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#but always ending up nestling on Stephen's lap
snarkyship-main · 3 years
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A Sorcerer and his Familiar 🍃
Stephen has never liked witches and their craft, but something he has always envied them was the ability to create a magical bond with animals. He was about to give up on finding a familiar, when he came across an injured, green-eyed barn owl with a strong magical trace. While taking care of it, Stephen discovered that, while the creature was truly a little shit, the compatibility between their magic was extraordinary! Therefore the sorcerer decided to take the owl as familiar, unaware that the animal was actually the witch Loki, trapped in that body because of a little mistake...
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((yes, he matched his outfit to the owl))
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boop-le-snoot · 3 years
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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 22
First time reader click here
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TWs/Summary: FLUFF! Inappropriate jokes! The team being a family of mother hens. Steve + WAP! Reader's old man fetish is ✨blossoming✨. Stephen is finally evolving from Grinch into a human being.
a/n: How do we feel about Wanda/Loki pairing? Loki is comparatively around Wanda's/Reader's/Pietro's age, e.g. he's a young adult. Also, new divider.
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All three of us spilled out of the elevator in a flurry of wet hair, outrageously large shopping bags and the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon-infused chocolate. Picture perfect friends - our arms were linked, we stood side to side, our bags mixed up. Loki's silky black hair was dripping cold water onto my face and my own clothes sticking to me in uncomfortable places.
It started pouring buckets when we got into my car to go back to the tower. Wanda complained about being hungry and after a brief detour in one of the hole-in-the-wall, hidden gem, French boulangeries, all three of us were pleasantly relaxed and companionable under the influence of hot chocolate and fresh, warm croissants (Loki ate, like, ten, royal manners be damned). The five minute run from the parking lot to the main entrance resulted in us being way too soaked to be comfortable - thankfully, the shopping bags seemed to be waterproof. Or, perhaps, Loki enchanted them somehow.
"Stop fucking cheating, Rogers..." Tony was grumbling in frustration, looking at an array of cards in his hands, squinting suspiciously at a smug Steve.
Noticing us, the room perked up immediately. Thor lifted his head and we saw him and Pietro splayed out on the couch, each male holding a play station controller. Stephen Strange was sat cross-legged on the floor, reading a book, while Natasha filed her nails next to him, a face of tranquility and indifference.
We almost backpedaled from the amount of puppy eyes suddenly gazing at us.
"Sup?" I decided to go first, seeing as both of my companions were still mostly confused. What the hell, I was equally perplexed.
"How was your day, brother?" and "Got yourself a nice dress?" and "Marchesa? Not bad." Were the most intelligible words I could make out of the cacophony that descended upon us.
And it suddenly downed on me. Neither Wanda nor Loki had previously left for the city on their own. Their siblings were worried. I sighed, concealing my happiness behind a quiet complaint of being cold and wet. My bags were picked up by Thor who abandoned his game in favour of greeting his brother with a hug. Surprisingly, Loki didn't refuse and let Thor embrace him and relieve us of our items to deposit them out of the way.
"Cold," Wanda whined, stripping off her damp sweater to reveal simple black leggings and tee underneath.
"Wet," Loki mumbled, gathering a ball of green magic to dry out his dripping hair.
"Gross," I said, walking straight into Tony's open arms. He didn't say anything, just indicated my place was in his lap, squeaking and shivering as soon as I reached my destination.
"Baby girl, you're gonna get sick. Let's go take a bath," He unsuccessfully attempted to lift my limp body. I groaned in protest, dead on my feet. It felt like I had walked a thousand miles. Wasn't gonna remove myself from a warm, soft Tony.
"I'm dead, like, I'm a zombie. If you move me, I'll eat that sexy brain of yours," I threatened fitfully.
"Well, at least change out of these clothes. You're dripping me in gross, polluted rain water," The engineer laughed.
"Lazy," I replied, nestling myself closer to his warmth. He tugged on my clothes, wrestling me out of the top layers, leaving me shivering like a newborn kitten across his lap. His eyes darted across the room - evidently, he was looking for some sort of a hoodie as he wasn't wearing one at the time. Tony knew how much I loved those and always kept one in his vicinity. Thoughtful, lovely Tony.
"Have you seen my MIT sweatshirt?" He asked and everyone replied negative. Tony frowned.
"Here, have mine," Strange stood up, unzipping and handing me his own plain grey one. "I'll make some herbal tea for the girls least they actually get sick." With that, the grumpy doctor walked off into the kitchen. I watched his broad back retreat with renewed interest. Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave...
One warm hoodie and hot tea later, I was feeling less like a drowned cat and more like the fabulous human being that I was. Wanda had told everyone about her two cute new dresses without actually revealing the idea behind her costume. Somehow all of us silently agreed to surprise each other after I pulled my stunt on Stephen.
Strange didn't seem to be mad at me; his presence was amiable and delightful. He made usual small talk and we engaged in a brief, friendly battle of the wits and he and Tony managed to not piss off each other too much. Loki and Wanda hung nearby, and we chatted, too, mostly about less popular but very cool movies the three of us could watch... Yeah, so we were arranging a sleepover. Bite me.
"So, everyone ready for the party?" Clint was all but bouncing in his seat. "Me and Sammy-boy, we'll have the coolest costumes!" He exclaimed, smirking in Tony and Bruce's direction. Something was coming, something great, from my two boys. I could sense it. Natasha probably knew and tattled to Clint already. The bird bros fist-bumped with an obnoxious cheer.
I was feeling drowsy. The tea Strange made had something calming in it. My usual energetic spirit was gone, replaced by a mellow sort of mood. Plus, my feet hurt from all the walking. I moaned in distaste, flexing my toes.
"I disagree," Wanda shared a secretive smile with Loki and me.
Apparently, my discomfort was quite obvious. It took only another quiet, pitiful groan from me for Bruce to scoot closer, remove my socks and tenderly knead the arch of my foot. He smiled at me, soft and gentle, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft, painful spots.
"Yeah, Pigeon, no amount of make-up will help that ugly mug," Tony declared with a wave of his hand.
"Tony!" Sam defended his bird bro, tossing a pillow at the engineer and missing me by barely an inch.
"You don't need any make-up, bird. You need plastic surgery." I jumped on the bully Clint bandwagon for the lolz. He was actually quite handsome, but his reactions always were fucking priceless. All of us occasionally ruffled his feathers but never to an actually hurtful extent.
"Not gonna lie, that one hurt." Barton huffed, crossing his arms.
Meanwhile, Bruce had moved onto my other foot. I had to hold in a bunch of very lewd, inappropriate noises. Tony was grinning above me, not at all affected by me squirming around. Banner grinned back at the engineer. They were definitely plotting something.
That just wouldn't do, I decided. Time to throw Rick and Morty off their course a little. I stretched leisurely, allowing the hem of my borrowed hoodie to lift, exposing an inch too much of skin than strictly appropriate.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve's arched eyebrow and the small secretive smirk he hid behind a cup of tea. The Captain wasn't as virtuous as the others thought and he definitely was onto me.
Bruce still wreaked havoc on my vestibular system by doing some magical voodoo shit to my toes and traded suspicious grins with Tony who radiated an unfair amount of smugness.
"Oh my God," I stretched with a moan of contentment. "Fucking rail me." I might have used this particular choice of words on purpose. The Avengers that memed with me knew the actual meaning but they were in the minority. Most, including Tony and Bruce, gasped in shock at my choice of words. I grinned innocently. "What?"
"We don't use that kind of language around here!" Steve exclaimed, barely hiding a full-fledged laugh behind his cup.
"Cap, a lot has changed in the past seventy years, if you didn't notice," Barton rolled his eyes. "Women are allowed to express themselves now."
"Men think it's pretty hot, actually," Tony remarked, giving me one of his positively mischievous smiles, gently stroking my cheek and dipping his index finger under the hem of my top, following the lines of my collarbone. "It's just that Cap got left out in the cold."
"Very funny, Tony," Steve groaned as the rest of the group laughed. "We don't need a repeat of the WAP incident."
I choked on my breath. "The WHAT incident?!"
Laughter drowned out Steve's stuttering explanation as the supersoldier blushed, possibly, the most saturated shade of scarlet I'd ever seen on a human's face. I had to stop Bruce from continuing to make my limbs into Jell-O, wanting to hear the full story clearly. Anything that warranted such a strong reaction from Steve was bound to be, like, equal parts extremely embarrassing and hilarious. Bucky was laughing up a storm, a tell-tale sign of him having taken direct actions to ensure Steve would be as confused and ashamed as possible.
"Steve caught Peter listening to the song and asked him about it. Peter refused to answer at first, so Bucky decided to mess with Steve a bit," Pietro began explaining. "So Bucky goes: WAP stands for wasted academic potential. Steve sits on it a couple of days, believing his boyfriend like the naïve old man he is," Pietro was gesturing vividly, arms flailing, as the Captain buried his face in his hands. "Lo and behold, Steve had to give a Captain America speech at some sort of school for delinquent children. And at the end of it all - Natasha has that bit on video, by the way - he gives his stern Captain look and goes "WAP is no joke!"!" The speedster laughed out loud along with everybody.
I was howling at that point, staring at Steve. Did the old man realize all the answers to his questions were a simple Google search away? "NO, he didn't, oh my God," I wheezed, suddenly having realized where it was going.
"He totally did!" Clint continued, giving Pietro a fond look and a chance to catch his breath. "The whole student population was laughing, tears rolling down their faces, as the principal started angrily ranting right in Steve's face. And he was just so, so-o confused. Man, his face..." Clint shook his head. "He left so freaking red in the face I thought he was going to have a heart attack. The students had started singing the song, the uncensored version - mind you - at some point and Steve just progressively got redder and redder."
"I'm seventy percent Irish, I can't help it!" Steve cried in his own defense, the famous blush on full display, but laughing nonetheless as he clutched onto his left boob for dear life.
"And one hundred percent dumbass!" Bucky clapped his boyfriend on the shoulder.
I nodded along, me and Tony a howling pile of limbs. The engineer himself was holding onto me for dear life, too winded to make any of his usual snarky commentary regarding Steve's epic failure. "Pure of heart, dumb of ass," I wheezed out my sudden realization.
"Shit, I'm getting that on a t-shirt," Tony sent himself into another cackle fest. "That's brilliant, Princess."
Bucky nodded along, "I'm buying one for this punk." He pointed at Steve, poking him in the right pec.
"Jerk," Steve's gaze was annoyed but fond as he gently shoved his boyfriend before placing a gentle kiss atop his head. Old people in love, so adorable.
"May I request one for my brother as well?" Loki interjected, eyebrow raised, eyeing Thor trying to pry open a carton of ice cream and failing to notice the little plastic lid covering the top part of it. The blonde was utterly oblivious both to his brother and to the chaos around him, set on his quest for salted caramel pecan creamy goodness. I couldn't say I didn't see the appeal...
"What did you call - himbos?" Stephen eyed me curiously, pointing to Thor and Steve with a shaky hand.
I nodded in response. "Harmless, loveable, kind, beefy and utter dumbasses," I pointed out the main characteristics. "I love himbos."
"You said my brain was sexy," Tony pouted, pressing me closer to him and in turn, making my legs wrap around Bruce in a funny way that brought all three of us in a weird sandwich hug. I must've died and gone to heaven once again. "This is bullshit," And Tony fuckin' bit me. The bastard sunk his teeth into my shoulder strong enough to leave a mark.
"I love big, fat brains. Unf," My attempt at a salacious voice only made people laugh. "No PhD, no pussy. I don't make the rules," I snorted loudly.
"You and your old man kink," Wanda chuckled good-naturedly, casting me a knowing glance over the tops of her friends' heads.
"Yes," I agreed solemnly, pulling Tony in for a kiss without an ounce of shame or reservation, catching Stephen's amused face meeting my eyes for a brief second, his eyebrow raised meaningfully. Looked like someone took my comment a little close to heart. Nobody really batted an eye at Bruce being in the middle of our cuddle puddle so if I had to guess, Stephen Strange was at least interested... Or was he silently judging me?
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THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie
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strangest-loser · 4 years
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IT Rewrite
Stay With Me ( And You Can Dream Forever)
Chapter One
MASTERLIST
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Rhiannon Erica Denbrough was born on January 4, 1976, six minutes before her twin brother William Stephen Denbrough, who everyone called Bill. Her parents Sharon and Zack doted on their children and the twins grew up absolutely inseparable. That was until five years later, little George Elmer Denbrough was born.
The five year old twins were confused and upset when it was explained to them that they would have to share their parents with another little baby and they took to hiding from their pregnant mother in protest of their new sibling, but on the evening of September 18th 1981 Rhiannon woke up from a nightmare crying for her Mommy to comfort her only to find her grandmother sitting in the living room, her parents nowhere in sight. The thought that her parents had left them caused Rhiannon to become hysterical, waking Bill up in the process who cried at the mere sight of his twin sister crying. After some comfort from their nanna they tuckered themselves out and the next morning they were both woken up by their father and bundled into the car to meet their baby brother Georgie.
The last time either of them had been in a hospital was a year ago when Bill fell off the swing set in their back yard and broke his arm. Four year old Rhiannon didn’t really understand what had happened but she knew that Billy was crying so she leapt off the swing set too to try and make him feel better, she ended up with a sprained wrist and neither of their parents were too impressed. But this time was different, they didn’t come in through the ER, they used the front doors, and neither of them were in pain when they were walking hand in hand with their dad towards the room that their Mom was lying in. The sight of their Mommy lying in the hospital bed triggered big smiles and instant chatter from the five year old twins who were immediately quietened by their mother. Rhiannon was the first person to spot the tiny bundle tucked up in their mothers arms and once her eyes met the blanket covered figure she fell silent, staring in awe and curiosity. “Do you want to meet him Rhiannon?” Sharon sounded tired but her soft smile stopped the little girl from hiding behind her father legs. She was thoroughly overwhelmed by the situation but her little feet carried her to climb on to the bed and nestle into her mothers arm looking down into the little face of her baby brother Georgie. Billy had a similar reaction to his sister and as soon as the twins saw little Georgie Denbrough they immediately became his protectors and closest friends.
The years passed by and soon it was 1988. Rhiannon was 12 and growing into a confident and talented little lady, her mom was teaching her piano and she loved to read while Billy loved art and Georgie was great at building things out of Legos. Playing her scales was something Rhiannon did every day after school before practicing through her pieces to get her grade. But that evening her parents were out on a date so she and Billy were babysitting Georgie. 
“Come on Georgie, you know we have already let you stay up an hour past your bedtime,” Rhiannon scolded lightly while tickling the boy into a fit of giggles. Billy walked back into the room after grabbing Georgie’s pajamas and lifted Georgie out of his big sisters torturous hold. “But Ro, I’m not tired,” Georgie complained before trying to smother a yawn. Georgie was trying to rebel after Sharon and Zack announced to the trio of siblings that they were in fact inspecting a fourth child, Georgie was not really excited to be a big brother. 
The twins shared a knowing look before Rhiannon started to help Georgie into his PJ’s, “Alright little one, what’s the matter?” She spoke softly tucking him in before she and Bill laid down beside their brother who let out a little sigh and began to spill out his worries. “I know that Mommy and Daddy love you and me and Billy, but I’m scared that when Mommy has her baby that her and Daddy wont have time for me anymore.” Georgie’s little face was sad and worried and Rhiannon immediately scooped him up into her lap letting him snuggle into her neck. “You know, we had the same worries when you were born,” Bill offered into the conversation his hand rubbing soothing strokes along the little ones back.
"Mommy used to sing us a song whenever we were worried about someone new joining our family," Rhiannon confirmed smiling at Georgie's awed face before he begged her to sing it for him too. Bill nodded at the slightly older twin before she caved, "alright, now come in close then." Georgie laid tucked into her side while Billy sat on Georgie's opposite side running his hand through Georgie's blonde hair. Rhiannon smiled at the boys before her voice flowed out in the song she had memorised since she was a child.
Everybody is born to care, it's something we were made to share, not to keep to ourselves all alone.
If you make room for someone new, doesn't mean that there's less for you, only means that our circle has grown.
Love knows, love grows, bigger than before.
In your heart there's always more.
Georgie snuggled down closer to his big sister before letting out a big yawn, he loved when his big sister sang for him because she was really good. It was immediate comfort for the youngest Denbrough.
It's magic the more you give it away, the more love comes back to you everyday.
Rhiannon smiled fondly down at her baby brother before poking his side's to produce a sleepy giggle.
You are my Georgie and I am your Ro, always forever, wherever we go.
Love knows, love grows bigger than before, in your heart there's always more,
Always more.
Georgie's even breathing gave it away that he had finally fallen asleep so Rhiannon replaced her body with his stuffed turtle and her and Bill crept out of the room and shut the door. When Sharon and Zack came home that night to find the twins reading side by side they bid them soft good nights before going in to kiss Georgie goodnight.
~October~
Rhiannon let her fingers drift across the white keys trying to slowly muscle her way through learning claire de lune. Every wrong note was mounting on her nerves and she was getting frustrated with it. Her impending rage was interrupted by Georgie running in and out of the room towards the basement. "Be careful down there Georgie!" She called after her baby brother who quite honestly had a knack for getting in trouble. "I will!" He called back through the open door and Rhiannon took this as a cue to take one more crack at her piano lesson. But after another fail she was one step away from breaking their beautiful piano so she decided that the most ethical decision was to take a break. Her mind wandered as her eyes drifted towards the basement door, their basement was well organised so it shouldn't be taking Georgie to find whatever he was looking for. Standing from her stool she crossed the room into the hallway and peered into the basement. It was dark and she couldn't see Georgie down there. "Georgie, everything ok?" She called softly into the black void and was answered by Georgie sprinting back up the stairs with the box of wax in his hands, running right into the arms of his big sister who scooped up the little man and at his request, carried him back up to their brother Billy's bedroom.
After melting down the wax herself so that Georgie couldn't hurt himself Rhiannon watched as Bill painted the liquid over Georgie's little paper boat to seal it from the rain. "Will you come out and play with me Ro?" Georgie pleaded using his puppy dog eyes on his big sister knowing they would work, they always did. "Sure Georgie, piano was getting boring anyway. Just wait for me at the door."
The little boy ran out of the bedroom thanking his big brother for his toy before disappearing down the stairs and out of sight. Rhiannon turned her attention to her twin who was getting over being sick for the past week. Her hand met his forehead and feeling no temperature she smiled and told him to finish eating his soup and get a little more sleep. Shutting the door she crossed the hallway passing Georgie's room and her parents room to finally meet her bedroom. Grabbing her green raincoat off the hook on her door she slid it on over her sweater and stuffed her feet into her matching green galoshes. She shut the door to her bedroom and began to walk down the stairs, breaking into a run when she saw the door open, Georgie no where in sight.
It was pouring outside and it took a second for Rhiannon to spot her baby brother in the rain before she found him kneeling over next to the storm drain, running to him she gripped his shoulders making him look at her "Georgie you can't run off like that ok? Anything could have happened to you, promise me!" She ranted out in one breath her hand falling to the steel drain entrance, completely unaware of the glowing yellow eyes growing ever closer to her hand. She took one look at a swelling bruise forming on her baby brothers head before asking him.
"Did you hit your hea-"
White clawed fingers grabbed her wrist in an iron grip before ripping her down to the drain. She couldn't even think in time to stop herself and her head burned when it smashed against the drain, a sick crack reverberated throughout the rainy street and Rhiannon was out cold, her blacked out body lying face down in the rain, blood running from her head. She was completely dead to the world, dead to the agonised screaming of her baby brother as he was dragged deep down into the sewers, on the intersection of Jackson Street and Witcham Street.
The regulated beeping of the room around her made the pain spike in Rhiannon's head. Waking up caused her heart monitor to spike and for nurses to pile into the room pressing buttons and writing on charts. They were swiftly followed by Sharon and Zack who were failing to hide Bill behind them as they stood at the door. Her head was spinning and she begged a nurse to silence the beeping heart monitor that only grew faster and louder as her head swam. Her parents didn't get any closer even though Bill was clearly reaching for his sister. Her confusion started to make her upset. "Where's Georgie?"
She could read the heartbreak on her parents faces before her mother fell to the ground sobbing and her father refused to meet his daughters gaze.
Her confusion turned to disbelief, then hysteria. No. No that wasn't possible. This was Georgie that they were talking about, her baby, he had to be ok. "No," she whispered, the heart rate monitor next to her bed began screaming along with the girl who was strapped to it. "No No No NO NO NO YOUR LYING! HE HAS TO BE OK YOUR LYING!!" She began to rip the wires our of her arms screaming and sobbing. Nurses held her down as she thrashed and screamed for her baby brother before a doctor stabbed her with a syringe that began to make her head swim as her screams of Georgie's name became whimpers as the drugs forced her brain to power off, sleep hitting her like a train.
Grief would haunt her for the rest of her life.
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This is the first part of my IT Rewrite!
I love this series and I have been so excited to write this.
The song that Rhiannon sings to Georgie is a song called 'Always more' and it's from a Barbie movie called Island Princess, this series is operating off the basis that those movies don't exist 😂
I'll be covering both It Chapter One and Chapter Two so get ready for one hell of a story.
Let me know if you want to be tagged and I hope you enjoy.
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nanabrainrot · 4 years
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ahhh I love your writing so much! Would you ever write some joe fluff from YWNRH? I think my heart would stop 🥺
I’ll brew up some fluffy headcanons for handsome ol’ Joe ;)
Fluffy Joe Headcanons
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• Joe is a relatively docile man unless provoked to be otherwise. He is calm and, unfortunately, cynical of the world because of how bad he’s witnessed it to be. You give him hope that sometimes good people are genuinely good people.
• He craves domesticity. He’s a bit older and has had brief and few romances. It’s out of your control to do the same but you support his endeavors. You only want to be there to comfort him after a rough mission, to soothe his weary soul. His PTSD sometimes results in spurts of dissociation and you try to ground him, give him kind whispers and rub circles on his back in the dark of night before bed, before you turn the light out and bookmark his new Stephen King book for him. A part of him craves a life where he wasn’t in his line of work, hadn’t been exposed to what led him down this road, but knows the difference his job makes. He plays pretend that he could come home to you and a fresh meal every night, but that future feels so distant that it feels unreachable sometimes; he hopes you understand that normality is beyond him and that you’ll stay through thick and thin and love him (and you do).
• He’s always touching you, holding your hand, your waist, your arm, your leg on the sofa, he can’t bear to be too far from you. Physical affect is his primary love language. That being said, PDA is generally shied away from because of his little hobby to protect you, but he sometimes can’t help sneaking you away for a few kisses if you wear an outfit he likes or a different perfume. Late night TV feels wrong if you aren’t settled in his lap, in one of his older t-shirts, nestled into the nape of his neck... you always fall asleep halfway through the reruns of “Family Matters.” He carries you to bed most nights.
• He loves taking you out for date nights, you like simple things, but he likes spoiling you with a nice dinner every two weeks on sunday. If date night gets missed due to his work, he calls you to tell you how much he misses you (yes, he ends every call with kissy noises. Every single one). You’re in his phone as “sweetheart,” he rarely calls you your name.
• Joe is naturally protective. He’s built himself around the concept of protecting others and it’s so natural that nearly everything he does trickles through with some sort of attempt to keep you safe. You can see it when he holds you closer on the sidewalk, when he immediately locks the doors when you get in the car, when pushed your bed to wall, so he can sandwich you between the wall and him to protect you. It’s always, always there.
• Overall, he’s a gruff man but he’s a good boyfriend. After getting bothered by his mother to be married or have a family, he wants a woman that could, possibly, just maybe, be a wife and a mother, be a safe haven and a heaven on Earth. His job demands him to be brutal for the sake of playing savior and you give him the opportunity to show himself that he’s capable of having a tender touch and loving hands. He keeps your picture in his wallet, a polaroid with your pink Dior lipstick stamped on it as a joke you laughed hard at on your ninth date, by the beach even though it was freezing as shit. You make him forget what he’s done to others. Now all that matters is what he does, what he can do for you.
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emptycanoflizards · 5 years
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Parkner snowed in at Avengers compound?
I fell in love with this prompt. It ended up being over 2000 words...
The night seemed like a dream to Peter. He was surrounded by his childhood heroes (Whom he had been with consecutively for the past two weeks almost, yet he still couldn’t get over it), cuddled up next to his biggest crush, wearing Christmas pajamas, and watching Christmas movies over a giant fireplace. There was just no way this was real! Of course, this wasn’t quite how the night was supposed to go. Originally, Natasha and Clint were due to go out of town tonight, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were going to go grocery shopping and grab dinner for everyone, Stephen was supposed to go back home, and Harley and Tony “Probably had some work to do or something.”But the snow came down hard, flights got canceled, roads were closed, Stephen just didn’t want to go home, and Peter had an awfully convincing look in his eyes that one particular blond couldn’t deny. All of which led to quite an amazing night of being snowed in. 
The group decided to come together and cook dinner that night since it hadn’t happened in quite a long time. Natasha taught Peter and Harley how to make Kutya, which was a type of thick pudding made of lots of sweet stuff that made Pete really excited. She taught them, after a fond glance around, that it symbolizes unity in families. After it was finished, the boys got to throw a spoonful of the pudding onto the ceiling to see their futures. Harley’s spoonful stuck, which was supposed to mean that a plentiful honey harvest was to be expected, though, he didn’t keep bees, so he had no idea what it really meant. Peter’s, on the other hand, dripped onto his nose after being tossed up. The older boy let out a snort and stepped closer to carefully wipe the dish off his face. “Guess you’ll just have to share my harvest, then,” he added quietly, as though it was just some secret between the two, which made Peter’s stomach do flip as he nodded back in agreement. Next to them at the stove, Steve and Bucky were trying to figure out how to make a meatloaf that Steve’s mother used to make them back in the day but seemed to be having little success, seeing as there was now ketchup and oats all over their side of the counter. But both of them were smiling so much that no one really wanted to step in and help. Sam was across from them, meticulously cutting out a mix of sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies into little Christmas shapes. Before they started cooking, he had boldly claimed that he could make the best Christmas cookies in the world, to which almost everyone challenged him on, because Stephen had brought home Wong’s cookies before, and everyone was convinced that those were other-worldly because of how good they were. Tony and Stephen were in their own little world by now as they put together a selection of drinks, including eggnog and holiday punch, both spiked and unspiked. They were in a deep conversation about which country had the best Christmas traditions, and which ones Tony was sober enough to remember, back in the day. Amazing how the man had changed. Clint, as though supervising everyone, wandered around to take pictures of everyone as they worked. It was rare that everyone got together to do something like this, and despite missing a few people, he absolutely had to document everything for later viewing. It was about an hour later that everyone had finished the dishes they were working on and finally sat down at the scarcely used dining room table. Harley had put on a playlist of Christmas songs, which ended up hardly being heard over the constant shouts and laughter of the conversation. They ended up realizing that no one here actually celebrated Christmas, even though the compound was decked out in decor, Christmas tree and everything. Steve had tried to argue that he was still a very fine Christian boy, but almost everyone agreed that they had heard, walked in, or seen the aftermath of activities with Bucky that absolutely no God was involved in, and he quickly surrendered with a guilty laugh. Sometime later, it had grown dark outside, everyone felt full and warm and fuzzy, and the snow continued to fall. Steve stood up and began to collect people’s plates when Peter piped up and suggested they all watch a movie. Everyone was in complete agreement, and voting went down without a hassle, unanimous agreement upon Elf for their first movie. So the Heros and such went back to their rooms quickly to change into more comfortable clothes while Tony set up the projector in the living room. Peter was off in a flash, just excited to get back and start the movie. Harley trailed behind him, laughing softly at how fast the younger boy moved. He had already changed and was waiting outside Peter’s door when the other came out, dressed in a pair of reindeer pajama pants and a Midtown High sweatshirt, which just so happened to counter Harley’s own Christmas tree pants and Rose Hill High t-shirt. “Well look at you, handsome!” He said, looking over him with a smile as soon as he stepped into the hall. The blush on Peter’s cheeks was obvious even in the dim light of the hallway, which only made the older smile wider. “I like your pants,” Peter responded, giggling softly as he looked down at them. They were pretty ridiculous; they each had a different set of eyes on them and had little speech bubbles next to them, aggressively shouting different Christmas phrases. “Thanks,” Harley responded with a chuckle. “Clint got them for me a year or two ago. We were supposed to get each other pajamas, so I got him a Pikachu onesie, and he got me these-”“That's where that came from?! He never would tell me!” He exclaimed, his smile lighting up even more. “I always thought he got it himself and didn’t want to admit it!” Harley shook his head, chuckling softly as he started walking towards the elevator. “Nope, all me. I’m really the mastermind behind his sense of fashion.” A piece of his blond hair fell across his forehead as he stopped to press the button and Peter had to consciously restrain himself from reaching up and pushing it back into place. Above the two boys, the rest of the Avengers were already set up with buckets of popcorn and kettle corn, mugs full of hot cocoa, cider, and eggnog, and blankets to spare. The previews before the movie were already starting, despite everyone still milling around and getting comfortable. By the time Harley and Peter got back to the living room, Bucky was laying across Steve with a bucket of popcorn nestled under his arm, his eyes focused intently on the screen, Sam was on the other end of the couch, slowly inching Bucky’s legs off of him with a glass of cider in his hands. Strange was in the corner, floating with a blanket around his shoulders and kettle corn in his lap, Natasha and Clint were sitting on the other loveseat, still arguing happily over how they were intending to sit, and Tony had disappeared into the kitchen. This seating arrangement left the boys to sit in front of the couches with the cushions on the ground. Neither of them saw this as a problem, as Harley plopped down on one and opened his arms for Peter to come and join him. Without thinking, the brunet sat down and leaned into his embrace, earning a soft, satisfied hum from Harley. He carefully shrugged a blanket around them and leaned back against the couch that Natasha and Clint had finally gotten comfortable with. Peter ended up laying his head on Harley’s shoulder, which he didn’t think about until the other boy started carefully playing with his hair. His cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t move an inch, deciding that this was just what he needed at the moment. Steve and Bucky were the first to retire that night, about halfway through the movie (right when Jody and Buddy go on their date), claiming that it had been a long day, and sleep was necessary. Next was Strange, coincidentally at the same time that they noticed Tony shuffling down towards the elevator. He left with no explanation right after the beginning of Love Actually, which was Clint's choice, for the record. A quarter of the way through the movie, Sam got up to hit the hay, which was right around the same time that Peter could hear Natasha’s breath even out, signifying that she had fallen asleep. Harley continued to make fun of the movie characters in a hushed tone, earning a good amount of quiet laughs from Peter, especially when he added whichever Avenger left next to his list of people to tease. By the time Clint picked Natasha up to carry her to her room, the boys had made a makeshift blanket tent over themselves and were giggling about god knows what. The older man just let out a chuckle and turned on some Christmas music as to not distract the boys. It wasn’t until later when Peter realized he only heard two heartbeats in the room instead of four or more, that they realized that they were alone. It was then that he realized just how close the two had gotten. Their noses were nearly touching under the blanket, which made his cheeks turn light pink. Harley glanced down at his cheeks, at least Peter thought it was at his cheeks, and chuckled softly. “Need some air?” he asked, motioning to the blanket that was now surrounding them. Apparently, Peter’s laugh wasn’t a good enough response for him, as Harley tossed the blanket off of them and scooted off of the couch. He offered his hand to him with a smug smile on his lips. Peter took it with a confused expression on his face, and let out a little yelp when Harley suddenly pulled him closer. He wrapped his arm softly around his waist and brought him so they were almost chest to chest. Peter’s cheeks were aflame now, much to Harley’s amusement. “Do ya know how to dance?” he asked in a low tone. The younger shook his head, his eyes glued to Harley’s blue ones, which only seemed bright with the reflection of the fireplace in them. “No.. Never really something I thought to learn about..” He let out a chuckle that seemed to warm Peter’s insides. “Smartest person I know, and you never learned how to slow dance? Seems fake. But then again, neither did I..” He started swaying them softly back and forth to the music, smiling down at the younger boy. He looked so beautiful in the lighting of the fire; it was almost un-earthy how the light of the fire played off of his dark curls, and how the shadows seemed to catch his cheeks at just the right angles. What really seemed perfect was when he carefully laid his head on the older boy’s chest, sighing softly. “Whatcha thinking about, Petey?” He asked, his voice just over a whisper. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes. “Nothing, really. What about you, Harles?” His grip around his waist seemed to tense up a little, but he let out a breath and it went back to how it was the second before. “Well… There's this boy,” he started, the usual confidence that resided in his voice seems to disappear for the time being. “And I can’t stop thinking about him. Haven’t been able to for a while. He’s super smart and super cute, and I really like cuddling and dancing with him. All that cheesy shit. And he’s a really good cook and he chooses really good movies to watch, and… I dunno, Petey. I can’t get this boy out of my head…” Peter didn’t move, other than to continue to sway to the music. He knew his own heart was beating at an unusually fast rate, but he could also hear how nervous Harley was. Was this real? Did Harley actually mean him? A million thoughts ran through his head as he listened to Harley’s heartbeat. He had liked him for what felt like forever. Since the first time Tony had introduced them in the lab almost two years ago now. The way that Harley was confident with everything that he did but caring enough to take a step back and make sure that it was okay. How chaotic he was but in such an effective, good way. How comfortable he seemed to make Peter feel, no matter the situation; he always made him feel safe and taken care of around Harley. He realized how badly he wanted to kiss him over a year ago, and from there it was just a downhill spiral for Peter. But it was around that time that Harley had gotten more affectionate too. There was more cuddling during movies, more hugs when they saw each other again after a long time, more accidental touching when they were cooking. But Peter had always passed it up as Harley getting more comfortable around him. Purely platonic. But was it?He felt Harley shift above him, looking down at him, nervously, almost. “I… I was thinking about telling this guy, ya know? But I don’t know if he would feel the same… Whatcha think?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I-I think.. I think that this boy would be an-an idiot not to take you.. I think h-he would be really excited. I think he’s probably been waiting a long time to hear this..” Peter whispered back, not taking his head off his chest, mainly out of anxiety. Harley paused for a second, his heart racing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked back down at him. “Peter?” he asked, trying to get the brunet to look up at him. After their eyes met, he knew he couldn’t do anything else. Harley leaned down and brushed his lips tentatively against Peter’s, just testing the water. What he didn’t expect was for Peter to kiss right back. When their lips connected, it felt like everything was right in the world. Like nothing could go wrong, ever again. Neither of them ever wanted the moment to end. But after a second, the blond broke off, looking down at him with a nervous smile. “I… so uh… Wi-will.. Peter..?” He asked, still holding him tight as he stuttered. Peter only nodded, but he wasn’t sure if it was an answer or just encouragement. “Will you.. Do you uh.. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”Peter let out a small laugh and nodded more, this time it obviously being an answer. “Yes, you dork. I’d be stupid not to say yes!” Harley let out a breathy laugh as all the tension seemed to leave his body at his answer. “Holy shit..” he whispered, earning an equal laugh from the other. “Yeah… good holy shit, right?” “Fantastic holy shit,” He murmured, smiling softly at him, before ducking down and pressing another soft kiss to his lips.
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insfiringyou · 5 years
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BTS - Suga tells you he loves you for the first time
Contains: Fluff. Super soft smut. Slight angst. Fingering. Oral sex. Vaginal sex. 
Although this is written as reader, we imagine his girlfriend to be Jeong-sun who is a major part of our headcanon universe (find out more about the ongoing plot, original characters etc. here)
This scenario takes place one week after Suga’s part in the If BTS made a sex/intimate tape with their girlfriend scenario
To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin  /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & our full masterlist can be found here
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Rated content below cut
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The days passed slowly, in a dreamy haze, as you spent your first full week in Yoongi’s apartment. You had booked the time off work, the first in months, and relished in not having to spend your days alone in your cramped and cold apartment. He recognised your need to have space and would carry himself off to his small studio, leaving you alone in the bedroom or living room to read the crumpled paperbacks you picked up from the small second-hand shop around the corner. You discovered that Yoongi did not have a big appetite, that he would rarely cook just for himself and that, sometimes, he would get lost in his work and forget to eat altogether. The group were taking a short break following their recent tour in America and, for the first time since you had started dating, you were able to count on being able to spend time with your boyfriend without being uninterrupted by urgent phone calls or knocks at the door. In the first few days, you had ordered takeout pizza or chicken for you both. Now, you had started to cook in the evenings. Yoongi would help to chop the vegetables and stir the oiled food in the pan. Sometimes, you would feel the gentle touch of his hand on your waist as he stood at the kitchen counter behind you, and your heart would ache for him.
Between the intermissions of your time apart, with him working on songs in the studio and you reading the latest Stephen King novel, you would cuddle on the sofa or in bed. Sometimes it would lead to more; you had lost track of the number of orgasms he had given you in the last week alone, but mostly you were content to talk. His thumb would brush your knuckles as you spoke quietly and he would press his lips against your forehead or rest his head on the soft cushion on your breasts as you both sprawled out on the sofa. You wondered whether he had fallen as hard for you as you had for him. You thought, in the week since he had returned from his long tour abroad, there were several occasions where you had been speaking and he would pause for a moment. In the brief interludes of silence, you always wondered whether he was meaning to tell you more. The moment would pass, however, and you would resume your conversation.
The week together was coming to an end. It was Sunday and you were due back at work at 10am on Monday morning. He was going to visit his family in Daegu the following week and you knew, after that, he would be away again with the group, to Japan or Hong Kong or Taiwan. You tried not to think of it as you scrunched your eyes closed and focussed on the sensation of Yoongi’s tongue between your folds. He was still wearing the white t-shirt he had worn to bed and a pair of dark grey boxer shorts; you had come out of the shower not five minutes before, your body wrapped in a large bath towel. You had stayed in bed together until midday, holding each other close as you talked and kissed. The curtains were slightly parted and the warm, spring sun shone through the window and into the room, brightening it. He had visited the bathroom first to brush his teeth, before climbing back into bed while you showered. Now, he watched you from his place beneath the sheets as you left the closed the door to the en-suite and walked towards the bed. No sooner had you perched yourself on the bedding, his hands were on your shoulders, guiding you to the pillows and encouraging you to lie back against the thick duvet. His lips were soft against your shoulders and arms before he dipped lower and removed the loosely fitting towel from around your naked body. You gasped as he nestled himself at the bottom of the bed and moved your legs apart.
You didn’t think you could ever get used to the feeling of his tongue on your clit. He licked it, once, slowly, before closing his mouth around you; sucking you delicately with his plump mouth. You moaned, savouring the warm beam of sunlight which caressed your bare skin through the window. You tried not to think of how long it would be before you got to spend a week like this together again. You sometimes thought that the time you spent together was sometimes harder than the time you were apart. Sure, you missed him like crazy when he was away, but at times like this, when he was so close to you, you likewise found your chest hurting with melancholy. You wondered whether everyone felt like this when they were in love. You didn’t remember feeling this way with your last boyfriend, or the one before that, and you were certain you had believed yourself to have been in love with both of them.
Your thoughts were scattered as Yoongi let go of your clit from between his lips and moved slowly up your body, kissing your thighs, pubis, stomach and breasts before you met his mouth eagerly. Your lips opened gently against one another, he tasted of toothpaste and you. His skin smelt warm and clean and comforting. You thought you would have to find out what laundry detergent he used to wash his clothes and bedding but knew that your own clothes and sheets would not smell the same, even if you tried. You wrapped your arms around his clothed shoulders loosely as he sank into you. You didn’t think you had ever loved being kissed by someone as much as you did by Yoongi. You sighed as he ran his hands delicately over your chest, between the space between your breasts and over the front of your stomach.
Grasping the hem of his white t-shirt with both hands, you moved it over his head. He had dyed his hair black once more in the past week and his soft fringe tickled your face as his lips found yours again. You moved your splayed fingers over his body, feeling the gentle outline of his ribcage and the softness of his stomach above his underwear. He let out a small breathy laugh as your fingertips traced the skin around his bellybutton and you grinned in reply, knowing how ticklish he was. Tracing your fingers downwards to his elasticated waistband, you slowly moved the fabric down, over the gentle curve of his pelvis. You both sighed in unison as you ran your palm across the V shape of his groin, through his pubic hair, before reaching his shaft. Grasping him lightly, you guided him towards you and gasped as he pushed inside, snuggling himself between your legs and resting his pelvis flat against your body as he pulled you closer by your backside.
He fucked you softly, the gravity of this being your last day together for god knows how long hung silently in the air, untold in your mutual breaths and gasps. He pressed his nose to yours as he hit your most sensitive spot and you moaned in delight against his lips. His pelvis pressed against your clit as he moved his hips against yours and you felt yourself getting closer to relief. He sensed the change in your body as you grasped him closer and moved your hips to meet his.
“Yoongi. I’m gonna cum.” You whispered breathily as you felt your walls contract around him, your entire body shuddering. His lips were on yours once more as your body rocked against him. He held you tightly, moving inside of you until you milked out the last of your pleasure; your cunt contracting in small waves before stilling altogether. You kissed lazily, dreamily. His lips massaged yours softly until you pulled away, urging him to continue his thrusting to finish himself. You grasped his hips and encouraged him to move. You were incredibly sensitive from your orgasm and the moans you made were not entirely in pleasure, despite your tight grasp on him. He picked up on your discomfort quickly and stilled his movements once more.
“It’s okay…” You whispered breathily as his dark, beautiful eyes roamed over your flushed face. Despite your protest, he pecked your lips silently and moved his hand to the base of his cock, slipping out of you easily and you breathed a small sigh of relief as he rested against your soft stomach and began to stroke himself slowly. You watched him for a minute, almost hypnotised by his large, veiny hands and knuckles as they moved along his thick cock, brushing against the nerves gently. He noticed you were watching and, a little embarrassed, moved his mouth to yours, kissing you back onto the covers. You ran your hand over his own, feeling the deep grooves and tendons in his wrists and forearms before moving back over his fingers, gently brushing his cock as he stroked himself. He moaned into your mouth, close now to his own release and pulled away from you slowly. You watched as his eyes roamed over your body, lingering on your breasts and you sneaked your arm around the back of his head to encourage him to move closer. Lowering himself to your chest, he captured a nipple between his lips. His small, breathy moans were getting more pronounced now and you gasped in reply as you felt his tongue against your sensitive skin. Your breasts glistened with his saliva as he pulled away and your eyes flickered, once more, to his hard cock.
“Here…” You moved towards him and he repositioned himself as you lowered your head to his lap. Wrapping your hand around his own, you took his cock into your mouth. He gasped as your fingers curled around him and you sank down, pressing your wet tongue against his soft warm skin until you could take no more of him in. You repeated the motion a few times, knowing he was almost there. You let him go with a small pop once you felt him twitch against your cheek. Grasping him tightly at the base, you withdrew and watched as he wrapped his delicate fingers around the tip of his cock and began to jerk himself a little roughly. You moved back onto the bed as he shifted position once more, leaning back over you and spilling himself onto your breasts in a few jolty motions. Automatically, you pushed your upper arms closer together to accentuate your breasts as you felt his seed against your nipples. It was different, and you felt your pulse race as he finished milking himself onto you, his rosebud lips parted in an almost-silent moan as his orgasm consumed him. His body trembled a few times before he came down from his high and opened his eyes, trailing them over your breasts which shimmered with his seed. You worried, for a moment that he was going to apologise. The moment passed, however, and he collapsed silently against your body. The sound of his heavy breathing filled the room and mixed with your own. You could feel your cheeks glowing warm and red as you reached out for his hand.
You stared up at the white ceiling as you felt a shift in the weight at your side. Yoongi had reached over towards the bedside table and had opened the top draw. Pushing past a bundle of underwear and socks, he found a box of tissues and pulled a couple out from the gap in the opening. Slowly and silently, he wiped the remainder of his ejaculate from your chest, trailing the soft tissue gently along the soft flesh of your breasts and the sensitive peaks of your hard nipples.
“Jeong-sun?” He asked quietly, wiping the last of himself from you.
You made a small murmur in acknowledgement.
“I love you.” He pulled the tissue away from your now clean skin and discarded it in the bin beside the bed without moving the main bulk of his body. Your eyes flickered from the ceiling to his face as you moved your head to the side to look at him. His expression was soft and, if you knew him as well as you thought you did, a little worried. Wordlessly, you reached out and touched his cheek with the back of your index finger. He looked down at you gently.
“Yoongi.” You whispered, your voice as still as you could make it. “I love you too.”
His expression softened immediately at your words as his lips parted in a toothy smile. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against him; feeling his teeth and gums beneath your lips. “I love you so much…” You finished, pulling away and feeling a slight relief at having finally told him and knowing that he felt the same way.
***
Thanks for reading <3
To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook
Find more on our masterlist here
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One Kiss (Girls Talk Boys part 5)
Possibilities I look like all you need
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Each chapter has a song title attached so I could keep my files straight on my phone but it ended up really working so I kept it. I have 11 chapters actually written so far but they need revising so I'll be posting every couple of days or so if anyone was curious
Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use and cursing. Usual stuff.
Previous Chapter
She says she's not ready to leave yet. Still trying to find herself. Keeps asking me to buy prosecco. Camille smiled at the message and the picture of her shiny pink pen resting on what she assumed was Calum's couch. Kicking off her blankets, sleep forgotten for the moment, she knew two could play this game. Camille snuck downstairs ignoring the obvious sex noises coming from Cher’s bedroom. Grabbing an empty beer bottle and Calum's Zippo she set the scene on the kitchen counter before snapping a pic.
Drank four Bud Lights before passing out.  Won't stop calling me bro and asking if “they're real.” Tells dad jokes. Camille grinned as she hit send.
I still don't understand how you got my lighter. watch out he'll try to feel you up when he's buzzed Calum was quick to text back
I get to have my secrets. She's a messy queen when she's wine drunk. You've been warned. After hitting send Camille gave in to the butterflies and the way anything and everything Calum did gave her fanny flutter.  She opened the drawer on her nightstand and an incognito tab on her phone.
Camille woke up to her phone chiming. She had to laugh when she opened the message. There was Calum, shirtless, still in bed, hair a mess, and eyes and lips still puffy with sleep looking wide eyed and panicked for the camera. Captioned (It's not what it looks like) Camille could see her pen lying on the bed next to Calum.  Camille took his lighter off her nightstand placing it on her shoulder nestled in her hair she closed her eyes and feigned sleep and took the picture.
It IS what it looks like bro.
It went on like this for days. Calum sent her snaps from the studio, his home, his favorite coffee shop, his walks with his dog Duke under the pretense of holding her pen hostage. Camille reciprocated taking his lighter with her to dance practice with Tom, on her trips to the market, to the shelter where she volunteered. She even placed it somewhere in frame on her IG and Snapchat mock draft videos. Calum had noticed and teased her for going Hollywood. Camille was surprised by how goofy and silly he really was. He came off so stern and serious when they'd meet. Now here he is cracking up at her jokes, pulling silly faces to make her smile and all the time with the compliments. Camille didn't believe them all but she couldn't lie hearing Calum say she was cute, funny or smart made her entire day. She couldn't tell if it was friendship or flirting, but regardless it was a distraction. She reminded herself yet again, a tan gorgeous muscular cheeky distraction.Who has a girlfriend, and you've known less than one month.
Right now Camille needed to focus on being her damn job and not a sexy Australian. She had her first appearance on ESPN today and this game with Calum had messed with her concentration all week. Carefully arranging her hair into a French twist and priming her face for the studio makeup she put on her best charcoal grey A line dress and matching heels and headed for the door. Just before she reached her car she saw Calum walking Duke talking to Harry out for his morning run. She waved and the guys waved back. Harry shot her an appraising smile and a thumbs up. When she got to the studio she checked her phone before silencing it. There was a picture of Calum holding his dog under one arm and her pen against his cheek with a big cheesy grin.
Knock em dead today. You look great. We believe in you.
Camille shut her phone giggling. She then ran face first into a wall. At least it felt like a wall but really it was just a massive mountain of a man. Camille felt an arm encircle her waist keeping her from falling. Looking up she was met with golden eyes, rippling muscles, tattoos everywhere and a huge smile. She just blinked taking in the second best looking man she'd ever met and certainly the biggest. “Oh my gosh are you ok I'm so sorry” he was apologizing as Camille started to recognize who he was. #87 All Pro Wide Receiver for the LA Rams “Hi I'm Quentin Diaz-Castillo” he introduced himself. Holding out his hand to shake hers. “Yes you are” Camille let the words escape before her brain could move. Her hand felt like a child’s compared to his.  Catching herself she shook her head “What I meant to say there was thank you, I'm fine. I'm Camille and it's a pleasure to meet you. You've helped me win my fantasy league twice.” Quentin chuckled “That's cool, a girl being into football.”
By now they had gotten through security to the actual studio and Camille could see her boss chatting with the host of Fantasy Squad. “So Quentin, how's that wrist feeling after surgery” she leaned into him forcing him to crouch to hear her “would you say you'll be back to full strength by the season opener or should we draft Pickens as a handcuff in deeper leagues?” Camille asked with her most wide eyed innocent little girl voice and the devil in her eyes. Quentin stared at her processing her words. Her boss and owner of profantasysports finally spotted them and hurried over. Stephen tossed her a jersey “New season, new merch Cam. Sorry but it just came in.” Camille pulled the jersey over her head avoiding her hair. Looking at Stephen she asked “cap or no cap? Glasses or no? Are we selling smart or cute?” “Both” Stephen replied “no cap, wear your other glasses, and I like your hair up but can you make it, bigger?” The studio stylist nodded and started to lead Cam away. She stopped and placed a hand on Quentin’s arm “you never answered my question.” He answered in a loud stage whisper teasing her “I can't tell you my secrets in front of everyone.” “Fine” she let out a dramatic sigh “I guess you can tell me over dinner.” “I don't have your number” Quentin answered as the stylist pulled Cam away to get her ready for the camera “He does” Cam pointed at Stephen who promptly whipped out his phone.
Cher invited Luke and Tom over so they could watch Camille’s big debut. Calum and Ashton came along with Luke. The theme music for NFL Fantasy Live started and Cher made everyone hush. Cher cheered out loud when her friend appeared on screen. She was split screen with two guys who kept trying to talk over her but Cam was having none of it. It was verbal jujitsu watching her take down both so called experts. She hit all of her talking points, corrected one guy’s stats, name dropped PFS and looked great in the new merch. Cher made everyone in the room high five her when the show ended.
Cam stepped off stage and found Stephen waiting for her. “You were fantastic” her boss looked pleased “I have no doubt they're gonna ask you back.” Internally she was jumping up and down and screaming, on the outside she was still pretty giddy. “That would be amazing” Cam stopped and glanced around hopefully. Stephen noticed “Sorry, he had to leave, he seemed to like you though.” “Did he want my number?” Camille tried and completely failed not to sound too eager. “I gave it to him but don't hold your breath” her boss warned “He has a serious reputation.” Camille turned her phone back on walking to her car. Her phone started buzzing like an electric beehive. She scrolled smiling at messages from her friends and family till she saw Calum's number.
Am I supposed to be impressed? Because I'm impressed.
Her chest fluttered but then an unknown number popped up.
If you're hungry I'm free right now. Look up.
Camille raised her head and there was Quentin lounging against an expensive looking Rover.
“Let's get lunch. I'm starving” Quentin called out. Camille snapped a quick pic and sent it to Cher. Going to lunch with this guy. Don't wait up.
Camille was both thrilled and terrified. The little bistro he'd taken her to was simple yet elegant.  They were tucked away on a little patio to give them a little privacy and Quentin some room. Restaurant chairs just weren't designed with 6’4, 220 lb NFL players in mind. It wasn't just that he was an enormous human being Quentin was even better looking up close. He had an easy smile and his eyes went from chocolate to amber with his moods. Quentin had a great sense of humor and was a natural entertainer.  He kept Camille laughing with story after story about football while also being genuinely interested about her life and interests. They were both into football of course. It turns out Quinton was as obsessed with 90’s music as Cam was. They both loved Game of Thrones, Beyonce and boy bands. Her head was spinning and Camille wasn't sure if it was Quentin or the wine.
The food was excellent. Brined and roasted duck with truffle mac and cheese and fresh snap peas. “I'm glad to see you're a girl who appreciates food” Quentin commented. Camille felt herself blush, she'd always been self conscious about her weight. “What do you mean?” She replied trying not to sound defensive dropping her eyes to her lap. Quentin immediately grabbed her hand across the table. “Nothing is worse than going on a date with a cute girl who won't eat or talk” he winked at her. Now she was blushing as she smiled at him “I've never been afraid of either. In fact not being able to shut up got me here today.”
“I saw your segment. Those jerks kept trying to talk over you” Quentin leaned back motioning for the server “ doesn't that bother you?”
“Of course it does, but I've been playing fantasy for ten years, professionally for three. Before that I worked in restaurants. I'm small, female and pink. Nobody ever takes me seriously, at first” with that Camille’s sour expression switched to a sly grin. Quentin faked a horrified expression “I'd hate to get on your bad side” “They don't call me the Angry Chihuahua for nothing” Camille finished her wine.  Quentin cracked up right as dessert arrived.
The restaurant was known for its “tea”rimisu. Consisting of rolls of spongy floof cake drizzled in the house crafted green tea liqueur, layered with whipped marscapone, more delicious floof cake, topped with a dulce de leche sauce and fresh whipped cream. Camille took her first bite and gazed across the table at Quentin. Their eyes met as the sweetness hit her tongue. Camille felt her heart flutter and knew she'd fallen in love. This cake was that fucking good. She closed her eyes not wanting to let anything ruin the moment. “You should see the look on your face” Quinton teased her. “Now I know your secret to being such a ladies man. Seduction by cake.” Camille teased back.
It was almost 9 pm by the time Camille got home. After dinner she'd wanted to leave a thank you note for the pastry chef. This turned into a quick visit to meet the kitchen staff and Quentin posing for a few photos. Quentin had volunteered to drive her home, but Camille didn't want the hassle of picking up her car the next day. She'd only had one glass of wine with a full meal. She came home to just Cher and a surprisingly tidy house. “Oh you're home, and alone” Cher came out of the kitchen. “Good Lord I just met him this morning I'm not going to drag him to bed that quickly” Camille had to laugh. “Well I ran the boys off just in case” Cher responded “some of them were very eager to meet your date. Cody is dying to hear from you and tell you about him and Nick. Tom says Quentin is one of his favorite players. Calum didn't look all that thrilled though. I wonder why. Probably doesn't want you replacing him as your boyfriend.” “I don't have a boyfriend” Camille snorted. “Not yet” Cher shot back lighting a joint and handing it over.
Next Chapter Jealous
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k-p-p-d · 6 years
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Stay: Green Light (A)
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Pairing: Jisoo x Male OC (feat. Rosé & Lisa)
Summary: Jisoo didn’t know why he’d ended things and she tried to convince herself she didn’t want to know.  What she wanted to know was if she could ever be happy without him again...
Length: 1.8k + texts
A/N: Listen to this while you read! @blackinkfics This has been a year in the making and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to a point where I felt comfortable enough to post it.  I’m also sorry that this is how far I’ve gotten in all this time, but I hope it lives up to your expectations.  Ily~ #LongLiveJJ
                                                    Jamal POV
Eyes closed and music blaring, Jisoo inhaled deeply. As the crescendoing bass line reverberated through the air and surged through her chest, she willed her heart to pound along steadily with the beat. It was a trick he had taught her during a long forgotten lesson, yet she practiced it religiously through every rehearsal, evaluation, and performance. She wasn't a natural dancer but allowing the syncopated rhythms to flow through and guide her body as she moved allowed her to easily make up for it as she carefully executed each move. Song after song, 8-count after 8-count, Jisoo drilled the choreography until she could barely stand, her body quaking with exhaustion and chest heaving with exertion.
Vaguely, she recognized the warmth spreading through her already torched skin. She slowly registered the size of the fingertips resting against her shoulders; and though she would never let it show, the bitter ache of disappointment pinged through her that the hand was not the large one she had become so accustomed to, but instead much smaller and much more slender. Jisoo glanced up to meet the eyes, widened in concern, of her precious Lisa. "I'm fine, LaLa!" she chirped. She grinned at the younger and reached up to ruffle her sweat slick bangs.
"I don't believe you," Lisa huffed as she flicked the elder's wrist away from her. "You only practice this hard when you're stressed."
"I'm not stressed." Jisoo pushed off the wall and shrugged, swinging her arms across her chest as she began to stretch her aching limbs. "I just want to be as good of a dancer as you."
Lisa pouted, "Don't deflect!"
"I'm telling the truth," Jisoo insisted before she took a swig of her water. That only earned her a look of distrust and discontentment. "Hey! Don't stare at me like that! We both know how many countless hours you grinded through to get to where you are. I want to be that way too."
Lisa sighed. She could only push as far as the other would let her and clearly there wasn't much room left. "Swear on chicken?"
Crossing her heart, the elder affirmed, "And pizza."
"Okay, then I'm going to head home now. You wanna ride together?"
Jisoo shook her head. "Nah, I'm not done here yet. Don't worry, mom, I won't stay here all night." With a roll of her eyes and a dramatic huff, Lisa conceded and left the dance studio, leaving Jisoo back where she started.
Alone. 
Staring ahead at the back of a door, the clear image of the back of the head of someone she loved just having slipped through it. But it wasn't her member's head pressed into the surface of her corneas.  Jisoo turned on her heel to face the mirror, shut her eyes, and exhaled sharply. "Channel it," she commanded herself as she unclenched a fist to turn the music up, once again surrendering herself to the frantic rhythms.  
Her frenzied trance was broken when the music abruptly died. Another steadying hand--closer to the size she had become so accustomed to but still not the hand she knew not to expect--loosely gripped her shoulder. "Time to go home, dear," her manager said sweetly. Dripping in sweat, she wordlessly nodded her head and set about cleaning the studio.
When she was finished, her body was howling with fatigue. Normally she wouldn't have to ask to be helped out, but he wasn't there to carry her. Doing things on her own now--that was her new normal. No one but her was there to pick her exhausted limbs and aching heart up and carry her. She had to do for herself now. "Only the weak," she chided herself quietly as she grabbed her stuff. Her manager lifted a questioning brow, but she simply shook her head in response. Now it was her turn to walk through that door, leaving a little chunk of her broken-hearted burden behind as she went.
The kaleidoscope of brilliant neons pulsating overhead filtered darkly through the tinted windows of the company car as it zoomed along the streets. Jisoo stared listlessly at them, her mind far too exhausted to pay them the standard amount of awe she normally gave them. Vaguely, she could hear the excited chirps of a brighter girl passionately gush over the pretty lights while a smooth, deep, warm chuckle floated through her ears and curled within her stomach. She shook her head and turned away from the window. Someday the flashing green and pink and red and orange lights would bring her the same joy they once did. Someday, she'd coo over them just like that bright girl did all those moons ago. Someday when she could let these minuscule but impactful memories go. "Someday," she whispered softly.
But for now, she was content with letting herself finally pull up his contact information on her phone. She didn't expect an immediate response from him by any means; honestly, she hoped he wouldn't read it for a week or two. Yet she knew she needed him to respond relatively soon so her courage wouldn't fade. Pressing on the picture-less circle next to his name, she tapped out a very cut-and-dry question. "Keep it simple, keep it emotionless," Jennie's sage advice floated through her head and tumbled out of her mouth as she hit 'send.’
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Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the cool glass of the tinted window, letting the vivid blues and violets and fuschias of the low-hanging neon stars wash over her skin as an outward reflection of the clashing emotions warring in her heart.
Even when she finally made it home, there was still no response from him.  She wasn’t hurt, no, she’d vowed that she wouldn’t let herself be hurt by him again.  But yet there was still some part of her that had hoped… It didn’t really matter, she decided internally with a huff.  They were both two adults with very hectic schedules. He’d respond to her when he got a chance; he certainly wasn’t cowardly enough to run from her text messages at least (phone calls and voicemails were an entirely different story). She deposited her phone on her bed and pointedly ignored it as she changed into her pajamas after taking a quick shower that had mercifully washed away the remnants of her grueling dance practice off her.  
Scooping up Dalgom into her arms, she made her way out to the living room to catch up on the dramas she’d missed earlier in the evening.  Chaeyoung, as reliable as ever, was already curled up in the center of the sectional with a heaping pile of snacks laid out on the coffee table before them.  “I didn’t know what you wanted and I couldn’t decide so I brought them all,” she sheepishly admitted, nervously tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear as she blinked owlishly at the elder.
Jisoo couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face.  “My sweet Chaeyoung is far too precious for this world,” she cooed as she plopped down next to the orher girl.  Chaeyoung didn’t even try to hide the self-satisfied smile that slipped onto her lips.  Instead, she offered up a hard-boiled egg she’d already halfway peeled.  Jisoo shifted until Dalgom was nestled comfortably in her lap so she could finish peeling the egg.  The pair snacked in comfortable silence as their attention was held captive by the compelling storylines of the episode.  As the credits for the episode rolled, Jisoo glanced at the younger to see if she was willing to watch the next episode only to find Chaeyoung sound asleep, nestled in her favorite blanket against a pile of pillows.  Jisoo smiled sweetly at her sleeping friend.  “Time to go to bed, Dalgomie,” she whispered to the little ball of fluff curled in her lap.  Carefully, she slowly slithered off the couch and turned off the lights before making her way to her room.
Her phone glowed ominously in the darkness.  An unexpected sense of dread washed over her as gingerly lifted it up.  Dalgom stirred slightly in her arms, turning to rest his head against her chest as if to reassure her that he was always there for her.  Jisoo leaned down to snuggle her beloved pup for a brief moment while she gathered all her confidence to unlock her phone.
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A straightforward, simple answer that was as emotionless as her inquiry.  Honestly, it was somewhat a relief he’d only responded with a single word.  More words meant more time spent overthinking what he meant or how many times he’d attempted to respond to her or how she should respond next or how many times she had to grip and regrip her phone as her fingers trembled a little too much for her liking. “No.” She could work with this.  Quickly, before she could even begin to think of overthinking her answer, she tapped out her response and hit send.  She didn’t even wait to hear the tell-tale swoosh that indicated her message had actually been sent before she locked her phone.
Pulling back the covers, Jisoo crawled into her bed, its familiar softness grasping greedily onto every inch of her tired body was a welcomed distraction from the dinging of her phone.  She rolled over to snatch up her phone after she gently placed Dalgom on his pillow.  “Keep it simple, keep it simple,” she repeated like a sacred mantra as she once more unlocked her phone.  “Singapore?” she questioned to the still night air hanging like a heavy, dark blanket over her room.  Why was he in— “Oh, duh.  Tour,” she mumbled as she left her fingers speak for her to him.  He responded almost immediately, his next message getting straight to the point:
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Well, that was a loaded question.  What she wanted was for Stephen Hawking or whatever extraordinarily brilliant man to build a time machine that would allow to go back in time and stop him from ending things with her.  Or maybe she could spare herself all the trouble and just erase the first time she ever saw him.  Or maybe she wanted to travel back and tell her past self to really cherish every moment she’d spent with him.  Or just, at the very least, fast forward to a time where she was no longer heartbroken over him.  She just wanted to feel something than the empty heaviness that had burrowed itself so deep in her heart, she was quite certain it had become a blackhole in the very center of her being.  But that was a mystery for some physicist to figure out.  In the meantime, she had to figure out how to tell him that she wanted to give him back the few things of his she’d somehow wound up having in her possession without revealing to him that the only reason she wanted to give it all back was so she wouldn’t have physical reminders of the ache in her battered heart.
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Jisoo groaned loudly and flopped down into her pillows.  Dalgom perked up a little as she berated herself, “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Why did she say that? Why? Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk later.  They were broken up.  After she returned his things, that would be the very end of their...everything. Jisoo scrubbed madly at her eyes, willing herself not to cry.  She’d shed enough tears for him.  She would find some way to move on, she resolved as she pulled the covers up to her chin. But for now, she needed to focus on getting some much needed sleep. Maybe when she woke up tomorrow morning, her heart would hurt less...
 —Admin Lily
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junker-town · 4 years
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A Halloween candy draft, because we are a sports website
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Photo by: Jeffrey Greenberg/Universal Images Group via Getty Images
Eight GMs. 24 picks. 1 ultimate candy haul.
Halloween is for everyone. Kids who want to trick-or-treat. Adults who want an excuse to wear costumes outside of Comic-Con. But especially for the candy lovers.
While children trade cuteness for the primary currency of their adolescent world, the childless among us must wait an extra 12 hours to profit. There’s no sweeter day in this world than November 1, where the racks and racks of sugary sweetness at grocery stores across the world become a distressed asset. All Saint’s Day is America’s gift to the gluttons, the beginning of a one week period where, if you play your cards right, you can purchase your body weight in Milky Ways for $15.
But which candy truly reigns supreme? That’s too big a question for just one person.
[Related: 17 last-minute Halloween costumes for sports fans in 2019]
About two weeks ago, a handful of SB Nation staffers threw down the gauntlet on breakfast cereals. A raging debate between honey vs. fruit vs. chocolate eventually exploded into a three-round draft where the world saw James Brady reign supreme with a lineup of Honey Nut Cheerios, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and Reese’s Puffs.
Brady, oat-loving coward that he is, decided to retire with his mantle intact. In his place, eight other SB Nation writers stepped into the void to create their three-candy roster. Now it’s time to dive back into that sugar mine for Halloween season. Here’s how it turned out.
Round 1
1. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups — Whitney Medworth
It’s Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Do I really have to explain it?
David (Fooch) Fucillo: How am I supposed to shit talk peanut butter cups? Who would NOT have this atop their big board?
Tom Ziller: Easiest No. 1 overall pick since Zion. Disks over novelty shapes.
2. Skittles — Matt Ellentuck
Best fruity candy. It’s obvious.
Fooch: Y’all will trash me for candy corn, but as Eric Stephen put it, taste the lame-bow. Skittles are a perfectly fine candy, but who the hell takes it No. 2 overall? I feel like this will turn into the Ryan Leaf of #2 picks. If you had to go with “fruit” candy, Mike & Ikes would have been my preferred choice, but even Starburst feels like a better choice.
James Dator: Skittles are so overrated it’s scary. They’re way too sweet and literally dissolve into sugar crystals.
Ziller: Jabari Parker went No. 2 over Joel Embiid and Skittles went No. 2 over Snickers. Wow.
3. Snickers — Caroline Darney
Look, I didn’t think Reese’s would fall to three, so I’m happy going with Snickers. Snickers is one of the few candy bars that doesn’t loose that...je ne sais quoi...when it’s fun sized, but it’s a grand slam if you get a full sized one of these bad boys in whatever plastic pumpkin/pillow case you’re carrying through the neighborhood. This is a classic, and sure, I’ll build a team around it.
Christian D’Andrea: Regular Snickers aren’t even the best candy in their own brand extension. Crispers. Almond. Peanut butter. ALL SUPERIOR
Ziller: Both a delicious candy and a workout for your jaw muscles. Win-win.
4. 100 Grand — Tom Ziller
100 Grand is a classic candy that is best served in fun size (hence why full-sized bars are split in half). A lot of different textures happening here. A lot of complexity.
D’Andrea: Ziller, in either an act of hubris or just not being on Slack for draft day, missed his picks in the first two rounds and played catchup later. His first pick was a brick of mud dipped in rice. Nestle Crunch and Milky Way were both still available. This was a terrible idea.
5. Kit Kat — Christian D’Andrea
The chocolate is pretty great, especially if you can get your hands on the European version. The wafers don’t taste like anything, they’re just there for wonderful texture and to provide something to break apart with your teeth if you’re a nervous weirdo like me. Bonus points if you can break the candy down to its basic components like a Hershey Park diagram before eating it.
Eric Stephen: Gimme a break!
D’Andrea: God dammit, Eric.
6. Candy corn — David Fucillo
I get dumped on for picking Candy Corn in the first round and you’d think I was the Jets drafting a fullback. Most of y’all will argue I reached in a big way, but it only takes one other person to ruin my Halloween. I don’t eat candy corn outside of October 1 to October 31, but for that one month, it is truly a delight. The only opinion that matters is that of my taste buds, and they demand candy corn every October.
Darney: This pick has big “took a kicker in the first round” energy.
Ellentuck: Candy corn is good and I’m here to stan it actually.
James Dator: Yeah, I thought Fooch was tanking the draft like @boring_as_heck used to ruin NFL mock drafts. I still think he might have. I refuse to believe that in the pantheon of candy any reasonable adult with their faculties would look at a list of confection delights and say “why yes, I would like this honey-flavored wax please.” While the overall abuse of candy corn has gone a little far and is the cool thing to do (like trashing pineapple on pizza) this is still an absolutely garbage pick that would have been a UDFA. This is a worthless, awful, horrible pick that absolutely nobody should applaud Fooch for. I still love you dude, and I’m not mad. I’m not even disappointed. I’m just bewildered.
Ziller: What are we doing here? Is Fooch taking edible vampire fangs in the second round? Is he actually going to pick something like raisins?
7. Twix — Eric Stephen
I was worried that with such a low pick that I would have to draft a lesser treat in the first round, but instead I was fortunate enough to have a Mount Rushmore candy fall into my lap. Twix provides a perfect crunch with the inner biscuit, coated with the best combination of caramel and chocolate in the candy universe. It usually gets dark earlier around Halloween, but houses that give out Twix are beacons of hope.
Darney: I’ll say it. Caramel Twix are trash. TEAM PB TWIX FOR LIFE.
Ziller: Good value pick.
8. Reese’s Pieces — James Dator
Thanks to someone picking Candy Corn in the first round I got a sleeper here. I’m not going to say something ludicrous like “Reece’s Pieces are better than Reece’s Cups,” but the drop off really isn’t that far. This is a No. 1 pick adjacent candy I’m thrilled to get with the 8th pick.
Fooch: I don’t hate Reese’s Pieces, but the peanut butter aspect of them is missing something. They’re the M&M version of the cups, but frankly it just doesn’t go together as well. M&M type candies are best as plain chocolate (down with peanut M&Ms!), and going PB with them, I just am not a fan.
Round 2
1. Starburst — James Dator
I was a little shook at this pick, to be honest. I was sure I was going to be able to go Twix-Reece’s Pieces with my back-to-back selections and walk away knowing I owned these noobs. Good pick by Eric, so I had to pivot.
Starburst was my top fruit candy on the board and paired nicely with my Pieces pickup. Every flavor of Starburst is good. They are the perfect size and have a good tail end for medium-length enjoyability.
D’Andrea: All the flavor of Fruit Stripe gum, only with an added 3 percent chance of pulling out a filling with each lemon piece you bite into.
Ziller: Half the flavors low-key suck. So in the fun-size two-candy edition, you have a decent chance of coming up empty. Decent overall candy, bad Halloween candy.
2. Peanut M&Ms — Eric Stephen
A tried and true classic, M&Ms in the fun-sized bag is the perfect amount. I chose the peanut variety over regular because I love the combo of peanuts and chocolate, and each M is a perfect bite. Though who are we kidding, I’m not putting just one of these in my mouth at a time.
Fooch: Outside of peanut butter, peanuts are just bad. Why ruin a good little piece of chocolate with them? Frankly, any candy with a peanut in it has just been ruined.
Ziller: Fooch’s comment here explains a lot about his draft.
D’Andrea: I think we all came away from this pick more worried about Fooch’s wellbeing than Eric’s actual selection.
3. Nestle Crunch — David Fucillo
I pondered a Hershey’s special dark bar here, but that ricey chocolate mix of the Crunch bar has been a favorite of mine all the way back to a childhood. A Hershey bar is great on its own, but the “crunch” of a Crunch bar is unmatched amongst chocolate bars. Outside of candy corn and Reese’s peanut butter cups, this was #3 on my big board.
Dator: I’m supposed to shit talk you, but I’m subverting our structure just to tell you that I’m proud you made a good choice here.
4. Crispy M&Ms— Christian D’Andrea
By far the superior breed of M&M. I don’t know why they don’t sell these in five gallon drums.
Ziller: M&Ms aren’t great, but at least they are versatile (add them to cookies, popcorn, ice cream sundae). You can’t really do that with Crispy M&Ms.
5. Hershey’s Special Dark — Tom Ziller
This was a panic pick after missing the live draft, but to justify it: these always go first in that variety bag with Hershey’s, Mr. Goodbar, and Krackel, right? There’s a reason: dark chocolate is delicious. Even Hershey’s dark chocolate.
D’Andrea: Were baking morsels unavailable? There’s a certain brand of old man strength here, picking a chocolate bar that also sounds like a six dollar bottle of rum.
6. Tootsie Roll Pops — Caroline Darney
There’s going to be some sass on this pick, but 1. don’t tell me you don’t still search to see if you got a wrapper with the star on it and 2. any song related to these slaps. Don’t @ me.
D’Andrea: The taste of going to the doctor to get shots as a child, wrapped around the 20-year-old sweets eternally stuck to the bottom of your grandmother’s candy jar. Truly a winning combination.
Dator: Take a trash candy and put a stick in it so it’s even less enjoyable. Sounds like a winning combo.
Ziller: I haven’t eaten one of these in 25 years and I can still taste the cotton swab that stays stuck to the Tootsie Roll in the middle. Bleh.
7. Mike & Ike — Matt Ellentuck
Second-best fruity candy. It’s obvious.
D’Andrea: The perfect “my stepdad let me buy candy at the Dollar Tree” selection.
Ziller: Hot Tamales without any flavor. What’s not to like?
8. Butterfinger— Whitney Medworth
I can’t believe Butterfingers were still available at this point in the draft. There is nothing better than a fun size butterfinger in your trick or treat bag. Crispety, Crunchety, peanut-buttery chocolate bar perfection.
Stephen: Butterfinger has a rich history as one of Earth’s greatest candy bars, but since the flavor change last year it tastes like rancid cockroaches.
Ziller: I got so mad I left Butterfinger on the table. First-round talent. This is why sports teams “prepare” and “do research” and “make big boards.”
D’Andrea: Butterfinger is great. Especially the way it adheres to every crevice in your teeth so you keep tasting it for hours afterward.
Round 3
1. Wild Berry Skittles— Whitney Medworth
First off, my prior two picks were Reese’s Cups and Butterfinger so this pick is to round out my team and add that extra kick of flavor necessary. The combo is too strong: Berry punch, Strawberry, Melon berry, Wild cherry, and Raspberry. No weak links. No green. No yellow. Just good.
D’Andrea: Congratulations on selecting the fifth-best version of Skittles. Each one is a tiny trip to Smoothie King, only without the smug satisfaction of babysitting a 40oz jug of “vitamins” the rest of the day.
2. Cookies and Cream Hershey’s — Matt Ellentuck
Regular chocolate is basic as hell, but the cookies and cream version is not basic as hell. It’s actually the perfect complement to fruity candies like umm... Skittles. Or Mike & Ikes.
Ziller: “Want a cookie? Too bad, here’s a piece of chocolate with fake cookie inside it.”
3. Nerds — Caroline Darney
Nerds are the perfect Halloween candy because it’s not one that you’d really ever buy for yourself. October 31 is like the only night you accumulate these little crunchy nubs of sugar, and eating them straight out of the tiny little box is truly one of life’s delights.
Ziller: Pop Rocks without fizz. Why not just drink corn syrup straight from the bottle?
4. Whoppers — Tom Ziller
Obviously, based on my draft, I like chocolate and chewy candy. Whoppers hits both marks! Also, my daughters hate them so this is free money for me on Halloween. I’ll be rich in Whoppers on Friday and I can’t wait.
D’Andrea: I can’t say anything bad about a candy they package in old milk cartons. Whoppers are ...fine. Better than 80 percent of the selections available? Nope.
5. Sour Patch Kids — Christian D’Andrea
Because some days my tongue can just go to hell. Midnight Milky Way and Baby Ruth were strongly under consideration here, but a strict sugary diet of only chocolate would be a wasted opportunity. Throw about 20 of these little guys into a cup, microwave it for about 10 seconds, and then to go work on the softened mess moments later. And then ignore the filmy coating of corn syrup that lasts on your teeth for days afterward.
Ziller: Make a meal of it with Cap’n Crunch and just completely destroy your mouth for a week. Sadist candy.
6. Sun Maid raisins — David Fucillo
Halloween may be about indulging, but why not have a sugary treat that offers excellent fiber?! I was that kid who loved a box of raisins and am perfectly comfortable with it. There was no way any of these heathens was taking raisins, and since we did not have a UDFA option, it made sense to ride it to the last round of the draft. It gives me a well-rounded Halloween bag of waxy, chocolate, and fruity — the perfect Halloween for me!
D’Andrea: I swear to god this pick was emailed to me in all caps from [email protected]. Which one of your grandchildren showed you how to use the internet, Fooch?
Dator: I take it back. I hate you so much, Fooch.
Ziller: Unbelievable. So like Werther’s Originals and peppermint candies were a little too adventurous for you? Love to eat a box full of the worst part of basic trail mix.
7. Krackel — Eric Stephen
Halloween is Krackel’s time to shine, since it’s just about the only time you can find the crispy deliciousness in regular stores. Don’t listen to the heathens: Krackel is wonderful, a Nestle Crunch with even more crunch. Krackel is the highlight of those Hershey variety packs.
D’Andrea: Exactly like Nestle Crunch, only worse! I’ve never seen this bar in non-mini form.
Ziller: Almost always the last chocolate candy remaining in any modern Halloween basket. It’s the mid-November desperation chocolate when all the good stuff is gone.
8. Baby Ruth — James Dator
I will get down on some Baby Ruth. You know what a Baby Ruth is? A Snickers for an adult. Instead of some pressed peanut sweepings you get whole-ass peanuts and its makeup is essentially identical. If someone says “I like Snickers, but I hate Baby Ruth” they’re either pedantic, a liar or a sleeper agent.
Also its wrapper is silver and I like shiny things because I am actually a bird.
Darney: It’s no surprise the candy bar that is used as a euphemism for a turd went last in the draft. Good pick, James.
Ziller: Good pick, though inferior to its close, more exotic cousin Almond Joy, which I can’t believe I didn’t pick in retrospect.
The final results?
So who had the best draft? Vote below so we can mercilessly mock the loser, who will almost certainly be Fooch.
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toldnews-blog · 5 years
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New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/technology/entertainment/avengers-endgame-review-the-real-heroes-were-the-friends-we-made-along-the-way/
‘Avengers: Endgame’ Review: The Real Heroes Were the Friends We Made Along the Way
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“No amount of money ever bought a second of time,” one character says to another — I’m afraid I can’t be any more specific than that — somewhere around the middle of “Avengers: Endgame.” So true, so true, and also in context so completely not true. The intersecting axes of time and money are what this franchise is all about, and while I’m not an expert in studio math, I’d guess that a second of the movie, based on what Disney and Marvel Studios paid to make it, would buy a decent used car.
There are roughly 10,860 of those — seconds, not cars — nestled in between the quiet, spooky opening and the last bit of end credits. Which means that whatever a ticket costs in your neighborhood, “Avengers: Endgame” might count as a bargain. At three hours and one minute, it’s shorter than “Titanic,” “The Godfather Part II” or Luchino Visconti’s “The Leopard.” And while the time doesn’t exactly fly, it doesn’t drag either. The two hours and forty minutes of “Infinity War” (also directed by Joe and Anthony Russo) felt infinitely longer. Settling scores, wrapping up loose ends and taking a victory lap — the main objects of the game this ostensibly last time around — generate some comic sparks as well as a few honest tears.
And why not? We’ve lived with these characters and the actors playing them for more than a decade, and even when the party got hectic, stupid or crowded, there was no reason to complain about the guests. For the most part, it’s nice to see them again, and a little sad to say goodbye.
[How the original “Avengers” came together.]
Chris Hemsworth’s Thor, always kind of neurotic for a buff deity with a mighty hammer, has let himself go, turning into a fat Lebowski with mommy issues. War Machine (Don Cheadle), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) have more to do than previously. (I wish that were also true of Tessa Thompson’s Valkyrie.) The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) has made peace with his essential duality. Robert Downey Jr., looking handsomely grizzled, exercises his seniority with a light touch. He’s been around the longest — the first “Iron Man” was in 2008 — and combines the duties of unofficial chief superhero with those of master of ceremonies.
It’s not all fun and games. A lot of heroes died at the end of “Infinity War,” and their loss weighs heavily on the survivors, perhaps especially on Nebula (Karen Gillan), whose father was responsible for the slaughter. Thanos’s deployment of the six Infinity Stones to wipe out half the life in the universe was unforgivable, of course — I can’t believe I just typed that — but it proves to have been helpful to the Russos, the screenwriters (Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely) and the audience. We and they have a manageable dozen or so major characters to keep track of, which leaves room for some of the alternately lump-in-throat, tongue-in-cheek ensemble work that has always been the series’s most potent weapon.
“The Avengers” cycle may require an escalating series of battles to save the universe from ultimate evil — each manifestation more ultimate than the last, with Thanos (Josh Brolin) as the ultimate ultimate of them all — but the engine that keeps it running is friendship. This isn’t the same as harmony. Going back to the earlier movies, Hulk and Thor have had their moments of friction, as have Iron Man and Captain America (Chris Evans).
The personal and political bad blood between those two, most acute in “Captain America: Civil War,” continues to simmer, at least at first. But the mood over all is tender and comradely, touched by acute grief and the more subtle melancholy of what everyone seems to understand is the Last Big Adventure. About that adventure, I won’t say much, though it strikes me that the shape of the plot is less vulnerable to spoilage than the little winks and local surprises along the way.
[Everything you need to know before “Endgame,” in two minutes]
Those are the rewards for sitting through all those movies patiently waiting for the post-credit stingers, collecting Easter eggs while your friends were texting or your dad was napping and generally doing the unpaid labor of fandom for all these years. Was it worth it? In the aggregate, I have my doubts, but the chuckles and awws you’ll hear around you in the theater at certain moments attest to the happy sense of participation that lies at the heart of the modern fan experience. At its best — and “Endgame” is in some ways as good as it gets — the “Avengers” cosmos has been an expansive and inclusive place.
That has proved to be good business. Disney and Marvel’s accomplishment will be duly inscribed in the annals of commerce, to be studied for many years to come. There has been variety — silly movies and somber ones; chapters that proclaim their topicality and episodes that embrace pure escapism — as well as consistency. Any single film can serve as a point of entry, and insider status is easy enough to obtain. There has never been anything difficult or challenging, which is a limitation as well as a selling point.
None of the 22 films in this cycle are likely to be remembered as great works of cinema, because none have really tried. It’s fun to see the actors in these roles we know are capable of better, and also satisfying to appreciate the efforts of those who might not be. Some first-rate directors have taken up the banner and burnished the brand. Their past and future masterpieces will most likely be found elsewhere.
Still, “Endgame” is a monument to adequacy, a fitting capstone to an enterprise that figured out how to be good enough for enough people enough of the time. Not that it’s really over, of course: Disney and Marvel are still working out new wrinkles in the time-money continuum. But the Russos do provide the sense of an ending, a chance to appreciate what has been done before the timelines reset and we all get back to work. The story, which involves time travel, allows for some greatest-hits nostalgic flourishes, and the denouement is like the encore at the big concert when all the musicians come out and link arms and sing something like “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” You didn’t think it would get to you, but it does.
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anodyne-sunflower · 7 years
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Can I request a Daddy!Stephen fic with Thigh riding, and eating out? Perhaps even bondage? Thank you!
Alright, this contains a combination of many people’s requests, since y'all are horny as shit….I don’t even know how many requests this combined but whatever lol Shameless smut ahead.
Master list
*****
“You know, it would really help if you listened to me just once! I didn’t waste my time bringing you back from the brink of death just to-”
Stephen leaned back in his chair, eyeing you with an amused smirk on his face. He took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke and chuckling as you scowled deeply at him. The war was still going on, and the more it dragged the more he found parts of himself disappearing and dying along with his men. All that he had left was you, a vision of the past that kept him going on those long sleepless nights. He had met you at the very beginning of all this, the very first time he lost a soldier you were there. A young nurse that tries to heal the fallen only to watch them die in your arms instead. You two had found comfort in each other, sometimes talking, sometimes laughing, and other times…other times in each other’s arms.
“Stop talking.”
Stephen crunched the end of his cigarette into the ashtray, tired eyes staring at the burnt end blow out slowly. He could hear you sigh in the background, his current state of mind blocking you out from his thoughts. He adored your company, truthfully he enjoyed it. But, sometimes the very noise you made grated on his nerves, making him anxious and angry that all he wanted was for you to stay silent.
“Stephen…”
Your tone was quieter, yet it still held a semblance of order in it. Stephen was slowly slipping away day by day, and it took everything you had to keep him here, in reality with you.
“Listen to me-”
The soldier scoffed, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as he shuffled his deck of cards. He paid you no mind anymore, instead he kept his eyes straight on the deck, his finger slipping over the slick edge of the card he grabbed and flipped over.
“Ace of hearts…” He spoke aloud, tapping the symbols on the card as he looked up at you. “How fortunate.”
Your brow furrowed, concern for the lieutenant growing as he continued to tell a fortune that made no sense. “Stephen, please…”
The soldier stopped his antics, face stern and eyes bloodshot as he stared up at you. “I thought I said stop talking…”
You slowly inched forward, hand coming to brush against his cheek, the stubble scratching roughly against your palm. You caressed his cheekbone with your thumb, offering him a sad smile, anything to bring him back from that war inside his head.
“You need rest, Stephen.”
His eyes were beautiful to you, a soft green that reminded you of your home back in France. But, now, now they seemed so far gone.
Stephen sniffed quietly, gritting his teeth as the pent up rage and grief began to boil inside him. He screamed out, throwing the cards on the floor and slamming his hands on the table.
“I said stop talking!”
“No!”
You pushed his shoulder, gently bringing him back to your world as you felt your own frustrations rising. Stephen sighed heavily, holding his head in his hands and trying to remain calm.
“Breathe.”
Your hand rubbed his back lovingly, lips kissing the corner of his brow as you took a seat in his lap. Stephen looked up, his eyes watering with tears but he wiped them away and pulled you closer to him.
“Forgive me.”
He held you for a while, ear pressed against your chest and listening to the calming sound of your heartbeat. He needed you, always, and nothing would tear you apart, he’d be sure of that. He wasn’t going to lose another person.
Stephen shifted, his head craning to gaze up at you. “I need you…”
His words made your heart flutter, and you blushed softly at his confession. He was always a forward man, never wasting anytime when it came to such intimate subjects, but no matter how many times he told you such things it always managed to make your insides stir in desire.
You hesitantly leaned down, stopping just before your lips touched. The electricity between your bodies was evident, and Stephen brushed his fingers down your dress, gripping the strings of your smock in his hand and pulling. They became undone, your smock slipping off your waist and to the floor, your dress beneath was dirty, riddled with dirt and god knows what else, yet he didn’t care. It just reminded him how much he needed you right now.
“Will you come with me? Back to England…when this is all over?”
Stephen spoke as he trailed his fingertips down your jawline, tickling across your throat and down to your collarbone. He leaned forward, kissing the tip of it, enjoying the way you sighed at his touch. He awaited your answer, not very invested in it, but still just wanting to hear the soothing sound of your voice. His lips slid across your shoulder, shoving the sleeves of your dress roughly down. He gave you an experimental nip, his cock twitching under his uniform when you cried out in pleasure.
“Y-Yes…yes, I will.”
One of your hands gripped his shoulder, the other tangling in his blond locks and pushing his hat off. He growled deep in his throat, his hands shoving your legs apart and pushing his thigh up hard. He delighted in the way you arched up, hips rolling down and begging him to continue. He began a soft rhythm with his leg, letting you ride his thigh until you were soaking beneath your panties. The lieutenant could feel the heat of your cunt, his length aching behind the confines of his pants as it desired to be inside of you. But, he could wait for that moment, for he had all night. He couldn’t sleep anyway, he might as well spend it pleasuring the only woman he grew to love.
He grasped your hips, shoving you down harder on his leg and whispering in your ear.
“You need to say it…say it for me…”
Deep in your mind you processed his words, and somewhere between all the foggy mess of pleasure and need you found your words.
“Daddy…S-Stephen…” You panted out his name, thighs quivering in bliss as you felt your orgasm approaching. The soldier let you cum, his tongue flicking across his lips as he watched your face contort in pleasure. You moaned out his name, head thrown back as waves of ecstasy ran down your body.
Stephen kissed your neck, licking across your throat and sucking down on your pulse as he lifted you up. He placed you on the small table in his tent, pulling back for a second to rip apart the buttons of your dress and expose your bare chest to him. He stared down at you, his eyes darkening when he watched your chest heave up and down.
“Beautiful…”
He grabbed his glass of whiskey, taking a huge swig of it. He never once took his eyes off you, his mind already conjuring up the many ways he was going to fuck you senseless tonight. But, for now, he could have fun. He wiped his arm across his mouth, breathing heavily as he tilted the glass over, watching intently as the drops of whiskey streamed down your neck and chest. He threw the glass off to the side, dipping his head down to eagerly lap and suck at your breasts where the alcohol had collected. You squirmed beneath him, moaning and whining for him to simultaneously stop and continue this torture. But, he didn’t listen, he kept licking a trail down your taut stomach, licking up the whiskey that pooled around your belly button.
He rested his forehead against your abdomen, trying to control the animalistic desires he felt. But, with you moaning his name like that it was growing harder and harder to stop himself.
“Tell me what you want.”
You glanced down at him, combing your fingers through his hair in a comforting manner.
“You know what I want, Daddy…what you want.”
He closed his eyes, collecting his mangled thoughts before he shook his head and kneeled down. He pushed your legs apart, not wasting anytime as he shoved his face between your wet folds. He immediately grunted into you, the very taste of your juices making him want to shove himself inside you. Stephen drew his tongue up your sex, eyes set on your face as he sucked your clit into his mouth. He shook his head, stimulating your swollen need with the vibrations.
“Stephen!”
You reached for his shoulders, wanting something to hold onto but he just grabbed your wrists, pushing your hands to the side and holding them there. He didn’t need you interfering, even if you were wildly sensitive and almost cried in utter delight at the pleasure he was giving you.
He only ever pulled away when he needed to breath, but he continued to hungrily eat you out. The lieutenant lapped up and down, kissing and nipping around your inner thighs every chance he got. He left love bites behind, marking his woman, so if he wasn’t to survive this war, something of him would be left behind. Even if it was just evidence of a passionate affair.
For what felt like the fifth time that night, you whimpered out a strangled version of his name. Your eyes were screwed shut, hair a mess on your head as you clawed into the wood of the table. He pulled away from your clit with a soft pop of his lips, watching as your sex twitched form your blissful high. He rose to his feet, boots thumping loudly into the ground as he shuffled around. He pulled his belt off, wrapping it around your wrists and flipping you over on the table so your backside was rising and exposed to him. He sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, lubricating them with his spit before bringing them down and pushing them inside your slick entrance. You were already so wet it was almost unnecessary, but the feeling of his fingers scissoring inside you was a welcomed pleasure.
“Daddy…daddy, please. I need you.”
Stephen took a breath, bringing his hand quickly down, smacking your ass and watching as a red, angry looking mark formed. He removed his fingers from inside you, settling himself at your entrance. He stroked himself a few times, closing his eyes as the endorphins began to build inside him. He nestled himself between your spread legs, pushing into you at a leisurely pace.
“Bloody-” He groaned out, one hand grabbing your bound wrists and the other resting against the smooth surface of the table. He tugged you back by the belt, shoving himself deep inside you and making you cry out in pleasure.
“Daddy!”
“Lieutenant…” Stephen growled out, wanting you to refer to him by his proper title. Which you so willingly did. His pace quickened with every word that left your pretty lips, hips working overtime as he tried to reach that point of high that made everything seem to fade.
Your body shivered under him, your mind a complete mess of heaven and hell as he fucked you. The sound of other soldiers walking passed his tent caught your ears, and something about that only ignited the fuel inside you. His cock rubbed against your sweet spot, making your head snap back as he continued to hit that perfect part of you.
“Lieutenant Wraysford!”
Stephen grunted loudly, hips now snapping forward, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the tent. He was close, and he waited until you were screaming out his name to finally let go and fill every single part of you.
Warmth spread between your legs, and you moaned out pathetically as his cock slipped from between you. Stephen fell forward, resting himself against your back that was slick with sweat.
“Don’t ever leave me…”
He whispered out, nuzzling into your neck for comfort. You tried catching your breath, angling your head back a bit to kiss his cheek.
“I never will, Stephen.”
*****
I hope you all enjoyed it!!! ❤️ I didn’t proofread because fuck that…
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