#We've started talking more because what else am I supposed to do

[starpros-sunshine]

Also I have to confess when Eichi does the the "I've heard usually people do this and this" or anything in that vein as a statement it's so real to me

#speaking as someone who learned most of their way of existing from tv and movies ans audio books and audio dramas. #I wasn't confined to a hospital bed I was just very enamored with movies and TV shows and audio dramas #and never really interested in interacting with other kids #and I'm an only child #and my social life began around this winter when people started celebrating their birthdays and inviting me and hanging out and inviting me #before that I never did anything with my friend acquaintances #We're too close to be acquaintances but i don't like labeling people as friends it puts an obligation on the relationship #there's one of them i genuinely consider a friend but we mostly talk about our interests and that's where it stops #she's the only one I talk with outside of the shared WhatsApp chat and ever since her number one friend found another number one friend #We've started talking more because what else am I supposed to do #it's nice. I'm a tea drinker now. #somewhat #in movies they always have bigger friend groups but i cant manage that many relationships at once #so it's better if I reserve the term friend for people who I actually talk to outside of certain contexts #but yeah it's so interesting when life imitates art #teenagers are supposed to get drunk right recently I accidentally got drunk enough to deliver the finishing blow to an already weak glass #never doing that again imagine the things I could've revealed about myself #but it's a fascinating experience because now I can look at that in fiction and understand!! #and I've been told I'm a bit cartoonish in the way I carry myself #which is a little funny to me because I as a person am pretty apathetic to a Lot of things #few things that make me happy a lot of things that annoy me and the rest is jusg kind of in the soup #but it's fine rhats just what being normal is like i guess #i should sleep it's lateeeeee and I need to get up early tomorrow. #regrettably #enjoy the tags while you still can because those things will be going down with this post in a few hours when I'm awake again and #less uncomfortable with sharing any kind of personal information

[rayne-astrophile]

Special oneshot before Valentine's Day ends :D

Buttons - Rayne Ames x F!Reader

Notes - inspired by a comic I read when i was a child where japanese students give their shirt's button (the one in the same level as their heart) to their crush because it kind of means they give their heart to them!

- highschool!au & ooc rayne

You have a crush on Rayne Ames even before he becomes the Student Council's president. He might not remember you, but he had helped you with your homework when you first attended Easton.

Since then, you fell in love with him.

And today is Valentine's day. Students start to give their shirt's button to their crushes.

You grip yours in your hand. You want to give it to Rayne, but you're still considering it. What if he doesn't accept it? What if he doesn't like you? What if he doesn't remember you at all?

But you have promised yourself to confess your feelings for him today, on Valentine's day. It doesn't matter if he rejects you, you just want him to acknowledge your feelings.

In the end, you come to a conclusion to give him your shirt's button.

It is lunch break when you try to find Rayne. You look around the school, and finally you catch a glimpse of half blonde and half raven hair behind the class building.

Your eyes lit up as you take a step forward, but-

"Please take my button," You widen your eyes when a girl's voice reaches your ears. You immediately hide yourself at the other side of the building as you listen to the girl's confession for Rayne.

Your heart aches in pain, as the possibilities of him accepting the girl's confession still exists. You peek silently from the other side.

That girl is the student council's vice president, Judy. She is the beauty of the school, and she didn't get that title for nothing. Her blonde hair and her ocean eyes... she's just perfect. She also performs well in academics, adding to her popularity.

You're doing well with your academics, too, but you're more low key. You always hate attention.

Despite both of them being the dream partner, the students can't help but ship them. "Perfection is for perfection", they say.

That makes you ponder,

What if Rayne accepts her? Do you have no chance at all? Does he---

"I appreciate your feelings for me," Rayne's smooth voice cuts you off from your train of thoughts. "But I can't accept it. I'm sorry," he apologises as Judy slowly retreats her button. "It's fine, Rayne." She smiles as she puts her button into her pocket. "I just want to get over this feeling and focus on studying." She runs a hand through her hair.

Judy lets out a sigh as she looks at Rayne. "So, who's the lucky one? I see you already took off your button." She asks in interest.

Her sentence makes your heart shatter into pieces. You lower your head and your feet finally take you away from the scene as you put your button into your pocket.

Rayne stays silent as he looks to the side; at your previous hiding spot.

"I'm going to give it to her now."

You enter the empty class, while the other students are busy giving their buttons to their crushes. Everyone is laughing and smiling, while you're alone, doing your own things.

It is not long after that you hear the door of the classroom being pushed open.

What you do not expect is your crush walking in.

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet his golden ones, which you immediately look away. Even so, you can see him entering the class from the corner of your eyes.

"Why are you here? Don't you want to give your button to your crush?"

You raise your head to look at him as he is already (surprisingly) in front of you. You look around the class before pointing to yourself, "You're asking me?"

Rayne visibly frowns. "Who else would I be talking to if it's not you? Do you see anyone else in this class, (Last name)?"

You gape your mouth, "Y-You know me?" You ask in disbelief. His frown darkens as he furrows his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?" He mutters. "We've been classmates since our first year."

You look away timidly as you brush a strand of your hair to the back of your ear, only for it to fall back. "I didn't think you'd remember me," you whisper softly, which is audible to him.

"And why'd you think that?"

Is he always this talkative? You are already screaming on the inside.

"I..." you trail your eyes away from him. "Have... have you given your button to your crush?"

His frown is even more visible when you change the topic. He lets out a sigh, but he wants to get over it anyway.

"I was going to give it to her," he murmurs. "Do you think she'll accept it?" His question makes you confused. Why would he want your opinion?

"Of course she will. You're everyone's crush, you know?" You mumble, your voice is barely above a whisper.

But he still can hear it.

"Is that so?" He asks, and you can barely see the corners of his lips lift up as he reaches out his fist to you. "Then, you'll accept this, right?"

He opens his fist, revealing a button in his palm. Your eyes widen as you look at him in disbelief.

"W-What?"

Rayne trails his eyes away from you. "It's okay if you don't want to. I see you, too, have taken off your button." He lowers his hand, only for you to take it into yours.

"N-No! I..." you stutter as you take out your own button from your pocket. Hesitantly, you put the small object on his palm. "You can take mine. I-I can't possibly take yours,"

Rayne stares at the two buttons on his palm before locking his eyes with yours. "Why not?" You lower your head as you fiddle your hands on your lap. "I-I just can't believe it. You can't possibly have feelings for someone like me-"

"Let me prove it to you, then."

You flinch when his warm hand cups your cheek and lifts your head up to face him. Before you knew it, his soft lips pressed against yours, taking your breath away.

He moves his lips with a gentle, delicate movement as his other hand rests on your nape, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You find yourself lost in his kiss as you grip the hem of your skirt, your cheeks burning and your heart beating faster than ever.

Seconds feel like eternity for you until Rayne finally pulls away. His tongue runs on his lower lip as his golden eyes stare into yours.

"Is that enough?" He asks breathlessly, his own cheeks heating up as you are already as red as a beautiful rose. "I-I..." you stutter, struggling to arrange your words.

"It's still not enough, I see."

You gasp, "Wait-"

Before you can finish your sentence, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands move from your nape to your waist, pulling you closer, earning a gasp from you, and he takes advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes every inch of your mouth as he turns your bodies around so that your back is against the desk. His hand on your waist moves onto your desk, trapping you as he kisses you passionately.

After what seems like forever, he finally pulls away. He looks over to the door before looking back at you. "Seems like the other students are still not coming back," he hums. "I've been waiting to do this since our first year," he mutters, his thumb brushes against your lower lip. His eyes stare into yours as he leans in, hungry for more.

The moment the sentence escapes his lips, you figure, that him, too, has fallen ever since your first encounter.

BYE

#mashle x reader #mashle #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #magic and muscles

[whydon-twego]

Courtship

"I want to court you" Merlin, lying naked beside him, sighs heavily and turns to look at him. "We've been over this, Arthur" Arthur remains silent for a few seconds, his fists closed and his teeth biting his lower lip because Arthur does not want to blurt out on the matter, not this time. "If I could woo you openly the nobles would not be piling like lions on a carcass!" Merlin raises an eyebrow and looks at him with an amused air "Am I a carcass now?" "You know what I mean!" Merlin sighs. "Is it because of Lord Smith?" Arthur does not reply and that is an answer in itself. "Arthur, you know perfectly well that I have no interest in anyone else, in any way, ever. And you know perfectly well that since you made me Court Sorcerer I can say no to anyone I want. So Lord Smith, like all the other Lords before him, got a resounding no for an answer." Arthur now turns to look at him, his eyebrows furrowed in contrition. "But there would be no need for all this if only we could say publicly that we are together" Merlin is tired of this talk, he is tired of Arthur bringing it up at every opportunity, and he is tired of always having to be the one to say no. "You need a queen by your side, Arthur. You need someone who can run a kingdom and help you run it and that someone is not me, more importantly, you need someone to give you an heir, and that someone is certainly not me." Arthur jumps out of bed and Merlin misses his presence, misses the warmth radiating from Arthur's body, his smell.

"You've known this about me for as long as we've known each other, Merlin, I will only marry for love and, above all, I will not have a Favourite, a lover or whatever the hell you want to call them"

Arthur is angry, wandering around the room always in his nudity and seems to have no intention of dressing even for this (umpteenth) speech.

Merlin's heart breaks a little.

"Yes, I know."

Of course Merlin knows, of course he is more than aware.

At that, Arthur's sky-blue eyes rise and go to rest on Merlin and Merlin has never seen him so serious.

"So you… so you think I'm going to get out of that bed one day and wake up a changed man? You think I'm going to wake up one day and think 'well, I'm not in love with Merlin anymore, I can move on'?"

Merlin's throat went dry and his eyes wide.

"Don't you dare, Merlin. You can't make that face, you can't be surprised to hear me say I'm in love with you. What did you think this was all about, a little game?"

"Hearing you say it is still different, alright?"

Arthur raises his arms to the sky and shrugs at him, starting to walk back and forth across the room, Merlin gets up to sit on the bed.

"You've been sleeping in my bed for over a year, Merlin. It's been more than a year that I've made you Lord, it's been more than a year that I've been going on and on asking you to begin a courtship in the light of day. What did you think that meant? Was I supposed to say it out loud? Well, I'll say it out loud: I'm in love with you, Merlin. For over ten years now if memory serves and I don't think it will be such a passing thing, your continued refusal of a courtship will only lead to a King ruling alone, unbelievably unhappy and sad when he has what he desires just a few mere steps away."

Merlin has brought his knees up to his chest as self-defence, because his heart is hammering so hard that he is afraid it might burst out of his ribcage.

Arthur approaches and in a few strides he is back on the bed, next to Merlin who is looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Arthur…"

"In fact, you know what, Merlin? I am your king and I am an incredibly fed up king, I command you to accept my courtship!"

Merlin stares at him for a few moments, astonished, and then bursts out laughing.

"You know it never did any good to order me anything."

Arthur is lying beside him now, looking at him hopefully.

"I am ready to accept any responsibility for it"

Merlin leans down to kiss him because otherwise he might do something as stupid as cry.

"I love you, too" he whispers.

"I know, because apparently I'm not the dollop-head in this relationship."

Merlin throws a pillow at him.

Arthur gets up and goes to announce to the court that he is about to begin a courtship with his Court Sorcerer.

"Put your clothes on at least, before you go out!"

Arthur does not. Merlin is madly in love with this too.

#merthur #merthur prompt #merthur idea #merthur fanfic #merlin prompt #merlin fanfic #merlin idea #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #king arthur #king arthur pendragon #melrin bbc #bbc merlin #courtship #my writing

[adore-laur]

MILESTONES

— a series of firsts from the dadrry universe 🩵

——

The First Hunch

Intuition seemed to follow Harry around the house like a ghostly shadow.

The irregular morning sickness could have been entirely coincidental. Still, the moment you lost the hopeless battle of keeping your eyes open and eventually drifted off beside him was the indisputable sign he had been seeking. You, the person he knew like the back of his hand, were succumbing to a nap before dinner. The notably rare occurrence was a spectacle to behold, and he didn't move a single muscle except for his heart that wildly thumped in his chest at the mere thought of it being true.

You had to be pregnant. No other conclusion could be drawn.

When you awoke an hour later in an evening daze with mellow light from the sunset casting a silhouette of the open shutters on your face, Harry found it amusing how disoriented your expression was. It was almost as if you were astonished at how your body managed to do a simple human function, such as letting yourself fall asleep. He gazed down at you and raised his eyebrows with an unspoken assumption of what you had been so futilely denying to him and yourself.

"Don't say anything," you said through a yawn before he could make a witty comment.

Harry kissed your forehead and knowingly smiled against it. "Just take a test, love. There's no use in putting it off any longer."

"I'm scared,” you mumbled.

"Why?" he asked softly, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. You rubbed your tired eyes while sinking into his embrace. "We've talked about how much we want this."

"It's still scary.”

Harry swallowed thickly. Hell, he was scared too. Priorities shift tectonically once a baby is born and brought home to be raised for eighteen years. How did a person even go about preparing for that enormous of a responsibility? It was always nice to fantasize about until the harsh realities of parenthood caused him to spiral mentally.

"Well," he said with a loving pinch to your cheek, "I think it's a girl."

You grinned into the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Have you been reading up on things already?"

"Maybe," he mused. Setting his feet on the ottoman, he continued, "Look at me for a second." You did, and he absentmindedly stroked his thumb across your stomach. "Tell me that you don't think you're pregnant."

A wary pause ensued. Your unintentional signals were as clear as day.

"I think I am," you whispered.

"For real?"

"Harry, you're the one who's so confident I am."

"I know, but... do you actually feel like there's a baby?" His palms turned clammy when he said it out loud. "It's your body. I'm just guessing based on mum blogs I read online."

You pursed your lips, then replied, "What else could it be? My period was supposed to start two weeks ago. And I've been nauseated recently."

"Do you want to take a test soon?" he asked, trying to steady his ragged breathing.

You nodded briskly. "Sure. I'll buy some after work tomorrow."

"Promise me," he pleaded, a slight impatience taking over him of wanting—no, needing—to confirm it once and for all.

"I promise. We'll find out this week." You were deliberately quiet for a moment before you asked, "Why do you think it's a girl?"

Harry immediately perked up and held his pointer finger in the air. "An old wives' tale claims that—"

"Stop right there," you interrupted with a hand to his chest.

"No, hear me out." He laughed contagiously and cradled your cheeks. "They say if you crave sweets, then it's a girl. Remember when you begged me to make cinnamon rolls for breakfast a couple of days ago? I had to go to the store for more milk because you were on the verge of tears."

You narrowed your eyes. "Everyone gets cravings, though. It doesn't mean they're pregnant. Or that it's a girl."

He frowned and said, "You're starting to sound like you don't want to be pregnant."

"I do," you replied frantically, kissing his precious pout. "I do, Harry. I want a baby with you more than anything."

"Then let's find out. There's nothing to be afraid of."

——

The First Heartbeat 

Boundless possibilities could either leave you in a state of serenity or absolute shambles. The thin paper on the exam table crunched under you when you shifted restlessly for the umpteenth time, your jittery limbs bouncing with each second that noisily ticked by on the clock. Shirt bunched up to your ribcage, you awaited the gel that would be spread on your stomach. The skin there had become a little firmer during the previous week, yet somehow pudgier.

Harry stood next to you, his face visibly flushed with an equal amount of anxiousness. He looked around the room with observant eyes, scanning the daunting equipment and colorful pamphlets that presented themselves to eager parents-to-be.

He got off work early and rushed to the hospital to meet you, still in the grubby clothes he wore in the restaurant kitchen. You noticed his fingernails were bitten raw when he grabbed your elbow and leaned in for a kiss hello. Gentle and nervous smiles had been exchanged before the two of you walked down the hallway toward the elevators, your arms looped around his waist.

As the ultrasound gel was applied with an icy sensation that made you jolt, you held your breath and locked eyes with your husband.

"Is it cold?" he whispered, wringing his hands together.

"Yeah," you answered just as quietly.

The room was so still you could probably hear a pin drop. You inhaled deeply when the doctor moved the transducer wand around your lower stomach. Harry cleared his throat and broke eye contact with you to watch the computer screen that displayed a blurry black-and-white view of your womb. It was strange to see the inside of your body and even more strange to know a baby was growing in there.

After a painstaking moment, the device finally picked up on the most beautiful, muffled heartbeat. It wasn't your own, and it wasn't Harry's—it was your baby's. A lub-dub rhythm that was your responsibility to bring into the world.

Harry whistled in amazement and pressed two shaky fingers against his lips. He glanced between you and the screen several times before touching his heart and rubbing the spot. A reaction took over him that you had never seen before. Tears welled in his eyes, and a transfixed smile dimpled his cheeks. A sentimental ache bloomed in your chest, caused by love for him and his vulnerability.

"They've got a very strong and healthy heartbeat," said the doctor while adjusting the screen monitor.

You stared at the ultrasound showing a blob with no distinguishable features or anatomy, yet it was somehow part of you and part of the man you lived and breathed for.

"Harry, look," you said through an emotionally tightened throat.

He crouched beside you and sniffled. "I see, sweetheart."

"How far along am I?" you asked the doctor, blindly reaching for Harry's hand.

"Around eight weeks," they told you, clicking their pocket pen and writing down information. "As for your due date, you guys will be looking forward to early November!"

Harry clutched your hand, leaving a prolonged kiss on your knuckles. "An autumn baby," he murmured against your skin. He then turned his attention to the doctor and asked, "Can we please have copies of the ultrasound pictures to hang on the fridge at home?"

The timing was perfect. The color of the leaves would change the same way your lives would together. It would be a season filled with pure bliss and a turning of the tide. The end of the year would give you a love you could cherish forever.

——

The First Cry 

"Is she breathing?"

It was the first string of words that tumbled from Harry's mouth after you gave birth. Babies were supposed to cry once they came into the world. Why wasn't she crying? Where were the shrieks he had prepared for months to hear?

Nurses crowded around you as she was pulled out all the way and set on your chest, her squirming body sensitive to the air. It was beautiful chaos happening in slow motion. Harry felt like he was floating outside of his body, feeling a surreal concoction of confusion, euphoria, and hysteria.

"W-what... why isn't she crying?" you choked out breathlessly. Your body was shaking due to the immediate shift in hormones.

Two nurses roughly rubbed your daughter with towels until she gurgled a high-pitched wail. Relief, relief, relief. Nothing could quite encapsulate Harry's raw emotion when he heard that sound come from a fresh pair of baby lungs. It was piercingly loud and overwhelming, yet heavenly to his ears.

Harry stepped forward with a wide smile. "There she is," he said, his voice scratchy. "She's here, love. She's breathing."

Your hands, wavering and sweaty, cautiously cupped your daughter's fragile figure. With that first maternal touch, you broke down with a cascading waterfall of tears.

"Hi, baby girl," you cried happily. "Shh, it's okay. You scared us for a second."

Eyes glossy, lips trembling, and heart growing tenfold, Harry was lost in admiration. The scene surrounding him was a mess, and it was merely an afterthought in his mind. He had never been so mesmerized by someone except for the day he married you. Even so, this was a different type of love—one that had flourished over nine months and was now a tangible fondness lasting for eternity.

Absent nods and weak affirmations were given to the nurse's questions thrown his way. The bubble he was in simply couldn't be popped. You scooted over on the hospital bed so he could sit next to you while they suctioned his daughter's tiny mouth, nose, and ears. Her cries were still going strong, and Harry soaked them in as he smoothed over the back of her small head with his hand. She had a decent amount of hair, courtesy of his genes, and something about that realization broke the dam behind his eyes.

When he blearily looked at your awestruck face, he knew he had made the right choice. The mother of his baby girl. And, if he got lucky, a couple other bundles of joy as well. It had to be you. No one else made him feel as complete as you did.

"We had a baby," you whispered in disbelief, staring at him with eyes rapt in wonder.

Through his tears, Harry laughed with astonishment. "It was all you. Do you hear me? All you." He kissed your dewy cheekbone. "I'm so grateful. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

You exhaled heavily and murmured, "I'm starving."

"When we get home, I'm going to cook you the best damn meal you've ever had in your life."

——

The First Smile 

Harry entered the sunlit nursery with dragging movements similar to those of a zombie. He had only one sock on and the staticky-sounding baby monitor tucked under his armpit.

That morning, a whopping four hours of interrupted sleep was the new record. The days and nights blended together like watercolor on wet paper, and no amount of espresso shots or afternoon naps could cure his poor, sleep-deprived soul. His circadian rhythm had now changed to a cadence of chaos, and there was nothing he could do about it. The millisecond he became a dad, a certain little someone shifted to the number one spot on his list of priorities.

After turning on the lamp in the corner of the room and setting the baby monitor down, Harry leaned against the bassinet and let his baby girl's subsiding cries wake him up just like a freshly brewed pot of coffee would. They made him feel sad, but if getting up at the same time as the sun meant they could be soothed somehow (and that you could get more shut-eye), then he would do it over and over again.

Harry eventually reached down to pull his daughter's tiny body against his bare chest. It made his heart swell how she always calmed in his arms. "Already up and at 'em, huh?" he rasped, giving her his knuckle to suckle on since the whereabouts of her pacifier were unknown. She cooed and looked at him with curious eyes that resembled yours. "Why are you so precious all the time? Got me so wrapped around your finger that I couldn't possibly be mad at you for waking me up this early."

She kicked her legs outward, apparently a happy camper now that she got some love from her dad. Harry shook his head in amusement. "Were those fake cries?" he accused lightheartedly.

Once he changed her diaper and stole a few minutes of snuggles before she started becoming fussy again, his next destination was the kitchen, where most mornings began as a new family of three. Opening the fridge decorated with baby pictures galore and a calendar scribbled full of upcoming postpartum appointments, he grabbed the first bag of breast milk he saw and then took an empty baby bottle out of the dishwasher so he could make her breakfast. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had the energy to cook himself a nourishing meal before noon.

Harry attempted to screw on the cap of the bottle using only one hand since his other was being occupied by a hungry, babbling baby. His face grew hot with frustration when the cap kept resisting being twisted, and it definitely didn't help when the bottle tipped straight over, causing valuable milk to spill onto the counter. Nice going, idiot. That wasn't good at all. He dreaded delivering the news to you, especially considering you recently told him how pumping felt like an extreme sport.

"Well, that's just wonderful," he muttered while looking down at his daughter, wholly prepared for her to literally cry over spilled milk.

But no, she didn't cry. Instead, she smiled at him for the first time. A gummy, wonky baby smile that woke him right up.

Harry gasped in surprise and completely forgot about the milk mishap, his heart pounding. "Are you smiling at me? Holy sh— I mean, shoot. We gotta show your mum. Wait, she's sleeping. Um, okay, hold on." He aimlessly scanned the kitchen for his phone. "Keep smiling, okay? I need to take a picture of this."

He abandoned the 'no phone around the baby' rule and rounded the corner of the island. In the process, he accidentally hit his side on the edged corner, causing him to stifle a groan. His clumsiness made his daughter smile even wider, along with a noise that could be interpreted as a giggle if he believed hard enough. And if he looked close enough, he could make out two miniature dimples indenting her cheeks.

He picked up his phone, and with the rays of the golden sunrise dancing over her happy face, he snapped a picture while his face beamed behind the camera. "Look at you," he cooed, pressing the capture button repeatedly. "Is my struggling funny to you? Hmm? Just wait until mommy sees this. She'll freak out."

After he put his phone away, which now had nineteen new keepsakes in its photo album, he observed her a little longer. At that moment, a sudden realization dawned upon him.

His daughter's smile looked a lot like his own.

——

The First Year 

Hot wax dripped from the candle in the shape of the number one, making a black mark on the cake's blue fondant. It took the combined respiratory strength of three people to blow the puny flame out. Afterward, there was a brief pause in the festivities to settle a crying baby because it escaped Harry's adult mind that babies don't know how candles — or birthdays in general — work.

The cake was made with admirable precision that he somehow pulled off using his amateur cake-decorating skills from ages ago. Piped seashells made from buttercream frosting sat atop the circular cake, and a message of Happy Birthday was spelled out in dainty cursive icing. A graham cracker and sugar concoction caressed the bottom edges to resemble sand, and an impressive starfish cookie rested against the side. She wouldn't remember the cake, or the day for that matter, but Harry definitely would.

Once the slices were eaten, it was time to clean up for the night. The cheap chandelier hanging over the kitchen table shined upon a dirty mess of paper plates, plastic utensils, and opened presents containing toys aplenty.

"I need a shower," you told him, an exhausted sputter leaving your lips after you threw all the crumpled napkins away. "Do you mind cleaning the rest?"

"Not at all. C'mere." Harry loosely grabbed your elbow and pulled you toward him, smacking a vanilla-flavored kiss onto your mouth. "Love you. Go relax."

You thumbed away some frosting on his chin. "Don't put her to bed without me, okay?"

He smiled softly and stole another kiss, slower this time. "I won't. We're actually planning on partying all night."

You just laughed and made your way upstairs. Harry took it upon himself to clean the kitchen until it was spotless for you. He had been genuinely trying to help more around the house since motherhood is no easy feat on the body and mind. Taking an extra load off your shoulders was the least he could do as part of his lifelong repayment for giving him the most extraordinary experience imaginable.

After every surface was scoured clean, he walked over to his daughter and kneeled, observing her childlike wonder as she smeared frosting on the tray of her highchair. Curious eyes distracted, he felt a crashing wave of emotion wash over him. It just didn't seem possible that an entire year had already passed by. Wasn't it just yesterday that he unbuckled her from her car seat and showed her around her forever home? Didn't her newborn fingers curl instinctively around his thumb whenever he pressed it to her palm? Hadn't she only been something he dreamed about with you?

If he thought about it too much, he'd start weeping.

"Stop growing, please," Harry said while scrubbing her sticky fingers with a baby wipe. "I know you need to, but it's killing me inside."

She looked up at the sound of his voice. "Da da da da," she babbled, fists excitedly hitting the tray and becoming dirty again.

He sighed and decided to give her a sink bath before bedtime. "Yes, I'm your dad. And you need to listen to him when he tells you to stop growing, yeah?"

"No!" Her new favorite word was spoken shamelessly, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"All right, little lady. Keep breaking my heart, then."

She raised her arms. "Up."

After standing with a huff, Harry lifted her in the air and shook her body playfully until she let out an infectious burst of giggles. Tickles came next, an innocent attack on her belly as she squirmed over his shoulder. He held onto her kicking legs and stomped up the stairs dramatically, making a right turn into the master bedroom. A gentle toss of her on the bed had her giggling even louder.

"An entire year of loving you," he said, kissing her cheeks repeatedly. "Happy birthday, lovebug."

——

The Last Night 

There used to be a time when her legs couldn't wrap all the way around Harry's waist because they were simply too short. What were once chunky baby legs that happily kicked against his rib cage turned into toddler ones that kicked because they wanted to run free.

No more holding her sideways while she fit like a puzzle piece in the crook of his elbow. No more swaddling her tightly in a blanket after a midnight meltdown. No more tummy time, carrying her in a sling, or being there to catch her whenever she tried to walk on her own. Her dependence was slipping away.

Time was slipping away even faster.

Often, he looked back on all the moments he had taken for granted with his firstborn. Those screeching cries that wouldn't stop no matter what, leaving him with a daylong migraine and maybe a side of tears. Those tantrums that left him feeling defeated and on edge, only to end with her just wanting to be held by him. Those summer evenings on the beach, only him and her lying on a blanket and watching the sun go down while he answered all her nonsensical questions about the world around her.

Tomorrow, the date circled on the calendar's December page would allow Harry to relive those moments. However, it would be with an entirely new person he's never met. It'd be undeniably different — an accustomed bond to be formed and a shift in dynamic to adjust to. A challenge of keeping two humans safe instead of one.

Was he ready for that?

"Are you ready to be a big sister?" Harry asked the tiresome, limp child in his arms. Might as well pass off the question to someone unaware of it all.

"No."

He laughed at the confidence with which she answered. "I understand. It's a huge responsibility, but you'll be a natural. That's what your mom told me before you were born."

She nodded slowly against his shoulder, most likely oblivious to what he said. "Wanna go night-night."

"I know." The weight of his soul sunk, realizing time was ticking by faster than he'd like it to. "Let me hold you for a while longer. Is that okay?" Another nod. "You can fall asleep, darling. I promise I'll carry you to bed and tuck you in."

"Where's Mama?" she asked with her sweet, soft voice.

Harry rubbed soothing circles on her back, and tears stung behind his eyes for some reason. "She needs rest just like you do," he explained vaguely, not wanting to talk about the pre-labor pain you had been so gracefully pushing through the entire day. "Grandma's taking you to the park tomorrow, so you can't be cranky."

"Okay," she mumbled, approximately thirty seconds from a dream-filled sleep.

After swiping a finger down her button nose to get her eyes to flutter shut, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and steadily hiked up the staircase toward her room. He checked on you when he passed the master bedroom, finding you hunched over the bed and swaying through a contraction. It hurt to see you in such discomfort.

Harry opened the door to his daughter's bedroom, laid her in her toddler bed, and tucked the blanket around her body like he did every night. "Sleep well, sweetheart. Don't grow up overnight."

Her eyes popped open, and she was suddenly wide awake due to not being in his arms anymore. "'I'm not tired."

"You just said you wanted to go night-night!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Go to sleep, crazy girl," he told her, ruffling her hair. Your mum needs me right now. Can you tell your angels and fairies to make her feel better?"

She hummed an affirmation and settled down. Harry's lips twitched into a smile, and he spread his arms out in his unvoiced gesture of love. She immediately spread her arms out too.

"Love you this big," she said cutely.

"Love you even bigger," he replied, gently pinching her cheek.

Doubt, incompetence, and fear swirled in his stomach when he realized that come tomorrow, he would no longer have his paternal attention solely focused on the little girl in front of him. His chest ached for her, knowing how hard it'd be to adjust to someone who required more nurture and care under the same roof. He'd just have to share his love, and his heart was more than capacious enough to manage that.

Before Harry turned off the lights, he confessed a secret that had only been shared between them. "You'll always be my biggest love."

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #dadrry #dilfrry #harry styles #milestones #adore-laur

[timemachineyeah]

I really, really need you to elaborate on this note you left on a post. I'm fascinated.

If you don't I'm sure I'll survive but this is an absolutely intriguing concept.

Whoooo, yeah, let's talk about Mormon theology and cosmology!!!

In response to me saying that this is basically Mormon theology, because it absolutely is

(I swear, being raised Mormon, and especially the studious and serious kind, and then leaving the church is like that bit in the first episode of The Office where they think they might be getting shut down and Jim says something like, "I know so much about paper. What I am supposed to do with all this knowledge if I don't work here any more." Like I never got very far in The Office, but I think about that feeling all the time.)

From the book of Mormon, 2nd Nephi Chapter 2:

22 And now, behold, if Adam had not transgressed he would not have fallen, but he would have remained in the garden of Eden. And all things which were created must have remained in the same state in which they were after they were created; and they must have remained forever, and had no end. 23 And they would have had no children; wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin. 24 But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things. 25 Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

Also worth noting that Mormons are so opposed to original sin that it's actually the second of the 13 Articles of Faith, which I had to memorize in grade school. The only article that comes before it is the one saying we believe in God, Jesus, and The Holy Ghost.

"2 We believe that men will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam’s transgression."

And stealing from the church's official current website on the topic

President Joseph Fielding Smith (1876–1972) said: “I never speak of the part Eve took in this fall as a sin, nor do I accuse Adam of a sin. … This was a transgression of the law, but not a sin … for it was something that Adam and Eve had to do!”

Adam's fall is considered an unequivocal good to Mormons. So this whole take on theology taps into two very import Mormon principles.

The first is "agency", "free agency", or "free will". This basically boils down to: you can't grow, your actions can't matter, if you don't have a choice. The ability to choose is power, and we are here specifically to experience that freedom and to learn how to use it.

This was actually the basis of a premortal war (don't ask how folks without bodies who can't die do a war, I've no idea) between Lucifer and Jesus, because Lucifer wanted to guarantee everyone's salvation by eliminating the ability to choose wrong. The losing side was cast out of heaven and that's where Satan and demons come from!

Here have a musical number about from a VHS I used to watch constantly (in case the link malfunctions, relevant song starts at 10:55)

The second is, "opposition". Basically, things can only exist in contrast. You can only truly recognize something in comparison to something else. Ergo, a world without suffering or sin is also a world without joy or virtue. It is a nothing world. Here, a worse song from the same musical! (starts at 8:57)

By this principle, the Garden of Eden, while wonderful from the outside in retrospect, was not wonderful from within, because Adam and Eve had no frame of reference for it. To them it was just Existence, and as an existence was fairly bland.

Another thing to understand here is that Mormons believe in a premortal existence. We are all, spiritually, as ancient as God is. We've all always existed. Another Mormon principle is one of "Eternal Progress" - the idea that we are always on a journey to improve, and are capable of improving to even the state of Heavenly Father.

I remember asking once if Heavenly Father was done progressing, and told we can't possibly know, but it's possible that even He has more progress to make. But if so, we can't possibly comprehend what he is progressing towards and it's not relevant to us now.

It's important to realize that "As man is, God once was. As God is, man might become" is, like, central to Mormon theology. We aren't lesser things than God, just not as far progressed. He's among the first caterpillars to figure out how to make a chrysalis and become a butterfly and he's trying to show us how to do the same.

Regardless, a necessary step to this progress, to growth, is to live a mortal physical life in a body. A body is so important that Mormons believe at the second coming everyone who ever lived will be resurrected into "perfect" eternal immortal bodies. (This ALL creates MANY logistical and theological problems but we don't have time for all that!)

Other necessary steps include compulsive heterosexuality, marriage, and having children. Because of course.

But if God's power is not innate, but rather something he has gained by being Perfectly Good And Noble - which is like the Force or something - then he isn't truly omnipotent. He is so powerful and omniscient that to us mere mortals the distinction is meaningless, but God cannot endorse harm or cruelty without potentially losing his Godhood. Godhood is conditional upon good behavior. Morality is a natural force in the universe that can be utilized, but! See above about opposition! And free will! To utilize it, you have to be capable of knowingly being bad and choose good anyway!

This puts God in kind of a bind when it comes to guiding humanity.

He needs people to have knowledge of good and evil, but if he gives it to them directly, he'd kinda be doing a bad thing? Like, he'd be causing suffering to just force knowledge of good and evil upon us. The suffering can't be something inflicted upon humanity, it has to be a product of human choice. And choice is essential, but to learn to make choices, first you must be presented with simple ones.

Like Adam and Eve are immortal, physical, useless baby adults who cannot progress. They need to progress, and they also need to get to boning or else all the other spirit children waiting in heaven to be born will not have bodies.

So God sets up a little trap. A little trick. Just a fun little -just a fun little game.

He puts a tree in the garden and he's like, "Just leaving this over here. Don't touch it. But it's right here. See it? Right here. Just making sure you saw it. Yeah, don't touch it. In fact, two commandments for you.

Go have kids

Don't eat that fruit"

And Adam and Eve are like, "cool, great, awesome."

And God is like, really loudly in front of Lucifer/The Snake like, "Oh noooooooo. I sure hope they don't eat from this treeeeee. That would be terrrrrrible! They'd learn about SIN and BECOME MORTAL." and Satan is like "tehehehe I have a great idea!"

Meanwhile Eve, who is currently a metaphysical biological immortal, does not know what sex is and has no sex drive. She's like, "Sooooo? The kids part? How that?"

And the snake is like "You can find out, but you gotta eat this fruit" (true! this is Eden, it is still free from sin. The snake cannot lie here, yet. Because folk Mormon theology - Satan can't lie! That's a fun fact about him. He twists and manipulates truths, but lying is a Mortal gift we got from the whole Fruit thing that Eve is about to do)

And Eve is like, "Yeah, sure, I want babies. God told me to have them so...." and eats the fruit exactly as God intended her to, tempted by the snake exactly as God planned. And she was like, "Oh! I WANNA BONE ADAM. ADAM EAT THIS SO YOU KNOW WHAT BONING IS SO I CAN BONE YOU."

But then they were materially and metaphysically changed, so they couldn't stay in the Garden anymore. Less about casting out, more about God having to follow the Moral Metaphysical Laws that give him his power.

I was even taught it's not even that childbirth/periods/menstrual pain were punishments from God. They are just natural results of sexual reproduction and the part where God says that's gonna happen now isn't him giving Eve a curse, just kinda God giving Eve some sex ed. Since she'll need it.

Basically, God couldn't tell Adam and Eve to eat the fruit, and in fact was morally obligated to tell them not to, because doing so would cause suffering and death. But the suffering and death aren't a punishment from God, they're just facts about the world that become real when you know about them, but you have to know about them and experience them in order to know and experience good things also, and become closer to being a god yourself, and God wanted us to have good things, so he wanted us to eat that fruit. Which is why he put it there.

So very much like leaving water out for a cat who thinks they're being naughty but actually you just want your cat to be hydrated.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles observed: “This suggested contrast between a sin and a transgression reminds us of the careful wording in the second article of faith: ‘We believe that men will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam’s transgression’ (emphasis added). It also echoes a familiar distinction in the law. Some acts, like murder, are crimes because they are inherently wrong. Other acts, like operating without a license, are crimes only because they are legally prohibited. Under these distinctions, the act that produced the Fall was not a sin—inherently wrong—but a transgression—wrong because it was formally prohibited. These words are not always used to denote something different, but this distinction seems meaningful in the circumstances of the Fall.”

And before any baby Mormons come in here like, "nuh uh!" about any part of this, your "eternal truths" have been so watered down in the past several decades by leadership trying to seem mainstream and cling to hemorrhaging membership. Y'all don't even know your theology anymore half the time, and what's worse is it's just as toxic as ever but like 200% less interesting. I like Mormonism better when they're proudly declaring Bigfoot is Cain and talking about how John the Beloved already has an immortal body and has been wandering the world for 2000 years and confidently claiming he was the stranger who helped them fix a tire that one time.

#timemachine wuz here #mormon

[swordofsun]

@scoobydoodean had been posting about 4x17 It's A Terrible Life and it's reminded me of one of my favorite overlooked bits in the episode and how it shows that Zachariah is just wrong about Dean.

Zachariah's whole theory with this little experiment is that Dean will choose hunting.

ZACHARIAH To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it.

But Dean has expressly denied hunting already at the end of the last act:

SAM Look, all I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be. DEAN No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo. SAM When was the last time you talked to them? To any of them? DEAN Okay, you're upset. You're upset, you're confused— SAM Yeah, 'cause I only moved here 'cause I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital. DEAN Okay. What are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on. SAM All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know—I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag. This isn't you. I know you. DEAN Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go. SAM leaves.

Sam tried to get Dean to drop everything and go hunting. They stopped a ghost! It was fun! They could do this, but Dean's not going to give up his life for it. Dean has no intention of turning his life upside down to start hunting and it's not until Zachariah lays out one of the most depressing 10 year plan ever:

ADLER Positive. You are Sandover material, son. Real go-getter. Carving your own way. DEAN Well, thanks. I try. ADLER I see big things in your future. Maybe even senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong, you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk, but in eight to ten short years, that could be you. DEAN takes off his headset. DEAN Uh, well, thank you. Thank you, sir. It's, um...but... DEAN passes the paper back. DEAN I am giving my notice.

He's already the director of marketing and sales and his career plan is 10 years of nothing but work to make VP of a division? Probably a small division? Everyone would quit with that laid out. Maybe not as directly as Dean does, but yeah, they'd be going home and revamping the resume. That's a dead end career path you'd have to bust your ass and give up your life for.

Hearing that and going "hmm, maybe I take some time and check out that hunting thing with that Wesson guy. He was less creepy once we started working on the haunting, for the most part" is actually a pretty normal thing to do.

And really Zachariah doesn't even give him the chance to go find Sam. Because there's actually a good chance Dean gets home and after thinking about it he just updates his resume and LinkedIn. He had to give Dean back his memories in that exact moment in order to try and leverage the situation to his advantage.

Zachariah stacked the deck and still barely managed to get Dean to quit his job. Dean wasn't running to hunting with open arms. He was, at best, looking at it as a more viable option than the shitty 10 year plan Mr. Adler just laid out. And Zachariah couldn't wait for him to actually choose hunting, he had to strike before Dean could second guess himself.

(Even Sam is making the choice between IT support call center or ghost hunting. This isn't hard.)

4x17 Transcript

#supernatural #04x17 it's a terrible life

[quillsareswords]

A little blurb for me 👉👈 QFWW

What if the boys (Jon & Dami) wanted to make Valentine's day super special but the chaotic duo just make a mess of things but it ends up being even more endearing. Like wanting to bring reader flowers but something comes up and the bouquet never makes it home fully intact. Or breakfast in bed but the kitchen looks like a disaster and one of the boys ends up with Distract Reader But Don't Make It Suspicious Duty™ so that they don't see the mess. Something super cute and chaotic :))

WARNINGS: language, talk of food, mentions of bike crash, 2,000 words of poly garble just for you 😘

See Three is the Luckiest Number master list for more poly fics!

MASTER LIST in BIO

   "She knows something is up." Jon whispers, eyes cutting toward you nervously.

   "Of course she does. You're whispering and looking at her every seven seconds like you're trying to hide something."

   "I am hiding something!"

   "Shh!"

   You look up from your book through your eyelashes. They're right where they were the last time Jon got a little too loud: standing in the kitchen, pretending to make dinner. Pretending, because there's been an empty pot sitting on the stove for ten minutes.

   They've been acting strangely the last few days. Jon more so than Damian. You really hope it's something to do with the upcoming holiday and not something serious that they're trying to keep from you.

   "Everything okay in there?" you call, skimming the page in your lap for the line you left off of.

   "Fine," they respond in unison.

   It's probably fine.

   "This is the exact opposite of fine," Jon hisses. "It was supposed to be here days ago."

   "I've reported it missing and a replacement won't be here for two weeks at best. There isn't anything else we can do about it now." Damian drums his fingers against the counter. "We have to come up with something else."

   Jon bites down on the nail of his thumb. "V-Day is in three days. We have no time."

   "We've overcome worse." Damian assures. Armageddon, alien apocalypse, city-wide bomb threats. Surely they can handle a last-minute Valentine's Day gift, right? "We just need to…get creative."

   Jon's shoulders cave toward his chest anxiously. "Okay, well, I know what she got you, and a macaroni necklace is not comparable."

   Damian, out of the kindness of his own heart, resists every urge not to roll his eyes at his darling boyfriend. "Not that kind of creative," he corrects. "Perhaps instead of a gift, we do something for her."

   Jon's eyebrows raise. Damian senses his skewed thought process like waves in a pool.

   "Food, Jon. We should make her food."

•••

   Damian keeps forgetting to fix his ringtone. It always slips his mind until he’s somewhere in public, like walking to his next lecture, trying to seem imposing in front of his peers with his nice sweater and his heavy peacoat, and his phone starts screaming Lady Gaga’s poker face.

   “...and Baby, when it’s love if it’s not rough it isn’t fun~!”

   He almost rips his pocket open trying to get a hold of the fucking thing.

   “Jon, if you ever touch my phone again-”

   “You’ll torture me and all that extra fun stuff, I know, I know. You have my full consent.”

  Damian rolls his eyes with a huff and ducks away from the main walkway. “I take it this isn’t an emergency, then?” Because, in typical Wayne fashion, it’s always his gut reaction.

   “No…well, I mean, not really.”

   He jerks to a halt. “What? Are you alright?”

   “Yeah! Yeah, sorry, I’m fine, everybody’s fine. But, um…Did you order the chocolates?”

   He shoves out a breath and continues on his way. “Yes, of course. Have they arrived?”

   “Yeah…except, uh, I think you ordered the wrong ones.”

   He stops again. “...What?”

   “These aren’t right. I am, like, ninety percent sure these are not her favorites. Actually, I think she avoids these?”

   “Look at– Was there a packing slip? An order sheet of some kind?” Damian asks, eyebrows pinched.

   He hears shuffling, crinkling. “Uh, yeah, here is it.”

   As Jon rattles off the assortment, Damian’s heart starts sinking. He pinches the bridge of his nose like it might relieve the pressure building behind his eyes. “Yes. That’s…She hates those.”

   How. On this good green earth. Did he mess that one up?

   Sleep deprivation. It must have been. He ordered it the night Ivy defaced the Wayne Tower by using vines to form a heart and shape I + H through the middle. At least she’d apologized. At least Harley liked it.

   Shit. He’d better check Jon’s too. Milk chocolate, coconut, caramel, right? That’s what Jon’s was supposed to be. Maybe he should have you check it.

   “Is the name on it right?” he sighs.

   More rustling. “Oh. No. It’s addressed to a…Walt Morgan.”

   Thank. Fuck. He's not the third worst boyfriend in the building.

   “Okay. Okay. That’s easy to fix, then. I’ll call them and sort the whole thing out. With any luck, a new one will be delivered the day before.” He’s thinking out loud, already scheming out how to sneak a three foot tall heart-shaped box of chocolates into the apartment and past you. “This is fine.”

   Jon laughs into the phone. “What, like the meme? Are you sitting in a burning room right now?”

•••

   The moment Damian gets home, lecture notes fresh in his mind, Jon meets him at the door.

   "Problem," he blurts. He's holding something behind his back.

   Damian squeezes the strap of his bag. "With?" The League? The Titans? The city?  The world? His family? Jon's family? God forbid, you?

   "The flowers," he answers. His hands move, and suddenly Damian is staring down at the squished, crumpled remnants of a flower bouquet with all your favorites.

  He sighs in relief. "What happened?" He rubs his palm across his forehead and tries to resettle his nerves.

   "I rode my bike home. I hit that stupid bump in the parking garage and it was either the flowers or the groceries, so…” He squeezes a limp petal between his thumb and his pointer, eyebrows furrowed glumly.

   Damian plucks the best looking one of the whole cluster and looks it over. “It’s alright. I’ll call in the morning and order another. You should hide these, though.”

   Jon shrugs. “Yeah. I think the old lady across the hall would like some. I’ll pick out the ones that survived.”

   Damian’s lips curl up at the edges. It's just like Jon to find some act of kindness in a cluster of crushed flowers. “I think that’s a great idea.” He jams the flower back into the middle. His hand comes up to cup Jon’s cheek instead. He presses his lips to his temple. “Well done, saving the groceries. She’ll like the food better anyway.”

•••

   “Jon,” Damian hisses.

   Jon turns around very slowly, eyes wide. His clothes seem to have survived unscathed, but there are speckles of batter across his face. He’s still holding a spatula in one hand.

   He takes a deep breath. “I was gone for two minutes. What happened?”

   Jon smiles sheepishly. “See, I wanted to flip pancakes like you do. Like, without the spatula? You just, like, throw it with the pan?”

   “Right.”

   “Well, I tried it because it looks easy when you do it, but, I…I kind of miscalculated how hard I was supposed to jerk the pan. So it kind of…” he trails off, gesturing confusingly with his hands. Damian quirks an eyebrow, so he points toward the ceiling to clarify.

   Twelve feet above him, Damian finds the pale wet splatter of batter on the ceiling. And on the floor below it, the dry, cooked side of an unfinished pancake.

   “You launched a pancake so high it hit the ceiling?”

   “It stuck for a few seconds. I mean, see, if you think about it; it’s really a testament to your cooking skills. Right? The batter was just…that good.” He grins convincingly. Dirty little suck up. Those puppy dog eyes may work on you, but they rarely do on Damian.

   Rarely.

   Damian stares down at the ruined pancake still leaking uncooked batter, grossly lumpy with chocolate chips. It’ll be a pain to clean later, so he may as well get it done with. He might as well wipe down the counters, too…

   He looks to the rest of the kitchen while Jon starts unraveling some paper towels. “Jon.”

   The man in question glances at him as he crouches to start scooping up his failure. “Hmm?”

   “What have we done to the kitchen?”

   “What do you mean?” Jon mumbles, turning toward the counters, “I was kind of cleaning as I went…oh.”

   They may have had a little too much fun making breakfast. Chocolate chips spilled across the counter where Jon was measuring with his heart. Dishes nobody thought to do after the movie last night piled in the sink beneath all the bowls and measuring cups from this morning. Half of the pancake ingredients are still sitting on the counter because Jon got handsy when Damian finally made it to the stove top. Flour is dusted around the area where Jon had been mixing everything in the bowl. There’s also batter slopped over a corner of the counter from when he got handsy the second time.

   It’s fine. It’s looked worse. The time you tried to make sushi rolls. The time Jon tried to make pudding-filled cupcakes. The time Jason realized this apartment was a lot closer than the Cave and would mop up better than his safehouse once he was done bleeding all over the place. That time Titus switched foods too fast.

   "She can't see this," Jon whispers. He projects his hearing back out past the living room, listening for any sign you've woken up. "She cleaned Saturday. She will kill us."

   "Agreed. We take this to our graves."

   "Agreed."

   Damian takes a deep breath. Scans the room again. Pulls together a plan. "Can you finish the pancakes?"

   "I'll burn them. Don't look in the microwave. I'll start cleaning." As if to cement this, he ducks around Damian to get under the sink for the cleaning supplies.

   Damian glances warily toward the microwave. He decides his mental health is more important than seeing what's inside.

•••

   For the first time in a long time, you wake up to an unexpectedly cold bed.

   You stretch out, sleepily thinking you must be mistaken. Maybe you just aren't quite used to the California King upgrade. You roll onto your back and sacrifice your remaining body heat to search for a new source to leech from. You're surprised to find the end of the mattress on one side and the edge of the comforter on your other.

   Odd, considering everyone took Valentine's Day off from everything, and they'd begged you to sleep in the middle last night so they could both reach you. There weren't any agreed upon plans this morning, and none of you bother to crawl out of bed if you don't have to. Lazy mornings always find at least two of you in bed, staring at screens or book pages, waiting on the last to wake up. Some mornings, you don't even get up then.

   Which means there must be a good reason they're out of bed and not training to be professional bed warmers.

   You dart upright. You squint against any light struggling through the blinds. The room is just as it was when you went to bed last night; yours and Jon's clothes spotting the floor, Damian's laptop is closed on the nightstand by the door, Jon's phone is still charging next to yours on the other nightstand, the blinds are still half closed.

   More importantly, the locked drawer in the bottom of the dresser is still closed. Which means there wasn't any super-sneaking. 

   "Boys?" you call.

   "Stay there!" Jon's voice rings through the door from down the hall.

   "We're coming to you!" Damian adds.

   You rub a knuckle into your eye. "What're you doing?"

   "You'll see," Damian answers, closer now. Then he's whispering, "Jon, get the–"

   "I can't, I'm carrying two–"

   "Okay, fine, just put your hand here– no, there. And I'll–"

   The door creaks open, and there they stand, your heroes: both wide-eyed, Damian with a long white tray, and Jon with three mugs and a bottle of syrup balanced in two hands.

   Damian smiles widely. "Happy Valentine's Day, Beloved."

   Jon grins and practically skips into the room. "We made your favorite," he sings.

   You scoot closer to the headboard to make room. You laugh breathlessly. "What?"

   Jon sets two of the mugs alongside the phones, and pushes the other into your hands as he climbs into bed beside you. "We got you something really good, but there were some, uh…complications." He glances at your other sweetheart for confirmation.

   The man in question plants his knee on the bed before he leans over to pop the legs out to set the tray over your lap while you hold your mug out of the way. "It's delayed. You'll have it soon, but we thought we should make it up to you." Once the tray is sturdy, he climbs in on your other side.

   "Are you telling me I get breakfast in bed and a gift?" your smile turns suspicious. "Sounds an awful lot like I'm getting buttered up for something,"  You glance down at the spread that's been placed before you, "...just like these perfect fucking pancakes, good god!"

   Damian chuckles, leaning back into the pillows so he can stretch out a little. His arm reaches past you, resting against your back while his hand finds a spot on Jon's shoulder. "Perfect sounds dramatic, but thank you. I did have a lovely assistant."

  "Is that right?" you shift your attention to Jon.

   He smiles sheepishly. "I mean, I didn't much–" He stops short when he blinks and suddenly your nose is a few inches from his ear.

   "Shut up and take some credit, baby." You clip your bottom lip between your teeth as his cheeks bloom pink. You release it, only to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."

   You give him a breather so you can lean the other way and bestow the same thanks to Damian. "And you, deary."

   You melt a little at the way he smiles up at you. It's all warm and tender; a side of him only these four walls and two sets of eyes get to see. "You're very welcome, Love."

   Jon's head meets your shoulder as he reaches for an orange wedge from Damian's end of the tray. Well, the end closest to him. It's arranged more like a buffet than a set table.

   "You tired, honey?" you chuckle, setting your hand on the side of his head, smoothing your thumb over the beginning of his ear.

   "Mhmm. Worth it, though."

   "How early did you get up?" Your smile fades a little. "How long have you been unsupervised in the kitchen?"

   He stiffens against you. "Huh? I dunno what you mean. What are you talking about?" He jumps when Damian pinches his arm."

   You turn slowly toward the other one. "Damian. Is my kitchen a mess?"

   He stares up at you, suave as ever laying among these pillows, one arm tucked behind his head and the other laid out behind you. "Would I ever allow such a thing to happen? On a day of love, no less?"

   "That's not an answer and you know it."

   His eyes cut beyond you, to something Jon does, or maybe to encourage him to do something.

   Your eyes narrow on him. He's guilty, you know that much. He's bad at hiding it from you, or Jon, because he doesn't like hiding things from either of you. Which means the kitchen is probably a complete wreck…but fuck it; it's Valentine's Day, and the loves of your life have made an amazing breakfast in bed to share. You'll fix the kitchen tomorrow. Or the next day. Maybe the next.

   You pretend to think about a little longer than you really do. He watches your face all the same, even if he knows you're making a show. Finally, you take a sip of your coffee. "I suppose that you can be forgiven. For the sake of the holiday. And because you made me chocolate chip pancakes, but I'm considering that cheating, so…"

   Jon's head is back on your shoulder. "So?" You can see the puppy dog eyes in your peripheral. You can feel them heating up the side of your face—so much so that you wonder if he's utilizing a tiny fraction of his laser-heat-whatever vision. Not today, Satan.

   "So, let's eat this food while it's warm and pretend the kitchen doesn't exist."

#qfww #poly #three is the luckiest number #damian wayne x reader #jon kent x reader #damian wayne imagine #jon kent imagine #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jon kent x reader x damian wayne #damijon x reader #jondami x reader

[thewritingofspencerrose]

I know, it's (VERY, im so sorry) delayed, this has been sitting in my drafts since the day his trade was announced and i just got around to finishing it up. enjoy!

"Jamie," Is all I can think to respond to my brothers words. "I can't just move to Pennsylvania, you know that. I have three more years left of schooling."

You were supposed to have 3 more years on your contract, I want to add, but I know that's not what he needs right now. He was just traded away from his home with no warning, he doesn't need his little sister giving him a hard time.

"I know, trust me I know. I was so focused on getting my deal with the Ducks because of that. But some kid that was supposed to go to Philly had a change of plans and now I have to be on a plane there from Nashville at 5 in the morning."

"You don't even get to play against the Predators?" I ask, not realizing just how sudden this was all about to happen. "Do you need me to send you things? God I didn't realize this would all be so sudden."

"Kid, let's worry about what I need in a minute, I need to talk to you about you, the apartment, all of that." Oh shit. I can't afford this place. "I talked to Trevor, and he and I think you should move in with him."

"You... what?"

"I-"

"No, I heard you," I interrupt, not even letting him get two words in. "Why on earth is that your first thought? Let me have my sister move out of the apartment we've been living in and in with my best friend? Didn't Trevor literally move out because he wanted more space?"

"I know, and he knows that, but you're my little sister, I don't like the idea of you just finding some random roommate. And Trev promised that he'd look after you," Jamie explains, and I don't want to give him more grief than necessary today of all days, "I just need to know you're being looked after if I'm going to be on the east coast."

"Have you already talked to Trevor about this?"

"He offered."

Oh fuck me.

"Oh, woah," Are the first words out of Trevor's mouth when he walks in the door, two weeks and change after Jamie's move. After my moving in.

"I promise I tried not to touch anything, I just-"

"No, I told you that you should make yourself at home," He reminds, dropping his gear by the door. "It's just, I don't know, feels more homey in here than when I left."

"It's probably because you got so used to living with me and JD that seeing my things around reminds you," I offer, trying to ignore the way he's looking at me like the entire reason this place feels like home is me. "Speaking of my brother, when you offered this little deal to him did you happen to mention that you'd been sleeping with said little sister for months before you moved out?"

I probably should have seen what he was doing when he started to distance himself from me and should have realized I had gotten too attached when it hurt for him to do so.

And I had been doing fine with getting over him until JD had this fantastic idea.

Now he's here, his look shifting from admiration to shock.

"Why- why would I tell Jimmy that?"

"You're basically boyfriends, I would have thought you'd tell him about your torrid affair," I can't help the joke slipping, only earning myself an eye roll as he throws himself on the couch, landing by my feet and making the book on my lap nearly fall to the floor.

"You and everyone else need to stop thinking that we're boyfriends, you know better than any of us that I am not into guys," He returns, pointing at me like he's trying to prove his point.

Now I'm the one rolling my eyes. "Trev, the whole world knows you're into women, have you not seen the photos of you and that D'Amelio sister around? You're hot gossip on the internet."

I hate it.

"Oh God," He groans, head falling in his hands, and it's not the joking one I'm expecting, but genuine discomfort.

"Trev? You okay?" I'm already moving before I've finished asking, my book set aside as I move to his side, hand coming to caress the back of his neck, where his shaggy hair meets his hoodie.

I can't help but take a moment to hesitate, knowing that if he is with her like the tabloids say, I'm far too close to a gray area than I should be.

But it's Trevor. He helped JD move me into their apartment, after agreeing to me living with them in the first place.

He's always been there for me as long as JD and he have known each other, and I have always done my best to be there for him.

"It's the God damn media," is his whispered answer, shoulders slumping. "I can't be seen with a girl without being assumed to be with her, you know?"

"I can't say that I do," It's honest. Also very unhelpful. "You're sitting with the boring Drysdale, I have as much experience with the media as being photographed with you and JD."

His eyes rise up, looking at me for only a second before he's looking back down at his hands, ringing them. "You're not boring, Kate."

"You know what I mean-"

"No," He interrupts, eyes jumping up again, this time remaining on me. "You're not boring, you're normal in the best way. Why do you think I ended things?"

What?

"You deserve normal."

My hand stills on his neck, slowly sliding across his shoulder until it's back in my lap. "Trevor, what are you talking about? If this is because things aren't working with her and I'm suddenly around-"

"I was never with her!" He's yelling, moving to stand in the time it takes me to process his words and turning back on me, eyes wild. "We were in that photo because a mutual friend had a birthday and everyone ran with it!"

"Trev, you don't have to explain your dating life to me," I sound almost desperate, desperate in my desire to not hear about the women he's seen since our last night. My voice is the one who gets quiet now, "I'd really rather you not."

"You're not listening to me," Trev is nearly grunting, pausing to sit on the coffee table in front of my legs. "I haven't been seeing anyone else, it's why the photos piss me off. They have you thinking I'm out sleeping around," His hands rest on my knees, thumbs gently running over them. "You're not someone a person can just move on from, Kate."

"Trevor, you can't do this to me," There's that desperate tone again. "You broke off our arrangement. I was ready to become more and you were the one who said we'd have to just be friends, that I had to go back to being your best friend's little sister."

His thumbs dig in momentarily, the only thought coming to mind being when he last did that, hands slowly guiding my legs apart and -

No!

"Do you not know how much I've regretted every word of what I said?" He looks so genuine. He's Trev, of course he's being genuine.

"What made you change your mind?"

"The idea that you'd be moving to Philadelphia," There's no hesitation.

And I can't help but laugh. "Trevor Zegras, I have one year left of my undergrad and two of my masters. You can't have thought I'd really be uprooting my life," a smile comes back to his face for the first time since he walked in to see me on the couch.

"Are you laughing at me?" Is his falsely offended cry, making me laugh even harder. "How dare you!" His hands find my sides immediately, fingers moving in sync to tickle where he knows I'll feel it most.

His body has moved onto mine, my breathe leaving my lungs faster than they can refill as I wiggle.

"Trev! Trev! Get off of me, you goon!" He just smiles, propping himself up on his arms enough to pop back into a sitting position.

It's so soft, the look in his eyes.

"Give me another chance, please?" That's why he looks so soft.

He's scared.

But I am too. This has gotten more complicated than before.

"Trevor... this has gotten so much more complicated-"

"How?"

"What?" How could he possibly be asking how this could be more complicated.

He's smirking now. "It's actually less complicated. We're still roommates and I still want to be with you, only difference is your brother isn't on the other side of the door, keeping us quiet."

He's not wrong.

Now it's my turn to smile. "If we try this again, we're a couple. No casual sex."

"Deal," His smile is brighter than the lights at the stadium. "My terms were the same."

"And-"

"And? You want a kiss?" He supplies, and while it's not at all what I was going to say, I'm going to let him have this one.

So I nod.

He leans in.

And when our lips touch, it doesn't matter that he's my brother's best friend, or that I'm his best friend's little sister.

We're home.

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #trevor zegras x oc #jamie drysdale #trevor zegras x drysdale sister #trevor zegras

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Jack Harlow : “You can’t fall in love with me. It won’t benefit either of us.”

"Y/N, will you please slow down?" Jack was tripping over his feet trying to catch up with you, just out of reach, as you tried to walk back to your car. "Y/N, just let me explain." He almost collided with you as you came to a halt on the sidewalk, quickly turning on your heels to face him.

At first, you wanted to conceal your tears from him, that's why you left the party as soon as you saw him all over some other girl, but now, you just wanted him to see how much he hurt you.

"Listen, what you saw in there, it was nothing, okay?" Jack winced. You were already crying, tacking on another lie was only going to make this harder.

"Do you love me?"

Up until this point, you thought you knew the answer. It was supposed to be evident in the way he made you feel, and Jack made you feel more loved than anyone else you had ever been with, but you needed to hear the words. You needed him to commit to you in front of the world, or you would spend the rest of your life wondering.

Jack shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I don't know."

His answer felt like a shot to the chest. "Wow, okay. So that's a no." You wiped a stray tear from your cheek. Honesty was supposed to bring you a sense of peace, but you just wished that he had lied to you one more time. "Baby, listen, I just don't want to jump into anything until I'm sure-"

You cut him off, tired of his excuses. "Why do you keep doing this, Jack? We have a good thing here. I keep choosing you, and you keep making a fool out of me." Jack swallowed, feeling a pain in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing seemed good enough.

"I'm not asking you to move in with me. I'm not asking you to propose, just to love me. Why is that so hard for you?" Here you were again, begging for something that he either wanted to give you, or he didn't. How many times were you going to let him do this to you?

You felt in your gut it was going to be at least once more. "I love you, Jack."

"Stop. Just stop it. You can’t fall in love with me. It won’t benefit either of us." Jack raked a hand through his curls, letting out a sharp breath.

"Why? All the times we've been together, all you've talked about is how much you want to be loved, how lonely you are, and I'm right here. I'm offering you everything you've ever wanted, and you just can't commit to me."

You gasped, realizing you were starting to feel lightheaded. "Why can't you choose me?"

You watched as the life drained from Jack's eyes momentarily. Everyone always thought he was single because that's just where life took him, but it was by design. You couldn't break something you never got a chance to hold in the first place.

Frustration was quickly turning to anger. Not directed at you, but at himself. "Because. Because, it always ends the same way. You'll get tired of everything. The life, the distance, my career. One day its all gonna be too much, and you'll want out. I just don't want you to resent me, one day. I don't want to hurt you."

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. For the first time you were feeling how cold you were, your breath clouding the air in front of you.

"You think your this good guy, Jack. That you're doing me a favor and protecting me from heartache, but you have hurt me more already than you ever thought you could." There was your moment of peace, of clarity, the thing you'd been chasing for months. You thought it was going to come with a declaration of love, but you would have to settle for what you got.

"Y/N, I really am sorry."

"Yeah, save it." You waved him off, turning to walk away. This time Jack didn't try to chase you.

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

You know what is really bothering me about these last couple of days in Thai BL land?

Yes there were a lot of tears, but none of them were mine. (the exception being cherry magic. that sequence of Karan taking care of Achi and then being heartbroken. My heart wasn't ready)

These are my personal and maybe unpopular opinions so just let me explain. Spoilers galore as usual. We had some heavy episodes this week. Starting with 7 days before valentine and ending with the sign.

7 Days Before Valentine Look, was it heartbreaking? Sure. Did I feel sorry for Sunshine? Nope. Not even a little. Because for 8 episodes we've seen a selfish, self centered human being make a mess of the world without an ounce of remorse. Just picking people off one by one for his own selfish desires. So even if this episode was actually good, because he finally confronted his selfishness, I was watching wearing a big neon sign saying - you had it coming... the world's smallest violin etc... Also we know he's not actually gone so. (this is the recurring theme of the week btw)

Pit Babe I mean Pavel did a great job and this show is doing a great job at showing men being vulnerable and crying. But let's be real. Charlie is not really dead. We know that. Omegaverse or not, this is Thai bl and we don't play that here.

So the idea to leave the audience in the dark is an attempt at a cliffhanger but ultimately void of any real suspense. If the audience were to be let in on the plan, I'm sure there is one, then we could've felt Babe's suffering in a more profound way. Because, in my opinion, that would be more powerful. We could've seen both sides of this and felt bad for both of them. What's the point of leaving us in the dark? Am I suppose to gasp next week when Charlie appears? When what will actually happen will be that as soon as we know Charlie is alive we will get angry at him for making the person he loves suffer and next at Babe because they will get right back to the papa and mamma talk before the I'm sorry leaves Charlie's lips.

Twins I mean, there wasn't really a lot of suffering left to be had here. I was the only one suffering due to the fact that this show really waited until the last episode to make Sprite come clean. And to top it of, making First feel even more like a door mat by forgiving Sprite so fast. What a waste.

Last Twilight I've already said my peace about this show a couple of times. I did feel Mhok's pain. Him alone crying outside the house was heartbreaking. But the problem is how it happened. Idiotic. The catharsis didn't have the time to actually be cathartic for Mhok. The noble break up was not noble. So in the end I cannot emotionally connect to any of this. They threw Mhok's nightmare in there in case we'd forgotten about his baggage, or maybe because they had, so that sudden confession of Mhok had diminished impact as it was followed by the break up which of course is the real heartbreak I guess.

The Sign What is up with the editing of this show?

I already said somewhere last week that I thought the editing of the rescue was terrible because it was not done as to invoke any emotional impact. The same happens this week.

What the hell was that cut after Phaya woke up? We had like 15 seconds of them looking at each other and Phaya reaching out before they cut to Dr ican'tkeepupwiththenamesatthispoint and then to the police story line that let's be honest, it's taking space from everything else that's more interesting and it's not giving us anything of value in return. Stop putting everything but kitchen sink into shows if you can't manage it properly. If you don't have space for these stories to breathe and give me something I'm missing in the main story lines. Look I love that Phaya got up from his hospital bed and immediately went for it, but I mean what am I suppose to feel about it? The show is not letting us settle into any one emotional state long enough to feel anything at all.

And, I'm really asking. Is anyone at all interested in the police investigation? You can have a police investigation as backdrop to a story. But if you're also gonna take it upon yourself to have this massive mythological, past and present lives star crossed lovers story, then something's gotta give. Maybe just make it a case that doesn't also span generations and brings secrets and lies along for the ride.

I'm so mad at Thai bl at the moment. Not you Cherry Magic, you are my precious ray of sunshine in the middle of all this rain. Please be good till the end.

[Thank you @twig-tea for being my proofreader. You're the best. 💜]

#rose rambles #the sign the series #last twilight #7 days before valentine #twins the series #pit babe

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for complaining about a teacher?

context before i start: the class i'm in takes up 3 hours of the day, and was the only reason i came to this school in the first place. it's an art school and is supposed to be somewhat serious—like, you have to apply to get in. but the 2 years i've been here we've had like 4 teachers (+ there have been even more before that) and none of them have been qualified for the job whatsoever

our newest teacher just got out of college and doesn't know what she's doing. she doesn't assign work that's actually creatively challenging, 1 hour of class time is usually dedicated to a really bad prompt and the rest of the time is independent work, it's barely an actual art class. she also never talks to the class and doesn't really have a clue what's going on ever. supposedly she has a degree but she just seems so. confused. the reason i'm still at this school is because i know people here who live upwards of 40 minutes away who i'm very close with + along with that i'm also autistic so any kind of drastic change would be hell. unfortunately leaving, though it would be the best option for me, is just not an option at all

anyway, we're already a quarter of the way through the year and people are still saying to cut her some slack because she's... new. which is kind of exactly what the issue is? i went through something similar to this last year because one of our previous teachers gave me really bad vibes and just didn't really work, so i complained about her to my classmates, and then i went to the administration about some issues i was having and she ended up quitting a few weeks after. people thought i got her fired on purpose. i was a little bit overly angry looking back so idk i can't blame them

anyway, i recently went to the admin about this new teacher (unlike last time, i tried to "give her grace" and hope for improvement, even though... idk... i just don't see it happening) but haven't really held back in complaining about her to my classmates too. most of the time people will say i'm being overly negative, or they don't want her to get fired, and honestly it's just fucking wild to me. they've also made comments about how she's not a good teacher! like everyone agrees that she's just not ready for this position and they're really sick of not being able to learn things! when i do complain though it's like i'm messing up some kind of social contract there is to just not do anything about the problem we're having and it's really confusing and frustrating

but at the same time i do wonder if this is me being overly critical and nitpicky of a situation that i shouldn't be. to me, because of aforementioned autism, i have a really strong sense of justice. this kind of stuff seriously bothers me and it upsets me that nobody else is as affected by the unfairness as i am?? idk. i just want the class to actually be worthwhile because the academics are really good

so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[bi-bard]

I've Had No Love Like Your Love - Gary "Eggsy" Unwin Imagine [Kingsman]

Title: I've Had No Love Like Your Love

Pairing: Gary "Eggsy" Unwin X Reader

Based On: Nobody

Word Count: 1,083 words

Warning(s): Insecurities

Summary: Eggsy's new job gives him opportunities and experiences that he could have never imagined. (Y/n) is worried that these experiences are going to pull him away from them. Eggsy tries his best to show that nothing he's done will ever be more important than them.

Author's Note: Pretty sure this happened because of the internet throwing edits about the second Kingsman film at me. Which I had a lot of fun watching, by the way.

WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I met Eggsy long before his life with the Kingsman started.

He had been this bubbly, sarcastic, and all-around-loving guy. It didn't take long for him to win me over. He was charming and sweet. I fell far faster than I cared to admit.

I was happier with him than I had been with anyone else. It was silly, almost delusional, but I was getting to the point where I felt like we were going to last forever.

And then, Eggsy found a new job.

He hid it from me at first, but after seeing how suspicious that looked, he dropped the act.

I could still remember vividly sitting across from him at my dining room table as he rambled on and on about what he was doing. The training and the gadgets and the assholes he had met through it all. He told me about how his being gone for days was because he was going on missions for a secret organization that I wasn't meant to know about.

I didn't believe him at first.

That's when he showed me some of the gadgets he had. He showed me some of the suits that they had given him. I got to know the Kingsman label.

I asked him if he was going to get in trouble for telling me all of this.

He kissed me and told me that he didn't care if he did. He'd rather that than lose me. Which did make me feel very special.

I accepted every part of it.

The long trips away, the small injuries that he came home with, the lack of a steady schedule. And the dog. The dog was a nice bonus to the job.

I never wanted to question his work. And I didn't.

I never had a lot of problems with the work. I got worried when he showed up hurt, but that was kind of it.

After a while though, the stories started to get to me. I wasn't upset hearing them or jealous or anything like that, but the more and more I heard about those stories, the more I found this sickening feeling in my stomach. Like I was... disappointing him... somehow.

I heard all these stories about these amazing places and the cool stuff that he did, and I just felt... boring. How was I supposed to compare to stuff like that?

I always ignored it. Well, I tried.

In all honesty, I never thought that Eggsy noticed it.

We all think that we're better at hiding things than we actually are.

I was in the middle of putting my clothes away, listening to him go on and on about the last mission he was on. I nodded along, chuckling where it felt appropriate.

"You alright?"

I furrowed my eyebrows as I turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

"You just seem... out of it."

"What," I forced a scoff. "Eggsy, I'm fine."

"(Y/n), we've been together for a while, I can tell when you're not."

I took a deep breath as I leaned against the dresser. "I... Do I bore you?"

"Sorry?"

"Do I bore you?" I repeated. "Am I boring?"

"No, why would you ask that?"

"You just... You come home from these trips and you have all these stories about what you did and what you saw and who you met and it just... I feel boring compared to that part of your life."

He didn't respond for a moment.

"And I know that it sounds dumb and childish but I... I can't help it, Eggsy. I... I'll get over it. I don't want you to think that I don't care about your work because I do and I admire it. I don't... I don't want to be controlling or anything like that and I'm sorry-"

"Stop," he spoke up, cutting off my rambling. I did, biting at the inside of my cheek.

He walked over to stand opposite me, his back facing the bed. He pulled the sleeve of his jacket up. "See this?"

He pointed at a bracelet on his wrist. It had been a gift I had gotten him. It was small, simple. A braided bracelet with a small charm hanging off of it. It wasn't a super expensive gift, but I didn't have a lot to spend at the time. I was surprised that it had landed as long as it had.

I nodded as I looked at it.

"I wear this during every mission that I go on," he explained as he walked forward. "Do you know why?"

I didn't answer.

"Because all I care about on those missions is getting back to you," he continued. "Through every badass thing I get to do, through all of the suits and gadgets and crap, all I want is to come home to you. Because I love you. A lot. More than I've loved anyone before."

I felt a grin form on my lips. "I love you too."

He reached forward and cupped the sides of my face, smiling back at me. He leaned his forehead against mine for a few moments before kissing me gently. I kissed him back, reaching my hands out to touch his sides. It was loving, gentle, perfect.

During our small moment together, I felt something tickling my leg. I pulled away, looking down to see what it was. Eggsy's forehead pressed against the side of my head as I did. His eyes were still shut.

"What is it," he asked.

I turned to look at him again. "Your dog is licking my leg."

"What?" his eyes opened as he leaned back and looked down. "For fuck's sake-"

"It's alright," I chuckled.

"Ruined our moment."

"Nooo," I shook my head before leaning down to pick up the pug. "Were you getting a little jealous?"

The pug licked my hand as I went to pet him. I laughed quietly.

"Just wants a little attention," I said, looking at Eggsy again.

"So do I," he replied.

"The pug's cuter."

He scoffed at me. "Excuse me?"

I walked into the main room, sitting with the dog in my lap. Eggsy followed me out. He sat next to me on the couch, pulling me into his side. He kissed my head.

"I love you," he muttered against my hair.

"I love you too," I replied.

That was the moment that I started to truly believe that this life was far more perfect than whatever life with the Kingsman offered.

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

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#kingsman x reader #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman imagine #eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin fanfiction #taron egerton x reader #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton imagine #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

[williamaltman]

Ok so, I've been wanting to talk about the whole episode 5 recollection thing ever since we saw it on the previous trailers, and since there were more shots of it in the new one too I'm gonna take the opportunity...

So, in all the little shots we've seen, we have Louis going at Lestat. So I'm guessing the idea is that they're gonna make the """fight""" actually more of a fight and not just Louis getting beaten.

Personally, I am pleased with this, because I think it's basically the best way to deal with this whole mess. I never had an issue with Lestat and Louis "fighting". What I have issue with is how extremely violent it was, how Lestat actually seriously hurt Louis. If it had been just a punch or two (though that would already be domestic abuse) I wouldn't have been fazed, but his whole body was bruised and bleeding. There was a trail of blood when he got dragged across the street. He took months to heal. In their little "fights" (actually not sure if it's more than one) in the book, Louis was completely fine. Lestat never truly hurt him physically.

So, to sort of get into a writers mindset I guess, how could you "fix it"? Well, I don't think they could say it's a fake memory. I'm sorry but the idea that it was implanted by Armand for example is just ridiculous to me. I don't think it even makes much sense in the first place, but besides that, I hate the idea of just blaming Armand to make Lestat seem better. This black and white idea of one of them being the "bad boyfriend" and the other the "good one" that comes from both sides is NOT true to the characters imo, and I also think it's a shitty narrative to go with, storytelling wise.

Besides that, I'm not sure how else you could fully retcon it and say it was fake. I saw people theorizing that only the drop was fake, but again that seems to rely on the Armand fake memory theory, and I honestly don't think they'll retcon it since it was kinda the whole point thematically from what the writers said (that it's a parallel to Paul and that they were "very pleased with themselves" for it). And clearly the initial "fight" is not fake from the new shots we got. Obviously "Louis made it up" is not an option. I remember people talking about how it was from Claudia's POV, which I honestly don't remember whether that part was supposed to be from her diary or not, but even if that's the case the most that could do is establish that the details of the fall are messy because she wasn't there to see it, and that maybe Lestat wasn't so "triumphant" after it.

Lestat attacked Louis, just because he THOUGHT Louis wanted to leave with Claudia. He started it, which does matter imo (I don't think they can change that to it being Louis) and it was completely unequal. I know this fandom is lowkey plagued with gender role discourse, but Lestat, as a stronger vampire, has a huge advantage against Louis, akin to a man hitting his wife, but probably even bigger due to supernatural strength.

And that is to say, technically the main problems will probably still be there. Which is how it should be imo, cause after doing that they have to commit to it, at least to some extent. The idea should not be to fully exonerate Lestat, but to basically soften the blow (literally and figuratively) by adding some more nuance to it. The writers said themselves that they want Louis to be belieavable as a victim.

So, I'm guessing that what we're gonna see is Louis defending himself, getting some hits against Lestat, and that Lestat was hurt too, and maybe something new about the fall. Which honestly is gonna give me some peace of mind. I get why people don't like the idea of discrediting Louis' account of the event, and of how the fandom can turn on him if he's not some perfect victim... But there was (is) just something in me that can't fully ship Loustat as much as I did before with that having happened.

Like, for a while I have basically just chosen to ignore it as much as possible. I don't rewatch the episode, I skip it during reactions, I skip the beginning of episode 6 where we see how Louis is after. I have acknowledged it many times but more as like a meta thing that happened. I probably wouldn't say it's triggering, but it just crossed a line to me and I'm gonna welcome (almost) anything they do to make it less bad than it seemed, not because I want for Louis to come off as a liar or anything but just like... For my own relief, to kinda have a bit of weight off my shoulders when watching the show and shipping them? Obviously I don't know anything for sure and I might be wrong about some things I'm guessing, but not having it be so one-sided at least already helps a bit. (Please don't come here to say I'm a weak bitch who can't handle dark gothic romance or some bullshit like that. I've already talked about that back when the scene aired and if you think it's a simple as that you're probably just dumb and insensitive)

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #amc iwtv #loustat #louis x lestat #lestat x louis #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #discourse #iwtv discourse

[augustrambles]

Could you do a platonic main four and male reader? Probably trying to convince you to join a scheme of theres when you’re hesitant to leave the house, even though you want to participate

a/n: ty 4 requesting!! woohoo male reader❗

male!reader x main four

warnings: underage drinking and use of drugs, smoking, he/him prns

currently, [name] was on videocall with his friends.

"i dont know about this, y'all know how bebe's parties are, you guys are probably going to end up wasted."

"c'mon [name], dont be a pussy like cartman is!"

"fuck you stupid jew!"

"mfm mphrhm hmprh mphr"

"well yeah, but what if i get caught?"

"[name], you are not going to get caught, fucks sake! we've done this more than once so stop being such a pussy, man up, and go with us, UNLESS you wanna be a loser."

"fuck you cartman, but fine ill go then"

"woohoo!"

"we can have a, quote on quote, sleepover at my place so your parents think you're at my house."

"yeah, that'll work"

"kay, talk to yall later."

the videocall ended and [name] placed his phone on the night desk. he was slightly worried about getting caught, but he decided to ignore the feeling.

"hey mom, i'm going to stay over at stan's house tonight, ok?" he said to his mother as she nodded. "alright hun! make sure to come back at nine tomorrow!" she yelled back as he let out a "mhm"

he left the house and began walking, scrolling on his phone. him and stan were sort of close, not neighbours, but on the same street, so it wasn't a long walk.

knock, the sound of one was heard. he waited for a few seconds until he was greeted by stanley. "hey man!" stan said, fistbumping [name]. "kyle's already here, kenny and cartman are on their way." he informed

"alright, that's fine." [name] said, he walked to kyle as they started a conversation, stan joining in aswell. it was around 8pm. "question, when's the party starting?" [name] asked

"i think at 9, cartman and kenny better hurry their asses." kyle replied, resulting laughs from the other two boys due to his remark. at that moment, a knock was heard. "i'll get it." stan reassured

he walked up and it was cartman and kenny, they came to the house together. "speak of the devil" kyle said as he and [name] walked up the door. the 5 boys now left stan's house walking to where the party was being held at, bebe's house

they made conversation, about diverse topics such as school drama, celebrities, and the small fight between cartman and kyle here and there. the usual, basically.

"hey, we're here" kenny said, pointing to the house who you could literally hear music blasting. it was quite obvious there was a party there. the boys went up the door, kyle knocking. it was opened by a half drunk bebe.

"hheeeyy.. weelccome! ccome inn." she said, obviously dozing off of whatever type of alcohol she was drinking. cartman and kyle went first, then kenny, then [name] and stan.

the party was absolutely wild, there was strong smells of alcohol, smoke and drugs. [name] went up to clyde and craig, seperating from the group. craig seemed to be drunk, but clyde was wasted. "dude!! you're here, hey!" clyde said, before being dragged away by some girls playing truth or dare.

[name] looked at craig. "i didnt know you drink" he said to him, craig shrugged. "i dont, im just drinking today for fun." he replied, taking a sip from his beer. "wheres tweek? didnt he come?" [name] asked.

"he did, but he got too shaky because of all the noise and left. i wanted to acompany him home, but then he said something along the lines 'no, i want you to have fun' so here i am."

"i dont think you were supposed to take that literally, but alright"

[name] then walked away from craig, going to his previous group of friends. stan and kenny were both drinking, not drunk, since they barely had a few sips, but i dont think it'll stay like that until the end of the night. cartman was eating chips, which nobody else was eating. kyle was just there, not drinking or eating, just there, probably finding something to do.

"hey dude, you want a sip?" stan offered, [name] seemed to be hesitant at first but nodded. stan gave him a can of beer, it tasted.. good? surprisingly.

the night passed and not much changed.

except that [name] was fucking drunk as hell.

"[name], a-are you sure you dont want water?" butters asked, clearly being concerned for the man's health being. "naaahh, im okayy, thfank you" he said, body almost falling over. he was walking towards kyle and stan, wanting to join the karaoke, but then he bumped into a familiar girl,

wendy testaburger.

they bumped into eachother, "ew. you fucking smell like a skunk" she said as the room went quiet for the first time that night. "well fuck you, you smell like a wet dog at gym every day but you dont see me saying shit. keep it to yourself" [name] responded, clearly offended.

"pfft- i know YOU arent talking. you smell like you pissed yourself since first grade" she remarked, getting a few ooh's by the crowd. "that may be the case, but at least people like me. wasnt your ex so tired of you he used chat gpt to talk to you? lmaoo"

stan looked to the wall, trying to stuff in his laugh as kyle was giggling for everyone to hear, with the others. "BAHAHAHHAHA" was cartman's loud ass laugh, of course, there was also laughs across the room.

"oh fuck you" she said, heading towards him. she had a grin on her face. "cmon wendy, you know im joking" he said, laughing. "yea yea, go ahead drink some more you whore" she rolled her eyes in a sarcastic way as [name] followed her.

they always had very offensive fights like the one that just happened right now, but they always giggled or laughed it off. seems like a toxic relationship, but hey, this is south park, what ISNT toxic..

stan walked to [name] who had just left wendy with bebe, "dude you're gonna get in trouble if you continue fighting like that with wendy" he said, the two boys walking over to their group of friends. "hey, calm down, me and wendy are super close, doubt she would beat me up like she did to someone in here.. cough cough cartman cough." [name] said, receiving a giggle from kenny, stan and kyle and a deathstare by cartman. "shut up (insert insult)"

"alright man, just warnin you." stan said, taking another sip of the drink in his hand. [name] went to serve himself another cup of his drink, leaving the others alone.

"hey kyle, what hour is it?" kenny looked at kyle, who was on his phone. kyle was mostly on his phone at that party, mostly there because of his friends. "its 11:43" he said, replying to kenny. kenny simply nodded, "its early" he said.

stan called kenny, "hey dude, isnt that one of the girls you slept with??" he pointed to a white girl with pink highlights. "oh shit, it is, imma be right back yall" he said, going to the girl without looking back. "hes defintely not gonna be right back.." cartman rolled his eyes, continuing to eat.

"where the hell did [name] go" kyle asked and stan responding with "he went to get a drink, pretty sure" he looked into the kitchen, not seeing anyone there. "yeah, but he isnt at the bar or the kitchen" kyle noted

"maybe if we're lucky he got kidnapped" "oh shut up fatass" kyle punched cartman on the arm. "hey! dont tell me to shut up you stupid jew" he 'hmph'-ed at the jew

"ehh, hes probably coming back soon anyway" stan said, deciding not to worry about it. "yo kyle, you wanna go karaoke again? theyre making a competition now" stan asked kyle and he nodded, putting his phone in his pocket. "hope you lose" cartman said.

. . .

"its 3:40, we should probably get going now" kyle said, as the party was already more empty than before and less chaotic, plus [name] had arrived, and they were all now waiting for kenny. "yeah, but i am NOT carrying nobody, ok?" cartman said, giving an side eye to a drunken passed out stan next to him.

"not like your fatass could anyway" kyle rolled his eyes. "oh shut the fuck up" cartman said. at that moment, kenny had arrived, zipping back his parka, and covering his head. "dude, i love girls"

kenny said, an insipirational moment. "wow, i wouldve never guessed." [name] said, rolling his eyes. "but we should for real get going now, i'll carry stan." he said. "no, its fine, ill carry him" kyle said, already picking the passed out boy already. [name] shrugged with a 'if-you-say-so' look on his face

they all started to walk back to stan's house, kenny mentioning how good that sex was, [name] talking about how they met someone there who gave them a bit of smoke, cartman complimenting the food and karaoke.

"dude, you cant say the n word in karaoke.." [name] said, looking at cartman seriously. "oh cmon, it was a song, i didnt mean it in that way."

"cartman, you were singing call me maybe."

. . . ( that was a reference btw )

stan was lying in his bed, still passed out, as the other boys were currently lying in their sleeping bed. "goodnight yall" [name] said as the others whispered goodnight aswell.

#south park #south park x y/n #male reader #south park x reader #sp eric #sp craig #sp kyle #sp stan #sp kenny #kenny mccormick #eric south park #south park eric cartman #kenny sp #kenny south park #south park kenny #south park kyle #south park stan #stan marsh #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #sp clyde #clyde donovan #bebe south park #sp wendy #sp bebe #augustrambles rambles 😈

[gaslysainz]

Lost (PG10) pt.1

Summary: The world is utterly unfair. He was her most prized possession, her life, her first ever commitment of love. But to him, she was just a mere person lost in his big world.

warnings: ; unrequited feelings; Pierre is a douche , arrange marriage, angst, heartbreak.

Author's Note~ Heya guys! So I had put out a post about getting motivation to write something up, so thank you to all for commenting and encouraging me! Love You All 😘

Here's my first ever story for you guys. As soon as I finish this one, I'll start taking requests maybe! Till then please show your love and support for "LOST".

Journal Entry -1

LOVE....It's something that i have always yearned for.

Even if it's fake. A little bit of admiration, a simple compliment can make my day. 

It's been like this ever since my brother, Isaac Conti left the world. I started living with my step mother Annie Conti and my step sister Julia Conti. Yes, Isaac was my step sibling too but he never made me feel like i'm not his own sister.

My brother was the only one who actually loved me and admired me to the fullest in this family. My mother was an Indian and was forced to marry my father after she saved him from an accident when he was travelling in India. I was a part of a mistake. Ever since my maa died everyone except my brother treated me like shit. Even my father. 

But then i met him. My love of my life, the most important person in my life. My husband Pierre Gasly, the playboy of the F1 track!

Once again life played a merciless game with me. The man that i'm committed to, married to , bound by vows is in love with someone else. To be more clear he's in love with my sister Julia Conti.

How pathetic am i to have a life like this huh! We've been married for about 7 months now because that was my brother's last wish before leaving us. Pierre was his friend and he thought that getting me hitched would've been the best thing to do, but to think of it , it was his biggest mistake. He knew i've always had feelings for a certain blue eyed boy, thus, his decision, but what he didn't know was that Pierre has always been in love with my sister and married me only to get close to her. Pierre cleared everything out for me once we came back from the reception right after our wedding.

Now it's been a few days, two months to be exact that they've been dating , oh! and also sleeping around. What's sad is that i've caught them a few times during action in his bedroom. The only thing that i could do is simply go up to the terrace, look up to the sky and cry my eyes out calling out my Maa and my Brother. I don't blame Isaac for anything.  It's all my fate. 

I'm a pathetic excuse of a human as my husband likes to call me, who does not deserve anything in this world except for tears and sadness.

If you're wondering if Pierre had always been like this? Then let me tell you No! 

It all started after 1 month of our marriage when  he started talking to my sister more and giving her more attention. The lies that had been fed to him by my Step Mother and Step Sister about me is what he believed at the end of the day.

Life has always been a mockery for me. I am not allowed to speak to anyone, it's not like i have any friends to talk to. The only thing i am useful for is to tag along with Pierre to a few of his races or a few other important events as his trophy wife just cause it's an obligation.

No one really knows what happens in our life everyday, not even his grid mates. I'm sure it wouldn't have made any difference seeing they are his best friends. I'm not even allowed to talk to them even if i've seen them around at parties and races. I think my attitude has probably led them to think that i'm a snobby little bitch just like my Step sister. Oh yes! I do use bad words sometimes cause why not? I'm supposed to be able to do at least certain things in life right?

It's not like Pierre is going to read what i'm writing here? 

I've given up everything, every little dreams of mine, SO if you ask me if i think that Pierre is ever gonna love me back , then my answer is No!I would never even dream about thinking that he's gonna love me back.

But there's one person who always looks out for me, he's my only friend I suppose, and that's a certain ferrari driver with a charming smile that always lifts up my mood.

Anyways,I'll just sit aside and keep loving Pierre forever, even after he leaves me for my step sister after a year of our marriage. Just 5 more months to go. 5 more months to be with him. 5 more months to stay by his side as trophy wife when he goes out for parties and races. 

His world is a big one. Where he has got his grid mates, his family, his fans, his work people , my step sister even my step mom...... Everyone except for good ol' me....

I, Mrs. Y/n Gasly is just a LOST case in his big world...

Let's see where the upcoming 5 months take us....

PS - Please lemme know what do you think about LOST and also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list ❤️

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #formula1 #angst #unrequited love #marriage #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #charles x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #mick schumacher #esteban ocon #oscar piastri #lewis hamilton #alex albon #george russell #lance stroll #fernando alonso #logan sargeant #yuki tsunoda #nico hulkenberg #zhou guanyu #valtteri bottas #kevin magnussen

[thephloxbayou]

I've watched the videos. I can handle watching such horrible things a lot better than other friends who do care very much about the situation (saying generally, ie Floyd and others I did the same) and i can be the buffer to confirm information. It helps me fight back against other white people who spout Fox bullshit when I can be very specific and have seen the footage. I also feel it is solidarity rather than making a spectacle, I am aware this is what many people LIVE with and it is often kept from my eyes.

A short rundown of points in the video for people who can't watch:

Dashcam footage was mentioned before as being part of what would be released, but I have not seen it released. However they are now saying with "available footage" that they "cannot substantiate " the reckless driving claim.

We do however see the officers pull up to him via body cam, and immediately start shouting threats to his life and pull him out of the car. For a supposed traffic stop. He is at a red light with a turn signal. He is calm. Frightened, but being as calm as he possibly can to deescalate them.

They constantly through the video give commands he cannot follow due to their restraint or positioning, i.e. one officer demanding his hands while another is holding his other arm away, telling him to lay on his stomach when they have both arms under their control, a tazer pressed to his leg as a threat, and are standing in front of his body, which would make rolling over very awkward (he is laying on his side)

He gets a chance as they force him to roll over and runs. For anyone arguing this, I will make it clear he was never aggressive, was calm, doing his best to be obedient, and these cops were VERY escalated for no reason. If you thought cops were going to beat the shit out of you ever, that moment was definitely it.

Let me also note it is now known most of these cops were from a special unit meant to _descalate police violence_

The videos I have seen so far only show one cop pulling up. The rest are all at this point, after he has run, as they pull up on him being restrained

Most if not all of these cops seem really fucking out of shape and pissed they "had" to run/struggle with him. Many are out of breath and leaning over, hands on knees, as they take turns beating Tyre. Also that they pepper sprayed him and got it in their own eyes.

The pole cam footage is extremely clear. Cops hold him up by the arms as another wails on him. Another whips out his baton (again, while this man is restrained) and starts beating him. Some run up and kick him while he is on the ground. If you took a movie of a hero being tortured by the bad guys, the setup was just like that. No ambiguity or mess of bodies. Just very clearly holding him for someone else to beat him.

Most of his movement is response to being repeatedly maced, like flinching, curling up, or reaching for his face. They act like these are escape attempts and reason to continue to "restrain" him.

He is often in a position in which he is restrained and cannot run. There is no escape or need to subdue, yet they continue.

When he is beaten to the point of being unable to react anyone, they mill around, talking about how much their knees hurt or are out of breath. Two fist bump. More officers are on scene by now, all just milling about casually. They walk over and observe him with flashlights, but not in an observation manner concerned about wellbeing (this sounds vague but the distance/body posture on the video is very clear on it).

He is mumbling and slurring due to injury. They say loudly, for the benefit of the new cops, that he is as high as a kite a few times. There is no mention of him being high until he is slurring, and no slurring until he has been heavily beaten. He is coherent and clear up until then.

It's all fuckin horrible and disturbingly casual. But we've seen it plenty of times if only from one camera angle, and this, currently, has 4. They say it's not normal police conduct because they can't talk around the proof, when we all know it is. I don't know what else to say here.

#tyre nichols #video