#while also helping to soften their abrasive edges

[nsdetailandwrap]

The Importance of Detail and Wrap Service

A car wrap is a great way to personalize your vehicle and protect it from damage. Standout wraps are made from a durable material and can endure the elements.

Wraps can be applied in a variety of styles and colors, including chrome, metallic, matte, camouflage, or even brushed metal. They can also be shaped to highlight different features of your vehicle.

Preparation

As vinyl wraps are essentially large-scale stickers, they need an ideal surface to adhere to. A thorough inspection and cleaning will help ensure a smooth finish that lasts for years to come.

Use a soft wash mitt and microfiber towels to avoid scratching the vehicle’s wrap. A pH neutral soap is also recommended to prevent damaging the wrap’s gloss or stripping any existing wax.

Blot, rather than rub, to prevent friction that may damage the wrap. Then, dry the vehicle thoroughly in a shaded area to prevent water spots and potential heat damage.

Be sure to remove any existing dents, rust, or scratches from the panels as these will not be covered by the wraps. This is important as any remaining imperfections will be visible beneath the wrap, detracting from your car’s overall appearance. Using isopropyl alcohol or a clay bar treatment can be helpful for removing embedded contaminants. It is best to complete this process the day before the wrap installation.

Cleaning

The key to ensuring the longevity and beauty of your vehicle wrap is regular, careful cleaning. A detail and wrap service inspection and the proper tools and materials are key to a wash process that cleans thoroughly and effectively while safeguarding the integrity of your wrap.

Rinse and Clean: Start with a gentle rinse using a low-pressure hose to remove loose dirt and contaminants. Avoid high-pressure washing, as it could lift edges and damage the wrap. Use a soft wash mitt and microfiber towels that are gentle on the wrap to prevent scratches.

Deal With Stains Promptly: Difficult stains like bird droppings, flattened insects and tree sap should be cleaned immediately to avoid permanent blemishes. Soak these stains in warm, soapy water or apply an alcohol solution (two parts isopropyl to one part water) to dissolve the substance and then gently wipe it away with a soft cloth.

Rinse and Dry: When washing your car wrap, always blot the surface rather than rubbing, as rubbing can cause friction that could damage the vinyl. Afterwards, dry the vehicle with microfiber towels in a shaded area to reduce water spots and avoid heat damage.

Removal

During the wrap removal process, it’s important to work slowly and with care. A little patience can go a long way to avoiding unsightly tears, stretch marks, and other damage to your vehicle’s paint.

Start by heating a small section of the vinyl with your heat gun and moving it back and forth to evenly distribute the heat. This will help soften the adhesive underneath so it’s easier to peel away. Use a plastic scraper to help lift stubborn spots of glue if needed.

Once you’ve removed the vinyl, it’s important to wash your car and treat any areas with residue with a mild cleaner to avoid damaging the paint surface. Also, try to steer clear of high-pressure washes and abrasive cleaning tools that could scratch the new finish. Instead, opt for gentle hand washing using pH-neutral soaps. If necessary, you can also clean the area with a degreaser like isopropyl alcohol. This will keep the paint protected, especially if you’re planning to wrap or apply PPF again in the future.

Installation

A professional wrap requires patience, experience, and the correct equipment to avoid blemishes and errors. Mistakes like tearing, overstretching, or bubbling can ruin the look and longevity of your wrap.

Dents, rust, and a poor paint job cannot be covered with vinyl decals, so they must be repaired before you get your vehicle wrapped. Your vehicle must also be clean and free of contaminants before wrapping. Gentle cleaning, hand washing, and avoiding high-pressure or automatic car washes can protect your wrap from damage.

Regular inspections of your car wrap can spot issues quickly. Regular maintenance like gentle blotting rather than rubbing and a mild, wrap-safe cleaner can keep your wrap looking new. This prevents damage from pollutants, dirt, and other elements and allows you to extend your wrap’s lifespan.

[astarisms]

can i take a second to talk to you about our lord and savior zadthea

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.09

11/12/2020

Stirrings

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,297

Warnings: language, very light smut, sexual situations, weddings, marriage, pregnancy

A/N: So this is it. This is the one. I hope y’all like it. This is where plot rears its head. Or begins to anyway. I’ll leave y’all to enjoy it. If you do happen to like it and reblog it, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT REPOST my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

Dinner with the Warriors Three is eventful.

Several plates have already been knocked to the ground. Goblets and large mugs of mead and ale drop to slosh across the floor in the ruckus.

With a small yeep you duck just in time as a large sturdy turkey leg dripping with honey glaze and butter flies towards you and then hits the wall behind you.

“Hey!” Thor disapproves at Fandral and Hilde, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

He curls his fingers at you, calling you to him and you rise from your chair. You gather your skirts and scurry towards him in obedience. He wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to sit in his lap, turning slightly sideways so that he can shift to protect you with his body if he needs to.

“Watch where you’re throwing things!” He chastises but is ignored.

Volstagg had also cried out when Thor had, and their voices all mix together.

“Hey!” He rises from his seat so abruptly that it falls back and clatters noisily onto the floor. “Stop wasting the best parts!”

From the spot beside you where the turkey leg had clearly been aimed at but missed, Loki wipes at the juices that sprinkled his face as it flew by.

Heimdall chuckles lightly, his deep timber made to rival Thor’s you feel. Hilde also laughs, reaching out quickly to take Fandral’s plate from him before he can grab another piece of food.

“If you couldn’t take the comeback, why did you mouth off?” Loki asks Fandral, other than his wiping, he seems unphased.

“It was a simple question, Loki.” Fandral counters.

“No, it was a jab.” Sif is actually smiling, and you’ve taken to staring at her every few seconds.

She’s not paying attention to you in the moment, so you sitting on Thor’s lap is not her focus. It gives you lots of time to just admire her beauty. She’s so freaking pretty!

She’s also very much a part of this group. You can see where she fits now and she’s indispensable to these lovely Asgardians.

“All I did was ask him if he has a girl!”

“That’s assuming a woman is what he wants.” Hogun rationalizes, reaching to grab the large roll on his plate.

It’s not a normal roll. It’s made differently than what you know. It tastes amazing, but it has flavors that you’ve never had on Earth before.

“Ooh, that’s a good point.” Hilde snaps her fingers, pointing at Hogun before leaning against the table, arms folded and pushing her empty plate away. “So, what is it, Loki? Male? Female? Non-gendered?”

Loki looks highly aware of the fact that everyone seems to be watching him now. Even you find yourself looking at him, waiting to learn more about your brother-in-law to be.

He finishes wiping his face, dropping his napkin on the table before he leans back, placing his hands on his thighs. He meets Hilde’s gaze and gives her a narrowed eye grimace as he answers, “I don’t have a preference.”

The table seems to deflate, all of them disappointed for some reason.

“Well, that’s gonna make it harder to find you someone.” Volstagg acknowledges.

“It means we’ll have a wider pool to choose from.” Heimdall reasons.

“Loki would need to learn to put others before himself before he can even think about being with someone.” Sif contributes, bringing down the pleasant atmosphere a little.

You can feel Thor tense underneath you, your hands hurrying to give his wide shoulders a squeeze where you’ve got hold of them as he looks to his left at his lifelong friend.

“Sif…” He pleads.

Suddenly, this moment seems endless.

Everyone is silent. Across the table, you see Loki looking a little wounded. Like he’s been punched in the chest. Not hard, but enough to make him flinch.

You don’t like it. You really don’t like it.

You look at Sif with new eyes. And you speak before you can stop yourself. The anger that builds in your chest bubbles up and it’s bitter. It tastes like acid.

Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much her unwelcoming behavior towards you has bothered you.

“You’re joking right?”

She looks at you.

Thor’s arm loosens around your waist, his hand finding a spot on your hip.

She doesn’t seem to have anything to say, but you have plenty.

“I guess your rudeness doesn’t stop at me, but apparently extends to even your lifelong friends.” You’re seething, chest burning, head getting fuzzier as the adrenaline from confronting her getting the better of your senses.

“Cherub…” Thor whispers, not to stop you, but with worry.

A realization overcomes his face as it softens, and he sees how much her refusal to be nice has hurt you.

“Just so you know, since the moment I met Loki he’s been nothing but kind to me. He’s been friendly and supportive and helpful and already the best brother-in-law I could ask for. I was seriously excited to meet you and get to know you because I’d heard a lot about your accomplishments but since I got here you’ve been nothing but abrasive, dismissive, and inappropriate with the way you act around Thor when you think I’m not watching.

“As far as I’m concerned, the only one that needs learn to put others before themselves at this table, is you. And if I could have it my way, I would ask you not to come to the wedding on Thursday but I know Thor wants you there so, as your Queen, I’m ordering you to come, whether you like it or not.”

The room is silent. Even Vostagg has frozen, mid-chew.

You get up, Thor’s hand stuck to your hip as if glued there, but he doesn’t stop you. Everyone else stands, even Hilde and Sif. Though she does it more slowly, chewing on the inside of her lip.

“I can’t eat anymore.” You huff. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

You make for the door but stop as you reach it, hand placed on the handle before you turn back towards the table and find Loki.

“For what it’s worth, anyone you choose would be lucky to have you.” With a final firm nod, you shove the doors open and stomp your way back to your room, taking the stairs as quickly as you can while hiking up your dress so that you don’t trip.

Even though your hands are shaking, your heart pounding, you feel much lighter now.

In your room, you strip the day away, dress left in a mess just inside the door. Your shoes just after. Stockings. Bra. Underwear at the bathroom doorway.

The water is already steaming hot when you walk into it, a sigh of relief hissing through your lips as you dip down into the water until your shoulders are submerged.

You’re not sure how long you steep there in the water—it could be seconds or hours—before you finally hear the bedroom door open.

“Y/N?” The voice pulls you from your empty space, that soundless pit in your mind where you go when you drift off into non-linear tangents of thought.

It’s the space where most of your stories come from. A space no one but you knows about.

“Leaving me breadcrumbs, cherub?” Thor asks, his voice lower, still out in the room. “This trail is intriguing.”

Half of your lip curls up in a smile, you keep your back to the bathroom door, intent on keep your mouth shut as long as you can so that you can hear what he really thinks about what you’ve just done in that dining hall.

“Dress. Stockings. Brassiere.” He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice cracks. “Underwear.”

He’s in the bathroom doorway now, and you hear the hiss of all of your clothing fall back to the ground as he drops it at the sight of you.

“Hello. Might I join you?” He’s actually asking and will go away if you tell him he can’t.

Because you still don’t want to speak, you look over your shoulder at him and give him a gentle nod.

You keep watching him, staring at him as he reaches up and unhooks the straps on his armor. He moves to the long wooden slat bench along the wall and places it there. He follows it with his black shirt, then he sits and pulls off his shoes.

As he takes off each piece, he looks up at you, meeting your eyes and watches you for any give in your mood.

Whenever he’s not looking at you, you admire the bend and shift of his muscular torso. There’s a power in his body that you’re familiar with. Not strength. That’s not what you mean.

He’s got muscles, sure, and he can lift probably tons. You’ve seen the clips of him in fights around Earth.

What you’re thinking about is the power underneath all the appealing surface. He radiates it and it’s intoxicating. It makes you feel safe when he’s with you.

With his boots placed aside, he stands and unbuckles the leather belt around his waist. He opens the front of his pants and pushes them down.

No underwear.

You’re seriously tempted to smile at the fact that he’s been going commando all day long.  You resist.

He throws them behind him then sits on the edge of the pool before lowering himself into the heated water.

He sighs in comfort but doesn’t give himself time to relish in the feeling before he’s moving towards you, the sloshy water splashing his golden body.

You wrap your arms around yourself just as Thor wraps his around you too. He pulls you close, smooshing your breasts against his chest.

He dips down to kiss your bare shoulder, then your neck, side of your chin, then finally a small and incredibly irresistible peck to your lips that almost cracks you. You almost throw yourself on him.

Instead you pucker right back, kissing him because you can’t resist him completely.

He really does have you wrapped around his finger.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I have worried how you would handle yourself in this position of authority that you’re marrying into.” Thor admits, tracing the curve of your shoulder with his large fingers.

He dips down again, kissing it then nips at it, teeth grazing lightly to pull on the skin.

It makes you shiver.

“You should give me some orders too.” Thor mumbles, his voice thick with arousal.

You really wanna laugh. Instead you keep silent and after a few moments, he pulls back to look at your face. Neutral. Eyes observant. No sign as to what you might be feeling.

The atmosphere grows more serious. Even though he’s got you squeezed to him, when he meets your eyes, you can see the worry there.

“Why didn’t you say anything before if you were that upset about Sif?”

“I did say something.” You remind him. “And I’m sure Loki did too. And Hilde.”

“No,” Thor shakes his head. “All of you said that she was jealous and unwelcoming. You are the only one that could have told me that it was really bothering you.”

And he’s right. You hadn’t exactly acted like it bothered you except a passing wish that you could get to know her.

With a shrug you shake your head.

“I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me until tonight. She wasn’t being awful or anything. She just hasn’t said much to me.”

He’s silent for a bit, your eyes on the water by his elbow.

His hands find the sides of your face and gently he coaxes your gaze up to meet his own.

“I hate the thought of you suffering in silence.” He says, deep voice soothing the knots in your chest. “Promise you will tell me if anything or anyone hurts you. I will try my best to make it better.”

“You can’t fight my battles for me, Thor. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I can see that. But you don’t have to. I’d like to be useful if it’s possible. This might sound a little pathetic, but I’d very much like you to make me feel needed.” He pouts, and even though he’s playing with you, his words are real.

He doesn’t like being caught off guard. Not when it comes to things he should know. And by the looks of his face, the way that his playful pout turns into a real downturn to the corners of his lips, you fall under that category of things he should be aware of.

You nod, head barely moving underneath his heated hold.

He leans down to kiss you, just a loving peck before he wraps his arms around you to squish you against his body again and he tilts his head, urging your lips open with the tip of his tongue. He breathes in, a small moan pulled out of him as you swirl your tongue around his, tasting him. The honey in his ale still fresh.

He pulls back, eye still shut as he groans again. “Mmph, I could kiss you all day long and do nothing else.”

You know what he means. There’s something about these kisses, so charged. They feel amazing, toe curling.

Whatever chemistry the two of you have is all consuming and you don’t mind.

“Also, in case you think it went without my notice, I want to thank you for standing up for Loki.” Thor pushes your hair away from your face, leaning down to press another quick peck to your lips. “It means a lot to me that he has someone else on his side. After everything that’s happened, it’s hard for some people to see that he’s changed.”

“He’s been very nice to me. I didn’t like Sif talking to him like that. I know that I probably stepped on her toes. She’s known him longer than me, but the look on his face after she said what she said…” It’s making your blood boil all over again.

“Loki has done many things to warrant her mistrust, but her words were cruel. I’m very grateful you spoke on his behalf. I’m certain it meant a lot to Loki too.”

You untangle your arms from between your bodies, wrap them around him under his arms and lay your head against his chest.

“He’s my family now.” You sigh. “Both of you.”

It’s your new truth. You’re not alone anymore!

“I will fight for both of you if anyone hurts you.”

You feel it so fiercely that you squeeze him, and he actually groans at the gesture. You know that you can’t hurt him though, and he’s just humoring you.

He chuckles against your hair, kissing your head as he holds you back.

“I’m so glad you chose to come meet me.” Thor whispers, running his hand along the curve of your back.

“I’m so glad they forced me to come meet you.”

Both of you laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

The planet is nearly decimated.

It’s a shell of what it once was, but dark still. The cold bites harshly.

The rough terrain is snow-covered. Ice grows from the ground into tall towers that rise hundreds of feet into the frigid air.

In a crater, full of crumbling structures that once stood tall and menacing, is the entrance to a cave. The darkness dips down and winds through the ice, unstable and shifting, with cracks along ground walls and ceiling.

Despite the bitter cold, a small green light begins to glow down in the darkest pit.

The cave suddenly stretches, a ginormous cavern hundreds of feet in Jotunheim’s depths.

Through the darkness paces a figure, small in stature but glowing an almost ethereal jade. The light pulsates, wrapped around a female form. Her body is perfection. The Venus made flesh.

Her long blonde tresses cascade along her back, a golden river flowing past her waist. On her head a smooth emerald helm with twin peaks rising up like horns on either side of her brow.

Her tunic, well worn in the exact same shade of green as her helm as is the rest of her outfit. Over a pair of leather pants, an armored soft strap skirt laces up along her hips, and tall boot with a helix design in line stop just above her knees.

Her bodice is laced at her front, leather ties tied tight to keep out the cold. Her strong yet slender shoulders are wrapped in a long green cape, gray bear’s fur lining the neck for warmth. It sweeps around her as she carves a line in the ice with her restless movements.

From the darkest corner of the large cavern comes a deep but weakened voice.

“Cease your pacing, Asgardian. Before I stop it for you.”

His words are followed by a wheezing breath, a cough, and a deep slow sigh.

The woman stops, crossing her arms across her chest as she stares into the dark.

“How much longer must we wait? I can feel him slipping away from me. His eyes have wandered, yet again.” She drops one arm, slapping at her cloak in frustration.

“Your obsession with Odin’s whelp escapes my understanding.” The deep voice breathes in again, wheezes as he breathes out. “Remember my intent, witch. I will kill the God of Thunder.”

“Yes, I heard you the first million times you told me. I do not need the constant reminder. Thor will die.” She sighs, turning to look towards the entrance of the cavern, in search for the handsome golden face that rests in her heart. “You can kill him, as long as he dies loving me and only me. Thor is mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s your fifth time zoning out, your mouth slightly open as you stare at the reflection in your new vanity shoved into Thor’s spacious room.

“Your Highness?” Estrid nudges you, leaning forward to try and catch your attention.

“Hm?” You jump, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

She smiles at you kindly, knowing the source of your distraction. It isn’t hard to guess.

“What color rose shall we put in your hair?”

“Um…” You look down at your wedding dress, carefully spread out around you and held in place by your new set of intricate silver armor. It was cold when they’d put it on you, the metal touching your bare shoulders, but it’s padded so that it doesn’t hurt.

The design is very practical. It’s real armor that you’re expected to wear for official military events or if there is an actual attack on the palace. You’re going to be a warrior people’s Queen and a warrior husband’s wife. The armor is made for you to use.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t also beautiful.

Thor made very specific requests to its pieces. Along the sides around your stomach is a delicate floral design. The shoulder pieces, not to be worn today because it makes you look gentler and more refined, are also decorated along its edges with vines of smaller flowers and at one outer corner of each piece is a blooming rose with its petals spread wide.

Along your wrists and forearms you wear bracers, just as beautifully decorated and there to help hold your sleeves down.

“Thor’s armor will be black?” You check, trying to remember what he’s supposed to wear.

“Actually, Your Highness, his Majesty’s armor will be silver, to match your own. With gold highlights along his breast plate. His cape will still be red. That is his best color.” She smiles, her hand resting by the collection of roses in a wooden box that had been filled this morning from the gardens.

“Then we’ll go with the red rose. The one in full bloom, and this lighter one, in half bloom.” You touch each one gently, caressing the velvety petals in admiration of their pretty color.

“An excellent choice, Your Highness.” Estrid quickly goes to attaching them, adjusting your hair on the top of your head and pinning them into place.

“Are you almost ready?” Hilde’s voice filters in, the door now wide open as she stands there staring in at you.

Her eyes are bright, her mouth open in awe.

“Does it look bad?” You worry, reaching up to touch your hair then reaching down to fuss with the armor.

“You look…” Hilde stops, at a loss.

“Beautiful.” David provides, a calm smile stretched across his lips.

“You made it!” You gasp, getting to your feet just as Estrid finishes with the flowers and rush to him.

He hugs you, laughing as you squeeze him tight.

“Ouch,” he says, teasing you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You pull away and he laughs a bit more loudly. “I thought you weren’t going to make it back in time. Where did you go?”

“I had a favor to do for your husband to be.” David explains, then pushes you back so that he can take a better look at you. “You are really, absolutely beautiful.”

That makes you feel better. More confident.

“He’s so right.” Hilde agrees, nodding with what looks like joy in her eyes.

“Thanks, Hilde. David? You are going to walk me down the aisle, right?”

David’s face goes blank. He looks to Hilde and then to Estrid before he meets your eyes again.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you!” You laugh, giving his arms a squeeze. “David, you’re the closest thing I have to family in my life. You’ve been a real father to me through all of this and everything before. Of course, I want you to walk me down the aisle.”

David’s eyes slowly grow misty, his smile growing wide by the moment before he pulls you back into a gentle hug.

“It would be my honor.” David whispers just for you.

“Ooh, none of that.” Hilde interrupts, reaching out to pull the two of you apart. “No crying, you’ll ruin your makeup and Estrid will have to do it again.”

You all laugh. Sweet chuckles of impending excitement as the hour that will change your life grows closer.

You seriously cannot believe that in less than two hours, you’ll be married. More importantly, you’ll be the queen of an entire people.

Most of them have been so welcoming. They’ve eaten up any information they could get on you and you’ve been so grateful for their kindness.

“Hey guys? Anyone here?” A soft lilting voice flitters in from the doorway and you turn to see who posses such a sweet sounding tone.

What you find, you aren’t expecting.

Completely contrary to the small and gentle voice stands what looks like a large collection of massive rocks piled up in the shape of a burly man.

There is a definition at the end of its arms of hands, feet without shoes at the ends of its legs. And at the center of the large mass that makes up its head is a kind looking face. Pure eyes. And he’s got it all topped with a slick black suit and a light blue tie.

He lifts his massive hand and waves it. It’s a minute movement as he stands up straighter with all eyes in the room on him.

“You’re a Kronan.” You realize, pointing at him rudely.

“Yeah, my name is Korg. Thor’s best friend and best man. Even though I’m not really his best man, since there is no best man in Asgardian weddings which is a shame since I would probably most definitely have been his choice. After Loki of course. That’s his brother. And probably Heimdall. His other best friend. And the Warriors Three. But definitely before Miek.”

You chuckle once, a slightly surprised and nervous laugh before you reach out towards him to shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Korg. Thor was telling me about you yesterday. I’m Y/N. I’m so glad we can finally meet.” You wait patiently as his face goes slightly slack for a moment then he eagerly reaches out to take your tiny hand in his huge one.

He barely closes it around your own but shakes it with enthusiasm.

“Thor said you were a pretty lady. He failed to tell me about how nice you are. You’ll have to come over some time. To my house? We can play some Fortnite. I’ll even let you take the mythic.” He spouts, and you laugh again, just once.

“Oh. Okay. That’s so nice of you.”

He takes his hand back and Hilde finally moves to stand beside you.

“Did you just come to meet Her Highness? Or do you have a message from Thor?”

“Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Thank you, Valkyrie. The car is here and ready to take you on the drive through the city?”

“Drive through the city?” You turn your confusion to Hilde and she waves to Estrid for your cloak who then rushes away to fetch it.

“It’s a quick procession through the main roads. Since the city temple hasn’t been built, this will be the only way for the people to see you. Normally they would come to the temple to be witness to the ceremony.” She explains.

“So, that’s why we’re having the wedding and the recep-the feast in the throne room.” You realize, nodding as Estrid lays your cloak over your shoulders then clips the thick red cape around you.

“That’s right.” Hilde smiles. “Is Thor already down there?”

“Yep. He said to ask you to be quick.” Korg nods.

“Why?” You wonder, turning that twist of confusion back to him.

“Uh, he said he’d like to have his wife already and be on his honeymoon. Then he said some other things that I don’t feel comfortable repeating about curves and skin, which I don’t have, by the way and I find it a little cruel of him to mention how good it tastes, especially that of his pretty lady. Felt a bit like bragging to me. Kind of rude, to be honest.”

“Thank you, Korg!” Hilde interrupts as you press your hands to your cheeks and feel them burn.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You wheeze.

“Why don’t you head down and let him know we’re on our way? Tell Armod to prep the heater. It’s cold today.”

You know she’s only assuming for your benefit. She doesn’t feel the bite of the cold here like you do.

Korg lumbers off without another word while you turn to David.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” You worry, for some reason desperate to make sure he’s here to walk you down the aisle.

Now that you have that image in your head, you don’t want to let it go.

You hadn’t thought about having a husband since you were a little girl but even then, you’d imagined a father walking you down the aisle. You’d never thought you would get the chance. And you have it now.

“Of course.” David puts his phone down and reaches out to take hold of your elbow. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

The next hour is a rush of movement. Gentle pushing and tugging and guiding from Hilde, Loki, and finally Heimdall and Thor as they settle you into a large levitating carriage. It’s not Earth tech, with the clear curves and colors of Asgardian design.

It’s open, so you understand the need for the cloak now. Armod is sitting at the front of this little ship, hands on a weird sort of lever that is supposed to make up the steering wheel?

The whole thing reminds you a little of the speeders in Star Wars.

“What is this?” You ask in wonder, looking underneath the vehicle as if you might see how it works.

“This is a Skiff. Modified to comply with Earth regulations. Normally the steering mechanism would be at the back of the ship.” Heimdall informs you, moving to touch a small panel on the side which pulls a small step out towards you. “Your Highness?”

You take his hand, and he helps you up, Thor following shortly behind him.

He sits beside you, still not having said a word.

As you turn to look at him, admiring him from his booted toes to his silver winged helm, you realize that he’s staring at you.

“What?” You gasp, reaching down to touch the fabric of your cloak and the bottom edge of your armor.

Does it look weird? You in armor is not a look you’d ever thought you’d be rocking.

The heat of Thor’s hand traces along the bottom seam of your armor on your back. Fingers tickling the curve of your bottom before he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close with gentle strength.

“You’re the most beautiful creature in all of the nine realms, and beyond.” He gushes, and you laugh nervously.

Looking away from him because your neck, ears, and face are burning up and you can’t believe such a sappy grouping of words just came out of his stupid handsome mouth.

You feel his lips pressed to your temple, then cheek. You turn to look at him, wondering about what expression he’s wearing but instead he’s kissing you, eye shut, completely lost in the affection.

When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours. Breathing a little hard as you yourself shiver.

“I love you.” He whispers, so soft and quiet only you can hear him.

“Thor��” You breathe, reaching up to hold his hand as he places it on your cheek.

“You don’t have to say it back. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same. I just want you to know that this is it for me. I didn’t expect to feel this way by today but now that I do, I’m so grateful for you and I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His confession leaves you weeping, eyes flooded with tears that streak down along your cheeks.

“Thor…” You gasp, pulling him down to kiss him again, just one quick kiss so that you can free your mouth up to speak. “I love you, too. I didn’t know that I could feel this way so quickly. But I do. I love you.”

Thor smiles, the brightness in his face is radiant and you’d swear he is literally glowing.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, a laugh in his voice as he reaches into his own cloak to pull out a sleek black handkerchief.

He pulls it up to your cheeks and gently wipes the tears from your cheeks.

“Because you’re saying all these stupid sweet things that I want to hear and I’m so fucking happy, alright?” You sob just once, reaching out to push against his chest but he catches your arm and pulls you into a hug as he chuckles.

The Skiff begins to move, and you and Thor pull apart when the cheers begin.

You’re still trying to catch up in your mind to the mass of people waving and cheering from the sides of the main street through the city. There are endless flashes from human reporters who came to take pictures. In no time at all, the Skiff is pulling up to the front of the palace.

David is waiting for you and he frowns at the tear stains on your cheeks but a quick look at Thor and his dip to kiss your lips wipes all worries from his mind.

“See you in there, cherub.” Thor calls to you, leaving you just outside the doors of the throne room.

Estrid meets you there and quickly goes to work on fixing your face.

“It’s okay.” You squirm, trying to keep Thor in view but the doors close and all you get to see is the long table on the right side of the room with two large chairs meant for you and Thor during the feast and an array of smaller tables on the opposite side of the room.

Along the left side wall, at the very back are a group of men and women, all wearing stiff black suits. The ambassadors?

“They were happy tears.” You continue to resist, eyes lingering on the scary government group.

“Hilde will tear my hide, Your Highness. Please.” She begs and you stay still for her even though you doubt that Hilde would ever hurt anyone like she suggests.

“Are you nervous?” David asks, reaching to straighten your hair.

“No.” You admit, shaking your head only when Estrid is done with your face.

Instead her hands are on the clasp of your cloak as she peels it off of you and throws it over her arm and then moves around you to straighten your dress.

“I’m so ready to be his wife, David.” You sigh, the feeling of madness on the edges of your mind. “Is that weird? It doesn’t feel weird.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not weird, if it’s really how you feel. I only want you to be happy.”

“He makes me happy. Really. I was worried about Jane in the beginning and scared about loving him if he didn’t love me back. But he’s more invested in us than I thought he would ever be. He’s being real, I think. It feels real. When he tells me he loves me, it doesn’t sound like a lie.”

David watches you, then taps Estrid on the shoulder. “Thank you, I think she’s ready. Tell them we’ll be right in.”

Estrid gives you a curtsy and disappears through the doors.

You steal a look and spot Thor rolling back and forth on his feet in front of the throne as Loki talks in his ear beside him.

He looks towards you and he smiles, stopping his nervous movement as he locks eyes with you.

Your heart stutters. The doors close again.

“Y/N…I want you to be vigilant with your emotions. You say that his declarations don’t sound like lies and they might not be. But lies like that never sound like lies.”

Your heart sinks a little, your mind racing with every moment that Thor has been sweet with you.

“It’s real, David.” You protest.

“Yes.” He nods, taking your hands in his. “After watching the two of you together, I believe both your emotions are real. Just as you say. I only want you to guard your heart. I want you to protect yourself.

“Marriage is not easy. I have only my own experience to speak from, but there were many obstacles that I did not expect. Laura and I hurt each other many times.” David explains.

“But you and Laura were together until the end. You were both so in love.” You hadn’t known his wife long.

She’d passed only a year after you having known her but every time you’d seen them, they’d been the picture of romantic love and true friendship.

“We were.” He nods, “But it wasn’t always easy. She and I both made many mistakes. Small ones and mistakes that challenged the very core of our relationship. Mistakes that almost tore us apart.

“And this is your first relationship. The first time you’ve ever given yourself over to someone like this. I’m worried for you. That’s all.”

“And that’s why I love you. You’ve been here for me when I’ve needed you most. I will be careful but I want to embrace what I’m feeling.”

“And that’s all I want too. Just your caution. Protect your heart, Y/N. No one else will protect it better than you.”

Really, you understand his worries. This is such a risk not only for you but for Thor too. The two of you hardly know each other.

Your chemistry is through the roof, but there is so much about who you two are as people that you still have to learn. Your lives as King and Queen will also play a part in how your marriage will come together.

Will you have time for each other? Time to make an heir? Time to spend time with whatever family you’re able to make?

“I can’t promise you that I’ll guard my heart well.” You shake your head but squeeze his hands tighter. “I can only promise that I’ll be true to how I feel. If something starts to go wrong, I’ll be open about it. With Thor and with anyone there to support us.”

Because let’s face it, you’ve known for a while that you’re absolutely fucked when it comes to Thor.

You’re head over heels and grateful that he is too. At least your marriage will begin with love even if in time, that fades. You’ll always have the memories you’re making now.

“I suppose this is the apprehension every father feels when his daughter marries. I’ll have to suck it up. But just know, that if you ever need a place to go, if something should be terrible enough that you need to leave, my home will always be open to you as sanctuary.

“I will protect you, as best I can when the time comes.” He pulls you to him, hugging you tightly.

“If,” you correct him. “If the time comes.”

Because you’re certain in your bones that Thor loves you and you love him, and the only thing that could tear that love apart is each other and you can’t see either of you making such a stupid mistake.

The large wooden doors open. David pulls back and takes your hand, wrapping it around his elbow. He lets you take a breath before he takes that first step towards the throne where Thor stands waiting, beaming with joy as his future wife approaches.

[bukojuiice]

thank god for plot twists like you.

ೃ pairing: (katsuki bakugo x fem! reader)

ೃ warnings: cursing, (courtesy of Bakugo) and slight innuendo.

ೃ genre: fluff overload!! ♡

ೃ  my ongoing bakugo x reader smau (please do give it a read if you have time!) my writing masterlist (if you want to see more from me! c:)

ೃ word count: 1,388 words

ೃ  song inspo: plot twist by niki

ೃ  Katsuki barges in your dorm room after class to see you crying in your bed with your phone in your hand... but why exactly?

It was a typical Saturday afternoon. After a tiring day of classes and hero training, you finally have the chance to rest and relax. And what better way to do that than to read fanfictions?

Oh... fanfictions.

These literary pieces are either a blessing or a curse to a human being on this earth. They bring joy, sorrow, anger, frustration, and it allows your imagination to run wild as you think of all these scenarios and alternate universes. There are even times when fanfiction itself is written better than it’s source material.  

Reading fanfictions is a hobby and daily activity done by millions of people in this world. However, how will your explosive boyfriend react when he finds out?

Not that it is a big of a deal anyway but... Katsuki is a bit harsh, abrasive, and he tends to speak his mind a lot. At times, he says things that he doesn’t even mean at all. The two of you would hang out every day, usually after classes. And so, you are always constantly putting yourself in the middle of danger whenever he comes to hang out with you in your dorm room. As there’s a slight chance that he would catch you reading a 30,750 word fic on Tumblr or Archive of Our Own.  

But there was never really a special activity out there so that the two of you could bond. 

Watching movies with him and playing video games was normal for a couple in a relationship but you wanted to do something with Katsuki that was unique to the two of you alone. 

Unbeknownst to you, that day would soon come. 

Not only did he discover something about you, but, the two of you ended up being much more closer after this fated day.

And that day... is today.

“Sorry Mina-chan! I’m busy this afternoon! You guys can go on and get some ice cream without me!”

You slowly shut the door behind you, waving goodbye to your pink friend. As you  drop your school bag on the floor, you quickly and rather hastily change into much more comfortable sleepwear. After a few minutes, you jump and slump on the bed as you let out a tired yet relieved sigh. “It’s time to read once again and be whisked away to another world.” You then crawl to the edge of your bed, and reach out to pull the drawer from your bedside table. 

You’ve hidden snacks in there from time to time so that you could eat something while reading your beloved stories on the internet. For today, you decided to bring out a box of Pocky you had stashed inside.

Hours felt like minutes as you continued to read with no care in the world. It was a few minutes before sun down, and here you are. A sobbing pile of mess. Crying your heart out over the fact that the Main Character is too naive and dense to notice the feelings of your favorite character (who is the second lead) and so, your favorite character starts falling in love with someone else. 

“Why does this happen to me!? Why is this fic putting me through so much pain and torture!?” 

You continue to bawl and cry your eyes out that you didn’t even notice someone entering your room.

“(Y/N).... why the hell are you crying!? Did something happen!?” Bakugo says in a annoyed yet concerned voice.

You feel your body freeze up. You do not want him to see you in this state. Especially since you’re crying over stories. Fanfictions for that matter. What would we say? How would he react? What if he thought you were weird and end up saying something insensitive that could possibly strain your relationship?

“I-it’s nothing.” You slowly turn your head to him. Once the two of you met each other’s eyes, his annoyed expression softens. “I’m fine Katsuki-kun. Don’t worry.” You try to ease his concern by giving him a half-hearted smile. You noticed that he had just finished with training and then most probably took a shower as his hair still looked a bit wet 

The blonde teen sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Why were you screaming anyway?”

You jerk up from the bed and twiddle your fingers. “Ahahahahaha that’s a good question.”  Katsuki continues to give you a suspicious look as he approaches you and sits down next to you on the bed.

Before you could even react, he grabbed (more like snatched) your phone from you and began to scroll down. “(Y/N)... are you reading stories online?”

“Maaaybe maaybe not~” You whistle, trying your best to act normal and TO NOT PANIC as your boyfriend had literally just snatched your phone from you to check what you were doing. At least you were able change to a different story from the tabs before he could see what you were originally reading.

“He licked the tip of his-” Your explosive blonde boyfriend began to read aloud an excerpt from the fanfiction you were reading. “My oh my (Y/N)... is this the reason for your screaming and squealing?” He smirks deviously and scoots closer to you by putting his arm around your shoulder.

You nod. “Yes. This is also why Ochaco-chan has been teasing me by saying that she’s been hearing me snicker and silently cry at night... It’s embarrassing. I know.” You look down on the floor, unsure of what else to say to Katsuki.

The tense atmosphere suddenly disappeared when Katsuki began to laugh. “Silently crying?” He stifles another laugh. “Seriously?”

“Okay... imagine this.” You reach for his hands. He raises a brow at your sudden gesture of affection. “WHAT IF if your favorite character who was meant to be with the main character, gives up hope because the main character is too dense to notice their feelings that they start falling in love with someone else!?” Tears began to stream down from your cheeks again, remembering the angst and the pain the Author put you through. “Won’t you feel really bad and depressed about that!?” 

Katsuki looks at you with a with a very perplexed yet peeved expression. He then notices the passion and the eagerness in your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile a little because of how cute you looked. “Yea. I guess that would be pretty shitty. Why the fuck are you letting it get to you so much though? It’s just a story.”

“That’s the thing!” You exclaim, scooting even closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “These are just stories yet they’ve impacted me so much to the point that I’m crying over literary pieces of fiction.” 

“Would you like to read one with me?” You look up at him with your brightest puppy eyes, tilting your head. 

He averts your gaze in attempt to hide hid his usual gruff look, you were about to declare defeat as he might not want to do this sort of thing with you and you didnt want to pry any further. 

Until...

“Fuck it. Let’s do this.”

♡‧₊˚

“(Y/N...) I can’t take this anymore.” Bakugo whines in defeat, dropping your phone on your hands. “How can a story like this fuck someone up so mentally? Can we read something else? Like some of your shoujo manga shit instead?”

Your eyes lit up at Bakugo’s dramatic reaction to the fanfiction you had just made him read. He was surprisingly interested. His eyes were intense and passionate. The same look he has whenever he would train against Midoriya, Todoroki or even Kirishima and, you couldn’t be happier. The two of you finally had something to do that was only unique and special to the two of you. 

“Sure! This one over here is a pretty short read, so we can finish it before dinner!” You wrap your arms around his torso, and hug him close. Although Katsuki wasn’t your typical physically affectionate boyfriend, there were times were he couldn’t help but reciprocate your love language. Today is one of those rare times. 

His arms encircle your waist as he brings you closer to him. “This better be good or else.” He grunts.

“Oh it is and there are so many other genres for us to read that is just waiting to be explored.”

Fin.

[kewltie]

sugar baby reverse au in which older!izuku used to babysit the cute kid next door but now katsuki is a famous top ranking hero and izuku is just... quirkless, aimless and not knowing what to do with his life until he meet katsuki again who is all grown up now and insisting in taking care of izuku this time around.

izuku always wanted to become a hero but having never met All Might, never got AFO, therefore he never went to UA,  so his dream never got fulfilled. though he tried desperately to find meaning in other places but it's all lacking so he moved from one job to another, constantly drifting and just feeling empty that it feels hopeless, he feels hopeless. so down on his luck and thinking of moving back home to his mom because he's nearing 30 right now and it's on his like 20th jobs so far; he hasn't settle down or find something that holds any purpose or meaning for him. it's like everything he has done so far feels so useless, like every step he took led to nowhere, like nothing he had done is nothing worthy at all.

then he bumps into katsuki after having caught in a villain attack and katsuki was the hero on scene, his life starts to take a very abrupt turn.  KACCHAN the kid next door whom he used to babysat, who had shared the same dream as izuku BUT was able to pursued and forcibly grabbed it for himself because katsuki was always so capable, so strong, and so determine... unlike izuku :((. izuku feels terribly embarrassed because he just got fired from his latest job, his rent is late that he's going to get evicted soon, and he's in shabby clothes that been worn down. he really doesnt want to face katsuki in all his glory and triumphant, the symbol of success, while izuku is the definition of failure.

that bratty kid who used to bully izuku, who even though was several years older than him cant help capitulate under the fierce tyrant demands, for being weaker, quirkless, and inferior to him in every way has every reason to mock the useless person izuku has become now. except katsuki doesn't do that, he takes in izuku's shitty condition and pretty much wrestles/harassed izuku into his home and let him 'stay' in his fancy condo until izuku can find a new job and afford a place later. this is what izuku convinces himself anyway lol because THIS IS TOO WEIRD

the kid that blew hot, saw the world as something to be conquered, and people like izuku were worth dirt under him had all grown up now, his rage and pride tempered by time, and challenged by UA. he's still mean and sharp but his edges have soften that it doesnt cut izuku the same way anymore. he abruptly extended a hand toward izuku, to offer izuku assistance in his time of need with out any posturing and mockery even though he didn't mince his words with how izuku is basically wasting away righ and if he didn't accept any help then he's A FUCKING IDIOT, katsuki sneers.

having pretty much bullied izuku into living with him because izuku may have his pride but he's also painfully aware of his wretched existence right now and that if he truly want to make something of himself, something greater he got to take katsuki's hand because this may be his last chance. so they end up living together; the most famous rookie and the one everyone is hailing as the coming of all might, and there's izuku, poor, hopeless and quirkless izuku who is older than katsuki but katsuki is literally paying for his clothes, food, rent etc providing for him!

izuku desperately tries to find a reason for his presence here in katsuki's life by like being ultra helpful—cleaning the house, cooking, grocery shopping etc like chores and houseworks which he thought katsuki would like especially the idea of izuku being subservient or show some gratitude toward him but katsuki who has been living alone for a while now and is actually very self-sufficient that he ends up cooking most of the time, cooking way better than izuku LOL, and he genuinely likes cleaning and doing houseworks and bullied izuku away from them SO HE CAN DO IT HIMSELF. like,,, izuku ends up barely doing anything because katsuki literally take CARE OF EVERYTHING FOR HIM. izuku just basically spent most of his time at home, reading up articles, hero analysis, watching shitty romcoms and documentaries, and just living THE BEST KEPT MAN LIFE while katsuki works hard to provide and take care of him. like, the words sugar daddy is never EXPLICITLY said between them or reference and both of them NEVER even consider what passes between them as that because katsuki really enjoy being an overbearing caretaker that spoil izuku ruthlessly and izuku who never been pamper and spoiled like this is just confused but also kinda guiltily happy because beside his mom he never been treated this kindly even though Katsuki’s version of taking care of Izuku is abrasive and rough but it’s kindness in the deepest way because he expects nothing from Izuku. Not even his gratitude.

izuku still worry and frets over trying to find a job, something he can do to give back to katsuki while katsuki who spent hours fighting the worst kind of ppl and trying to save ppl who need to be save, is exhausted and weary everytime until he come home and izuku is THERE. izuku who always welcome him home with smile and a greeting; his warmth presence had turned katsuki's long empty and cold condo into a home because he can now see izuku's presence in every crevasses, the All Might figurines, the heroes merch, the articles strewn all over the table, etc. his condo is messy but feels lived in now because izuku’s fingerprints is all over this place. The condo in which was just a place for him to sleep and recover is now turned into a home for him, for THEM because katsuki who loves the thrill of the fight and high of winning, can feel it all crashing down when a life he supposed to rescue is lost... but izuku is here and he can lay his tired head on izuku's comforting shoulder.

whatever this is is never completely address because it's not explicitly spoken out loud as a romantic thing and katsuki never lord the money he had spent for izuku over izuku's head but there's an underlining of time, investment, and devotion to nurture this strange nebulous relationship between them. while izuku offers a place for katsuki to rest his weary soul and to comfort and counsel him, katsuki offers izuku everything that comes with power, wealth, protection and opportunities that he wouldn't have gotten elsewhere because now Izuku can become this close to his dream to part of the hero community because Katsuki lets him inside his world.

for most it's an uneven relationship because katsuki has all the power and with just one swipe, katsuki can take it all away but in the privacy of their home, when katsuki come home tired and dragging his feet izuku says, 'welcome home' and he breathes that much easier because izuku is there for him; the warmth and affection of another human being can weathered any storm; it’s the start of their love.

[weeb-stomper]

Bakugou KatsukixFem!Reader - Desk Work

Word Count: 2,170

~Hello~

*In surprised old man voice* “It’s been 57 years.....”

No seriously, sorry for not posting in so long! Art block is a bitch :( But I’m back! I have something in the works that’s taking way longer than I thought it would, so I busted this out over the last few days just to get things goin again on the ol’ writing blog :) hope you enjoy, NSFW below cut

special thank you to @wootato and @kat-unzel for beta reading this so many times. Also tagging @cupcake-rogue because she went out of her way to mention something I wrote in a post the other day and she made me feel all UwU-soft :)

Tagging all my friends cause ha

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

     Patrolling with Dynamight had been difficult at first. He was abrasive and stand-offish, a wolfish thirst for power kept him from having many friends and the calculated strength he brought to every fight was admittedly a bit scary. Civilians were equal-parts likely to ask for his autograph as they were to cross the street when they saw the two of you coming, with the exception of the countless women who would attempt to chat him up throughout your patrols. You couldn’t say you didn’t get it, if you were honest. He was quite attractive, and you’d passed an embarrassing amount of time wondering what those calloused fingers might feel like digging into the meat of your thighs, what that mocking sneer might taste like when it melted into your mouth…But considering the cold way he brushed off his adoring public, those fantasies remained as they were. Fantasies.

     All you could say now was that if you’d had any idea how this day might turn out, you would have worn cuter underwear.

     You were sat in Bakugou’s lap, your back against his chest and his feet hooked around your ankles, prying your knees open so wide your hips hurt. You wondered in passing where exactly your shorts had gone before a sharp pain at your pressure point erased your thoughts once again, the resulting moan echoing in the stale air of his office. Your jaw ached, Bakugou’s fingers stretching your mouth open so wide you thought your lips might split, his other hand pinching and tweaking your nipple underneath the stretchy material of your hero costume’s top. The taste of his sweat flooded your mouth, his rough fingers smashing your tongue against the sharp edges of your teeth and allowing drool to spill out and run down your chin. His breath was hot against your neck as he sucked another mark onto the sensitive skin just below your ear, the overwhelming scent of burnt caramel filling your nose.

     “C’mon sweetheart, where’s all those stupid jokes now?” Bakugou hissed against your ear, hand dropping from your chest to rub harsh circles against your clit. “You were so fuckin annoying on patrol today, I thought for sure you’d be a good girl for me.”

     A choked sob wracked your shoulders as his pace picked up, the rumble of his manic laughter reverberating through your ribs completely overwhelming your senses: Taste, smell, hearing, feeling, he was everywhere on you at once and it was just too much. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing against him, wordlessly pleading for more. Your head spun, growing more and more hazy as his ministrations continued, dragging ragged moans and whines from your lungs against your will. If he’d just let you cum once, if he could show you that kindness, you’d do anything.

     Your head tilted towards the door of his office in the far corner of the room, noting with a cracked whimper that he hadn’t even bothered to lock it before he’d set on you. You felt him smile against your shoulder as his eyes followed yours, a pang of panic ringing in your head a split second before he sank two fingers inside of you. A guttural moan poured from your lips, your back bowing against him as he began working you over.

     “Heh...you finally noticed? Took ya long enough, sweetheart. You’re dumber than I thought.” He chuckled, feeling you clench around his fingers at his harsh words. “You like that, huh? Then why don’t ya beg for me, sweetheart?”

     A fresh torrent of drool dripped past your lips as Bakugou finally pulled his hand from your mouth, fingers still connected to your lips by a nearly-invisible strand of saliva. Swallowing back as much as you could, you worked your jaw open and closed, easing some of the built up tension there. It had been painful, but you couldn’t help but miss the taste of him. An all consuming sense of emptiness mixed into your lust clouded mind when his other hand trailed up from between your legs, and you let out a low whimper at the loss. If he kept up like this, you were sure you’d pass out. His hands settled on your hips, gently urging you off his lap and turning you to face him.

     He remained slumped in the chair, a wide grin showed the now familiar sharp canines at the edges of his smile. Half lidded eyes raking down your face, trailing across the swelling marks that framed your neck on either side before skipping down to settle between your legs, heightening the feeling of your own slick rolling down your thighs, and his breathing faltered for a moment. It was humiliating, standing half naked and wrecked in front of your boss like some fucked out groupie, and your hands subconsciously drifted to the hem of your top, knotting into the elastic material as you shifted anxiously in front of him. Risking a glance, you noticed the strained tent of his pants. Even through the thick fabric of his hero costume you could tell he was big and, you realized with a surge of pride, that he wanted you. A vicious grin stretched your abused lips.

     Bakugou was silent as you sank to your knees between his legs, his smirk falling as you slid your hands up his muscled thighs, looking up at him through tear spattered lashes with wide, innocent eyes as you worked his belt undone. The softness of your touch left him frozen, his head tipping back against the seat when you finally tugged down his waistband to free his cock. Flattening your tongue, you licked a long strip up the underside of him, drinking in the loud groan that slipped past his lips. Those hands you’d quickly grown addicted to twitched, moving to tangle in your hair, but you slapped them away. He growled as you continued taunting him, placing small kitten licks and sloppy kisses against his member and relishing the needy way he tried to push into your mouth whenever you strayed too close to the head.

     “I don’t beg for shit.” Your voice was hoarse but confident. You were playing a dangerous game and you knew it, but seeing him all riled up from your teasing was such a power trip that you couldn’t resist.

     Your stomach dropped as your eyes slid up to Bakugou’s face, meeting his gaze for the first time since before he’d closed the door. His lips were pulled back in an animalistic sneer, glaring down at you with half-lidded eyes. The furious crimson staining his cheeks did nothing to soften his expression, like it might have were this literally any other situation. A small giggle tumbled from your mouth despite the warning written plainly on his face. Ya, you’d worked him up. 

     Big mistake.

     His hand shot into your hair, gripping tightly at the roots and guiding your head to him while the other hand held his cock steady. He shoved himself sloppily against your lips, smearing precum across your mouth and cheeks. You gasped as his hold on your hair shifted, a burning pain exploding across your scalp, and he seized the opportunity to force his way past your swollen lips and bottom out in your mouth. Tears pricked your eyes once again at the new sensation as his now-free hand shifted into your hair to maneuver your head along his length. 

     “Keep runnin your mouth, sweetheart.” Bakugou snarled, slamming himself against the back of your throat and making you gag against the intrusion.

     He shuddered, rough hands cementing you in place against him. Your eyes widened, a reflexive wave of panic sang through your veins as the seconds stretched on, your nails digging deep into the tops of his legs and a hazy tingling the edges of your mind as the lack of oxygen made itself known. You hollowed your cheeks around him, doing your best to work your tongue against his shaft and dropping a hand between your legs to give some much-needed attention to your neglected core. The feeling was euphoric, the tension building inside you feeling more and more unbearable as Bakugou’s moans mingled with the small whimpers escaping around his cock until your shoulders were shaking. Pins and needles erupted across your skin as your orgasm crashed over you, your shoulders folding forward as you slumped against him, thighs twitching as you rolled your hips into your hand.

     He tore himself from your mouth with a stuttering groan, ignoring the way you coughed and sputtered for air as he rose from his seat, pulling you onto unsteady feet. Spinning you around quickly, he planted a hand between your shoulders and shoved you down against the desk in front of you. The cool wood felt good against your heated skin and you relaxed against the surface. You clutched the edges of the fine wood for support as you indulged in your peak, savoring the lingering muscle twinges and blissed out fog still wrapping your mind. It was only when you felt something hard press against your entrance that you came to your senses, managing to slur out a ‘wait’ before he sank into you to the hilt, immediately pulling you undone again. You almost screamed, patches of white popping in your vision as he began thrusting into you wildly, writhing in painful ecstasy as he hit that sweet spot inside of you over and over again. The sound of that malicious laughter cut filled your ears once again 

     “Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me.” He groaned, planting a hard slap against your ass. “Keep making those cute little noises for me, ok?”

     You were being too loud, you knew, but you couldn’t stop the salacious moans and whimpers from bubbling past your lips between mindless praises and begs. Dignity was a forgotten concept at that moment. You couldn’t care less if someone walked in, saw you rocking back into his Bakugou’s thrusts like the pathetic, desperate little thing you felt like, or heard the way you mewled and cried for your boss to fuck you till you couldn’t breath. All that matter was chasing the high that Bakugou gave you, the stretch in your walls as he used you completely for himself.

     The breath was again stolen from your lungs as he slammed down on top of you, pressing your chest so hard against the desk you could feel your ribs creak. His rhythm was growing sloppy, hands groping you wherever he could reach as he neared his own climax slipping beneath your shirt to dig into the burning flesh of your waist. A sudden desire erupted in your lusty mind, and you lifted your head, trying in vain to communicate with the man above you. He let out a frustrated growl that reverberated against your back, threading his fingers into your hair and jerking your head to the side enough to look you in the face.

     “What the hell do you want, sweetheart? Spit it out!” He demanded, carmine eyes glued to your bruised lips.

     “I’m on the pill!” You sobbed, voice no more than a cracked whine.

     You shuddered at the wolfish grin that split his face as he processed your words, releasing your hair and digging his fingers into your waist hard enough to bruise.

     “You wanna be my little slut? All filled and dripping with my cum?”

     You nodded frantically, struggling to match him when his pace picked up.

     His eyes darkened. “Then say please.”

     You didn’t hesitate. How could you?

     “Katsuki, please!”

     That was it. He hugged you tight against his chest as he finished inside of you, painting your insides with thick ropes of cum, thrusting into you shallowly as he rode out his high, the immense feeling of fullness bringing you to your own peak once again. You went completely limp against the desk, letting out a sharp wail as tremors took over your body once again. It was the most deliciously overwhelming thing you’d ever experienced, completely blotting out your vision for a few seconds and cancelling out everything except the feeling of him still buried inside of you.

     Eventually, the two of you separated, Bakugou tucking himself neatly back into his pants before crossing the room to retrieve clean clothes from the small cabinet in the corner opposite the door. Rather than right yourself, you slid to the floor behind the desk. The twinges in your legs hadn’t completely subsided, but the cold air of the room was starting to become an issue as you realized again that you had no idea where Bakugou had thrown your shorts earlier. Your eyes trailed lazily around the room, briefly appreciating the sight of a now-shirtless Bakugou before grazing past the open door.

     OPEN DOOR!?

     Your eyes darted back to Bakugou, who was now staring at the door with a mixture of horror and shock. You couldn’t help but laugh, slumping back against the desk.

     “Jeanist is gonna be so mad at us.”

@kat-unzel @wootato @sawamooora @honeyyandere @anxietyplusultra @redpandaramblings @krystalwithakay @dynamightslittlehotpocket @spooky-all-year-round @nkjktk @cupcake-rogue

[zet-sway]

Spiritual Shrios Summer Prompt Fill - "Wet"

I had a goal to do at minimum one (1) prompt from rosenkow's Spiritual Shrios Summer challenge and here it is. I have other ideas percolating for some of these other prompts though

AO3 Link - "Secrets in the Steam" - Prompt word: "Wet"

I've elected to completely throw away Kepral's Syndrome and whatever other ugly realities happened in ME3. I wanted a steamy hot tub scene with Thane in the Citadel DLC, so I wrote one. The war is over, they're happy. ALSO yes I know there are no windows by the hot tub in the Citadel apartment but I put one there. Because I can.

Anyway I haven't done this fanfiction thing in a few years so uhhhh yeah i was going to say don't come for me but then i realized maybe those aren't the words i'm looking for looooooollll i'm not funny

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

Shepard's citadel apartment was entirely too large, by his standards. The décor wasn't what he would have chosen but he liked it well enough. Truth be told, he'd like a damn cave well enough as long as she was with him. The guest rooms were a nice touch but he felt the expansive quarters to be largely unnecessary - that was, until she mentioned something about there being a heated jacuzzi large enough to fit half her crew. He'd thought her to be exaggerating until they arrived and he saw it with his own eyes. It wasn't until days later that they would have a chance to actually use it.

They had just returned from one of their more intense PT sessions. Shepard wasn't quite willing to give up some of the rigors of her military life, and Thane thought that suited him just fine. They kept each other on their toes. Actually, she had a wild goal of wanting to be able to bench press him, and given her determination he thought he might soon have that privilege. Worn out, they entered the apartment and prepared to wash up.

Dropping her things on a table by the door, Shepard made a beeline straight for the bedroom, shucking her clothes as she went. "I'm going for a soak, you want in?" she called from the other side of the flat.

Thane tossed his shirt into the laundry and followed her, rounding the corner into their room to find her already immersed, stretched out on her belly along the hot tub bench. Propped up on her elbows, the only parts of her not submerged beneath the foaming water were her head, her shoulders and the rounded curve of her backside. "Nice view," he mused, a genuine smile on his lips.

"Get in here," she said playfully.

He undressed and eased into the water beside her, a heady sigh escaping his throat. The water was exquisitely warm and he sagged against the edge of the bath, stretching his arms out along the tile and breathing deeply.

"Well, what do you think of the new digs?" She asked, peering up at him through her lashes. A few damp strands of hair clung to the edges of her face and neck and her skin was flushed with the heat of the steam.

He let his head fall back as he closed his eyes, fixated on the luxurious feeling of the hot water swirling around them. "Siha, this is positively divine."

She laughed. "I thought you'd say that. Does the water help with your scales?"

"Yes, actually. The water helps to soften the old growth as it prepares to fall away."

"Living on a starship must be rough, then."

"It isn't as bad as you might expect. Abrasives are sometimes used instead. I believe humans call them 'exfoliants.'"

"Mm," she said. "Guess we'll be spending a lot of time here, then."

"I wouldn't object."

Beneath the water's surface, he felt a soft hand brush along his abdomen, tracing across the hills and valleys of his musculature. He let her explore to her liking and she scooted up beside him, pressing herself close. The heat seemed to permeate his every nerve and he felt like he could melt into the floor.

He sighed as she pressed a small kiss into his scales. "You know, I have nowhere to be for the rest of the night," she said quietly, resting her head on his shoulder.

Thane quirked a brow at her statement, wanting to be sure he heard her correctly. Since coming to the citadel, Shepard's schedule had been unending military and political appointments, and she spent much of her free time visiting Kolyat with him or connecting with her crew. They had precious little time to enjoy themselves alone, and what time they did have was often spent sleeping or preparing for the next event. Her notoriety was a blessing and a curse. So when she whispered she could be his for the evening, he felt his blood awaken with desire.

"What shall we do with ourselves then?"

"As if you even have to ask," she laughed quietly. She was kissing his neck softly, hand smoothing down along his chest to slip beneath the water and settle beneath his thighs. Oh yes. His head spun with wanting, fueled by the decadent, molten heat of the bath - he hadn't made love like this in years. The memories consumed his conscious thoughts and he sat up to pull her into his arms. Shepard stopped him with a gentle hand.

"Relax, lover. Let me."

She rose from her seat and stood before him like a vision. The vapor of the bath blurred the hazy colored light streaming in through the windows and steam rose off her naked body like the promise of sunbeams after a summer rain - an angel, a goddess. He never wanted to be apart from her.

One leg at a time, she climbed astride him. The cooling water on her skin kissed his scales and he hummed in contentment, settling his arms around her waist. They began with a kiss, a simple, indulgent pleasure they were often forced to forgo, given his biology and her demanding schedule. He treasured every kiss they were afforded, her lips soft and yielding, parting easily beneath his so he could truly taste her. There was slow silence between them as they connected, an unhurried exchange of unspoken promises. Beneath the water, she pressed her center against him and slowly began to grind, not yet engulfing him but teasing him - teasing herself, breath hitching as she moved over each of his ridges.

He brought a hand around to slowly massage her breast and she sighed into his touch. He thought himself blessed beyond words to have such a sensitive and receptive lover. She reacted in earnest, pressing her chest into his hands and he set to work mouthing a trail from her neck down to the tips of her breasts, her head tilting back with a quiet gasp as he teased her.

He looked up at her, tongue dragging slowly over one tightened nipple. Heavy lidded eyes gazed down at him, pupils blown wide under the effects of his kiss, watching him. "Thane..." She breathed, "I want to..." She moaned as he sucked her flesh between his lips, deliberately making any attempt to drive those delicious sounds from her throat.

"I'm yours, Siha," he murmured into her skin.

Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, her hips rose and her hand slipped beneath the water to guide him where she burned for him the most, pulling a low vibration from his chest while she slowly took him into her body. His head fell back and she all but collapsed over him, shallow breaths whispering against his throat as she enveloped him. The pressure - the heat of her was exquisite. They were still for a few precious moments while the steam collected and condensed on their bodies, beads of cooling water rolling down them like sweat, until she rose to grasp his shoulders and ride him.

The swirling water of the bath tempered her motions and through dreamy haze of warmth and steam he was in awe of her. She was divine, transcending mortality. She rocked her hips and the water followed her movement as though she commanded it, bidding his nerves to sing with otherworldly pleasure. Their existence was movement within and without, joined in the languid heat with no beginning or end. Thane's hands grasped her hips as though she were the only thing that could anchor him to reality and he moved against her in short shallow thrusts.

Fingernails bit into the scales of his back and shoulders as she pressed her center against him, enveloping him so deeply his head swam. Her voice was a thundering whisper above storm in his veins, "Thane, holy fuck I'm - ah - "

Entangled as they were, he felt her thighs tense astride him, her arms, fingers, and chest tightening like a vice as her climax ripped through her. He slipped his arms around her waist and held her, hips rising to meet hers in firm strokes as she clenched around him, beckoning him to follow her over the edge.

It took all his control to resist. Wanting to luxuriate just a little longer in the sweltering heat of their joining, he rose from the water, lifting her with arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Mmph, cold," she mewled as he pressed her against the wall, damp skin cooling on contact with the tiles.

"I've got you, Siha. Let me warm you." His voice was low and heavy with need. He sheathed himself within her and covered her with his body, capturing her lips in a kiss.

This close to release, his motions were frantic now. Thane held her suspended as her voice rose from soft moans to breathless gasps. Her voice urged him on, hips snapping into her fast and firm at an angle that made stars flash behind her closed eyes. She wound her arms around his shoulders, drawing him deeper, her fingers scrabbling for whatever purchase they could find in attempt to leverage herself and meet his pace. Her breath came in sharp cries, swearing and cussing, panting, calling his name - and he gave himself to her, feeling the cresting wave of his release bear down and sweep him under.

He stilled himself through the aftershocks, the world slowly coming back into focus around them: the water swirling around his legs, the heaving of her chest against him - their shared, labored panting as his pulse slowed to a normal rhythm. With a sigh, he released himself from her, setting her down on shaky legs in the roiling water beneath them.

Gently, she lowered herself back down into the bubbling warmth of the bath, leaning against the edge with her head pillowed on her arms.

Thane had meant to fetch towels for them to dry off but watching her bask bonelessly in the water made him reconsider. Sinking down beside her, he brushed aside the strands of hair stuck to her forehead and kissed her cheek.

They had nowhere else to be for the evening.

[axlsangel]

For Your Life

Slash x Reader

Concept by @metalheartofgold : Slash protects you at a party.

WARNING: Sexual Harrassment

A/N: The title is just a Led Zeppelin song, I don’t even know-

GN’R parties never interested you for the most part. A lot of times, you were dragged into the boys’ endeavors and always the one left looking after them, and when Hell House was abandoned, the alcohol, sex, and drugs paraded into your own apartment. You were living on your own, which made it quite unnerving for your neighbors to see someone who typically kept to themself be a part of such chaos. Oftentimes you had to explain that you were best friends with the band, but a part of you felt just as used as the strippers they dragged everywhere with them.

It wasn’t like they checked in on you often, let alone came to you for the sake of it. Instead, the only interactions involved them going to lunch with you only for you to pay for their meals, them coming over to raid your fridge, and of course, the parties— the worst of all of their shenanigans.

While you couldn’t stand waking up to smell of vomit emanating from your own floorboards and the humidity from all the sex circulating around the apartment, you also couldn’t stand all the women around. Although it was difficult to admit, you particularly despised having to wake up the guys the next morning when some slut is wrapped around their bodies, which happened all too often.

Along with that, simply being a part of the parties was beginning to become too much to bear, regarding all the men who tried talking to you. You tried to remain unseen, wallowing in the quieter corners of the apartment, or just spending most of your time sliding past anyone who even dared to glance at you just to prove you weren’t interested.

So now, lurking in corner with a cigarette clasped in your hand and music blaring in your ears, you watched as all the strangers danced and mingled around. Duff and Steven had already taken to the kitchen to battle out who can down the most amount of beers in record time, and Izzy was quick to smooth talk some gal into following him into the guest bedroom. Axl bitterly stormed down the hallway after a tense conversation on the phone, and you hadn’t seen him since.

Slash, on the other hand, was just as lost as you, yet he always knew how to handle things better, already chatting up a few folks and leaving you to your own personal despair. You always enjoyed hanging out with Slash the most out of all the guys, whether it be because he shared similar interests to you, or he was just the most easygoing guy you’ve ever known. He was a mediator compared to Steven who was too out of it most times, Axl who was too ill-tempered or just shy, Duff who slurred every sentence, and Izzy who was always spontaneously disappearing. Not to mention, he was unproblematic, which made you feel less guilty to be around him.

Though now, you were stuck clinging to the wall, alone and pervaded with self-pity.

“You come here alone?” A voice had boomed from your right ear and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you realized just how close the stranger had come to speak with you.

Uncouthly, you keep your head fixated before you rather than on him as it was the best way you knew how to show your impassiveness. But he wouldn’t let up.

“I’m talkin’ to you,” he started again, earning a sharp glare from you.

Instead of informing him that this was your own apartment, since you weren’t all for being stalked by any creeps, you opted to lie. “I’m not alone.”

“Then where’re your friends, pretty lady?” The liquor burning on his tongue left a rancid smell as his hot breath fanned over your cheek. You stepped back again, but you had already cornered yourself moments prior.

“They’re here,” you mumble. A part of you considered knocking erratically on the wall beside you and hoping that it would be either Izzy who could sense something wrong, or Axl who’d come out due to irritation only to discover your current situation. But the stranger was already honing in closer.

Amused, he looked around, quirking a brow at you. “I ‘on’t see none the em,” he croaked. Your entire body tensed as you felt his strong hand on your waist, goosebumps arousing along your skin in blatant malaise. “Why ‘on’t you and I have some fun?”

“No,” you enunciate, repeating the word again as he’s already grabbing at your arm, pushing you in front of him towards the hall. You writhe against him, attempting to remove yourself from the situation, or bump against someone hard enough to recognize that you needed help. But everyone seemed enraptured in their own current situations. “Stop it!” You hiss, shoving him off of you, yet he responds with a harsh slap to your face, shoving you further down the hall.

Tears sting your eyes just as badly as pain stings your cheek, and your own hallway seems foreign, as though the walls are caving in on you.

“Behave ���erself!” He spits at you, opening a door and tossing you into the room you recognize to be your very own bedroom. You yelp as he grips your hair, grabbing at his forearms and digging your nails into his skin, trying to shove him away as he curses and slurs at you.

“S-Stop!” You screech again, but he doesn’t let up, thrashing your body up against your own dresser, the wooden edge coursing against your stomach.

The music gets louder, and for a moment the light that emanates from the hallway seems like a hallucination until you recognize the door has opened again.

“What the fuck? Get off of her!” A voice so outraged orders that you almost fail to recognize it as Slash’s until his figure comes into view, grappling at the man, both of them collapsing to the ground, wrestling and grasping at one another.

Everything moves in a haze as you slide down to the ground, clutching your stomach in pain as you listen to the hoarse yelling coming from the other side of the room. Disgust overtakes you, the scent of the other man, the way his fingers felt on you, his spit— all of it makes you feel unclean as you succumb to tears.

You just barely catch the sight of him escaping the room quickly before you explode into a sob.

“Y/N....” Slash hastily approaches you, and you jolt back at his suddenness, prompting him to slow down. He looks at you carefully as he tosses his hat aside, moving his hair back to reveal his face, as though to reassure you of his identity. You whimper as you spot the pinpricks of blood dancing along the vermilion of his lips, along with the crumples in his shirt plausibly from where the man had grabbed at him from. “H-He’s gone, he’s gone, it’s okay,” he speaks, his voice softening to its common tone.

“I feel.. dirty,” you whisper, bitterly wiping away the tears pooling from your eyes.

Slash nods. “Let’s get out of here.”

~

Slash had taken you to his mom’s place, which was quite a few miles from your own apartment, though worth the tedious drive. You wanted to be as far away from that man as possible.

Ola retrieved a towel for you and reassured you to take as much time in the bathroom as you needed, which you did. It took a few minutes of standing beneath the shower head to gather your thoughts before you were able to move, hastily scrubbing at your skin, only easing up your actions when you crossed the loofa over your stomach, examining the abrasions along your skin left from where the edge of your dresser had impaled.

When you were done, you put on the clothes Slash offered you, a Zeppelin t-shirt that nearly swallowed your figure and a pair of his shorts that looked quirky on you, though you didn’t mind. You stepped out, witnessing him hunched over his bed, his knee bobbing restlessly.

“Slash?”

He looks up at you, and now in the new lighting, you can spot the tender mocha in his eyes and the bruising beginning to form along his cheekbones. “Y/N... Gosh, I’m so sorry, I-I wish I could’ve gotten there faster somehow—”

“H-How did you know?” You ask, sitting beside him.

“I went looking for Axl, and ended up finding you with that.. psycho. It happened...” He trails off, his eyes squeezing shut as he runs a hand through his hair.

“—so fast,” you finish, and he nods. “I didn’t get to say thank you.”

“You don’t have to, it was the right thing to do. Hell, things like that should never happen anyways.” He speaks softly, as though still careful to not startle you. A part of you wants to wrap your arms around him, to feel secure and safe, but another part of you wishes to seclude yourself from everyone and everything.

“If you didn’t find me—”

“We don’t have to think about that,” he interrupts hastily, his knee bobbing even faster, “because I did find you, and gosh, I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again...”

You brush your thumb along his cheekbone, scrutinizing the darkening bruise. He tilts his head to look at you just as you inquire, “How would you be so sure?”

“Because I care so much about you, okay? And I regret ever leaving you alone. I don’t want to ever do it again, Y/N.”

You look at him with furrowed brows, unable to quite discern whatever it was he was attempting to tell you as he hesitantly rests a hand on your cheek.

“I’m gonna protect you, forever and always,” he reassures, leaning in closer. For a moment, you’re frozen, startled, but inclined, and he stops moving. “Is it okay if I—”

You nod quickly, blushing at his nervous chuckle as his nose knocks against your own. With a foreign tenderness, he presses his lips to yours and every sensation that’d once overwhelmed you disappeared for just a moment as you focused on him only. His hand runs into your hair with fragility and you gather enough courage to glide your tongue into his mouth, leaving a chance for him to explore you in all the ways you’ve ever anticipated.

“Slash,” you whisper as you pull away, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I want to be yours...”

[argumate]

you're clearly often implicitly /aware/ that you're wrong about or at least don't know how to contest something, but you don't announce that this has happened: you just pivot to a new angle. it's not only a problem from the point of view of etiquette & granting your argupartner the satisfaction of being right; i think it's also part of the reason you often wind up talking past people who aren't used to your style, as they mistakenly assume you're still arguing for a point you've given up on.

I’ll have to try and catch myself in the act, but there are definitely differing conversational styles at play here, for example there is a kind of engineer dialogue that runs something like this:

Alice: so we use the index as a cache key to avoid recomputing the field--

Bob: what if it’s negative?

Alice: doesn’t matter, we’re treating it as unsigned and hashing it anyway.

Bob: are we vulnerable to collision attacks?

Alice: possibly, but the hash is reasonably secure and there are easier ways that a malicious user could arrange denial of service.

Bob: will cache memory usage be a problem for large requests?

Alice: I don’t think so, we clear the cache after each session, but we could always cap it at some maximum just in case.

Bob: okay then what happens?

there are several ways to read this as a positive exchange even as Bob aggressively hunts around for edge cases and weaknesses: they are helping Alice by checking for potential issues while prompting them during a walkthrough to help explain the design to others, they are trying to understand the design themselves as efficiently as possible by zeroing in on the parts that they don’t understand or that seem the most suspicious, and they are displaying a lot of attention and engagement with what Alice is saying.

however you can also read this as Bob attempting to humiliate or discomfit Alice by raising a flurry of pointless questions instead of trusting that Alice has already handled these issues, or perhaps Bob is trying to show off to the audience and demonstrate superior ability by trying to catch Alice out in a mistake, or maybe Bob is being abrasive and rude by not softening their speech: “I’m struggling to understand this aspect of the design, would you be able to tell me what happens if the blah blah? Oh I see! Thank you, that makes sense to me now, forgive me for interrupting, please continue,” etc.

and of course any of these interpretations could be true! you would need to know more about Alice and Bob and their personalities and preferred interaction styles and previous history and work environment in order to judge the emotional undercurrents of this dialogue, but it’s easy to see how misunderstandings can happen and people can end up thinking of each other as jerks (”they keep trolling me!” / ”I’m only trying to help!”).

social media amplifies this difficulty by stripping out a lot of shared history and context and tone and body language and putting the whole thing in a blender and then the conversation takes place in front of an audience of enraged baboons who tag team both participants, so it’s unsurprising that there are hurt feelings and missed connections.

none of which is meant to excuse deliberately being a jerk of course, it’s just that sometimes the solution for incompatible communication styles is to find other people with more compatible communication styles.

[snusbandxknifewife]

Could you do a oneshot where Vivi forces Jude and Taryn to wear revealing outfits and Madoc decides he’s joining them. This is an after QON Headcanon. Of an overprotective daddy Madoc giving dead glares to anyone to anyone who approaches his twin daughters

I know it’s been a few days but I promise I didn’t forget! Also imma just warn you here and now this is CURSED. (Also I just realized you said headcanon. I wrote it as a fic I hope that’s ok)

~~~~~

Daddy Daughter Dance

Three years of exile and the unwavering support of his wife had hardly softened Madoc to the mortal world. He found mortals to be dirty and unstable, far too lowly to interact with his family.

Vivienne Duarte thought it was absolutely hilarious and, while she might not always agree with what her sister does, she thought that banishing Madoc had been some of Jude finest work. She couldn’t have thought of a better way to pull the rug out from under her faerie father’s feet, and it filled her with pride at how masterfully her sister had dealt with dear old dad.

Still, having her father perpetually around was starting to annoy Vivi. He got bored and decided that the best thing to do would always be to go knocking on his eldest daughter’s door, asking her what was up and how she was doing. She was starting to go insane, and she desperately needed an out.

Then, as she was sitting at the dinner table during one of Madoc’s forced family meals, when Taryn longingly mentioned wanting a night off from the baby, she had a spark of an idea.

Taryn had showed up with Ghost and her toddler, a darling little girl named Ellanora. Jude had finally relented and agreed to come along for supper, Cardan naturally right behind her. Heather was being her absurdly supportive self, Oak had finally reached the point of his life where he was prone to teenage mood swings and he was hiding in his room, Oriana looked like she was fraying at the edges.

“Ladies,” she brightly began, her wicked smile spreading from ear to ear, “I believe it has been far too long since we had a night out on the town!”

“We’ve never had a night out on the town,” Jude pointed out, a brow raised at the ton her sister was taking.

“Then surely it’s been too long!” Vivi shot back, standing up from her chair so quickly that it shot out behind her and slammed into the wall. “Come now, Jude. You know that you and Taryn won’t be able to visit forever! Why not take a night off and celebrate the joys of the mortal world with your loving family?”

Heather hid her laughter by taking a sip of her water. She’d seen this look on Vivi’s face before and she just knew that chaos was waiting in the wings.

Taryn, bouncing her child on her leg, looked over to Ghost. They’d married about six months prior and they were still in the lovey-dovey-heart-eyed stage of love. “I would love to, Vivienne, but Ellanora needs to—“

“Surely Ellanora’s daddy can watch her? This is a girl’s night, after all,” she grinned. “No Cardan, Garret, Madoc, or Oak allowed!”

Jude scowled and Cardan pouted, Taryn blanched and Ghost quirked his head, Oriana pursed her lips and Madoc went thunderous.

Oh this was going to be perfect.

“I don’t think—“

“Oh Jude, come on! You and Taryn won’t be able to hang out with us forever, let loose tonight and have some fun! You already left Elfhame,” Heather swooped in and Vivi could get on one knee and propose right there.

Vivienne gave no chance for anyone else to complain, standing with a sense of finality and moving towards Oriana’s walk-in closet. Oriana was always dressed for a night out and she and Heather both looked bangin’, but Taryn was dressed like a tired mom and Jude was still wearing her practice leathers.

Heather must have been working magic back in the dining room, because by the time she’d picked out outfits for the twins, both were standing behind her. Taryn appeared to be bouncing with excitement, desperate for a night away from the baby. Jude looked perturbed, as she typically was when she was separated from Cardan.

Neither woman complained as they stripped and dressed. Taryn had always loved her fashion and Jude had really come into her own in the past few years, her husband’s doting doing wonders for her confidence.

Still, as they looked in the mirror in Oriana’s closet, Jude raised a brow at her older sister.

Taryn was wearing a high waisted skirt and low-cut shirt combo, heels stolen from Oriana making her calves look gorgeous and her ass pop. Jude was in a slinky dress, just barely hitting her thigh with the back falling open down her spine.

If Jude were a betting woman, she’d say Vivi was trying to make their father have a heart attack.

As they walked out of the closet and towards the front door, they ran into Heather and Oriana, both smiling knowingly. Just as they were about to leave, Madoc walked into the living room.

And his jaw hit the floor.

Of course he was used to the faerie brand of risqué clothing, but mortal clothes are a far cry different. They’re abrasive, choppy, far too high cut and low quality. What the fuck did Vivi think she was doing?

“Bye dad! We’re going to Bare Assets!”

Then the girls were out the door. Off to the closest night club they could get to. Bare Assets was a local strip club with both male and female strippers, a fantastic bar, and a separate dance floor that Vivi and Heather frequented when they wanted to act out.

“What’s Bare Assets?” Madoc screamed back into the dining room, scaring Ghost and Cardan—who had been cooing over Ellanora and trying to get her to eat her broccoli.

“The strip club where Jude and I had our joint bachelor and bachelorette party a few years back,” Cardan nonchalantly offered, almost immediately catching his slip up and clamping his mouth shut.

Unfortunately, Ghost, who was thoroughly distracted by his adopted daughter, didn’t catch the way Madoc’s eyebrow was twitching. “I remember that night! I got on the pole and some random stripper licked my nipples.”

“I don’t think you should say that in front of your kid—“ Cardan started.

“Nipples!” Ellanora, who had recently started imitating words she heard adults say, interrupted. Cardan hid his laughter with a cough; let Ghost explain to Taryn why his daughter was yelling about nipples.

Then, as the front door slammed shut, both men looked back up. Madoc was gone.

They shared a look and (wisely) decided to stay with Ellanora.

Vivi had been banking on Madoc following them, just like she’d been banking on him getting lost long enough to give them time to do a shot or two each. This was a woman who had nearly two decades put into annoying her father: she was an absolute expert.

They were dancing when she heard a scream by the front door and she started grinning like a madwoman. In the back, where the DJ was blasting dubstep and the dance floor was a living thing, she knew they had a few minutes left before Madoc would be able to fight his way through the strippers and past the bar.

Oriana was busy learning how to do the robot from Heather while Taryn and Jude jumped around to the best of the music. It made Vivi happy how the twins had reconciled over the past few years. It was nice seeing them get along in ways they never really had before.

When a hand clapped on her shoulder, she wasn’t surprised at all. She turned with a wicked grin and cane face-to-chest with her furious father. She was just about to say something snarky when her father bellowed, his voice vastly overpowering the music.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST PUT IN MY DAUGHTER’S DRINK?”

Vivi sounds around, her eyes catching on the plastic cup in Taryn’s hand that she’d previously missed. Just beyond the drink was a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, a small plastic bag held in his shaking hand.

Taryn looked down at her drink and realized this stranger had been trying to drug her and absolutely no one had noticed. The environment must’ve been too loud and unfamiliar for Jude to see, Oriana would’ve never noticed, Vivi was too far away.

Her lip curled in disgust and she threw the contents of her roofied drink all over her would-be drugger, grabbing her twin to keep her from gutting the bastard and moving over to where Madoc was fuming.

Vivi was shaking and Heather was trying to explain what just happened to a very confused Oriana. Jude was quickly checking all the exits and making mental notes of everyone’s face, the nightclub now a battleground.

“How dare you?” Madoc spin Vivienne back around as he roared. “How could you put your sisters at risk? You know how dangerous it is for them!”

Vivienne hadn’t even thought, she’d been so busy trying to irk her father that she hadn’t even considered Jude and Taryn weren’t raised here, they wouldn’t know to cover their drinks. The mortal world would be just as dangerous for them, only in different ways.

Madoc went to scream some more at his eldest daughter, but Taryn stopped him with a gentle hand to his wrist. She was always the best at getting him to smile and calm down.

“It’s okay, dad. We’re safe, it wasn’t Vivi’s fault.”

She goes to say something else, but a bouncer works his way through the crowd before she can, thanking Madoc for his help and telling him they’d caught the man and kicked him out. When the bouncer offers to let Madoc drink on the house, Taryn pipes up and accepts for him.

“Taryn I don’t think—“

“Oh come on, dad! You can’t spend your whole life hating everything mortal,” she announced as she rolled her eyes. “Let us help acclimate you while we still can.”

“With you and Jude glowering at everyone, we won’t have to worry about anyone bothering us,” Oriana observes with a small smile as she walks over to her husband’s other side.

Before Madoc can say anything else, he has some terrible cocktail in his hand and he’s surrounded by all the women in his life as they do the robot. (Jude would’ve preferred to keep bouncing up and down, but Oriana was insistent.)

So Madoc spends the rest of the night drinking and eventually dancing in a den of mortals, watching over his daughters and glaring menacingly at anyone who even thinks about looking at them. Oriana started stealing his drinks and Heather and Vivi disappeared into the bathroom, Jude and Taryn watched in fascination as a stripper insisted on teaching Madoc to twerk, and none of them had to worry about checking their drinks again.

~~~~~~

Am I sorry about writing a fic where Madoc twerks? Yes. Also I specified the strip club because ya bitch is writing a bachelor/bachelorette party fic at the strip club and yes Ghost gets his nipples licked by a stripper I’m also sorry about that one.

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @sweetlyvillainous @clouds-and-peonies @clockworkgraystairs

[theazkapack]

Intruders

Part 1 | Part 2

After weeks of tension, the pack finally meets the responsables that have been hiding away in their territory, when Ashlen and Shivo decide to patrol the borders of their territory.

Glawn paces around the den, ignoring the pointed look that Lannel throws at her. 

She feels nervous, looking up almost every second in hopes that Ashlen and Shivo would appear in the path, the dark wolf throwing her a smile and telling her that nothing had been spotted today. Ashlen had been particularly stressed by the fact that some strangers were living in their territory, and while not as stressed, Glawn felt the same in some way, on edge all the time as she scouted or helped with the hunts.

It was difficult not to, the knowledge that there were strangers that believed themselves strong enough to simply waltz into their territory without a care, and could be anywhere, waiting for the perfect moment to ambush them? Yeah, absolutely not a good thing. Should they go find them? It was still day, but she knew that very quickly it could become night, the dusk barely a speck of time that always catches her off guard.

“Glawn, sit down, you’re gonna leave a trail in the dirt” Lannel complained, probably annoyed from watching her pace nervously. “They are gonna come back soon, don’t stress about it.”

“Oh, I know, but what if something happened?” Glawn said, her eyes fixed onto the trail where the others would come back, “What if they found the other wolves or, or some bear attacked them?”

“They will be fine, Glawn, Lead was capable of defending themself against a bear alone, they are more than capable of fencing off a bear with my brother.” 

“But it’s late, Lannel, and you know Ashlen doesn’t like staying outside when it is so close to night time,” Glawn whined, refusing to look elsewhere and missing the look Lannel threw at her.

They stayed in silence for a few more minutes, Lannel simply closing his eyes and enjoying the peace while Glawn looked and hoped for Ashlen and Shivo to come back. She sighed, and continued to wait, managing to stay down for a few minutes before getting up and continuing to pace around the den, feeling too anxious to stop moving. This continued on similarly for some time, ignoring the annoyed looks her packmate threw at her once again, when the other, finally annoyed, stood up and sighed.

“Alright, okay, let’s go find them,” Lannel said, annoyed, “I bet they just took some time looking at a river, or something.” 

Glawn nodded, and silently thanked the other for putting up with her, as she started to sniff around, following the old tracks the others had left behind. They walked in silence, following closely behind the tracks, trying to ignore the unease slowly filling them up. If asked, they wouldn’t be able to say exactly what caused it, simply on edge and uneasy as they progressed more and more into the deep of the territory, until they started to find more recent tracks.

Glawn paused, unsure, as she looked at the path. Something wasn’t right, but what? She looked around, trying to hear, but everything was silent. Silent.... Glawn looked up, perplexed, where were the birds? It was not normal for the animals to not be around the forest, normally singing up a racket everytime she or anyone of the pack passed by. Then, she heard it, in the distance, so low she could have missed it if she had not been paying attention. Barking was ahead, and she straightened up, fur instantly bristling, Lannel following suit once he also heard the noise.

They approached, making sure to not make any noise, until they could clearly hear Shivo’s voice, as he barked and growled at someone. Lannel tensed, and after sharing a brief look with her, they jumped forward, Glawn barely hiding her shock as she entered the clearing where the rest of her pack was. Shivo was injured, bleeding profusely from his face, standing close to Ashlen, who looked like a breath away from collapsing.

“Guys!” Shivo exclaimed, relieved at their arrival, “Oh, how glad I’m that you found us!”

Lannel nodded, briskly, and stood next to him, clearly shaken from how injured his brother seemed. Glawn took her time, checking Ashlen over, who scoffed and simply nudged her forward, hoping she could help them deal with the strangers. Shivo was.... Abrasive, to say the least, and not the best negotiator, so Glawn wasn’t that surprised that they had ended up fighting. And Ashlen didn’t know how to communicate with anyone, apparently, as she watched the other wolf look at her with hopes of resolving the problem. She straightened and stood up to the front.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, ignoring the shocked looks the wolves threw at her, “This is our territory, and we do not appreciate intruders here, specially, intruders who have been living here for weeks without showing any face.”

She took the time to examine the strangers, noting how similar to her own coloring they were, the three wolves in different hues of golden fur. They looked familiar, but she couldn’t pinpoint the why.

“Glawn?!” The oldest exclaimed, stepping forward and easily ignoring the warning growls her pack gave her, “You’re alive!”

She paused, unsure on how to proceed, and looked confused back at Ashlen. She… Who were these wolves? Likely sensing her confusion the wolf called her over, ignoring the guarded looks Ashlen threw her.

“It’s me, Honsu!”

Honsu? But…

Oooh,she thought internally, That’s why they are familiar.

“We thought you died! You got separated from the group in that storm and no matter what, we couldn’t find you!” Honsu exclaimed, the she-wolf looking happy at her, “Is there anyone else with you? Any of our siblings?”

“Uh, no, sorry” Glawn said, awkwardly, “Only me.”

“Oh,” Honsu deflated, looking sad before shaking it off, “No matter, I’m so glad you are okay!”

“Glawn… Who are they?” Ashlen asked, looking confused at the exchange, voice rough and with a lisp as they tried to emulate as closely as possible the words to the local dialect, and failing horribly once again.

“Oh, um. These are my siblings” Glawn said, ignoring the shocked look both Lannel and Shivo threw her, “This is Honsu, and the other two behind are Clower and Aursa.”

Honsu scoffed at the looks they threw at her, and nudged Glawn, full out ignoring how tense her sister was.

“Well, let’s get going then. We have so much to tell you.”

“What?” Glawn asked, nervously.

“Well, these guys have a problem with us being here, so let’s go. You know this place, right? You must know very good places to stay!” Honsu exclaimed, throwing a despective look at her pack, “These mutts must be bad company, come on.”

“I—Honsu, I can’t leave!” Glawn said, almost horrified and irked at the way she had referred to the others, “You can’t just, just slide in and tell me what to do!”

“Why not? I’m the oldest” Honsu huffed, offended, “And they have a problem with us, so we have to leave.”

“I—” She hesitated, “It’s going to be winter soon, we could die out there without shelter!”

“We’ll make do,” Her sister said, “We surely will find something, me and Clower need to find a good place anyways.” 

Glawn blinked, and looked closely at her sister, noticing how more rounded she looked, despite the almost skeleton way her fur clung to her body, and how Clower looked to the side, embarrassed, looking the same way as her sister.

“You’re pregnant!” She exclaimed, surprised, “I—We—No! We have to stay!”

She turned around, ignoring the protest of her sister.

“Ashlen, surely they can stay, right? My siblings are pregnant, can they stay for the winter, please?” She almost begged, “Please?”

“...Sure?” Ashlen said, shrugging, “It’s your family, and I know how much you miss them, of course they can stay with us for a while.”

“Guys?” She turned to look at Lannel and Shivo, who both shrugged, clearly confused, and she took that as an agreement.

“Glawn we will not stay with them!” Her sister demanded, ignoring the wary looks the rest of her siblings threw at her.

“Oh, please? You’re pregnant, and so is Clower! You need to rest, to eat, you look exhausted!”

“Glawn, no!” Honsu said.

“Honsu, we’re exhausted. And you cannot afford to stay outside,” Clower muttered, their voice low yet stern, “We should accept their offer, we are barely surviving as it is.”

Honsu’s face softened, as she looked at her sibling, and nodded, suddenly looking more tired than before.

“Yeah, okay. We'll stay.” She accepted, “Only for winter, but we’ll stay.”

Glawn nodded, and slowly started to guide her siblings back to her home, Ashlen trailing faithfully behind her.

Meanwhile, the brothers looked at each other in confusion at the resolution of the events, both having been prepared to continue fighting or simply leaving but not to the strangers that had been living in their territory to simply be invited into their home, no questions asked.

“Did you know she had sisters?” Lannel whisper yelled at Shivo, who shrugged confused, “What in the name of the Moon is this?”

“Dunno, Lan, dunno” Shivo said, before nudging his brother, “Come on, let’s just get back home. My legs are killing me.”

[impossible-rat-babies]

27 to 42 and then 48 for rabbit !!!

oooo gonna go mostly below the cut bc this got long rip

27. what’s their family like? who’s in it? what’s their relationship with them?

rabbit had their biological family for a long while, but then something(?) happened to them at which point they were put into the system. they were adopted by a new family at some point, but something also happened to them and they’ve been mostly on their own/working since then.

they loved both sets of their parents very much and had a good relationship with them. they were very attached to both of their mothers. it’s hard to think that they once had a kind and loving relationship with anyone, but what happened to their parents definitely damaged that part of them. it became easier to push ppl away.

28. are they literate? did they go to school? how long? what level?

yes rabbit can read and write! they completed high school but didn’t end up going to college. they didn’t want to, plus it was far too expensive for them.

29. what was childhood like?

they had a pretty good childhood! their parents cared for them and loved them a lot. they had issues with bullying when they were young (something that persisted into middle and high school). they were the sort of child that got labelled as well and truly “Weird.” Like kids were scared of them for no real reason beyond they were Weird and made them uncomfortable. 

But home was a safe place for them. their parents were their rock.

30. what was adolescence like?

it was decent, but about ~15 they started having a lot of rough health issues with breathing and their heart and ended up missing a lot of school. they ended up having to have a heart transplant and as such they have a rather long and large scar down the center of their chest. that got them held back from a year in high school.

they were still known as the weird kid and didn’t have many friends. in middle school they did beat a kid senseless and sent him to the hospital for it, so most people learned not to mess with them.

31. what’s their current main conflict?

being haunted by an body horror monster in the woods that wants to eat them, or at least kill them. or maybe make them suffer. oh and dealing with whatever the fuck being a greenwarden means.

oh and a bunch of other stuff having to do with possibly having murdered a lot of people. 

and solving a missing persons case.

32. what steps have they taken to overcome this conflict?

absolutely nothing besides getting lost in the woods and worrying bautista to death.

33. how have they changed over time?

they’ve grown colder, rougher and meaner. they’re just...horribly mean and abrasive so people don’t mess with them. they’re very cautistic and disagreeable for the purpose of being disagreeable. it would be called a blatant call for help if they weren’t such an ASS about taking the help.

For Fun

34. what’s their room look like right now?

it would be a hotel room and it’s mostly the same when they checked in. maybe a few personal items in the bathroom or on side table. but they keep most of their things in their duffle bag, even when staying at a hotel for a long period of time. they don’t “settle” in places.

35. what are they like as a friend?

when they aren’t being purposefully a dick, they’re insightful and perceptive. part of their love language is making sure people aren’t missing for things--Acts of service. they just don’t like people knowing they’re doing it. they give people their space and are a surprisingly good listener when in a good mood. they don’t give good advice, but they know it’s good to let someone vent. (no guarantees they’re paying attention though).

36. what are they like as a partner?

attentive, mindful, respectful, compassionate; the caustic edges of them soften out a lot and they’re much more vulnurable. more willing to ask for help. the thing is that there has to be a report going on between them and the person before any of that softness shows up. like bautista has seen glimpses of it, but as much as its gonna be a slowburn from their end, it’s gonna be the same with rabbit.

37. do they have any phobias?

maggots and certain insects make their skin crawl and they will get sick to their stomach. dark and enclosed spaces set off their fight response really badly.

38. did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

they went to the beaches along the pacific northwest growing up a lot, but they travel around for a living + no time for vacations anymore.

39. your character walks into a cafe. what do they order?

answered here!

40. what time do they go to bed, usually?

it depends on when they can get to sleep/when jobs are done. they can only really get six hours of sleep a night, so once they’re up, they’re up.

41. what’s their morning routine like?

crawl out of bed, check if anything has been disturbed in the night (they’re extremely paranoid), bathroom, brush teeth/wash face, check on any wounds and treat them. they’ll wait on this step if they need bautista’s help. otherwise they drink a few cups of instant coffee and a granola bar. they’re a lot of “no muss no fuss”

42. what’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

they do dumb things on the daily--it’s to be expected. the most recent on the list is staying out in the creepy woods with the creature that wants to eat them all night and not telling anyone about it. 

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

hmmm both of those are up in the air right now until we learn more about the trapper’s background. when their biological parents died is probably gonna be up there though on lowest points.

--

extremely detailed oc ask meme!

[myforeverforlife]

bookworm on the bleachers.

For an anon! Hogwarts!au (Ravenclaw Minseok and reader) + Meet messy + 14. “Okay, maybe I’m crazy but did I just hear you say that out loud?”

Masterlist

At Hogwarts, everyone seemed to belong in their houses. Each individual was perfectly matched to the house that the Sorting Hat placed them in, even if they didn’t agree with its choice at first. You, on the other hand, were absolutely, one hundred percent convinced that you were not cut out to be a Ravenclaw. Sure, you enjoyed searching for knowledge. Because of this, you also loved reading books — so much so that you often preferred to sit alone in the astronomy tower curled up with a good book instead of chatting with the rest of your housemates. But in terms of wisdom and intelligence, you always felt overshadowed by the rest of the Ravenclaws.

It wasn’t that you were dumb, necessarily. You just didn’t think that you were anything exceptional. It’s not like you were able to recite quotes from a plethora of books and philosophers like your younger friend Jongin, or to speak multiple languages like the adorable first-year named Renjun that everyone doted on. You were just, well, you. You preferred to observe and store whatever knowledge you collected, rather than outwardly display your talents. And that was fine with you, most of time.

But every once in a while, the old insecurities, the fear that you weren’t meant to be in Ravenclaw, in Hogwarts in general came creeping back to sit front and center in your thoughts.

Tonight, you sat curled up at the top of the astronomy tower, a faded woolen blanket wrapped around your shoulders. By your feet sat a book that you had been itching to read this past week, and a thermos of hot chocolate. Some of the magic-born students who didn’t have much exposure to Muggles didn’t understand why you chose to carry such a flimsy, Muggle invention when you could easily use one of Hogwarts’ magicked cups to keep your drinks warm. But having the thermos by your side reminded you of home, of your parents and siblings who were always proud of the fact that you were the only one with magic in the family. It was their everlasting support and love that got you through the worst of times at Hogwarts, when you were feeling alone and unworthy.

The sound of heavy footfalls against the tower stairs had you sitting up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders in your haste. You were prepared to be yelled at by Filch, or one of the professors for being up at the tower late at night. Luckily, you were met with Jongin’s tall, statuesque figure.

“What are you still doing up here?” he asked, pushing his bangs back from his face as he sat down on the floor beside you. “It’s almost 10.”

“I know, I just... I needed to think.”

“You’re always thinking,” Jongin teased.

When his joke was met with silence on your part, Jongin knew that whatever had you up here must be pretty serious. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked lowly, eyes widening in concern.

You shrugged, pulling your blanket over your head and tying it under your chin. “I’m just feeling a bit blue.”

Jongin reached up to pat your back, the touch warm and comforting. “I’m sorry. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Jongin nodded, having expected your response. Both of you sat in silence for a few second before he spoke up again. “Hey, why don’t you come watch the team practicing out on the Quidditch field?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah. They got permission for an extended curfew today so that they can get in enough practice before this weekend’s game.”

“But we’re not on the team, Jongin. We can’t be out past curfew.”

“Sure we can, Minseok will cover for us. He asked me if I wanted to come down and watch them tonight, I’m sure he’d be fine if you came too. Besides, he owes me anyway.”

You peeked at him from within your blanket cocoon, rolling your eyes when Jongin wiggled his eyebrows at you in anticipation. “Okay, fine. But if we get in trouble, I’m never gonna forgive you.”

“We won’t, I promise. We’re Ravenclaws too, so if anyone says anything, we can just say we’re the strategic planners behind the team,” he said confidently.

And that was how you let your best friend drag you down the tower and all the way out to the Quidditch fields in the dead of night, just to watch a group of people pass around a ball. Your blanket was still wrapped around you, both hands gripping tightly onto the edges and refusing to let any bit of the cold, dusk air touch you. Jongin held onto your book and thermos, a spring in his step as he whistled on the way to the field.

Even from far away, you could spot the tiny figures dressed in royal blue robes whizzing back and forth on their broomsticks as they yelled across the field to each other. Minseok, the team’s captain and one of their Chasers, watched the rest of his team with sharp eyes, tendrils of his red-brown hair being swept to the side by a soft gust of wind as another player flew past.

“Minseok!” Jongin yelled out to him as both of you came closer.

The captain glanced down, grinning once he caught sight of Jongin. “Hey, you made it!” He turned towards the rest of his team, dismissing them for a quick break before descending on his broomstick. He hopped off a few feet before reaching the ground, easily swooping the broomstick into his hand and standing it up beside him. “I’m glad you made it! And you brought Y/N too!” Minseok waved to you, smile growing larger.

You raised a hand shyly, impressed by his athletic prowess and the fact that he knew your name. “That’s me. Sorry, I hope we’re not interrupting your practice time.”

“Not at all! It’s always great to have fellow Ravenclaws here. I hope this one didn’t drag you out of bed for this though.” He nodded towards Jongin, an eyebrow cocked playfully.

“No, I was awake already.” You scanned your surroundings, entranced by the way the players weaved skillfully back and forth in the air above your head, passing the ball back and forth amidst spirals and dives through the sky. “You’re all so talented. No wonder the Gryffindor team hates us so much.”

Minseok let out a chuckle, his grin proud and yet surprisingly humble at the same time. “Thanks. We definitely practice a lot to get to this level though.” His eyes lit up with a new thought. “Hey, do you wanna go for a ride?”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself, eyeing Minseok’s broomstick worriedly. “I don’t know, I’m not the best at flying.”

“You’ll never get better if you don’t practice. That last time you got on a broom was in your first year,” Jongin cut in.

“Ah, I remember that.” Minseok’s face softened as he smiled sympathetically.

Your face began to heat up. God, great way to make yourself known to the most popular Ravenclaw in the school.

In your first year, you had been over the moon when you found out that you would learn how to fly on a broomstick. It was the only thing you could talk about for ages, and you counted down the days until your first lesson. When the day finally came and Madam Hooch had given your class the all-clear to kick off into the air, you had been giddy with enthusiasm to find that you immediately shot high up into the air. Your excitement quickly died down when you couldn’t control your broom, and you went crashing into the branches of a very unlucky tree. The next week was spent in the hospital, with Madam Pomfrey tending to your countless scratches and abrasions, as well as your broken wrist and bruised ribs.

Minseok had been one of the Ravenclaws to witness your humiliating descent, and had even come with some other students in your year to check up on you in the hospital. Your story made you rather famous for a while though, and even Jongin who was a couple years younger than you had heard all about the incident.

Despite countless efforts on Jongin’s part to get you to try again, you had refused to get on a broom since then. Even your siblings had begged you to try again, arguing that once you learned, you could teach them as well.  

“I’m sorry, I totally forgot about that,” Minseok spoke up, bringing you back down to Earth. “You don’t have to fly if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You glanced from Minseok, to the broom in his hand, and then back to Minseok again. He waited patiently, curious to see what you would do. For the first time, you were much too aware of how attractive he was, especially in his Quidditch uniform and with the moonlight shining down on him. In a burst of confidence, you shook your head. “No, you know what, I want to try.”

“You do?!” Jongin and Minseok exclaimed in unison.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jongin pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning when he couldn’t detect any trace of a fever. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you replied firmly. “You’re right, I do need practice. And where better than at a Quidditch field surrounded by a bunch of expert fliers, right?”

“Uh, sure?” Jongin watched uneasily as Minseok handed you his broom, the captain coaching you briefly on how to get going.

“If you get stuck or need help, don’t be afraid to ask one of us. Well, preferably someone up there,” he added with a tiny giggle at his own joke.

“Okay.” You got on, albeit with wobbly legs, and waited while Minseok called out to the rest of the team and told them that you’d be heading up to join them.

“Okay, Y/N. Whenever you’re ready.” Minseok stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited beside Jongin. Your best friend, on the other hand, was visibly nervous for you, chewing on his nails.

“You got this,” you whispered to yourself. “It’s like riding a bike, I think.” You just had to ignore the fact that you rode bikes regularly, while it had been 6 years since you had ridden a broom. Straightening up, you kicked off the ground and rose into the air. The broom rose steadily, and you could hear Minseok and Jongin cheering for you as you ascended. The rest of the Ravenclaw team joined in, all of them also painfully aware of your incident many years ago.

“Uh, I think this is good enough for me,” you said. Your hands had the handle of your broomstick caught in a death grip, palms growing sweatier with each passing second.

“Wait, now that you’re up here, we gotta teach you some tricks!” Doyoung, one of the Beaters, suggested.

“You know what, I’m really fine with just the basics.” Your broom began to wobble, your body shifting along with it. “Oh crap. Uh, okay... I’d really like to head back down now.”

Doyoung’s face fell, but he was quick to fly to your side and instruct you on how to fly back down smoothly. “And make sure that you pull the broom to a stop slowly. If you do it too fast, you’ll end up getting thrown off.”

“Stop slowly, got it.” You nudged your broom back down, hoping that it would take the hint and take you for an easy, calming ride. But of course, it had to go rushing off at the speed of light.

You screamed as the broom shot straight towards the ground, eyes shut tightly. Even with your shrieks of terror ringing in your ears, you could hear Minseok and Jongin yelling repeatedly to pull the broom up. You opened one eye, the other one still closed as you raised the broom slightly. Now instead of heading straight for the ground, you were level with the ground. Your sense of accomplishment was fleeting, however, once you noticed that you were flying straight towards Minseok.

Minseok grunted in pain as you collided with him, both of you tumbling to the grass in a heap. The broom floated along for a few yards before slowing down and halting altogether.

You pushed yourself up, spitting out blades of grass that had found their way into your mouth. “Oh my god, Minseok, I’m so sorry.”

Minseok stared up at the sky blankly, blinking rapidly before exploding into giggles.

Confused, and more than a little worried, you shook his shoulder. “Minseok? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re not hurt anywhere.”

His chuckles died down slowly, and you were taken aback when he wiped tears away from his eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You’re crying!”

“I’m crying because I’m laughing,” Minseok corrected, another fit of giggles taking over again.

At this point, Jongin and the rest of the team had come over, concern painted on all of their faces. “Are you guys okay?” Jongin asked, crouching down beside you.

“My head just hurts a little, but I’m more worried for Minseok.”

Minseok shook his head, still gasping from laughing so hard. “I’m fine, really. That was great flying, Y/N. You looked like a natural up there.”

“Okay, maybe I’m crazy but did I just hear you say that out loud? Like, I know we bumped heads pretty hard, but I didn’t think it was enough for me to start hallucinating.” You rubbed the spot on your forehead where you had collided with Minseok, hoping that it wasn’t too red.

Minseok broke into laughter, shaking his head as his eyes curved into half-moons. “No, I’m serious! I mean, your landing was a bit rough, but you did well up until then! Are you sure you haven’t flown since our first year?”

“I’m pretty sure. Shit, are you sure you’re okay though? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine,” he grinned. Spotting your skeptical expression, Minseok made an effort to look more serious. “Really, Y/N.”

You sighed. “That’s a relief.”

“You know, once you got some more practice, I’m sure you’d be a great Quidditch player. If we weren’t in our last year of school, I’d encourage you to try out next year.”

“Me?” Your voice shot up a few octaves. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m dead serious. You’re a fast learner, Y/N. I think you’d be great at Quidditch.”

“Hey guys, this is great and all, but maybe you should save the flirting for when we’re not out here on the field all injured,” Jongin interrupted.

You and Minseok both turned to him at the same time, Minseok gaping and at a loss for words while you glared at your friend. “Jongin!” you scolded him.

“What, it’s true! Come on, we gotta head back to put some ice on that injury.” Jongin helped you stand up while a couple of Minseok’s teammates helped their captain up. “She’ll see you tomorrow, Minseok!” Jongin called over his shoulder as he dragged you away.

“Okay! Good night, Y/N!” Minseok yelled back.

You glanced over your shoulder, a shy smile pulling at your lips once you caught sight of Minseok watching you fondly. He raised a hand to wave goodbye, and you mirrored it.

While your head might be aching and your the taste of grass might still linger in your mouth, at least you made the Ravenclaw captain laugh so hard that he cried tears of joy. Minseok’s praises rang in your ears, a fire lighting in your belly as you thought about how he had called you a fast learner.

Maybe you were meant to be a Ravenclaw after all.

A/N: the harry potter drabbles have been so much fun to write! honestly if I had more time I would definitely expand on these and try to do one for each member, but I would definitely do more drabbles in the same universe again! 

[totalvibration]

55 Albums Released in 2019 That Splash Oat Milk In My Earl Grey

This year felt like slo-mo, a holding pattern and a fast-forward button stumbling towards unknown ends. I spent the early months in paternal bliss and sleep deprivation, caring for my newborn daughter, then spent the rest of the year running to slow down… to make the most of small moments with my family, to juggle that thing every lifestyle magazine calls the work-life balance, to know when I need help and being willing to ask for it, to making priorities with loved ones. 

Also, after years of oolongs and a staunch no-milk-in-tea-except-milk-teas policy, I started putting honey and oat milk in my Earl Grey, an old tea standby that's felt warmly familiar in colder months. Similarly, I dug my heels into familiar-to-me gnarly metal, deep drone and abrasive punk this year, uninterested in poptimist takes on indie-rock. In an effort to maximize more time with new family and less with bulls***, I leaned hard into my Viking's Choice column at NPR Music (which went weekly!) to shout out underground debauchery and beauty to anyone who would listen. 

Below are 55 albums (and a few reissues and archival releases) that hit me in different ways over 2019. No ranking, just links out to Bandcamp where available. They come paired with emoji because that's a thing I do on Twitter. 

See also:

Viking's Choice: The Year In The Loud And The Weird (my annual year-end episode of All Songs Considered)

20 Punk Albums Released In 2019 That Flip Eggs, Pick Up Chains

20 Metal Albums Released In 2019 That Bluurgh Over Sick Riffs

A nine-hour playlist of 2019 jamz 

But first, some stray thoughts:

Ta-Nehisi Coates' still-ongoing Captain America run has been extremely rewarding. A beloved superhero comes to terms with the line between patriotism and nationalism as Coates underlines that American progress often comes from reluctance. 

Daniel Warren Johnson's Murder Falcon spoke to me not only as a metalhead who loves cartoonishly kick-ass violence, but also as a dude with a tender heart… that final issue still gets me in the feels. 

Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colours is secretly a trilogy of movies about the loving, painstaking process of creation, specifically music. I'd never seen any of them until paternity leave (and a sleeping baby) gave me hours to binge long-neglected to-watch lists. In 1993's Blue, in particular, a composition mirrors the grief of Juliette Binoche in an exquisite performance. 

Tiny Desk concerts I produced for NPR Music in 2019: American Football (with a children’s choir!), Thou, Erin Rae, Carly Rae Jepsen (sort of), Jimmy Eat World and Mount Eerie (videos coming in 2020). 

There’s a gallery at Glenstone, a truly stunning museum experience, that’s literally just a room full of books, a sculpted wooden bench and a large window that looks out on the rolling hills of Maryland. I could spend hours there. 

The second season of KCRW's Lost Notes, hosted by Jessica Hopper, built episodes like albums, sequenced with eureka moments throughout. See: the story of a teenage Farsi New Wave sibling duo and a difficult and necessary reassessment of John Fahey through the women in his life.  

High Spirits (May 7, Atlas Brew Works) is such a force for good. Heavy metal singalongs about love, friendship and positivity. I feel like this band needs to tour with Sheer Mag to be fully appreciated by an unknowing audience. 

Has your baseball team ever won the pennant with the sleeping baby on your chest? So many silent screams of joy in our household as the Nats not only won the National League, but the whole dang World Series. I haven't lived in a city/state with a baseball team that's gone to the World Series since 1995. 

Circuit Des Yeux's Haley Fohr (Dec. 5, Hirshhorn) tuned her voice to feedback hum and the rest that followed felt like a wordless eulogy for 2019. I felt renewed by it. 

I can't think of a prettier song released in 2019 than "This Time Around" by Jessica Pratt. It is saudade whispered into the wind.

This was my Linda Ronstadt year. Heart Like a Wheel, Canciones de mi Padre, her records with the Stone Poneys — the Queen of LA, with a voice that both bursts out of and melts into dusk, softened the edges of long days with an equally adventurous and easygoing spirit.

🚙 Petrol Girls, Cut & Stitch: In 2019, it was crucial — life-affirming and -saving, even — to make your own noise. "This is the sound / It moves in our bodies / It passes through time / Brings what came before us," Petrol Girls' Ren Aldridge screamed at the top of a turbulent punk record filled with compassion. That boundless philosophy resonated with me this year — to listen and absorb more deeply, to excavate the traces of memory in music.

👽 Blood Incantation, Hidden History of the Human Race: Simultaneously exists in the gaping maw of death-metal tradition and the galaxy brain of its future. 

💾 Kali Malone, The Sacrificial Code: Seeks the solemnity of the drone in the pipe organ, but leans into the vulnerability pushed through the air.

🕹️ billy woods & Kenny Segal, Hiding Places:  An album-length self-excavation that crawls through moldy memories in a brutal poetry that is at times darkly funny but mostly wrestles with personal and societal truths that'll leave you touched, shook. 

📟 Holly Herndon, PROTO: One of our deepest thinkers went to the past to make music from the future. 

🚨 Rakta, Falha Comum: Creepazoid emanations from a subterranean plane.

🐣 Sunwatchers, Illegal Moves: Ecstatic protest music summoning the beauty and rage of Alice Coltrane, Sonny Sharrock, Rhys Chatham and Hawkwind. 

🏞 Bill Orcutt, Odds Against Tomorrow: The most engaging, radical, but surprisingly accessible solo guitar album of the year. Bill Orcutt's ragged-yet-tender guitar skronk gives shaggy texture to rapturous melodies.

🍕 Control Top, Covert Contracts: This hits some dance-punky Erase Errata sweet spots for me, but with the technical finesse of a power trio. 

🚟 Real Life Rock & Roll Band, Hollerin' the Spirit: Applies minimalist techniques to rumbling, dueling guitar histrionics with a reckless, but locked-in energy. Never woulda thunk American Football and Henry Flynt could hoedown together. 

🐠 Caroline Shaw & Attacca Quartet, Orange: Balances austere beauty with rumbling earth. Riveting music for string quartet. 

💥 Mdou Moctor, Ilana (The Creator): Where ZZ Top bombast, Black Sabbath riffs and Tuareg trance rhythms swirl into an acid-rock stomp. 

👑 Vagabon, Vagabon: Goes so many places, yet always returns home. 

🎭 JPEGMAFIA, All My Heroes Are Cornballs: A neon-freaked feast blasted in slow mo and fast forward all at once.

🌆 Denzel Curry, ZUU: Dude's a metal rapper without a metal band, but if he ever started one, I'm down 100 percent. 

💨 Whistling Arrow, Whistling Arrow: An avant UK supergroup of prepared guitar, violin, electronics and hypnotic percussion drinks deep of dark lagers and mossy earth.

🐸 101 Notes on Jazz: Things are getting hard around the boloney hole...

🐳 M. Sage, Catch a Blessing: Warm, fuzzy world-building from blocks of sound stretched and warped into a new nostalgia.

🚇 Mizmor, Cairn: Deliberate and patient in its annihilating pace; lumbering, yet regally melodic riffs echo into a chasm of feedback.

🌅 Takafumi Matsubara, Strange, Beautiful And Fast: Next-level grind from the Gridlink mastermind and friends. While No One Knows What the Dead Think picked up where Discordance Axis left off, Takafumi Matsubara shreds into the future.

🐎 American Football, LP3: A reunion that keeps on giving and growing. Impressionistic in its quietly bursting arrangements and attuned to the individual talents of its vocal guests, especially that stunning duet with Hayley Williams. 

🔋 v/a, Seitō: In the Beginning, Woman Was the Sun: This compilation does for modern Japanese women in experimental music what P.S.F.’s Tokyo Flashback comps did for the Japanese psychedelic scenes of yore. 

👗 Carly Rae Jepsen, Dedicated: Didn't hold together as much as I wanted, or play like E•MO•TION's late-night mixtape, but every time one of its singles popped up on a friend's playlist -- "Julien," "Want You in My Room," "The Sound" and especially the slow-burn synth-pop exhaustion of "Too Much" -- I'd think, "Carly Rae Jepsen is the Queen of the Song I Needed Right Now."

🌕 Rong, wormhat: Just bonkers. Boston's Rong channels the joyous chaos of Japanese punks Melt-Banana and the aggro skronk of Brainiac with a tad of Deerhoof's weirdo-pop hooks.

✊🏿 Sounds of Liberation, Sounds of Liberation / Unreleased Columbia University 1973: Free jazz and funk band deep in spiritual grooves. Killer performances all around, but such a trip to hear more from young vibraphonist Khan Jamal during his Drum Dance to the Motherland era. 

🐬 Great Grandpa, Four of Arrows: If Sixpence None the Richer made an emo record, but only had Return of the Frog Queen on the mood board. 

📳 Sarah Louise, Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars: One of my favorite guitarists right now. Digitally processes melodies and single notes in an electronic elation landing somewhere between Robert Fripp, Alice Coltrane and Terry Riley.

📮 Sarah Hennies, Reservoir 1: An immersive sound cycle in constant motion, a quiet rumble that slowly transforms in and out of a glorious clatter. 

👣 Psychedelic Speed Freaks, Psychedelic Speed Freaks: Munehiro Narita essentially picks up where High Rise left off, still plays the guitar like it's about to blow up. 

🍩 Town Portal, Of Violence: Most instrumental post/prog-rock puts me to sleep, but this Danish trio illustrates just how dynamic and sound-rich this music can be. 

🛀 Jim O'Rourke, steamroom 45: An electronic excavation from the deep abyss. The 37-minute "Sigaretstraat" is a master class in patience, dynamics and sublime dissonance.

🎀 Cristina Quesada, I Think I Heard a Rumor: Multi-lingual, ultra-chic dance-pop with super-smart synth arrangements. Think: Tiki drinks and mod dresses. 

⏹ John Luther Adams, Become Desert: Truly time-less music; as in, music without time. 

⏏ Julia Reidy, brace, brace: Late night, longform excursions that offer an alternate Blade Runner soundtrack with frenzied 12-string, fuzzy synth glossolalia and an Auto-Tuned bummer haze.

🚞 A Million Dollars, I Love Your Voice and I Love You: Weird and warped twee-pop that woulda headlined Silent Barn. 

📠 Priests, The Seduction of Kansas: Truth-telling and truth-seeking through a mangled disco haze and bleak New Wave romanticism. 

🏭 Werner Durand with Amelia Cuni and Victor Meertens, processions: Majestic drones capture an undulating wonder with enveloping somnolence.

🎳 Sheer Mag, A Distant Call: The denim-and-leather-jacket-wearing standard bearers of truly independent rock and roll double-downed on their sound, but opened their hearts a bit more. 

📒 Susan Alcorn / Joe McPhee / Ken Vandermark, Invitation to a Dream: Illuminates the flickering motions of exploration. 

😱 Serpent Column, Mirror in Darkness: Pitch-black metal chaos with forceful melodies twisted into the tableau. Honestly? Deathspell Omega but skramz.

🏅 Pernice Brothers, Spread the Feeling: Joe Pernice digs into his '80s record collection to return with some of his most delicately written, winsome guitar-pop in years and tons of one-liners: "Love is a shoeless charlatan, a silver-tongued huckster with a sadist’s lipless grin."

🍓 Kalie Schorr, Open Book: Whip-smart, hook-twanged country-pop raised on MTV2 pop-punk and Sheryl Crow. 

📀 Angel Olsen, All Mirrors: In a year where we lost Scott Walker, this felt like a torch passed from 1969. 

😪 Mount Eerie, Lost Wisdom pt. 2: Phil Elverum draws us in evermore, revisiting a beloved album, mode and collaborator (the remarkable Julie Doiron), and molding them into his ever-changing songwriting and circumstance. Contains the most tender couplet of the year, which I'll carry with me always: "If ever the bonfire that I carry around could warm you again / I will be out here in the weather for you glowing."

🙉 75 Dollar Bill, I Was Real: Serious hypno-grooves from these drone excavators. 

👢 Karen Marks, Cold Cafe: The early '80s artist behind the Sky Girl comp's broodiest track gets a few more songs of existential synth-pop and jangly post-punk. Just wanna put them on mixtapes for friends. 

🍻 Haunt, If Icarus Could Fly: Synthesizes an earnest, studied love for '80s heavy metal with tons of guitar harmonies and can-crushing anthems, yes, but also a ton of heart.

🍖 Bob Dylan, The Rolling Thunder Revue: The strangest, most mystical and wild Dylan persona in all of its face-painted glory. 

🌹 A Pregnant Light, Broken Play: Damian Master's endless creativity and shameless bravado coalesce into a rugged beauty. As always, riffs for days. 

🦄 Fire-Toolz, Field Whispers (Into the Crystal Palace): Clashes New Age synthscapes, clubby raves, jazz fusion and metal shrieks into an idiosyncratic master's pure creation.

🌇 Maria W Horn, Epistasis: Quiet, yet forceful acoustic elements are wrapped in the sinews of technology to blur composition. A stirring mix of icy string drones and minimalist piano. 

🐲 Soul Glo, The N**** in Me Is Me: Distills the rage and terror of living in America while being black with blunt force.

🍢 Mára, Here Behold Your Own: Snapshots of a time before parenthood rendered in garbled organ, ambient guitar loops and echoing lullabies. Felt this one deeply. 

🚙 The Go-Betweens, G Stands for Go-Betweens: The Go-Betweens Anthology - Volume 2: There's a live KCRW version of "Quiet Heart" that just absolutely destroys me. Deeply thankful for the presentation and preservation that's gone into these box sets. 

😈 Bat for Lashes, Lost Girls: A coming-of-age concept album about a teenage vampire gang that was somehow severely overlooked. Some of Natasha's most tender songwriting and a rich synth-pop world that'd make M83 jealous.

[wonderfulhousecleaning]

How to Clean a Glass Top Stove [Guide]

Smooth glass top stoves have a fantastic modern look that will give your kitchen a classy and minimalist look. These stoves offer more convenience because you don’t have to clean or switch burner grates or drip pans.

However, you’ll realize that even the tiniest splatter or spill on the stove shows up and is noticeable when you’re using them. Wiping the stove after use helps, but it’s not always practical when you also have to look after your kids and handle other duties.

This article will teach you how to clean a glass top stove without scratching it.

The Glass Stove Top Cleaning Basics

Before you kick off your mission to remove all stubborn stains from your glass stovetop, consider the following tips:

Clean while it is cool – Give your stove’s surfaces some time to cool you start cleaning.

Use just enough glass stove top cleaners – You don’t need to use all your housekeeping artillery when cleaning your stove. Remember, some of the chemicals you use may not be safe for kitchen appliances or utensils. Some traces of the chemicals might remain on the surface and burn you while you are cooking. Furthermore, abrasive and harsh cleaners can damage your stove top. The best glass stove top cleaner to use are natural products such as vinegar.

Follow your manufacturer’s instructions – Most stoves come with clear instructions on how you to clean them. Some may have specific cleaning products that you are supposed to use. Check for these instructions to avoid violating the warranty terms.

Use gentle tools – Although glass stove tops are resilient, using scouring pads and scrub brushes will leave scratches. Use only soft materials such as sponges and microfiber cloths. Razor blades are an exception to this rule, as explained below.

Daily Maintenance Glass Top Stoves

Cleaning your glass stovetop right after using it is a good idea to reduce the buildup of residue and dust.

Follow the steps below to clean your glass top stove like a pro:

Let the stove cool

Stray the surfaces with water or white vinegar

Use a sponge or microfiber cloth to wipe liquid away

Clean any streaks with a clean, dry cloth

Cleaning the Gross Glass Top Stoves

If you are cleaning your glass top stove every two weeks or monthly, you will need to do more than just wiping it with vinegar and cloth. You will need:

A clean towel

Baking soda

A spray bottle containing distilled white vinegar

Microfiber cloths

A bucket filled with hot water or clean sink basin

Once you have the above products, follow this procedure:

Wait until the stovetop is cool, then spray the surface generously with vinegar.

Sprinkle baking soda over the vinegar you just sprayed. Baking soda is a great natural glass stove top cleaner because it is a mild alkali, which helps to break down dirt more easily. Its mild abrasive quality also makes scrubbing easier without scratching the glass.

Fill a bowl with hot water.

Dip your towel in and wring it out.

Place the washing towel on the vinegar and baking soda.

Leave the towel to sit for about 15 minutes.

Remove the towel and use a microfiber cloth to clean the stove. Scrub until there is no baking soda left on the surface.

Spray the surface with vinegar again and clean using the microfiber cloth until all streaks are out.

Repeat the steps above until you are certain the stovetop is free of dirt and residue.

Cleaning Glass Top Stove with a Razor Blade

You could use a razor blade to clean your glass top stove. This method is especially useful when you want to eliminate the inevitable burnt-on rings that appear around the burners. It can also clean the stubborn epoxy-like gunk that doesn’t disappear easily.

Before you start cleaning your glass top stove using a razor blade, be sure to check your manufacturer’s instructions. If their manual doesn’t allow you to clean using a razor blade, please look for an alternative method.

You’ll require a razor blade in a holder or scraper tool. You’ll also need a microfiber cloth and distilled white vinegar in a spray bottle.

Here is a guide on how to clean a glass top stove using these products:

Be certain that the surface is cool.

Spray any stubborn stains and dirty areas with vinegar to soften the residue.

Scrape the burned on crud off gently with the razor. It’s important to make sure you hold the razor properly. Please do not use the corners of the blade to avoid scratching your stovetop. Instead, hold the cutting edge at an acute angle from the top of the stove. Ensure the razor is as flat as possible.

Work on one spot at a time and move the razor with even motion. Scrape with the razor lightly until the entire residue comes free.

Clear off the residue using a clean microfiber cloth.

Repeat the above steps until you have removed all the stains on the surface.

Finish the process with one polish using vinegar, and a wet cloth then use a dry cloth to make it shine.

Final Thoughts

Learning how to clean a glass stovetop is an easy but essential process. Make sure you follow the steps above to avoid damaging the surface, once you try these techniques, you’ll never go back to leaving your glass stovetop unclean again!

If you are in the Sacramento, CA area and need help cleaning your glass stovetop? Give Wonderful House Cleaning a call today!

source https://wonderfulhousecleaning.com/how-to-clean-a-glass-top-stove/

[rawresparza]

i love your writing! if you're taking prompts or whenever you are and you see this, anything about rafael and liv's relationship i'd be super down for. i feel like a lot of fic doesn't appreciate the really special friendship they have. bonus points if its about liv teasing raf about sonny.

Slowwwwly but surely making my way through the ever aging prompts in my inbox! I hope this is okay, anon, I really do enjoy exploring the friendship between Liv and Rafael so I quite liked writing this. I hope it comes across well enough!

–

Rushing to the hospital is never on anyone’s list of preferred things to do but as Liv bursts through the doors of Mercy General, she feels particularly sick about it.

The call had come only twenty minutes ago and she’d made it here in record time. If anyone asks, she most definitely had not used her siren and now that she remembers she’s clutching her keys tightly enough that they’re digging into her palm, she’s not sure whether she’d even bothered to lock the doors. It doesn’t matter, she decides, not in the slightest.

Liv flashes her badge at the receptionist, nodding toward the doors that lead to the emergency room. “For Rafael Barba? I got a call.”

The receptionist–Sandy, her nametag reads–flashes a friendly smile but not before Liv catches a hint of a grimace. “Yes, of course, I was told you’d be coming. Multiple times. Right through there, he’s in Room Four.”

Liv thanks her but wastes no time making her way through the doors. Room Four, she thinks, dodging a swarm of doctors and nurses pushing a gurney in the hallway, that can’t be too bad. It means he hadn’t need to be rushed to surgery, right? Still, she’d heard the panic and fear over the phone, the words broke his back had resonated so deeply within her that she’d been shaking by the time she’d hung up and all the way here, Liv hadn’t been able to keep herself from going over the worst case scenarios.

She approaches Room Four taking a deep breath then raps on the door, pausing to allow herself just a second to maintain some sense of composure before pushing the door open. What she sees is not what she expects.

“Back off, I’m serious!”

Rafael is sitting up in a bed, his hospital gown tied loosely around his neck, and batting at Carisi’s hovering hands.

“I’m trying to help, damn it! You heard what the doctor said, you need to take it easy.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t drink my own water, Sonny, for Christ’s sake.”

Liv arches a brow, letting the door shut behind her and clearing her throat. It gets their attention, both Carisi and Rafael fall silent as their heads snap up to look over at her. The corners of her mouth twitch as she holds back a smirk, even as the tension from the nerves that have been overwhelming her starts to drain from her shoulders. She sees now that Sonny is holding a small plastic water jug with a straw and the whole scene begins to make sense to her now.

“I see I broke several traffic laws to get here for nothing,” she teases, looking pointedly at a sheepish Carisi.  “How is he?”

“I’m fine,” Rafael grumbles, “you didn’t need to come.”

“He has a compression fracture in his spine,” Carisi says, shooting Rafael a stern look before returning his gaze to Liv. “So I wasn’t entirely off base when I said broken back.”

“A little misleading,” Liv tells him, but he only shrugs.

“Fracture’s a fracture. He’s got some scrapes, his hip’s pretty bruised. He says he didn’t hit his head and the doctor didn’t find any abrasions there so at least there’s that.”

“He’s right here,” Rafael chimes in, aggressively waving a hand before letting his head fall back against his pillow with a wince. He lets his eyes fall shut, a heavy, tired sigh escaping him. “Seriously, Liv, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Carisi argues, setting the water jug down. He takes Rafael’s hand, prompting Rafael to glance up at him with a softened expression. “I had to watch the love of my life get railed by a car. I watched you roll up on the hood and fall back down on the street like a rag doll. It’s a big deal, Rafael. “

Rafael seems to forget there’s anyone else in the room, bringing Carisi’s hand to his lips so he can press a kiss against his knuckles. “Okay, it was a big deal, you win. But I’ll be okay, I promise.” He offers a small but reassuring smile then looks Liv’s way again. “Hey, Sonny, why don’t you go grab Liv a cup of coffee? Get one for yourself, too. And me.”

“Nice try,” Carisi says flatly, freeing his hand and smoothing down Rafael’s messy hair. “Coffee does sound good, though. Lieu, can you make sure he doesn’t try to get out of bed or anything? He’s tried twice already, he’s an animal.”

“I’ll do my best,” Liv promises, watching with amusement as Carisi gives Rafael one final, lingering look then turns to leave. The door falls shut again and the room is left silent for a moment as Liv and Rafael avoid looking at each other.

She knows now that it isn’t too bad, she knows Rafael will be okay, she knows it could have been a lot worse; but that doesn’t make it any easier to see her friend like this, paler than usual and far more vulnerable than he’s ever been in front of her.

“So,” Liv starts, taking a couple steps closer to the bed. “Love of his life. That’s pretty heavy.”

Rafael hums, playing with a frayed thread on the edge of his blanket. “Well, I’d better be his. He’s mine.”

Right.

Liv doesn’t spend much time thinking about it but she does see it, the way Rafael looks at Carisi, the way they look at each other when they think nobody else is watching. They’re not overt in their public displays of affection, just a gentle touch here or a guiding hand there, but Carisi is allowed to handle Rafael in a way nobody else is.

She studies him while she has the chance, while he’s not fixing her with that gaze that always seems so intense no matter what they’re talking about, and she takes the final few steps to get to him, resting a hand on on his leg. Her touch prompts him to look up, his eyes wet and his lips starting to tremble, just slightly but she notices.

“He worries too much,” Rafael says but the words come out hoarse and neither of them is convinced for a second he minds it all that much.

“He loves you,” Liv states simply, “and you’re hurting. More than you’re letting on, I’m guessing. How bad is it?”

“Worse than when my dad broke my arm but at least it was less traumatic.”

He says it so casually that Liv struggles to find a reply but before she can say anything, Rafael groans, his brow creasing as he shifts stiffly, trying to find a more comfortable position.  Liv only squeezes his ankle through the sheets, helpless, useless, all she can do is make sure he remembers he’s not alone.

“They gave me what amounted to extra strength Tylenol, can you believe the audacity?”

Liv chuckles at that. “Maybe Carisi can strong-arm them into giving you something stronger to take home. Did they admit you?”

“No, just observation after the CT came back showing the fracture. And I think he’s secretly enjoying playing the knight in shining armor.”

“Indulge him,” Liv says, moving to take a seat in the chair beside the bed. She inches to the edge of the chair so she can loosely grasp Rafael’s hand, hoping the gesture will be as comforting for him as it is for her. He’s still here, he’s still breathing, that’s what matters. “Let him play nurse for the rest of the week. If he comes back to work pissy because you won’t let him fluff your pillows, we’re going to have words.”

“Oh, he’s not missing work. No way. I don’t even know if I’ll be missing work.”

The stubbornness is still intact, too. Good god. “You have a fracture in your spine,” Liv says, slowly, emphasizing every word just in case Rafael had missed that part.

“I’m actually aware of that, thank you. I’ve already been warned against too much bed rest.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be spending your time walking up and down the stairs of the courthouse the day after you’re hit by a car, Rafael, that’s unreasonable.”

“Did Sonny give you a script to read from before you came in here?”

“I don’t know how he stands you,” Liv says, rolling her eyes, though it’s mostly good-natured. There also exists a part of her that wants to give him a good smack for already intending to be so counterproductive to the healing process. “Anyway, I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath, Carisi will get you to stay home.”

Rafael squints, lifting his chin like he’s been challenged. “That so?”

“Mmhmm.” Liv smiles sweetly, too sweetly, it makes Rafael scoff. “You might give him hell for it but he can take it. He’s immune to all forms of your hostility at this point, you spent too much time pulling his pigtails before you admitted your feelings for him for Carisi to back down.”

“Suddenly you’re an expert on our relationship.”

“Just telling it how I see it,” Liv says, holding her free hand up in mock surrender. “It’s a good thing. I’m happy for you because I can see he makes you happy.”

They don’t talk about it much because while they are friends and have learned to read each other better than most, it’s still a little too close for comfort. Liv doesn’t have any deep desire to hear the more intimate details of one of her detectives’ love life and frankly, she doesn’t think Rafael is especially eager to share them. It’s worked for them so far, they can still share personal parts of their lives without risking Liv not being able to look Carisi in the eye.

In spite of that, it still feels important to say it now. She understands how hard it can be to find someone so accepting, so warm, so willing to love, and Carisi is all those things. If she’s completely honest, she sometimes finds herself with distant pangs of envy when she watches them, whether it be how harmoniously they seem to sync up over a case or how tenderly Carisi drapes an arm over Rafael’s shoulder on their way out of the precinct.

They’re in love, and they’re her family. They give her hope.

“Liv?” Rafael’s voice stirs her from her thoughts and she finds him studying her curiously, though there’s concern laced throughout his expression. “Are you okay?”

“You don’t get to ask me that,” she says, earning a dismissive flick of a wrist. “Just let him take care of you. Save me the grief of being on the receiving end of a string of complaints.”

“I’ll try,” Rafael concedes. “No promises.” A beat passes. “Liv?”

“Hmm?”

He opens his mouth to speak then closes it again, swallowing hard like he’s not ready to say what he wants to say. “I’m glad he called you,” he finally tells her, his voice low and sincere. “I’m glad you came.”

Liv beams at him, glancing at the door when Carisi walks back in balancing two coffee cups in one hand, then looking back at Rafael and tightening her hold on his hand. “So am I, Rafael. So am I.”