#will be returning each month when i post these

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

The Return of Superman- Jaemin

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, children)

Jaemin liked his privacy. He liked knowing that only certain parts of his life were shown, certain parts he shared, he liked having the clear distinction or public and private. He, of course, enjoyed providing content for his fans and living a dream that millions of people could only dream of.

He got the best of both worlds. He got to date you for a good few years without getting caught, he'd spent two years of newlywed marital bliss with you with only so much as a statement from his company to let the world know that he was a married man. When he was asked about you, his wife, he merely smiled and expertly evaded answering. So how did he get himself here?

What had happened in his years of famous privacy to now allow a whole camera crew into his home to film him and his daughters-- who, no one had even seen since they were posted with obscured faces in a birth announcement post 3 years ago?!

It had definitely been his management that suggested he do the show, they planted the seed in his brain, but it was you who pushed him to do it! "Come on, my love, the fans will love it. You can do just one episode and then the girls won't be seen until their 30! Come on, it'll be fun," You'd convinced him. And Jaemin, well, he wasn't a strong man when his wife was whispering so sweetly in his ear and pressing even sweeter kisses against his cheeks.

So that's how he got into this mess, at least he would have you to help him out... right, he wouldn't. Damn this show!

-

"Would you stop rubbing your head against the pillow, please?! Appa just did your hair!" Jaemin yelled in exasperation, his eyes locked on the three year old who for some reason was rubbing her head across the pillows on his bed. Meanwhile, his hands were preoccupied with the identical girl standing on a stool right in front of him.

"Well, what an introduction to the Na family," a commentator laughs while they all watch Jaemin struggle to pull one of his daughter's hair into a bun while simultaneously also trying to sweet talk the other twin to stop being a menace. He was unsuccessful.

The scene cuts to show Jaemin sitting in front of a black backdrop smiling at the cameras as he introduces himself, "Hello, I'm Na Jaemin from NCT. I have twin daughters, Taera and Sora. They're both 3 years and 5 months old and the light of my life-- along with my wife, of course. Taera is the older of the two and struggles with listening, at least to me while Sora is the better listener of the two."

The producer behind the camera asks a question and Jaemin listens intently before answering, "honestly, of the two of us, I'm the parent that let's the girls get away with a lot. She plays the authoritarian role, which admittedly, I struggle with. The girls are just too cute to get mad at!" He takes a break to think over his answer, "I do think it will be a little difficult with it being just me and the girls. Usually my wife and I are each responsible for one of the girls, and we rarely go out just one of us with both of them. It will be very interesting to see how this plays out."

-

The scene cuts to a scene of the toddlers running around the living room, hair done in tiny buns on top of their head, looking messy, though no one can tell whether that's from their running around or their dad's lack of skill. Jaemin can be seen scrambling around the kitchen filling matching purple and pink water bottles with water and tossing snacks into the bags.

"I wonder what Jaemin is getting the girls ready for..." One of the commentators adds as the girls play tag with each other, giggling wildly.

There's nothing telling quite yet, both girls are wearing matching pastel pink shirts and pink sweat pants with white socks. Jaemin wrestles them into sweaters, then their backpacks, and finally their matching Crocs. He holds one twin on each hip, making his way to the car to load them into car seats.

"Wow! He's a professional! Look at the way he carries both of them at once!" A commentator exclaims in wonder.

"Wait a second, this song sounds familiar," Another commentator adds quickly. The panel quiets down, all eyes locked on the screen to watch the girls dance around in their car seats.

"Chew-chew-chew-chew chewing gum! Chew-chew-chew-chew," the girls chant, legs kicking out as they wiggle and dance in their chairs. They look so happy, smiles plastered on their faces and Jaemin, he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else right now. His face is set in a mild frown, listening to this repetitive song that he made when he was 16.

-

The scene changes, showing Jaemin helping one of the girls into a tutu while the other, who is already dressed, twirls around laughing as her skirt flares out. "Oh my! The girls are in ballet! How cute!" One of the producers coos.

Jaemin can be seen sitting in front of the black screen once more. "Oh yes, the girls are trying out ballet. We want to get them more involved in other activities and find some way to get their energy out. They're not very... good yet, but it is only their third lesson. I think Sora might be more of a ballerina in the future, and maybe Taera will be better at something more... energetic."

True to his word, the scene cuts to show a very focused Sora following her dance teacher's instructions. Her arms are posed in front of her while in the first position. She listens intently and copies the teacher's moves, she wiggles her feet out until they point outward and extends her arm.

"Good job, Sora. That's perfect!" The teacher praises softly. Sora giggles excitedly, a blush spreading across her small, chubby cheeks.

On the opposite end of the room, her twin is jumping and reaching for the small window that allows parents to look into the small studio. Jaemin is busy taking pictures of Sora among other adoring parents to send to you when he hears a familiar sound, even muffled he'd know that sound anywhere. He casts his eyes down and catches Taera with tears in her eyes and red cheeks with her arms reaching for the window.

Jaemin jumps into action quickly, moving his way through the small group of parents around the window and enters the small room with a look of concern on his face. Taera has never reacted like this before. He pulls Taera into a hug, calming her down until her tears have stopped. He sends an apologetic smile to the teacher and she sends him a small bat of her hand as if to say, 'it's fine.' Jaemin cups Taera's face, wiping away her remaining tears with the pads of his thumbs, "princess, what's wrong?"

She lets out a shuddery breath, her tiny chest trembling while she tries to breathe in a deep breath, "I want Mama to watch me too."

Jaemin feels his heart break, pouting sympathetically at his daughter, "I want her to be here too, princess, but she'll be back before you know it. Tomorrow we can wake up early and make breakfast for her when she gets back. How does that sound?"

"With berries?" Taera asks with wide eyes.

Jaemin laughs softly, booping the girl's nose, "yes, with berries. Now, go be a good big sister and dance with Sora. We can't leave her alone can we?"

"No," She smiles, turning to run to her sister's side before she comes bounding back to Jaemin. She presses a kiss to Jaemin's cheek, "love you, Appa. Stay with us?"

Like Jaemin said, he can never say no to them. Instead of joining the rest of the parents on the other side of the small window, he finds himself following along with the teacher's instructions behind the rest of the children in the class.

His daughter's turn to look at him with the biggest smiles he's ever seen. They're so excited that he's in class with him and even more so, doing the dances with them!

The commentators coo at the scene, gushing over Jaemin being such a good dad. He raises his arms, drops them, extends them forward, and situates his feet into the right positions to follow along with the teacher.

At the very end of the episode and his girls sit in front of the black backdrop. The girls raise their arms over their heads, forming the biggest hearts their little bodies will allow. In unison, all three Na's scream out, "we love you Mama!"

Jaemin leans forward, getting close to the camera with his arms wrapped around the twins to keep them from falling, "you're not allowed to leave me alone with these monsters ever again!"

The girls giggles persist as the episode fades away, a faint, "but Appa you said we're princesses."

"Yes, baby I did say that. You're like monster princesses, do you like that?"

The girls can be heard screaming a loud, "no!" in perfect harmony.

[silcoitus]

I love all your fics sm, could you possibly write reader comforting silco after his lil breakdown in s1ep6?

ngl i feel like I'm Silco in this one and I need a reader to fix me

Because this is a request, I am posting the full text. In one month, it will be converted to an AO3 link, so read it here now while you still can!

Broken

Masterlist | AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: Silco x gn!reader; angst; hurt/comfort; emotional hurt/comfort; established relationship

Word count: 1.1k

Betas: @medic-simp @juniper-sunny

He told you not to come with him. To stay behind in case Jinx returned. 

You didn't like what you were seeing—the way he was starting to unravel at the ends, his perfectly manicured facade crumbling with each hour his daughter was missing. You had this feeling in your gut that it was all about to go sideways, that something awful was going to happen.

But you couldn't stop him.

So you stayed in his office, sitting in his chair and staring out the large circular window. Watching his figure striding with purpose on the streets below to disappear from your view.

Maybe you were wrong.

Maybe he would find her and bring her back home.

Maybe everything was going to be okay.

But you couldn't shake the feeling.

That this was the beginning of the end.

There's a steady thumping sound as your heel taps along the hardwood, knee bouncing erratically as you wait.

Sure, you have things you could be tending to, but your mind is elsewhere—it’s with Silco.

Will he find her?

What will happen if he does?

You could tell by how he had spoken of her recently that his grasp on her was slipping away, her attention instead on the sister she thought dead for years. Despite raising Jinx as his own, Silco could not fight the bond shared by blood—and it was driving him mad.

You don't move from your perch for a full hour. And even then, you only rise to your feet to pace the empty office, one arm barred across your stomach as the other crosses your chest, your front teeth making short, quick clicking sounds against the tip of your thumbnail. 

A nervous habit.

One Silco hated.

But he's not here to tell you to stop.

So you keep doing it.

Waiting.

Mealtime comes and goes without any change. Your stomach protests, but you ignore it. You've taken to searching Silco's desk, hands frantically rummaging through his things to see if there could be any clue as to where his daughter had disappeared to.

None of her old drawings give you any answers, a tidy pile of them in his bottommost desk drawer. And no amount of rifling through the contents of the safe (the one hidden behind the painting whose sole keepers are Silco and you) lead to any revelations.

You’re moments away from leaving to check Jinx’s workshop when the door to the office opens. Not with a bang, but with a slow, drawn-out creak.

You have one sleeve of your coat on when you look up to see Silco's figure standing in the doorway. His hair is a matted mess against his forehead, his makeup smeared with sweat, revealing the decaying, grey skin around his corrupted eye. There's dust and grime all along his coat, vest, and pants, and blood on his gold-toed boots.

“What happened?” you gasp, ditching your coat to the couchback in favor of running toward him. “Are you okay?”

He ignores you, shuffling past you. When he flops himself onto the red velvet cushions, puffs of dirt dance in the air to settle around him. Staring ahead of him, he seems devoid of light; you could almost swear that the glow of his volcanic orange eye seems dimmer.

“Silco…” you whisper, crouching to get eye-level with him.

He looks through you, the iris of his ruined eye drifting almost lazily, with none of the vigor you've come to know. 

You take both of his hands in yours, resting them on his lap as you study him. There's a tapestry of textures along his skin, dirt and grime and shimmer and blood. You squeeze his hands as your lips press together, waiting.

You never know what Silco you're going to get: the loud, snarling, erratic beast, all roars and teeth; or the silent, fuming, cold statue, impossible to read and even more impossible to crack. You've seen every side of this man, every emotion, every reaction. 

But still, sometimes, you struggle to know how to handle him. How to help him. 

It took you many years and many fights to realize that, most times, he simply wants you to listen.

So you wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Your knees are sore from where they dig into the rug, both your feet fallen asleep long ago. But you stay rooted to the spot, resolutely, dutifully holding his hands as he stares straight ahead. You wonder what thoughts are swirling in that head of his, what calculations he's running, what strategies he's testing and retesting. 

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“She's gone.”

You bite your tongue, allowing him to talk.

“I've lost her.” His voice feels so far away despite being right in front of you. A ghost of a whisper. A light, almost imperceptible breeze. “And I don't know if I can get her back.”

At last, his eyes move. They almost seem to stutter as they cast slowly—so slowly—down to meet your gaze. And when they lock with your eyes, you have to hold back a small whimper from escaping your lips.

Broken.

He looks so broken.

You've never seen him this bad before. In all your years—first under his employ, then as his partner—he’s never been this far gone. You could always count on a small, stubborn spark behind his eyes.

But that little flame is gone.

Replaced with deep obsidian, heavy and impenetrable.

“Oh, Silco…” you whisper, bringing one hand up to cradle his scarred cheek. 

Your touch breaks him further, cracking the dam of his resolve.

His good eye squeezes shut and his hands come up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he doubles over. 

He doesn't cry—you’ve never seen him cry. Instead, he tugs at his hair, his hands shaking and his breath quickening. His whole torso seems to almost vibrate with how he shakes under the massive weight of his grief.

You rise to your feet, a soft reassuring hum at your throat as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him toward yourself. The crown of his head presses to your stomach and he feels stiff in your arms, awkward and unresponsive. Rubbing circles into his back, you make soft cooing sounds as you try to calm him down, feeling so helpless.

“It's okay,” you whisper. “I've got you.”

Finally, he releases his hold on the graying tendrils of hair, his head pressing against you earnestly as he wraps both arms around your middle tightly. You return the embrace, your eyes squeezing shut as a tear escapes them. 

How you wish you could take this grief from him, endure it for him. You would suffer this pain tenfold if it meant he didn't have to.

But as you hold him in your arms, you know this is something he must overcome himself.

And when you feel warmth against your stomach—a faint dampness to the fabric of your shirt—you wonder if you'll ever be able to bring back that spark. 

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @constantfragmentation @ariaud @jennrosefx @steponmesilco @leave-me-alone-silco @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @you-never-talk @noposwe @toripandashady @sirenofzaun @22carolina08 @roxnpens @commanderblood @medic-simp @cthezaunite @verdant-onyx @ursawastricked @artwithvivien @edlix @lackofhonor @spoczkot @witchypandamonium @lotus-99 @robin-the-enby @blissfulip @all-that-we-hope-to-be @zaunite-leo @silvia-elaine-hestia @nyx2021 @cccandynecklaces @another-batkid @toogaytofunctiondangit @rinkatai @mollymauksboi @pinklunarprincess | @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @witheringblooddemon @ladymer @redlovett

[rowdyluv]

can i request 7g with quinn she/her please🥺

Prompt: “Don’t cry. God, please don’t cry. I hate seeing you like this and not being able to do anything.”

Warnings: anxiety, panic, hints at bad past, wrote & posted no editing (So I re-read it and saw how yucky it looked so it’s semi edited)

Y/n boss appeared at the edge of her cubicle with a sly smile edging his face and his tie slightly askew. "Y/n," he called out, his voice cutting through the low murmur of the office. "I need to see you in my office right away." Her stomach plummeted. If she wanted to make it downtown to Roger’s without any trouble she needed to leave in exactly two minutes. Any later she would be fighting the surrounding area schools.

The office was a blur of desks and faces as she tried to keep her breath steady, trying to not let her anxiety rile her up. What could he possibly want? He hadn’t spoke to her in the last 8 months since she had started dating Quinn. She had been excluded from all other meetings, why now?

Inside his office, he gestured to the chair opposite his desk, his expression unreadable. She sat down, her hands fidgeting in her lap as he closed the door behind her. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "I know you requested to leave early, Y/n," he said, his eyes closing briefly as he slowly breathed out a sigh. "But I have a... document that requires your attention."

“My…my att..attention?” She stuttered out with growing anxiety. “Can I do it tomorrow? I..I’ll come in early? Stay late?” She asked quietly sitting on the edge of her seat.

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “I��m afraid it’s rather urgent. It shouldn’t take long. But it’s something that requires your immediate and professional attention.” He said with a rigid tone that left no room for argument.

Y/n’s shoulders slumped as she nodded reluctantly. She could feel the minutes slipping away, each one lowering a heavier weight on her chest. She returned to her desk, her eyes scanning the email. The document was pages and pages of information. “Shouldn’t take long” she muttered to herself. If she worked carelessly it wouldn’t take long, but if she worked as she’s known to it would take her at least two hours to get through it thoroughly. Her mind was racing with the thought of Quinn and his family waiting for her at the arena, wondering where she was.

With trembling hands, she began to work, her eyes darting back and forth over the screen. Her heart felt as if it was in a vice, each beat a painful reminder of the promise she was about to break. The words and numbers started to blur together as she rushed through the text, making mental notes and trying to ensure she didn’t miss any crucial details. The longer she was stuck at her desk the less she cared about her job. She was worried about letting Quinn down, him being disappointed in her, him being mad at her.

Y/n shot off a message to Quinn once she sent an email back to her boss of the finished document. The clock read 6pm, her thumbs moved frantically over the screen as she typed. "Leaving the office now…hope to be there soon! I’m so, so sorry." She sent it with a heavy painful sigh, knowing it was probably too late. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears, and she took a deep breath to compose herself. She couldn’t let her anxiety ruin this for her, not when Quinn had been so supportive of her through all of her mental health struggles.

The city streets were a sea of red brake lights and honking horns. Each minute that passed felt like an eternity. Her chest tightened, and she rubbed her hands over her face, wishing she could just will all of the cars in front of her to move. "Come on," she murmured under her breath desperately her eyes darting to the time. 7:23pm. She quickly typed out another message to Quinn, her heart racing. "I’m so so sorry I’m late. I hope I make it by the start of the second. Traffic's a nightmare.."

Not long after the message sent, her phone was ringing with an incoming call, and she saw it was Quinn. Her hand hovered over the answer button for a second, dread mixing with anticipation. "Hello?" she answered, her voice shaky.

“Y/n.” He sounded relieved. “It’s intermission, they said you never picked up your ticket. Are you okay?” He rushed out. Y/n knew he must of fought his coaches to call her. He never uses his phone during intermissions. She had only been messaging him out previous relationship habits.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m…” She trailed off looking up the highway of bumper-to-bumper traffic. “I’m still stuck in traffic. It’s so bad, I don’t think I’ll make it, Q.. I’ll just..I’ll just go wait for you at your apartment. I’m so sorry, Quinn. I know this game means so much to you and your family. I messed up,” she said, her voice cracking with regret.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll see you after. Be careful sweet girl.” Quinn softly says to her in the sweet tone he gives only her.

★★★★

By the time she arrived at Quinn’s luxurious apartment there were only moments left in the game. She not only missed it live in person but also televised. The elevator ride to the top floor seemed to drag on forever, each floor number lighting up with a painful slowness. She stepped out into the hallway, her feet echoing against the hard floor. She fidgeted with her keys, trying to find the right one to unlock the door. Her hands were trembling so badly she could barely hold onto them. With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her anxiety was an ugly, ugly thing.

The thought of him expecting her to be there, only for her to miss, brought a lump to her throat. She sat down on the plush couch, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them tightly. Her mind raced with scenarios of his disappointment and anger, each one more intense than the last. Each scenario ended differently but each had the common denominator of him expressing his disappointment in her. Something about the thought of him saying the phrase ‘I’m disappointed in you, Y/n.’ Made her dizzy, made her nauseous, made her feel like she had committed the most audacious crime. The quiet was deafening, and she found herself holding her breath, waiting for the moment he would come through the door and throw his anger at her.

★★★★

Quinn’s heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she felt a new surge of panic. She leapt to her feet, her heart racing as she rushed towards the door. She threw it open just as Quinn was about to push his key inside the door knob. With wide eyes and erratic breathing, she flung herself at him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “I’m so sorry, Quinn, I got held up at work and the traffic was horrendous! I tried, I swear, I really, really, reaaalllyy did. I wanted to be there so badly!” she babbled out in a rush.

He looked at her with surprise in his eyes before a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He gently wrapped his arms around her, lifting her just enough off the ground to walk inside, “It’s alright, it’s okay,” he murmured soothingly, his breath warm fanning against her ear. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He set her down gently on the couch taking a spot right beside her and she felt a little calmer just by being in his space. Quinn sat so close to her, trying to give them a little bit of privacy. What little they could earn with his parents and brother standing feet away. Y/n took a deep breath, preparing for the blow that would never arrive.

"Pretty girl, why are you crying?" He whispered, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I’m not mad at you, I promise." His eyes held contact with hers, filled with concern and confusion. Y/n sniffled, trying to compose herself. "I..it's just that… It’s just I missed a game you really wanted me to be at. One we’ve talked a lot about. You might not be made, but I wanted to be there for you," she managed to get out, her voice cracking with emotion.

Quinn’s face softened, and he pulled her into his chest, her head resting snuggly against his chest. "I see… You’ve labeled it was important to me because I was playing, but honey it’s just a game. It’s seeing my family that’s important. Them seeing you too. That’s why I wanted you there. I wanted to look up and see you cheering for me and my brothers next you mom.” He explained rubbing her back in an assuring way. “So, next Hughes Bowl is in Jersey and I will be fixing your arrangements first thing Monday morning. Right now? I’m more concerned about you than a silly hockey game." He kissed the top of her head, his hands rubbing circles into her back. "You’re here now, thats what is important."

Y/n looks up at him, placing her chin on his chest. A couple stray tears slipping down her face.

"Baby, please don't cry," Quinn murmured, his voice thick with concern. "It kills me when you cry."

Y/n sniffled, her eyes meeting his. "They're happy tears, I promise," she said with a wobbly smile. "I'm just so... thankful that you're you. That you understand."

“I’m nothing like anyone you’ve been with before me. I take care of you, of us.” Quinn affirms wiping her cheeks. “Now come meet my momma before she interrupts us to introduce herself.”

[mscryinglighting]

hello, would you do an alex turner x musician reader? she's just as famous with a solid fanbase, and they get a lot of media attention and even called a power couple of some sort. yet behind closed doors they're like any ordinary couple that love each other the most and doesn't care about what other people say about them? basically lots of fluff. i hope this makes sense! <3

Between The Chords

Alex Turner x musician!reader

Word count: 1.1K

a/n: Thank you sm for this request!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The paparazzi's camera flashes momentarily blind you as you exit the airport, arm in arm with Alex, you try to speed walk through attempting to reach the car in one piece, all while the shutterbugs yell things like:

“Do you think you’ll be up for a BRIT this year?

And

“Y/n, any thoughts on the criticism of your new single?”

“These paps seem tame enough, non invasive especially for LA’s standards.” You thought, though their relentless camera flashes were starting to turn your mild headache into a full on migraine. You were fairly new to the scene, your debut album having blown up a little over a year ago, Alex on the other hand was slightly more well versed in the music industry, maybe that was what drew you to him -his experience- he’s become sort of a lighthouse keeping you afloat among the madness.

After what felt like an eternity you finally reach the car. Alex, ever the gentleman, holds the car door open for you, once you’re in he climbs in next to you, his fingers naturally finding yours, intertwining them as the car eases forward.

“God, I have such a headache,” you groan, burying your face against his neck.

“Oh, me poor baby,” Alex teases, smirking. “Need some Aspirin?”

“Shuddup.” You grin despite yourself. It’s like his superpower—making you smile through anything.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of raindrops against the windshield make the drive almost peaceful. Alex’s thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand, his warmth lulling you into a half-daze. Before you know it, the car slows to a stop outside your place.

“You alive, love?” Alex murmurs, squeezing your hand.

Barely. You just want to crawl into bed—but with him, of course.

Inside, the familiarity of home washes over you. Despite four months of touring, you both fall into your usual routine like no time has passed. Instead of unpacking like a responsible adult, you strip down and slip into a pair of Alex’s boxers and his hoodie—your real post-tour uniform—before heading downstairs.

Alex is already in the kitchen, and you watch him from the couch, your favorite spot for early morning and late-night admiration.

“Whatcha makin’?” you call, arms draped over the back of the couch. The open layout of your home—a design choice you hadn’t realized you’d love so much—means you get a perfect view of him moving around the kitchen, a bonus you fully take advantage of every time he makes breakfast shirtless.

Alex returns from the kitchen, a steaming mug in hand. “Doctor’s orders,” he jokes, handing it over with a lopsided grin. “Drink up before your headache gets worse.”

You take a sip, the warmth spreading through you. “When did you get your medical degree?”

“Oh, love, I��ve been a specialist in you for ages,” he quips, nudging you playfully.

“Stop it.” You blush bashfully, hiding your face in his chest.

He chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before reaching behind the couch to pull out his guitar. “Mind if I play some tunes?”

“Now?” You raise a brow, amused. “You just survived an eight-hour flight, and you still have energy for this?”

“Yes, now while I still have my gorgeous muse beside me.” He starts to strum out a tune on his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced ease until he reaches the F Major, the one chord that always seems to trip him up.

You’re playing it wrong,” you say, watching him fumble with the chord.

“I am Alex Turner, y’know.” He says smugly while still trying to perfect the chord.

“Then act like it,” you tease, playfully nudging his shoulder. You set your mug down before briskly taking the guitar to show him how it's done. 

“Look,” you say, shifting closer, “put your index here, and your middle on this string—like this.” You guide his fingers into place, your hands lingering over his.

He looks up at you, his eyes glinting under the warm glow of the lamp. “What would I do without my genius of a girlfriend?”

Alex strums the chord again, this time getting it right transitioning into a melody. It’s slow, almost hypnotic, and then he starts singing—low and soft, just for you.

You rest your head against his shoulder, letting his voice wrap around you like a warm blanket.

“You falling asleep on me already?” Alex murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair.

“M’not,” you mumble, but your body betrays you, melting further into him.

He chuckles. “That’s what they all say before they start drooling on me hoodie.”

You swat at him weakly. “I do not drool.”

“Right. Just like I don’t mess up F Major.”

You groan, hiding your face against his chest. “I regret helping you.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice is warm, teasing. “And you love me.”

You huff, but your sleepy smile gives you away. “Yeah, yeah.”

Fame could be loud. But moments like this? This was what really mattered.

Speaking of fame, the airport paparazzi pictures have already been posted to social media, both your fandoms were going absolutely berserk over the images. Since Alex was a grandpa about social media you had to read out all the comments to him. Well maybe only the nice ones.

“Wanna hear what the internet has to say about us?”

He hums, strumming idly on his guitar. “Oh, go on then. What’s the verdict?”

You clear your throat and read dramatically, “‘Rock’s Most Stylish Couple Spotted in L.A.: Y/N Stuns in Casual Chic While Turner Keeps It Classic.'"You glance down at yourself—his hoodie and boxers, your hair still slightly messy from the flight. “Casual chic, huh?”

Alex looks over, eyes flicking lazily across your outfit. “Yeah, proper high fashion, that.”

You snort, scrolling down. “Oh, this one’s good—‘Alex Turner and Y/N Y/L/N prove once again they’re the definition of couple goals.��” 

Alex smirks but doesn’t look up from his guitar. “Ah, well, hate to break it to ‘em, but we’re actually a disaster behind closed doors.”

You roll your eyes, scrolling further until a tweet makes you burst into laughter. ‘Alex and Y/N are real-life couple goals. If they ever break up, love isn’t real.’

You turn to Alex, raising a brow. “No pressure or anything.”

Alex finally stops strumming and squints at your phone. “They’re putting that much faith in us?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you tease. “Apparently, we’re single-handedly holding the concept of love together.”

Alex sets his guitar aside and tugs you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “Well then, guess we’ve got no choice, love.”

You grin, leaning into him. “Guess not.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

a/n: Hope I did this amazing request justice! I had so much fun writing this, and I truly appreciate all the love and support. Also, part 2 of ‘The AM Effect’ is in the works—I can’t wait to share it with you all soon!

[wingzie]

Home - Mi Casa

On 20th December, my flat flooded. This was due to a fault in the flat above, which caused water from their boiler to vastly flow into my flat. This happened for about six hours until someone came to fix the problem. The only way I can describe it is like watching a waterfall of warm water cascade across my entire flat. It will probably come to no surprise that, after the event was over, my flat was deemed unlivable due to the water damage. I have since also had to throw out most of my furniture and belongings. After having a somewhat stressful Christmas at my Mother’s, I came back knowing that I was effectively homeless and I have been living at a hotel for over a month now. My current stay is until the end of March, but I have been warned that the work in my flat might take up to June to complete. Which is somewhat poetic, if it will take that long. All of this has got me thinking about one thing though: What classes as a home? I have mentioned before how, due to my parents work, my childhood involved moving location every couple of years. I thought this was “the norm” and just went along with it. Even when my parents divorced. When my Mother wanted to move closer to her own family, she asked if I wanted to move to somewhere near her. Or stay closer to work. I chose the later option and found a lovely place to rent near work. Where I had just been promoted at the time. Things were going well and I wanted to use this opprtunity to start my own life.

Lockdown happened shortly afterwards, so I missed a big chunk of getting to know the area and the local people. However, I made up for it later on with community work and have since made some amazing friends. These include army and non army and this is where I consider myself very lucky. Though I am still having nightmares and my mental health isn’t the greatest right now, the kindness of people around me since the flood has been incredible. 

I have several colleagues who fight over who will do my washing or bring me meals. Some friends have invited me to their houses. The belongings which survived are scattered around different houses in storage. People often check in on me. And I try to do what I can in return to thank them. It’s a big part of what makes a community a community. And thus what makes the community a secure part of a home. It keeps things going even if one falls down or needs support.

In terms of BTS, we have seen Yoongi be afraid of moving in the past. Jungkook mentioned the members being back together in BV4. How the members congregated together during ITS or at hotels whilst on tour. No matter where they go or no matter how long apart, they make it work or lift each other up. The same goes for their group chat too or hearing each other's voices on the phone. As long as they are together, they are able to keep going as a team. And in part of that, I am also very grateful that Jimin and Jungkook have each other right now. 

Not being in your physical home throws you completely off balance, but knowing you have that connection with others and the love around it goes a long way. And that is what makes a home. Note: I know this is very different than what I normally post, but I have had this in my drafts for a while and decided I might aswel share it. Talking about how traumatic the last month has been is somewhat helpful to and I would like to thank everyone who has reached out, offered helped or been so understanding about my lack of post schedule. Much Love, Becca xx

[glass-apothecary]

Stand By

Chapter 4 - Kilo

AO3 | Masterlist

Abby sees you in action and learns something about you that you tried to keep hidden.

August 12th, 2035

Abby is 17 years old.

She has been at the stadium for 14 months.

Abby’s dad liked Owen. 

Owen wasn’t one of his students, but he was assigned to Abby’s Firefly unit so they were around each other a lot. Abby liked Owen too. He was funny. He didn’t have that rage in him that a lot of men had. He felt safe. 

He held her while she reached for her father’s corpse. He’d played interference when people wanted to offer Abby their condolences. He didn’t speak for her, but he stood up for her when she didn’t have the strength. And on the road to Seattle, he let her take it out on the corpses of infected and didn’t judge her for it. He had lost his family before Utah. He knew how it felt

And in return, she let him kiss her. It wasn’t bad, just… clinical. It was nice, for someone to want you. She felt valuable when she was with him. Abby didn’t realize just how much she was going through the motions until she started spending more time with you.

It was movie night. Everyone from Salt Lake was there minus Leah, who was on duty. You were all packed together in their room fighting over popcorn while the lead actress confessed her love in the rain. 

Abby was sitting between you and Owen. When the two actors in the movie kissed and the music swelled, Owen put his hand on Abby’s knee. Objectively she knew that was sweet, and she didn’t let herself think about it past that, sweet . 

Abby had invited you for two reasons. First; the two of you had become friends in record time and she wanted to spend more time with you. Second; You had been working through the night recently and you needed some off time. They had been looking for someone to cover the radio on night shift but so far no one could figure out your shorthand and people kept screwing up the channel settings.

So it was no surprise when you started nodding off during the movie’s third act miscommunication. And Abby had to admit, it was kind of cute, the way you tried to fight through it. When your head fell softly against her shoulder and you let out a small puff of air, Abby had this feeling . Like excitement, but more internal. A fuzziness in her chest. Like when you’re holding an impossibly small kitten. Every muscle in her body tensed with the effort to stay still, to not disturb you. 

When the movie finally ended and everyone started getting up to leave, you woke up. 

“Oh shit, Abbs I'm so sorry I fell asleep. I- ” You were cut off, startled by the buzz from your walkie.

“Tower, come in. Towe-” The voice cut off, they sounded frantic. Abby sat up. 

“Go ahead” You replied. You did that sometimes, switching from calm to serious the moment a transmission came through.

Silence on the other line. 

“Go ahead, Squad Kilo. Are you in need of assistance?”

Leah was on Squad Kilo. Abby felt sick.

You stood, rushing toward the door as quickly as you could in your post-sleep haze. Abby followed. She wanted to help but she knew she shouldn’t get in the way. And god! How were you so calm? 

Abby noticed in her periphery that Mel and Nora split off to go to the infirmary and that Manny, Owen, and Jordan were taking her lead and following you to the tower.

“-oldiers down, Tower. Immediate evac requested!” There was commotion on the other end. Something that sounded like gunshots. 

You were at the elevator now and Abby watched you pause before running to the stairwell instead.

“Roger that, what’s your 20.” You said.

Confused, Abby followed you, motioning for the rest of the gang to take the elevator. 

Abby knew you weren’t the most athletic person in the stadium, she had really only seen you move quickly when the kitchen was serving those garlic butter things you liked. So she was truly astonished to see you book it up the stairs like someone’s life depended on it. Maybe someone’s life did. 

As Abby reached the landing a step behind you, she saw everyone else had already made it there. So the elevator was faster, why had you taken the stairs? Abby wasn’t an angry person, or at least she didn’t think she was. There were a few people she’d had a reason to be mad at. Her boyfriend, on occasion, her friends when they treated her like a child despite being her age. But she had never been mad at you, so it came as quite a shock when her brow furrowed in consternation over your dumb choice. A dumb, time-wasting choice you made while Leah was in danger.

You moved past everyone to the map table with the walkie still in your hand. What followed was a series of coordinates and street names you had to ask them to repeat twice. Once you located it, you sighed with relief. 

“Squad Kilo, there is a safe house the next block over. The old warehouse. Can you make it there?”

Silence, while you waited for a response. Abby was buzzing; with anger at you, with fear for her friend, and with something else as she admired your one-minded focus. 

“Copy, Tower. We should be able to make it.”

“Good. Squad Apollo should be in that area. Stand by.” She switched channels to speak with who Abby assumed was squad Apollo. 

There was a break in the commotion as Leah’s team was moving to the warehouse and squad Apollo was shipping out to meet them. 

Her friends had been heatedly whispering to each other while she had been looking at you and their conversation was growing louder to fill the science. It was Jordan’s voice Abby heard first. 

“I’m going out there!” He protested, pushing at Manny’s chest. 

“Don’t be stupid, man. There’s nothing you can do. You really think you can move faster than Apollo squad?” Manny was trying to talk Jordan down and Owen wasn’t helping.

“Manny, Leah’s in trouble. I don’t want him to go either but if it was Abby, you couldn’t stop me.”

That pissed Abby off. There were a lot of things Owen did to annoy her. Holding his hand at the small of her back when they were walking like she needed guidance, kissing her in public like she was an accessory, bringing up her dad when she was upset with him, but this… Acting like she was better than everyone else, different . Like she deserved to have someone risk their life for her?

“Owen-” Abby gave him a look she had given him before. A look that meant stand down and we’ll talk about this later. 

She looked at Jordan.

Abby knew that feeling. Knowing something was wrong. Knowing someone you love is in danger, and rushing towards it anyway because what else can you do? She saw the energy in his body, like a coiled spring. She put her hand on his shoulder and said something that maybe only the two of them would understand. A choice she hadn’t had the chance to make.

“If this goes really bad… If she dies, Jordan.” She saw him flinch and caught his eyes again. “Do you want to be running around trying to find her or do you want to tell her how much you love her, even if it’s over the radio?”

She watched the reality weigh down on him as he considered. But she knew he was listening to reason now so she simply repeated what Manny said and what Jorden already knew. 

“You’re not going to reach her before Apollo does. But you can be here for her.”

Jordan nodded solemnly. With emotion in his eyes and the detached stature of a soldier, he went to stand next to you. Abby watched as you nodded at him and handed him an extra transmission microphone, giving him soft directions and telling him not to speak unless he needed to. You looked at her with appreciation and Abby almost smiled back.

The next twenty minutes were tense. Sporadic messages updating you, and you acting as the intermediary so the teams could communicate. Once you were given the all clear that they were on their way back to the stadium you sighed, collapsing back into your chair, sending the boys downstairs to wait for the rescue team to arrive with Leah.

Abby spoke up then. “I, could you ask… Were there any casualties?” 

“I did, earlier. I was using shorthand though.” You looked at her with patience despite your exhaustion. “No WLF casualties. A few injuries, one critical.”

“Right.” Of course you’d asked. She shouldn’t have said that. Stupid.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, laying a hand on Abby’s. “We’ll know soon. Actually, let's go down to intake so we catch them on their way in, yeah?” You sighed, getting up from the chair like you’d miss it

God you were sweet. 

“Yeah.” Abby replied, before remembering she was supposed to be mad at you. 

“Why didn’t you take the elevator?” She asked, her anger building up before you could answer. “Leah could have died. Do you not care?”

Abby knew you cared. Of course you did. But she couldn’t stop that bitterness from rising in her chest. She trusted you, but she could be wrong. She couldn’t trust her own idea of you. Maybe you were just in the right place at the right time for her to project her loneliness onto.

She couldn’t look at you because she knew if she did, she’d fold. 

You didn’t reply right away, which made Abby feel dumb, like the answer was obvious and she just hadn’t gotten it. 

You sighed and took her hand. “Abby, sometimes I lose signal in the elevator. The entire stadium is made of concrete, which is why the tower is up so high, but the elevator is worse. Concrete and steel. I made a split second decision; either lose signal in the elevator and miss something important, or make it to the tower a couple seconds later with all the information I need.”

When she met your eyes, she felt… guilt. You were so tired. She could see the shadows under your eyes. And more than that, she could see the weight of this job. Someone always needed help, and the only thing you could do was listen. She wondered then, how often you had done this, how many times had it gone the other way, how many times had you listened to someone die? 

You were so young, you both were. Abby had no words, so she just held you.

~♡~

Leah was hurt, badly. 

When you arrived at the med bay, she was already in surgery. Over the past year, Abby hadn’t told you much about her time in Salt Lake, but you knew she avoided the infirmary. The waiting room was crowded, all of Leah’s friends from Utah and the many people she’d gotten close with once she got to the stadium were all packed into a small room with uncomfortable benches. You were beyond exhausted but you wanted to be there for Abby. Every ounce of will you possessed was being used to keep your eyes open and your head straight. You couldn’t tell if the fluorescents were helping keep you awake or just giving you a headache.

Instead of closing your eyes, you catalogued the range of emotion in the waiting room. Manny was talking to Jordan in hushed tones, whatever he was saying must have been helping because Jordan seemed more scared than reckless, which was an improvement. Leah’s squad members that had already been medically cleared were, similarly to you, just trying to stay awake. Abby was staring straight ahead, her leg bouncing at an unforgiving pace. She didn’t seem to see Owen who was sitting a few feet away, trying to catch her gaze. Between Abby’s nervous energy, the lights, and the low murmur of tension, you were well on your way to a migraine. 

“Abby, my room isn’t far from here, do you want to wait there? I can have someone radio me with any updates.” You offered. 

Abby looked at you. At first, she was openly relieved at the alternative offered, but her look was quickly swallowed by shame.

“I… shouldn’t.” She looked around at her friends. 

“Look Abbs, if you want to stay, I won’t blame you, but Leah won’t be able to have any visitors until tomorrow anyway.” You laid a gentle hand on her still bouncing knee. “And your nervous energy isn’t helping.”

You spoke gently, non-judgmentally. You just wanted Abby to take a moment for herself, let herself feel grief and anger and fear without letting them become her. 

You watched the tension leave her face as she decided to stop fighting herself and trust you. You stood and let one of the med assistants know to radio you if anything changed and went to gather Abby. You were about to leave when a low authoritative voice behind you spoke your name. The voice made you freeze in your tracks. And from what you could see, everyone else in the room stopped what they were doing and stood, or sat as the case may be, at attention. 

You turned to face Issac.

“Hello, dear niece."

[eddiediazismyhusband]

Long time no see…

wow it’s been a while…

for starters: i just want to say thank you to @lenaboskow and @mazzystar24

the two of you have stuck by me through the whole rollercoaster that has been my break from tumblr and i don’t think i would have wver come back if it wasn’t for the two of you, so thank you both for being such amazing, talented, beautiful, gorgeous friends to me through it all ❤️

and to those who have sent me kind asks/messages while i’ve been gone, thank you all for the kind words of support and encouragement as well- you are each appreciated so deeply and i can’t thank you enough!

so… a few things have happened while I’ve been gone

the first of which being my 22nd birthday in october which thankfully was spent with AC and a hot shower after having been without power for 12 days in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene; despite the inconvenience of having no power or water in those 12 days, i was still immensely lucky to have been safe and received no damage to my home unlike countless others who unfortunately are still recovering from the storm.

the other major-ish life update from my time away:

i adopted a puppy!!!

in early october (in fact, while we were still without power), I adopted this precious little girl (called ellie) from my local humane society.

she was around 3 months old when i adopted her, and in the beginning of January, she turned 6 months.

she has been a massive help in managing my anxiety and depression, keeping me company and giving me something to love and care for, and in the few months i have had her, she’s already wrapped me around her paw

i could not have asked for a better fur baby than her ❤️ she is probably the best thing that happened to me in 2024, and I cannot wait to see all the adventures life takes her on.

In other news; I’m back!

I had made the decision a few months ago to step away from tumblr as the landscape leading up to the s8 premiere of 9-1-1 was immensely difficult and taxing on my mental health, and I realized that it wasnt healthy to feel the way I so strongly did about the show or the fandom, and I needed to take a step back, alter the way i approached the show and fandom, and refocus on other things.

one of those things was refocusing on my job. shortly before i took a break, i had started a new job and was still very much in the training phase when i made the decision to take a break from tumblr. since then, i have been focusing on establishing myself as a reliable hardworking employee at my job, and i’ve also been focusing on the future;

i currently plan to take a flight attendant training course to become certified, and eventually find work with an airline.

because of this, 9-1-1 and the fandom have taken a back seat to more important things.

that being said, i still watched the entirety of 8a (not live, but a few days after airing once i had the chance to grill sarah and addie about what happened each episode- i have a lot of opinions on how things have gone and seem to be going but now is not the time nor place for that). i have still posted the occasional fic on ao3, and i am still working on my various wips as i am able to

i eventually realized how much i truly did miss being a part of the fandom, and have made the choice to come back, but going forward, i’m going to be doing things differently:

1. i will not be engaging in speculation or anything of that nature about future episodes- all it does is give me anxiety that manifests through frustration and i don’t want to continue feeding into that

2. i am going go be returning to my original philosophy of “the block and delete buttons are my friends.” in the last few weeks before my break, i found myself engaging more and more with toxic fans rather than just blocking them or deleting their replies to my posts- that won’t be happening anymore: if you come on my page being toxic or rude, you will be blocked and ignored because i do not have time for that shit

3. i want to branch out to other fandoms- this will remain a 9-1-1 blog first and foremost, and the majority of what i post will be related to 9-1-1, but i will also occasionally make posts about other fandoms/media that i have an interest in

4. most of what i post will either be fic related, headcanon related, or memes. as stated above, i do not have a healthy relationship with spec, and therefore i am not going to foster that by actively involving myself in it.

all that said, i’m really gald to be back, and i’m looking forward to being involved again! i hope everyone who stuck to the end of this long ass re-introduction post is having a wonderful morning, afternoon, or evening wherever you are in the world <3

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

do u have hcs for sams post canon family life

Ok so gonna preface this with the fact that I hold opinions that I think are relatively uncommon in this corner of Samblr which is that as a general overarching thing Sam was relatively happy, he and blurry partner stayed together and were mostly happy, and Sam was on the whole a pretty good dad. Not that everything was perfect, far from it, but that generally it all worked out ok. I feel this way mostly tbh because if I didn't I would genuinely struggle to get any enjoyment out of the finale. I'm a FAKE Sam suffering enjoyer lmao. It's already deeply fucking depressing to me to imagine Sam spending eternity in heaven with Dean being squished back into The Roles, I need SOMETHING so cling too lol.

ANYWAYS that being said:

Said this before but although I am fairly flexible on identity of blurry partner my personal favourite thing to come back to is that she is Amelia. So I'm gonna run with her for the rest of these.

Related to this is that I think when we see Sam leave the bunker in the finale to go on the hunt in Texas that ended up being the last time he ever returned. He didn't mean it to be, it just happened. Maybe subconsciously he knew because he'd packed the little memory box with pictures etc in the trunk of the Impala without thinking about it. Anyway keeping this on track, he ends up staying in Texas and eventually, he and Amelia run into each other again - her having left Don again after things didn't work out a few years ago (gonna be real with you I think Don was abusive) and end up reconnecting.

Riot and Miricle are kinda grumpy but tolerant about each other.

They also eventually adopt an old lady tabby cat from the local shelter who absolutely terrorises both dogs, but dotes on Sam.

Sam ends up telling Amelia the truth about his life about 3 months into their relationship restarting, not all of it, but enough to keep her aware. She says that honestly even though it sounds crazy it makes a LOT of sense of how Sam was when they first met. This is the point at which they decide they do want their relationship to last and be serious. Amelia suggests they do couple's counselling together, given both their past issues if they really want to make this work.

He and Amelia never marry for a variety of reasons, but it works for them.

Sam ends up getting a degree - I think in something like anthropology (me an archaeologist totally not biased here lol), he does it through a distance learning program so mostly online but with some in-person classes and workshops.

DJ wasn't a planned pregnancy and it took a lot of discussion between them to decide to go ahead. Sam in particular was very anxious about the idea of being an actual dad to an actual baby, as much as he was kinda one to Jack he knows this is a whole different level. Amelia never wanted kids with Don. Amelia is also in her 40s by the time it happens so there are extra potential complications to consider. In the end they both agree that they want go ahead, and they both acknowledge that this will probably be their only kid.

Already mentioned Sam and DJ being autistic elsewhere but that's very precious to me.

Sam does struggle to find a balance between making sure he's there for DJ in a way his dad wasn't for him and being too much of a helicopter parent. He's SO conscious of DJ being an only child and the potential for loneliness stemming from that (absolutely projecting his own childhood loneliness SO hard and of course, his ideas on sibling companionship are NOT normal lol). As DJ get's older Sam does manage to relax a little, although it is still an issue from time to time.

That being said as I mentioned previously re the autism headcannon this level of worry also means that Sam puts in SO much work and research into being a supportive dad to an autistic kid.

Amelia is the 'breadwinner' in the relationship, continuing to work as a vet, Sam works a series of different part-time jobs over the years, mostly involving fixing stuff. After he gets his degree he works a couple of days a week at the local library as an assistant.

Related, finally stopping hunting gave him time to really catch up with and assess his body, and a lot of the weight and wear and tear of what he'd been through hit him quite suddenly. He has chronic fatigue issues in particular for the rest of his life which is why part-time work ends up being the best solution for him. Although Amelia, and DJ when he's a teenager, do still frequently have to sit him down and force him to stop trying to do too much at once.

Amelia passes away before Sam. She had been dead for about 5 years by the time Sam died.

Sam keeps very little contact with the hunting world, but Jody does still come to visit. DJ is very fond of her, much to Sam's delight.

The first time Sam had to look after DJ on his own after Amelia went back to work full time and was working a nightshift he was stuck to him like glue, Amelia came home to find him curled up on the floor asleep right next to DJs cot.

Sam loves helping DJ with his homework, and DJ loves it too - its their special time together, and its when Sam is able to be most emotionally open and present.

Sam's issues with food never go away, and its one thing he and Amelia do get into fights over is Sam (unintentionally) putting some of his issues on DJ (think Sam telling Jack he shouldn't eat sugary cereal).

Sam and Amelia both discover a love of gardening and they spend a lot of their free time together working on their garden. Amelia particularly loves roses and has a little rose garden that becomes their little sanctuary (Amelia's ashes are buried there). Sam creates a little healing herbs garden, he doesn't actively practice witchcraft but he likes to make little tinctures and teas and stuff.

I'll stop there lol

[spiritedstars]

Drawing Up the Plans [ Eiris Modern AU ]

Prompt: Modern AU Eris x Iris "celebrate" Valentine's Day. Inspired by this post. I have no other excuses. / Find it all here. Rated: SFW. Brought to you by: Taylor Swift's - I Think He Knows & Gorgeous Author's Note: Happy love month! Here are my morons doing their thing in modern au format. I had fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it :) [ Repost of my original one from 2023 with some minor updates ]

tagging: @riorsonxaden /  @climb-the-mountian / @vanserrass / @positivewitch / @animezinglife / @zenkindoflove / @rosewood-cafe / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @carolynmezzosoprano / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens / @lalaluch /

Iris watched him with a look of slight disdain on her face as her...whatever he was, sat across from her at their local ice cream shop. Eris was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, an ice cream cone in one hand and his eyes locked on his phone in the other.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as he nonchalantly brought the cone closer to his mouth and licked the creamy sweetness. 

She clenched her fingers around her spoon and scowled. 

It was just ice cream. He was only eating ice cream and yet — Iris clenched her thighs together and her scowl deepened when his traitorous tongue darted out again to take more.

It was obscene. Slightly erotic. But mostly it was obscene and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. 

Iris didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it was doing something to her. They’d only been orbiting around each other for a few weeks, and she was barely tolerating their interactions. He was so obnoxious and yet despite her many attempts to avoid him, they kept running into each other. The two of them ended up in the same space too often for it to be anything but fate.

She blamed it on how small this town seemed to be. And the fact that he was a rich, attractive man with too much confidence. Iris had moved into town a few months ago and during her first week, stumbled into him at the local bar where he spilled his drink on her. He insisted it was an accident but that hadn’t stopped her from throwing her drink at his face in return.

Needless to say, they treaded very aggressively around each other.

“Is there something wrong, Iris?” he asked and Eris met her gaze with a slight smirk, finally putting his phone away. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Everything about you is wrong.” she mumbled and her gaze dropped to her own cup of ice cream. Iris had opted for a cup rather than a cone; She didn’t exactly trust what would come out of his mouth if she licked an ice cream cone in front of him. 

She twirled the spoon in the sweetness as Eris chuckled then made the mistake of looking up to watch him as he once more, slowly, took another lick of his ice cream with a raised brow. 

“You seem to have quite a problem with me and yet, here you are.”

“You asked me to meet you here, asshole.” she snapped and the corner of his wicked mouth lifted.

“Wound up a little tight today, are we?” he asked and had the audacity to smile as his tongue slowly lapped more ice cream.

Her lips curled in disdain once more as he smirked his way through another lick and Iris closed her eyes with a deep sigh. “What the hell do you want, Eris?”

“Are you not enjoying our date?”

Iris’s eyes shot open and both brows went up. “Date?”

“Yes.”

“You think this is a date?” she asked flatly.

“You think this isn’t?”

“When the hell did you ask me out on a date?” she asked with an incredulous laugh. “When did you dream that I said yes?”

Eris had the nerve to chuckle once more. “I asked you out to share some ice cream. On Valentine’s Day. Here we are. Date.”

Iris squinted then her gaze flickered around the shop and it hit her how blind she’d been; it was decorated with red and pink hearts everywhere. She’d been so annoyed when she walked in to meet him that Iris hadn’t even noticed. How the hell had she missed that it was Valentine’s Day? 

True, she hadn’t really celebrated it in years. But it wasn’t her fault that most of the men she’d tried dating sucked. 

Besides, it was the day after Valentine’s Day that was worth celebrating. All her favorite chocolates were on sale. 

Finally rolling her eyes at his smirk, she said, “Every time I think you’ve reached your limit of audacity, you surprise me by outrageously exceeding it.”

He smiled once more then took a deliberately slow lick of his ice cream. “I like to keep you on your toes. I think you rather enjoy it.”

“I don’t enjoy anything about you.” she snapped, stabbing at what was left of her ice cream. “I don’t even like you.” 

He snorted. “Sure. You definitely want to fuck me though. I bet you’ll like me a lot more then.” he said smoothly. 

Iris’s brows shot up and she let out a huff of laughter in disbelief, her grip tightening around her spoon. “You are one cocky motherfucker. Especially when this is your idea of a Valentine’s Day date,” she huffed. “A date I definitely did not agree to.”

“Don’t worry, I absolutely want to fuck you too,” he said, raising his ice cream to toast her. “In fact, I insist.”

Iris willed her face not to flush, for her body not to betray her by reacting to his words. In the midst of all their unfortunate meets and bickering, had she thought about what it would be like to fuck him? Sure. Would she ever admit it? Definitely not.  

“You’re unbelievable,” she said with a shake of her head. “How has no one in this town choked the life out of you yet?”

“It’s because I’m pretty.” he said with a smirk. “And very, very rich.”

“And so humble.”

“Exactly,” he said with a wink then straightened. “In all seriousness, when are we going to make this official between us?”

Iris rolled her eyes. “What, exactly, is there to make official?”

“You and me, little gazelle,” Eris replied with a knowing look. “Let’s not pretend this dance is anything but foreplay. Say yes and I’ll show you exactly the kind of dates I take a woman on.”

“Ah yes, the recycled list of dates you’ve used on all the women you go through?” she said with a snort. “Pass.”

“The kind of dates I only plan for one type of woman,” he said and the corner of his mouth ticked up in a way that made her toes curl. “And I’ve only ever met one of you.”

Iris watched him in silence, taking a moment to think of an appropriate response. He really was unbelievable. Obnoxious. Uppity. An ass most of the time. But…she had to admit, there was something that drew them to each other. Like an invisible string dragging them down the same path. 

She’d resisted at every corner. And yet…gym? Eris had been there. Cafe? He had been there. The park while on her morning walks? He’d somehow been there. If it weren’t for the look of genuine surprise on his face every time, she’d think he’d been stalking her. 

But then they also ended up at the same social events. Town meetings. Fundraisers. Parties. They’d had a…moment at the last gathering that replayed in Iris’s mind for longer than she would’ve liked. She’d deny it to her last breath but Lucien and Elain had witnessed it and though Iris loved having them as friends, she knew they were way too excited about whatever this was between her and Eris to let it go.

Iris placed her spoon in her ice cream cup and then leaned back in her chair, watching him curiously. 

“Eris.”

“Yes?” 

“What do you want from me?”

He gave her a small smile she hadn’t seen on his face before, one that softened his features and it made her instantly look away. “I simply want us to spend time together.” 

“Why?”

Eris shrugged. “You feel it. You know why,” he said. “I want to see where it goes.”

Irid did feel it. As much as she would’ve liked to deny the chemistry between them, it was hard to pretend nothing was there when seeing him automatically made her pulse start racing. She hated it. But she also wanted to see where it would go.

She pursed her lips and waited a heartbeat before answering, “Fine. On two conditions.”

He took another obscene lick of his ice cream and waved a hand for her to continue. She tried not to squirm.

“One, physical contact will be limited to what I am comfortable with and sex is completely off the table.” Iris said firmly. “My body isn’t a prize you earn. We will simply see if we have a good time.”

“Agreed,” he said graciously. “My body, however, is absolutely available should you feel the need to explore it. I will humbly oblige.”

Iris rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. “I’m not interested in going on dates with an egotistical ass who just wants to show off his money.” she said with a pointed look. “Don’t waste my time if you aren’t actually serious about this.”

“I am very serious.” he said and frowned. “You think I enjoy feeling this way about anyone?”

Iris felt her heart flutter at the look he gave her. If she wasn’t mistaken, his ears had gotten a little red. “And what way is that?”

Eris took a bite from his cone and squinted at her for a moment before answering. “When we’re on our date, I’ll tell you.”

She hummed her agreement and tried not to fidget in her seat at the movement of his mouth. “Either way. If you’re trying to impress me just so I don’t pour more drinks over your head, know that I don’t want flashy, I want real.” she said firmly. “You need to earn my trust.” 

Eris watched her silently for a heartbeat then the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Okay.”

“And we tell no one.”

“Embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“Of course.” she said with a snort and Eris had the nerve to laugh softly. “Besides, I like privacy. People in this town are always in each other’s business. I know way too much about people’s bedroom habits.”

“Nesta and Cassian?” he asked with a snicker.

“Yes. Holy shit, do they have stamina.” Iris muttered, causing Eris to grin.

“They aren’t the only ones with stamina like that.” he said, nearly purring and Iris shot him a murderous look.

“Don’t.”

He held up a hand in mock surrender. “And your second condition?” he said then took another lick of his ice cream.

And this time Iris had finally had enough. She leaned over and yanked his cone from his hands, dropping it into her bowl. “You aren’t allowed to eat ice cream in front of me ever again.” 

Eris blinked then burst out laughing. “Why?” he said incredulously. “I thought the choice of strawberry ice cream suited our date theme.”

“We’re not on a date,” she said flatly. “And the way you eat ice cream is obscene and you should be fined for public indecency.”

Iris watched him laugh again and hated how it made her pulse race faster. Eris lit up when he laughed. It made him more youthful, and at ease, versus his usual expression that made a person want to punch him in the face.

“Ah.” he finally said with a smirk that Iris didn’t trust one bit. “I see you caught on to my tactic.”

Iris narrowed her eyes, willing herself not to flush. “And what tactic is that?” she asked, already regretting the question as his expression.

“I wanted to make sure you knew that ice cream wasn’t the only thing I could eat obscenely,” Eris said, his voice dropping low and Iris felt her body heating. “I hope my display was to your liking.”

This motherfucker. Iris took a breath and closed her eyes, slowly counting to ten before opening her eyes again to find Eris still smirking obnoxiously at her from across the table. Had she been paying extra attention to the way he ate his stupid ice cream? Yes. Would she ever admit it? No. 

Jerking her chin towards her bowl of ruined dessert. “Do you want me to dump it on your head or do you want to do it yourself?”

“I’d rather you watched me eat it again.” 

“I’d rather you choked.”

Eris chuckled and the sound made goosebumps erupt on her flesh as he stood. She watched him wipe his hands with a napkin on the table and then adjust his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving her face. Tossing the napkin into her melting bowl of dessert, Eris placed a hand on the back of her chair, his other balanced on the table, and leaned in close. 

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you weren’t devouring me with your eyes, sweetheart.” he whispered and Iris scowled with a flush. Eris paused for a breath as she turned her head to look at him and the two watched each other silently, the world suddenly silent around them.

She wondered if his heart was beating as wildly as hers. If he could see her pulse racing.

Almost as if in a trance, Eris couldn’t help but lean in to gently kiss her cheek, before meeting her gaze again. “I had fun on our date.” he murmured.

“Not a date.” she whispered but Eris only hummed.

“Agree to disagree,” he said with a slight smile. “I knew you’d be my Valentine the moment you poured that drink on me months ago.”

Her face heated. She would not think about what that meant. “I doubt you expected your Valentine to want to choke you out.”

“Oh, I absolutely would want my valentine to choke me out. You can choke me all you want on our next date.” Eris said and finally pulled back with a wink, sliding a small gift bag she hadn’t even noticed across the table to her. “This was bought prior to your conditions so our agreement still stands.”

Iris blinked and gazed up at him. “You…bought me a gift?”

“Of course. I’m not one to show up to a date empty-handed.” Eris said with a pointed look.

“It’s not a date.” she repeated but knew, this time, her refusal sounded weak enough that Eris chuckled.

“You look adorable when you’re in denial.” he cooed and couldn’t help his grin as Iris scowled up at him, running a finger down her cheek before stepping back. “I’ll pick you up at 6, Friday evening. Wear something that’ll rip my poor heart out, little valentine.” 

Iris sat in the silence that followed his smug exit, stunned at the turn of events and how fast her heart was beating. She wasn’t sure what exactly she had agreed to with Eris but felt dazed. Excited. Turned on. Slightly annoyed.

Most importantly, she needed to go shopping. 

Iris would not think about the kiss on her cheek. Or about his promises. She certainly would not think about his tongue and what that stupid mouth of his could do. 

She would only think about finding a dress that would give him the bluest of balls possible. 

Her eyes fell on the gift bag again and Iris slowly pulled it closer to peek in. A note sat atop the tissue paper, hiding whatever it was that he’d gotten her. Biting the inside of her cheek, Iris pulled out the note, trying not to think about her mixed emotions having Eris of all people getting her a Valentine’s Day gift. She opened it and read,

Happy Valentine’s Day, little gazelle. Use it and think of me. Know I could do it better.

But here’s my number so you can tell me all about how you like it. 

Iris flushed deeply and immediately eyed the bag again. “Oh god.” she whispered. Those words could mean anything but knowing Eris – knowing the way he thinks…He wouldn’t. Would he?

She could practically see his stupid face and stupid smirk in front of her and with a scowl, Iris reached for the bag again, slowly removing the gift tissue to peek beneath it at the gift. A small groan slipped from her mouth and she immediately covered it again. 

Of course, he would. 

Of course, Eris Vanserra would think a vibrator would be an appropriate gift for someone he had barely been on a date with. An expensive one at that. 

He was outrageous. Outrageous. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or freaked out that he was thinking about her pleasure. How many guys thought about a gift like this? How many guys were this fucken bold? 

Then again, every interaction with this man only proved him persistent. 

“I knew you’d be my Valentine the moment you poured that drink on me months ago.”

The words replayed in her mind and Iris pursed her lips, glancing down at the bag once more, amusement seeping through the disbelief. Eris hadn’t hesitated from the moment he met her and Iris had to admit, though his methods weren’t great — it, unfortunately, made him come off as very attractive. 

Groaning quietly to herself, Iris shoved the note back into the bag and then sighed, knowing whatever resistance she had been building against him would disappear as soon as she tested out this gift of his. The asshole knew exactly what he was doing. 

And Iris had to give credit where credit was due — she always did like a man with a plan.

[oswlld]

oswlld's monthly wrap up: march

note: i am trying something a bit different this year, so bear with me as i figure out how i want to format this. i wanted to spend more time sharing what i consume, beyond what i rb, and put my thoughts in one place. these posts are okay to rb

--

When We Cease to Understand the World, Benjamín Labatut [started 02/24, finished 03/14] What an outstanding example of blurring the lines between fiction and reality. I am content in never knowing what’s real and imaginary in the lives of these people. May we never forget that for every new idea challenged, there is a real person with real emotions and motivations behind it. 4.25⭐️ in storygraph. — No Stopping Us Now: A History of Older Women in America, Gail Collins [started 03/03, finished 03/30] This book makes some strong points, but comes off weak in its execution. By having it be told decade by decade, it becomes hard to follow along when so many names and events are being tossed around. Without a firm thread tying all the themes together, the achievements ended up feeling lackluster when it should leave you feeling a sense of pride and hopefulness. 3.25⭐️ in storygraph (I rounded up, but it feels more like a 3.15)

23.5 Degrees, GMMTV [started: 03/08, ongoing] What a breath of fresh air!! With my busy schedule, I managed to catch the first two eps and I’ve loved every minute of it. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, while still keeping a tight grip on its sense of identity. The series soaks up every aspect of its space theme like a sponge. Content specifically made for me, tysm! As much as I have tried refraining from consuming more high school settings, I couldn’t help but be enamored by what I have seen so far. I have paused this series for now, but hopefully I’ll be caught up before the end of April. I should be able to watch it live on Fridays in May. Until then, I will miss them dearly! — Always a Witch, Netflix [started 03/28, in progress] At this time, I have only seen episodes 1-5. So far, it’s a very straight-forward series. I am restraining myself from calling it predictable, because there are one or two things that really turns some tropes/themes on its head. But all-in-all, I am still waiting for this show to grab me. For a show that checks all the boxes that really makes a core jessi show, a series with time travel, magical realism, and found family, it has yet to completely sweep me away. Time really got away from me this month, but I will finish this series sometime in the next two weeks. We shall see if the latter half gets better.

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor’s Version) [watched 03/15 thru 03/18] I have seen this live and did see the original film in theaters last year, so this experience was more of a rewatch. This time around, my parents wanted to watch some of it with me so we made a whole evening of it on 3/15 so that was really neat. I will be traveling a lot in April and will be taking an audio copy of this to keep me entertained. — Oscar Nomination Season [started 02/17, ended 03/24] All of my initial reactions of what I managed to cover this Oscar season is in this post. Some of the strongest categories I have had the pleasure of covering this year were the Best Documentary (feature), Best Production Design, Best Live Action Short, Best Documentary (short), and Best Animated Film. I have several more films to tackle later this year, but my overall impression this Oscar season was just alright. One or two films have hit an extremely high note for me, but no worst of the worst.

BEYONCÉ, Beyoncé [relistening] During the pandemic, I really got into waching YT reaction channels reacting to full albums. One of my favorites is HTHaze and he is only beginning his listening journey through Beyoncé’s discography (yes, for the first time!) His reaction to Beyoncé’s self-titled made me want to relisten to it in full for the first time in years. I tend to only revisit a few songs through the years, but I do love going back to albums after time has past to recontextualize everything all over again. I’ve had my longtime faves from my 20’s but in my mid-30’s, the songs that hit harder now are: Pretty Hurts, Haunted, and Jealous. — Bewitched, Laufey [first time listening] The same YT channel got me to listen to this album. I am guilty in having my first listen be through his video first before diving into her album properly. With that said, the brain rot went FULL ROT. I love LOVE her compositions. Having learned from her Tiny Desk that getting a grand piano influenced the way she wrote her songs makes the whole conception so much grander. Her voice is soooo, it’s SOOOOO !!!!!!! I read a comment somewhere that her dream is to rejuvenate jazz the same way Taylor Swift did with country for a younger generation and that really spoke to me. I truly believe she is heading in the right direction in achieving that. My favorite run of songs goes from: Haunted, Must Be Love, While You Were Sleeping, Lovesick, California and Me, Nocturne (Interlude), and Promise. Those seven songs in that succession is so GOOD, ahH! — Once the Musical [relistening] Every spring, I fall into a Once spiral and it just gets deeper and deeper. This time though, I only tackled the core faves on YT rather than committing to the full audio (w/ Arthur Darvill and Joanna Christie). Although Arthur Darvill’s Leave will forever solidify his Guy as my Guy, Declan Bennett is The Guy of Guys for me. My mandatory relistening experience always goes: Arthur’s Leave, Arthur’s Say It To Me Now, Declan’s Say It To Me Now, Declan’s When Your Mind’s Made Up, Zrinka's If You Want Me, Once’s Spotify Jam Session. And it would all be on a loop lol. — Cowboy Carter, Beyoncé [first time listening] This is still fresh in my mind, having only listened to it in its entirety once through. My first impression is that it’s one of her most cohesive albums to date. Having had the first taste of what she would eventually achieve all the way back with Lemonade and The Gift, Cowboy Carter feels like a natural progression in her discography. I don’t have a top songs list to provide at this time, as I would need more time with the album. Fav songs come with time. Although, I did listen to 16 CARRIAGES when it was released several weeks ago and I knew then it would be a spectacular album. What a phenomenal single to lead a phenomenal homecoming.

Where’d You Go Bernadette, written by Maria Semple and narrated by Kathleen Wilhoite [started 03/22, finished 03/29] I… I didn’t like this. And that’s alright. Even if I didn’t like the premise or the characters, I did enjoy the format of the narrative and the narrator (especially her singing!!). But in the end, this was just not meant for me.

—

As it is still March when I am writing this, I wanted to endcap Women’s Month with a special shoutout to two women in my life that have been working with me to improve my overall well-being: Wendy (personal trainer) and Sofia (life coach). I am in a better headspace because of the work and trust they have in me to build a life I want. I cannot wait to see what I am capable of this time next year.

[moonshynecybin]

that one trackside interview from august 2015 where marc’s like “with valentino we’re enough professionals, especially him, he’s really professional and we can forget what happened on the track and outside the track we speak and yeah the relationship, you know, always i say that valentino is my hero and i would like to keep the relationship always because i think it’s important” :[

echoes what vale kinda says in jerez in april (first race post-argentina and the press smell rivalry in the water) about how its hard to call anyone on the track a friend when theyre fighting w them but that doesnt mean they dont have a good relationship... idk i DO think its notable that they both kind of avoid the 'what the hell is up with your relationship' part of the question. of course WE know that they were sucking and fucking on podiums up until they pulled the pin out of the grenade, but i dont think marc is necessarily lying when he says the friendship cooled off after the ranch visit, i just think they were so aggressively up each other's colons during all of 2013/2014 that ANY distance must have felt. a bit sudden and weird to both... vale pulling away because he thinks he has to in order to compete, and marc recognizing that and trying REALLY hard not to let it hurt his feelings for most of the summer. just blasting casual by chappell roan

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[milkweedman]

I am sorry you've been harrassed by terfs, but the way you are currently trying to weed them out seems a bit misguided. As in, the vast majority of terfs are in fact ok with big hairy CIS men. The so-called men they are actively hating are trans women/transfem people. So by acting like you proclaiming your love to big hairy dudes is the best terf-repellant you seem to be missing the point at best.

i'd love to actually respond to your concerns or whatever the hell it was that you were trying to convey with this ask, but it has almost no basis in reality so i literally cant.

thats the one statement on how effective i think the banners are that has left my queue so far. which is: i hope it works but also have literally 2 other backup plans already in case it does not. i dont know why youre calling that "acting like [me] proclaiming [my] love to big hairy dudes is the best terf-repellant", because thats wildly off target from what i have actually said at any point. everything else youve said is also pretty much either dead wrong or ignorant, so im getting the feeling that you not reading has been a problem for a while.

(ive also not mentioned terfs this entire time--ive been talking about radfems and using the word radfems. they're not the same thing although there's large overlap. so like. thats strike two for zero reading comprehension, buddy. cause you are literally not talking about the group im talking about and youre also inventing whole new sentences that i didnt say.)

[tamaharu]

a sumi haircut variation ive been testing out. i wanna say its a bit post-canon, not too far off, maybe a year or so. hasnt quite figured out what to do with herself yet, but shes getting there. only a little ways away from graduation.

[getting-messi]

:(

[librarydilf]

Me, having dicked around in act one for over a month and then dicked around in act two for over a month, who has not yet finished this game even once: maybe I should restart veilguard from the beginning