#why can't poll last for three days.

[of-crowns-and-echoes]

Very Important Question!

I've managed to salvage a somewhat old draft of chapter 2! It does not have all of the content, or even the most recent version of the initial bits of the chapters, but I've been editing and reworking it, and I think I can finish at least this part by this weekend.

With that in mind, would you rather have the chapter updated in two parts according to the content I have written and the content I haven't, or split according to where I think the content has a reasonable break, or not split at all? The first two options mean a smaller update sometime this week, the latter means a larger update next month.

[twobitsblade]

Hi!!! I saw your poll and I was wondering if you could write a 60s!Elvis X Reader fic, where Reader is having a hard time at work because they can't seem to keep up with everything and Elvis finds them crying outside their work place? Comforting them and asking why they can't just let him take care of them?

Take all the time you need!❤️

(hello, thank you so much for requesting this! it was slightly difficult to write since this is my first time writing smut, but i hope you all enjoy it. i’d love to see more requests featuring elvis in my inbox!)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ MY HEART BELONGS TO DADDY !

a work of fiction written by @twobitsblade and inspired by @atleastpleasetelephone, @jhoneybees, @wanderingelvis, @lustnhim, and @theelvisprincess !

contains: smut (obviously), reader and elvis are married, elvis is a cocky know-it-all with hints of the 1960s male mindset !

you and elvis had been together for a while now; around three years of loving, fighting, and arguing, but you knew that at the end of the day he’d always be there for you. and you knew that even when you took up a new job at your aunt’s boutique—something which elvis discouraged multiple times (“oh m’baby, you ain’t needuh do these stupid ol’ jobs, m’the one providin’”)—while you were very thankful for him, your aunt desperately needed your help, and who were you to turn her down?

but it turns out that perhaps elvis was right—this job began to be a lot more than you’d signed up for. originally, the deal was you’d wear a cute dress, get your hair done all nice (for free, mind you), and greet the customers, but then more and more duties started being asked of you.

“oh dear, can you go bring the boxes from the basement?” “can you go downtown and pick up some new hair dyes? we’re all out, and the shipment won’t be on time?” “can you give her a little trim? it’s not too complicated.”

while you don’t like to think of yourself as spoilt, you’re not very used to working these types of jobs. i mean, you and elvis have been together for years, and you’d gotten used to the comfy lifestyle he provided you.

one day, it just became too much—you were turning around like a dog, fulfilling one task after the other, and it didn’t help that you barely slept last night. it’s not like you could tell elvis about this because it’d prove him right, and you can’t handle that damn cocky smirk on his face as he tells you how he knows his little one wasn’t made for such hard work.

you sigh, placing your things down—the sound a bit louder than intended, causing you to flinch. you toss off your high heels, lazily running up the stairs of graceland and into the bedroom you and elvis shared—grand, beautiful, and decorated by both of you as a visual representation of your love for the other—but now all it felt was suffocating.

you plopped down on the bed, not bothering to change out of your outdoor clothes, and laid your head facing the ceiling when suddenly you heard rustling and groaning, causing you to turn your head as you saw the back of elvis’s head. he slowly turns around to face you, clearly still half asleep.

“mmm, hey m’baby, how’s work?” he says drowsily, grabbing you by the collar of your dress and pulling you close, wrapping his leg around your waist.

“it was fine, el—fine as usual,” you say, though he wasn’t stupid; even half asleep, he could tell. he groaned, rubbed his eyes, and sat up.

he looked you up and down before smirking—god damn it—“well, what’s the matter, huh, little ’un?” you rolled your eyes and weakly shoved him, the shove barely moving him.

“i said it was nothing, didn’t i?” you groaned, but he doesn’t care.

“ah, f’god’s sakes, just let me take care of my babygirl…” he groaned, grabbing you and laying you on top of him. you tried to pull away to no avail, causing you to let out a mewl which made him chuckle—everything about him was irritating you in that moment: his baby blue eyes, his tan skin, his perfectly, oh so disgustingly perfect smile, and the softness with which he looked at you, his girl. you sighed, resting your head on his chest and stifling a sob, and he noticed, tangling his fingers in your hair, “shh, m’girl, tell daddy what happened.” you did, and even though it all came out as incomprehensible high-pitched, whiny rambles, he nodded as though he understood you—not just your words, but the language of your soul.

you eventually felt content, done venting. you sighed, wiped your tears, and looked up at him, and suddenly you chuckled. it wasn’t quite wry but not quite from happiness; you felt good—elvis always had a way of making you feel good.

and in your exhausted state, you needed him, needed him badly, and he could see that; after all, he knew you inside and out. his hand went down to your back, then to your hip, then to your butt, then to your thigh, causing you to feel slight tingles coursing through you—you hated that, you hated how easily he could get you in such a vulnerable state.

“baby, come on, you need to open up for me. how else can i keep you safe, huh, lil ’un?”—ah, the typical elvis double entendre.

you nodded slowly, turning around on his lap so he could unzip your dress, the slight friction causing him to groan, “fuckin’ tease, you are…” he said, unzipping your dress slowly but surely, “ah, m’girls wearin’ somethin’ fancy, hmm?” he said, observing your baby pink bra with lace detailing. your face heated up at his words as you expected him to unbuckle your bra, but he didn’t.

he linked his fingers underneath the clasp and pulled you backwards so that your back rested on his chest, as his hands, in a painfully slow manner, slid down from your cleavage to your ribs, to your belly, down to your pelvic bone, and under your skirt—and you arched into him, causing a giggle to escape him. “hmm, needy, ain’t ya?” he said, his fingers rubbing circles on your clothed cunt as you squirmed into his touch. he slipped one finger underneath the fabric and then inside you, causing you to let out a loud, high-pitched moan—and god knows he wasn’t going to be the one to silence those sounds—then another finger, then a third and final one, as he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. you lost yourself in his touch; incomprehensible words mixed with moans left your mouth drowned by his groans—the sounds almost pornographic.

he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on your dress, causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness you felt and at the vulgarity of the action.

he rolled around so that you were now under him, and a surge of excitement crossed you.

he removed his pants, then his boxers, his erect cock springing out from them. he grinned, “y’ready m’baby?” you nodded, preparing yourself as he aligned his tip with your entrance, your wetness working as the perfect lube, and slowly—painfully slowly—he entered you, moans leaving your mouth as your mind became dazed, hungry for the man you loved so much.

slowly, he began thrusting in and out repeatedly, causing you to let out a strange sound—a mix of a scream and a yowl—with his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh of your hips. “mm, take it for me like a good little girl.” you nodded, continuing, and as you felt your climax approaching, he nodded, a silent signal that you could release yourself, and so you did—all over him—and soon after, he followed.

you both plopped down onto the bed with a sigh. he looked at your tired frame with admiration, the sweat glistening off your body and making you look like an angel. he hugged you slowly, “m’girl, you gotta be honest with me; i’m always gonna be takin’ care of you, aight?” you nodded, letting out a gentle mix between a whimper and a sigh as his body embraced yours.

[totalswag]

pairs love - DREW STARKEY

authors not since drew is in pairs at the fashion shows i thought why not write something cute and adorable. like can we talk about how freaking good he looked walking around ugh. the poll is officially over and the rafe series won! ima start working on the master list and have it up.

summary you come out to visit your boyfriend in pairs during fashion week.

warnings kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower

Drew was invited to two fashion shows in Paris: menswear for Prada and Loewe menswear. He left three days ago, while you stayed at home to put the finishing touches on your flower garden.

You couldn't be more proud of your boyfriend with all the success he's gained over the past couple years. He truly deserves this. Getting the recognition he deserves.

Last night, you landed in Pairs, drained from hours on the plane and eager to shower and sleep on a bed. It felt good seeing Drew and being in his arms. Although it was three days without each other, you always miss his presence.

Drew had the day off, so he planned to take you out to dinner, walk around, shopping, and visit the Eiffel Tower. He advised you to get enough rest early so you have enough rest to explore the Pairs at night.

During dinner, Drew spoke about what the shows were like and meeting celebs he's seen in movies or other people for the first time. It was really cool hearing what he had to say.

You were quite excited to visit the Eiffel Tower. You've always wanted to see it in person someday. Your inner child was jumping up and down inside.

"That restaurant was so delicious; I can see why you enjoy it so much," you tell Drew, tucking your hands into your coat to keep them warm from the cold.

"I'm glad to hear that you liked it baby," He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and blushes.

You chuckle as you playfully nudge his arm. He pretends to fall on his side, with a dramatic expression on his face.

"You are such a dork," you laugh.

"Your favorite dork, dork," he responds in a playful tone, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you continue walking down the sidewalk.

Drew and you went inside a few stores that caught your eye; you might've bought a few things. Drew watched you in awe as you showed him different clothing throughout the store.

"What do you think about this one?" You inquired Drew, holding two clothes that piqued your interest.

Drew hurriedly glances aside from the apparel rack he was browsing. His brows furrow as he casts a stern stare with his pointer finger on his chin.

"I think both will look great on you, but I'd go with this one because it draws your eyes out," he says casually, sweeping his arm toward the shirt you first showed him.

"You are too sweet, you know that" you reply as you turn around, putting back the other clothing item.

He loves seeing you happy. He knew how much you've always wanted to visit Pairs and thought this was the best time to go.

"Thank you for the stuff, baby," you grin, gripping his hand and lifting the bag with your other hand.

When you went out of the last store, you heard people heading in your direction, fans. They walked forward with grins on their faces, carrying items for him to sign and their phones for photos.

When one fan spotted you were with him, she screamed your name out in delight, and the rest followed after. You put your free hand over your heart with a pout before beaming at the little fans.

We love you Drew

This is the best day of my life

I can't believe he's in front of me

He's so beautiful in person

Drew started taking pictures with the fans; giving them hugs, making videos for fans that couldn't make it, signed a few things, and had conversations.

Fans also came up to as well. They were all so sweet and caring. One fan came up to you with tears forming in her eyes, you opened your arms to welcome her.

You are so sweet, Y/N

You are so gorgeous

Can't believe you are here too

I love your relationship with Drew

When word spread that Drew was in a relationship, all of the fans went crazy, searching for who this mystery girl was. You were apprehensive about how the fans might react.

You eventually posted a TikTok video with your best friend, Madelyn Cline, and Drew happened to be in the background; people then connected the dots. In the end, they loved and admired you.

Being in a relationship with someone in the public spotlight offers advantages and disadvantages, but you wouldn't alter it for anything, especially if you love them.

"Don't cry now love," you tell her softly, "what's your name?" She tells you her name and goes on to explain how much she loves you and your content you post.

"That's so sweet of you, thank you."

You spent ten minutes with the girls until it was ready to go look at the Eiffel Tower.

The Eiffel Tower was everything you've dreamed of. Seeing it in person was one of the best feelings in the world. So many emotions were going through your body.

You got out your phone to capture some photos and videos to share later tomorrow. Drew snapped a photo of you with his digital camera, capturing the tower, and he couldn't help but smile.

He carefully put his arms around your waist, drawing you into his front, chin on top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly and silently while savoring the moment.

"This has been one of the greatest days of my entire life. Being here with you in your arms in Pairs. I just want to say thank your for bringing me out here and experiencing this."

You feel your body relax in his touch, allowing a sigh to escape your lips, your head to strike his chest, and giving him the opportunity to kiss you.

You two don't give a damn whether anyone witnesses you kissing at this point. Right now, just the two of you matter because you are in love. And you are in Pairs.

"I had to bring you out here with me, of course, sweetheart. You keep me warm, too, and I love holding you in my arms. However, when you consider it, this is our first trip to Europe as a couple” he says.

You move your body around so that your chests are against one another. In return, you up on your small toes and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face.

I love you.

I love you more.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line over your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @kaydr3venge

[11cupids-tarot11]

A Letter From Your Future Spouse

➽───────────────❥

1 -> 4

Cupid's Services Cupid's Master List Socials

Tips appreciated!

C@sh app and P@ypal only!

$minnieplant3

@janellec03

LOVE U

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

︻デ═一 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 1- Four of Wands, The Fool, Page of Swords, Nine of Cups, Page of Wands, The Wheel of Fortune.

"Hi you! I've been sleeping a lot, can't seem to do anything else lately because of how tired I've been. Finally. I can sleep as much as I want to now because of a situation that just so happened to end recently. Death.

What now? See, I've been wondering the same thing. But let's not even worry about it, let's just sleep as much as we want to because we finally can, even if it's only a little nap time out of your day do it because I gotta see you one last time later, I've got a message for you in your dreams. Spirit will tell you, don't worry about missing it or when <3

Resting so much so when I do have to work, you know, find that balance again between work and fun, I can focus on what's so important to me a lot better, I mean really give it my all... You know? Lol

Sorry, I dream a lot, you might notice my head is always in the clouds. I have very air energy like a Gemini.

Things are finally clearing up for me! I feel at peace, maybe we mirror each other and things are also getting better for you too? You have to let me know, okay? I feel like I can finally breathe again, be optimistic without being scared the rug is going to get snatched from underneath.

I've been working so so hard on my craft, putting in so much love and effort into my work and I feel really hopeful that all of my productivity will pay off soon, consistency is key, right?

I really like the color yellow, 😄 talk again soon!"

Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to do the poll below 👇🏾 ✨

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 2- Knight of Wands, I forgot to write down the rest of the cards I'm so sorry 😞

"I have no problem with putting in hard work for anything I want, even you, you know? If you don't want me the moment we catch eyes I'll make you ;)

The moment I catch you I'm going to make sure I never stop loving you, I'll make sure every day is beautiful, even on our bad days we'll kiss each other good night before bed still. I love you!

Why do you keep worrying yourself? All of that doubt in that pretty little head of yours isn't good, you should lay it all to rest before you make yourself sick baby. Sleep more, practice some self care before you run yourself crazy, okay?

I'm so proud of you, you know, for whatever amazing things you've accomplished lately. I believe in you, I'll always be your #1 cheerleader!

You should go out and celebrate! Enjoy the sun, you deserve it my angel! Promise me you won't let this go by like it's just not that big and you'll go out and do something? Pinky promise?

Stay focused! You're on the right path, you're doing amazing! I promise you, all of this will be worth it, it's worth our future 💓 keep going, I know you can do it! 🎉"

Hope you enjoy!!☺️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 3- Queen of Cups, Justice, Four of Cups, The Moon, Three of Swords, The Star.

" Hi my love, you know I don't talk a lot haha, so I'll make this quick as usual and get out of your hair so you can go on.

I just want to remind you, you're my queen, my favorite, my whole world ❤️ I think red looks really pretty on you btw but anyway, I love and miss you like crazy at times like these.

I am going through something right now, a legal situation, a situation I wish would come to an end right now because it's so heavy on me, it's hurting me but I know at the same time it's happening to me because it's part of my karma, something that's forcing me to look so closely at myself, at every shadow because I think it leads me to you. My everything. We're going to get married, I'm so sure of it.

I'm keeping hope alive, I'm hanging on to every thread of it I've got. I'm working on everything right now, I'll catch up with you soon sweetheart 💋 I'm going to kiss you when I do, you won't be able to get rid of me. ;) "

Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to do the poll below!!

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Pile 4- Ace of Cups, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, Nine of Cups, Knight of Cups, Nine of Wands.

"I want to come to you with amazing news but I can't, I'm sorry to say, I've taken a turn for the worst right now. Don't worry, it's temporary.

I am slowly building myself back up, that's what I'm doing right now if you're wondering what I've been doing all this time. I'm healing day by day and I hope you are too sweetheart. I might be a bit stuck and tangled up right now, but I'm clearing through it!

I'm the kind of guy who will pursue you with nothing but kindness until I make you fall for me with your charm, I'm cute, I know I am, you'll love me, I have curly light hair, and a really cute smile. You'll think I'm so adorable.

I want to offer my heart to you, fully, 100%. You have me, all of me as long as you give me you in return, I hope you do, I can't be without you once I know you.

Take care my love ❤️."

Hope you enjoyed ❤️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

[acid-ixx]

HUH!?!? another poll in just a day? hell yeah, but this one is all based off of this post (planned fanfics/one-shots), so please do take a read with the link above. i removed the hanahaki one since it's already in my previous one. the last two choices i added are ones i added on my planned drafts before so do read the summary below for the last two.

and if anyone is wondering "why are you so confident that you're actually gonna post about these?", it's because christmas break is coming soon and i'll actually have time to write something solid other than just ideas. so yeah! go batshit crazy i guess.

Love at First Fuck (Romantic Bruce Wayne, Platonic Batfam): Being a journalist has its perks and downfalls. Personally, you like to ignore the public criticism against you because it is your passion, first and foremost. And the good outweighs the bad, anyways! Like, one, you get to voice your opinions. Two, you'd have an insider view about certain situations as long as you have the legal pass to. And finally, three, you get to have a chance of hooking up with the well-known billionaire Bruce Wayne after meeting him during a gala. Sleeping with him after your first date was spectacular in your eyes, and it was enough to rid of the stress of your workload always piling up. Yet as you try to leave the manor with nothing but your crumpled clothes and messy hair, you start to notice the strange ways his children treat you and how they were too eager to keep you in their home; convinced you'd be quitting your job to live as Bruce's new spouse... Wait, since when did you have a ring on your finger?!

Not for Love, But for Safety (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): Attempting to divorce Bruce Wayne whilst your blooming feelings for Clark Kent was both a challenge and a stepping stone for someone like you. You were taught submissiveness, and for your entire life; to desire your endgame being a house spouse for a rich man who could provide. When Bruce agreed to marry you, it was only diligence to his promise of keeping you, an unwilling victim to your family's drug cartel reputation, safe and sound. That was the reason why your argument began to ensue, when your soon to be ex-husband admitted that he only married you so you'd be protected. But you do not want protection, or safety— what you want is love; a state of being Bruce couldn't provide you, a desirable feeling your new partner offers you.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Eleven

Summary: Making up with Jungkook isn't something you want to do first thing in the morning but you've kept him waiting for far too long Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 3.7k~ Warnings: Explicit language (barely lol) a/n: I know I put a poll up and this was the last choice in the rankings but this was already finished so I figured I'd just post it 😅 Start from the beginning

Opening my eyes I'm greeted with the warmth of the sun on my skin, shining through the curtains where I've fallen asleep on the couch in my living room. 

Reaching for my phone I check the time and see that I've woken up just five minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. I'd prefer it this way honestly if it could save me from being jolted awake by that incessant ringing signaling the start of my day. 

Taking a deep breath I look up at the ceiling and start coaching myself in how this morning should all go down. Confronting someone after a fight is never pleasant but in this situation it's necessary. 

'I don't want to lose him', that has been the reason for my inaction and now it has to be my motivation to take action.

Jungkook can be hardheaded when he wants to be (sometimes even more than me), but I can't let the fear of not being able to reach him keep me from fighting for us. 

I know I need to show him how much he means to me, I know I've fallen short and I know for sure it's my turn to step up and make things right.

Sitting up I'm hit with a sudden feeling of wooziness and realize that in all the upset I forgot to eat last night. 

Well, I guess that's another motivation added to the list for getting me up and out of this apartment. I make my way to my bathroom to take a quick shower and get dressed to go before I can chicken out of this. 

I'm reminded of some of the horrible things he said to me last night as I continue to wake up but the reason they cut so deep is because most of them are laced with truth. 

I was stringing him along, I did spend time with Jimin, but I'm not dating him. I don't like the attention as much as he thinks I do, I only really care about him and it's been like that for years.

I guess since I haven't really entertained a guy for a while neither one of us knows how to act, especially since I know that he loves me now. 

Or loved...

Arriving at his door I find myself hesitant to knock since the action itself seems foreign. Between the three of us including Grey we've kinda dropped that formality, or at least Grey and I have. 

Jungkook still is a bit more respectful and texts before letting himself in. I hope we can go back to those days and that the damage that has been done can be repaired. 

Making moves to knock I'm interrupted by the sight of Hoseok coming out of his place a few doors down. 

"Oh Luna, hi! I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?" he asks looking bright eyed and bushy tailed, a tell tail sign that he probably wasn't aware of Jungkook's drunken stupor from last night. 

"Could be better" I say now reminded of Jungkook's same response just hours ago. 

"Are you here to see Jungkook?" he asks, clearly seeing what my intensions are. "Yeah, do you know if he got home last night?" I question now concerned as to why he's asking.

"I heard from Jin that he crashed at his place after showing up drunk off his ass. He said he was mumbling something about you so I figured you might be showing up sometime soon" he relays, knowing that there's no real reason to hide the information from me. 

"Oh okay, I guess I'll go ahead and talk to him another time" I say making moves to retreat. "I could take you there if you want? It's on my way anyways" he says and I'm just now noticing he looks like he was on his way out. 

"Oh I don't want to impose" I start trying to decline his offer. "Don't worry about it, he's been out of sorts for the past week so I know that seeing you would probably help him out. I don't mean to sound nosy but we all kinda found out what happened".

I nod my head in understanding and ultimately accept his offer. 

The journey to Jin's house isn't too long but with every passing second I feel like my airways are closing up, my throat going dry. 

As I try to listen to Hoseok's rambling about some sort of new figurine that he collects I see the minutes on the gps get smaller and smaller as we get closer to our destination. Once it hits zero and he parks the car we sit there for a second. 

"Do you want me to walk you up? I told Jin we were on our way so he's already expecting you" he says hoping to encourage me to take that leap to finally try to work things out.

"No it's okay, you've already helped me so much. Thank you Hoseok really, I know I hurt him but I really do want to make it right" I say with a sad smile. 

"I know, friendships are hard and they're even harder when love gets added to the mix..." I widen my eyes and I see an amused look on his face. "Yes he told us that too, believe it or not he's been gushing about you to us for years, and it's Hobi, Hoseok is too formal" he chuckles. 

"Thank you Hobi, hopefully next time I see you it'll be under happier circumstances" I say with a pained expression. "I'm sure it will, we all know what he's like but please, don't stop fighting for him" he says pinching his eyebrows together in a pained expression. 

"I won't" is the last thing I say to him before walking up to the house. 

"Hi Luna" Jin says after answering my soft knocks on his door, doing my best to keep quiet incase Jungkook is still sleeping. "Hey" I say and he brings me in for a hug. "He's not awake yet but you can wait in the living room and we can catch up for a bit if you're up for it" he says and offers me a cup of coffee while he walks over to the kitchen, to which I accept and take a seat on his wrap around couch. 

"Here you go" he says and also brings milk and sugar so I can fix it to my liking. After doing so he retrieves the items and finally comes over to sit down on the opposite side of the couch making sure to keep a respectful distance, knowing what Jungkook's reaction might be if he found us any closer.

"How have you been? Hanging in there?" he starts taking the pressure off of me of initiating the conversation. "As best as I can be I guess. Did he tell you what happened last night?" I ask hoping to see where his head was at after our argument. 

"Well he was way too far gone when he got here so not a whole lot of it made sense other than telling me you guys had a fight and that you were cheating on him" he says recalling the sight. 

"How could I be cheating on him if we're not even dating?" I groan throwing my head back against the couch. 

"You know him, he's always been very protective of you, and I guess that with his confession he couldn't help but let out some of that possessive energy along with it" he explains plainly.

"Yeah I can tell. I got used to him being protective but everything has gotten out of control since then. You saw what happened that day on the boardwalk. How else was I supposed to react?" I ask, hoping for some sort of validation for my actions. 

"Maybe you shouldn't have shut me out" I freeze hearing Jungkook's deep morning voice that is drenched in hostility, still clearly upset with me. 

"Jungkook that's not fair" Jin says trying to come to my rescue. "It's okay Jin just let me talk to him" I talk him down, hoping that he'll give us some space to talk. "I'll be in the other room if you need me" he says and gets up to go, granting us a sense of privacy.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook grumbles as he makes his way over to the kitchen and I decide to follow him there. 

"I came to see you" I say stating the obvious. "How did you find me?" he continues only asking surface level questions as he gets the coffee pot and pours himself a cup. "I passed by your place first and I bumped into Hobi so he told me where you were and gave me a ride here" I explain. 

"Don't call him that, only his friends get to call him that" he says clearly not happy that I've had contact with his hyungs without his prior knowledge. 

"He asked me to call him that..." I say trailing off deciding it's best not to push it. "Well I don't want you to. They're my friends, not yours" he says sternly still giving me the cold shoulder. "Noted" is all I say and do my best to give him a peace offering instead.

"I brought over some hangover soup, I thought you might like some" I say nodding towards the bag on the counter. 

Having his back to me, now looking for something that I could only guess would be some painkillers from the sight of the different medicine bottles in the cabinet, he only grunts in acknowledgement not really making an effort to show any sort of gratitude. 

"Shit" he mumbles. "I brought you some painkillers too if that's what you're looking for" I say hoping to get him to see that I really am here to help and not hurt. He lets out a deep sigh and looks over at the water bottle and the pain meds in question that I had placed on the counter and decides it's best to give in. 

"Thanks" he mumbles and takes the pills immediately. "You should probably eat something though so let me just heat up the soup for you too. I don't want you to end up with a stomachache on top of it all" I say gathering the takeout containers and assembling the meal before he can refuse.

After the food is ready I sit at the table and keep him company as he eats. 

"Aren't you gonna have some?" he questions, curious as to why I haven't served myself as well. "No that's okay, I ate something before I came here" I say making sure that he'll eat his fill and still have some left over for later. 

He shrugs his shoulders and continues to eat until I see that he looks like he's feeling a bit more alive again. He sits back and takes another drink of water before finally speaking. 

"So I'm guessing you're here to talk?" he says getting up to clear out the dishes, to which I jump up and help right away. "Yeah" I trail off hoping to have a more stable setting unlike last night. 

He nods his head and we both make our way over to the couch and end up sitting at the same distance that Jin and I had just been at before.

"So talk" he says and waits for me to explain myself. "Do you remember what happened last night?" I start off. 

"Bits and pieces. I do remember that you've been seeing another guy though, I wasn't drunk enough to forget that" he answers saying the last part under his breath. 

"I just want to clear that up real quick first so we can establish the reasons why I did what I did" he nods in acknowledgement and lets me continue. 

"His name is Jimin first off, and I met him a few days before the night you told me you love me, or loved me based off of what you said last night" he opens his mouth to interrupt but I hold my hand up telling him to wait until I've said my piece.

"He came into the store one day and flirted with me and we hit it off. He asked me to go to a cafe with him, which I did and he tried to kiss me at the end of it. I stopped him and told him I wanted to get to know him better and that we should take things slow, to which he agreed so we just kept things chill from there but he made his intensions known right away" I say and watch as his expressions change, seeing he wants to get a word in but he respects my wishes.

"In case you're wondering we haven't gone out on a proper date and we haven't kissed. On the night you and I had that fight on the boardwalk Jin brought me home and when I walked up to my doorstep there was a red envelope addressed to me" I continue and I can tell his interest is peaked.

"I picked it up and brought it inside and when I opened it I saw pictures of me with you and Grey. Some were from work, others were from us or just me inside my apartment and some were of us in random places where we were just spending time together. It even had pictures of when we went stargazing and from the day we went to the boardwalk"

I reach into my bag to take out the picture of us kissing with the first note that said 'I'm Watching You' with Jungkook's face crossed out. 

"All of the pictures had your face crossed out like this and I got scared so I grabbed my phone to try to call you but I somehow ended up calling Jimin on accident" I say and I see the way his hands grip the picture I had given him a little tighter.

"I started spiraling and by the time he picked up the phone he could already tell that something was wrong. I couldn't bring myself to hang up and call you because of what had happened between us so when he offered to come over I said yes" Jungkook tongues his cheek, a muscle in his jaw feathering.

"When he got there he helped calm me down and it felt so wrong to have someone else do what you've done for me time and time again but I knew it would've been selfish of me to ask you to come over after I had just asked for space".

I clear my throat before I keep going and I notice now that he's got his eyes trained on me, not missing a single word, needing to know what happened. 

"He spent the night, initially sleeping on the couch until I woke up from a nightmare later on that night so I asked him to sleep in the bed with me but that was it. Nothing happened" I explain and although he's still clearly tense I can tell he's happy that nothing happened. 

"I'm telling you in explicit detail because I want to be honest with you. I don't want there to be anymore misunderstandings between us. After that night I felt like we had gotten a bit closer so he asked me if I wanted to spend some more time together but I told him no because I wanted to figure out where things between you and I stand and he understood that but again told me that he still wanted to date me if I gave him the chance" if looks could kill...

"He ended up stopping by the store sometimes to just say hi and we would text occasionally but that's what the state of my relationship with him is at at the moment"

I think for a second trying to formulate my words carefully, the next part is one that could make or break our relationship. 

"I did ask for space that day for a few different reasons" I start off and I can see him squirm a bit in his seat. 

"One being that both you and Jimin confessed your feelings to me on the same night so my emotions were all over the place which is probably why I reacted the way that I did, so I apologize if I scared you" I explain and he nods, waiting for the other reasons on the list. 

"Two was that I felt like a switch flip between us even before you confessed to me. I could sense the tension building so I didn't know how to act. Third was from the way that things went down the day we fought. I do admit that I had fault in it too so I don't want you to feel like I'm blaming it all on you because I'm not" I back track a bit and he nods again.

"I had been teasing you from the start because I liked the way you would react to it. I liked the way you were getting jealous and possessive over me. It made me feel wanted and I hadn't really experienced something like that before" I confess, owning up to my fault. 

"I let things get out of hand when I kept on provoking you so I'm sorry. I didn't realize that something like that would make you so upset so it's my fault that that fight happened in the first place" I finish and take a deep breath, waiting for him to say something, finally giving him the chance to do so.

"That's a lot" he he breathes out, still trying to process it all. "I probably said some mean stuff to you last night didn't I?" he questions. I nod my head and he rubs his temples and thinks for a while before he finally starts to respond to everything. 

"That fight wasn't all your fault Luna, I played a part in it too. If anything I escalated it because of how blinded by jealousy I was. Having my feelings out in the open made me feel vulnerable and the guys knew that but they messed around with you anyways" he sighs and I nod, realizing that we were teaming up and trying to provoke him. 

"It wasn't a good decision on my part to bring you and I should've known that so I'm sorry too. I'm sorry for the way I treated you then and I'm sorry for what happened last night. Even though I don't remember everything I do know that what I did was fucked up and I should've just  turned around and left when I saw you. I wasn't ready to talk and I knew that but I missed you so much I couldn't pass up the chance to see you again" he says looking at me with true regret in his eyes. 

"I missed you too" I say quietly so I don't interrupt him too much.

"That stalker...well until we get to the bottom of that you're not leaving my side" he growls, leaving me protesting but now he's the one that's putting his hand up to stop me. "We'll work that out later but after all of this where do we stand?" he asks, slightly grimacing at the end.

"I don't know why I would ever say that I don't love you because I do. I love you so fucking much it hurts Luna" he lets out a shaky breath. "No matter what I've said in the past or what I'll say in the future I will always love you" he finishes showing so much regret. 

"I don't know...but maybe we could start off by being best friends again?" I suggest hoping that he'll be satisfied with that for now. "I'm not saying that I don't want to try and make us work, but for right now I think our feelings are too raw so we should probably take some time to heal what's been hurt" I explain, hoping I've gotten my point across. 

"I think I'd like that...but let's try to heal together this time okay? Don't push me away again. I don't care how mad you are, just stay with me" he pleads, reaching out for my hand.

"Always" I reply, squeezing his hand. 

"You've said that before" he gives me a stern look. 

"Okay but I really do mean it this time" I hold my hands up laughing at his attempt to be mad at me again. 

"You better" he chuckles before ruffling my hair. 

"I guess I deserved that" I say while blowing the hair out of my face. "Oh you definitely deserve more than that" he says standing up and stalking towards me. 

"What do you mean by that?" I say standing up and backing away from him. 

"Why don't you come over here and find out" he chuckles with a devious smile, lunging towards me which I narrowly evade and run away from him.

"Jin! Jin, help! He's trying to kill me!" I yell laughing at how silly Jungkook looks while running after me. 

"YA! I leave you two alone for 10 minutes and you're already disrespecting my home?" he scolds. 

I make a bee line for him but Jungkook cuts me off and pulls me in by my waist, my back up against his chest. 

"Jin please save me. Please don't leave me with him" I beg while he backs up into his room seeing the playful manner that has been revived between us. 

"Just don't break anything Jungkook" he chuckles and sends us an amused smile before he closes the door 

"No" I whimper out before Jungkook whispers in my ear. 

"Seems like we've gotta make up for lost time" he purrs before pinching my sides, making me squirm in his embrace. 

"Jungkook stop please you know I hate this!" I whine before he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. "Aw pretty, we haven't even started" he smirks and starts tickling me mercilessly.

"JIN! HELP!" I yell out through gasps desperate for a savior, my prayers forever going unanswered.

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[misfitgirlwrites]

Alastor Having A Crush On You/How Would He React?

Since the choice of writing all three won my poll, I'll start with this one because it was in second place! Next is Lucifer!

Here is my first contribution to the Hazbin Hotel fanfic dump, please call me MG, and may we all enjoy our obsession together 🕺🏽

CW: none!

You could know of Alastor before the appearance of Hazbin Hotel or you could be hearing of him for the first time when you decide to walk through those hotel doors.

He wouldn't pay you any mind at first, just like any other sinner residing in the hotel. After a while though you'd pique his interest a bit. It could be something you said that he overheard, or something you do that he just so happened to catch that day.

It would make him pay more attention to you, but you wouldn't notice right away. It'd always be convenient situations; everyone being in the same room and he decides to stay longer than usual. Joining conversations with you and Charlie would have when talking about the hotel.

You always had unique ideas to try and get the hotel traction, and they amused him.

After a while, he would start talking to you on his own.

This would confuse you at first, since you two haven't really had any real conversation outside of anything hotel-related. It seemed Alastor decided he wanted a bit more than that.

You certainly didn't mind it once you could tell he was genuine with this interest. It started from small conversations as you passed each other to nightly talks at the bar that would last for hours.

Alastor would grow to really enjoy the routine of seeing you everyday. Soon, you wouldn't be seen without him close behind.

He would let you accompany him when he would usually spend the time alone from everyone else.

The first time you initiate physical touch would be when he starts to focus on his feelings for you. One day, you'd ask to hug him, and he'd agree much too quickly for his own liking.

After he hugs you once, please expect more of them. In private, he would 100% just cuddle you close to him but will deny it if you bring it up.

Alastor knows he has some sort of feelings for you but will refuse to acknowledge it for a while.

Because let's be for real? This guy? Having a crush on someone? With Vox attempting (and probably succeeding?) to watch him 25/8? Simple math states that's called a weakness.

Alastor wouldn't have many choices. He could cut interaction altogether, but that certainly wouldn't benefit him that much. He wouldn't have any worries, sure, but he'd miss you, and he knows that.

And he's never denied himself anything before if he wanted something so why start now because of potential bumps in the road? Especially bumps he was sure that he was more than capable of handling.

Alastor still wouldn't openly express any romantic feelings right away but his time spent with you becomes a regular occurrence.

He would so go to Rosie and talk to her about you (they're besties, don't you love it?)

She'd most likely be the one to call him out on his crush and push him to actually do something about it.

THAT is when he'd actually "fuck it" and decide he does in fact want you :)

It wouldn't be anything grand, but the bastard has such a way with words, so it's certainly romantic.

A tad bit possessive but 🤸🏽‍♂️

He simply can't help himself when it comes to you~

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Alastor or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all! 💚

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Lean On Me

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: minor emergency room situation, injury, fluffy x100, allusions to smut, a lil more coach!steve harrington

author's note: definitely did not write this one clocked in at my desk…i just can’t stay away from these guys.  this is not proofread so please be gentle if there are any mistakes :) also, i’m no medical professional so i’m not exactly sure if this is how one would treat a bruised foot…just go with it. ALSO!!! I had to give our art teacher a last name, and the polls chose 'Ms. Heart.' cute right?

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 3.9k

Ms. Heart🎨: The kids are saying they saw Coach Harrington carrying you out to the parking lot…tell me they’re kidding

Mr. Munson🎸: “Carrying” is an exaggeration…

You see the “Incoming FaceTime Call” notification pop up on the screen of your phone and hurry to shut your classroom door.  Even though it’s nearing the end of the day, and this is technically your planning period, sometimes kids still like to come in and hang out in your classroom.  You had a feeling that Eddie wouldn’t want any students around to hear this call though.

Your anxiety is momentarily forgotten when you see his handsome face on your screen after answering the FaceTime call.  Even after almost three weeks of knowing him, it still surprises you how gorgeous the man is.  You’re focused on the curve of his sexy grin, but you can't help but notice the subtle winces peaking through it.   You can tell he’s in the passenger seat of a truck, Steve’s truck you’re guessing, and your theory is confirmed when the man in question grabs the phone from Eddie’s hands and puts it up to his face.

“Well hello there Ms. Art Teacher!  You’ll never guess what your guy got himself into now–wait a second,” he turns to look at Eddie with an appalled expression ,”Why is your lady’s name in your phone ‘Ms. Heart’?” 

Eddie snatches his phone back from Steve’s hands and can barely hear the sound of you laughing from the other end.  You and him both know that you put your names in each other's phones as your ‘teacher names,’ just in case someone were to see a notification and get suspicious.  You still have yet to go public with your new relationship, and Eddie is counting down the days until he can let everyone know you’re his girl.

“Will you stop calling her ‘my lady’? You sound like a douche.”

Steve lets out a triumphant laugh. “Yeah, right.  This douche is getting laid on the regular pal.  I’ll hear your opinions on my vocabulary when you can say the same.”

Eddie looks back at your face on his screen, noticing how you’re blushing at Steve’s words.  He throws you a wink, just to see your reaction, and he isn’t disappointed.  You turn even redder and throw your free hand over your face to cover your smile.  

Steve’s words don’t bother you exactly, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been devoting a lot of time to thinking about whether or not Eddie cares that the two of you haven’t slept together yet.  It’s not that you don’t want to, of course you want to.  You’ve been wanting to climb that man like a tree since the moment he first spoke to you at orientation.  There just hasn’t been time to even approach that topic with the school year starting and the craziness of it all.  

You and Eddie are smiling bashfully at each other through the screen when he grunts in pain.  The phone shakes at the same time, and you remember that Steve is driving Eddie somewhere.

“Fuck, man.  Can you try not to drive into every pothole you see?”

Steve scoffs, “Yeah sure.  Lemme just swerve around them and into all the other cars on the road.  Then we’d both be injured.”

Both? Both? Meaning one of them already is?

“Eddie?” you ask.  He can tell by the sound of the question that you're on the verge of panic, so he smiles at you through the screen.

“Yes, sweet girl?”  You can hear Steve’s fake gag in the background at Eddie’s use of the pet name for you, but it doesn’t stop the lovesick smile from trying to make its way onto your lips.

Eddie finds it particularly entertaining to try out all the different pet names on you to see which ones will make you blush the hardest.  He says he keeps an Excel spreadsheet so he can track the data…but you’re pretty sure he’s lying.  Okay, maybe 75% sure.

You point a finger at him sternly. “Quit trying to distract me.  Tell me what’s going on please.”  Eddie would have to be a fool to resist your sweet request, so he gives in. 

“There may have been a little incident while I was putting away equipment after 6th period…”

Steve guffaws, “Yeah, I’ll say.  Your man dropped a 40 pound speaker on his foot!”  Eddie’s hand slaps to his forehead with a groan, he had planned on breaking the news a little gentler to you, and perhaps in a way that didn’t make him look like a total idiot.

Your mouth drops in horror, “What?”

Eddie instantly jumps into trying to calm you down, “Honey, it’s really not that bad–”

“–I heard a crunch!”

“Steve!  Please.”

You take a deep, grounding breath.  “Eddie, just talk please.”

Eddie reaches over to smack Steve before speaking.  “Steve was in my classroom because we were planning on moving a couple speakers out to the fields for the game tonight.  The one I was carrying slipped and landed a little bit on my foot, that’s all.”  He tries his best to speak calmly to keep you from panicking, but it’s hard to ignore the throbbing pain in his right foot.  

“Eddie!  Are you okay?  How bad does it hurt?”  You wish you were with him instead of pacing around in your empty classroom. 

“I can barely feel it sweetheart, I’d rate it a three out of ten.”

Steve scoffs loudly, “Okay buddy, that’s not what it sounded like when I was carrying your ass out of school.”

Eddie turns to fix Steve with a glare, “I still had one foot on the ground, dude.  You were not carrying me.”  He turns back to look at your face through the screen, “He wasn’t carrying me.”  

You hear Steve laughing off screen and Eddie rolls his eyes.  You can’t help but to laugh a little too at the absurdity of it all.  “Where are you heading to?”

“We’re going to the ER.  Personally, I think that’s a little dramatic, but mama bear over here…”

Steve passionately chimes in, “It’s important to treat every injury with the same level of seriousness, even the minor ones!” 

“I actually agree with him on this one, Ed.” you say with a soft smile.  Eddie swoons internally.

He’s able to overlook your choice of Steve’s side due to your use of the nickname.  You’ve been a bit hesitant about using pet names with him the way he does with you, but you’ve assured him time and time again that it’s only because you’ve never dated a guy who actually liked any of that stuff before.  You’re working your way up to Eddie’s level of nicknames, and ‘Ed’ has been a recent development in that process.  Eddie loves it.  

“Gimme the phone man,” Steve’s hand juts into the screen expectantly, swiping the phone from Eddie’s grasp.  “Hey Ms. Artsy, do you think you’ll be able to give this guy a ride back home? Our first home game is in a couple hours, and the boys can’t play without their coach.”

You had almost forgotten about the football game tonight.  Your students had been amped up all day long about it, convincing you to help them paint signs to hold up at the game during class time.  You were planning on asking Eddie if he wanted to go, but you weren’t sure how he felt about attending a school event together.  The status of your relationship wasn’t necessarily a secret, but still not very many people knew.  

“Of course I can!  I just have to clean up a bit and I’ll be right there.” 

“Thanks, teach.” Steve hands the phone back to Eddie, who’s been sulking in the passenger seat because he missed your face. 

You smile at him, “Hang tight, I’ll see you soon okay?”

Eddie smiles, “Okaayyy–!” His voice cuts off in a pained grunt before the call ends, leading you to assume that Steve had once again hit a pothole.  

-

You’re a ball of nerves as you pull in to park outside of the emergency room.  Thankfully, you’re the type of person who keeps their car relatively clean, but that didn’t stop you from doing a once over just to make extra sure there wasn’t any mess.  Why were you so anxious to drive with Eddie?  Maybe the stress from the past hour just has you wound extra tight.

Nervous as you may be, you can’t help but to walk with a bounce in your step as you approach the entrance.  Seeing Eddie is always the highlight of your day, and you couldn’t wipe the growing grin off your face if you tried.  You just hope he isn’t in too much pain, your heart lurches at the thought of him being hurt in any way.

Thanks to impeccable timing, you spot Eddie and Steve walking down the hallway you’ve just entered into.  You notice the papers in Steve’s hands, and the crutches that Eddie is already seemingly irritated by.  Your eyes meet as he looks up, and the crease between his furrowed eyebrows is gone in an instant as a smile lights up his face.  Steve can’t help but smile along as he watches Eddie hobble a little faster on his crutches towards you. 

God, he missed you today.  He loves the color of the top you’re wearing, the way your jeans hug your thighs, the curve of your smile, and he might just love you too, although he probably shouldn’t tell you that part just yet.  

Steve checks his watch for the hundredth time since he and Eddie had arrived at the ER, running a hand through his hair anxiously.  He hands you the papers the doctor gave them with care instructions and pain medication prescriptions before you can even say hello.

“Okay, team.  Kick-off is in thirty minutes, and I gotta jet.”  He looks to you, already in ‘coach’ mode.  “Here are the papers from the doctor, the do’s and don'ts for a bruised foot bone, care instructions, ya-da ya-da.  His prescription can be picked up after 6, there’s a pharmacy around the corner that’s open til 10.”  

You take the papers from him and nod your head, trying to commit all the information to memory.

“Wish me luck guys!”  Steve jogs away, fist pumping the air. “Go Tigers!”

You turn to face Eddie, the both of you wearing matching smiles and shaking your heads at Steve’s theatrics.  You move a bit closer to Eddie, yearning for a hug but not sure if it’s a good idea.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie grins, “Can a hurt guy get a hug? I’m not able to hug you back at this moment but I’ll make it up to you later.”

You step into his space and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest and breathing him in.  How does he still smell so good after teaching all day long?  

He rests his cheek on the top of your head, wondering the same thing about you.  How could someone’s hair possibly be this soft and smell this amazing?  This.  This is what he’s been waiting for all day long.  God, you feel so good pressed against him like this.  If he wasn’t such a gentleman, he’d let the stirring of his cock in his jeans distract him from the pain in his foot, but unfortunately the two of you are still standing in the middle of the ER.  

“Shall we?” 

“Yup!” You reluctantly pull away from his warmth and move to his side to walk with him. You notice him holding his black Dr. Marten’s boot by its laces in one of his hands, then you look down to see his right foot, heavily wrapped in tan bandages.  

“Be honest, does it hurt?” you ask as you take his boot from him so that he can have a better grasp on his crutch.

Eddie sighs, hanging his head.  “I mean, it’s definitely throbbing still.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You reach up to brush a stray curl out of Eddie’s face, and he can’t help but to lean into your touch like a dog when you use that tone of voice.

You hope he’ll let you take him back to your house instead of his own.  The idea of taking care of him and doting on him has you smiling already.  

“Wanna go back to my house?” Eddie feels his ears perk up at the thought of getting to go to your house again. “I can take you back to yours to get some clothes and stuff, but I don’t like the idea of leaving you there alone when you can’t drive yourself.”

Eddie knows he wouldn’t necessarily be alone, but having Steve Harrington as a roommate often feels like living alone.  Not in a bad way of course, it’s just that Steve is rarely ever at home unless he’s with a woman for the night or hungover in the morning.  

“You sure you want me at your place all weekend long?” Eddie’s giving you an out.  He’s fully aware that the two of you haven’t spent the night together before, and the last thing he wants you to think is that he expects anything from you. 

“Why wouldn’t I? We’ll be super lazy together.  We can watch movies, eat junk food, take naps…it’ll be awesome.”  You look up at him with a giddy smile and Eddie knows he would agree to anything you said. 

“Sounds perfect,” he murmurs against your forehead before pressing two kisses there.

“I parked just ahead in the front row, I didn’t want you to have to go very far but I can still pull the car up here if you feel like you don’t want to go that far.  You must be exhausted.”

He feels his chest warm, you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.  “I’ll be fine, baby.  I can make it.”  He has to work hard to focus on operating his crutches and not your sweet smile, it would be very un-cool of him to fall flat on his face in this parking lot right now.

He manages to make it all the way to your car, putting his crutches in your backseat and hopping over to the passenger side.  You make sure to open the door for him, not moving until you’re sure he’s safe in the seat and buckled up.  You hope he doesn’t think your hovering is annoying.

Eddie thinks your hovering is adorably sweet.  

As soon as you get in and start the car, Eddie asks to see your phone.

“Sure,” you fish it from your purse and hand it to him, “Passcode is 0102.  You gonna DJ?”

“Nope, your car, your tunes honey.  I’m just putting in my address so you know where you’re going.”

“I remember where you live, Ed,” you giggle.  “I’ve been to your place before, remember?”

Of course he remembers, you let him cook you dinner twice and both times you fell asleep in each other’s arms halfway through ‘Back To The Future.’  Maybe this weekend you’ll finally be able to finish it.

“Well, alrighty then.  I’m sorry I ever doubted you, my lady.” You laugh at his dramatics and reverse out of the parking space.

“You’d be wise to never do it again, good sir,” you reply in a medieval accent similar to the one Eddie spoke in.  He’s thankful that you’re distracted by navigating yourself out of the parking lot and not able to see the way his face flushes and his jeans tighten around his groin at your reciprocated dramatics.  You’re so hot when you talk nerdy to him.  You’re so hot all the time.

Eddie sits back and takes in the image of you driving, one he’s never seen before.  He chuckles a bit at how proper you’re sitting, back straight and hands at ten and two on the wheel.  

“Ease up, baby.  You’re not being graded right now,” he laughs.

You laugh along, a little embarrassed. “I know, I drive like a dork.”  You look over at him, exasperated.  “I just don’t feel prepared if I’m slouching or driving one handed!  You never know what could happen.”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like Steve “Mama Bear” Harrington,” he teases.

You scoff and roll your eyes, still smiling.

“Can you put on some music please?  Driving without it weirds me out.”

“Sure,” Eddie chuckles, opening up the ‘Spotify’ app on your phone. “Uh-oh, look who’s in the hot seat now.  Time to take a peek at your ‘On Repeat.’”

You laugh but hold your head up proudly.  “Peek away Mr. Munson.  I’ve got nothing to hide, I am who I am.”

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” Eddie mumbles as he locates the playlist and hits shuffle.  He can’t believe his ears when the opening chords to ‘One Of These Nights” by Eagles play from your speakers.  His head snaps up towards you, and you can’t help but to burst out laughing at the bewildered look on his face.

“You know, I actually feel like a total asshole right now.  This is an amazing song.” He looks at you like he’s proud of you, and your chest feels warmer.

By the time the song is nearing its end, Eddie’s trying to catch his breath from attempting to hit the highest notes and you’re breaking your “ten and two” rule by clutching your stomach because you’ve been laughing so hard that it hurts. 

Eddie vaguely recognizes the next song as a showtune, but doesn’t comment on it because he’s too caught up in you.  

You, still laughing out loud with your widest smile and the setting sun outlining your silhouette in a golden-orange glow.  He can’t believe he’s in your car, that you’re driving him around, the goddess that you are.  You’re ethereal.  Other-worldly.  

You’re starting to look concerned.  

After coming down from your laughing fit, you turn to find Eddie staring at you with a dazed and confused look in his eye.  Being that he’s fresh out of the Emergency Room, you’re instantly a bit concerned for his well being.  

“Eddie?  Are you feeling okay?”

He blinks a few times before responding, “S-sorry, it’s just…you are so goddamn beautiful.”

Will you ever get used to this floaty warm feeling in your chest?  Luckily for you, he says this while you pull your car into his driveway.  You put the car into park, and lean your head back onto the headrest, no doubt sporting a smile that’s as lovesick as you feel.  

You look at him and whisper, “Thank you.”  Shy fingers reach out to take his hand that rests on your center console, and he’s quick to hold on tight.  Without breaking eye contact with you, Eddie brings your hand up to his mouth and presses two warm kisses to your knuckles.  He then uses that hand to pull you towards him, stopping when your faces are only inches apart.  

“Thank you for driving me,” he whispers, unable to look away from your soft lips.  

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, wishing he would just kiss you already. 

Eddie’s loving the effect he has on you.  He notices your chest rising and falling faster, the breathy tone of your voice, the darkness taking over your eyes.  

He finally leans in and presses his lips to yours gently.  This kiss is much softer than your first one, there’s no urgency or tenacity.  This kiss lets you know that there will be many more to come.  You can’t remember a time where you’d been handled any gentler than this.  Eddie’s holding your face like you’re a rare jewel, like you’re priceless and valuable, and he kisses you like he’s trying to worship you.  

It feels like your lips are dancing together, this feels practiced and choreographed and natural.  

You’re so going to fall in love with this man. 

He pulls away after what could’ve been five hours or five seconds, either way it’s far too soon.  Your mouth chases his lips, making him chuckle softly as he drops kisses onto your nose, cheeks, forehead and chin.

You smile, thoroughly enjoying being doted on like this.  

Eddie backs away once and for all, smoothing your hair out of your face with both hands, his smile matching yours.  

“So pretty.”

You blush harder, if it’s even possible, and let out a happy sigh.  

And with both hands on either side of your face, Eddie obviously uses this opportunity to smush your cheeks together so that your lips pucker. 

“Even prettier,” He leans forward and plants one on you, “Let’s get inside, I can hear my bed calling our names.”

He quickly corrects himself when he sees your eyes widen, “F-for a nap!  I’m tired, you’re probably tired.  Nap time.”

Eddie is sure he’s totally mortified you until he spots you trying to hide your bashful smile and pink cheeks as you undo your seatbelt and get out of the car.  Maybe you’d be into more than nap time?  Why the fuck did he call it ‘nap time’?  

You’re an idiot, Eddie.  That’s why.  She’s not going to fuck you while you have a stupid bruised and use words like ‘nap time.’

He’s still shaking his head at himself when you open the passenger door, looking at him expectantly.  Oh that’s right, you’re going to help him hobble to his own front door, because he’s an idiot who dropped a goddamn amp on his fucking foot.

Eddie hits his head backwards on the headrest with a sigh, “I feel so un-cool right now.”

The sound of your laugh eases his pain a little.

“You’ll live.  C’mon, big boy,”  You chuckle, smirking and looking down on him from where you stand outside your car.  

You open the door to the backseat to grab his crutches and your purse, and Eddie starts to question himself as he feels his dick twitch at your use of the new nickname.  Perhaps it’s something the two of you can explore down the line…he needs to stop thinking about sex with you or else he’ll pop a very obvious boner and scare you off.  

A quick recalling of the mental image that’s seared into his mind of Mrs. Bedson, the 57 year old choir teacher, bumping and grinding with the tennis coach at last year’s prom does the trick.  Eugh.  Eddie shivers at the memory.  

You pop back up with his crutches under your arm, reaching your other one down to help him up.  He doesn’t need the help, but he takes your hand anyway because it feels so right to hold it. 

You unlock his front door with his keys, and then the two of you head inside.  After placing your purse on one of the hooks in the entryway while simultaneously toeing your shoes off, you turn to him with a teasing smile.

“Nap time?”

He laughs, “Yeah, yeah.  Nap time.”

TAGLIST:

@twihard28 @daveythorntonslocker @yujyujj @perfunctory-username69 @the-fairy-anon @micheledawn1975 @ches-86 @newsiesjathrine @josephquinnsfreckles @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites

[kissalopa]

I haven't played Sims 3 since I last filled my queue 🙈 I did play a bit to be honest, but it was just a tiny bit, and those screens will only make about 3 or 4 posts, enough for only a day with my queue of 3 posts per day.

I don't really remember why I stopped playing. I played through Blast from the past event in Sims 4 at that time and then I just didn't play both Sims 4 and Sims 3 🤷‍♀️

Since I got a copy of Sims 2 Legacy Collection I am obsessed with Sims 2 🙈 I know I can keep my obsession to myself, but I just can't. I want to share my gameplay with you. It's the most fun for me when I can share. And I love doing it on Tumblr. I know some people prefer to share on Bluesky or Discord and it will be faster and more engaging, but it's not for me. Tumblr is the best and the only fitting option for me ☺️

But now that I already post Sims 4 and Sims 3 on this blog, would be ok to also share my Sims 2 gameplay here? Or will it be too much? Too chaotic? I myself follow all kind of blogs, from Sims 1 to Sims 4. But I know that not everyone likes that. I know that some people prefer to only follow one game. I have mutuals who post several games on one blog and mutuals who have sideblogs for different gameplays of the same game.

I know that it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, but I have doubts. I remember I had similar thoughts when I started posting Sims 3 and then I decided to post everything here on this blog. And I don't regret it, but now that it will be three games I feel like it's a bit too much. But at the same time why would I have Sims 4 and Sims 3 on one blog and Sims 2 on another, makes sense to make a sideblog for Sims 3 too then. But I don't know how will I go about it with a lot of Sims 3 posts already posted, plus some of them have Read More, so I can't just reblog them to a sideblog and delete from here 🤔

Also what if my obsession with Sims 2 (and Sims 3 too) won't last long, those sideblogs would be dead silent. But at the same time everything will be at one place. I don't know 😕

Tbh I am leaning towards the option to keep everything here on this blog. Because right now I am not paying Sims 4, but my blog isn't dead because I post Sims 3. If it was a separate blog this one would be silent. I know that some of you will follow all my sideblogs (I love you, friends 💜 🥰), what's the point in different blogs then 🤷‍♀️

I'm sorry about a wall of text, but I only talk about sims here and I wanted to say what's on my mind. I wanted to add a poll about what's better way to post different sims games, but I think I'll make another post with just a poll, because this post is huge and nobody will read it 😅

[suzukiblu]

Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up. 

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake. 

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble. 

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing. 

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved. 

Reserved for Bruce, even. 

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . . 

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s. 

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing. 

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . . 

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is. 

Not a great sign, that.  

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow. 

Missing. 

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . . 

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being. 

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all. 

"Hm," Clark says. 

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral. 

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates. 

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . . 

Bruce . . . pauses. 

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question. 

It sounds like something, though. 

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?" 

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks. 

He answers the question. 

Bruce's mouth thins. 

Hell, Clark thinks. 

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months." 

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that. 

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters." 

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly. 

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was. 

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway. 

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door. 

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know." 

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks. 

"Sorry?" they say. 

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately." 

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm. 

Clark gets the brain scan. 

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself. 

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him. 

. . . hell. 

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized." 

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?" 

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks. 

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ." 

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again. 

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . . 

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely? 

Abandon Jon entirely? 

Apparently, yes. 

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan." 

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same. 

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably. 

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ." 

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed. 

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old." 

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least. 

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain." 

"What?" Clark says. 

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too." 

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain." 

"Yes," the stranger says. 

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off. 

"We need more scans," Bruce says. 

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?" 

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?" 

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder. 

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this. 

"Fuck," Bruce says. 

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not. 

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it. 

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?" 

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head." 

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . . 

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again. 

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something. 

It's all he can bring himself to do. 

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary. 

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now. 

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step. 

They both look at him. 

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway." 

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?" 

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week. 

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now. 

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head. 

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow. 

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way. 

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted. 

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about. 

So many things. 

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . . 

He couldn't even fight it. 

And he doesn't know what it did. 

The door opens. Diana walks in. 

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks. 

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please." 

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness. 

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute. 

Or twenty. 

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own. 

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . . 

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon. 

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him. 

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time? 

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with? 

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months. 

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag. 

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family. 

Their family. 

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened? 

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die? 

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body. 

There won't be another resurrection.  

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt. 

The guilt is worse. 

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please." 

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course." 

"Thank you," Clark says. 

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all. 

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now. 

What can he? 

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all. 

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him. 

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower. 

Clark exhales, very slowly. 

He waits. 

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him. 

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either. 

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way. 

Clark wonders what happened to his. 

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part. 

Especially not now. 

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches. 

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses. 

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door." 

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today." 

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?" 

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there." 

Lois keeps staring at him. 

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully. 

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt." 

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says. 

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile. 

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known." 

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did." 

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've. 

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again. 

He doesn't deserve it anymore. 

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that." 

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known." 

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again. 

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ." 

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home." 

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no". 

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear. 

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her. 

He doesn't blame her at all. 

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . . 

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer. 

Clark doesn't know how to do this. 

He doesn't . . . 

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on. 

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him. 

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy." 

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight. 

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all. 

Lois watches. 

Waits. 

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps. 

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . . 

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts. 

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere." 

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing. 

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home." 

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . . 

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it. 

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced. 

Clark feels so much. 

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time. 

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet. 

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . . 

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon. 

Just . . . not yet. 

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world? 

Of course they take it in stride. 

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known. 

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for. 

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that. 

Or a lot. 

So, so damn painful. 

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . . 

Jon. 

Obviously. 

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now. 

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway. 

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

[darkphoenix07]

Hi love if requests are still opened may I have an established relationship hongjoong oneshot where reader isolates herself frequently because of mental health and spends a lot of unwanted time in bed because she can’t muster up the courage to get up where hj helps her start her day and stuff?

Hongjong helps you as you isolate yourself often

Masterlist

Series Poll

Mental Health Request

Paring : Hongjong x Reader

Genre : Comfort, Fluff, Romance, Dance

Song 🎶: Everything I wanted by Billie Eilish and Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift

7.00 a.m.

You hear Hongjong entering the house as he parks his car in the garage. You want to get up, run towards him and hug him. You want to break in his arms feeling free as tears leave your eyes. You wish you could get up but it's too hard.

You have been lying on the bed for the whole day like a corpse. He called you a million times for having breakfast but you said you weren't hungry. He left kissing you goodbye, saying he loves you. But you didn't even say love you back. You laid there not moving a single muscle, not taking shower or having food.

Right now you can't feel your body. You don't feel like you are in this universe anymore. The pain, the anxiety, the panic attack have taken over your body suppressing everything.

"Baby, are you home?" His sweet voice echoes in the living room.

You haven't touched him for how long you don't remember. You don't know when was the last time, you kissed him, hugged him properly. Sex is far.

"Baby!" The way he calls you baby. It should pick your body up. You feel guilty for being such a prick. But you can't help. You imagine how he will leave you alone, you'll be able to lay here for the rest of your life until you actually become a corpse.

There looking for you, he enters in your room. Seeing the darkness of your room, the curtains all down, your blanket covering half of your body and you same gaze at the ceiling, he understands you haven't moved from the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" He asks entering as he touches you forehead.

"Hm," you mumble not wanting to get attacked with more questions.

But he notices how messed up your hair is though you aren't warm or cold. You are still wearing the dress from three days ago which means you haven't showered for three days.

You think of the consequences that will occur if he switches on the lights, pulls the blanket off you and starts screaming at you. What will you do?

You wait for it but the lights aren't being turned on, no screaming is around you like it used to happen in your household. Its more quite than usual that you can hear his heartbeat beside yours.

"Can I get inside?"

You would have said no. You would have pushed him away. But the way he asked you, the way he plead like he is asking foe forgiveness that you had to move slightly making space for him.

He gets inside the blanket though you know you stick as bad as a garbage can. He pulls you on his hand, "I want to have dinner outside with you or we can have a terrible cheat day. Only street foods and chocolate or ice cream. What do you say?"

You don't answer him so he looks at you with all of the love he has for you, "Or we can stay here in the bed while I sing for you. Then we can take a shower together while dancing and order dinner. I can make you some too but I am not as good as Wooyoung when it comes to cooking."

You look at him with sleepy eyes. His touch makes you realize how long you haven't slept. Maybe three days or more. It happened without any reason. You don't know why you are feeling like this life doesn't matter or why you don't want to move. You feel heartbroken, guilty for not having a single reason to tell him why you are feeling this much heavy.

"Baby. You'll become sick. I would let you stay here but you look so pale. I am worried," he says pulling you close to his chest, "You know how much I love you, right?"

You wanted to walk up a while ago. But it was just night. The ending of another day you could have spent productively that you wasted. You feel so disgusted by your own self but the man in front of you gazing at you like you are some diamond.

"I don't know what to do," that's when you speak up because you don't want to disappoint him. He has so much patience and hope for you. You understand now that if you speak up maybe he will understand but it's just too hard.

"Will you let me do something for you?" He asks kissing your forehead gently.

You don't say anything as a positive answer and he gets up, "Stay in your little paradise for some moment. I am coming back."

He says and rushes outside. After some while, you hear his car's sound. You don't understand and you forget that you should care after sometimes. You curl around hugging your blanket drowning in your dark side again.

You don't know how long it passes away before Hongjong comes, "I am going to pick you up. Okay?"

He warns you so you can say no if you want to. But you don't say anything or do anything as he cradles you up in his arms and walks outside the room. You notice the lights are all off, there is just the chandelier lighting in the living room.

As he enters in the bathroom of the room you two share, you see there are scented candles on the sink area. He doesn't stop here, he places you inside the tub filled with purple flower petals, you don't understand what flower are these. But the sudden warm water washes thrill over your whole body. You start feeling a little better from the warm water.

He helps you take off the clothes and runs outside again. You start hearing him playing Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift in the background before he enters in the bathroom again with a fruit salad bowl.

He sits outside the tub feeding you the salad, "I thought you may faint so I had to give you some food and suger."

You smile as you keep having the fruits one by one. Some little effort is all you wanted to give to feel better again but it was too hard.

"Join me," you tell him making his eyes go big.

He places the bowl on the sink and makes you stand up, "I have a better idea," and pushes the shower button. Cold water starts washing over both of you and you start giggling seeing him shiver.

It's so adorable yet fascinating how he is looking and acting right now. He holds your one hand and wraps your waist with another, "Let's dance in the rain."

"It's literally summer," you tell him as he spins you while the water of the tub splashes around dripping on the floor.

"Who cares?" He says pulling you towards him and again moving you with him. The dance, the movements, they are so messy yet perfect for your body to feel alive. It's like every cell of your body is waking up one by one.

"Kiss me," he says cupping your face in his hands and your lips find his in no time.

You wish you would have talked about your feelings to him earlier, you wish you wouldn't waste your time, you wish you would kiss him back and say love you back. But it's alright, you tell yourself. It's alright because I can do it now.

"Hongjong," you say as you wrap yourself in the towel and he looks at you.

"I love you," you tell him and his smile gets bigger than ever.

"I love you," he says and pecks you on the lips.

No, you haven't stopped feeling the heaviness yet but you have stopped blaming yourself making it look like a crime for feeling depressed without any reason. Every feeling is precious after all.

For the people who thinks your feelings aren't valid. They are.

[mikerickson]

I worked as a poll worker for the first time yesterday

After the primaries in the summer, our County recognized that they had a poll worker shortage leading into the election this year and started putting out advertisements to bring new people in. I realized that I didn't know literally a single person in my life that had been a poll worker before and that it was something I had always taken for granted. With this looming shortage however, I decided to step up and do my civic duty because why not? After a three hour in-person training session and a two hour online training session, I was ready to go.

More under the cut because honestly some of these interactions with voters are kinda depressing:

I had only signed up to do a half-day shift from 5:15 AM to 1:00 PM because I figured I'd be wiped out and exhausted if I did a whole day. Well turns out that my replacement who was supposed to take up the evening shift never showed up, so I ended up staying. I got to the polling location (a local high school) at 5:00 AM and left at 9:30 PM, effectively working a 16.5 hour day with only a 1 hour lunch break. I'll get a $300 check in two weeks, which, hey, beats jury duty!

By law our polling center was supposed to open to the public at 6:00 AM sharp, but we were scrambling and not ready yet when the vote-before-work crowd started banging on the door. Very stressful start to the morning and we immediately had a big line that didn't dwindle down until about 7:30 AM. I unironically wish I had gotten there even earlier.

Our polling location had four districts, and each district had four workers (two to man the check-in table, one to operate the voting booths and ballot scanners, and one to float/rotate out every so often). I was paired with a man and a woman both in their seventies and a woman maybe in her mid forties, but they were all clearly uncomfortable with technology. Two of the other districts were also staffed by old people who just gave up at the first sign of a problem with a touch screen or a printer jam. I'm talking just a complete lack of problem-solving capabilities. I ended up running triple duty checking people in, making sure voters were set up in their booths properly, and doing on-the-fly tech support and troubleshooting. It felt rewarding multitasking and hearing, "get Mike over here, he'll fix it" over and over, but I kinda wish I didn't have to?

We only had two voters make a scene over the course of the entire day. During the morning rush right after opening a woman raised her voice asking why there was a line and stressing out that she had to leave to go to work soon (she stuck it out in line and then bolted out of there). Later around lunch time a guy at one of the other districts' tables shouted something like, "oh, so my dad can vote here but I can't?" He stormed out in a pissy mood shortly after, but I never got the full story of what was going on there.

I had one man who had recently moved and hadn't updated his registration with the board of elections, so his address didn't match what was on file. I explained that he could still vote if he did a provisional ballot, which is basically like a mail-in ballot that you put in a special envelope and leave at the polling station instead of taking it to a drop-off box. Apparently that was a step too far and he just said, "forget it..." and left. Seemed odd to me that he 1) physically drove to a voting location to vote and 2) waited in line to sign in, but that filling out a single sheet of paper was no longer worth it.

Once we were fully set up and getting into the flow of things most of the delays and reasons for lines were the voters taking too long inside the booths. It was basically a giant touchscreen monitor to select your choices, then you review everything one last time before printing a physical ballot. I had multiple people enter the booth and then wait about five minutes before calling for help saying they didn't know what to do. Also the second page/backside of the ballot was for the local Board of Education candidates, and this was really tripping up a lot of people. Also a staggering amount of people just did not see the giant "NEXT" arrow at the bottom right hand side of the screen. Poll workers are not allowed to enter the booth with them, so I had to do a lot of blind troubleshooting from the other side of the curtain.

Lots of men coming in with their wives and girlfriends and just waiting by the wall while the women voted but they didn't.

There was a smattering of young people, but not many. I did have to turn one girl away who recently turned 18 because New Jersey is not a same-day voter registration state. She was visibly bummed out and I felt bad about that.

Our oldest voter of the day was this ancient Polish woman who didn't speak a lick of English. Her daughter, who must've been in her eighties herself, had to sign a special permission slip to enter the booth with her mother to help. They were in there for a good 15 minutes, but luckily this was during a calm period of the day.

In terms of voter attire, we only had two Harris shirts and one Harris/Walz hat we had to ask people to cover up because that's not allowed within 100 feet of the polling station. Lots of Puerto Rico flags, and one guy had this obnoxious shirt of a coquí painted like the flag that I loved. Also had one man come in wearing a very sharp suit with the loudest red tie I've ever seen in my life who proudly shouted, "Let's make voting great again!" as he left after he finished.

One older Hispanic lady (I think she was Puerto Rican) had very broken English and had to do a provisional ballot for some reason. She was so worried she was going to do it wrong, but I walked her through it with my very broken Spanish and after about 20 minutes she was good to go. She was extremely thankful and gave me a hug.

I had one woman, maybe in her mid-forties, call me over to help when she was inside the booth. She asked, "why are there so many names?" I asked what she meant, and she started listing the down-ballot candidates in the other rows below President and Vice President. She said, "what is 'Senate'? What does that mean?" I explained to her that there were other contests to vote for, and after a telling pause she responded, "...okay..." Not entirely sure I got through to her.

One woman took her very young daughter into the booth with her and a few minutes later called me over. Her screen displayed a "USB device disconnected" error. I looked down and saw that the printer had been turned off. I asked how that happened and the little girl started laughing. Her mother was mortified, but I got them sorted out.

We had one teenager who we had to help insert her ballot into the scanner because her hands were shaking so violently. It was her first time voting and she was extremely nervous. I hope she's doing okay today.

Towards the end of the night this contractor with filthy hands comes in and he's clearly exhausted but wanted to vote anyway. We were shooting the breeze while he signed his voting authority and I said, "I bet I got you beat though, I woke up at 4:30 this morning." He looks up at me and deadpans, "I've been up since 3:30." I yielded and he laughed with me.

Our second-to-last voter of the day was some early-twenties guy who moseyed on in at 7:55 PM (polls legally close at 8:00 PM sharp) and said, "I heard this was going on today." Somehow he was registered and was able to get in and out in no time, but that was just such a casual remark to make that it floored me.

Our absolute last voter of the day was a woman who was on her cellphone the entire time trying to coax her husband - who was in his own car about two blocks away from the sounds of it - to hurry on over before we closed. I could hear him hemming and hawing over it, making some excuse. He didn't make it.

Closing the polls was equally as confusing and stressful as opening them was because there are a lot of very detailed ballot reports to print and specific zip ties with specific barcodes and serial numbers to close up the machines. We were missing a certain lock for the ballot bag that we was preventing all sixteen of us from leaving (no one can leave until all districts at the polling location are ready). Eventually I (because of course it was me) found it in a trash can; someone had thrown it out for some reason but no one owned up to doing it.

As we were leaving and all saying goodbye, some of the other poll workers joked, "see you guys in four years!" I pointed out that there are elections every year, and that in fact New Jersey has a gubernatorial election next year, and some of them basically said, "I didn't know that."

Overall a stressful but memorable day. Today I was talking to some co-workers that voted at different locations within my County (so using the same equipment I was trained on), and they were telling me stories of waiting between 45 minutes to two and a half hours at most. My location never got a line that bad, which maybe had to do with the location I got assigned, but it's also just as possible that me and one other guy around my age (shout out to Giovanni working District 27!) held our shit down and prevented that from happening.

It was a very long day that wiped me out. In a vacuum I don't know that I would want to do it again, but after seeing the incompetence of the standard ilk of poll workers and learning what was happening at other locations, I really feel like I need to. I'd rather these things be run by people like me than not.

[queer-book-character-tournament]

We've run enough of these tournaments that it's probably past time to make a compiled post

Previous winners of the queer book character tournament:

Eric "Bitty" Bittle from Check, Please by Ngozi Ukazu

Wei Wuxian fromMo Dao Zu Shi/Grand Master of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten from All for The Game by Nora Sakavic

Previous winners of the queer book ship tournament:

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji from Mo Dao Zu Shi/Grand Master of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus- The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir (and a second time in 2025)

Also since I'll be pinning this post:

i do want to remind everyone to be respectful in these polls. even if you don’t personally like one of the books listed, or your favorite is losing, someone else still submitted that book because they like it and you’re being rude to them and everyone else who enjoys that book when you’re complaining about it.

propaganda is always welcome and encouraged. i consider these tournaments to be book recommendations first and a tournament second, so i love propaganda and try to reblog as much of it as i can. but propaganda should be about why your book/ship/character is good, not why the other one is bad. that kind of behavior will get people blocked, which is really not something i want to have to do so lets all have fun instead

How the game works:

These tournaments are submission based. I post a form, leave it open for a few days, sort through the answers, and then post a list I half jokingly call quality control for you guys: the viewers at home.

The quality control is because I can’t reasonably have read every book these submissions come from. So I post a list for you guys to let me know any mistakes: characters/ships that don’t meet the requirements, repeats on the list, misspellings (I copy paste from the submissions, so if they’re misspelled and I don’t know the character I’m not going to know to fix it), or anything like that. Quality control is open until the polls actually go up, at which point tumblr doesn’t let polls be edited.

Matchups are randomly generated. This is to keep things fair.

Round one is groups of four and lasts a week to let everyone have a chance to realize the tournament has started and promote their favs.

After that rounds are 1v1 and last for three days (if the number is odd there will be one three way poll).

The final round will last one week.

List of participants in past tournaments starting with most recent (if anyone wants to use this as a reading list) (I'm using the quality control lists to make this lineup since I edit those as you guys tell me, so they Should reflect what was in the tournament at the time without making you guys scroll through hundreds of lines of text to find the tournament you're looking for):

Queer Book Character Tournament 2025

Queer Book Ship Tournament 2025:

Queer Book Ship Tournament 2024:

Queer Book Character Tournament 2024:

Queer Book Character Tournament 2023 2:

Queer Book Ship Tournament 2023:

Queer Book Character Tournament 2023 (the first one!):

[ginevrapng]

𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆!

(𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎)

pairing: george weasley x reader, ron weasley x reader

word count: 4.0k words

content warnings: swearing, british idioms and phrases and slang words, chubby coded! reader, reader not specified what house they were in but at one point they had came into the gryffindor common room(not under normal circumstances like to hangout or sleep), no use of y/n but george sometimes calls the reader shortcake (explained in the last part), mentions of violence after a canon quidditch match,

a/n: this chapter has a lot of talking about the past as i wanted to dig deeper into george and the reader's relationship so far, the next chapter will be completely in current time. this chapter still has ron content (i can't get enough of how i've written ron's dynamic with the reader)

summary: you're an honorary member of the weasley family and have been for years, you're one of ron's best friends and are very close. everyone thinks and teases you both that you're dating or have feelings for each other. this muddles up things as george feels guilty about his own feelings.

<< part three | part one >> | masterlist (check out my poll for this chapter)

the next morning, when you wake up, you see ginny next to you, still asleep, you assume hermione is already up and about. luckily you only drank water near the end of the night so you only ended up tipsy, unlikely you're not a teenager anymore so you still had a small hangover. you miss the days of hogwarts parties when you can drink as much as you want and wake up fine and be able to go to class with no issue. tiptoeing around ginny, trying not to wake her up, you remember what happened at the end of the night and groan, hoping it won't be too awkward today with george.

you successfully leave the room without waking ginny up and decide to see if ron is up or not, doubtful that he is. creeping along to ron's room you step over all the places that creak in the house and softly knock on the door. after no answer you open it a crack to see ron still in bed alone in the room. the logical thing to do would be to let him sleep in, after all he did look after you last night, but it's ron so the only option you deem worthy is to throw yourself over him in bed, knowing your tispy self insisted on cuddles last night.

you mischievously grin and close the door behind you before jumping onto the bed with him and waking him up. ron pulls up his covers in shock making you laugh uncontrollably, "ron you're acting like you're a naked women. is there something you want to tell me?"

he tries to push you off the bed and fails miserably, just causing you to laugh more. he grabs hold of your soft frame and pulls you down to him, making you laugh even louder. "why are you waking me up so bloody early? what did i ever do to you?" he grumbles.

your laughter quiets down as you lay together. "i believe you promised me cuddles ronald."

he holds onto your plush waist tighter, maybe this is ron's punishment towards you, to hold you so tight you break something or just pop. "alright, but shut up. i'm going back to sleep." you're about to argue that it's already late and people are downstairs but harry bursts through the door.

"what's this about then?" harry questions you both.

ron chucks a pillow at him, "shove off, harry." you giggle and move under the covers to get comfier in bed, knowing that ron's going to keep you there for awhile.

"i'll see you two lovebirds later." before ron can tell him to piss off again he slams the door shut, definitely drawing attention.

ron readjusts in bed with you still in his arms. "he's bloody annoying." ron mumbles before he closes his eyes again, resting his head against yours, making you feel safe in his arms with your head on his pillows that smell like him. you weren't initially tired when you came into bed with ron, you just wanted to mess with him but now your eyelids are becoming heavy as you drift off to sleep.

hermione can be absolutely terrifying at times as you're rudely awaken when hermione storms into the room, looking annoyed at you both. however ron seems unbothered by the fact, still sleeping, that is until hermione hovers over the bed and shouts at you both. "get up! both of you! i don't want to believe what harry said he walked in on, if he's telling the truth that's entirely inappropriate but you both look awfully cosy together! everyone is downstairs and has already eaten breakfast." after she see's that you've both waken up she leaves. you dread to think what harry's told everyone but at this point you're use to it. you feel better after your nap, you've found out before that you sleep better with ron next to you and you're no longer hungover either.

reluctantly you head downstairs, much preferring to spend the day in bed. the shouts and laughter that fill the living room fade when everyone see's you both and the onslaught of teasing happens. the comments include fred interrogating you about your, in his words, 'precarious position' due to the fact that anyone could have walked in. harry's saying he regrets walking in, and adding that you looked rather comfortable with all your limbs wrapped around each other.

"how do you even sleep next to him? he snores so loud." harry looked at you quizzically, genuinely confused.

you simply reply, "tune him out."

"oi! you snore louder than me."

"lies," you throw your hands at him in mock offence.

"ron's right shortcake." george tells you from the sofa after staying silent for most of the previous teasing.

"how 'd you know?" slightly worried that you snore so loud everyone knows and will make fun of you for it forever.

george grins at you, you've fallen right into his trap. "i can hear you through the walls."

with an amused smile you make your way over to where he's sitting and flick him on the forehead. "hush you." george's heart skips a beat when he sees the smile you direct at him. as you sit down next to george his cheeks warm up and he tries to hide his smile that appeared on his face because you sat next to him, out of everyone you choose him.

george looks over to ron to see his reaction, half of him wanting to make sure ron's okay with the fact you're sitting next to him but the other half, the half that he's more ashamed of, wants to see if ron's noticed, almost as if he wants to see that ron's bothered by it, to rub it in is face and make him jealous. to show him that you've chosen to sit next to him instead of ron or any of the others. so when he does look over at ron and see's him stealing food from the remains of hermione's breakfast, not even glancing at them, he felt a little conflicted.

"what's up george?" you follow his gaze to where ron is, "is he stealing your food again?"

george smirks at you and ruffles your hair, shaking his head. "nope, just seeing what ronniekins' doing." pouting, you tell him to stop messing up your hair while he chuckles and joins the conversation harry and ginny were having. you deflate as you watch him turn his attention onto someone else so flippantly.

the conversation they're having is supposed to be interesting but it's not to you, no matter how hard you try to get into quidditch you just can't. you're not as bad as hermione is with flying and would love the idea of riding on any magical creatures like dragons or hippogriffs but you worry that a broom will break.

george has reassured you plenty of times that there's no way it'll break but at the end of the day it's a stick and sticks break. you love watching them play, even if you worry that they'll get hurt, and you know the basic rules about the game but conversations about quidditch that don't include your friends you tune out. you'd be listening earnestly to the conversation if it was something about harry or ginny but them talking about the chudley cannons doesn't interest you much.

when ron made the team in your fifth year you were ecstatic, more excited than he was. you knew how badly he wanted to be on the team and you were thrilled, yet you always reminded him to be careful before games and even when training, you wouldn't be surprised if he found your nagging highly annoying.

you'll be able to focus on quidditch conversations if they speak with a lot of passion but right now they're not, you've just woken up and it sounds dull. maybe the conversation will change soon, or maybe molly will come in and interrupt, saving you from listening, and tell everyone they have a job to do or how she's going into town and she's going to ask if anyone wants to come, or maybe ron will start arguing with everyone about how great the chudley cannons are. when your friends passionately talk about something you listen but it's a boring monotonous conversation currently. you love hearing your friends talk passionately about their lives and their interests it's how you're so good at giving everyone presents.

like when harry animatedly told you all about his first christmas at hogwarts, about how he received the invisibility cloak and all the contents in his wizarding cracker. one of those things including a wizard's chess set that was later unfortunately broken and couldn't, at the time, be repaired. so that christmas you brought him a wizard's chess set of his own as he had been using ron's up until that point.

for hermione's birthday one year you gave her a first edition copy of hogwarts: a history. it's always been her favourite book since the first year of hogwarts and she often rereads it. throughout your school years together she retold information to you even when it had very little relevance. you knew how much she loved that book and had been trying to find someone with a signed copy that will sell it to you. after bathilda bagshot died you looked everywhere trying to find any signed copy. you were tempted at the time to ask someone else to sign it, someone that she looks up to like mcgonagall but that was a fleeting thought as you didn't think that idea made much sense. so your plan was to keep on the look out for any copies.

you stumbled on something better one day though while browsing an old bookshop in knockturn alley. you occasionally go there for things you need and you dread to think what would happen if ron found out, even worse molly, they'd insist it's too dangerous and never let you go again, especially on your own.

when flourish and blott's don't have the book you need you know where to go, even if sometimes you have to grab your wand a little tighter to feel safe or that if anyone saw you there they'd be asking serious questions and questioning you on dark magic. however, it's a good thing you do visit having found the first edition copy you had gifted her. you would've haggled the price down a bit after knowing the shopkeeper for so long but the situation was too good even if it was pricey, it's not everyday you come across a first edition copy of such a well known book.

you were probably most proud of the gift you got for george one year. when the whole situation of malfoy insulting the twins cleansweep brooms escalated to insulting the whole weasley family and harry's parents came to a head it wrecked everyone involved (excluding malfoy). the twins and harry had their brooms confiscated due to the fight between them and malfoy.

what made him even more mad was the fact that you were there to witness it happen. george thought maybe it would've been better if you were there to hear exactly what malfoy said but all you saw from the crowd was george and harry punching malfoy repeatedly.

he didn't want to scare you and maybe if you heard what came out of malfoy's mouth you'd think what george did was valid. that's what he had thought until you came barging into the gryffindor common room unannounced, looking absolutely furious screaming about what a fucking arse malfoy is. "do you even know what he said?" angelina asked at the time, knowing that word got around of the fight but not knowing if people knew exactly what happened.

"no but i know it was bloody well something to make everybody that angry!" george couldn't help but smile at that, he'd been so tense and frustrated since it's happened but then you come in and make it all better, getting angry on everyone's behalf and you don't even know what happened. that was when george fell more in love with you then he already was and he didn't think that was possible.

the twins later took their brooms back. they were known for breaking into offices, they should've been kept somewhere more secure if they knew anything about the twins reputation. they took back their brooms and left the school in classic weasley twin style. despite getting their brooms back the incident took a hit on george's confidence. malfoy insulted his entire family and he was so enraged about it.

after the twins left the school year early it was incredibly quiet without them but in the summer it was hectic with them causing even more trouble than normal. one of the hotter days you and george spent the day together inside. everyone was outside playing quidditch but george wanted to stay with you, he told you that he was too tired to play but really he just used that as an excuse to be with you. arthur was at work and molly was in the kitchen, hermione was even outside reading near everyone but you and george stayed in and talked all day. he told you everything about the fight with malfoy, he tried to make jokes and make it seem like not a big deal but you could tell otherwise. even though he was grinning the smile didn't reach his eyes, even though he was making jokes they had a hint of insecurity behind them.

you didn't mention it, you didn't want him to feel put on the spot, but you rested your hand on his arm in comfort and sat closer to him. yes it was incredibly hot at the time but neither of you wanted to move away. he spoke about his broom and about how he won the match even with his broom, behind his words you can tell he held some kind of resentment. he's an excellent beater, better than fred and he should be proud to have won that game, malfoy's ruined it by the aftermath and it's tarnished by all the hateful words malfoy said.

the week after you had brought him a broom. afterwards when you left dervish and banges you realised that you only brought one for george and not for fred and started panicking because there was no holiday coming up, you just wanted to give him a new broom, hoping he would like it but then you didn't get one for fred. your feelings for george at that moment overshadowed any logical part of your brain that told you that you should probably think this through and rethink your purchase instead getting two cheaper ones.

after calming down you had a whole speech prepared in your mind to fred about how sorry you were for not getting him one. making excuses like how fred didn't actually punch malfoy, only harry and george did and harry doesn't need a new broom. other excuses you threw out the window thinking they sounded too harsh, george is a better player then you so he needs a better broom or george is more likely to keep playing now after you've left hogwarts then you will because he's better. after those failed excuses in your head you had scolded yourself on the obvious unintentional favouritism, definitely giving yourself away every time you mention how much better george is. you love fred, you do, but george is george.

coming back to the burrow was somewhat of a spectacle, having to deal with both the twins. fred was the first person you saw and the confusion on his face was evident when he saw you holding a broom, something that you'd never do as he knows you don't trust them. he raised his brow in confusion.

"before you start it's not for you freddie. it's for george." there's a pause as you try to sort out your thoughts and fred smirks. "after what happened with malfoy i thought he could use a new broom. i mean- i mean he was the one who got physical with him and i know harry did too but his broom is already new and i can't afford to get him an even more expensive one."

"woah that's quite the excuse." he joked while smirking.

you cross your arms over your chest, "it's not an excuse, it's just the truth."

"yeah, yeah." he spoke, dismissively. "just know i'm never letting this go."

you rolled your eyes as the hairs on your arm stood up, you had a feeling he was telling the truth. "where's george?" having hoped to run away from the conversation as quick as you can so that fred didn't figure out your romantic sentiment towards george.

he directed you upstairs to their room with a shit-eating grin on his face. you had vowed to blow fred away with an amazing present for christmas but after that interaction you had you were thinking otherwise. (in the end you still did get him a very thought out gift that he thoroughly liked.)

you had knocked on the door, waiting patiently for an answer. george tells you to come in, and his eyes widen in surprise momentarily before he quickly schools his expression because this is the first time you've ever entered his room and you just remembered the same thing as you get distracted about why you're here and instead start taking in the room.

glancing around the room you could see boxes everywhere. cardbox boxes that were taped up with the edges bent and marginally destroyed. fred and george were storing so many products it's a surprise they even had room for their beds. there was a smell that lingered in the air, like gunpowder and cosmetic sprays to try and cover up the scent. you were unfazed by the scene, you would have been more in shock if you walked in and it was a 'normal' room. the smell in the air was making you woozy and flushed as you discovered this is why george almost always smells faintly of gunpowder and you started to find it hard to concentrate being so close to it.

"this is a surprise shortcake, what are you doing in my humble abode?" he inquired, in the process snapping you out of your thoughts. he didn't want you to judge him for what his room looked like, he knew you never would though.

"you know humble abode normally refers to a house?"

"deflecting the question." he sits down on the bed.

having hid the broom behind your back since you knocked, "i brought you something." you tried to answer and sound confident but you know that your voice trembled, you're nervous and you're suddenly liking the floor more than making eye contact with george.

"oh really?" he grinned but his stomach was going crazy and flipping about while his heart bursts out of his chest. you got him something, you, for him. his palms were sweaty and he tried to subtly rub his hands against his trousers.

"i know how shit you've been feeling about malfoy so i-" you found it hard to speak, worried about george's reaction. going closer to the bed you struggled to find the words but reach behind yourself and gave him the broom.

"shortcake, i'm... i- is this a broom?" he knew the response.

you bashfully nodded your head, losing the ability to talk with a dry throat and gently sat on the bed with george but put some distance between the two of you.

you start rambling, "it's um, a- a comet 290. i don't know a lot about quidditch, which you know, but this one looked fancy and it was one of the newer ones that i could afford. i probably should of asked someone's opinion before buying but i hope this one is okay."

"i love it," george whispers, you had never heard him speak so softly to you. sometimes he'll talk gently to you but never like this, never sounding so genuine.

george is so hopelessly and helplessly in love and he was holding on to a very thin thread trying to control himself to stay away from you because all he wanted to do is press his lips against yours, kissing you until you're both gasping for air. your lips always look so soft, he wondered what they'd feel like against his. he wanted to beg you to give him a chance, he'll make you feel beautiful, that you'd be perfect together. the comet 290 is the best gift anyone had ever given him and he's treasured it for years.

currently after that terribly long conversation about quidditch you wish someone could save you from, you decide to save yourself and go find molly. george noticed you leave but assumed you'd be back. you find her in the scullery, washing clothes.

"is there any jobs you need me to do molly?"

"no dear, you sit down and relax."

you're so close to begging and telling her that you just want to get out of listening about quidditch.

"i'll do anything molly. please let me, i woke up so late this morning and couldn't help you tidy up."

she stays silent for a second and then turns to you, "the garden does need de-gnoming at some point."

"yes!" you respond more enthusiastic then considered appropriate before correcting yourself, "yes, molly. i'll get right on it."

"get help from some of the others dear, i don't want you doing it on your own."

[evaskjew]

I'm trying something for fandom artists/writers

Well, as I don't have anyone to tag (I'm really the least sociable person in the world and I'm too scared to talk to people in the fandom 😂), it's up to those who see this post to participate or not (if it turns out that it's not going to take at all, but never mind!)

Well, as my thing is drawing, I'll go with that (but you can adapt it to writing for those who write, or anything else for that matter!)

Last drawing:

Favourite drawing:

Well, I'm cheating, I'm putting two in because I can't choose 😖 On the one hand it's my best pastel drawing (to say it's also my second realistic portrait in colour) and on the other the painting I did with my grandmother and it's also the first time I've done anything other than a portrait in realistic drawing with a background and so on.

Hated drawing:

Right, then. Here again it's hard to put just one. I'm VERY hard on myself and I hate almost all my drawings 🥲 But really, if I have to choose, there are three that I really can't see any more because I find them so horrible.

Future project(s):

Following the poll, I'm going to start working on a new portrait of Garreth.

Next up, why not draw Ominis again (I've taken several in-game screenshots of him that I'd like to do to work on the backgrounds) and I'd also like to draw characters I haven't drawn yet, like Natsai or Amit.

And maybe one day, when I'm bored because I can't find any more images to use as models, I might draw some MCs from in-game screenshots.

And apart from drawing, I'd like to finish writing my OS by the end of the year 😂

Favourite artist:

There are far too many talented people in fandom ❤️

But without hesitation I'd say @tamayula-hl! Long before I dared to post my drawings online, I admired her work so much and even today I jump on every notification as soon as she posts! I know I'll never reach her level but her work is a source of inspiration and motivation (even more so now that I've switched to watercolour and I'm still trying to figure out how to work with colours, the way she works with colour is so incredible 🥰)

And I can't thank her enough for her post showing all the possible angles for Ominis' and Sebastian's hairs, it was so helpful 🙏🏻

And I admire @choccy-milky too! These are the two fandom artists I've been following since I started on Tumblr a little over a year ago 😄

One or few points on which I would like to improve:

First of all, I've managed to stop transferring the outlines of my drawings. Yes, it's a bit cheating to transfer, I know. But if I don't do it, the proportions are going to be catastrophic and that's going to piss me off (long live my perfectionism) and I'm going to stop and stubborn as I am coupled with my lack of self-confidence, I'm never going to want to draw again. So for the time being, we're going to keep tracing 😅 We'll see what happens in time.

But most of all, I'd like to stop depending on images I find on Pinterest or Tumblr and just reproduce them as drawings. I'm incapable of doing anything other than faithfully reproducing an image 😢 It annoys me, because I'd also like to post lots of drawings of my MC Evangeline interacting with other characters 😞 And the worst thing is the difference in my drawing level when I do something that doesn't depend on a reference image! (the proof: my drawings of Evangeline and this drawing of Ominis)

I took it upon myself while writing this post and forced myself to do a drawing of Evangeline in 20 minutes without a model (I just traced a neutral pose from a drawing dummy to have my base and improvised from my watercolour of Evangeline for her outfit).

You be the judge:

The end of her leg and her shoe is a disaster 😭

Well, that's that. I don't know how it's going to turn out and whether any artists/writers are going to take part, but it was a fun post to make!

[kawaoneechan]

(Long post, there's a poll at the end.)

So just now @lahnsette-maekohlira linked me to an article about Hello Kitty Island Adventures, which does two things Animal Crossing doesn't: playable animal characters and unlimited inventory.

That was meant as suggestions for Project Special K.

The former I shan't go into again.

The latter, though? I dunno. It sounds nice to have unlimited inventory space, lord knows I've had to clean out my storage space on ACNH last night as I ran dangerously close to full capacity. But then I saw this screenshot:

That... does not look like it'd handle carrying a hundred items well.

In Animal Crossing New Horizons, by contrast, the inventory window is not a plain list but a grid, you can place items anywhere on that grid, and acquiring a new item places it on the next open spot. The storage screen however is... a big ol' scrolling list of icons with a sort button. Like in HKIA, but importantly it also has a categorization system so you can drill down at least that much.

It'd be easy enough to switch Project Special K from the current ACNH-like system to an HKIA-like system. I don't have a UI for either inventory or storage yet, so there's little to lose here. But I don't much like how HKIA seems to do it.

So I figured... why not have unlimited storage that you can, under specific circumstances, access from the inventory screen?

See, in Day of the Tentacle you played as three separate kids. Bernard in the present, Hoagie 200 years in the past, and Laverne 200 years in the future, each with a time machine modeled after an outhouse.

You can send items from one kid's inventory to another by literally flushing them. The easiest way to do that is to click "Give", then the item, then the portrait of the recipient. "Give can opener to Laverne", for example. But you can also do it the silly person's way:

Walk over to the Chron-o-John.

Put the can opener into the bowl.

Switch to Laverne.

Walk over to the Chron-o-John.

Take the can opener from the bowl.

And now you have to walk all the way back to where you're supposed to use the can opener.

And the trick is, because of plot reasons Laverne initially can't get to her time machine. She can gain access to one part of the map or the other, and if she's in the one she can't send or receive items because the time machine is in the other... until she gets a disguise and can walk around freely. Almost. There's a single last puzzle until she can go upstairs. It's why I didn't write "one half of the map".

What's all that gotta do with Animal Crossing, Hello Kitty, or Project Special K?

Easy.

If you are in your own home and open the inventory, it's not that weird to imagine popping off to the storage in the middle of inventory management. After all, in ACNH you can access your home's storage at home.

If you're outside and there's a storage container somewhere outside, the same thing applies. After all, in ACNH you can access your home's storage from a container. For PSK, let's just pretend there is one.

But if you're on a mystery tour, or in someone else's house? You can't access your storage, so opening your inventory does not let you switch to your storage and take out and put away items on the fly.

Which means when you're about to travel and the guy asks if you have everything you need, you still need to be sure you do. If you find yourself at a birthday party, you better have done what you should've and brought a present, cos you won't be able to pop off without angering someone.

And the important bit is that it's not your inventory that's unlimited but your storage.

Like this:

So here's the obligatory poll.