#truly this pitch got picked and I was like 'literally all of my favorite fucking things. god bless.'

[essektheylyss]

I presume that if you follow me you probably like D&D-esque storytelling, amoral mages, and also treason, and if so you are in luck!

I wrote probably the most on brand piece for a very cool publication called Ballads of the Distant Reaches, in which all of the stories take place in (and build the lore of) the same fantasy world. Mine is the story of a former magical arms dealer turned priest of chaos on trial for treason following a siege of the capital by his former collaborator. (Like I said, very on brand.) I got to write some absolute bastards in some absolute shit situations, and also a very fun description of a realm of chaos. Check it out!

#I do in fact only know how to self-promote in [tacky middle school PSA voice] I'm so sorry #this is the last one for the time being lol. reminders for myself that I need to like. submit things again. and also WRITE #I do not in fact know ever when things are getting published. what is time. #genuinely loved pitching and writing this. @ the universe pls let me write more things on pitch. #truly this pitch got picked and I was like 'literally all of my favorite fucking things. god bless.' #advice for pitching stuff: only send pitches that you actually want to write. that seems obvious but like. #it's real easy to go 'what does this publication want' and that should ALSO be a consideration but #three rules of pitches: what does the publication want? what are you excited to write? what gaps can you identify that you can fill? #anyway as always I will stop chatting in the tags about business things again #i can't help it i'm a capricorn 😔

[g0ldengubler]

locked desires ~ g.w.

Requests: open/CLOSED

Request: YES/no

A/N: i hope you enjoy! this was a fun concept to work on after not writing any for awhile. the writing might not be as good as I would’ve liked it, but i still hope you enjoy :)

Category: smut(NSFW18+ MDNI)

CW: daddy kink, praise kink, fingering, unprotected sex

WC: 1543

masterlist

"Give it back, Y/N!" said George, trying to grab his journal out of your hands but you wouldn't budge. You went into his dorm after class like usual to find that all was left was a note telling you that he would be back soon. You had found his opened journal to see that he was writing about you, more so what he wanted to do to you and you to him. He walked in on you holding it in your hands while laying in his bed, grinning devilishly.

You continued to play your little game, fighting George off on top of you while trying to keep the page you were on with your finger in the book. You giggled at how your giant of a boyfriend was failing, a little mean but you were being playful. "Don't make me tickle you!" He threatened.

You knew he got you there, you hated tickling. But you felt a bit bratty, which was something he had in his journal. You put your forehead against his, slowly grinding against him and whispered, "Make me."

"Oh, you're going to regret that." George grabs the book out of your hand and throws it across the room, not caring where it landed. He cups your face and meets his lips with yours, his tongue forcing his way in. You feel a hand sneak under your shirt and play with your tits, softly rubbing your nipple in between his index finger and thumb while sucking on your neck.

You let out a whimper at the contact, which made you feel a chuckle vibrate against your skin, a grin forming. George slowly moved his hand off-making you whine at the loss of contact-and found its way under your skirt and in your panties, rubbing small circles on your clit. You let out a soft moan, wanting more. He understood and slowly slid two fingers inside you, making you moan louder as he thrusted them in and out of your heat. Thankfully, you put the muffliato charm on his dorm awhile ago.

"You're practically soaked, little one." He said.

"Fuck don't stop daddy, it feels so good!" You moaned out.

George's eyes winded, the realization that you really read his journal hitting him. But he didn't show any signs of nervousness or embarrassment, he wanted this. He was waiting for this.

"Yeah? You like when daddy fingers your tight cunt like this?"

You nodded profusely, never breaking your eyes from his deep brown ones. "Use your words."

"Yes daddy, I l-love it-fuck!" You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the knot in your stomach tightening as your clenched around his fingers. You thought you were going to be in for a treat, as one of the things he said he wanted to do was overstimulate you.

But he stopped suddenly, pulling his fingers out of you. The look on his face went from lust to rosy cheeks slowly, making you concerned as his eyes looked down to his coated fingers.

"Hey, what's wrong bubs?" You asked.

"I-I dunno," he said, not making eye contact, "the embarrassment is hitting me, I guess."

You sat yourself up, using your left elbow for support as your right hand cupped the side of his face. You gently moved his head to look up to you and you smiled when you saw his eyes meet yours. "We don't have to do this if you feel uncomfortable, Georgie," You began, "I am truly sorry I looked into your journal. I invaded your personal space and that wasn't ok. You don't have to be embarrassed, though! The amount that I read is the reason why I'm so wet right now. I'd be thinking about it all night even if we didn't do anything."

George gave you a little smile just enough to show that he didn't feel as embarrassed as he did. "This is why I love you, Y/N," he said, "I do want this. I've been daydreaming about this all night every night for the past couple of months. I just didn't want to push you into something you weren't comfortable with."

"You're literally the sweetest guy I've met," you smiled, "But that's why we have conversations like this. That's important."

He got off on top of you and lay next to you, rubbing lightly on your arm with his clean hand. You took his other hand and put his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around slowly as you tasted yourself. When you took them out with a pop sound, you thought he almost lost it.

"So, how much did you read?" He asked curiously.

A cheeky grin appeared on your face. "What other ideas do you have in that brain of yours, Weasley?"

With a cheeky grin of his own, George got off, stood at the foot of the bed and started stripping. As each piece of clothing came off, your eyes couldn't dart away even if you wanted to. His body was immaculate, and your favorite part was his v-line. He stripped off his pants and boxers, his cock springing free and hitting his stomach lightly.

"Like the view?" He asked as he stroked his cock.

You bit your lip as your legs closed and rubbed together, trying to get some sort of friction.

"Don't close your legs, darling," His voice was low and dark, "I want you to take your panties off and rub your clit for me. I want you to beg for my cock, and until you do, you're going to have to just watch."

You didn't hesitate. You did as you were told, rubbing your clit and letting out little mules and whines. The sight of him getting off was so hot to you-seeing the mix of pleasure and the torture on his face making you drip. Picking up the pace, you let out loud moans. You couldn't take your own teasing. You wanted him. Needed him.

"Oh please daddy, please fuck me. I need your cock inside me so baaaad-fuck I'm aching for you, daddy please please please I want to cum all over your cock!"

He pounced on top of you and started moving the head of his cock against your slit, teasing you before pushing himself deep inside you. You both let out moans and groans as you adjusted. George then slowly moves in and out before picking up the pace. You bit your lip as you wanted to take everything in, but he didn't like that.

"C'mon, be a good girl and let daddy hear those pretty noises of yours." He said before taking his cock fully out and slamming back into you, causing you to let out a high pitch moan.

George hid his face against the crook of your neck, feeling the vibrations of his groans on your neck as he left open mouth kisses. "Godric, you're so tight. You make me feel so good." He whispered in your ear.

"Feels so good, daddy...S-so big!" You moaned.

"You like being stretched out like this? Like when daddy's all the way deep inside you like this?"

You clenched around his cock, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter again. "You wanna cum for me, little one? Wanna make a mess over daddy's cock?"

"Yesyesyes please daddy let me cum! I'm so c-close. Don't stop don't stop don't stop!" Your nails were digging into his back, dragging them down and leaving marks. He hissed at the pain out of pleasure, chuckling breathlessly against your skin as you felt him twitch inside you.

George placed his hand on top of yours, interlocking your fingers together. "Fuck I'm close, too. You ready for my cum? You wanna cum with me?"

"Please daddy, fill me up with your cum. Please cum with me...ooooh fuck iwannacumiwannacumiwannacuuuummm!"

"Cum," he growled, "cum with daddy. Let g-goooo fuuuuuckk!"

"i'mcummingi'mcummingi'mcummingggg!"

The knot in your stomach broke, spilling curse word after course word from your lips as you felt your walls being coated in his warmth. George bit your shoulder as he rode out both your highs. He stayed inside for a few moments before slowly pulling out, watching it pour out of you and onto his bed.

"That's so hot." He finally said.

You let out a weak chuckle. "We should've thought about a towel." You joked, making him giggle a little bit.

George got off the bed and went into his bathroom, grabbing a wet wash cloth to clean you up. When he was finished, he lay beside you, wrapping his arm around you and letting your wrap yours around his waist. You snuggled your head into his chest, the feeling of his comfort taking over you.

"You did so good, bubs." He said, kissing the top of your head as you felt the tips of his fingers softly moving against your arm.

"I never thought of you as one with a daddy kink, but it is really hot." you said softly, already feeling yourself drifting in and out.

"Oh, I was going easy on you there. There's more that I want to show you."

"Well, I'll be ready for when that time comes. But right now I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open."

"What, no round two?"

"I love you, Weasley." You said, rolling your eyes at him as your eyes closed.

"Love you, too, Y/L/N."

#george weasley #george weasley smut #Harry Potter #hp #hogwarts

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson x Reader)

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Be added to series taglist

A/N: I have finally graduated!! now I have time so I can work on this until its finished, and trust me, it won't take too long, I'll release the other chapters on a faster, more regular basis since I don't have much else to do, and cause I've had the plan and ideas for the rest of this story for so long. I thank you for your patience with me and I hope y'all love it!! And as always Ash is my savior and I love her @imagines-r-s

change in POV is signalized by:

Y/N= regular ELIAS= italics

(any other info is on the masterlist)

Warnings: cursing, Mentions of Psych, baby & baby talk, loving of dogs, goalie being essentially psychic

Words: 3.3k

Summary: some reflecting on prior events happens.

Well, it has been quite the day for you. You never would have thought anything like this could have happened. “Freaking out” isn’t strong enough to describe your current state. You need to talk to someone, god you’re so happy right now. So you call Quinn.

“Hey, Quinny!”

“Sup Y/N/N?” he answers

“I’m picking up from work, and I'm about to head home, where you will be there too, with a bottle of our favorite wine and some take-out.”

“Got it, something important happened?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” you still couldn't stop smiling.

“Ok how important, expensive wine or REALLY expensive wine?”

“Uhhh in between,” you decided.

“Ahhh ok, can't wait. See you there, bye!!”

“Bye, Huggy”

You finish packing up and text Brock to tell him that you and Quinn are having a wine night, to make sure he knows to be somewhere else.

As you’re walking out, you call Holly.

“Hey, Babe!”

“Howdy!”

“God I always forget you interned in Dallas,” she says laughing.

“You pick that shit up quickly, I’m telling you. even the Fins were saying 'y'all'"

“So what’s up?” She asks.

“Are you free tonight, cause I have some very big news so it’s a wine night.”

“Umm, let me see if Bo wants to have the guys over and watch Gunnar” you hear her call her husband and ask him. “He said sure!”

“Okie Dokie! Text Quinn that you’re coming too, so he knows to get your usual from the take-out place” you tell her.

“Will do, and Y/N/N?" she says before you hang up.

“Yep?”

“Do you want me to grab ice cream?” She asks, already knowing your answer.

“Of course!”

“Ok, see you there” she hangs up.

You drive home jamming out to your music, as everyone should. You still can’t believe what happened today. It feels like it happened last week but it also feels like you never left that break room. Hopefully, Elias won’t mind that you’re telling Quinn and Holly. As long as you tell them not to say anything to the other guys, all should be well.

Once you get home, the dogs greet you at the door, “Oh hi! Hi sweeties! Oh yes, yes hi Coolieee, oh you’re such a cutie,” you drop your bags and get down on your knees to get on their level. When you get on your knees, Milo knows it means you want him to hug you, so he hops up and puts his paws on your shoulders. “Hi, hi, hi, oh thank you for the hugs. Oh yes auntie loves you soooooo much mmwwaaa”

Quinn is there and has everything set up and ready to go, so you change into your sweats and grab your blanket, and sit next to Quinn on the couch, grabbing your glass of wine and food before you sit down. Now you just have to wait for Holly

“Sooo, what’s the news?” Quinn asks you.

“Holly isn’t here yet, we have to wait.”

”Oh so it’s that good?” He raises his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” You question, taking a sip of your wine.

“Well, when the news isn’t that important you usually don’t care if she hears it after me, or I hear it after her. But when it’s super important news, you have the other one wait.”

“Hmm, well then yeah. It’s pretty fuckin’ great, I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling for like 5 hours.”

Just then Holly comes in the door with Gus under one arm and a grocery bag full of ice cream in her other hand, “hi puppies, yes I have your friend with me”

“Oh! Hi Burton!!” You say with your puppy voice.

“Ok, why do you call him Burton? I never understood that.”

“It’s from one of my favorite shows!” You exclaim

“Y/N/N I don’t know if you know this but you, your brother, and Quinn all have like 50 “favorite TV shows” I’m gonna need you to say more than that,” she says to you as she grabs her food from the counter, and heads to the couch. She sits on the side of you not occupied by Quinn.

“Ok, rude,” Quinn sassed.

“It’s from Psych. One of the main characters is called Gus, but his first name is Burton, and the police chief and one of the detectives calls him by his full name which is Burton Guster, so there.”

“Got it.”

“Ok, Holly no more distractions,” Quinn starts, sticking his tongue out at her, she returns the gesture. “So what’s the important news?”

“Oh, you didn’t tell him yet! So it’s really important!” she says.

“Hmm, I guess I do do that,” you realize, “I would actually like you guys to guess” you take a bite of your food, smugly. Knowing neither of them would even have an idea of what to guess.

“Hmmm,” Quinn hums, he looks like he has a mischievous grin “does it have to do with a certain Swede?”

“Wha-“ you choke on your bite of food, Quinn is giggling at your reaction, “the fuck? How’d you know that?”

“Well umm, a certain brother of yours may have asked me if he should do that plan.”

“Why would you do that?’ you whined, upset at your friends for teaming up on you. You couldn’t imagine what you would’ve done if that plan didn’t work out the way it did today.

“Did it work?” He asked with a grin.

“That’s not the point, asshole!”

“See but it worked! He doesn’t hate you anymore, now you can flirt your ass off and make him see you as more than a friend” he tells you.

You laugh, he has no idea what happened in that break room.

“Ok, I’m out of the loop here, what happened?” Holly interjects

“Ok, well my idiot brother and apparently my asshole best friend came up with this plan-“

“Actually Marky and Thatch knew about it too,” he stops you from interrupting, “AND, to be fair, you can’t blame Brock for going to us. I mean I’m your best friend, and the goalies are just good at planning and doing crazy things”

“WELL. Those dicks that I call my closest friends and family, decided it was a good idea to lock me in one of the Canucks break rooms with Elias fucking Pettersson because he hated me and they wanted us to get along”

Holly starts laughing, “oh my god, they did not” she continues to laugh and Quinn joins her. You roll your eyes at them both.

“Yes, they did. I was not a happy camper. But it worked out and he doesn’t hate me.”

“See, I knew it would work! And like I said, now you can work your moves and get him to like you as more than just a friend.” He grins again.

You grin “Oh, also that’s the other part.” You take a long sip of your wine, both Holly and Quinn stared at you wide-eyed, waiting for you to finish, “turns out he’s a great kisser”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said softly, he took a breath “WHAT?”

“Yeah, would you like more details?”

“Fucking- yeah,” they said simultaneously.

You went on to explain the events that happened in that incredible breakroom

“How the fuck did he keep that a secret, and why?” Quinn exclaimed, clearly confused that he didn't know something so big about who he considers one of his best friends.

“I don't know, but both of you have to absolutely promise me that you won't tell literally anyone else, ok? Not Bo, not Brock, not Demer, Stech, Marky, nobody!”

“Yeah, yeah that's fine,” Holly said, waving her hand in dismissal, wanting to get past that and know more. “So how do you feel?”

“Like the luckiest girl in the world,” you said while giggling with a big smile.

“Y/N/N. I’m so happy for you.” Quinn says with a genuine smile.”

“Ok, enough about me. How were your days?”

“Not as interesting as yours, but Gunnar and I spent the whole day out and about with Bo, and now I’m having a great wine night with you guys so it’s been a pretty amazing day.”

“Yeah, well I spent the whole day waiting for Y/N to come to kill me cause I thought she’d find out I had something to do with that whole situation,” Quinn says.

“Well let me just tell you, Hughes, if it hadn’t ended up the way it did, I may have had a few words for you.”

“I know, that’s why I was panicking the whole day”

“OH MY GOD” Holly shouted as she looked at her phone

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask

“Umm, you are going to LOVE this shit, Y/N/N”

She thrusts her phone in your face. When you look down you see a picture of Elias holding Gunnar, with a toy you hadn’t seen before. Elias looks so happy, looking down at the baby Horvat. Then there’s another alert on Holly's phone, “ohmygod,” you mumble. The alert is another text from Bo, it’s a video this time. You press play. In the video Elias is playing with Gunnar, using a high-pitched baby voice “oh yes you love your new toy that the best uncle in the world got you! Yes, you do cause I’m your very favorite, yes I am. You are just so cute, so lucky you got your looks from your mama, yes you are.”

From behind the camera, you can hear Bo, “Hey, have you looked at him, he looks just like me”

“Daddy is crazy, isn’t he? Yeaaaaah” Elias says to the boy.

The video ends and you see what text Bo had sent along with the picture and video

Bowie 💙: Yes, he got him ANOTHER toy. If he keeps this up, we’re gonna need a bigger house just for the toys lias gets him

“This boy is going to be the death of me I swear to god,” you say, handing the phone to Quinn, and placing your head in your hand. That video was literally the cutest thing you’ve seen in about 5 years.

You continue to talk, you end up explaining what Elias had told you about not doing anything else yet, and what he had said regarding that. You all finish eating and eventually decide on watching some ’how i met your mother’.

After they leave, you spend the rest of the night replaying the events from the break room in your head. Imagining what will eventually happen with you two. You truly can’t believe it. You’ve never felt this way about anyone and you’ve only known he likes you for about 12 hours. Elias Pettersson is going to be a special, if not the most special person in your life. So you pull out your notebook and a pen that you always keep next to your bed and you write your thoughts down.

First, you write the date at the top then skip 2 lines

Elias Pettersson, I think I love you. I know it’s too early to say and we’ve only had one day together, but I need to write this down.

It looks ridiculous and cheesy now that I’m reading it but if my gut is right, which it normally is, I just had to write it down. I had to tell you. If not in real life, at least just in this notebook. As cliche as it sounds, maybe I can show you it one day. I mean I do love myself a hallmark movie, so maybe this can be like one of those.

You sign it at the bottom, close your notebook, and place it back in your drawer.

You’re such a hopeless romantic and you kinda want to make fun of yourself, like you would do if you found out any of the guys did this kind of thing. ( And if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if your own brother would do something like this. Your parents kind of instilled a love of romcoms in you guys at a young age.)

So once your thoughts have settled, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Elias’s night wasn’t that much different. He arrived at the Horvat residence with some snacks for the boys, and a new toy for Gunnar, as always. Every time he sees one he knows Gunnar will like, he buys it...it’s a problem.

“Petey!!” Stech shouts as he gets up to grab the snacks from him.

“So how was your daaaaay” Thatcher asks from the couch.

“I’m sure Brock has inform you of how my day went”

“‘Inform’ us he has. But OUR plan is what caused this. WE worked very hard on it” Thatcher says, chuckling.

“Wait, who all knew about it??”

“I didn’t!” Bo shouts from the kitchen!

“And neither did this little boy, he would never betray me,” Elias says, grabbing Gunnar from Brock on the couch and carrying him into the kitchen, the other guys follow. “And guess what Gunnar!!! I got you another toy, cause I’m the best uncle you have, yes I am.”

“Another toy Lias?? Really, I’m going to need to make a whole mother room for all of the toys you get him if you don’t stop”

“But why would I ever stop when he is the best boy ever! He deserves the world, yes he does,” Elias says, looking at Gunnar the whole time.

“Ok, now it’s time for him to have dinner,” Bo says, grabbing Gunnar from Elias.

“So… all of you knew?”

Stech, Brock, Demer, and Marky all nodded, with a guilty look.

“What about you? Elias said, looking at Nils. Nils looked guilty and nodded slowly “my own son? Really Hogs?”

“I’m sorry, I just wants to help you!!”

“We all just ‘wants’ to help you, Petey!” Marky said, mocking the youngest Swede’s mistake. All of them would do that to both of them, make fun of them when they messed up, they just wanted to help them, it’s all in good fun.

“Ok, I know but what if it didn’t work, what would you guys have done?”

“Elias my dear, the point is that it did work. And now Brock won’t have an aneurysm every time you and Y/N/N are in the same room together” Troy says, placing his arm around Elias’s shoulder.

“Yeah Petey, all we wanted was for you to like her as much as we do!” Thatcher said.

“Ok, I never hated her, I just-”, he paused trying to come up with what he was going to say next, “I don’t socialize well, it’s hard for me to talk to people, ok?”

“Which is exactly why we did this. Y/C/N/N is a sweet girl, we just needed to give you both a push since you’re essentially the same person” Marky said.

“LITERALLY” Brock shouted, “ I swear, the more and more I hang out with you, Petey, the more I realize you and my sister are the same. Like sure, she and Quinny are best friends. And like they’re both similar like they’re both shy, awkward, nice, and stuff but you two have the same humor, need for attention, sassy bite, etcétéra etcétéra.”

“Oh my god, you’re totally right! And their fake self confident-ness thingy!!” The other guys shouted assorted affirmations to Nils’s comment.

“What do you mean ‘fake self-confidence thing’?” Elias was confused.

“Both of you do a something where you say stuffs like “well I’m hot, so..” or “cause I’m the best” and my favorite “because the people likes me better than you” but neither of you feel that way far down. You both just like to act like you more confident than you are really.”

“Damn, he called you two out, and he’s so right” Bo chimed in with a chuckle. “Ok, well now that he’s done eating, Marky, can you and the baby Swede go out and pick up the pizza?”

“Yes sir, captain sir!” Marky said saluting Bo.

The rest of them talked while they waited for Gunnars stomach to settle.

“Hey Petey, wanna go grab drinks from the store with me,” Thatcher asks.

“I think we’re good actu-“ Bo starts

“Petey” Thatcher insists with a look that says that’s not exactly the reason why he wants Elias to come with him. And he knows better than to say no to a goalie who gives him that look.

“Yep,” he gets up and follows Demer out the door.

They get in the car and that’s when it starts “so,” Thatch says, “how long have you liked her?” He asks.

“I- uh what? What are you talking abou-”

“Oh save it blondy, I have a 6th sense about this shit.”

“Damn goalies. At least Marky doesn’t know,” Elias mumbles under his breath.

“Oh he definitely does, he just hasn’t said anything for some reason” he laughs.

“How do you know he just doesn’t know?”

“Cause I know this shit, bro. He may have even been messing with you since he and Y/N/N are cuddle buddies and shit. Just to get you to make a move or something”

“HE MADE ME DO THE OPPOSITE! I thought they were together for the longest time until she told me TODAY” That made Thatcher laugh, you know, Elias’s pain and suffering is just HILARIOUS.

Once he calmed down he continued to talk, “Ok, well you didn’t tell us the whole story of what happened in there, so spill” he said as they walked into the store.

“We may have talked”

“....bitch that’s not it, keep going”

“And we kissed a little,” Elias said, face turning red.

“That’s my boy!” Thatcher clapped him on the shoulder.

“You're only 3 years older than me”

“And you're only a year older than Nils, who you claim as your ‘son,’ so shhh” he retorted, “so I assume you two talked about it after, actually knowing you two, that may not have happened,” Thatcher said as they checked out.

“Ha ha ha, yes we talked about it Douglas,” Elias said with an eye roll. “I just told her that I can’t do anything till I do something” he said as they got into the car again.

“What’s that “something” you have to do?” The goalie questioned.

“Talk to her older brother that may just kill me if I tell him so, I’m not too pumped about that.”

“Have you forgotten how much Brock loves you? You’re each other’s work husbands, I think if you tell him he’ll be shocked, but he’d be ok with it.”

“But you didn’t hear what Brock had said about his friend chad in high school! He beat him up and cut him out, I don’t want that to happen to me”

“Petey, if you feel as strongly as I think you feel about YNN then I think you have to tell her, or that would be an extreme disservice to you, her, and honestly my mental health, so you have some work to do.” He said as they finally walked into the Horvat house again.

“Yeah, Petey you have to work on some stuff, like your hair!” Brock quipped.

“Shut up, frat boy, not all of us can have a luscious flow like you.” Elias jabbed back, “oh hi, how’s my favorite person here? Is your tummy settled now, can I finally give you your new toy?”

“Yes, you can,” Bo says, handing his child off to the blonde Swede.

Elias took Gunnar down to the floor, where his new toy was, and played with him while talking in his baby voice, at some point Bo took a video and sent it to Holly, and also his insta story. But that’s ok, he loved his little ‘nephew,’ and honestly, his day couldn’t have gone better.

Tagist: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan @2manytabsopen @lovethepreds @callllumhood @mellany1997 @yourlocalgranolagirl54 @all-time-fanatic @Fitnessfreak498 @mysoftboybowen @peachyotps @kale-makar @kentjohnsons @iwantahockeyhimbo @aeyyy-ohhhh @peteysimp @nhlindblom @mitchsmullet @dolphinahabsfan @starswin @heunderwoo @hockeymockeryandlove @peteysimp

#from a distance: series #hockey #nhl #elias pettersson fic #elias pettersson imagines #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fic

[chaoticallysapphic]

stroke

summary: Lin catches you slacking off during your workout.

a/n: thank you to @ladyxffandoms​ for beta reading this. Highkey got inspired to write this after we were all thirsty on main last night. ALSO PLEASE DON’T READ THIS IF YOU ARE A MINOR, NOT ONLY IS THIS LITERALLY PORN IT WILL MAKE ME EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE.

word count: 2k

Lin Beifong is a damn tease, and you can’t take it anymore. You’re the only people in the station’s gym. She had asked you to work out with her, claiming she can’t have one of her officers losing muscle on the job. You know that’s not the real reason, a few months ago you asked Lin out on a date and ever since then, you two have been secretly seeing one another. 

The problem was that you were worried about what your coworkers would think if they were to find out. Originally, this had offended Lin before you had a chance to explain that you were worried that they would think you were only with her for the perks. She had scoffed and said she’d never give you special treatment on the job, which you appreciated.  

But right now, she’s drenched in sweat and is wearing that white tank top and sweatpants while she does push-ups. The action makes the muscles on her arms pop and you gulp before doing a sit-up to appear like you aren’t distracted by her. You wet your lips as you continue to indiscreetly watch her, squeezing your legs together as your mind clouds with thoughts of being underneath her. 

Images of the night before flash before your eyes, moaning her name as you beg her to let you cum. She had been edging you for who knows how long and you were a blubbering mess by the end. When she finally did let you cum you suddenly saw stars as she continued to pound into you with her strap.  After you had finally  calmed down, you felt her cleaning you up as she spoke to you in a loving tone, telling you what a good girl you were. 

“Y/n?” Lin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you flush when you find her staring at you with a knowing look, you realize now that you were rubbing your thighs together as you reminisced about the night before. 

She’s now in a planking position but slowly lowers the lower half of her body until her pelvis touches the ground, putting her into a cobra pose.  The problem being that she keeps staring at you with a heated look that makes you feel like you're melting. “Four more sit-ups and we can go to the showers,” she says to you in that assertive tone that goes straight to your core. 

Those four sit-ups are the most agonizing ones you’ve ever done. Lin has gotten up from her position on the floor and is standing over you with her arms crossed as she silently critiques your form. When you’ve finally finished the last one she smirks and offers you her hand which you gratefully accept. 

She pulls you up onto your feet as she doesn’t break eye contact, “We have to clean you up, now don’t we?” You wordlessly nod as she takes you into the girl's locker room which is completely deserted. 

Lin lets go of your hand and walks over to her locker where she begins to take her shoes off, you slowly walk over to your own and begin the process of undressing, when you get to your shirt you look over and see Lin has already taken off her top along with the bindings she uses for exercising, your breath catches in your throat as you watch a bead of sweat roll down her neck and onto her collarbone where it proceeds to trail down Lin’s right tit. As she begins to untie her pants, she catches you out of the corner of her eye and chuckles. “You can’t shower if you keep staring at me.” 

You bite your lip and say, “I can’t help that my girlfriend is so hot.” That effectively catches her off guard and you see her cheeks flush. Lin might be able to talk dirty to you and flirt with you but the second you compliment her she’s always caught off guard. 

You finally take off your shirt now that you have her attention and immediately pull off your bindings. Her eyes slide down to your tits and you work on untying your pants. It takes a minute to untie the knot as you begin to feel flustered under her heated gaze but you finally manage and slide them, along with your underwear, down your legs and place them on the bench beside you along with the rest of your clothes. 

As you stand completely bare in front of her, Lin gulps as all the things she wants to do to you bounce around in her mind. You saunter up and muster all your courage as you slide your hand up her muscular stomach to trace the outline of her left tit. 

She seems to snap out of her flustered state and grabs your wrist, stopping you. “Get in the shower.” She demands, and a rush of tingling heat is sent straight to your core as her once bright green eyes darken. When you turn to walk away Lin takes her opportunity and slaps your ass, eliciting a squeak of surprise from you that has her smirking. 

While you're walking you can feel your slickness drip from your core and onto your thighs. You get to the row of showers and you choose the one in the far back and turn it on, the water is hot as it sprays onto your naked form, and you begin to wet your hair when you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist. 

You lean into Lin and let out a breathy sigh when you feel her hands start to slowly slide down your body. When her hands get to your thighs they slide up the inner part and she lets out a groan when she feels how wet you are. “You're such a slut, I haven’t even touched you yet,” her lips brush across your neck and you can feel her smirk against her skin. “What were you thinking about back there?”

“You,” you breathe out, one of your hands goes down your thighs to try and slide her hand up to your sex but Lin grabs your wrists and tsks. “I was thinking about last night, fuck Lin please.” 

“You don’t get to decide when I touch you,” she bites your earlobe and tugs. Fuck everything she does turns you on and you just need that relief, it’s almost painful how turned on you are. One of her hands slides up your stomach and cups one of your breasts before giving it a good squeeze, you choke out a moan and try to squeeze your thighs together, but Lin’s other hand keeps them apart. 

She begins to roll one of your nipples between her fingers and gently squeezes it, you keep whining for her now, not caring about how desperate you sound. “Beg me,” she whispers in your ear with a domineering tone. 

“Fuck Lin, please I want you to touch me, want you to make me come right in here in the station.” You beg and try to squeeze your thighs once more. Lin groans at your words and immediately cups your sex in approval which has you gripping her wrist to keep yourself up.

 She twists you around and pushes you against the wall underneath the showerhead, water cascades down her bare body and you just want to lick every drop up. 

One of her fingers lightly strokes your slit and you ground your pelvis down onto her hand, she grabs your hips to keep you still and looks up into your eyes. “Stay still,” she says sternly and you lean your head back against the tile of the shower as she continues to teasingly stroke you. 

“Please,” you beg, with nothing else to grab onto one of your hands grips her shoulder as Lin slowly eases her finger through your folds and brings it up to your clit, she barely brushes over it. You want to cry. 

The spirits must pity you because finally, she pushes a single finger inside of you and curls it. Her thumb brushes over your clit once, twice, and then thrice before finally pressing down on it. Heat pools in your stomach and you are already close from all the waiting. 

“You’re such an eager little slut, look at how your body responds to me after I put a finger inside of you,” she sounds so cocky which you find so fucking hot. 

You ground your hip down on her hand, forgetting her command to stay still and suddenly you hear the sound of metal being ripped from somewhere, you open your eyes as the sudden feeling of something cold wraps around your waist and you see she bent a piece of metal to keep you in place. Fuck. “Are you my slut?” 

You nod, not being able to find the ability for words as you moan from her finger pumping inside you. Her motions halt immediately and she slowly retracts her hand from your core which has your eyes snapping open in panic. She looks unimpressed and slightly miffed. “You know to use your words.” 

You let out a high pitched whine as you begin to cry, you were close, all she needed to do was pick up her speed a little bit and you would have been a goner but the feeling has abruptly receded and all you're left with is that awful feeling of not finishing. 

“I’m…” You gulp, “I’m your eager little slut, please, please keep going.” You stumble over your words, truly desperate for her to continue and she runs her fingers up your slit, collecting some of your wetness and bringing her fingers up to your mouth. “Suck first.” 

You immediately open your mouth for her and begin to swirl your tongue around her two fingers. You hollow your cheeks out and suck just how you know she likes. Lin moans at the sight. “You’re being such a good whore for me, I’m gonna fuck you tonight…” She licks up the column of your throat, “fuck you with my special strap.” 

Fuck. Her special strap was double-sided and it was your favorite because you get to see her in the throes of pleasure as she pounds into you. She pulls her fingers out of your mouth and slowly gets onto her knees. As she descends, her lips trail kisses down your body until she gets above your womanhood. Looking up into your eyes as she places a soft kiss right there before using her fingers to open you up. 

Lin moans at the sight of you. “You look so pretty for me, so wet and ready for my fingers.” 

Before you begin to beg her again she licks up your slit and presses her tongue against your clit. You let out a squeal of surprise at her actions but she doesn’t stop there, she inserts two fingers in you and begins to slowly pump them into your pussy as her tongue teasingly licks at your clit. 

“Please Lin, please I need mo-” before you can finish she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks. “Oh fuck, Lin, fuck.” You whine as your fingers find purchase in her hair and tightly grip just how she likes. She moans around your bundle of nerves and begins to pump her fingers faster. 

The heat is building up inside of you and you wish you could move but there’s still the metal keeping you in place and you begin to chant your lover's name as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Lin, Lin, Lin.

“I’m close!” You don’t care if someone walking by may hear you. Let the whole station know at this point that your with Lin fucking Beifong, the best lover you’ve ever had. 

She looks up at you and lets go of your clit as she says in an encouraging tone. “Cum for me baby girl, I want to feel you squeeze yourself around my fingers.” 

And oh fuck the combination of her words along with the curl of her fingers sends you over the edge, your mouth opens in a silent scream as you feel that cord in your belly snap and you're encased in white-hot pleasure that has you feeling like your floating. 

You’re faintly aware of Lin’s tongue lapping at your entrance but everything is so intense. So foggy that all you can focus on is the amazing feeling that hits you in waves. 

When you finally begin to come down from your high, you feel Lin licking up the slickness on your thighs as she slowly retracts her fingers, you whimper at the empty feeling and she looks up and into your eyes. 

“You did so good,” she praises you as she bends the metal away from your waist, you slump down because your thighs are shaking and your legs feel so weak. She wraps her arms around your waist to keep you upright as she stands. 

“You okay?” Lin always checks in after you have sex and it warms your heart at how caring she is. You nod, not being able to get any words out in between your pants. “So proud of you baby,” she places a soft, short kiss to your lips. “Now let me clean you up.”

#lin beifong #chief beifong #simping for lin beifong #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong/reader #lin beifong smut #smut #fanfic #lok smut #lok fanfic #legend of korra

[honorguk]

Dating » Kim Yugyeom (GOT7)

.•° ✿ °•. navigation | REQUESTED!

– What it’s like to date Yugyeom from GOT7 (based on my assumptions) <3  * it’s a bit long but pretty intricate, so i hope you enjoy it ;) *

»•» OVERALL:

a shy cutie at the start that opens up much more later on

legit won’t tell you that he properly loves you until like month 4 or 5 - he wants to be utterly sure that you’re the person he’s marrying

and trust me, once he’s decided that, he will marry you

you guys will prank each other loads (and he will scream SO LOUD when you pop up from under the bed)

will get all shy over pda and skinship but tbh he’ll try to overcome that fear and slowly but surely show more affection to you in public

but even at home, he’s a bit timid at first so when he lays his head on your lap, you better appreciate that

lives for the praise

you’d visit him during practice and sit in the back of the practice room and yugyeom will dance extra well to impress you

and then bambam would crouch beside you and watch his best friend dance while whispering to you “he’s not always that amazing- he’s just showing off ‘cause you’re here” followed by an “i’m joking” and then by a “not really”

speaking of bambam, you and him would also be quite close (and lil yugyeom would get so jealous awh)

“yugyeom’s mine, and you’re just stealing him away!” bambam would shout and latch onto his arm, trying to run away with him as yug laughs and you chase after the two

literally get attacked in cuddles and kisses after he comes home from work 

you’re the number one got7 fan, as supposed

mark would point to you in the crowd and bring yugyeom over so he can see you during one of their concerts, and he’d start getting all giddy and start jumping up and down

would tease you once he’s more comfortable around you

wouldn't be able to fall asleep unless you’re cuddling him (after that, he’d dream of you and you’d see him smile in his sleep <3)

»•» DATES YOU GO ON:

i see yugyeom as a simple guy - coffee dates and cinema nights are the favorite go-to

will walk around town with just your pinkies intertwined instead of your full hands

but if you guys decide to get all adventurous, he’d take you to the beach and end up soaking you with water

“yugyeom what the hell! i spent two hours on makeup today!” “not my problem, darling!” you’d both shout at each other as you run after him

he wouldn’t be extremely into couple-y matching outfits at first, but then you’d try some on together, and he’d fall in love with the concept

so that means you’re always matching somehow

being seen walking around with a girl like you would make this kid so. confident. he loves going out with you, it’s no doubt

sometimes the rest of the boys (or maknae line, rather) would be pretending to “accidentally run into” yugyeom when he’s on a date with you.. they’re just spying, per usual, and taking a hell of a load of candids

»•» PET NAMES:

“hey cutie!” when you first see each other that day

“honeeeey” when he wants your attention (and he’d poke you until you kissed him to catch him off guard and shut him up)

he’d be all cute and act innocent when he wants your attention as well. would cutely follow you around like a puppy till you notice him and shoo him away

“but baby…” he’d pout and that’s how he gets you wrapped around his finger

what works with him is literally anything said in a higher pitched and cuter voice

but he especially likes ‘baby’ or ‘babe’ - a man of simple desires. sometimes you’d call him ‘pup’ which makes him all blushy as well

»•» WHILE ON TOUR:

he sort of neglects his phone since he’s so focused on the tour, but he never forgets to send short lil updates or photos when he’s done with work

sometimes you’d stay up for him (considering you’re in different timezones) and facetime when he’s available

and the facetime would be taken over by the other members who were all secretly excited to see you as well (but since yugyeom is just a taaad jealous, they never expressed it hehe)

he’d really try his best to give you as much love as he can from a distance

you’d be live messaging him while watching the playback of a concert, or an interview, and you’d keep telling him how good he looks and how much you miss him

gosh he’s a sucker for praise, especially from you (and even though he gets red and tells you to stop doesn’t mean he wants you to stop)

(and you never stop)

it could get a little heated if he’s totally alone in the room...but he’s too shy to do anything over the phone (for now *wink*)

but when he comes home from tour, you’re the first thing in his arms, and he’s picking you up and crushing you in the biiiiiggest hug for ages :)

»•» ARGUING/MAKING UP:

he hates arguing and tries to do as little of it as possible

but that means he could seem a little ignorant or dismissive, like he’s running away from the issue

and you tell him that and that’s what sparks the argument most of the time

yugyeom would try not to raise his voice but he really struggles sometimes, especially if you have already

but he’d urge you both to sit down and calmly talk about it - shouting matches don’t put him in the best mental space

he’d take your hand and listen carefully about what you’ve got to say, and vice versa

oftentimes, if he didn’t think the fight was worth it/not that important, he’d pretend that nothing happened afterwards

but if he saw that you were still upset, he’d never let his ego eat away at him and instead he’ll buy you flowers or take you out for dinner that evening, and all is good :)

your fights aren’t very often though, thankfully. practically non-existent

you have playful ones, like you’d argue about pizza toppings while laughing

but whatever the fight may be, there would be times when you’d end up in bed because of it

“we either fight it out or fuck it out”

and hey, sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures

»•» NSFW:

his innocent and timid shell disappears and he’s all bossy

most likely a soft dom, but still, he’s mostly in control

he loves touching all over you - your hips and waist, hands, neck, arm, chest, thighs - you name it

and it’s all super lovely and passionate

always grinning and smirking and telling you how great you look beneath him

sloppy kisses and a rough, steady pace are his everything

wouldn’t let you mark him since he’s so scared that someone will see, but you’d still leave scratches and gently bite his collarbone area and chest and that would make him go crazy

he loves seeing the scratch/nail marks afterwards. if he could, he’d go for round two instantly once he saw them in the mirror

i don’t think yugyeom’s that kinky, but he isn’t vanilla either

he’d tease you, make you beg a little until he’s pleased with how truly needy you are for him, then he’d get to work

rarely, if he’s really feeling it, he’ll use a silk tie to tie ur hands behind your back

but yugyeom’s a definite switch. he will loooove to see you in control, domming him and putting his hands up over his head, telling him that he shouldn’t dare to bring them back down

kinda loud and whiny, especially when his eyes are rolled back when he’s close

but no matter how rough and passionate the dirty was, you’d both end up cuddling and joking around and fall asleep in each other’s arms

#got7 #kpop #got7 imagines #got7 yugyeom #kim yugyeom #got7 kim yugyeom #angst #fluff #smut #reactions #imagines #one shots #blurbs #drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #got7 reactions #scenarios #got7 scenarios #kpop scenarios #kim yugyeom fluff #kim yugyeom angst #kim yugyeom smut #got7 yugyeom fluff #got7 yugyeom angst #got7 yugyeom smut #jackson wang #got7 jackson #got7 mark #mark tuan

[ambivalent-anarchy]

You've Got Moves (Part 2)

Masterlist

Part 1

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

A/N: Better late than never, right?😂😂 (wow 2 fics in one week that's crazyyy) Also I put one of my favorite comedy tiktoks in the dialogue soooooo oops? Also Harry and Ned are wingmen who share one brain cell and I like it that way

I might make one more part to this but idk

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

It took 7 months for Peter to ask you out.

It took the time for MJ and Asher to become a couple, homecoming to go by, MJ and Asher to break up, winter formal, midterm exams, MJ and Asher to get back together, and Christmas to go before Peter Parker gathered the guts to even consider thinking about asking you out.

Scared wasn't even the word for it.

Harry Osborn, the new transfer student, laughed at how nervous Peter was at lunch. "Asking girls out is easy, Peter. I do it all the time!"

"You say it like it's the simplest thing on earth," Peter dreaded, to which Harry shrugged.

"Because it is! You just ask. How is it that I've only been at this school for 2 months and I've had more chicks than both you and Ned combined?"

"Hooking up is not a hobby of mine. That's why," Peter retorted with a pitifully unintimidating glare.

Harry shrugged with his shit-eating grin. "It's not my fault the girls and gays can't resist these lips."

Ned chimed in as he threw a french fry into his mouth. "Peter, this isn't like Liz last year. You and [Y/N] are already really close, dude. I'm sure you can just ask her. Who knows? She might say yes!"

"But what if she says no?," Peter groaned. "Then I'll just be one of those people she avoids and barely talks to out of awkwardness." He shifted in his seat nervously. "I don't want that."

"But if you don't say anything then you'll always regret it," Ned pointed out.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Peter, pull out your phone."

Peter raised his eyebrows in confusion, but followed Harry's instructions.

"Go to her in messages and say 'hey let's get dinner'." He smiled. "See? Simple."

Peter opened your messages in his phone and stared at your profile picture.

'You can do this, Peter. You can do this.'

He bit his lip. "Okay but should I say, 'let's get dinner' or 'do you want to get dinner'?" Seeing Harry's impatient face, he explained himself. "I just feel like those two sentences have completely different vibes, y'know?"

Harry glared at him. "Are you really about to have us telling you what to tell your crush like a bunch of girls?"

Peter didn't know how to answer that question seriously. "Uh...yes?"

Harry pondered the question for a small bit before simply shrugging and answering. "Hmm, go with 'let's get dinner', so you'll sound all confident and assertive."

"Okay."

Before Peter could press send without thinking twice, Ned stopped him. "Well, actually now you sound a little aggressive, man."

"Really?," Peter asked with a wince, immediately erasing the message.

"Yeah, I mean the last thing you wanna be like is the guy that's all like 'let's get dinner' like you're some kind of caveman."

Peter groaned. "Oh no, definitely not."

Ned ate another fry. "You want to ask her to dinner, not tell her to dinner."

"I'll go with 'do you want to get dinner' then," Peter said with a nod.

That one didn't sit well with Harry. "No Pete. Cuz now you sound like a pussy."

Peter slammed his phone onto the lunch table. "This stuff is tough!"

Ned turned towards Harry. "No but listen. The last thing Peter wants to do is come off as the overly masculine type that's all like 'let's get dinner cuz I'm the breadwinner, bitch', y'know?"

Harry shook his head. "Yeah but women also love assertiveness. You have to know what you want."

Peter stared at the table, desperately wanting the conversation to be over. Why would he even go to these two for relationship advice? Harry was the king of hookups and Ned's relationships never lasted longer than a few weeks. What was he thinking? For a guy with a 4.5 GPA, he sure did feel stupid.

"I got it!," Ned exclaimed. "Okay. Text her this. 'Dinner would be something that I would enjoy taking you on, but only if YOU were also interested in attending the meal'." He held his hands up for praise.

Harry nodded. "Mhm. Perfect balance. And the more words the better."

Peter just stared back at them, wondering where he'd gone wrong in life. "...no.... I'm not gonna send her that."

Harry shrugged. "Welp,' he sighed. "I guess some people just don't want to be helped."

So close to slamming his head into the table in front of him, Peter felt a tsunami of relief hit when he saw Asher walk into the cafeteria.

Asher was your best friend. If anyone knew the proper way you'd want to be asked out, it'd be him.

The second Asher noticed Peter looking at him, he made his way over. "Hey Peter. What's up?," he asked as he found an empty seat.

Harry spoke up before Peter had the chance. "Hey Ash. Pick one. 'Let's get dinner' or 'do you want to get dinner'."

Asher thought for a second. "Depends on the girl," he said before taking a bite into his apple. "-but 'do you want to get dinner' is nicer. Why?"

Harry slammed his fist on the table. "Damn it!"

"Yes!," Ned cheered.

Asher looked around the table. "Okay, by why?"

Harry and Ned went quiet and looked to Peter, who was staring anywhere to avoid eye contact. He began to mumble pitifully."I....I-i wanna.. I wanna-"

Harry and Ned spoke up, already tired of the conversation not getting anywhere. "He wants to ask-"

"-I wanna ask [Y/N] out!," he blurted, feeling his cheeks start to burn when Asher's smirk turned into a wide grin.

"Well it's about time!," he exclaimed. "She's been crazy about you since you met."

"Really? She has?," Peter asked. That wasn't even in the realm of possibility in his mind.

Asher nodded. "She's always going off to me about how-" he mocked your higher pitched voice. "I've been dropping him hints since, like, foreverrrr!"

"Seriously?! She has?"

Ned laughed. "Well Peter. She has been calling you cute since the day she met you..."

"But I just always thought it was the friendly kind of cute, y'know?," he rambled. "Not the boyfriend type cute!"

"How many girls are out here calling you cute for you to make that assumption, dude?," Harry asked.

Asher sighed. "So this is what it's like to have low confidence." He shook his head and gave Peter a disappointed look. "I can't say I like witnessing this, Pete."

"Just-" Peter groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. "Just tell me what will work, okay? I need to ask her out perfectly."

Asher tilted his head in confusion. "She's a simple girl. You just have to straight up ask her out. What's the confusion there?"

"That's what I said!," Harry yelled.

"You know he's got to make it difficult for himself for no reason," Ned pointed out.

"Okay can we all talk about how terrible I am at this after you help me?," Peter begged.

"...yeah."

"Sure."

"Ugh, fine."

Peter sighed. "Alright. So?"

"What are you going for?," Asher asked. "Like a gift or something?"

"I just want whatever's the absolute best way to ask her out."

Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. If he was gonna set you up with your crush, he wanted it to happen right.

"Okay," he said, staring Peter in the eyes with a new sort of intensity. "Think about your best moments with her. Now pick something special from all those moments and voila! You'll have it!"

Peter nodded and stared at the ground as he thought for a while about everything he'd done with you since the beginning of school. You were truly the most extraordinary, most confident girl he'd ever met.

Every time he'd thought you couldn't get more perfect, you'd just show him another side of you that was better than the rest. He always stayed endlessly impressed and most of all, he felt as if he didn't have to try too hard with you. He could be himself and mess up as many times as he could manage and you still stuck around, showing him that there needn't be any worries.

And your style? Fuck, you could make anything work for him. You were the only one who could get him out of his comfort zone and in front of a camera, for something as frivolous as a TikTok. But he'd always do it, and even find the fun in it, because it made you happy.

"Remember how we freaked out that first time when she called you cute, Pete?," Ned said. "She said that you were cute and that you only had to put it use!"

Harry laughed. "This girl is literally giving you the instructions, Peter. Take them."

"Hmm." Peter looked up with a smile and snapped his fingers. "I got it."

-

You tossed popcorn into your mouth and snuggled yourself further into the blanket. "Ash, how can you even say that? 'It' is a horror movie!"

"Yeah, technically," he retorted. "But there's literally not a single part of the movie that's scary. It's more of a drama than anything else."

"You realize the clown phobia rate skyrocketed when the movie came out right?"

Asher scoffed. "Uh, your point? It's not my fault some pussies couldn't sit through it. Still a drama. The story definitely played with your emotions more than your fears."

"Whateverrrr," you laughed. "I can't deal with you."

"Pennywise literally got up and did this," he said before breaking out into Pennywise's dance. He laughed as he kicked his legs out. "What kind of horror movie has this crap in it?" He stopped when he felt the full force of you throwing a pillow on his face. "Ugh!"

"Sit down and get under the covers, idiot," you hissed. "I wanna keep watching these HORROR films."

"Whateverrrr," he drawled out, mocking you. He sighed and plopped down next to you, grabbing a handful of popcorn after.

When school was getting suffocating, marathoning horror movies with Asher were a must. He had an endless repertoire and all the time in the world for his best friend.

Halfway through 'It: Chapter 2' though, the movie was the least of your focus and instead was TikTok.

What could you say? The app was addictive.

It was a big, entertaining, completely useless collage of everything every no-name had to offer, from stupid debates to cringey POV's to fun dance routines.

You tried to hook every friend you could on it. Asher, of course, already knew about it since it first came out and he, of course, had thousands of followers because most of what he posted was random thirsts traps whenever he was feeling hot, which was always. And thirsts traps are always in high demand for the people on TikTok.

You tried to hook MJ on it, but she'd already decided that she didn't like it before even giving it a chance. Even the messy, political side didn't reel her in.

Of course then there was Peter, who didn't know was TikTok even was before he met you. You made it your sole mission to get him hooked, but you'd since given up on that. It was a lost cause. The only time he probably ever saw TikTok nowadays was when he was doing dances with you before gym started. He let you put the app on his phone but he never used it. You wouldn't even put it past him to have deleted it, but it was whatever. TikTok had started his friendship with you, so needless to say, it'd done an amazing job in your life.

Plus your followers were always asking about him. All of the "omg couple goalssss" and "you guys look so cute together" served as massive confidence boosters. A girl can dream, right?

You shifted over a bit when you felt Ash getting closer and closer to you.

When he moved over again, you scooted away, only for him to get closer again. "Ash, what is your deal?"

"Easy there," he chuckled, backing up a little. "I'm looking at the phone, not you."

"You've been all up in my phone all day, what's up?"

"I can't tell you," he shrugged, a sly smirk stretching across his face. "But," he pointed to your tiny screen. "Some idiot is taking wayyyy too long to shoot his shot."

"Shoot his shot?" You gasped. "Who?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he said with a smirk.

"Nooooo," you whined. "If someone has a crush on me you gotta spill! C'mon, please?"

He laughed and repeated himself. "I'm sorry, but I am not at liberty to say!"

"Bullshit! Who is it? C'mon! C'monnnnnn!"

He shrugged and this time you knew that he was dead set on not giving up the mystery guy.

"Ugh," you pouted. "Fine. Let's just finish the stupid movie."

-

"Kids next door, battle stations!!!!"

And now it was sometime after midnight. The popcorn was all gone. The movie was done and now you were watching old cartoons so that the horror movie wouldn't be the last thing on your mind before bed.

Looking over, you saw that Asher didn't need any cartoons like you did. He was already passed out, snoring as loud as ever.

Grumbling in boredom, you stared at the wall, trying to connect the tiny dots in the designs. It was like something was officially keeping you from being able to fall asleep.

*Ding!*

At the sound of your phone receiving a text, you sat up curiously. Who was texting you at this hour?

You smiled when you saw that it was Peter.

Pete: hey y/n

You were about to send him a quick,"why are you up this late" text, but he kept typing.

Pete: pls dont judge me too hard for this

With that completely vague warning, you furrowed your eyebrows, concerned.

Y/n: whats up r u okay

He sent you a link next, which confused you, but not as much as when you actually pressed it.

It led you to TikTok, and the video was waiting to be pressed to start. Peter was standing in the middle of the screen with one of his typical corny sweatshirts on. The caption at the top read: "For [Y/N] Only". Smiling already, you quickly pressed play.

You slapped your hand over your mouth. "Oh my God."

"So he finally got the guts, huh?," Asher mumbled, having woken up from the loud music on your phone but was still half-asleep.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I wake you?," you asked. You turned down your phone.

"Don't worry about me, you just got a boyfriend," he chuckled, moving to lay down so he could get to sleep again. "Text him back for god's sake."

~~~

Y/n: its been almost a whole year and youre still so cute when you make those

Pete: haha thanks

Pete: uh

Pete: i really like you y/n

Pete: do u think you'd wanna go out with me or get dinner sometime?

~~~

"He asked me out," you gasped. "Ash, he asked me out!"

Asher rolled over and groaned. "I thought that was already established? Jesus, you two couldn't possibly be moving any slower."

You rolled your eyes. "Fuck you."

"Nah, you're with Peter now," he laughed. "You're gonna have to fuck him instead!" That comment earned him another pillow to the face.

You looked back at the messages and sent a tiny cute one. You smirked at the new idea of what was about to happen and turned it off before going to sleep.

~~~

Y/n: kiss me at school tomorrow and find out

~~~

Didn't do a third edit cuz I got lazy but I'm pretty happy with the turnout anyway. Thanks for reading!

Tagging: @allegra-writes, @allegra-soleil, @yumings, @hey-its-grey, @spideyyeet, @sunkissedspidey, @tommyunderoos, @chaoticpete, @snarky--starky, @sovereignparker, @thesherlockianavenger, @bubblebucky, @kelieah, @eridanuswave, @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr, @kidney9-9, @gwenvrse

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #spiderman mcu #peter parker fic #spiderman #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x you #peter parker #spiderman fic #spiderman x reader #peter parker is a dork #peter parker funny #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman funny #spiderman x y/n #peter parker tiktok fic #tiktok fic #peter parker mcu #mcu fandom #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x you #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction

[liamscxtt]

a day in the life ; self para

when: thursday, august 28th

where: literally everywhere

nb: just a brief (long) narrative of what the typical day looks like for liam.

trigger warnings: homelessness, death and drug mentions, drug abuse

5:00am

there’s a moment when you first wake up when everything is just a haze. a moment when you forget who you are, what day it is -- all of your problems just don’t exist, for that moment. the moment only lasted a few seconds before the blaring sound of the alarms coming from the phone bring you back to the brutal aspects of reality. and yet, those were the best five seconds for liam.

groaning, he turned over and tapped on his screen, desperately trying to shut the alarm off; the bright screen burning his already sleep deprived eyes. he probably only got about three hours of sleep, if that. he was used to it at this point, and then there were days like today. days where he wanted to wither into the depths of his own self-loathing. 

he looked out the window to see the sun beginning to rise. a sky painted with shades of blues, purples, and oranges, almost like a messy yet somewhat neatly put together painting made by a middle schooler. there was something beautiful about waking up with the sun, parts of it that brought him peace. his sister loved watching the sunrise - she always went on and on about how sunrises were the true underdog; how mother nature picked it’s most beautiful mixture of colors for the sunrises, all because it took a special person to appreciate the beauty that came from it. he never really understood what she meant, until he was forced to watch the sun rise every single morning. and as always, she was right. sunsets had nothing against sunrises. 

these quiet mornings were the best part of liam’s day. the hours where he felt most connected to his sister and to himself. the hours he felt truly at peace. it was crazy to think that liam’s favorite time of the day was between 5:00am and 6:30am. 

he turned on his car to play youtube on his aux before climbing out of his vehicle. the sweet melody’s of the soft pitched tunes filled his car and the immediate area surrounding it, and a smile creeped on his face as one of her favorite songs began playing in the background. he wasn’t religious, but there was a part of him that truly found strength in knowing that his sister wasn’t far away. 

he rolled up the worn down mattress topper, collected his pillow and blanket in one hand. he broke down his bed as he pushed the backseat of his 2006 ford escape upright and neatly tucked his belongings into his trunk. 

5:30am

he pulled into the vacant parking lot of the soulstice gym. the gym was set to open in a half hour; luckily for him, there weren’t many college students that would dare to wake up at the crack of dawn just to work out. he stuffed everything he needed to get ready for the day into a duffle bag; shower supplies, and a clean outfit. he desperately needed to do laundry, and he needed to get food...but pay day wasn’t until next week. he was gonna have to find cash, and find it quick - maybe he’ll just pick up another shift at the bar. he practically lived at that place now.

his footsteps echoed through as he walked through the empty fitness center; not even the cleaners had arrived for their early morning shift. he quickly hopped into the showers and get ready for the day. lord knows he needed to wash the dirt and sins that painted his skin from the previous nights festivities. he couldn’t even recall what exactly happened, and that was both a blessing and a curse. it was shortly after he turned on all the lights and greeted the early morning cleaners, jimmy and george. 

“good morning, son!” greeted george. 

“mornin’, will.” jimmy greeted shortly after. 

jimmy and george worked closely together, and were usually gone for the day 2pm; and yet, liam knew the guys quite well. 

jimmy is in his early-forties, married with two children. he worked two full time jobs to get his children through school. his son played division II baseball at a school somewhere in the midwest, and is majoring in sports education. he wants to be a gym teacher. his daughter is studying to be a nurse at monarch. she aspires to work in women’s health. jimmy always spoke so highly of them two. 

george is in his mid-sixties, but is still kicking it like he’s twenty. he’s also married with children and even grandchildren, but his story is more tragic. he’s a retired firefighter, who is still working a full time job because his pension wasn’t enough to make ends meet. can’t make ends meet. his only daughter passed away at a young age - drug overdose, he says. his only son is constantly in and out of jail for drug charges - leaving george and his wife to take care and raise their two grandchildren, layla and michael. layla is 14 and is getting ready to start high school. she loves to play volleyball, and apparently is a natural. michael is 9 and is getting ready to start fourth grade. he love cars, spider man, legos, sonic, and baseball cards. he wants to be a youtube gamer when he grows up. liam didn’t know the kid, but he thought he was fucking awesome. 

two completely different stories, and yet liam believed that those two men deserved the world and then some.

“what’s up, guys?” liam greeted with a smile as he filled up his metal water bottle at the nearest filling station. “when are the kids set to go back, george?”

“this coming monday. mikey’s already complaining how he doesn’t need school to be a youtuber. apparently he’s ‘done his research’.” the comment makes both liam and jimmy laugh. 

“tell the little man to put that energy into a sport, or a trade. i need a new mechanic.” jim jested, once again causing the other two to laugh. “what about you, will? getting ready to start the semester back up? gabby is already stressing because some of her professors already posted the syllabus.” 

“shit, i haven’t even gotten my textbooks yet. i might have to join mikey with this whole youtuber plan and hope for the best.” liam said with a nervous chuckle. he almost had completely forgotten about the upcoming semester approaching. 

to quickly divert the question away from him, he spoke once more. “say, george. i found a few baseball cards at the bar the other night. remind me to bring them in for you.” 

“you’ll make that boys entire week. maybe i’ll use that to bribe him to go to school.” 

jimmy just smiled. “you’re a good kid, scotty boy. never change.” 

2:30pm

it had only been a half hour since liam clocked out from his morning job, and he quickly made his way over to the library. the mention of school that morning brought liam into a panic. he grabbed a spot at one of desks in the computer station, powering on the device and pulling out his notebook. luckily enough, most of the textbooks he needed the library had available. leaving his stuff behind, he went to go fetched them. 

he already had mastered the technique of not having his own textbooks. every week, he would go and scan all of the chapters he needed for each and every class. luckily, monarch offered free scanning and printing. he made small talk with the librarian that sat at the desk nearby as he printed out at least three weeks worth of chapters for each of his classes. 

he sat down once more, and took the time to put the pile of papers neatly into his binder. it was time to start planning. 

6:30pm

now it was time to work his night time job, mars bar. he was working with adrian tonight, so he knew it wouldn’t be that bad.

his stomach had been grumbling half way through his shift. he hadn’t eaten anything all day. but he continued to push through. he had to, at least until pay day. he continued to chug water; if his stomach was full of water, his body didn’t have time to remind him that it needed some sort of nutrients. he was a master manipulator when it came to his own body now. 

1:00am

the rounded out the tips that he received from his customers. it was a good night, and luckily enough he would be able to do laundry the next day. his body was tired, though; aching from the lack of sleep and abuse his body endured from the festivities. he felt like he could sleep for an entire month, and then some. 

he drove around for a bit after his shift, a thing he did as he needed to both unwind and find a somewhat safe space to park his car. university police were patrolling the parking lots that night, which immediately told him not to park there. he couldn’t park in greek row - too many people he knew by this point. he was left to park in a nearby park, in a nearby neighborhood. he found himself saying a small prayer that nobody would mess with him that night. 

he lit up a joint once he found his place, feeling the smoke fill his lungs as he listened to the calming music that played on the radio. ed sheeran was playing, a song from his multiply album. it was one of his and his sister’s favorite albums. that’s the one thing they shared in common, their taste in music. but she was more pop in a sense, and he was more edgy. but still, the music brought him comfort.

he got his bed ready; a mattress topper, paired with a pillow and a blanket. he made himself comfortable and looked at his phone, just to see he missed a text from his mother at 10:45pm.

hi honey! spoke with your aunt today, and we’re making plans for christmas. did your father reach out to you? let me know what plans he has set. i’ll arrange my trip around your plans. 

i hope you had a great day! i love you! ❤️

her message was followed by a bitmoji image of her holding a huge heart. and he smiled. 

i haven’t spoken to him all week, but i’ll reach out tomorrow and let you know. i’ll call you tomorrow. love you ❤️

there was a huge part of him that wanted to call her now, that wanted to tell her he had been struggling both physically and mentally...but then he remembered the damage and the financial burden his injury left. it ruined his family. he ruined his family. and just as he was about to press call, he let out a frustrated sigh before locking his phone and tossing it not too far away from him, rolling over to attempt to get some sort of rest.

just to do the same thing. all. over. again.

#𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦: self-paras #p: a day in the life #don't @ me #this is long af #and it sucks #????: self-paras

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #434

“i hate this town, it’s so washed up, & all my friends don’t give a fuck  /  they’ll tell me that it’s just bad luck, when will i find where i fit in?”

You get a text from your ex. He/she wants to hang out. How do you respond? Admittedly, I would. Do you have a friend of the opposite sex that you secretly want to be more than friends with? No. Well, there are times where I think I WANT to like-like Girt, but I just don't. And yet he's always been there for me without fail, is super funny and kind and chill... but I think we were just friends for too long; he feels like my brother by this point in time. If your partner smoked, would that be a problem for you? If it was cigarettes, yes. Even weed (UNLESS it was for medicinal purposes and not a constant thing) I'd be iffy about. I just don't want to date a smoker. Lung damage is lung damage and weed actually has more carcinogens, and I don't want to sign myself up for all that. I don't want to watch my partner wither away from nonstop smoking and also have myself suffer from second-hand smoking. When will you next see your best friend? There's no telling. Right now I'm trying to be realistic and responsible with the money I DO ever get and put it towards more important investments, but I really do want to take a plane up there at some point. But that's also waiting until Covid is in the past. Heeeell no would I be stepping into an airport right now, even being vaccinated. How many tattoos would you like to have? Too many to count, ha ha. I want LOADS. Paint me, baby. :') Do you like your first name? I actually do. Have you ever talked to a boyfriend about an ex-boyfriend? Yes. It's kind of inevitable when you go into a new relationship, hoping it'll go well and be seriously invested, that you let your partner know "oh hey, this happened and seriously affected me to where I'm going to have 'my days.'" Greatest birthday gift you ever got? My snake Venus was technically a birthday present, though I obviously picked her out. Worst memory you have? Losing Jason. I can't say enough that the night of the breakup still doesn't feel real. First memory you can remember? My brother going down our slide into the Hurricane Floyd flood in our front yard, ha ha. I was around two, I wanna say? I don't feel like looking up the date of the hurricane. Oldest object you own? When did you get it? I'm sure that would be a stuffed animal we have stored away somewhere. Or my baby blanket, also safely tucked away. Meanest person you know? Why do you feel this way? I don't "know" Colleen anymore, but God knows she fit the bill. She was so fucking rude to people (yes, she was one of those people that bitched out store employees that have no control over things that inconvenienced her), the world revolved around her problems, she started drama with the damn grass... It's funny even picturing how she was my best friend once. My standards were lower for who I could befriend back then, but goddamn. Ever been dumped? By who? Yes, Jason. Technically Sara as well, but "dumped" seems like an unfitting term? Like we just talked it out and sorta mutually agreed that it was wiser that we weren't together at the time. Have you ever dumped someone? Why? Yes, mostly because I didn't like-like them. Juan was more so because I believed a rumor by Rachel, and Tyler, I just wasn't invested in and had NO desire to put up with the "we need to talk every five minutes" crap. Where do you buy most of your food? Wal-Mart. Last house you have been to: whose was it, and why were you there? My sister's, for my nephew's birthday party. Have you ever been a drunk driver? No, and fuck you if you've ever put others (and yourself) at risk like that. One kid you cannot stand? None that I know, and that's very few. Has anyone ever saved your life? Jason and Mom literally have. Last thing you cried about? Ha ha, I finished watching another SOMA playthrough earlier, and I will ALWAYS start to cry at the end. Without fail. Would you sacrifice your life for someone else's baby? I honestly think I would if it was a split-second decision. Tell me about your latest dream: I think my APAP mask wasn't positioned well last night, because I had a SHITLOAD of nightmares. Too many to even remember. Have you ever been in a limo? No. I've always wanted to experience that once, man. Have you ever been the maid of honor in a wedding party? No. Has anyone ever seen you naked? I was born naked, my man. Mom used to give my sister and I baths together, and I took a bath with a best friend once as a kid. Then one other person has. Do you have a calendar? If so, what is the theme of it? Not a current one, no. Nicest thing you have ever done for a complete stranger: I have no idea. Meanest thing you have ever done to a complete stranger: *shrug* Have you ever been sent to the principal's office? If so, why? And how did you feel? Yes, I think because they wanted to ask the reason behind all my morning tardies. I was soooo scared, just being a kid. Person you hope you never run into again: Colleen. Have you ever streaked? Heeeeell no. Why do you hate your ex? I don't hate any of them. What animal did you last pet or hold? Roman, my cat. What color is your hair? It's my natural brunette right now. I want to dye it SO badly. Have you ever fallen asleep in someone's arms? Yeah. Have you ever had to clean a cat box before? Yeah, seeing as I own an indoor cat. Christmas is coming. Who are you buying gifts for? In the hypothetical situation where I had the money, I'd buy things for my parents, my stepmom, my two immediate sisters, Ash's kids, as well as her husband, but only because I'd feel obligated to as he's considered a close member of the family. I'd also totally get something for Sara! When somebody intimidates you, how do you usually act around them? SCARED. I get quiet, stutter if I do talk, and possibly cry. Is your favorite singer in a band or does he or she ride solo? He was originally the singer of Black Sabbath, but he's been solo for forever now. I prefer him solo, honestly. Did your parents ever hang your old artwork up on the walls? Ohhh yes. Mom still does, ha ha. What is the weirdest obsession you’ve ever had? Nothing really "weird," I think... How long can you be in a car before wanting to get out? It depends on if I have my music or not. If I do, I can last hours, but if not, I don't really like being in the car at all. Have any songs ever inspired you to play an instrument? No. Do you ever use Pandora?No. Are you better with creative writing or writing essays? Creative writing, but I'm fine with both. What is the weirdest animal you’ve ever seen as a pet? I know OF someone who rescued I want to say a baby bobcat, or something along those lines, but I didn't know that guy personally. I don't think I've ever actually met someone with a truly *strange* pet... The most unique I've seen is probably just a chinchilla. If you had to change one, would you rather change your hair or your eyes? My eyes. I don't like them much, mainly the shape. What was your favorite computer game as a kid? I loved the various Oregon Trail games, as well as one I think was called The Amazon Trail 3. Then there was a few dinosaur games I LOVED, and then there were the classic kids' games like the Putt-Putt and Fred the Fish series. Any shows on TV that you flat out refuse to start watching? 13 Reasons Why. I don't even support that show existing. Pajamas with feet: yay or nay? NOOOOOOOO, that is so uncomfortable. What is your opinion on fruitcake? That's an even BIGGER "no." Who did you last dream about? I don't remember. Do you have trouble remembering important things? Yes. .-. I barely remember anything. Which animal can you imitate the best? I dunno? Have you bought any drugs this month? I don't do drugs, so. Have you ever set foot in a tanning bed? Nope, never will. Do you know the Soulja Boy dance? Ha ha, I did as a kid. My then-best friend, younger sister, and I wanted to learn it. I don't remember it now, that's for sure. What is the best ice cream flavor? Ben and Jerry's "Phish Food" is GODLY. Wallpaper on your computer's desktop? Teddy, my late dog. Do you clean when you’re upset? Hell no, I do the opposite: nothing. Do you sleep with the door open or closed? It stays open. My cat would pitch a fit otherwise. Do you know anyone who has actually been in an alcohol or drug related crash? Yes, actually. It was incredibly tragic; the both of them were high (maybe drunk, idr for sure), and my friend was driving with her best friend in the passenger seat. They crashed, and said friend's best friend died. For YEARS she would share pictures of them together on Facebook, "talking" to her, and it was just so heartbreaking. I doubt she's forgiven herself to this day, but she seems to have mostly moved on the best she could, being married with a daughter now. Have you ever gotten a professional massage? No, and I do NOT want one. I don't want some random stranger touching me in ANY way. Do you have a good relationship with your first love? No. We haven't talked in years, so maybe he feels no hatred for me at this point, but I do for myself. I don't hate him at all. Do you feel like you have life figured out? bitch hell no What would you do if you were faced with an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy (at your current age)? Was I raped? I'd almost certainly abort because I would be traumatized as FUCK. If it was my own fault, I think I'd go through with the pregnancy, but give the baby up for adoption. There is no way I could raise a kid right now. Or probably ever. Water or Gatorade? I don't like either, really, but I HATE Gatorade. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It's been pierced twice, and I'm thinking of getting it redone again, but this time use a hoop instead of a stud to keep the damn piercing from falling out and closing in my sleep. Have you ever slapped someone? On the arm as a kid. That doesn't excuse it, though. Who are the pictures of in the room? I have a lot of posters, but no real photographs of anyone. Have your parents ever smoked pot? Dad did a lot of drugs before I was born, but Mom's never touched anything. I think. Would you ever consider moving to a different country? I'd love to live in Canada, if that didn't entail leaving my family. What is your favourite food from your culture? Cheeseburgers, alsdf;alwer Do you know any pick-up lines in a foreign language? No. What degree are you or will you pursue while in college? I've dropped out of college three times. I am never going back to major in anything. I changed my major quite a few times while I was there. Favorite arcade game? I don't really have one. One of my life goals is to go to an arcade that has Silent Hill: The Arcade, though. There are very few throughout the world, and it looks fun. Would other people consider your sense of humor inappropriate? I don't see how. Some inappropriate things can make me laugh, but it's definitely not my favorite form of humor, and I myself don't really make jokes of that sort. Who is your biggest celebrity crush right now? Mark Fischbach. :'') What are they famous for? He's a big YouTuber, aND WILL ALSO BE A MAIN ACTOR IN A SHOW NEXT YEAR. LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO. Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend? No, I would NOT stand for that bullshit. Do you have any gay family members? I know my mom's... cousin I want to say is gay. Somebody related to her is. Was your first kiss romantic? I feel like it was. What are you most likely to go to jail for? Pirating shit. Well, can you even be locked up for downloading minor shit? Shows what I know. Have you ever liked someone that was in a relationship with someone else? Boy, have I. Would you ever get a boob job? When (or if...) I lose all the weight I want, I can almost guarantee a breast lift will be something I'd want. Certain things happen when you lose a shitload of weight alsdkf;alkwe Have you ever tried to break up anyone because you liked one of them? Not intentionally. What would you think if you found out your ex was gay? If we're talking THE ex, safe to say I'd be shocked. Did you ever think someone didn’t like you, but come to find out they really did? It's weird, I've felt both ways with Girt? Like there were times I was pretty much 100% certain he liked me, but I'd also be like "nah, no way, he sees me as a sister." Turns out he like-liked me. Are you worried about anything right now? I can't possibly recall the last time I WASN'T worried about something. When you are home alone, do you still close the door when you shower? I don't shower when I'm home alone because I'm afraid of ever fainting and busting my ass again. What noise do you hear? I'm currently listening to "All Signs Point To Lauderdale" by A Day to Remember, and I can also hear my fan going. Do you go online everyday? Pretty much without fail. It'll probably be a cold day in Hell before I willingly don't come online, ha ha.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''all signs point to lauderdale'' by a day to remember

[popwasabi]

“The Matrix Reloaded” deserves a re-watch in 2020

Here’s a burning hot take for, y’all; “The Matrix Reloaded” is not bad actually!

In fact, it’s more than not bad, it’s actually pretty good and perhaps a bit misunderstood by the fans.

Now, I’m not here to tell you it’s the best Matrix film. That honor will remain always and forever with the first movie, as it remains not just one of the best action films of all-time but one of the best science fiction films ever, period. It’s a classic and simply one of my all-time favorite films.

(Not to mention turned me into a Rage Against The Machine fan.)

But somehow, over the course of my lifetime, you know what movie I have watched exponentially more than “The Matrix?” The fucking “Matrix Reloaded!”

I used to think maybe it was an ironic infatuation. To a certain extent, I think it still is, as its overly indulgent action, bad lines at times, cringey new characters, and over the top moments can make it about as comical as many so bad it’s good movies. But growing up time can change perceptions, sometimes for the better, and can help you see things in new ways that you didn’t before and “The Matrix Reloaded,” especially this year, was one of them for me.

(My plans vs 2020)

I could defend the much controversial sequel by going in on its ambitious action film-making (the car chase is still my all-time favorite in any movie), pulse-pounding score, or its eye-popping cinematography that, honestly, holds up even to today’s standards but I think these are all things that even the film’s detractors generally agree on. 

No, I’m going to defend this film by talking about its most controversial scene: The Architect room.

I can hear the groans already and I don’t blame you. I found this scene preposterous and mightily confusing when I first saw it.

“The One is actually a part of the Machines’ system?? WTF!?”

(I remember having a similar feeling after playing Mass Effect 3...)

To be fair, its set up is a bit muddled, given the clunky script and pacing issues of the movie but when you start thinking about the message more deeply, given current events, and its relation to the real world it hits about as hard and fits as neatly as the first film’s more positive message.

The first Matrix film has a pretty dark setup, obviously. Neo finds out that he’s a part of gigantic computer program meant to create the illusion of free will for humanity while they are quite literally eaten for power by the Machines like cattle. Of course, Neo discovers he’s more than just another human connected to The Matrix but a prophesized messiah who has the ability to combat the system beyond its considerable control. By the end of the film he fulfills his destiny by becoming The One and beginning a new revolution against the Machines that control the human race.

(And looking fucking cool and totally 90s while doing it!)

It’s a pretty positive and uplifting story when you really break it down. It shows the viewer the lengths at which power tries to maintain its control and the Machines are a worthy avatar for this metaphor, but it also shows that power can be fought against when someone begins to empower themselves. When Neo says he will “show you a world where anything is possible” at the end its an earned moment of catharsis for not just him but the audience as well. We begin to start to believe in hope and beating the system too.

“The Matrix Reloaded” however goes several steps further showing that power can maintain its control in far more nefarious ways. Throughout the film Neo is told about the illusion of control and choice by characters like The Oracle and the, admittedly cringey, Merovingian. It feels strange at first because Neo is supposedly someone who is above the system but you can tell there is sense of jadedness, with some optimism of course, when The Oracle explains his role in saving Zion, like someone who has seen someone try to do this before, and The Merovingian simply mocks him for being another in a long line of “predecessors” who is completely “out of control.”

But then Neo finally does get to the Architect after being led there by The Key Maker and it’s here he learns his true nature; that he is the sixth in a long line of previous “Ones” in the Matrix and a part of The Machine’s control. He is less a prophet and more just another cog in the machine meant to lead humanity in one direction over and over again in order to create an illusion of free will for the resistance, the same way The Matrix does its human cattle.

Neo was a part of their plan and had been from the start.

(In case y’all need a refresher...)

There were tons of fans, including myself at one point, who couldn’t square with this strange narrative turn. Like Morpheus at the end of the film, there was refusal to believe it. It seemingly rewrote how one could view the first film and Neo’s role in it.

It changed the way a lot of people could see the positivity of the first film and understandably that could, and did, make a lot of people upset. Neo wasn’t sent to save humanity; he was there to keep them in line. It was like saying “actually Emperor Palpatine always wanted Luke Skywalker to blow up the Death Star.”

(I mean he does say this a lot though...)

But “The Matrix” was always about the lengths at which power works to maintain its control over the masses and “Reloaded” asks how can a corrupt and evil system be a part of the solution? How can it be reformed?

It can’t.

Way back in 2008, I cast my first vote as an eligible American for Barack Obama for president. Like many millennials at the time I found his mantra of “hope and change” sincere and uplifting and I truly felt the country was going to take a turn for the better the night he was inaugurated. For a moment it really did feel like things would be different after eight years of Bush.

Fast forward to 2011 however, and things changed dramatically for myself when I found out about the drones.

I’m aware of the fact that in leadership positions hard choices are made but after spending the previous decade vociferously calling out the Bush Administration for what they did in the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars this was a truly rude awakening for me. Combine this with finding out about him continuing Bush era tax cuts, re-upping the Patriot Act, the mass deportations, the major corporate donors, his mishandling of Flint, and The Standing Rock Crisis it became clear Obama was just as much a part of the machine as Bush was.

(Also, no matter how much you hate Trump, DO NOT participate in the the gas-lighting of this man’s record...) 

Now, I can already hear the pitchforks picking up and I’m not here to tell you that the Obama presidency didn’t have its moments or that it was worse than what we have now BUT this does not excuse what would be considered awful behavior by liberals under any conservative president.

Each Democratic presidency or nomination I’ve seen in my lifetime, from Clinton to Obama, has always touted themselves as a chance to “fix America” and bring “hope and change” to a largely corrupt system. But neither of these presidencies really changed much of what the previous conservative administrations did, in fact in some ways they got worse. Minimum wage hasn’t risen in over a decade, we still have the world’s largest prison population by far, the wealth gap has only INCREASED regardless of who held the White House, and need I remind some of you Black Lives Matter started under the Obama administration.

At some point the problem goes beyond just conservative stonewalling and political impasse. You can’t blame everything on Mitch McConnell (though a lot of it can too, admittedly). The system is behaving exactly as its supposed to because corrupt people hold power.

(They’re not laughing with you, they are laughing AT you...)

The extremely cynical Biden-Harris ticket we got going right now is being pitched, more or less, the same way as a "fight to fix everything terrible” that Trump has done. Look, I’m not going to tell you Trump hasn’t been terrible because that should be obvious to EVERYONE at this point, but when you have Wall Street goons actively cheering the announcement of the Democratic party nomination, a DNC that is running more conservative speakers in its first day than Latinx across the entire event, you have to wonder to yourself if they are really “The One.”

(A reminder that “Never Trump” Republicans are not your friends either...)

Again, I’m not saying things can’t be “better” right now under a Democratic White House or that some communities would benefit greatly from a change in leadership BUT the bar is FUCKING LOW and the truth of the matter is people WILL be hurt under the next administration regardless of who it is and framing it as “privileged” to think otherwise is actually quite privileged itself.

There are people who can’t wait for medicare for all. There are people who can’t wait for sentencing and prison reform. There are people who cannot survive another wave of US imperialism overseas.

We are being guided to the same predetermined destination that The Architect gives Neo and its what makes all this so aggravating for many.

“The Matrix Reloaded” shows Neo that he is simply another system of control for the afflicted masses but what makes the final moments of the film important is that he chooses to stop playing its game. When The Architect gives him the choice of the door that guarantees the “salvation” of the human race but in bonded servitude to the Machines and the door to make the supposed “selfish” decision to save Trinity from death but doom humanity to extinction, he does this fully expecting Neo to make the same choice every other One did before him did.

But Neo doesn’t, he goes through the door to save Trinity and for a chance to destroy the system in another way. Neo decides to break the cycle even if it might have catastrophic consequences. He challenges The Architect on whether he would be willing to allow Neo any chance at any other outcome and calls his bluff. It’s what makes him a hero and in a strange way gives “Reloaded” a positive ending as well.

(And again, just looking cool as hell while doing it.)

Now, with the way the next movie ends you could make the argument that the cycle continues and this theme gets contradicted but I would argue it’s a bit more ambiguous than that and with the fourth film supposedly on its way in the coming years there is a chance for a more conclusive and satisfying ending. This write-up is strictly arguing the message of the second film anyways.

What a viewer should get on further review of “The Matrix Reloaded” is that corrupt systems have more insidious ways of maintaining control than we may be able to accept. Wall Street goons wouldn’t allow a consistent formidable opposition party to run against them every year, it’s why they are deep in both red AND blue pockets. It’s why campaign financing is out of control. It’s why ultimately both wings of our government are pro-surveillance, pro-big money donors, pro-US exceptionalism/imperialism and the only real difference comes down to mostly minor minutia between the two to maintain their illusion of choice.

In the end to a certain extent, I still believe in the system, given that I donate money and support various leftist causes, progressive primary challenges, and reelections around the country in hopes they run a real left wing someday. However, each year, and frankly each month at the rate we’re going, I’ve grown more cynical about it. At best it is incremental change and at worst its ultimately empty power against the larger juggernaut of corrupt politics throughout our government.

(Me desperately trying to avoid the relentless bullshit of this year.)

“Reloaded” deposits that in order to break the cycle you have to make a choice not accounted for by the system. That in order to truly change anything, as silly and as obvious as it sounds, you have to do something different. Voting for people who better represent your beliefs much more fully and refusing to vote for ones who don’t is one way but as I stated in my “Black Sails” write-up the more active third option should never be off the table.

Changing the world shouldn’t come down to a false binary choice like the ones the Machines gave Neo at the end of “Reloaded.” And while, for the record, I’m not necessarily against people making the lesser of two evils choice again, people need to stop ignoring the ways in which corruption keeps its power and start having honest looks at those who call themselves “The One” who will make things right.

If this entire year hasn’t convinced you of that yet, I don’t know what will and the sooner we understand this the sooner we can start a real “revolution” in this country’s cynical politics.

Until then The Machines will continue to win...

*Me getting away from the liberal bullshit that will likely be tossed at me over this*

#The Matrix #The Matrix Reloaded #the matrix revolutions #Matrix #the wachowskis #The Wachowski sisters #Trans rights #LGBTQ #politics #George floyd #black lives matter #BLM #leftist #black sails #keanu reeve #carrie anne moss #laurence fishburne #agent smith #movie #film #review #Pop Wasabi #essay #obama #bush #clinton #mass effect #mass effect 3

[callowed]

☻☺♪★✄♈♓

Headcanons- Open

//Oh man this one got real long

☻:  three things that make my muse sad 

Failure. Every piece of Tyrian is built to kill. It’s what he’s good at, it’s what he loves. He took it to extremes, let it consume him. It’s all he is. His purpose in life is to be a weapon, he exists for the sole purpose to be used to harm others. So when he fails in his duties, he feels absolutely worthless. His only value, in his eyes, comes from his ability to hurt. You do not expect a knife to do anything but cut, and you expect it to cut well. If he fails to do the one thing he was put in this world to do, then..... what reason does he have to exist at all? A knife that can’t cut is nothing more than scrap metal, garbage.

Denial. He sees the little seeds of darkness inside of people. He likes to nurture them, to encourage them to indulge in their darker impulses. He’s a firm believer that happiness comes from being comfortable with yourself. Knowing what you enjoy, being honest with it, and pursuing it. To see people deny these parts of themselves feels like holding back. It feels like giving up, not letting yourself live your life to the fullest. To see the dull lives that people lead, the way they grit their teeth and simply allow things to continue at such a mediocre, dissatisfying pace... It saddens him. It’s as though these people are already dead.

Neglect. He knows he is not designed for being loved. Undeserving of tenderness. He wishes he could cut it all out, to just leave a monster behind that knows nothing but carnage and euphoria. He wishes it didn’t hurt so much to be ignored, when he knows a weapon lies forgotten until needed. He’s so sure that’s what he is, an instrument of destruction; so the feeling of longing, of wanting to be seen or held, feels like something he shouldn’t have. It feels like a mistake. And it makes the sadness he feels just that much worse, thinking that he shouldn’t be allowed to be sad about something like this.

☺:  three things that make my muse happy

Bloodshed. Tyrian is a sadist in its purest, most concentrated form. Feeling flesh tear under his blades, the smell of a city on fire, the taste of blood, a symphony of screams, it’s ecstasy. It’s a thirst that drives him, controls him, and he sees no reason to stop it from doing so when succumbing to it feels so good.

Love. As confused of an understanding that he has of it, Tyrian is very driven by love. He serves Salem because he loves Her. He chose his place in life because he loves doing what he does. When Tyrian loves something, he gives every last piece of himself to it. He loves intensively, obsessively; he wants to drown himself in it. Let it consume his life.

Utility. This is what it means to be loved. To be used is to be needed. For the talents he can provide to have value to someone, for him to be considered an asset, is the closest approximation to love he allows himself. It’s what makes sense to him. He only knows how to break things, so the best he can hope for is to be seen as very good at breaking things.

♪:  three songs that remind me of my muse

I have a whole playlist for him, but I’ll pick three of my favorites.

Ready to Die- Andrew WK For obvious reasons, but I like the juxtaposition of aggressive metal instruments playing a very upbeat tune about killing people.

2econd-2ight-2eer- Will Wood I only let myself pick one Will Wood song for this and this is my choice. “The devil made me do it, but I also kind of wanted to” is literally his entire character.

Last Caress- Misfits Violent and obscene, and addresses death like a person; calling it sweet and lovely and waiting for its embrace.

★:  a wish my muse has

Sometimes, Tyrian wishes he could be more. More than just death, something a little more human. Something deeper, with pieces capable of loving. But he can’t. He can never move past it. He craves it, it’s not just a part of him... it’s all he is. Without it, there would be nothing left. And he loves it too much to want to let it go, to try to fight it when he knows he will inevitably fail and have the dark pull him in again.

Sometimes he wishes he could have something softer. But most of the time, he wishes he could just kill that softness. Carve it out of himself so that there’s no more doubt, no more feeling besides pain, nothing left of him but claws and fangs and barbs and knives.

✄:  is my muse creative?

Yes, and in all the worst ways. When it comes to twisting people’s emotions against them, or causing as much widespread panic as possible, or simply imagining all the different ways to torture a person, very few people are creative as Tyrian. He’s very good at adapting, improvising a plan on the fly, and he’s far better at it than plotting up something beforehand. He’s the most creative person you’ll ever meet when it comes to bloody fantasies.

♈:  the most daring thing your muse has ever done

He outdoes himself on this front constantly, but a few moments come to mind of him staring death right in the face and grinning.

Salem’s inner circle is the most informed on Her intentions, Her truth, but there are some others less important that She has twisted the arm of, manipulated, or otherwise blackmailed into acting as informants. The Grimm are Her eyes in the countryside, but these informants can be vital in providing information about more populated areas. Tyrian has had to meet with some before; sometimes for leads in his hunt for maidens or huntsmen, but at other times simply to scare them into obedience when Her Grace catches wind of their wavering loyalties.

It was one such time he found himself meeting in a seedy bar in Anima. Nearly all the dealings here were shady, and nobody’s hands were clean enough to bother batting an eye at any sort of questionable behavior, so long as they didn’t cause any property damage. He sat at the opposite end of a table with the informant in question- A human man, late thirties. Unspeakably plain-looking and unassuming. Perfect for gathering intel undetected. Or at least, he would be, if he were to dismount his high horse. Tyrian bit his tongue and refrained from tearing the man apart at his insolence, the sheer nonchalant disrespect the man showed his Goddess. He knew it came from a place of ignorance. If he truly knew what She was, he wouldn’t say such ridiculous things.

However, the man’s general lack of understanding of his situation was beginning to get on Tyrian’s nerves. He wanted compensation for his work. A reward.

“I don’t think you fully grasp your situation here, Cole Blackwell,” He spoke with a sharp tone, using the man’s full name to add weight to it as he leaned across the table slightly, staring him down. “Your reward is your continued existence. You are in a very poor position to ask for a prize. It is either your cooperation... or your life.” Tyrian’s eye’s bore into the spy, the glint of malice and bloodlust evident in them without him having to say a word. The fool continued to blunder.

“From where I’m sitting...” Cole kept his voice steady, although it was clearly an effort on his part. Tyrian noticed his arms shift under the table. “There’s a third option.” With that, he reached his hand out from below to reveal a gun, and pointed it in Tyrian’s direction. The faunus didn’t so much as flinch. It took everything in him not to break into a fit of cackles and draw attention to their little confrontation in their corner of the bar. A few restrained chuckles shook his shoulders despite his best efforts.

Tyrian leaned even further forward, licking his lips and pressing his forehead against the barrel of the gun, his crazed stare never once straying from the little rebel’s eyes.

“Then do it,” he hissed with a wide grin, “I’ll even drop my aura for you.” And sure enough, Tyrian drew a clawed finger across his face rough enough to leave a mark that noticeably did not heal. He pressed his head into the gun again, relishing in the way he man’s hand trembled slightly in a mixture of fear, confusion, and uncertainty. “You know a bullet in my brain won’t stop this.” Tyrian’s voice was low and dangerous as he stared the man in the eyes like he was daring him to blink first. “She knows where you live. Perhaps if your own life isn’t enough to convince you, we should see if you find theirs more valuable. Two girls, isn’t it? Holly and Ivy?” The color in Cole’s face drained at the mention of the names, his steely facade cracking into a picturesque depiction of absolute dread. Tyrian chuckled darkly. “My Fair Lady would be very displeased to lose me, and I wouldn’t be around to convince Her not to take from you whatever She deems fit as..... retribution.” The man’s hand trembled. Tyrian pulled away with a smirk, never breaking eye contact as he licked the barrel of the gun just to rub salt in the wound. The informant’s eyes were so beautiful as they were, filled to the brim with fear and disgust. He lowered the gun in defeat.

“I knew I could trust you to listen to reason, mister Blackwell~” Tyrian spoke cordially and cheerfully as if he hadn’t had a gun to his head mere seconds ago, as if he didn’t just threaten the man’s family.

“Get fucked,” The man spat, his voice dripping with disdain and reluctance. A sweet sound. “You’re sick.”

A high-pitched cackle was unavoidable at the comment, Tyrian no longer caring to hold it back. As he gathered himself again, he replied, “And you’re in over your head. I suppose we’re both beyond saving then.”

He stood up from his seat, leaning close to the shocked, broken man once more to speak lowly in his ear.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, as always, Cole Blackwell. I’ll see you soon~” his excitement was ominous, and he left the poor man alone to marinate in the darkness of his reality as he sauntered away. Sure, he didn’t have to drop his aura to make a point, he didn’t have to cut it so close. Grey’s finger could have slipped at any second, or perhaps he could have grown a spine and pulled the trigger on purpose. Tyrian simply kissed death because he wanted to. For the fun of it. It’s part of what made his job so ceaselessly entertaining, to be so close to death in so many different ways without letting it take him just yet, was a simple delight he relished in often.

♓:  my muse’s biggest secret 

I answered one on the previous ask, but as a bonus I will give you one that isn’t so much a huge secret as much as it is something that he would never, ever tell anyone. He hates people who grab or tug at his tail without permission, it’s incredibly rude and objectifying and reminds him too much of his time in the circus when he just had to sit and take it. However. He loves having it pulled near the base. He will never admit this, and anyone who grabs at his tail to find out is likely to get stung unless they are on the very short list of people allowed to do so.

#;take a hammer and fix the canon [headcanon] #//this one uhhh took a while lmao #bambino-muses

[saywhatjessie]

Written for Kathleen for the History Huh? Holiday Exchange! 1.8k (Ao3)

“Yes, Alex, of course I’ve heard Mariah Carrey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’.” Henry said, rolling his eyes and tapping at Alex’s leg where it was propped next to him. “I am gay, you know.”

“And thank God for that.” Alex said, rubbing a hand up over Henry’s hair. “But how am I supposed to know which pieces of American culture you’ve experienced? You didn’t know about ‘Get Low’! I don’t trust any of the education provided to you by that snotty English prep school.”

Henry laughed, softly. “Ah, yes: forget the European history and international policy I was educated in. If there’s no American pop music on the syllabus, the whole system’s a crock.”

“You get it,” Alex said, nodding solemnly. His face only broke when Henry snorted.

“I don’t think most Christmas music is strictly American, though.” Henry argued. “I’d say it’s such a specific genre it’s mostly universally shared.”

Alex grinned. “Let’s test that.”

 He lifted his pelvis so he could reach his phone that was tucked into his back pocket and caused Henry to whine at him, disgruntled by Alex’s squirming.

They were huddled together on the couch in Alex’s room in the White House, their New York brownstone not yet ready for them. Alex was sitting sideways on the couch, back against the armrest. One of his legs was extended down the couch to make room for Henry who was laying on his side between Alex and the back of the couch, but mostly on top of Alex. Alex kept one socked foot pressed into the cushions to keep them from toppling off the couch onto the floor.

As twined together as they were, Alex reaching for his phone definitely disturbed Henry’s whole body.

“Oh, shut up,” Alex told him. “We’re doing science.”

He got his phone in front of him, petting over Henry’s head again to apologize for the disruption, and pulled up Spotify.

“Consider this your official Christmas education.”

Henry snorted again, resting his head against Alex’s chest. “I wouldn’t say this is–”

“And you’re shutting up again.” Alex said, pressing play and resting the phone on his knee. “We’re listening now.”

Out of Alex’s phone speaker came some high melodic bell sounds followed immediately by a female singer doing a vocal run of ‘Oh yeah!’

Henry hummed. “Britney Spears.”

Alex looked down at the top of his head. “You know this one?”

“No,” Henry admitted in a grumble. “But any queer worth their salt knows Britney when they hear her.”

Alex chuckled. That was valid.

The song got to the chorus and Alex couldn’t help but mouth along to the lyrics.

 Santa, can you hear me?

I have been so good this year.

And all I want is one thing:

tell me my true love is near!

He’s all I want, just for me,

underneath my Christmas tree.

I’ll be waiting here.

Santa, that’s my only wish this year.

 Henry rumbled a soft laugh, burying his face in Alex’s sweatshirt. “Love, that is incredibly sappy.”

Alex swatted him, lightly. “Leave Britney Alone.”

Henry laughed again, grinding his forehead into Alex’s sternum and Alex just grinned, bringing his hand up to rest in Henry’s hair.

When that song ended, a new one started.

“Fuck yes,” Alex said, with feeling. “Keeping it in the 90’s.”

“Dear, you were just barely alive in the 90’s.”

“Shhhh!” Alex shushed him. “*NSYNC is singing!”

Henry was right: Alex was born in 1998 and, therefore, most of these songs were just a little bit before his time. But he did have an older sister.

“I do, actually, know this one,” Henry said, humming along to the chorus. Though why he didn’t sing the lyrics, Alex didn’t know. It was literally just ‘Merry Christmas’ over and over again.

“I’m shocked that it’s a boy band that makes its way across the pond to you,” Alex said.

Henry rolled his eyes. “I had an older sister of the nineties as well, Alex.”

Alex got bored of the song halfway through (it really was repetitive) and picked up his phone to find a new song.

Most of the songs Spotify had picked for them were in the same vein: 90’s and early 2000’s stars singing poppy Christmas songs. But a little bit of scrolling found him something truly incredible.

 “It’s Christmas in Hollywood, 

Santa’s back up in the hood, 

so meet me under the mistletoe,

let’s fu-u-uck”

 Henry burst out laughing, his convulsions almost enough to shove Alex to the floor. “What is that?”

“Hollywood Undead!” Alex answered, merrily. “They’re not good and this song is actually terrible but it kind of slaps?”

Henry could barely hear any of the lyrics over his laughing but he did manage the jolly voice of Santa on the track saying “If you guide my sleigh I’ll let you fuck my wife.” And that just sent him into a whole new bout of hysterics.

“We should play this at our holiday dinner,” Alex suggested, as the song faded out.

“Oh, yes,” Henry said, choking on a couple late chuckles. “This is the best representation of sharing between our cultures I can imagine.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too,” Alex answered, a stray giggle betraying him.

They managed to laugh through the next song which was someone’s cover of “Santa Baby” but it wasn’t Eartha Kitt so Alex didn’t think it was any real loss.

It wasn’t until a certain guitar riff that Henry shushed him. “Quiet, darling, Darren Criss is singing.”

Alex groaned, dropping his head back against the armrest. “God, you and that guy.”

Henry shushed him again.

Alex rolled his eyes and picked up his phone to look at the song title. “Extraordinary Merry Christmas” from the Glee soundtrack.

And, yes, there was Lea Michele’s voice harmonizing now.

Alex understood, obscurely, the appeal of Glee. The music. The drama. The beautiful people. June had been obsessed with it in the early days and he’d seen a few episodes but he could never really get into it.

Henry, though, was a card carrying Gleek. Which was absolutely absurd but also, weirdly, totally expected. He was totally the type to eat that corny shit up.

Also, he was obsessed with Darren Criss, who played Kurt’s boyfriend Blaine on Glee.

“I guess this song, is kind of alright,” Alex admitted.

Henry turned wild eyes on him. “Do you not hear him? He’s incredible.”

Alex rolled his eyes again. “He’s not even the real Harry Potter,” Alex grumbled.

Henry shushed him.

When the song was over, Alex pulled the phone up and tapped out another search.

He made Henry get up before he hit play.

Henry groaned. “Why.”

“Because we’re going to dance like the worst and most terribly cheesy couple in the entire world,” Alex answered, promptly. “And I get to be Blaine.”

“Wha–” Henry started but then Alex hit play and the opening notes for the Glee version of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ started. 

Henry’s eyes lit up but he frowned. “Let me be Blaine, my voice is deeper than yours.”

“Too late!” Alex said because it was Henry’s cue.

“I really can’t stay,” Henry sang falsetto and completely off-pitch.

Alex tried not to laugh over his line. “But Baby, it’s cold outside.”

“I’ve got to go ‘way.”

“But baby it’s cold outside!”

They swayed in a circle, arms around each other, trading lines and trying not to laugh at Henry’s absolutely horrendous attempt at falsetto. Alex didn’t know all the words and Henry’s voice kept cracking but they got through the whole song with minimal trouble.

They were laughing to themselves by the end, Henry ducking his head to bring Alex into a long kiss. Alex hummed into it.

The phone kept playing another Christmas song of another slow-ish tempo so they kept dancing, not wanting to stop now they’ve started.

Henry pulled away, resting his forehead on Alex’s. “Why did you get to be Blaine?”

Alex laughed. “Because he’s your favorite. And I wanted to be your favorite.”

Henry kissed him again, humming. “It’s not just because you wanted the boy part?”

“The point of that version is that they’re both the boy part.”

Henry smiled a small smile and leaned down to kiss him again.

They stayed kissing for the rest of the song, and then the opening notes for “Baby It’s Cold Outside” started again, this time the Zooey Deschanell version.

Henry pulled away again. “You know when Kurt and Blaine sang ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ on Glee…” Henry started, licking his lips. “That was the first scene of television I’d ever seen that had a positive and sweetly romantic portrayal of two men.”

Alex pulled his head back a little bit to look at him. “Really?”

Henry nodded. “Every other gay thing on television was always very sexual. Or completely neutered. I was a 13-year old kid having innocent crushes on boys but there was nothing on tv that looked like what I was feeling. Not until that scene.”

Alex grinned, leaning up to plant a kiss on Henry’s jaw. “That’s adorable.”

Henry growled a little in his throat, but turned his head so it was easier for Alex to kiss him.

Alex kissed him on the mouth, pulling away with a smile. “Weird, though, that the song is about date rape.”

Alex grinned wider as he watched Henry’s whole face turn red.

“You have to take the song in context!” Henry hissed. They stopped dancing. “In the 1940’s, it was inappropriate for a woman to be at a man’s house very late without a chaperone! You have to listen to the song with the context of a society in which women are expected to reject men’s advances whether they actually want to or not, and therefore it’s normal and expected for a lady’s gentleman companion to pressure her despite her protests, because he knows she would have to say that whether or not she meant it, and if she really wants to stay she won’t be able to justify doing so unless he offers her an excuse.” Henry was breathing heavily. “The song’s a game of cat and mouse! She even says ‘At least I’m gonna say that I tried’ like she really wants to stay but she knows what people will say if she does.” Henry was sporting the angry eyebrows now and Alex was delighted. “It is disrespectful and historically inaccurate to reduce the song in that way.”

Alex reached up to rub his thumb against the crease of Henry’s eyebrows. “You enormous nerd.”

Alex leaned up and kissed the pout on Henry’s mouth. Henry held firm in his rage for a count of two before he melted and kissed Alex back.

They kissed all through Christina Aguilera’s rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.

#Oops I wrote a thing #Red White & Royal Blue #Red White and Royal Blue #rwrb #rwarb #Firstprince #first prince #I also made the graphic lol

[serendipitioussurvival]

Bind Me - Yours Eternal

Peter Hale, one of the last three descendants of the former Hale pack in North America, was a suspicious and manipulative man. He survived being burned alive in his home when eighteen others did not, he had enacted the revenge killings of those that had been responsible, and then he had survived being set aflame again. Then he had his throat slashed by his nephew in the middle of a spar session, been shot multiple times by Hunters coming after him, and then the literal disembowelment from Berserkers. As a Werewolf he was able to heal through almost all of this with little to no scar, no evidence to the trials and tribulations he’s faced, but it was because he had been through so much that he was so suspicious and untrusting of the general populous, human or not.

His family had burned because his nephew had been tricked and the pack emissary did not have strong enough wordings of their territory. He had been killed again because his beta had been tricked into thinking that, by killing the alpha that had bitten you, you could reverse the transformation. His nephew had slashed his throat while training because he thought, childishly so, that he deserved the Alpha spark instead of his ‘murdering psychotic uncle’. His Emissary, similarly, failed to have the proper wardings or abilities needed for something so powerful as the Hale Spark, and so the Berserkers had gotten passed the wardings once more and made wine of his insides. 

Needless to say Peter rarely ever trusted anyone, let alone anyone that would be in his pack or be his pack Emissary. Especially the pack emissary, it was why he had found himself searching through supernatural lore and texts as to how he could bind another life to his - just as insurance, at the very least. It took him a year before he found anything of note, it was a year well spent for the information he discovered. 

Not only could he bind a life to his, but he could summon a being of power that would fit the Emissary role he needed as well as have influence over how his pack functioned. It took him a week to get the desired materials and another to wait for the blood moon. The ritual went perfect, like most of everything Peter did, but nature was cruel to Peter and rarely ever gave him a break. 

“A demon,” he blanched, staring at the pitch-black eyes that stared at him from the twig of a female in front of him. “the figurehead of humanity for my pack,” could one kill Fate? He’d try, by the gods he would try because this was cruel, it was too much. Had he truly not suffered enough to have not even a single break? Sure he wasn’t a good man - and he had plenty of deaths shrouding him, but what did he truly do to deserve this? “Is a demon.” 

“Buddy, no offense, but between the two of us I’ve got more humanity than you.” his eyes narrowed dangerously, ignoring the way its voice was just a tad husky in its attempts to stifle its amusement. “It’s chill though, I’m not the average demon. So, what’d you summoned me for? You did the ritual so you know about the whole ‘equivalent exchange’ bullshit.” a demon with a mouth, maybe it wouldn’t be truly terrible. 

“Our lives are tied until your service to me is complete,” the corner of its peach pink lips curled into a smirk. 

“Till death do us part,” the smirk dropped into a frown, “you’re pretty famous in Hell chief, don’t suppose you remember your time in Hell?” he shook his head in answer, “damn, well okay. Anyway, you need an Emissary and, while that normally goes against a Demon’s very nature I’m not a normal Demon.” 

“You’ve said that twice,” she didn’t look like much, no horns or tail, no red skin tone - in fact, she was actually quite pale with moles dotting her moonglow skin like constellations - and she - not it anymore as she was most definitely feminine, naked as she was - was at least half his width with maybe an inch on him height-wise. “So what kind of Demon are you?” 

“In a long, boring history lesson that holds no true amusement, I’m a Prince.” he eyed her very feminine breasts with a raised brow. “Like I said a, long, boring history lesson. If you ever remember your time in Hell you’ll remember it.” now both brows were raised. “Whatever, want me as your Emissary or should I take your soul again?” 

Peter Hale was a suspicious man, he rarely trusted anyone, but this summoned being whom he bound his life to was - legitimately - his last option. She would protect his life with hers, and her abilities would protect his pack, for however long her nature allowed her to because that is what he summoned her for. If she weren’t able to meet at least one of those criteria then she wouldn’t have been able to answer the summons. He truly only had one option. 

“I accept.” The summoning rune burned into the ground and filled the air with the scent of brimstone and - strangely enough - sandalwood. When the rune was completely gone the black bled from her sclera, exposing the creamy-white and looking a tad odd with the pitch of her iris until it, too, bled away and revealed gold. Not a whiskey amber, not a wheat brown, not even beta gold - though hers was just a tad lighter - but true, heated gold eyes. “Do I have to name you?” 

“What, like a puppy? Fuck off, my name is Stiles.” his brow rose yet again and he worked to temper his anger at the partial lie. “Look, names are power, Peter. If someone were to know a Demon or a Prince’s true name they would hold complete power over them. I’ll tell you it someday, if you’re a good boy.” ah, dog jokes, how tasteless. 

“Well then, come with me. I’ll have to get you a wardrobe and identification.” he expected her to want Goth clothing or all black or, or something that insisted what her true nature was. Instead, she wanted worse. 

“Plaid? Plaid?! I think not you tasteless creature!” oh he was getting nasty looks from the other customers, “I relented on the monstrosity of a cell phone, I relented on the scentless soaps and shampoos, I even relented on the goddamned gaming consoles, I will not relent for plaid.” when the walked out of the store it was with three plaid button-ups, two overalls, and then six different bags of appropriate clothing befitting the role of the Hale pack Emissary. 

Stiles, of course, wore the plaid and overalls first with a triumphant grin and mischief twinkling in her gold eyes, daring him to say anything. She had a healthy appetite he approved of, at least, and more often than not would cook meals for him - she was all too happy to spend his money (and in truth he was all too happy to let her when it evoked a strange, content feeling in him and his wolf) and often made changes to his suite that he begrudgingly approved of. 

It took a single month before his pack - a whopping nine people - had situated themselves in Beacon Hills California and finally got to be introduced to the new Emissary. 

Peter Hale was a suspicious man, he rarely trusted anyone, but watching her as she surveyed each of his pack before sitting them down made him think that maybe, just maybe he could trust his life to her, and not just because of their pact. 

“Alright, Education time kiddos.” Peter was able to hide his amusement from her but not from the other werewolves in his pack. “What’s the role of a pack Emissary?” 

“To be our humanity,” a blonde haired blue eyed muscled up American boy answered with an eye roll.

“Wrong,” all sets of eyes shot immediately to her then, “Over time the role has been so convoluted that people actually believe it. One person is responsible for a whole pack’s humanity? What, do I spray you with a bottle labeled ‘Humanity’ when you’re being a bad boy?” he didn’t have to see her face to see the very predator like grin that stretched across her lips, didn’t have to know her as he did to know that she would have the very thing by the end of the day. “No, the role of Emissary is to help in the union between your primary and secondary species.” she crossed her arms and leaned back against the island of his open floor kitchen, staring at each of his pack thoughtfully. 

“You,” Erica rose a challenging brow in retaliation to her call out, “What are your species?”

“Human, Kanima, Werewolf.” her sandalwood and vanilla scent spiked with rain at her interest. 

“Badass, then you’re a Kanima/Werewolf hybrid. What harmonizes all three of your beings?” Erica Reyes had been bitten and turned by his nephew while Peter had still been dead, and then she had been abandoned when her transformation did not turn out complete. It was Peter when he returned from the dead who had found the genuine connection she had with Vernon Boyd - her now mate - that helped her synergize her wolf and the Kanima inside her. “Close your eyes,” Stiles ordered, softer in tone when Erica’s features remained pinched in confusion. “Start with beliefs, what do you believe so strongly that you can feel the power in your soul hum to?” 

“I believe,” she started after a moment or two passed, frustration waning just slightly, “that the family you're born into is not the one you have to stick with, that you can choose your real family.” 

“Good,” god but her tone was soft and it made his knees weak with the affection pouring out of Stiles - affection from a demon. “Now think of people, pick two, at least two and do the same.” 

“My mate,” Vernon Boyd, the muscled statue of a man to her right squeezed her hand affectionately. “and my Alpha.” Peter was not preening, he was not, not from his favorite telling him that he was what helped keep her in balance. “They both showed me that I was enough, that I could be a badass without being a monster.” Then, softer, “and that I could kill without being damned.” 

“Good,” Stiles nodded, “a lot of people mistake killing as a sin.” a perfectly groomed eyebrow rose on the cherry haired goddess standing beside the couch. “Need convincing? Okay. You’re being raped and you kill your rapist. Are you going to Hell for taking the life or Heaven because it was in self-defense? Were you righteous in your killing because it was a piece of shit soul or must you repent and pray for forgiveness? Don’t like that scenario, pops is beating your mother within an inch of her life and you hit him over the head with a lamp, a frying pan, whatever. He dies and you’re only seven or eight, are you going to Hell? Will you be forgiven?” she rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “Killing is situational, you can kill to survive and still not go to Hell.” 

“What about the rapist or the dad?” Malia Hale, Peter’s estranged daughter, perked from her position on the floor. 

“Oh, the rapist is definitely going to Hell. The Dad is situational too, despite a lot of controversies.” she waved her hand again as if to clear the air and smiled at Malia. “What are your species?” 

“Human, Werewolf, Coyote!” her energy was adorable, her naivety brought a strange warmth to Stiles’s scent that reminded him far too much of simpler times when he was younger. “I spent ten years as a Coyote so I’m still learning human things.” 

“Ah, but it’s because of your time as a Coyote that your human side will be strong. Coyote’s naturally fear humans and larger prey, so you’ll always be cautious. Most humans are too trusting, and your werewolf will bridge the gap of inclusion and pack sense that your Coyote lacks and will help harmonize your human.” If his daughter had a tail it would be slamming against the ground in pleasure, “Do you still have trouble with your shifts?” 

“Yes,” a short nod from Stiles. 

“Am I right in assuming that you don’t shift to your coyote regularly anymore?” a confused nod, “Okay, next full moon is in about a week?” she looked over to Peter as he nodded. “Alright, Malia, a night before the full moon you and I are going to go on a hunt.” two sets of alarmed gazes set upon her then, “There’s a forest nearby with plenty of large prey. You cutting off your Coyote so suddenly will make it restless, it’s not used to the human, nor is the human to the Coyote.” 

“What if I can’t shift back?” he hated how small her voice got when she was uncertain. No daughter of his - though he only knew of her as his daughter for the past year - should be so unconfident in herself. 

“You will.” maybe it was the certainty in Stiles’s voice that drew reluctant agreement from Malia, or maybe it was the sole fact that she had an unwavering belief in her as the Emissary that had convinced her. Maybe it was both, whatever it was, Peter truly appreciated it. He found himself relaxing little by little as she went down the line of his betas until, at least, she got to Lydia Martin - a Banshee that was, reluctantly, a part of his pack - and Scott McCall - his Beta who had a hand in one of his deaths. 

“Neither one of you like what you are, whatever you are.” a deep sigh, then a rolled wrist, indicating they go ahead and tell her their species as everyone else had. 

“Human, Reluctant Banshee.”

“What, no seriously? You’re a Banshee and you hate it?” another perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in question. “Okay, put it this way, you’re not the spectral banshee who eats frontal lobes, you’re part human, so you have it so much easier than most. Let me guess, it’s morbid how you can tell when someone’s about to die?” a short, agitated nod. “Have you done any research into Banshee lore?” another, more agitated nod. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you believe the ‘If a Banshee wails for someone’s death then it can’t be avoided?’ rumor?”

“Rumor? Quite a few mythoi have stated much the same.” 

“Right, well quite a few mythoi say Werewolves full shift frequently and walk on humanoid hind legs like some eight-foot-tall dickery.” Lydia’s lips pinched into a frown, “Also, knotting? Not a thing less one of you is full shifted, shame though that is.” Isaac and Vernon spluttered in embarrassment at the sudden fact. “You not responsible for the deaths you scream for, you just announce them. You’re a Medium, and most times - if you hone your abilities enough - you can commute with the dead and feel the death of someone hours before it happens. Might give you enough time to save them, might give you enough time to figure out if they deserve to be saved.” 

Lydia said nothing more though she clearly was thinking over the new revelation thoroughly. It appeased Stiles enough that she moved her gaze to Scott and frowned, clearly not liking something she saw. “Hold your hand out,” he looked warily to his Alpha and did so only after he gave a hesitant nod. “I’m going to draw a drop of blood, something’s wrong with your wolf.” It was said so Peter could tell her to stop if he disapproved, not for Scott’s benefit. 

He knew for a fact that she had gotten Malia to use her claws to pierce the flesh of his finger was just so she could be included, he just wasn’t expecting the reluctant anger that seeped into his veins when she drew the finger to her lips and encased the tip in her mouth. It was unhygienic, it was abnormal, it was - now she was doing the same to him with a pensive furrow to her brow. How she had gotten his finger to bleed he had not seen nor did he care in the face of her tongue curling around his digit and retreating. Peter was not a teenager, nor did he have an uncontrollable sex drive, but her mouth tested that control in ways that threatened to unravel him. 

“Oh,” she breathed, wicked delight and murderous glee permeating her scent like blood and wine. “You’ve had a tail re-entering California, Peter. He’s priming your little wolfling for madness,” she turned to a confused Scott once again, “ have you been taking any new medications, drinking blood, smoking something different?” 

“No?” her brow rose in a challenge at his unsure answer, “I haven’t had to use my inhaler since I turned, I don’t drink blood, and I can’t get high. I was poisoned with wolfsbane once but that was almost a year ago.” he rubbed the back of his neck, somewhat agitated and now knowing why. “I’ve noticed a new smell in the Clinic but Dr. Deaton said it was a new incense to -” realization hit him the moment it hit Peter, the moment it hit them all. “-to calm my wolf. He uses it every day a week before the full moon.” 

Scott was firmly against killing anyone, least of all Deaton, so Peter had Stiles, Malia, and Jackson do a ‘patrol’ around the clinic and his home. Jackon was the one to find the evidence Stiles needed, Malia was the one who brought it back to him, and it was Jackson and Stiles that… dispatched, the good Dr. 

It made page five news, beloved Veterinarian dies of a heart attack in his sleep. It was a surprisingly tame death for a Demon - or of what he expected from a Demon - and had bred a surprising alliance-turned-friendship between Jackson and Stiles. 

Peter was a suspicious man, he rarely trusted anyone, but all that faded away when the two emerged from the forest, naked as blue jays with bloody jaws and adrenaline coursing through their veins a week later. He began to think that he could trust Stiles and cemented the very ideal when his daughter, for the first time in a little over a year, faced no trouble with her control on the night of a full moon. 

They continued to live together - it was easier for her to protect him if she were directly near him - and have meals together - she was a good cook and he was never one to deny quality food - for months. The pack thrived, Malia was able to shift at will and Cora, his niece was able to finally get a good workout group going with most everyone involved. Most of them began their first year in college while others, like Cora and Jackson, remained independently wealthy, passing most of their free time by investing in certain businesses - Cora even started a job as a fitness instructor and started teaching classes at the local gym.

He had a demon for an Emissary and his pack was thriving better than they ever had, even before when his sister was the Alpha and Hale Pack was near forty strong. Stiles, he found, was a quick wit with humor that matched his in intensity. She enjoyed reading - the few times she managed stillness - and sparring, Jackson, Cora, and Erica being her opponent more times than naught. She liked most types of music and enjoyed teasing him by singing along out of key with every song he tuned the radio station to - he had been alarmed and mildly impressed when she even went with the Opera playing over the classical radio station. 

She grew restless easy though, rarely ever slept (‘Don't need it’ she explained irritably, ‘four hours or so every two days is all I need, acclimating to this plane is more difficult than I gave it credit for.’), and was an absolute child when it came to curly fries or bacon cheese fries. She killed without remorse - he’d never been so turned on as when she drove her hand up under the Omega’s rib cage and crushed his heart with her hand - and had the shittiest taste for movies and comics. 

She was also kind - surprisingly so given her species and nature - and remained ruthlessly honest - traits he (and his pack) were growing to appreciate. They knew where they stood with her, they knew the extent to which she would go to protect them, and just how brutal she would be if they were injured stupidly. She took to sparring with Peter when their free time extended and scoping out potential betas to assist in the building of his pack. 

He was a suspicious man, but he trusted Stiles to protect and care for him, both as his summoned companion and his friend - gross sentimentality aside. Opposing packs were cut down if they refused to leave and remained hostile, treaties were made with dire consequences should the laws be broken, and Hale pack grew from nine to eighteen. A whole year and his pack had doubled, adding to its already unique ranks a Hellhound, a thunder Kitsune, a human bounty hunter turned Enforcer, two humans, a Chimera who could turn invisible, another werewolf/werejaguar chimera, two werewolves, and a human emissary in training.

A whole year of her rarely ever being injured and decimating his enemies where they stood before the first Angel appeared in an attempt to smite her. He had watched in horror as it pressed its palm to her forehead and blood began pouring from her orifices. The Angel didn’t get to question why it wasn’t smiting her around the fist she’d shoved up from the soft side of his chin and crushed the brain of its vessel. She was gasping when the vessel dropped to the ground and angel wings burned into the ground, then she was ripping the corpse apart, flinging tissue and chunks of flesh here and there, painting her perfect skin in blood red. 

She stopped only when her hair hung limp, soaked with blood, and looked as if she had been dipped front first in a blood pool. Her pitch-black eyes met his from where she had frozen him with her abilities and released him, giving him just enough time to catch her before she fell unconscious. 

In the year he had her at his side she had only ever had to tend to his wounds thrice, each time were ones she had inflicted during their sessions. Never once did he have to tend to her, not until now. Never once did he get the chance to really feel the bond that had formed between them until now, it staggered him how weak she felt. It took all of three seconds of thought before he opened their bond up completely and let her draw on his strength to heal. 

Peter was a suspicious man, but not of her. He trusted her, he liked her. It was hours later when she was cleaned and rest in his arms in his bed that he truly gave himself time to think of her. Her taste in clothes wasn’t completely abhorrent, he could and did trust her, she complimented him in nearly every way, and he did like her. Romantically? Perhaps. Sexually? Her body was alluring of that there was no doubt. Could Demons be monogamous? 

Was that what he wanted? He had used to dream of a partner such as her, one who he could depend on and be depended on in return. One who met him wit for wit, who took his anger and cold fury and fanned it to flames or extinguish it with just a look or a word. He could love her if he didn’t already. 

“ ‘m naked,” she murmured earlier the next morning just as he was stirring awake himself. “ ‘m naked in your bed.” she dug her nose deeper into his chest and inhaled long and hard, “you smell good.” his laughter made his chest rumble against her that turned a tad deeper when she pulled herself flush against him. 

“Be my mate.” he hadn’t meant to blurt it out so childishly. He had imagined using her candles for a candlelit dinner of her favorite dishes that he prepared, perfect suit and maybe even a ring. This though… though wasn’t all that bad of a comparison, he supposes. 

“You really don’t remember your time in hell,” she murmured, chin resting against his chest while she looked up at him. When he rose his brow at her not-answer she rose to her elbows and traced his brow line with her fingertips. “We Princes are given our choice of the souls being tortured in hell, our own personal playthings.” she hesitated, gold eyes glowing impossibly warm as they stared into his sea-blue ones. “You were there maybe two days and were sassing your tormenter, I was bored and you seemed funny. We spent three months getting to know one another. You’d make me laugh, would come up with nicknames for the other Princes or demons that came and went. You tried to leave me twice and I ripped you limb from limb,” he shivered and clutched harder at her hips when she straddled him, pensive expression deepening. 

She wasn’t lying, he shouldn’t have found her penchant for murder and violence so sexy. 

“About a week before you left you told me your plan, that you’d be resurrecting soon, but that you’d found me ‘surprisingly amicable company, for a demon’.” he grinned when she tried to mock his tone. “You asked me to be your mate then,” she took his hand at her hip and drew it under her breast, pressing the palm flat against her ribcage. Her lack of heartbeat had always amused him, but now- “ask me again.” she was about to do something life-changing. 

Peter Hale that was would’ve refused, he would’ve suspected her intentions and would’ve never wanted her to be his mate. Peter Hale now, though…

“Stiles,” he was acutely aware of the way her skin broke out in goose flesh, “Will you be my mate?” 

“Yes.” with her answer came a thud from her ribcage, with her answer the bond connecting them as a summoner and the summoned twined with their pack connection and then was reinforced with the mate bond, connecting them in ways no one would ever be able to break. “My name,” glossy sea blue eyes rose to meet her warm gold ones, both of them breathing heavily as the air around them crackled with energy. “Is Mieczyslawa.”

“Mieczysława,” he breathed then suffocated her with a kiss, firm hands gripping her jaw and the back of her head. He tried, many times, to release her from their summoning contract, only for her to refuse so ardently that he never again tried. 

“I’m not going to Heaven, Peter, and neither are you, this contract… we’ll be together in hell, just as we once were, only you’d be a Prince too.” being with her in death as they were in life? It sounded like Heaven to him. Three months later she became Mrs. Hale, two months more and she was heavily pregnant. Their firstborn son became a Demon/Werewolf hybrid that they lovingly referred to as their little Demon Wolf became one of the most feared and respected Right Hand of Hale pack. 

There’s a tale, passed down from the thriving Hale family, that if one were in desperate need of help one only had to ask for Stiles or Peter and they would appear. Their love story is a fairytale, their ending a new beginning, their story hope for their descendants and a report of amusement to other demons. It was for this that a sullen sixteen-year-old was chanting with tears in his eyes in the forest far from his home, dying even in the skin he was in. 

The runes lit the same moment the teen fell to the forest floor, balling. He had been ruined, fouled by another werewolf of an allied pack, and he could tell no one.

“Hello,” his great-great-grandmother greeted, kneeling before him with a kind, maternal smile. “I know,” she hummed when he launched into her arms, wailing into the night. “Don’t worry, Derek, Peter is taking care of the rest.” The next day word had spread that an entire pack had been decimated per the old treaty that had been signed in blood. What had been taken from Derek had been repaid in flesh and blood and he knew that his great-great-grandmother and grandfather were responsible and he wept. 

#Steter #Teen Wolf #Demon Stiles Au #Demon Stiles #Female Stiles Stilinski #Rules 63 Stiles #Rule 63 #Peter Hale #Demon Summoner Peter Hale #Prince of Hell Stiles Stilinski #Hale Pack #steter events #Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski #Peter Hale x Stiles Stilinski #steter network monthly prompts #November 2019 #Gore #Rated M for Mature #Nudity #Religious themes #Supernatural references #Deucalion

[slasherscream]

hey, i was wondering if you could do a tatum x reader x sidney head canon but in a platonic way? i love these ladies but i daydreaming constantly about how amazing it would be to be besfriends with them, love it if you could do it with black fem!reader also love your blog, you’re such a lovely person ❤️

A/N: *insert me too?? the fuck. gif* you are the most valid person on earth-

   sidney prescott x black!reader x tatum rileyft. platonic best friends ! platonic best friends !

                                                     ——————– 

There’s a certain point of popularity that you reach where you no longer actively look for new friends because people are typically just trying to get close to you for some hot gossip or a boost on the social ladder. Tatum and Sidney have long since reached this point of popularity.

Even if they hadn’t who needs a ton of friends when you have friends of quality? They’re best friends for life. Really and truly, and not just in name.

There’s an exception to every rule of course and their exception happened to be you. You came along and changed everything. 

A few hang-outs a week and sitting together at lunch become running up phone bills and dragging you along everywhere they go no matter what they’re about to get up to. 

Going to all of Tatum’s soccer games and cheering for her louder than anyone else. For a really important game you painted your face the team’s colors. It’s that serious.

Tatum laughed till she cried when she saw you but no one’s ever taken her playing sports that seriously before (she’s a girl playing on girl teams against other girl teams, isn’t she? what’s to take serious about that?). She keeps a picture of you two on her dresser of that first time. You, with your pretty brown face painted blue and yellow, her team’s colors; and her, sweaty but triumphant and with an arm wrapped proudly around your shoulders. It’s one of her favorite pictures. 

Sidney loves having deep conversations or long, understanding silences. Both of which she can’t always get from Tatum. Whenever you provide her with either you can see the effect your company has on her. Her face goes soft with released tension and her smiles come easily the rest of the day. 

Shopping with them is an ordeal. It’s super fun but it takes forever because they (mostly Tatum) never want to stop. You and Sidney can coax her away from a sale only with the promise of a cinnamon bun from the food-court.

If Tatum picks something out for you it will look good. She knows what colors your skin pops in? Knows what brings out all your best features? Knows your size by heart and can figure out what that translates to in every brand known to man (why don’t women’s clothes have sizes that make sense? we’ll never know!) 

Sidney picks her outfits without fanfare (or help        “thanks but no thanks, tatum”) but is perfectly happy to hype the two of you up for the fashion show Tatum makes you put on. You’ve all shared many laughter and fashion filled afternoons.

Watching movies together and coming up with some ridiculous thing you’d do for an actor/actress you think is cute.              tatum: to kiss winona ryder i’d drink …. the hottest lava on earth              you: and with what lips would you kiss her with post lava?               sidney: and since when has there been cold lava?               tatum: fuck you both-

Tatum carries around a foundation that’s your exact shade for any make-up emergencies you might have. A make-up emergency is serious business and for her to do this is the equivalent of carrying around an epipen for someone with severe allergies. That’s love bitch! 

Sidney is a hugger but she didn’t know how much of her physical affection quota she got from her Mom until her Mom was gone. She didn’t realize she kept physical contact to a select (trusted) few until then because she got all the affection she needed at home. 

You give her a long hug after a rough day of reporters and gossips and she bursts into tears. Now whenever she looks on edge you come up behind her and just wrap your arms around her. She always melts into it. She’s literally this post.

It’s such a little thing but it means the world to her that you know she needs it and you always give it to her without her ever asking. When you have sleepovers she curls up close to you long before you two actually intend to sleep.

She asked you the first time if you minded how close she was but when you only pulled her closer and commented on the room being kinda chilly she grinned at you. Whenever either of you is feeling extra cuddly all you have to say is “I’m a little chilly.” and the other will drape themselves around you like a cloak. 

You three look out for each other viciously at parties. One time a boy you didn’t know came up to you with a drink and Tatum gave him a look that could have melted the skin from his bones. Sidney had to tell him to beat it before Tatum beat him. 

One time you guys turned on one of those bridezilla shows because you were bored and it caused Tatum to ask the brilliant question of “who’s gonna be who’s maid of honor?”……dear god-

If the answer from either of you isn’t her she will lose her mind and have a bitch fit!

“You want to be the maid of honor at both our weddings?” “Uhm —- yeah. Duh.” “Y/N, will you be my maid of honor just because of this?” “Sid I would be honored. Would you do me the honor of being mine?” “You joke now but you’ll see who’s laughing when neither of you lame-asses knows where to get a stripper-”

Tatum learned how to braid your hair because she didn’t think it was fair that you’d always help her get ready like a pro but she could never do much for you. Her favorite thing to do is two long french braids. She started just braiding your hair in general when she learned how much it cost to get it done. That’s money you could be spending on shopping trips with her??? 

The girl’s soccer team got underfunded one year and you and Sidney got together and did bake sales, car washes — anything you could think of to help. You got the whole school behind you two because you were so passionate. With everyone pitching in and helping the girl’s team wound up with better funding than the boys that year. 

You three wind up at the same college together and you get a cheap little apartment you can all afford and live together for the longest time. 

Heartbreaks and finals. Surviving on ramen until Sidney picks up a coupon hunting hobby so you don’t all die from malnutrition. Tatum flirting with the neighbors so they’ll carry your things for you while you try not to laugh when it works every time. Studying hard with Sidney and being grateful and exasperated when Tatum makes the two of you party even harder.

All the holidays spent together because you can’t make it back to Woodsboro in time but you start new traditions with one another that mean more than you can say. 

You’re away from home but rarely get home sick. It makes sense, really. You guys brought the most important parts of home with you: each other. 

                                                     ——————– 

#sidney prescott x reader #sidney prescott x reader x tatum riley #tatum riley x reader #Sidney Prescott imagine #tatum riley imagine #final girl x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #can you IMAGINE having best friends like they??? ....bro....anon you are so valid

[octothorpetopus]

I Forgot That You Existed (Part 1)

Link to part 2

"Yeah, we're not so worried about you not 'getting some.'" Frank put air quotes around the words.

"Well, we kind of are. It's just that the 'some' we're worried about you not getting is emotional fulfillment."

"True." Richie looked back and forth between his friends.

"Guys, I'm not getting a fucking online dating profile. I'm not forty. Stop bugging me."

"Richie, we're worried about you."

"What the hell are you, my mother?"

"Just download the fucking app, Tozier." Frank snatched the phone out of Richie's hand and held it just out of reach. Nina held Richie back as he reached for it.

"You motherfucker, give me my phone back!" Frank didn't respond.

"Say cheese!" He snapped a picture of Richie, who had sat sullenly back down. He typed speedily for a few moments (Frank's typing skills were the envy of all rapid-fire texters), then pressed a button. There was a soft whoosh as the profile was posted, and Frank tossed Richie his phone back.

"Fuck you, Frank." The phone chimed and all three of them gathered around to look at it.

"Holy shit," Nina said softly. "You got a match."

Meanwhile, in an LAX waiting room, Eddie Kaspbrak's phone buzzed in his back pocket. He ignored it, focusing instead on the pitch he was mentally writing and the steady sound his suitcase made as he rolled it back and forth in short paces. He hated investor meetings, but it was his company, and he had to get it off the ground if he ever wanted to be anything more than a 34-year-old asthmatic business major with no friends, no life, and no idea where he was going. Metaphorically. Literally, he was going to the Los Angeles Hilton, if his cab would ever get here. His phone buzzed again. He sighed and pulled it out.

YOU HAVE ONE NEW MATCH read the notification. He swiped and opened the phone. The wheel in the middle of the screen spun for what seemed like hours. Shitty airport WiFi. Finally, a profile popped up. The guy in the picture was... alright, he guessed. There was something a little oddball about him. And a little familiar, too. But then, maybe he just had one of those faces. Or, he realized, maybe he was a stand-up comedian that he’d seen in New York last year. Eddie smiled to himself, amused by the coincidence. At the time, he had no idea just how deep that coincidence really went.

“He’s kinda cute,” Nina offered and shrugged.

”I don’t know. He’s got sort of a sad puppy look. It’s a little off-putting.”

”Nobody asked you, Frank.”

”Nobody asked you either, Nina.”

”Both if you shut up.” Richie held up a hand to silence them. “Look, if I go on this one date, will you promise to get off my ass about getting a date?” Nina and Frank looked at each other and nodded.

”Deal.”

”Fine, then.” Richie’s thumb hovered above the LIKE button. “But what if-?”

”Oh, just shut up!” Nina exclaimed, and pushed the button for him.

Eddie considered it briefly. He was only in LA for a few days, maybe a week. There would be no second date, no relationship to come from this. Still, he couldn’t quite shake the voice in his head telling him yes, that this was important. And besides, what was the harm? Lots of people only went on one date. He pressed the LIKE button too.

”Fuck me,” he whispered as a message popped up on the screen.

CONGRATULATIONS!

Both of you liked each other!

Now you can start chatting.

Make a date, and hopefully, a connection.

Eddie rolled his eyes. This was the exact kind of cheesy bullshit he hadn't wanted when he had signed up for this app a year ago on a whim. A chat window opened up.

This is the start of your messages with RICHIE TOZIER

RICHIE TOZIER IS TYPING...

Richie had sent Nina and Frank away. He was tired and annoyed and frankly, talking to strangers on the internet (something he vaguely recalled his mother telling him never to do) sounded far more appealing than trying to deal with his friends at the moment. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. What could he... say? "Hi, you're kind of hot?" "You ever date a comedian?" Maybe he'd just skip words and go directly to emojis. And then it came to him, a line he used to use on girls all the time back in school (girls who were well-above his league, and he knew it).

This is the start of your messages with EDWARD KASPBRAK

RICHIE TOZIER: I could use some spare change, and you're a dime.

He felt stupid even as he wrote it, but he pressed send before he had a chance to give it a second thought. Well, he thought, there goes that idea. And then, Edward Kaspbrak started typing.

Eddie was in his cab now, staring down at the absolutely asinine pick-up line he'd just been sent by a man who was at best a 6 and a half. But once again, he had a sense of déjà vu. Not just like he had heard that line before, but like it was somehow meaningful. If it had been anyone else, he was sure he would've ignored the message and moved on. But it wasn't just anyone, and even if Eddie didn't quite know why he remembered Richie Tozier, he wasn't giving up quite yet.

EDWARD KASPBRAK: You use that line on all the boys?

RICHIE TOZIER: I've got a whole library full of them, I don't need to reuse that one.

EDWARD KASPBRAK: Hey, this might sound weird, but have we met before? I have the weirdest feeling that we have.

RICHIE TOZIER: I'm pretty sure I would've remembered meeting you, dude.

Eddie flushed scarlet in the back of the cab. He couldn't remember the last time someone had said something like that to him. Truly, he couldn't.

EDWARD KASPBRAK: I'm probably wrong. Anyway, are you free tonight?

Richie thought for a moment. He was supposed to go get drinks with some other comedian buddies of his, then maybe crash an open-mic night that they had frequented in their early comedy days. But then he looked back at the man on his phone, the one who looked just a little bit sad even though he was smiling as widely as can be in his picture, and typed out a quick reply.

RICHIE TOZIER: I actually am. I know a good place, pretty quiet. I'll text you the address. You eaten yet?

EDWARD KASPBRAK: Yeah, why?

RICHIE TOZIER: The drinks are good, but the food... it's good that you already ate.

Eddie fussed with his hair one last time in the hotel mirror. It just... wouldn't sit right, even though it looked exactly like it always did. And his clothes, all he had was what he’d brought for business meetings and casual dress, nothing like what he’d normally wear on a date. He checked his watch again. He had given himself fifteen minutes to get there, even though the concierge at the hotel told him it’d take maybe ten, if traffic was bad, and since it was a Wednesday it probably wouldn't be.

To say Eddie hadn't been on a date in awhile would be an understatement. He hadn't been on a first date in seven months. He hadn't been on a second date in a year and a half. He hadn't been on a third date in three years. And as for his last real relationship... well, Eddie had never been in a real relationship. Not that he could remember, anyway. In college, there had been a four-month thing with a girl, but that was mostly just to please his mother. He and the girl (Rosa was her name) had been good friends, and still were, but their whole relationship had been something of a friendship with a few awkward makeout sessions thrown in for good measure. The fact that he didn't like women was probably a factor in his disastrous relationships, both with women and with his mother, but she had been dead for three years this October and he was finally living the way he had always meant to. He just... hadn't gotten around to it when she was still alive.

He took one last look in the mirror. He wasn't satisfied, but then, when was he ever? It was a warm early summer night, so he thought he'd walk. Or maybe he shouldn't. There would surely be people smoking outside, and with his asthma...

Similarly, Richie was trying on his third outfit. He had tried just the Hawaiian shirt, then just a T-shirt and leather jacket, and then all three simultaneously. Funnily enough, the multi-layered look was his favorite.

"You got this, Richie." He looked himself in the eyes (through the mirror, not any kind of crazy witchcraft shit), and cracked a grin. "Except that you're talking to yourself. Fuckin' weirdo." But he grew sober, and his fingers tapped nervously against the side of his leg.

Richie didn't date, per se, but he went out a lot, and then went home, usually with a different guy, although he had been known to call up an old flame from time to time. He had dated, and he wasn't necessarily opposed to the idea, but he was, not to toot his own horn, famous. And usually, famous guys, especially ones that weren't classically hot, didn't get dates. They got laid.

His Mustang was parked in the driveway, and even before he started it the wind off the ocean whipped his hair into a frenzy. As he sped off into the Santa Monica sunset, the butterflies in his stomach began to dissipate. This was going to be different. He could feel it.

Eddie had been waiting outside the bar for almost ten minutes. It was his fault, of course, for getting there so early, but the pacing outside the front door did nothing to calm his nerves. Nor did the gentle roar of the cherry-red Mustang that pulled up next to the curb, nor did the profoundly familiar face that got out of it. Richie Tozier walked two paces towards him and stopped in his tracks, his eyes even wider behind his fishbowl glasses than usual. Eddie spoke first, his vocal cords hardly functional.

"Holy-"

"-shit," Richie finished. All of a sudden, everything clicked into place. Why the name had sounded so familiar, and the face had been even more so. Why he had been so nervous in the first place. Eddie fumbled in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a gray piece of plastic. His inhaler. He took two quick puffs of it and shook his head, as if in a stupor. Richie, who had screeched to a halt upon seeing his childhood friend (and first love, but that was another story), started again, and hugged Eddie with a force he didn't know he had in him. Eddie hugged him back, just as tightly.

"Holy shit, man," Eddie repeated.

"Yeah." They finally released each other and Richie took a step back, looking Eddie up and down. "Damn, Eds. You're looking good."

"So are you." Richie shook his head.

"I feel like such a fucking moron, but... I didn't even realize it was you until I saw you just now. You're going by Edward now?"

"Not... not really. And to tell you the truth, I only thought I recognized you because I saw one of your shows when you were in New York last winter." Richie laughed, deep and warm.

"Shit. Was it any good? Wait, don't answer that."

"It was great."

"Well, um... since we're here..." Richie gestured at the bar's frosted glass doors. "Want to get a drink?" Eddie smiled, and his dimples were craters in his cheeks.

"Yeah. I really do."

#reddie #it chapter ii #it stephen king #stephen king #it chapter 2 #it chap 2 #it 2 #it 2 movie #eddie x richie #richie x eddie #richie tozier #bill hader #finn wolfhard #seth green #eddie kaspbrak #james ransone #pj ransone #jack grazer #jack dylan grazer #dennis christopher #fanfic #reddie fic #fic #fanfiction

[kvmes]

Another Love TKO

I just read your text post about the dude you liked and it made me think of a situation that happened with me and this girl i had a huge crush on at my college.

I'm pretty sure it was fall semester 2017, i had walked to my building for class like i always did, i had my headphones in like always and was early to my class like always.

(quick side note) idk about you but im introverted, the reason i mention that is because me being as introverted as i am, im very observant.  I notice everything around me, i notice peoples faces, the clothes they wear, im just a very observant person. I dont talk that much, and i never walk around with my face in my phone like everyone seems to do these days, im always, always in deep thought, and deep observation.  

Anyways, i get to class hella early and i have my headphones in and im just chilling, when all of a sudden i see the most beautiful girl i have ever seen at my college, i mean, she was stunning. her hair was curly, and it was in a bun, her skin was golden and she had a bandana that was a mixture of red, black, and green. she had those gold and black suede pumas that was popular around that time.

Her arms were criss crossed across her chest and she was carrying her books. in the 5 seconds it took for her to pass me i picked up her whole vibe. she walked past me and didnt even know i existed. but i didnt give a shit, i was absolutely blown away by how gorgeous this girl was. when i say she was the most THE most beautiful girl i had ever seen at my college... i mean it. 

She walked past and it was like slow motion, i stopped my music and said to myself, "damn who is that"?! and that slow motion shit stopped and time was regular again, i was like "aigh i have to get to know her". so i literally looked at the time to make sure that every tuesday/ thursday i was at that exact spot just so i could get a glimpse of her. and sure enough every tuesday/ thursday i saw what i thought would be my future wife. 

But the thing is, here i am picturing all this lovey dovey shit like walking down the beach, me surprising her with flowers, me taking picture of her (im a photographer) all that gushy shit, and i know deep down im too shy to even approach her lol... one thing about men that most of us wont admit is that, when we see "the one" or that girl that makes time stop and makes you reevaluate life for a second.... we be gettin scared... or shit maybe its just me. but the fear of fuckin up can really stop you from doing somethin great. in this instance it was my fear that got the best of me. but when we men see that girl that you just know you have to have, we just dont know how to act idk why.

but idk im speaking for all dudes like i know, shit so maybe its me. anyways... i would see this girl basically every tuesday/ thursday and never speak.. i would always chicken out, because it would be hella people in the hallways, then on top of that she always looked like she didnt wanna be bothered, so i was like fuck lol im never gon get this girl. 

so i said fuck it. ima just wait till i see her on the campus walking and try and speak to her then. i figured shit if i talk to her when its only her, if i get rejected, only me and her will know lol... so idk what picture i had in my head but the shit was nothing close to what actually happened. i thought i would see her on campus... and i literally saw her like 3 times on campus, and she was either to far for me to get to her or going in a building i wasnt going into... its like she was a ghost. i started questioning did i even see her in the first place, or was i just so in need of real love that i made her up...

So i basically just gave up... and then one day at work i saw her again. at this point it had been like weeks since i last saw her on campus. i had dropped the class i had in the spot where i saw her in the first place, so i basically didnt see her at all. 

if im being honest the shit was like a movie, i had got on the elevator to go check the trash in one of the buildings like i had did every single day of that semester, and as soon as i got off i saw her walking in one of the entrances. that same rush of adrenaline came over me like it was my first time seeing her all over again. we looked at each other but walked past one another. she walked to the staircase entrance and was gone in 5 seconds again.

i had never had a girl make my heart beat like this before. i was in a daze. i was so nervous but i now knew that she lived in one of the dorms i worked in, which made me happy. so i planned on talking to her the next day. my confidence level shot up, i was ready to finally talk to this girl. 

the next day at work i tried to spend as much time as i could in her dorm, and of course... i didnt see her. I saw her the one time and that was it. 

It wouldnt be until the end of the next semester which was spring 2017 that i saw her again. i was working in the dorms. she was packing her stuff up to leave, and i said oh well no use now. so i was with my coworker and we were laughing and joking, and i said alright man ima go and make myself busy. 

no sooner do i leave him to go check on trash in the dorm "my future wife" lived in, i was cleaning something in the lobby, and through the blinds i saw my coworker talking to the girl of my dreams!! she was smiling and laughing and i saw them get in the elevator together... so i rushed over to that building and of course the elevators we busy. so i took the stairs down and went to the basement and i didnt see them... i rushed to catch the elevator back up and as i was getting off the elevator i heard her laugh and say "have a good day" and the door shut, and my coworker walked around the corner and said "oh shits whats up"! from the time i saw them talking in the first place to me getting up there when she was walking out the door, it was about 2-3 minutes. 

my heart was beating 1000 times a minute, my coworker came around the corner and saw me, i said "yo bro, who was that girl you were just with"? he said oh her, idk... i was like bro that girl is the girl of my universe lol... the next time you see her give her my number or just text me so i can talk to her... he said alright bro i got you.

And of course because life is life, i didnt see her until spring 2018. J. cole's KOD album had just came out a few weeks prior and i was blasting it in my headphones. i was in dream girl's dorm, and i saw her again... she was loading up her car and getting ready to leave... today was the day. i was goin to speak to her... and i know i said this shit 5 thousand times, but this time i had a feeling it would be my last chance.

i saw her a few times loading her car and was nervous. so i turned on one of my favorite cole songs... 03 adolescence. it gave me the confidence i needed. i saw her walking with her R.A and i knew that meant she was checking out and leaving for good, so i waited in the lobby because i knew she would have to walk through there to get to her car...

i was nervous as fuck, and even more because she had her R.A with her and if i got rejected he would see, but i said fuck it. she walked in and i said excuse me, she turned to me and her smile was beautiful, her voice was soft and kind of high pitched. "i said im sorry to bother you but you are beautiful to me and i have had a crush on you for a long time"

she started blushing, smiling and giggling. she said "oh my god do u? where have you see me at?" I said "eh you know, just around". i knew time was fading for me to ask for her number, so i said hey listen i have to get back to work and i know you have to leave, so how about i give you my number and you just text me. she said ok cool.. she pulled out her iphone. the screen was cracked, so i was extra careful to type my number in correctly. i handed it back to her and she said "cool i'll text you when later"

i said ok. on the outside i looked hella regular, but on the inside i was on the moon somewere... i walked into one of the other dorms and jumped up with excitement, i couldnt believe after all this time we had finally spoke. i finally got to talk to her. i was on fire. but then i quickly came back down to earth because the real test was waiting to see would she hit me up. 

I waited all day and all night, and came up with every excuse in the book. "maybe she just got tired from driving" lol... maybe she dropped her phone and it cracked and broke... maybe she accidently deleted the number. i came up with every excuse in the book. 

and after all that, she never texted me. and i have to say my feelings were hurt for a few days. i was more embarrassed than anything, because i put myself out there only to strike out. it was also the fact that i pictured us walking down the beach, all that lovey dovey shit i had thought about was basically never gonna happen. i had feelings for this girl, and she didnt even know the half. what hurt the most was that she never got to know how i really felt. i pictured her asking me "so how long have you liked me"? and i wouldve told her how i knew i liked her from the first time i laid eyes on her

how i knew exactly what she wore on the first day i saw her, how furiously my heart beat from just getting a glimpse of her. i wouldve told her that every time i saw her it was like the first time i saw her.... but it never happened sadly... and after that encounter it was truly the last time i had saw her. she either transferred,  moved off campus, or graduated. so i wrote this out because your story reminded me of this, but also just to say, we're all kind of awkward in our own little way, and i think that no matter how awkward we are and how odd we might be, theres someone out there waiting in the universe that will love us unconditionally. ( sorry this was so long) have a great night. 

#black and artsy #kvmes #submission

[bittysvalentines]

I’ll Talk Bromance (if I can get it)

From: @leftwinglibrarian

To: @redneterp

Rating: Teen. Tags - Holsom, friends to lovers, mutual pining, Valentine's Day, canon-typical language

A message to your recipient - Happy Valentine's Day @redneterp! I loved getting your request, because it was almost exactly like the one I'd submitted! I felt like the world just needs more Holsom content, so that's what I went with. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for giving me the chance to write something for this pairing I love so much!

“HOLSTER? ARE YOU WEARING A TIE OR ..” Ransom’s query is cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Shit. CAN ONE OF YOU GUYS GET THAT?”

Apparently not, if the repeated ringing interspersed with door knocking is any indication. Ransom would grab it but he’s still standing there shirtless, which seems OK for the Haus but somehow not for Haus 2.0. Maybe this is the moment he achieves actual adulthood, he muses to himself as he grabs a dark red V-neck sweater from his drawer and pulls it on as he heads to the door.

“On my way, just one sec!” he calls out to the maniac who seems intent on knocking down their door.

He finally gets his sweater on, muttering under his breath about the uselessness of his roommates. Honestly, what is the point of living with four other people? Can’t one of them help out a guy who doesn’t want to answer the door half naked? Though to be fair, Shitty and Lardo aren’t home, because they are spending the holiday at a romantic B&B in Rockport. They both made a big deal about how they were staying “ironically” but Rans and Holster aren’t buying it. And their other roommate spends all of her time either out of the house or holed up in her room, so Rans hasn’t actually seen her in … well, it’s been a while. And Holster … 

Holster is standing at the front door holding a bouquet of red roses and a giant heart-shaped box of chocolates.

“What the hell Holtzy?”

“And a Happy Valentine’s Day to you as well, Justin. May I come in?”

“Dude, you live here. What are you doing?”

“I am being a gentleman and picking up my date,” Holster says, brushing past him. “Are you ready?”

“Again, why are you picking me up? WE LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER.”

“Bro, can’t a bro do bromance right and pick up his Brolentine’s Day date in style?”

“Brolentine’s????”

“OK, I concede that ‘Galentine’s’ works better, but I feel like you are focusing too much on the details here and missing the spirit of this holiday. Are you ready for the most Bromantic evening of your life?”

“Sure Leslie Knope,” Ransom says with a smile, glancing down at his outfit. “If you think this is OK? Wasn’t sure how dressed up we needed to get.”

“Looks great, I’m about the same,” Holster says, gesturing down to his dark jeans and a navy blue half-zip sweater. “I’m gonna grab a vase for these while you get your shoes on.”

“Wait, are we doing gifts now? Hang on,” Ransom jogs back to his room. Holster may think he’s gone all out, but two can play at this game.

Which … it started out as a game, but it’s gotten a little intense, or at least it feels that way to Ransom. It had all started a few weeks ago when the group chat started talking about Valentine’s Day. That’s when Shitty had brought up their “ironic” V-Day plans, and Jack was being super cagey, so chances are he’s got something pretty epic planned. Ransom and Holster were the only ones without real plans, since he and March had finally called it quits a few months ago after trying the long-distance thing. Holster hasn’t really dated anyone more than casually for, well ... he’s always been more into hookups than relationships. But then so has Ransom, since the breakup, so who is he to talk?

The team had resorted to those chirps that have started to make Ransom blush a bit, about how the two of them are soulmates and will have an epic Palentine’s Day, etc. And of course they had to do it when Holster had just been on a “How I Met Your Mother” kick that lead to him posting at least 17 different “Challenge Accepted” memes. That combined with his always ardent love for Leslie Knope was enough to get Holster swearing that this was going to be the most epic Galentine’s Day - or, apparently, Brolentine’s -  either of them had ever experienced.

Somehow the evening had morphed from beer, pizza and Mario Kart to actual PLANS, with Holster taking on dinner and Rans in charge of the activity. Of course Shitty’s encouragement to “fuck heteronormativity, two bros can celebrate their love” had only upped the ante, and now Holster was picking him up even though they still live together and bringing him gifts … At least Holster won’t win that one.

Ransom returns to the living room where Holster has managed to find something to serve as a vase and hands him a red gift bag, complete with heart-covered tissue paper.

“Rans, are these HIS AND HIS BOXER BRIEFS? ‘Swawesome. We are totes wearing these and doing some snuggling later.”

“Sure bro, of course,” Ransom says, ducking to tie his shoe and hide his blush. That was of course what he’d been planning when he ordered them, but hearing Holster say it, well. It’s just A LOT.

Honestly, ALL of Ransoms feelings about Holster have been a lot lately. He’s always thought his best friend was handsome and funny and talented and basically just the best person ever, but since things started going south with March, those feelings have somehow morphed into something more. He finds himself noticing how Holster’s singing in the shower sets the tone for his day, or how much he misses living in each other’s pockets now that they have separate bedrooms and work in different departments at the consulting firm. Or how perfect Holster’s arms and shoulders are and wondering what they’d feel like boxing him in against the bed as Holster looms over him. And that’s not how you are supposed to feel about your best bro. So Ransom will endure this night of flowers and chocolates and fake hand holding, and he’ll stay chill, and their friendship will be fine.

He stands up to find Holster holding the door.

“My lord, your chariot awaits.”

That earns an eye roll from Ransom as he heads to the door to grab the bag full of cold weather gear he’s packed for their activity, but he lets Holster hold the door and they pile into the car, headed out for the mystery dinner Holster has planned.

Turns out Holster did a pretty damn good job. He might end up winning this thing. Not that there is an actual winner or anything, but fondue was a boss choice. Anything that features the words “beer cheese” is going to be amazing. But served with a nice Chianti, because they are grownups and this is romantic. Still, turns out beer cheese is incredible on pretty much everything, from apples to shrimp to steak tips to the piece of baguette Holster is holding out to him across the table.

“Oh my God, Rans, you have to try this. This is my new favorite combination of carbs and cheese. It is the best thing in my life besides your smiling face.”

“Whoa, dramatic much, Holtz? Besides, you say that about pretty much every combination of carbs and cheese,” Ransom jokes, trying not to let Holster’s hyperbolic talk set his heart racing. He is your best friend, that’s IT.

“I really mean it this time. And if you don’t shut the fuck up and eat it right now and allow even one precious drop of this delicious perfection to escape I will never forgive you.”

They exchange a smile with their eyes as Ransom opens his mouth and allows Holster to feed him, because bromance. He starts to chew and can’t help but let out a moan. He’s already so full but he’s going to have to eat at least a full loaf of bread now because that was fucking delicious.

He opens his eyes to find Holster with a weird look on his face, one Ransom can’t quite interpret. It disappears instantly when Holster realizes Rans is back with him, and they continue on, scraping the bottom of the fondue pot to get every last bit of the melty cheese.

They move on to dessert, Ransom allowing Holster to feed him a brownie bite covered in chocolate and returning the favor with a bit of cheesecake. Ransom could sit here all night, eating delicious food and listening to Holster talk, using his hands to gesture wildly. Ransom probably shouldn’t find it so endearing, especially since he almost hit that waitress who was carrying a full fondue pot, but he lets himself enjoy the moment. The check has come and gone and their feet are casually touching under the table. Holster’s hair looks golden in the dim lighting of the restaurant. The Boston skyline twinkles in the background, and this truly is the best Valentine’s Day Ransom can remember spending.

He’s brought back to reality by a high-pitched squeal and someone yelling “Yes! Oh my god, Tom! Yes!” All heads in the restaurant turn to see the newly engaged couple kiss, earning cheers from the crowd. It’s enough to break the spell.

“So, you ready to head out?”

“Oh dude. I literally can’t imagine doing anything other than going home and lying around in front of the TV with my pants unbuttoned while I digest. Please tell me you aren’t making us go to one of those trampoline places or something.”

“Nope. You killed it at dinner, but now it’s my turn.”

They head to the car and bundle up, Ransom handing out hand warmers before shouldering the remaining items in the bag. He’s glad the restaurant isn’t too far away, since parking in Boston is hell on a good day, and tonight is sure to be even worse.

“Do I get to see what’s in the bag?” Holster asks as they head out to walk the few blocks. It’s cold, but not too bad, and clear — a perfect winter night.

“Nope, it would spoil the surprise,” Ransom says, pulling the bag a little tighter. “You’ll guess it soon, probably before we get there.”

He does start throwing out a few guesses as they near Boston Common (“Dude, is there some special V-Day Freedom Trail thing? Do you think I’m Jack Zimmermann?”), but it’s not until they can actually see the Frog Pond that Holster realizes what the night has in store.

“Skating? That is some next level bromance, taking it back to the place we first met. Can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.”

And that … may have been exactly what Ransom was thinking, but it seems incredibly cheesy now that they’re here. He’s seriously having second thoughts about this plan. Plus the hordes of couples holding hands and the fairy lights strung through the trees are making this infinitely more romantic than any of the places they have skated. He and Holster have shared so many cellies, helmet kisses and bear hugs on the ice, but being surrounded by couples holding hands on a sheet of ice — which will always mean Holster, no matter where it might be — well, that might just be too much.

“It’s super cheesy, bro. I’m sorry. We can bail and go home and binge something, it’s fine. I just … I thought it would be funny if we came here ironically or whatever, you know?” Ransom can tell he’s not sounding convincing, especially to Holster, who knows him too well. But he’s looking around the pond instead of at Ransom, and doesn’t seem to mind the level of schmaltz surrounding them.

“Ironcially? Hell no. This is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. We are totally doing this. Did you bring our skates? Because I am not putting my foot in some stanky rental.”

Ransom’s feeling reassured enough to feign shock at the very idea of getting rentals, and they lace up and pay the fee before taking to the pond, doing lazy loops that remind Justin of the early days of their friendship, lazily passing pucks back and forth as they stayed after practice talking for hours, discovering all they had in common.

It must be weighing on Holster’s mind as well, because he speaks up voice low where he’s skating too close to Ransom, hedged in by all the other couples on the ice.

“Did you ever think we’d be here? That first day we met?”

“I mean, not exactly,” and something in the air is making Ransom’s breath come a little faster and convincing him to be more vulnerable than he thinks is actually a good idea. “But I figured out pretty early on that you were someone I wanted to be a part of my life for a long time.”

“I knew. That day,” Holster says, still quiet in a way he rarely gets that lets Ransom know these moments are to be treasured. “I just like, we met and I just KNEW that you were going to be important to me.”

Ransom realizes that they’ve slowed down and are leaning into one another, so close they are breathing each other’s air. Which, it’s not like that’s anything new for them, but this feels somehow different. The frosty air seems charged, thick between them. Ransom is just starting to question whether Holster might be feeling the same, when someone slams into him from behind, sending him crashing into Holster’s strong arms. It’s only due to Holster’s height and strength that they don’t go crashing down.

“WATCH OUT, ASSHOLE!” Holster yells over his shoulder, as he helps steady Ransom. “What a dick. Can you believe that guy? You OK?”

Luckily the shove was enough to shatter the moment, and Ransom has recovered his wits along with his balance.

“Bro, I’m good. Thanks though,” he gives Holster a soft punch on the arm, shouting after him. “YOU COULD DO BETTER MISS. I MEAN REALLY, YOU COULD DO SO MUCH BETTER.”

They start skating again, laughing together, best bros once again in a sea of lovers, when Holster’s face lights up.

“Dude, you are so buying me hot chocolate.”

“Are you even serious right now? Do you realize how much chocolate we just ate?”

“Feel the bromance in the air, Justin. That calls for some fucking hot chocolate and snuggling.”

So Ransom forks over the money for hot chocolate (least he could do, after Holster shelled out big time for dinner), and they sit down on a bench, sitting close and quiet the way they normally only do at home in front of the TV or after they’ve been drinking. That’s happening less and less these days, with separate bedrooms and no kegsters to get them schwasted and keep Ransom from climbing up to the top bunk.

The cocoa is too hot to drink, and the rink is getting even more crowded, so they pack up their skates and sip as they walk back to the car, the talk going in a million directions just like it always does, able to follow one another’s mental leaps in a way that wouldn’t make sense to most people. They get in the car and and head home, but instead of pulling in the back, Holster parks out on the street.

“Can I walk you to the door?” Holster asks, turning to look at Ransom.

“Holster. YOU. LIVE. HERE.”

“I know. But can’t a bro try to treat his bro right after an epic V-Day?”

“Sure,” Ransom sighs and thunks his head back on the rest as Holster gets out of the car. “Bros for life, right?”

Holster is still playing the game and comes around to open Ransom’s door which is next level, even for him. They walk up to the door in silence, Ransom struggling to control his emotions. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck this up. He tries to shake it off and find the joviality from earlier in the evening, which he can tell is a mistake as soon as he opens his mouth. But even as he’s telling himself to shut the fuck up, he hears the words coming out.

“So, does this mean I get a goodnight kiss?” he tries for a laugh but it sounds strangled, and Holster is being silent and Holster isn’t laughing, why isn’t he laughing?

Ransom realizes Holster has stopped walking and he turns back to find him looking absolutely shattered. Does Holster know? Did he take this too far?

“Rans, I … I can’t do this, OK?”

“Holster, what … what do you mean? I’m sorry, OK? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t joke about that shit. I just … it was a stupid thing to say, OK?” he moves to pull Holster into a hug, and for the first time Ransom can remember, Holster pulls away.

“I didn’t realize you knew. I’m sorry. I’ll drive up to Samwell and crash there for the night, and we can figure it out tomorrow.” Holster won’t look at him, and he starts to shuffle back to the car, and he just looks so small and miserable and Holster should never feel that way and it’s Ransom who made him look like that.

“Adam, no. It was my fault, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he calls after him, grabbing Holster’s arm and turning him around so they are face to face. “I just … I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” Holster is looking at him incredulously. “Dude, I’m … Justin. I’m in love with you.”

Ransom can’t help the gasp that escapes from his lips. He feels himself sway a bit, feels the panic rise. This is what he’s been wanting for so long, including Holster’s strong arms wrapping around him, but Holster is still talking to him, soothing, holding him close but rubbing his back to calm the panic attack he can tell Ransom is trying to fight off.

“I love you, but I just can’t do this again. After we made out that time sophomore year, I just … Rans, that almost killed me. I just can’t do it again. And you deserve better than a creepy roommate who is mooning over you, so I can move out. I still want to be your friend, but I understand if you don’t want that.”

Ransom is still trying to get himself under control, and words are a struggle.

“I … I want. I wanted tonight to be real.”

“Justin … please,” and he’s cold as Holster is pulling slightly away, looking at Ransom with the saddest eyes Ransom has ever seen. “Please don’t say that when you don’t mean it. It hurts too much.”

“No, Holster … Adam, I. I’ve wanted it for a while now. It’s part of why I broke it off with March. I just … I thought it was just me.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No. No, I wouldn’t. Holster, I would never …” Ransom still can’t think of the right words to fix this, to let Holster know how he feels, so he does the only thing he can think of and pulls him into a kiss.

Holster is tense at first, surprised, but as Ransom keeps kissing him, trying to express what panic isn’t letting him say, he feels Holster relax into it, his arms sliding up to hold Ransom and opening his mouth to let the kiss deepen. Ransom is unsure how long it lasts, could be seconds, also seems like years, and they pull apart breathless, foreheads resting together, gulping down the cold air.

“So,” Holster says, still a bit breathless as his arms slide down to take Ransom’s hands in his. “You’re telling me that we have basically been pining away for each other for MONTHS now?”

“Uh, I guess so,” Ransom can feel himself beaming, panic sliding away as he lets himself realize that this moment is actually happening. “Should have told you, we missed so much time.”

“Bro, we still have time,” Holster says, pulling their joined hands up to his mouth and cupping them to his face, turning to kiss Ransom’s palm. “What do you say we turn this into a real Valentine’s Day?”

“Dude, only if we put on our matching boxers.”

“We can put them on, I’m just not promising they’ll stay on,” Holster says, wagging his eyebrows as he unlocks the door and they tumble inside, kissing as they move down the hallway.

Ransom loves him so fucking much.

“Hey Holster? I love you, too.”

“Bro. ‘Swawesome. Me too, obvs. Now, the big question … your room, or mine?”

Ransom drags Holster after him, wondering if it’s too soon to make one room “theirs.”

#holsterransom #fanfiction #bittysvalentines #bv2019 #omgcp