me of how much I still love you."

Y/N's eyes widened, surprise and confusion flickering across her face. "Harry, I..."

"Please, just hear me out," he interrupted, his voice earnest. "I know I can't change the past, but I want to make things right. I want us to be a family again. Not just for the kids, but for us. Because I love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she listened to his words. She had built walls around her heart to protect herself from the pain, but now those walls were crumbling. She had missed him too—their shared moments, the way he made her feel safe and loved.

"I don't know, Harry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need time to think."

Harry nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait for you, Y/N. No matter how long it takes."

***

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the world, Y/N found herself standing outside Harry's house. Her heart raced as she rang the doorbell, her mind swirling with thoughts and emotions.

When Harry opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise and hope. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Harry. And I've realised something important."

Harry's expression was a mixture of hope and fear. "What is it?"

"I realised that I never stopped loving you either," she confessed, her voice shaking. "We have a lot of things to work through, and it's not going to be easy. But I want to try. I want us to be a family again."

A slow, relieved smile spread across Harry's face as he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. "You have no idea how happy that makes me, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything I can to make things right."

Tears of joy streamed down Y/N's face as she held onto him, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope for the future.

[peachhcs]

there’s another trend going around tik tok rn of girls telling their boyfriends that they’re not gonna sleepover tonight and it’s seriously sooo cute. could you do something like that for Will and samy?

WAIT YES also the tiktok ban is making me so sad omg ive been on that app since MUSICAL.LY DAYS (edit: ok tiktok is back so crazy)

i feel like will would be really confused honestly because it would be like samy’s visiting him and he’s like what do you mean?? where else are you gonna go?? 🤨🤨

au masterlist

the fans loved whenever samy posted a tiktok with will because it almost always meant she was getting him into some trouble or poking fun at him without his knowledge.

she set up her phone where will would just think she was doing something on it and not think she was recording him. he was in the kitchen making them something for dinner as samy started recording and trying to act causal so he wouldn’t catch on.

“by the way, i don’t think i’m gonna sleepover tonight. i’m not really feeling it,” samy said and angled her phone to catch her boyfriend’s reaction.

his head popped up, “what do you mean?”

“like i dunno, i don’t really wanna sleepover,” the brunette shrugged.

will stopped what he was doing to fully look at her while samy sort of avoided his gaze and tried keeping the smile from catching her lips, “are you okay? is something wrong?” the boy grew concerned and confused.

“i’m fine, just don’t wanna sleepover.”

his puzzled expression was taking everything in the soccer player not to laugh, “uh..well..okay. where are you gonna go then if not here?”

“i dunno. maybe mack’s place? or i’ll text blaire. i’m sure she’ll love to have me,” samy chuckled.

will stood there dumbfounded. he started picking his brain for anything he did wrong or something he said that was making samy not wanna spend the night with him. he was so just confused because there wasn’t really anywhere she could go but his place.

“are you sure you’re okay? did i do something?” will finally walked away from the kitchen to stand a bit closer to the girl on the couch.

samy shook her head, “no, i’m just..wanna sleep somewhere else.”

the blonde tried to not let the hurt show on his face while he felt it in the tug of his heart, “o-okay. i-i mean i can sleep on the couch? we don’t have to sleep in the same bed if that’s..if that’s the problem..”

“no, no. i just..wanna go somewhere else is all,” samy finally caught his gaze and she did see the hurt slipping through it as much as will tried hiding it.

she couldn’t take it anymore seeing her boyfriend look at her like that. she quickly jumped up to throw her arms around him and stopped recording.

“i’m just kidding, it was a prank, i promise. it was for tiktok,” the girl quickly giggled.

“seriously? i thought i did something wrong,” will rolled his eyes and playfully pushed her away.

“i’m sorry, baby. i was just kidding. i do wanna sleepover with you,” she kissed his cheek and followed him back into the kitchen.

“i was just so confused because i didn’t know where else you could go that wasn’t here. those tiktok pranks are mean,” will pouted a bit dramatically making the brunette chuckle.

“i know, i’m sorry. you did nothing wrong. i love you and you’re perfect,” samy pecked his cheek again.

“i love you too,” will mumbled.

needless to say, the fans ate the video up and mostly loved how concerned will was that he might’ve done something wrong to upset the girl.

[thisisadriana4evertugsfan]

draw burke and blair as humanoid vultures looking for carrion to eat

[httpknjoon]

the crown | jjk

plot | While staying in Blaire's beach house, your friends cannot help but notice your new tattoos. The ones you got with your secret boyfriend.

words | 2.7k+

genres | fluff, crack,  secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

note | we're back at the beach house!! things are about to get sloppy lol I love love LOVE this one so much, I had fun writing it. i hope you'll enjoy reading it too!

main masterlist  |  drabble series masterlist

Jungkook was still deep in his slumber when he sensed a rustling sound near him. At first, he didn’t mind it. Maybe you were just shifting on the bed. But then, he figured there wasn’t any movement in the foam mattress you two were sleeping on. That’s when he hears your voice.

“Oh, you’re coming? Do you want to go with me, baby?” your voice was hushed, trying not to disrupt your boyfriend’s sleep.

But with Bam jumping up and down excitedly while you walked around the room, Jungkook slowly opened his eyes. His vision was a little blurry but he could see your figure standing in front of the mirror. Rubbing his eyes, he stretched his limbs under the sheets. He sees you clearly under the dimmed light, wearing your plain black sports bra and shorts.

“Where you going?” he asked with his voice still deep and groggy.

You turned around, “Oh, you’re awake? Did I wake you?”

Still comfortable on the bed, Jungkook lazily nodded his head. You frowned before walking up to him.

“I’m sorry, babe.” you leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose. “Me and Blaire will go on an early jog. We’ll try to catch the sunrise too.”

You’re taking Bam with you?” he looked up and you smiled at his doe eyes.

“Yeah, he seems excited already.” you chuckled. “You can join us if you wanna.”

Jungkook grunted, “It’s Saturday.”

Saturdays are synonymous with rest days to him and you are very much aware of it. Jungkook already has a workout schedule and routine for six days a week. He saves up Saturday as his cheat day. He gets to do everything he wants for the whole day without any schedule. It’s a routine he picked up sometime when he got his first job. It took a whole lot of discipline for him to get used to it.

“Well, okay. It’s just me and Bam.” 

You hooked the leash to Bam’s collar. Jungkook watched you tie your hair up with the classic bun in front of the mirror, exposing one of the tattoos you got on your forearm. His lips stretched into a small smile whenever he remembered he drew that tiger lily himself. Then, he smiled even wider when he spotted the small crown inked on your left ribs, slightly covered by your top. You turned around, instantly scrunching your eyebrows in confusion why is he smiling like a fool.

“What?”

“You’re so pretty. How are you even mine, princess?” he grinned. He sat up on the bed, exposing his bare top while the sheets pooled around his hips.

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe you just tricked me into all of this,” you utter.

Leaning in once again, you aimed for his lips. One of Jungkook’s hands reached for your cheek. It began as a slow and gentle kiss. Until you had to sit down on the mattress while still kissing him. You placed a hand on his chest as the kiss deepened. Jungkook’s hands moved from your cheek down to your waist, pulling you closer to him until there was no space left. Like a rhythm, your lips move together.

“Ah,” you moaned when he bit your lower lip, making his tongue gain access easily.

Lost in what’s happening, you just cannot keep your hands to yourself. From his chest, shoulders, and arms, to his hair. Jungkook shivers at your touch. He was so ready to carry you on top of him when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away. 

“I gotta go, Blaire’s already waiting outside,” you whispered, breathlessly. 

Your chests were both heaving with your lips swollen and red from this unexpected intense session. You were about to stand up but his hold on your waist stopped you. His eyes pleaded for you to stay, but you shook your head. You laughed when he began peppering kisses on your neck, tickling you at some spot.

“Twenty minutes?” he asked, in between kisses.

“No.”

“Ten?” he continued bargaining for your time while planting his lips from the skin on your neck to your shoulder.

And when you shook your head again, he stopped and looked at you. You can feel his thumb tracing circled on the skin where you got your dainty crown tattoo.

“Five? I can be quick, princess.” He smirked.

You laughed, pushing his face away as you stood up, “I doubt that. Me and Bam are just gonna go..”

He frowned when he saw you pick up your phone and Bam’s leash. Jungkook slides down the bed again, wrapping himself with the blanket. Before you walked out the door, you turned around.

“Don’t forget to go back to your room, okay? Sleep well, babe.”

“Good morning,” Blaire nodded when she noticed you and cooed when she saw your big baby, who was also happy to see your friend.

Blaire was already waiting outside the beach house, stretching her arms, when you and Bam saw her. You looked around the beach. The crescent moon was still visible in the purplish-blue sky. The waves were calmer as they met the ends of the sand. You took in the fresh breath of air, calming you down.

“You can release Bam from this. He doesn’t really have anywhere to run to here.” Blaire suggested.

She was right. Considering that the whole area is private property, white wooden fences are placed on the spots where your dog might want to go. You agreed, unhooking the leash. Almost instantly, Bam ran near the ocean where he could watch the waves. You didn’t really worry as you can still see him from a distance. You began stretching next to Blaire.

“I was knocking on Dara’s door to ask her to join us but she wasn’t answering.” She shared.

You snickered, “We know her, she’s a deep sleeper.”

“Yeah, I wish I could sleep everywhere that great all the time.” She quipped, making you two laugh. “How about Jenny?”

“She said, she’ll try to show up. But won’t promise to. I think she had a long day yesterday in the restaurant.” You replied.

“Ah, yes. She talked about her suppliers stressing her out.” Blaire recalled. “She was ranting the whole time we were on our way here.”

As usual, everyone was in buddy-buddy mode on their way here to Blaire’s beach house last night. You, Jungkook, and Bam were all in his Jeep Wrangler. Blaire came with Jenny. While Dara picked up Wooshik at his house. now that Blaire is aware of you and Jungkook the last time you were here, she put you and your boyfriend in rooms next to each other. The house was massive, thanks to her wealthy aunt. So it would be weird to make you share a room. This time, Blaire warned you and Jungkook about doing anything everywhere if you don’t want to be caught unexpectedly, referencing that early morning she saw you all tired in the kitchen. The warning didn’t stop him from sneaking into your room at midnight.

As soon as you two began jogging beside the sea, Blaire pointed out something.

“I never noticed you had tattoos.”

“Oh, these? It’s all new. I and Kook got it last Valentine’s. He drew it himself.” You replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

As part of your Valentine's surprise for him, you two got matching tattoos of crowns, your favorite flowers, and a clock pointing to twelve o'clock. You got the crown on your left rib, near where he likes to hold you every single time, out of habit. On the other hand, he got the crown on his knuckles with his other tattoos from before. It was the same size as yours, placed in the center. He already had tiger lilies inked on his arm before while you placed your in your right forearm that is only visible when you raise your arm. The last tattoo is on your right wrist. It was all dainty and small so it can be unnoticeable at times.

“That’s cute.” She mumbled before turning her head to you. “I’m so happy for you guys. You two seemed really happy with each other.”

“I love him so much.” You giggled, feeling your blood rushing to your cheeks. It felt like you’re in elementary all over again, having a childish crush on someone.

“I just cannot understand why you kept it a secret from us.” She spoke. “And for two years? That’s fucking impressive. Hats off to you two.”

You laughed at the recognition, “Thank you. We try our best.”

You two jogged and walked and jogged again for almost thirty minutes straight, back and forth on the sand, along with Bam. The sun was already peeking in when Jenny came down with a coffee mug to see you both. She was still in her pajamas.

“I’ll prepare everyone breakfast. How do y’all like your eggs?” she asked when you passed by where she was standing.

“Scrambled!” Both you and Blaire answered in unison.

“Orange juice or coffee?” she asked once more.

“Coffee!” You two replied together again.

If it wasn’t for the random 6:30 AM alarm in his phone, Jungkook would have not woken up from his peaceful and satisfying slumber.  He would have slept until noon with how comfortable the whole room was. He groaned as he stretched his arms and legs. For a few more minutes, Jungkook buried his face on the soft pillow he was hugging. After five more minutes, he sat up on the corner of the mattress.

That’s when he realized where he was.

He’s still in your room and he promised to come back in his before everyone wakes up. But he can already hear pop music playing downstairs, indicating that someone or maybe everyone is already up. He put on his slippers, scratching his head. He makes his way to the door and as soon as he steps outside, another door on the floor opens.

“Morning, JK.” Wooshik greeted him.

“Morning.”

And it didn’t take Wooshik to notice something unusual. Jungkook watched him look at him to the door then at him again. His best friend squinted at him.

“What?”

Wooshik raised an eyebrow, “What were you doing in YN’s room?”

Jungkook’s heart stopped for a second. His hold on your door knob tightened as the gear in his brain works quicker than it usually does in the morning. Once he thought of something, he pushed it close.

“I was… looking for Bam. I thought I could take him with me outside.” He reasoned out, that even he is not buying it totally.

“But you look like you just woke up.” Wooshik’s tone is too curious like that Sheldon kid from that show.

“Yeah, I went as soon as I woke up.” Jungkook crossed his arm over his chest. He looked directly at his best friend. That is when he noticed something too. “And what were you doing in Dara’s room?”

They exchanged glares from one another. Jungkook nods his chin in a sassy way while Wooshik squinted his eyes to him. It’s a way to say something like I know that you did something I just cannot prove it.

“I borrowed her charger. I left mine at home.” Wooshik showed the charger he was holding. “Everyone is already downstairs. Dara’s helping Jenny with breakfast.”

He didn’t wait for Jungkook to answer and strolled down the stairs. Jungkook didn’t say anything and followed. The appetizing smell of bacon immediately enters his nostrils as he makes his way to the dining area. That’s when he sees Dara carefully pouring coffee on every empty mug on the table while Jenny fries some bacon. There’s already toast and eggs on the table so Jungkook reached for a slice. Wooshik, who plugged his phone into the living room, entered and sat on the chair opposite his.

“Bam’s already outside, by the way.” He told him.

“Is he?” Jungkook asked, acting naïve.

“Yeah, Blaire and YN are jogging outside.”

“Oh, they are?” Jungkook asked again.

It’s obvious Wooshik is suspicious and teasing him so he teases him back. His best friend glared at him, Jungkook scrunched his nose, taking a bite from his toast. The tension was only broken when Dara asked Wooshik,

“Milk? Sugar?”

“Sugar, please.” He replied, smiling at her. Then, frowning back to Jungkook.

Jungkook mocked, “Shugar, pleash.”

The backdoor to the beach opens, letting the sunshine enter. Bam was the first to come in, wagging his tail as he made his way to Jungkook. Blaire enters, greeting everyone. You followed behind like a ray of sunshine in your boyfriend’s eyes. Your hair bun is now a little loose while your skin glistens through your sweat.

“Now, everyone here. Let’s all have our breakfast.” Dara said, sitting next to Blaire and Wooshik.

You sat next to Jungkook, while on your other side was Blaire. He handed you the plate of scrambled eggs. He also placed two slices of toast on your plate, one with spread butter on top. Everyone began talking about what do they wanted to the whole weekend since you all our staying in the beach house the entire time.

“Can we do bonfire later?”  Dara suggested.

Blaire nods, “Yeah! We can barbecue too and those marshmallows stuff.”

“Then, we should go out later to buy groceries,” Jenny said.

You just listened, enjoying your food and coffee. Many other suggestions were made since everyone is taking their rest days before returning to their lives next week.

“YN, can you pass me the bacon?” Blaire asked.

You did, unaware that your top slightly raised when you moved.

“Is that a tattoo?!” Dara pointed out to the crown on your skin. 

Then, Jenny saw the other one, “Wait, you have two?”

“Three actually.” you smiled, showing off the clock on your wrist.

You seemed proud as they complimented the color of the lilies or the design of the clock. Jungkook hides the growing smile on his lips while sipping in his mug. Also, on the other side of the table, Wooshik was the first one to ask.

“Are there meanings behind them?”

You nodded, “Yes, of course.”

“Well, the tiger lily here represents confidence and good fortune. I like that,” you explained.

“Wait. Jungkook, you have those too right?” Dara asked him.

Jungkook nods and shows off his forearm. “Yeah, right here. YN is just a copycat.”

You rolled your eyes, “For the record, I am not. Someone suggested it to me.”

“Who?” they asked collectively, including Blaire as if she was unaware of who.

Instead of answering the question, you just smiled eating your toast. They groaned. During your Galentines with the girls, you already told them about meeting someone special. And you assume that the news already reached Wooshik.

“It’s her secret boyfriend!” Wooshik exclaimed like he solved a murder mystery.

Again, you didn’t say anything. But your ex[ression is enough to show that you and your love life are currently in a happy state.

“Seriously, when are we gonna meet this guy? You seemed like floating on cloud 9 just thinking of him right now.” Jenny said.

You heard Jungkook chuckle beside you. You secretly pat his lap under the table, stopping him from getting too prideful from what he’s hearing.

“Soon. We’re already talking about planning something so you guys can meet him,” you told them. “Anyway, moving on…”

With you talking about your secret boyfriend, one person at the table cannot help but recall the same statement he heard from Jungkook when he found out about Princess. Wooshik eyes you while pointing to the tattoo on your wrist and Jungkook, who’s just watching everything, specifically you. For the first time, Wooshik noticed how different his best friend looked at you. Jungkook has his head resting on his hand, looking at you like you are the most precious gem in the world. There was this adoration and fondness in his best friend’s eyes as he looked at you. Jungkook’s quiet glance at you speaks so loud that Wooshik feels so dumb that this is the first time he has seen this.

“And what about the crown?” Jenny asked.

You showed off the said tattoo, “Oh, I’ve been feeling lucky and loved lately. You know, like a princess.”

Like a princess.

And that was the confirmation Wooshik got.

TAGLIST (closed)

@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy1985 @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592

[fear-is-truth]

What do you think would happen during a movie night with the Evans? I mean in a "what would you watch?" and "what would be the general reactions to the movie?" way, not a "would you fuck on the couch?" kind of way.

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans x movie date .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ james march ‧ kai anderson ‧ austin sommers ‧ luke cooper

a/n: thank you for the req !! i love movies (ty for clarifying too lol) warnings — murder mention

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate would definitely pick something horror-centric, like the blair witch project, pet sematary, night of the living dead, or the exorcist.

as the movie progresses, he’d be pretty quiet, watching you more than the screen.

won’t forget to drop morbid little comments that makes him sound like a complete sociopath.

the second you show the slightest sign of fear, tate is on full alert. it’s like a switch flips. he might still tease you a little, like “don’t tell me you’re scared of that,”

if you flinch or jump, it’s his cue to wrap you up in his arms, assuring you the scary stuff isn’t real. in some kind of fucked-up way, it’s almost like he enjoys seeing you vulnerable, but only bc he wants to protect you from the scary stuff.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit would definitely lean toward the hopeful, heartwarming side of things. think shawshank redemption or green book that’s got that feel-good vibe, something that makes you believe in the good of people. he’d also want to watch something uplifting, like the pursuit of happiness or forrest gump—movies where the character fights through adversity and comes out on top.

you’d have a big bowl of popcorn to go with the movie. and a few blankets.

he would be super involved. probably a little emotional, especially with movies that tug at his heartstrings. “this part always gets me,” he’d admit, wiping his eyes discreetly if he got too caught up in the feels.

post-movie, he’d want to discuss the themes and characters. “you see how they never gave up hope? that’s the kind of message we all need.”

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

frat!kyle’s movie taste would likely be a mix of blockbuster sci-fi and superhero films. he likes action, adventure, the sort of movies you can quote with your friends or wear merch to.

i think he’d like franchises like star wars, indiana jones, jurassic park, the avengers, men in black etc.

lots of cuddling.

⟢ franken .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

something light and nostalgic like a studio ghibli movie. like ponyo or my neighbor totoro.

(because im the writer and i said so. )

he’d make it cozy with lots of blankets and snacks. the whole vibe would be super comfy. kyle would be super focused the movie, glancing over at you every now and then to make sure you’re having a good time as well.

when something cute or magical happens in the film, you’d hear his soft “aww” or “look at that,” because he gets genuinely excited.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

james wouldn’t actively seek out movies, sneering about how they lack the depth and refinement of true art forms like poetry or opera.

he’d explicitly detest hollywood, finding it gaudy and tasteless, particularly because of his ex-wife elizabeth’s infatuation with rudolph valentino.

however, if you wanted to watch something, he’d grudgingly agree, more for your sake than his own. his curiosity would be piqued by gory horror films—saw, hostel, or the texas chainsaw massacre.

as the movie progressed and the gore got more creative, his interest would visibly pique. he’d lean forward, eyes narrowing, as if studying the screen like a scholar. might even occasionally pause the movie to dissect a particularly inventive murder, speculating about the tools used or admiring the “execution” (pun intended)

the intricate methods of destruction would catch his interest. he’d remark about the “artistry” of a scene involving a particularly gruesome demise and might even murmur under his breath about how the filmmakers had some semblance of vision after all.

“ah, see how the arterial spray creates that beautiful arc on the wall?” or “the creativity in dismemberment is… admirable,”

he’d almost certainly take mental notes, planning to incorporate some of these techniques into his own macabre masterpieces.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would pick something like the social network, the matrix, fight club, or american psycho. we’re talking straight-up incel film bro material.

kai wouldn’t just watch the movie—he’d analyse the hell out of it. he’s the guy who makes watching movies an intellectual exercise but secretly just wants you to agree with him.

would definitely test you during the film, asking, “do you get it?” or “what would you do in this situation?”

the matrix? he’s mansplaining about the red pill and how people are blind sheep in the “system.” the social network? he’s cackling when eduardo gets screwed over by zuckerberg, saying, “he deserved it for being soft.” american psycho? he’d call it a critique of society.

he’d be so obnoxious during fight club, quoting lines like, “the things you own, own you,” and trying to explain to you how it applies to your life.

he’d fw tyler durden HEAVY. unironically.

⟢ 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.

the three-time tony award winner would gravitate toward films that scream high art—think something like the seventh seal by ingmar bergman or 8½ by fellini—stuff that almost feel like a performance or a commentary on cinema itself.

old-school classics, like citizen kane or the godfather—the ones that’ve stood the test of time. they’ve got that “cinematic art” thing that makes him feel like he’s part of some exclusive club.

if it’s a more recent flick, though, it’s gotta have substance. i think he’d enjoy black swan because it’s dark, intense, and shows true artistic struggle.

he’d admire the actors, the cinematography, whatever gives off that “artsy” vibe. if it’s too mainstream or shallow, though, forget about it. he’s not wasting his time on that.

even during the movie, he’d find ways to bring up the “black pill”. “this is why creative people—real artists—need something more than just hard work. black pill, that’s the real key to unlocking that next level of creativity.”

⟢ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑.

luke would still call citizen kane his favourite movie, but not in a pretentious film snob way—he’s genuinely proud of himself for loving a “classic.” he’d talk about how his grandpa introduced it to him as a kid, and how it gave him the revelation that movies could be more than just entertainment.

his other favourite is the boondock saints, which he doesn’t try to justify with highbrow reasoning.

during movie nights, luke would occasionally point out a few obscure behind-the-scenes facts only because he couldn’t help himself, but otherwise let you watch in peace.

would 100% use the “resting his arm and casually drapes around your shoulder” tactic.

[tavolgisvist]

The Lovers That Never Were

(for @i-am-the-oyster because)

As for you, you sit there playing this game You keep me waiting

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

Don't keep me waiting here Lead me to your door

(The Long and Winding Road, 1969)

Linda: The sad thing is that John and Paul both had problems and they loved each other and, boy, could they have helped each other! If they had only communicated! It frustrates me no end, because I was just some chick from New York when I walked into all of that. God, if I’d known what I know now… All I could do was sit there watching them play these games…

(Paul and Linda McCartney, Dec.1984, interview with Joan Goodman for Playboy, 1984)

All of the clocks have run down Time's at an end

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

But in a final tender moment, the Observer said, Lennon wrote under a photo of himself with McCartney: “The minutes are crumbling away.”

(Associated Press: Lennon’s resentment of McCartney reflected in book notes, July 20th, 1986)

So you, you must tell me something,…I love you, Say goodbye or anything

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

And I won't go away until you tell me so No, I'll never go away Yes, I know what I feel to be right

(No More Lonely Nights, 1984)

When all of the clocks have run down All over the world We'll be the lovers that never were

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

In another world we could Stand on top of the mountain With our flag unfurled In time to come In time to come we will be Dancing to the beat played On a different drum

(Tug of War, 1980/82)

We had the whole musical universe to choose from – a rock and roll song, a love song, what would it be? – so I said, “Well, let’s start with Smokey Robinson and the Miracles. Let’s think of them”, so we started off and ‘The Lovers That Never Were’ came out. It was our first song together.

We did a nice but very, very rough demo of it, just Elvis and me, but when we tried to record it properly it didn’t really work out. So I ignored it for Flowers In The Dirt and decided to try it again for this album. And we thought of bringing in a 4/4 bass drum over a 3/4 song ~ this is for the musicians among you – which just makes it swing. It’s an old rhythm trick but it made it come alive, and we then had a version that we liked.

(Paul McCartney, 1993, Club Sandwich)

It was a waltz and not working, until Paul said, How about putting a 4/4 on top of this thing. And that was so complicated, waltz and 4/4 at the same time, but I tried and Paul’s looking at me saying, You all right? I’m struggling (claps in fours, stamps in threes), but I say, Just give me five minutes. A real head twister, but it was such a groove. Made the song happen.

(Blair Cunningham, from the “New World Tour”)

Baby’s In Black we did because we like waltz time – we used to do If You Gotta Make A Fool Of Somebody, a cool 3/4 blues thing. And other bands would notice that and say, ‘Shit man, you’re doing something in 3/4.’ So we’d got known for that. And I think also John and I wanted to do something bluesy, a bit darker, more grown-up, rather than just straight pop. It was more ‘baby’s in black’ as in mourning. Our favourite colour was black, as well

(Paul McCartney, Anthology)

“Baby’s in Black” was recorded by the Beatles on 11 August 1964, and was the first song recorded for Beatles for Sale. Lennon and McCartney sang their vocal parts simultaneously through the same microphone. This was done at their own insistence in order to achieve a closer feel to the performance. (x)

It was very much co-written and we both sang it. Sometimes the harmony that I was writing in sympathy to John’s melody would take over and become a stronger melody. Suddenly a piebald rabbit came out of the hat! When people wrote out the music score they would ask, ‘Which one is the melody?’ because it was so co-written that you could actually take either. We rather liked this one. It was not so much a work job, there was a bit more cred about this one. It’s got a good middle.

(Paul McCartney in Many Years From Now by Barry Miles, 1997)

They performed Baby’s in Black live during their appearances from late 1964 until their last tour in 1966. In 1996, a live version of Baby’s in Black was released as a B-side to Real Love, the second single from their Anthology project.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Can you write “which one of you idiots is warming their icy little feet on me?! you need to get that checked!” for poly Non-Judging Breakfast Club with gn reader? And for the dynamics, would be adorable if the reader is an absolute gentleman/gentlewoman with the girls and a lovely pain in the ass with the guys.

Cuddling Chaos || poly! Non-Judging Breakfast Club x gn! reader

Summary: your mornings are never exactly quiet given who your partners are

Warnings/contains: domestic fluff, mild swearing, mentions of eating/food in terms of breakfast and such, playful banter

Prompt list used can be found here

Beginning notes: I certainly can!! thanks so much for the poly njbc ask btw, they're some of my favorite to write for 🥺💞 (also for those who were wondering it was still colder when this ask was initially sent in so that's why this is set somewhere around that time. sorry anon for making you wait so long for this, I hope you enjoy it regardless <3)

Winter (and even early spring) was always bound to be cold in New York, especially in the early mornings, which is why you were so thankful you had four other people to share a bed with in order to keep you warm. There were, however, a few setbacks.

"Alright, which one of you idiots is warming your icy little feet on me?" You questioned while wiggling around in the spot you'd taken the night before, laying curled up somewhere in the center of the bed. "Seriously, you need to get that checked."

You could hear someone- probably Chuck, knowing him -let out a snort of laughter at your words from nearby, followed by the rustling of sheets as someone moved on the other side of you.

"Ah, that'd be me. Sorry," came Nate's apologetic response as he pulled his feet away from you and moved them back over to his side of the bed. "I thought you were Serena. Usually she doesn't mind if I warm my feet on her, which is why they were there in the first place."

"Well, you should check who you're warming yourself on next time," you grumbled lightly in response, giving his side of the blanket a firm tug to emphasize your point.

"Hey!" He lightly exclaimed while immediately tugging it back over him in hopes of blocking out any more of the cold air from hitting his body. A soft giggle came from a lump under the blankets somewhere between you and him, the golden head of hair sticking out near the pillow indicating it was Serena.

"Can you two shut up? Some of us are trying to get some beauty sleep," the frustrated voice of Blair spoke on your other side. Clearly she'd woken up at some point during the ruckus you were causing, something you hadn't yet realized due to the sleep mask still covering her eyes.

"Sorry, B. We'll try to keep it down," you gently murmured while reaching your hand over to affectionately run your fingers through her hair, something she responded to by letting out a sigh of content as she rolled over to cuddle up closer to you.

"What about me? Don't I get pat on the head or two?" Chuck asked in a deceivingly innocent voice, to which you simply reached over and gave the side of his head a playful shove.

"No, you don't, because you're a nuisance. Now shut up, B's trying to get some sleep."

He let out a grunt of displeasure at the action but shut his mouth regardless, the room falling silent. Until-

"Who the hell is using my legs as a natural heat source again?" You demanded while wiggling around under the covers in an attempt to get away from the unidentified pair of feet, adding in a warning tone, "I swear to God I'm going to push whoever it is out of the bed."

That's when Serena's face suddenly popped out from underneath the covers. "I think it was me," she said while quickly retracting her feet and moving to lay with her head on your shoulder so she could stare up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I thought you might've been B." The brunette in question let out an indignant huff at that but remained quiet otherwise. "Please don't push me out of the bed."

"Aw, sweetheart, of course not," you cooed sweetly as your fingers began to gently comb through her hair, slowly beginning to untangle the knots she had. "I only said that because I thought it was Chuck who was doing it."

You heard an indignant scoff from the other side of Blair that would have no doubt led to a slew of protests had it not been followed by a soft grunt of pain. You were pretty sure that signified she hit him on the abdomen in order to get him to be quiet so she could try to go back to sleep.

"I'm glad you're not kicking me out of the bed, otherwise I'd have to use my powers of persuasion to convince you otherwise," Serena continued in a suggestive purr before flopping on top of you and peppering your face with sleepy kisses. This created a chain reaction that resulting in Nate sighing in resignation as the blanket was yanked from off him yet again, Blair shrieking when Serena landed so that she was laying halfway on top of her, and Chuck snickering at the chaos everyone erupted into.

"Serena, get off!-"

"Please don't kick me off the bed, I'll be so good, I swear by it-"

"Seriously? My blanket, again?-"

"God, I wish I had a camera-"

"Okay, okay, enough," you stated firmly while wriggling out from underneath the blanket-and-person cocoon you were trapped in, popping out successfully at the end of the bed on the other side. "Since we're all officially up now, I'm going downstairs to ask if Dorota will make us some breakfast."

Serena sat up instantly at the mention of food, her hair a visible mess from the way she slept on it. "Ooh, will you bring me back a bowl of raspberries?"

"I'll take some nonfat yogurt," Blair piped up from where she was still curled up under the covers, her sleepmask remaining planted firmly on her face.

"Aw, anything for my gorgeous Sleeping Beauties," you replied warmly before turning to leave. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Hey, what about us?" Nate asked while sitting up some himself, seeming both slightly inconvienced and mildly amused at once.

"You can either wait until Dorota's done, or you can head downstairs yourselves to grab something small until then. The 'Prince Charmings' are perfectly capable of doing things for themselves," you called back over your shoulder.

The noise of light squabbling could be heard even as you made your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs, Chuck remarking that Serena's hair looked like a disheveled bird's nest and her retaliating by throwing a pillow at his face. Things were certainly never dull around them, that was certain.

You returned to the bedroom a few minutes later after grabbing a pre-breakfast snack for the girls to find Blair still trying to get a couple extra minutes of sleep, except now she was on the other side of Nate and laying pressed against him, almost as though she was using him as a makeshift wall between her and your other two partners. The Golden Boy himself was merely observing as Serena and Chuck play fought by lightly smacking each other with the throw pillows, the two tittering with laughter as they did so.

"Will you two idiots cut it out?" Blair suddenly snapped as she ripped the sleepmask off her face and scowled at the disturbance, though her gaze instantly softened the moment she saw the cup of yogurt in your hands. "Thank you," she grumbled appreciatively, not forgetting her manners despite the grumpiness she felt over getting woken up early.

"Nonfat Greek yogurt for Queen B," you declared while handing her the cup before turning and doing the same with Serena. "And a bowl of raspberries for the resident It Girl of Manhattan."

She let out an excited shriek before tossing the pillow in her hands behind her without a care (it hit Nate in the chest as a result, causing him to let out a quiet "oof" while Chuck guffawed with vibrant glee).

"How come those two get snacks brought to them and we have to get up ourselves?" Nate repeated the same question that he had earlier as you moved to sit on the edge of the bed by where Blair was, Serena laying back to rest her head in your lap as she began to happily munch on the raspberries.

Chuck beat you to answering. "Probably something to do with how chivalry isn't truly dead. Or maybe we just aren't the favorites," he lazily drawled while laying back to rest his head on the other boy's shoulder, seeming unfazed by your refusal to bring them anything back from the kitchen.

"That's not true. I don't play favorites," you insisted even as you began to hand feed Serena the fruit rather than having her do it herself. Blair remained quiet for once, fully invested on eating her yogurt as she began to wake up more fully.

"Oh, yeah? Let me have a raspberry then," Nate playfully demanded while holding his hand out expectantly, something that made Chuck laugh.

Shrugging, you replied with, "Don't ask me, ask her," while pointing to Serena, who was already beginning to sit up and move over towards him.

"If you want it, you'll have to take it from me," she stated with a coy smile as she placed a raspberry between her lips, causing Nate to have to lean forward and place his mouth on hers in order to take it. Chuck let out a low whistle while Blair rolled her eyes endearingly at her partners.

"You're all ridiculous," she muttered while continuing to eat her yogurt, unable to fully hide the fond gaze in her eyes while she spoke.

"Yeah, but you love us anyway," you affectionately teased while reaching over to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the action causing her cheeks to heat up in a barely perceptible blush.

"B, you should share some of your yogurt with us," Serena suddenly stated with a mischievous glint in her eyes, already beginning to crawl over to the other girl's side of the bed.

"Absolutely not. I refuse to partake in whatever kind of foolishness that's being participated in here," Blair replied matter-of-factly, letting out a shriek of surprise when the blonde blindsided her with a kiss before snatching the yogurt from her hands, grinning as she used the spoon to get a scoopful before bringing it up to her mouth.

If Serena was the cat that ate the canary, then Blair was an ornery lapdog that had just gotten its snack taken away. "Serena, give it back-" the brunette demanded while lunging over to her so she could grab the yogurt cup back out of her hands.

Serena screeched in delight as she moved to hide behind Nate (who pulled her closer on instinct), your arms instantly reaching out to catch Blair around the waist before she could tackle the other girl down onto the bed. "Alright, let's not get into a fight so early in the morning."

"Aw, no fair. Catfights are the best," Chuck commented with a sly grin as he lounged back against the pillows next to Serena, his words causing Blair to gag ever so slightly.

"You are seriously disgusting, did you know that?"

Before he could begin to protest, the door opened to reveal Dorota entering while carrying a massive tray full of food. "Breakfast," she cheerfully declared in that thick accent of hers, not doing so much as batting an eye at the obvious mayhem she'd just walked into as she was well used to it by now.

Things seemed to settle down a bit more after that as the five of you began to tuck in to the food that had been brought, Dorota exiting and returning a few moments later with yet another tray covered in extra food and beverages that she set down on the trunk at the foot of the bed.

"Thank you, Dorota," Blair politely acknowledged the housekeeper's actions, followed by a chorus of murmured agreements from the rest of you.

As your partners began to casually chat about their shared plans for the day, all you could think about was just how grateful you were to have the four of them in your life. Even if it was a bit difficult having to share a bed with them at times.

End notes: honestly writing the dynamics was my favorite part of this, if you ever come up with any more ideas for me anon then please don't hesitate to let me know 🫶

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[priyajoyy]

Charity

Blair Waldorf x reader

Blairs little charity case proving her worth before one of her mums parties.

Warnings:

Dubcon if you squint, smut with a little plot, classism, not much else

You were her pretty little pet.

A little charity case for her to pour all her time into. Regardless of your families’ healthy financial circumstances (she would never stoop so low as to spend this much time with some sort of commoner).

No, you were more like a social charity case.

Lonely little new girl, flown over from England with your parents and their old money. 

Sent into Constance with your neat uniform, not a hair out of place. Completely out of your depth.

God you could be so so powerful and you didn’t even know it.

A shy little thing that stuck to yourself and spent more time reading than daring to have social interactions with your new classmates.

Well until Blair that is.

As soon as she set her pretty brown eyes on you, she knew what you could be.

The kind of perfect socialite she could mould you into. Her pretty little prize.

Her little minions hated you.

God, they despised you.

How couldn’t they.

They’d spent years following after Blair. Attending to her every whim. 

And in you come, ditzy little Brit, not a care in the world, and you and Blair’s undivided attention.

They didn’t know what she saw in you. Even Blair wasn’t completely sure.

Maybe it was your pretty smile. The way your lips turned up every time she looked at you like a puppy.

But then again, maybe it's your hair. God knows it's so soft beneath Blair's fingers.

The way she plays with it between her fingers every day, sat at the steps of the met for lunch, with you between her legs below her, where you belong. 

The way she was playing with it now, her eyes locked on the pages of whatever designer label novel she's currently pretending to read, her fingers, tugging and twisting and yanking at your hair. 

A particularly rough yank has you wincing, and her gaze slides to you around her book. Pretending she wasn’t watching you. Watching your expression.

The hand is rougher now, pulling your head back so that she can look at you as she coos, "Are you paying attention, pet?"

god you look so pretty beneath her.

She doesn’t expect an answer really, you know she likes you quiet. Your pretty mouth shut unless she needs it for some other reason.

But you nod along silently anyway, eager to please.

She releases your chin, satisfied, and the hand that was toying with your hair reaches up to pat your head as her eyes drift back down to her book. 

Her free hand pats her lap once, a gesture you know well, she demands your attendance, and who are you to deny her wishes?

You immediately comply, crawling forward to rest between her slender legs.

You're so well behaved.

She takes to running her fingers through your hair again, massaging your neck and scalp as you bury your face in her thighs.

 A pleased sigh escapes her lips, and you know, just know, that she's smirking in that condescending manner that always leaves your cheeks warm.

Blair closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cheek against her skin, soft and smooth. 

Her fingers still play idly in your hair, tugging and twisting and smoothing the locks with each movement. 

She loves how easily you submit to her, how you melt in her hands like a doll for her to play with. "Good girl." She murmurs, her voice a low purr.

“Go on” she commands simply, pushing your head down towards her crotch when she gets too impatient. It’s clear what she wants from you.

She chuckles darkly when you respond to her command with immediate obedience, your face buried into her lap. Her hand is still tangled in your hair, guiding you exactly where she wants you.

She shifts in her seat, her legs falling open to permit you better access. "Such a good girl," she murmurs, her grip on your hair tightening. "Now, be a darling and be useful”

She’s not asking.

And you’re quick to succumb to her commands.

You press your nose into the tender flesh of her inner thigh and try to swallow down your nervous anticipation. 

She's clearly in a good mood today, her praise only enhancing the warmth in the pit of your stomach. You know what she's expecting of you, and you know that you're more than willing to give it to her.

Her hand in your hair holds you in place, not that you'd move away anyway.

Blair looks down at you, chin resting in her palm, and arches her brow in anticipation. She's curious to see how you'll respond to her command, her grip in your hair a steady reminder of who's in control. "Well?" She prompts, her voice low and commanding. "Go on, darling. Amuse me."

You hesitate for only a moment before obeying, pressing a soft kiss against her thigh. You hear her breath hitch when your lips make contact with her skin, though her hand in your hair never relents its firm hold. 

Spurred on by the small hitch, you continue to kiss along her inner thigh, slowly moving upward towards the edge of her skirt. To her lace underwear.

Blair watches your every move with a sharp gaze, her lips curling into a small smirk. She adjusts herself in her seat, spreading her legs a little wider as she does so. 

She loves watching you, loves seeing how obedient you are beneath her. Every soft kiss against her thigh sends a jolt of pleasure through her, and when your lips reach the hem of her underwear, she lets out a soft hum of approval.

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers twisting in your hair. "Keep going."

Her voice is a little breathy now, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine. 

You continue to kiss along her underwear, not yet lifting it, growing ever closer to the apex, but her grip in your hair prevents you from going any further.

Blair is losing her composure now, her breathing becoming ragged as your lips move closer and closer to the place she wants you most.

 She can't help but wonder how far she can push you, how long you'll let her dictate this little encounter. Her grip in your hair tightens again, and she uses it to tilt your chin up to look at her.

"Look at me," she commands softly, her eyes locking onto yours. You can see the desire and the hunger burning within them, and it makes your heart race faster in your chest. 

She's enjoying this, enjoying how pliant you are beneath her. She runs her thumb over your bottom lip, smearing away the last of your lipstick.

"You're so beautiful like this," she whispers, her gaze roaming over your face. 

Her free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the cold press of her rings sending a shiver through you. 

She pushes a finger into your mouth, smirking at how you immediately close your lips around it, sucking gently.

“You’re going to have to fix your makeup” she tuts at you, smearing the lipstick across your face even more, “can’t have you looking like this for my mother’s party, can we?”

She keeps her smirk as she rubs her thumb over your mouth, spreading the evidence of your encounter across your face in bold streaks. 

You can see the mischief in her eyes, the way she's enjoying herself immensely. her tone casual. "I'd hate for you to embarrass me in front of the company. We can't have that now, can we, pet?"

She stares down at you for a moment, holding onto your hair tightly before pushing your head back down again, “get to it”

You don't hesitate, immediately obeying her directive as her hand guides you back down to where she wants you. Her touch is firm and ungentle, but you don't falter, you know exactly what she wants, and you're only too willing to give it to her.

“Gonna show everyone what a good charity case you are tonight” she muses, pushing your head against her core harshly, not a bother for your comfort.

You work your way to her quickly, eager to please her (and perhaps make her loosen her harsh grip on your hair and head). Pushing her delicate underwear aside, licking and kissing up her.

After a minute, you go to pull away, only for a second, to catch your breath from the way she unrelentingly pushed your face into her body, keeping you close in-between the squeeze of her thighs.

But she doesn't allow it, her grip unyielding as she holds you there, pressed against her flesh. Her breathing is ragged now, her chest heaving with each inhale. Her eyes are dark and dilated, watching you with a mixture of desire and satisfaction.

Her thighs close around your head quickly as you try to pull back, only making you try and pull even more, slightly panicked.

She slaps your cheek quickly.

Her hand snaps against your cheek, the sharp smack of it filling the air. The pain is sharp, stinging your skin, but there's no apology in her gaze, only an expression of twisted satisfaction. It makes the heat deep in your gut burn even hotter.

"No breathing breaks," she coos in a mocking tone, tilting your chin up to look at her. "We're just getting started. Now, be a dear and pay attention to what you're doing." She pushes your head back down, forcing your face against her thigh once more.

You nod quickly, getting a second before rushing back to complete your job.

You know she wouldn’t accept anything else.

Her grip tightens in your hair as you redouble your efforts, each desperate attempt drawing a pleased hum from her. She's relishing in your submission; in the power she holds over you. The pain is just an added thrill, another layer to her pleasure.

"That's it, darling," she praises, her voice soft and cold. "Don't you look so pretty down there on your knees for me."

You can tell she's fully enjoying this, loving every moment of having you at her mercy. She's pushing you now, guiding your mouth and your tongue exactly where she wants. She's in total control, and she knows it.

The hand that's tangled in your hair is pulling now, pushing and tugging you closer against her. She's getting impatient, wanting more, wanting you to give her everything. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the air, mixing with the soft hums and moans that escape her lips.

“Faster," she commands through gritted teeth, and you eagerly comply, picking up the pace. Her grip is tight in your hair, keeping you in place as she continues to guide your movements.

You can tell she's close now; you can see the subtle shift in her expression, the way her chest rises and falls a little faster, the way her thighs tense with anticipation.

"That's it, darling," she coos, her voice dropping to a low, mocking tone. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? On your knees, doing as you're told. Just obeying every command like the little pet, you are."

Her words send another thrill of heat through you, adding fuel to the already burning fire in the pit of your stomach. You can feel her thighs trembling against your face, knowing that she's close.

"Don't you stop," she hisses, her hand in your hair pulling you even closer. "Don't you dare stop." She's close now, you can tell, her grip on you growing even tighter.

"You better please me," she adds, her voice cold and harsh. "Or I'll make sure you regret it." There's no kindness in her threat, but the thought of her disappointment only drives you wilder.

She's reaching her peak now, her breath coming in ragged gasps as your lips and tongue continue their work. Her grip on your hair tightens almost painfully, but you don't falter, not with her so close.

"There you go," she purrs, the first real hint of satisfaction entering her voice. "Just like that, just—" But her words are cut off as the wave of pleasure washes over her, her body arching off the seat and her head lolling back.

Her grip in your hair loosens, and you're able to pull away, finally taking a much-needed lungful of breath. Your face is flushed and wet, and you know you look every bit as wrecked as you feel.

She's watching you with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with your efforts. She takes a moment to admire her handiwork, taking in your disarrayed appearance. "You look a mess." She muses, her tone lacking any hint of sympathy. "But then, you're always prettiest like this.

She releases her grip on your hair, running her fingers through the dishevelled mess almost affectionately. "Clean yourself up," she says in a condescending tone. "Can't have you looking like you just came up for air, darling. Someone might get the wrong idea.”

You nod quickly, the back of your hand wiping against your mouth as you gathered yourself, still sat on your knees in front of her.

She chuckles softly, clearly amused by how obedient you are to her commands. "Hurry now," she adds, the condescension back in her voice. "Can't have you keep the guests waiting. You'd ruin my fun."

You can only nod again, rushing off to the bathroom to clean yourself up like she commanded.