#Major Forces in refrigerators

[epsilontlosdark4]

Went for the deep cut @gailsimone reference here XD Misfit giving Major Force a taste of his own medicine with a side of some Dark Vengeance kicking his shiny butt in a refrigerator.

Art by EFEXTEX over on dA!

Also @thehappysorceress

[greenlantern94to04]

Green Lantern #54 (August 1994)

Ah, this one. Everything's coming up Kyle Rayner! He's getting the hang of this "Green Lantern" thing, just defeated a Superman villain (with Superman's help, but still), and is finally back together with his smart, sexy, and responsible girlfriend Alex (who honestly seems better suited for being a superhero than him). The first pages of this issue go out of their way to make it clear to us that they are definitely having sex and it is very hot.

The next morning, as Kyle lays on Alex's bed (because they had sex), he sees something on TV about weird stuff like dinosaurs, conquistadors, and Elvis being sighted around LA. Alex convinces him to suit up (he's currently nude, on account of the sex) and go check it out. She declines to tag along and take pictures this time because it's her day off, but she promises she'll have a "surprise" for him when he gets back (I'm gonna go ahead and guess the surprise is more sex).

As Kyle flies off, he sees that a bunch of futuristic buildings have for some reason materialized right in the middle of the city, along with some very confused future pedestrians. Apparently, safety regulations are a lot more lax in the year 2088, because the buildings start crumbling when one of LA's customary earthquakes happens to hit. Kyle realizes pretty fast that he can't stop a quake with his ring, but he can brace the structures against it to minimize the damage.

Then, the future buildings and future people fade away. Another disaster averted by the New Green Lantern! The end.

Wait, there are still 9 more pages left in the comic? Huh. While all of that was happening with Kyle, Alex received a visit from a flower delivery guy. She figured they must be from Kyle (to thank her for all the sex), but when she looks at the card, she sees that it says "I'm going to kill you." Turns out the flower delivery guy is supervillain Major Force, who has been commissioned by a shady government agency to kill Kyle and steal his ring, in no particular order.

MF grabs Alex (who tries to resist with a kitchen knife, but he's invulnerable) and tells her to give up information about her superhero boyfriend. She pretends not to know what he's talking about, and without even giving her another chance to squeal, he just chokes her until she loses consciousness in her kitchen, then says "I'm hungry."

Later, Kyle comes back to Alex's home all giddy and eager to collect his surprise. He finds a note from her that says "Surprise for you in the fridge," although he notices that her handwriting looks funny (almost like some big goon with quantum-powered metal skin wrote it). Then he looks there and finds... the origin of the term "fridging."

That's about the most abrupt tonal change I can remember in a comic; Kyle is so distraught, even the art style changes (okay, that's because this issue has multiple artists). So, yes, Major Force killed Alex and stuffed her body in the fridge, and now he expects Kyle to just give up his ring and lay down as he gets killed too. Instead, Kyle throws the MFer through the wall and they start fighting in Alex's front yard. MF is amused to find out that the green energy from Kyle's ring can actually hurt him, but the amusement doesn't last when he's being bludgeoned by a green mallet.

Kyle is going to kill MF (we know because he says "I'm going to kill you now"), but then the mallet his ring created suddenly evaporates. After several issues of usage, Kyle's ring picked this moment to run out of energy (we know because he says "I'm... running out of energy"). We end the issue with Kyle saying "it's dead" as a pissed-off MF is about to hit him with a quantum punch. TO BE CONTINUED!

Character-Watch:

So long, Alex! You were too good for this comic, or at least this particular issue. Unlike 90% of recurring characters who die in superhero comics, she'll never be brought back to life. From now on, she'll only appear in flashbacks or when someone wants to mess with Kyle's head, like with that nasty "Black Lantern" zombie business. An alternate version of her will briefly appear in a sort of "Spider-Gwen" type situation, a scenario that I'm surprised hasn't been explored more given how much DC has embraced alternate timelines over the past decade. But hey, at least her death served to teach Kyle an important lesson: buy a fridge lock.

Plotline-Watch:

The time-related chaos is, of course, caused by the events of the Zero Hour crossover, which hasn't even started yet, but that's time travel for you.

Incidentally, I wonder how many readers assumed Alex would be brought back via time-related shenanigans at the end of the storyline, which would have been a cop-out but also made the whole thing a little less distasteful (then again, if that was the case I might be here saying how cool and transgressive it would have been if they'd just left Alex dead...).

It has always bugged me that the handwriting in the ridiculous "I'm going to kill you" note is very different from the one in the infamous "fridge" one. Did Major Force have one of the agents write it? Did he buy it pre-written at Hallmark? Also: how did he know Kyle had been promised a "surprise"? I guess we're meant to assume that's a coincidence, but it's possible Alex muttered "But... I promised Kyle... a surp--" off-panel before dying.

The shady government agent who flies Major Force to LA tells him to extract whatever information he can about that glowing green rock that was found in the alley where Kyle got his ring, but MF didn't even ask her about it. The guy is pretty bad at his job.

It's too bad that the nice future girl Kyle saved from the earthquake, who seemed very grateful to him before she faded back to the future, won't appear again when Kyle visits the 2090's. Maybe she could have given him that surprise he's still owed.

This was one heck of a time to find out that Kyle's ring does need to be recharged from time to time. We'll find out how next issue.

Did I mention Kyle and Alex were having sex? Because they were for sure having sex.

NEXT: Guest-starring Green Lantern (a different one)! Also, Zero Hour!

[nerdy-novelist017]

i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!

Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!

Word Count- 2k+

Summary- See request above.

Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club. 

Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door. 

“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking. 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”

“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”

Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.

“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation. 

“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”

You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you? 

But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.

******

Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore. 

You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent. 

Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you. 

You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence. 

“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.

Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”

He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.” 

You shrugged. “Not much happened.”

“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you. 

You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”

You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”

He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”

“What were they saying?”

You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look. 

He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me,” he was quick to say. 

“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.

Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”

“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”

“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.

“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”

“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.

“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.” 

“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you. 

Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times. 

He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”

Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!” 

He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.

His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”

You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict  @elizabeth916  @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @dudii4love @ironmooncat  @beebeechaos  @astrogrande  @pearlparty  @themorriganisamonster  @sillylittlethrowaway  @ughdontbeboring  @penwieldingdreamer  @charmingballoon  @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans  @groovyangelkisses  @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit  @pomtherine  @tranquilty  @m00npjm  @twisteduniverse5  @justsomewritingblog  @nhlfs  @thepassionatereader  @rebecca-hvnstn  @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations  @buckysteveloki-me  @simsiddy  @zablife  @sansaorgana  @autumnleaves1991-blog  @charmingballoon  @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey  @cynic-spirit @pomtherine  @ilovehyperfixating  @xcallmetaniax  @lovenewfandoms  

[myinconnelly1]

All the Luck in the World Pt 18

Masterlist

Warnings: depression (General), anxiety (General), pregnancy, nausea, anemia, Valentina's manipulations, stress trigger (PTSD implied-but gentle)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x OFC (you)

Word Count: 1,002

Summary: With all her luck, Jinx has to wonder if it's good or bad. When she meets Bob, she starts to get her hopes up..

A gentle kiss pressed to your forehead, bringing you to the most delicate sleep.  Your body resisted waking and moving.

“I know you’re tired,” Bob murmured against your shoulder as he kissed you again.  “But I need you to wake up.  You need to eat something and drink something.”

You groaned, pressing yourself against Bob.  You felt that queasiness that had been haunting you for almost three weeks now.  Training, sleeping, and having people trying to push food on you, had become your life.  The idea of eating anything made you want to gag, and moving from the bed felt almost impossible all the time.  When you were out of bed, you longed to go back and take a nap.

“You haven’t eaten all day,” Bob whispered.  You could tell he was trying to coax you from the bed.  He knew that if you didn’t eat regularly you would be in the bathroom heaving, even if there was nothing left in your stomach.

“Okay,” You gave in.  When you opened your eyes, the reality of his words hit you.  It was dark outside.  You had literally slept the entire day away.

“I’m going to talk to Bucky.  You need to see a doctor,” He whispered against your hair as you sat up and leaned against him.  You all knew that the second you went to see a doctor, Valentina would be all over you.  She would have the excuse she needed to take you back to her compound and run any and every test that she wanted on you.  But Bob was right, there was something wrong with you.  You leaned on him, letting him take you out to the kitchen.  He handed you some crackers, while he put some peanut butter on a slice of bread and folded it.

“Hey guys,” Bob said as Bucky and John walked in from the elevator.

“Hey, it’s good to see you up and moving around,” Bucky said giving you a small smile.

“Actually, about that,” Bob said as he turned and gave you the mini sandwich.  You looked at it with mild disgust and contempt.  “I’m worried that something could be wrong.”

“Listen, we talked about this.  As soon as we make any move Val will be all over us.  And we won’t be able to protect you.” Bucky said, sounding very tired.

“I had a thought about that,” John said as he pulled something out of his utility pack.  “I think you should try taking one of these every day.  Preferably after you’re done puking your guts out.”  You grimaced at his words before forcing yourself to take a bite of the sandwich.  You put it down and took to proffered pill bottle that John was handing you.

“You think I have an iron deficiency?” you asked looking at the bottle and then up at John.

“Uh, yeah, Olivia would get real tired and sick like you are when she was pregnant, and they determined it was because of low iron.  It won’t hurt you to take them for a little while and see if you start feeling better.  It should work pretty fast too.”  He looked away from you and rubbed his beard in obvious insecurity.  You took one of the capsules from the bottle and swallowed it on the spot.  Bob handed you the sandwich you had put down and went to the refrigerator to pour you a cup of milk.

“You guys, we have a problem,” Yelena said as she came out of her room and flipped on the main screen. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky said as attention shifted to the next problem on the list.  She switched to a major news network, and you broke out in a cold sweat when Valentina’s face appeared on the screen.

“You’re safe,” Bob whispered as he moved behind you, and held you.  You could tell from the way that he was holding you that he was scared too.  His thumb rubbed small random shapes on your belly as he held you tight.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” John groaned when he saw the woman’s face.

“Director, can you tell us more about the breakthrough your team has had in regard to the new super-soldier serum?” the news anchor said seriously.

“Well, I would like to stress that these tests are still preliminary, but my team has made great strides, and we believe that we have created a new super soldier.  One that will be joining the ranks with the New Avengers.”  Her smile was fake as the light of it did not touch her eyes.

“What is she going on about?” Bucky asked looking at Yelena.  Both Alexi and Ava had come out of their rooms to watch the press conference.  Yelena shook her head as she actively bit her tongue.

“We believe that we have found the right formula to safely create a super soldier.  Our most recent test subject is stable and going through training now to safely and effectively use their abilities.”  Valentina continued.  “There will be an official press tour with the New Avengers in the next few days, where our newest member will be unveiled, but look to social media with updates about them as we drop clues to their inclusion with the team.”

“Director, we are almost out of time, is there any last-minute remarks or tidbits that you can reveal to us to get the hype started for our viewers?”  The reporter smiled in a practiced way.

“I didn’t think she wanted Bob to be in the public view?” Ava said looking at the others in confusion that was shared by everyone except Yelena.

“Our newest super soldier is the first woman ever to complete the training.  We are so excited to have this diversity.  For too long have women been left in the shadows of their male counterparts but no more.”  Valentina said.

“She’s not talking about Bob,” Yelena said.  “She is talking about-“

“The luck bomb,” John groaned, figuring out where this was leading.

[reidsmuse01]

Hey Guys!

This is my first time posting a Swat imagine! ( Be nice please 🫥)

Luca is my favourite Swat character so I will probably start off when a couple of LucaxFem!Reader imagines. I will also be using (Y/N).

If you have any requests feel free to message me😊

__________________________________________________________________________________

Summary: Bonnie is your best friend and it’s her birthday. You’ve organised a pool party for her with a couple of your friends until the Swat team crash the party after work and your night has a Very happy ending.

TW: mentions of alcohol, no smut but it is implied.

The sun felt like a warm fuzzy blanket across your back as you sat by the pool sipping your, very large, vodka and coke. The music blasted through your backyard as all your friends danced and sipped their drinks. You however were in your sun lounger, analysing every part of your body that was exposed. You felt so self-conscious in your bikini. All of your friends were smaller than you. You had curves, and a bigger chest and weren’t a size zero by no means.

Bonnie noticed you were rather quiet, as you were usually the life of the party, and came and sat beside you.

“What’s up (Y/N)”, Bonnie asked, furrowing her brow at you.

“Nothing, I’m good”, you answered, forcing a fake smile in order to somehow convince her you didn’t feel like total shit about yourself.

“Bullshit”, she retorted. “I know exactly what’s going on, I’m your best friend”, she said with a sympathetic smile.

“(Y/N) you’re beautiful. I know you feel self- conscious, but what woman doesn’t. you think I’m not jealous of your curves and big boobs”, she laughed.

“Wait, what?”, you asked confused.

“Yeah, you think I’m not self-conscious of my skinny frame or small chest that makes me look like a little boy”, Bonnie quizzed.

“I never thought of it like that”, you said, Bonnie making you feel slightly better about yourself.

“Look, it’s my birthday and I want to have a good time and get drunk with my bestie”, Bonnie said while standing up, stretching out her hand to you.

You stood up and hugged her and thanked her for the reassurance

“Right, Shots?” you asked and ran off into the house to fetch a bottle of tequila and some shot glasses.

As the evening turned into night, the alcohol took full effect. There wasn’t a sober person in sight. You all danced and had fun in the pool, playing drinking games and prank calling local pizzerias asking if their refrigerator was running and if it was to go catch it, how juvenile but you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so hard.

Bonnie winked at you and asked, “You up for a visitor”, with a mischievous smile on her lips, and with that you heard the wolf whistle from none other than the resident playboy himself, Jim street, as he led the team out to the backyard where the party was. Butterflies grew in your stomach as you knew, the man you had a major crush on was probably with them, and you were right. There he was with the biggest smile on his face, carrying a case of beer under his arm. There was something about Luca, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but even his presence had an effect on you and Bonnie knew this. She quickly ran over to Tan and Luca, wrapping her arms around Tans neck trying to kiss him but instead nearly ended up knocking him over in her drunken state.

You stayed on your lounger sipping your drinking as you watched the team mingle with your friends. Chris spotted you and came over to sit beside you. “Wow”, She said eyeing you up and down. “If I wasn’t in a relationship with two people right now, I’d so chat you up, you look hot”, she joked.

“Shut up”, you laughed. Chris watched as your eyes were trained on Luca. His arms looked so big in the black tank top his was wearing and paired with his fresh haircut you could’ve melted on the spot.

She smirked “Why don’t you just go talk to him besides drooling over him from afar”.

“No, I can’t”, you said, your eyes never leaving him and you soaked up the sight in front of you.

“He doesn’t feel the same way, I know it”, you slurred.

“You both are as oblivious as each other “, Chris laughed, getting up to get a drink.

She walked over to Luca and whispered something in his ear. She disappeared inside and Luca slowly made his way over to you.

“Hey, great party”, he smiled.

“Thanks, I wasn’t expecting ye, not that I’m complaining”, you joked

“Well Bonnie texted Tan, saying she was drunk and missed him and invited us because we finished the case early”, he explained.

Luca took a deep breath and look you directly in the eyes and in that moment, you swore you could’ve melted.

“I gotta tell you something”, Luca stared. “This isn’t easy, I’ve thought about doing this for a while but I always chickened out and I don’t know if it is the liquid courage or the way that bikini hugs you body in all the right places but I can’t keep it inside anymore”, Luca swallowed hard and took your hand in his.

“I like you, a lot and I understand if you don’t feel the same and I know we have been friends for a while but…” Luca rambled on.

You brought your hands up to either side of his face and placed a gentle, but hungry kiss on his lips and held it there for a few seconds.

Everyone watched in amazement as the team thought this day would never happen and was trying to get you and Luca to confess your feelings for each other for months now.

When you pulled away, Luca bit his lip and smile sheepishly.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that”, you confess.

“So was that a nice way of telling me to shut up and that you feel the same way”, Luca joked and he scooted closer to you on the lounger, putting his strong, muscular arms around your waist, giving your ass a squeeze as he did so.

“Hey”, you smacked his chest playfully.

“What! you’ve no idea I’ve waited to do that”, he confessed with a cheeky grin as a blush grew across your cheeks.

You spent the rest of the night drink and playing beer pong with the team and your friends, Luca stealing cheeky kisses when nobody was looking, or so he thought.

At the end of the night, everyone was drunk and you knew you’d pay for drinking that much liquor in the morning. Everyone started to leave in ubers and soon it was only you, Luca and street left. Streets uber pulled up outside. “Hey Luca, rides here”, Jim slurred. “No, mines right here”, Luca laughed and he pulled you close, planting a kiss on your lips. “You dirty dog”, Jim laughed and shook his head as he left and closed the front door behind him and you knew you and Luca would be the talk of the Swat locker room for the foreseeable.

Luca turned to you and smiled.

“you know you’ve been driving me crazy all night in that bikini”, he said and he placed his hand on your chin, tilting you face up to him.

You blushed.

“Come on, time for bed”, he smirked and he pulled you upstairs.

It was Bonnie’s birthday but it was you who had the happy ending that night. 🫠😜

Your bikini:

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ALEX DEWITT (DC COMICS)

1.) The term “fridging” is literally based on Alex and what happened to her. She was killed off violently by a bad guy trying to get at her boyfriend only a couple issues after she was introduced (making it obvious they only brought her in to kill her off for shock value). Her death did very little to the narrative other than hurt her boyfriend Kyle and was done in an exceedingly horrifying and violent way. (Bad guy came to the door with flowers and threatening note, broke in and attacked her, choking her to death, before [off panel] chopping her body up and sticking it in the refrigerator as a “surprise” for her boyfriend. This obviously is really fucked up and she deserves better and should win this actually (a vote for Alex is a vote for all fridging victims [in spirit])

2.) It doesn’t get much worse than being the character whose death originated the “fridging” trope. In Green Lantern Vol. 3 #54, Kyle Rayner comes home to find that Alexandra, his girlfriend, has been killed by the villain Major Force and stuffed into the refrigerator.

Alexandra DeWitt is the character whose misogynistic treatment coined the term where a character, usually female, is killed off purely to make the main character, usually male, feel bad. Even if there are other characters who have been subjected to similar levels of misogyny, Alexandra DeWitt’s treatment has been essentially immortalized.

3.) I know she’s not going to win but shout out to my home girl, literally the trope namer for women shoved in fridges. All anyone ever knows about her is that she was Kyle’s girlfriend and got murdered for his character development, even though she had plenty of potential to be her own character.

AMBER VOLAKIS (HOUSE MD)

1.) Holy shit thank you for reminding me about Amber. Her nickname that almost everyone calls her to her face every day is Cutthroat Bitch. When she & Wilson start dating there are so so so many jokes about her keeping his balls in her purse & having him whipped & etc etc just bc she’s assertive & confident. & then the whole two-part episode where they fridge her (which is. not quite house’s fault directly but he definitely contributed to it) they make it completely about house & wilson & maybe 2% about HER. I’m still mad forever

2.) After being fridged, she does show up in later seasons! As a hallucination. She shows back up to be the devil on House’s shoulder when he is hurtling towards a vicodin-induced breakdown. Literally only shows up to steer him into making bad decisions (including almost killing Chase (allergic to strawberries) by inviting him to a party where the stripper is wearing strawberry scented lotion that sends him into anaphylaxis)

3.) im so glad someone else submitted amber because she fits so well for this poll but i couldnt get my words out right but im going to try again anyway. i think an important aspect of how ambers character is treated and written for the audience has to do with if a man did what she did, hed be opportunistic and ambitious, if not a bit of an ass, but because shes doing it it makes her ‘bitchy’. “cutthroat bitch” “coldhearted bitch” etc is practically her canon alias at this point by how much she is referred to that way rather than her name. she is probably the most humanized out of wilson’s canon relationships and its mostly because theyre paralleling her to house. she deserved so much better she deserved the world and more

[rnnsdrms]

“you won’t catch me finding real life guys, i’m too busy catching these 2d guys. an exhaustingly long assortment of my men in selfships. not guaranteed i will write fics for all of them.”

# BLUE LOCK.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪. ITOSHI RIN

professional soccer player! boyfriend with famous singer! girlfriend, opposites attract, she fell first he fell harder, slow burn romance, “everyone wants him that was my crime, the wrong place at the right time, and i break down and he’s pulling me in, in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.”, height difference, possessive hero x oblivious heroine, “you’re not saying you’re in love with me, but you’re going to.”, grumpy boyfriend x sunshine girlfriend, him calling her with endearing nicknames in french—“mon cherie, mon amour.”, cupping each other’s face while kissing, making-out in the car, going to each other’s events (soccer games & concerts), spotting him in the crowd during one of her concerts and her finger points at him, singing, “karma is the guy on the gens, coming straight home to me.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪. KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

professional soccer player! boyfriend with famous author! girlfriend, mutual pining, endangered animal activists, golden retriever! boyfriend x black cat! girlfriend, height difference, elevator pictures, long cuddles on the sofa, reading books aloud to each other while one lies their head on the other’s laps, parents to three cats, her making tiktoks where she tells him to do poses from novels, “he knows how to ball, i know aristotle”, soft head rubs, him carrying her branded shopping bags in the streets, him promoting the release of her new novels through his ig stories, her screaming his name from the grandstand when he makes a goal, “where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪. ISAGI YOICHI

professional soccer player! boyfriend with art gallery director! girlfriend, love at first sight, “the boy is mine, i can’t wait to try him.”, goofy! boyfriend with romantic! girlfriend, baking sweets together in the kitchen, dancing in the refrigerator light, museum dates, re-enacting museum paintings, running away from the paparazzis, pranking the paparazzis, attending his soccer matches and the camera pans to her, labelled, “art gallery director & yoichi’s partner”, him commenting under her ig posts where she looks immaculate, “🤨 i’ll fight every single one of you 🤜🏽” and she replies, “i’ll believe it when i see it 🫵🏽”, supportive power couple, sunshine with sunshine protector, him leaving her cards in every bouquet he gifts, “i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings.”

# FREE!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪. YAMAZAKI SOUSUKE

professional swimmer! boyfriend with sport science major! girlfriend, serious! boyfriend x chaotic! girlfriend, height difference, watching him cook in the kitchen, reading the gps for him cause he has poor sense of directions, sporty boyfriend with couch potato girlfriend, “who’s the cute guy with a black jacket and a thick accent, like?”, going through thick and thin together, her taking care of him during his rehabilitation, her planning exercise regimen for him, watching him play the guitar, him pulling on my jacket when the red light came on because i didn’t notice it at first, chocolate cakes, late night movies, “i think i’ll take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three, you're too sweet for me, you're too sweet for me.”

# MORIARTY THE PATRIOT.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪. ALBERT J. MORIARTY

fallen earl! hero with banking company heiress! heroine, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, secret agent! boyfriend with ceo! girlfriend, secret identity, her not knowing that he’s actually a government spy at first, entangled in an intricate web of national conspiracies, protective! hero with rebel! heroine, her saying, “i don’t need your help,” and him replying, “i know you don’t but i want to.”, flirty! boyfriend with serious! girlfriend, her almost getting killed right in front of his eyes, her not wanting to be alone after a life-threatening incident, “can you stay with me … for tonight?”, “i’m a demon in the night, she’s an angel with the white.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪. MYCROFT HOLMES

powerful civil servant! hero with young and inexperienced diplomat! heroine, AGE-GAP,

LAST UPDATED: 2025.01.09

© RNNSDRMS. DO NOT FEED MY WORKS TO AI AND DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, TRANSLATE MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[legolasbadass]

Italian Holiday, Part V

Summary: A few weeks before Richard leaves for Boston, he and Lorelei go on holiday in Italy to make the most of the summer and the time they have left together.

This story takes between the penultimate and last chapter of Office Hours and contains major spoilers for that story, so make sure you read it first!

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 4.2K

Rating: E

A/N: I know I've already posted a chapter this week, but it seemed fitting to post this chapter today... 😉💙

Read the full story on AO3

On the morning of Richard’s birthday, I wake early to pick up pastries and fruit for breakfast and a cake at the nearest bakery to surprise him. He is not big on birthdays, but I still want to make this day special. I hold my breath as I sneak back inside the flat, cursing the racket the keys make as I insert them into the lock. But thankfully, Richard is still sound asleep. 

After hiding the cake in the refrigerator, I make my way toward the bed. The crumpled duvet exposes Richard’s naked chest, which rises and falls in an even rhythm, golden under the morning sun sneaking in through the half-closed curtains. One of his arms is stretched out on his side, where I slept earlier, but he does not seem to have noticed my absence. Smiling to myself, I carefully sit on the edge of the bed and rest a gentle hand on his chest, running my fingers over the patch of hair between his pectorals and feeling the steady beating of his heart under his warm skin. There is something quite comforting about seeing him so relaxed, so at ease, and it is in moments like this that I realize just how much I will miss him when he leaves for Boston. My heart tightens at the thought, but I force myself not to think about it. Not here, not now, on this most special day. 

I am admiring the soft, grey hairs in Richard’s beard when he begins to stir. A moment later, his eyes flutter open, his sapphire irises shining like the glittering waves at the beach, and when his gaze meets mine, he smiles sleepily. 

“Good morning,” he says, his voice slurred by sleep. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” I whisper before leaning in to kiss him softly, my loose hair spilling over my shoulders, tickling his cheeks. 

He groans into the kiss as he wraps his arms around me, his large hands caressing my waist through the thin fabric of my dress. “Why aren’t you in bed?” he asks when we pull apart for air a moment later, sounding displeased. 

“I had to go pick up a surprise for you,” I answer with a smile as I bring a hand to caress his unruly hair, then let my fingers trace his temple before settling on his beard. He opens his mouth to retort, but before he can say anything, I add, “I know you don’t care for birthdays, but let me take care of you today, okay?” 

He grins in response and buries his hand in my hair as I lean in closer, supporting myself with one hand on the mattress. I let my eyes flutter close as I rub my nose against his, enjoying the way his beard tickles my cheeks before meeting his lips in a languid kiss. The kiss quickly becomes more heated, and as his tongue tangles with mine, I move to straddle him, welcoming the feeling of his growing arousal between my thighs. 

“A birthday present so soon in the day?” Richard teases, and I giggle, burying my face in his neck and inhaling his scent as I trail a path from his ear down to his Adam’s apple with my lips. 

His large hands rest on my bare thighs, gently stroking them, leaving no inch of skin untouched. Eagerly, they slip under my dress, all the way up to my hips, leaving the fabric bundled at my waist. My skin burns under his touch, and when I instinctively grind myself against him, I am rewarded with a gentle wave of pleasure. His hands dig into my flesh as he hardens under me, his body surrendering to the same sensations he awakens in me.

“Take off your dress, darling,” he suddenly says in a deep voice, fisting the fabric, and I shiver. 

Gazing into his lust-darkened eyes, I raise myself and slowly reach from the hem of my dress to pull it over my head, letting it fall to the floor before reaching for the clasp of my bra. Richard swallows heavily as he stares unabashedly at my breasts and the hardened peaks that beg for his touch. The love and desire burning in his eyes set my whole body on fire, and heat pools between my thighs, soaking my knickers. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, almost as if to himself, then licks his lips, momentarily distracting me. I desperately want to kiss him, to drown in his intoxicating taste while his beard scratches my cheeks, but I force myself to wait. This morning, I intend to draw out his pleasure and explore every inch of his striking body. It is his birthday, after all. 

I offer him a seductive smile before devoting my attention to his chest, pressing light kisses across his collarbone, then down into the valley between his pectorals. Encouraged by his increasingly ragged breathing, I lightly bite his skin, slowly inching closer to his nipples, and he groans and arches into my touch when I teasingly swirl my tongue over one. 

“Sweetheart.” The endearment is both a plea and a command, but I ignore him, making my way further down. “Please—I want you, Lorelei.” 

“Not yet,” I say, shaking my head before caressing his navel with my tongue. 

His hands are now buried in my hair, and I can tell he is holding back; he could easily take control and push me onto my back to have his way with me, but thankfully, he seems content to let me be in control for now. 

Never tearing my eyes from him, I settle myself comfortably between his thighs and press a lingering kiss on the tip of his hardness, then another, this time teasing him with my tongue, revelling in the low groan that tumbles from his parted lips. Smiling, I wrap one hand around him, letting it glide against him in tandem with my mouth, teasing him until the first salty drops of his pleasure meet my tongue.

Richard's moans grow louder, and his body tenses beneath me, muscles straining as I keep up the teasing rhythm. When I take him deeper into my mouth, he tugs on my hair and lets his head fall back, exposing the column of his throat to a sunbeam that travels across the bed, and I moan against him, mesmerized by this tender, handsome man I have the chance to call mine. The way he looks at me now, like I am all that matters to him in the world, makes my heart swell with a love so deep it takes my breath away. And suddenly, despite my desire to take my time with him, I can no longer ignore my need to feel him inside me and share this pleasure with him.

His groan of protest is immediate when I pull away, and I cannot help but laugh as I slowly move to straddle him once more, steadying myself with my hands on each side of his head. Even through the cotton of my knickers, I feel how warm he is, and I know he can feel how wet I am already. 

“Lorelei,” he groans in a deep, desperate voice, pressing his head into his pillow as he struggles to keep his eyes open. “Are you trying to kill me?” 

Another breathless laugh escapes my lips as I lower myself to kiss his jaw, and the new angle causes us both to moan. Richard’s hands are now tugging on my knickers in a desperate attempt to remove the last piece of fabric between us. 

Clumsily, I wriggle out of my knickers by raising one leg at a time, and when, at last, I am completely naked, I wrap my hand around his hardness to guide him inside me. As soon as he slips between my folds, I reach for his hand to steady myself; I am more than accustomed to his size now, but it renders me breathless each time. Inch by delectable inch, he fills me, stretches me, and when he is all the way in, his groan mingles with my moan. Then we still. Neither of us moves for a moment, and only the distant sound of waves and our heavy breathing reveal the passing of time as we lose ourselves in each other’s eyes, bathed in sunlight and the summer heat. No words are spoken between us, but I know we are both savouring every single second and imprinting each little detail in our hearts to cherish when we will be apart. 

The first time I sink down on him, the pleasure is so intense that it draws a shuddering gasp from both of us. Richard follows my rhythm, lifting his hips to meet me as I lower myself onto him, taking him in as deep as I can, desperate to give him as much pleasure as he so passionately offers me. One of his hands moves to my lower back while the other slides up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak. Heat swirls through me, spreading from my core all the way to my toes, as he gazes up at me with a mixture of awe and need, the blue of his irises almost lost in the depth of his desire.

Then, between two thrusts, Richard pushes himself up to kiss me, his beard scratching my burning cheeks as I whimper against his mouth. Even though it is only mid-morning and a refreshing breeze floats in from the open doors leading onto the balcony, the air is already hot and humid, and my skin is slightly sticky, but Richard does not seem to mind. Ardently, he covers every inch of my neck with kisses, and a soft, desperate moan falls from my lips as I let my head fall back, drowning in the sensations he stirs within me. 

That is always the flaw in my plan—he knows my body too well. So despite my intention to take control and draw out his pleasure, it does not take long before he sends me over the edge. Clinging to him, I cry out, my nails digging into his tanned back as I tighten around him. And that is all it takes to send him over the edge with me. Groaning my name, he buries his face in my neck, and we cling to each other, trembling as the waves of pleasure gradually subside, leaving us breathless and spent. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, matching the rapid beat of my own, as his fingers trace lazy patterns on my back. 

“You certainly know how to wish someone ‘happy birthday,’” Richard says eons later, causing me to giggle.

“You deserve nothing less, my love,” I respond, kissing him softly before he lowers us onto the bed so that I lie on his side, one warm wrapped around his middle. Once I catch my breath, I snuggle closer and press a light kiss onto his sweat-slicked chest. “So, do you feel any different? Wiser, perhaps?”

Richard chuckles as he absently plays with my hand, then pauses. “I just feel even luckier. I mean, an old man like me, with a girl like you…”

I bite my lips but choose to lighten the mood by saying, “And I feel lucky every day I’m with you… my old man.” 

Another chuckle falls from his lips before he moves his hand up my arm, then into my hair to caress the tangled locks, prompting me to look up at him. “You really don’t think I’m old?” 

My heart tightens in my chest at the insecurity that softens his eyes. “Of course not! Not that there’s anything wrong with being old.” 

“Hm,” he mumbles, looking up at the beamed ceiling. “I’m getting more and more grey hairs—might have to start dying my hair.” 

“Don’t you dare!” He raises his eyebrows. “I happen to love your grey hairs,” I say earnestly as I run my fingers through his unruly curls. “I love the greys in your beard as well.” I accentuate my words with kisses along his bearded jaw. “I also happen to love the wrinkles at the corner of your eyes.” With my lips, I trace a path from his beard to the lines around his eyes. 

“You like my wrinkles?” Richard asks with raised eyebrows. 

I cradle his face with one hand and lean in until his lips are mere inches from mine. “I think they’re sexy,” I say before pressing a lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Really?” He sounds even more incredulous now.

I nod. “Surely I’ve told you before?”

“You haven’t.”

“Well let me rectify that, then,” I say softly, then kiss him once more as I bury one hand in his hair. “Your grey hairs are very sexy, as are the little wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. In fact, you are the sexiest man I’ve ever met—I’ve thought so since the very first time I saw you.” 

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles in amusement, but his cheeks are now red with embarrassment. 

“Yes—you were wearing a grey tweed blazer and a white button-up underneath, and your collar was undone, and I remember thinking that was very distracting,” I say, unable to hold back my giggle.

Richard grins, a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I had no idea I was distracting you so much.”

I bite my lips. “And you know—I’ve seen photos of you from when you were younger, and I can tell you, you only get better with age, darling.” 

Richard chuckles, his cheeks still red. “Yeah, I was a lanky teenager and it took me years to grow into my big nose.” 

“Well, you’ve certainly grown into it. And other appendages...”

Richard’s laughter joins mine, and his chest rumbles against me as he pulls me closer. He is still smiling when he captures my lips in a slow, toe-curling kiss. Then another, deeper, more passionate. His tongue tangles with mine as I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers pulling on the curls at the back of his head, causing him to moan and pull me even closer; my breasts are pressed into his chest now, and one of his hands slides down my back to caress my bum just as I wrap one leg around his hips, but then he groans and pulls away. 

“Well, there is one thing that doesn’t get better with age,” he begins, slightly breathless. “I don’t think I can make love to you again so soon, no matter how much I wish I could.” 

I cannot hold back my giggle as he brushes the hair from my face. His eyes shine with playfulness, but I still notice a hint of insecurity in his gaze, as though he is worried about disappointing me. I press a chaste kiss onto his lips to reassure him, then say, “It’s just as well—my legs are sore.” I kiss him again. “And I’m starving!” 

“That’s not good. We have lots of steps to go down to reach the nearest café.”

“No, we don’t. Why do you think I got up so early?” Richard raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “I got eggs, cheese, and fruit from the market. And I got us chocolate and pistachio cornettos at the bakery. I thought we could have breakfast on the balcony.” 

In response, Richard smiles and buries his face in the crook of my neck. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” I say, giggling and smiling widely as I hug him tight against me, pressing a tender kiss in his hair. 

Sometime later, we manage to leave the bed. While Richard goes to the loo, I steal one of his t-shirts to keep his scent on me even longer and slip into my knickers before going into the small kitchen. When he joins me, he helps me prepare breakfast despite my initial protests, seeing as it is his birthday. But we have always enjoyed cooking together, and when he wraps his arms around me to tell me this, I know he is thinking of how much he will miss little moments like this when he leaves. Neither of us speaks about it, though, because as long as we are here, we can pretend that time stands still, and he is not leaving anytime soon. 

We take breakfast out to the balcony, where a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the potted plants. The sun has climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the cliffs and the seaside town. As we sit across from each other, sharing laughs and stories, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixes with the salty sea breeze as the town below awakes. 

After a lovely breakfast and a long shower, we set out to explore more corners of the charming seaside town, strolling through narrow streets lined with colourful houses and charming shops. But we spend most of the afternoon at the beach, laughing and sharing stolen kisses under the warmth of the afternoon sun and in the refreshing embrace of the Ligurian Sea. In the evening, I bring Richard to a quaint restaurant, where we enjoy delicious pasta and a bottle of local wine. 

The sun has nearly set when we make our way back to the flat after dinner, our hands intertwined as I rest my head against his arm. 

“Today has been perfect, sweetheart,” he says as we reach the front door. “I don’t know how to thank you.” 

I smile up at him, my heart light and warm. “You don’t have to thank me. And the day isn’t over yet, birthday boy.” 

He raises one eyebrow and grins. “You’re spoiling me.” 

“Well, you never let me, so I’m taking advantage of this special occasion.”

Once inside, I pull him toward the balcony and make him sit down at the table. 

“Now close your eyes—and no peeking!” 

He chuckles but complies, and for a moment, I simply watch him, admiring the boyish grin that tugs at his lips and his tousled curls, enhanced by the humidity and the sea air. I cannot help but press a kiss onto his bearded cheek before darting back inside, smiling in excitement. In the kitchen, I hasten to retrieve the cake from the box, then grab the tube of decorative icing I bought this morning. The cake already looks amazing, but I want to add a little personal touch. Unfortunately, the icing comes out uneven as I try to spell out ‘Happy Birthday’ in the centre with a small heart at the end, but I know he will still appreciate it.

“I won’t sing you ‘Happy Birthday’ because I know you hate that, but I’d still like you to make a wish,” I say as I step back onto the balcony and carefully place the cake before him on the table. His eyes are still closed, and I smile to myself as I strike a match, then light the candles. “You can open your eyes now.” 

A surprised laugh tumbles from his lips as he opens his eyes and stares at the messy lettering on the cake. “Did you do that?” 

“I tried!” I reply, laughing at myself. 

“It’s perfect,” he says, raising one finger to swipe off some excess icing from the heart I made, then brings it to his lips and hums appreciatively. 

“Blow the candles before you lick the icing!” I chastise him, but I cannot stop smiling as I wrap my arms around his neck from behind. Richard stares at his cake for a moment, then blows out the candles, except one stubborn one. “Quick, or your wish won’t come true!” I say, but he succeeds in blowing it out before I finish speaking, so I cheer and press a kiss atop his hair. 

He squeezes me tight, then says, “What if it already has?” 

“What?” I ask, not quite understanding, but then I look at the candles, then back at him, and the meaning of his words is clear in his tender eyes as he gazes up at me. 

Smoke is still rising from the candles as he extends a hand toward me, inviting me into his arms, and I momentarily forget all about the delicious cake awaiting us as I sit on his lap. When he speaks, his voice is heavier than usual, though laced with tenderness. 

“You know, for so long I wondered if maybe there was something wrong with me,” he begins slowly as he absentmindedly caresses my arm, causing me to frown. “Everyone around me was falling in love, getting married, having kids, and I could never seem to make a relationship last, no matter how hard I tried. But now I understand why…I was waiting for you.” 

“Richard…” I swallow hard as myriad emotions clog my throat. 

“I’ve been on so many crappy dates over the past eight years, you wouldn’t believe. But it wasn’t these women’s fault—I tried, I really did, but I just never really clicked with anyone and I didn’t see the point in trying and—and risking my heart over again. But then I met you.” He smiles brightly and chuckles as though remembering something. “And everything was just so easy with you.” I open my mouth to retort, and seeing the look on my face, he chuckles and says, “Well, sure, we’ve had our problems—but I mean the connection between us. It just works with you—I’ve always been so comfortable with you, and you understand me in a way no one has ever understood me before. And you make me feel loved in a way no one ever has. I might not have known it at the time, but I fell in love with you the very first time we met. I remember you telling me about your research and what drew you to Tolkien’s work—and the passion in your voice was just…” He trails off then and smiles, and the love in his eyes makes my heart swell ten-fold. 

“And to think I worried I was boring you by rambling about Tolkien,” I chuckle at the memory, trying to ignore the frenzied beating of my heart.

He smiles again before pressing a soft kiss onto my lips, his arms now wrapped around my waist as the sun sinks below the horizon, submerging us in the gentle glow of twilight. 

“I know I’m leaving for a year soon…” Richard hesitantly breaks the agreement to avoid the topic of his departure during our holiday, and I look down at the unbuttoned collar of his linen shirt. “But I want you to know that… I can’t imagine my future without you. I want to enjoy many more lazy mornings with you and I want you to keep sharing all your brilliant thoughts with me.” I cannot help but chuckle and shake my head, and he smiles, squeezing my hand as he continues. “And I want us to go on many more holidays like this one where we dance under the stars and eat great food and have amazing sex,” he adds, causing me to blush, but then he swallows heavily, growing serious once more. “I guess I’m saying all this because… I want to reassure you that even though I’m leaving, you remain my priority. That future with you is my priority—and I’m sorry we have to put things on pause for a little while.” 

I swallow heavily, slightly overwhelmed by the love behind his words and the tenderness in his eyes. “I—I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart,” he responds, ever so caring and patient with me, as he rests his forehead against mine.

“You know I want all that as well, right?” I eventually say.

Richard smiles. “Yes, I know. But it’s nice to hear you say it.” 

I chuckle, then bite my lower lip. “You’re wrong about something, though,” I say, and he frowns. “We’re not putting anything on pause. It’s just something we have to go through. Sure, it might not be as nice as going on holiday in Italy or that amazing sex you referred to…” He squeezes my thigh, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “But it’s still part of that future—our future.” 

His eyes locked on mine, he raises his large hands to cradle my face. “You saying that… you don’t know how much that means to me.” 

I smile shyly before pressing my lips to his in a fleeting kiss, trying to calm down the frantic beating of my heart. “Now, how about that cake…” 

Richard laughs, squeezing my waist. “Yes, please!” he exclaims, reaching out for the knife. “How big a slice do you want?” 

I chuckle and nod in approval of the generous slice he offers me. The cake turns out to be even more delicious than it looks, and as the night air grows cooler and the streets below grow quieter, we take our time savouring it, exchanging loving glances and fleeting kisses. 

Richard was definitely right; this holiday does just keep getting better.

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321 @dianakc @sazzlep @albionscastle @evenstaredits @mistresskayla-blog1

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[signor-signor]

Trending 27th - April 2024

What do you think the inside of the Star Nomad would look like, and what kind of rooms would there be?

Where do I even begin? Since the Star Nomad would be carrying folks back to their planets, I think there’d be hallways upon hallways on every deck, and there’d be either staircases, an elevator system, or both. Perhaps the Lords of Illumination could provide their own light for the entire ship, if they’re among the refugees, that is.

Maybe one of the decks would be reserved as some kind of temporary zoo. Of course, the larger animals, including the pit monster from The Birthday Boy, would have to be shrunk down by Neckbeard’s minimizing spell.

With the Watchdogs on board, their sleeping space would be just as condensed as their sleeping quarters on the Skullship. We already know Hater would have to share a room with Wander, but in the case of Sylvia and Peepers, I would imagine they’d take turns steering the ship and napping (imagine Peepers standing on a crate when he’s at the helm). The main four would have to live right under the helm where the star-shaped window is.

As more folks are being dropped off on their home planets, more rooms would become vacant, thus making the perfect opportunity for Wander to reserve those rooms for villains and keep them safe from Star Force Enforcement Force until he finds places where they can keep them safe (e.g. Sourdough/Evil Sandwich wrapped in a refrigerator at Blarpee’s).

I have been imagining the Star Nomad acting as some kind of cruise line with so many people on board. Clancy and Nancy of the Fancy Shmancys are in the hotel business, so maybe they’d know how to keep things in orderly fashion from buffets to recreational activities. Oh, and maybe there’d be a big room similar to the United Nations where the rulers of their planets can discuss their plans for the restored galaxy and such.

Maybe, juuuhhhhhst maybe, there’d be a spot somewhere under the stern where the fan that blows into the orbble wand masts is powered. You know how in Yogi’s Gang, the flying ark is powered by Magilla Gorilla running on a treadmill getting bananas in front of him? That particular spot would be for Huckleberry Knucklehead, and in front of him would be a lollipop. Worry not, though, for his teeny tiny parents would be there to watch over him. For every planet stop, he gets a lollipop.

There’s no telling where the ships owned by Starbella, Ripov, and Major Threat are, but considering the latter was said to be a recurring character in S3, I’m sure he’d hang around on the Star Nomad to be Hater’s mentor whenever necessary.

See how much creativity you can put into WOY if you put your mind to it? I look forward to seeing fan content related to the Star Nomad.

[jacobwren]

“Did I say that a large majority of books in the lesbian romance genre are poorly written? This is the case for hetero and other queer romances, too. It’s an asshole thing to say but no less true. The genre does not regard language as a living force, as an inhabitable space, a space for encounter. Rather, each sentence tends to be treated as if it were a sharp-edged container with one function. Like: point. Or: explain. Or: dramatize. It goes: “Lucy opened the refrigerator.” “I drove home.” “We looked at each other with heat in our eyes.” “Doug nodded.” “Bess was puzzled.” “After everything that happened yesterday, Morgan knew what she needed to do.” In a way, these are the sentences we live with. Maybe we don’t say them, but this is what we’re acting out all day, and someone had the bright idea, yes, let’s use these sentences for writing. Conversely, though, literary fiction is bad with love. Very very bad. Like ugh, could this be any more devastating, any heavier or more hopeless? I do it too. I leave my characters sitting on hilltops for all eternity. I have them being swept out of a familiar world into an unknown and dangerous one. People walking the streets desperately alone, fleeing a crisis they can’t even see. So… yeah… could I write something that made people feel good – women, I guess, or people who were excited to see women fall for each other – and could the language have some aliveness to it? Be porous? Be responsive? Make atmospheres?” – Renee Gladman, My Lesbian Novel

[sevcasejay1chicago]

sweetheart if you don't mind ofc Whould you write me a imagine of me and Will Halstead pliss

Refrigerator Light- Will Halstead

Summary: After locking eyes at Molly’s three years ago, you find yourself slow dancing in the refrigerator light with your husband, Will Halstead.

Warnings: none really. Hints to drinking and morning sickness, but nothing blatantly obvious.

Authors note: Writing for Will is a bit out of my wheelhouse, but I hope you enjoy it! Sorry for the wait!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you met Will Halstead was across the bar at Molly’s. It was karaoke night, so Stella and Brett forced you onto the small stage after a few drinks to help convince you a bit easier. You sang “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis, but in a female key. Will had barely been paying attention to the karaoke as everyone that got up there was pretty mediocre and couldn’t catch his attention. However, as soon as you started singing, Will stopped talking mid sentence and turned his back to Jay and some of the other intelligence unit in favor of watching you. He was so mesmerized that he missed the way Jay and some of the other occupants at the table started joking about love at first sight and what not. They were right.

You had your eyes closed as you sang until you felt a pair of eyes burning into you. You slowly slipped your eyes open and scanned the crowded bar until you locked eyes with Will Halstead. You had heard of him and passed by him in the ED when you and Brett dropped off patients, but Brett was more of a talker and normally filled the docs in while you stocked the ambo. You recognized him immediately and he recognized you. You felt an emotion that you haven’t felt before. Like you finally found your home, your answer to living. Something clicked when you finally locked eyes and there was no denying the fact that you found love at first sight.

Anyone in the bar that was paying a bit of attention noticed the change in the atmosphere. The song went from you just singing it to having meaning to you for someone in that bar. The emotions in your voice gave it away to those who were paying attention, but what you did once you finished singing sealed it for those that were pretty oblivious. Once you finished, you put the microphone back on its stand and pushed your way through the crowd, Will doing the same. When you finally reached each other, you noticed he was just slightly taller than you as you peered up at him with a grin.

“Hi.” You whispered, letting Will take you by the waist and pull you closer as someone else got up and followed your love song with another slow one.

“Hey.” Will whispered back, bringing his face closer to yours.

The connection was palpable. A warmth was spreading from the two of you as you danced, your arms wrapped around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. For the majority of the song, you guys slow danced and stared into each other’s eyes. Unknown to the two if you, Stella, Brett, Jay, and Kim were all snapping pictures of the two of you. They knew this was going to be a forever thing. Luckily, they believed it because now, a picture of the first kiss you shared at the end of that song is on the mantle next to your wedding picture.

Now, 3 years later, Will finds his pregnant wife standing in the dark kitchen at 3 am. The only light on is coming from the refrigerator in an attempt to not wake your sleeping husband, but the baby wanted pickles, peanut butter, and vanilla ice cream. So, here you were, eating while illuminated by the refrigerator light, knowing you would regret falling for the craving, but you couldn’t sleep until you fulfilled it.

Will walks up behind you and slides his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “Now, Mrs. Halstead, why are we eating like a little gremlin at 3am and not in bed?” He teases, lightly rubbing the slight bump under one of his shirts you slipped on.

You didn’t even bother turning around when you answered, instead you leaned into your husband. “Well, Mr. Halstead, your little gremlin child wanted this and I wasn’t going to be able to sleep until I fed the peanut.” You said, matter of factly around a bite of your concoction.

Will chuckled and kissed your cheek. “First of all, it’s DOCTOR Halstead. Second of all, that’s disgusting.” Will said, finally getting a good look at what you were eating.

You shrugged, putting another spoonful in your mouth before replying. “Not my idea. The gremlin. It’s the gremlin.” You said, shaking your head. “It’s actually not bad.”

Will grunted as he watched you finish what you had left. “Your gonna be saying something different in the morning.” Will commented, inwardly cringing as he thought about the start you would have to your morning in a few hours.

You shrugged, resigned to your fate. “You’ll be there. I’ll hate it and I’ll panic, but you’ll be there and it’s all worth it for this little munchkin.” You replied, glancing through the kitchen doorway as you leaned fully into Will, catching the pictures on the mantle. “For now, dance with me.” You said, turning around and looking up at your husband.

Will chuckled, looking at the time and then back to you. “Baby. It’s 3am and we have no music.” Will pointed out, pulling you into his chest anyways, mostly out of instinct. It was weird to feel that slight divide between the two of you from baby Halstead showing up some, but Will held you as close as possible anyways.

You thought for a moment before giving Will a small, almost bashful grin. Then, you started singing the song that you fell in love to. Will pulled you as close as possible as you rested your head on his chest. Will swayed you both around the kitchen until the song was over, then he leaned down to kiss you. He didn’t comment on the taste of your lips after the little snack you just finished. He just held you and kissed you like he did when you first clicked that night. All in the light from the refrigerator.

[darkmaga-returns]

By Chuck Baldwin

Chuck Baldwin Live

October 19, 2024

Most of our country’s major media, politicians and government employees, as well as the owners and representatives of Big Business, are not only mute on the subject of America’s broken borders and the invasion of illegal aliens—including violent criminals—into America, but they are also capitalizing on this criminal activity.

My wife and I recently purchased a new refrigerator from Lowes, and it was delivered by two Venezuelans, neither of whom could speak a word of English. They then proceeded to take pictures of our house as they left. There could be no GOOD reason for doing that. Needless to say, that was the last appliance we will ever buy from that company. And this is in our little town in Northwest Montana.

The true nature of the increase in criminal activity (the very fact that illegals are here is illegal) associated with the invasion of illegals into America will be hidden by governments and newsmakers for as long as possible. In the meantime, the U.S. is becoming less and less safe—no matter where we live.

Of course, the jeopardous situation that we are forced to live in is the result of the Biden-Harris administration over the last four years that has—for its own political purposes—shown us Americans that they care absolutely NOTHING about our safety, peace and tranquility.

Just five months before Luis Miguel Calzadilla-Rojas — a Venezuelan migrant and alleged Tren de Aragua gangbanger — was arrested after a shooting outside a probation office in Aurora, Colorado, he was welcomed into the US — thanks to a controversial immigration program launched by the Biden-Harris administration.

Calzadilla-Rojas entered the country using CBP One — an app that is designed to allow asylum seekers a legal pathway to entry into America.

He’s just one of 1.3 million migrants who have come into the country through legal routes created by the Biden-Harris admin in less than two years. [Emphasis added]

The programs were created unilaterally, without Congressional approval or input.

Homeland Security sources tell The Post that there’s almost no vetting involved for most migrants, especially if their home countries — including Venezuela, Haiti and Cuba — refuse to cooperate with American law enforcement.

[loominggaia]

ZAREENITE CULTURE

Zareen Empire boasts some of the most advanced industrial technology in the world. The Zareenite lifestyle trades primitive struggles for modern convenience, though this convenience has led to many further struggles such as pollution, overcrowding, and crushing capitalism.

Zareenites are stereotyped as lazy, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. They are forced to work long hours for the majority of their lives to support their modern conveniences, and most of them never get the opportunity to retire. Zareenite life is fast-paced, and Zareenites can seem impatient because of it. They are often hedonistic and overindulgent, as their long work hours leave them deficient in personal fulfilment. They tend to fill the void with excess food, drugs, and leisure activities.

The average Zareenite feels a detachment from nature. The majority live in jungles of iron and concrete with little to no vegetation around them. They are quite alert and street-smart, however, and they can easily operate complicated gadgets, as they have been exposed to these things their whole lives. Their kingdom is a bright and noisy place, and so they have developed a high tolerance for chaos. Because of this, Zareenites are stereotyped as being loud and obnoxious.

Zareenite culture is highly materialistic, valuing money and possessions above all else. Greed is seen as a virtue, and those who have the most wealth are the most respected.

This empire has a sour relationship with the local nymphs due to its refusal to sign the Nymph Pact. It suffers nymph attacks regularly, and as a result, its people do not think highly of nymphs. Zareenites also have a hostile attitude towards Aquarians, Evangelites, Mogdiri, Damijani, monsters, fae, and mages, among others. Most Zareenites consider themselves atheists and do not believe they were created by Gaia, nor do they believe that Gaia is an intelligent, living being.

Many believe that pollution is just a natural byproduct of commoner civilization and cannot be avoided. All Zareenites have access to plumbing and electricity, but due to the energy crises in recent times, most do not own personal vehicles beyond bicycles or small gas-powered scooters.

The average Zareenite lives in a small apartment with a refrigerator, plumbed sinks and toilet, radio, electric lights, and a gas-powered oven. Owning a television and other electronics requires expensive licenses, so most Zareenites entertain themselves in public spaces like bars, theatres, and arcades.

Luckily, Zareen has extensive and efficient public transportation systems, so citizens can get wherever they want to go with ease. Zareenites view their homes as simply a place to sleep and tend to spend most of their free time in public. Zareenite businesses facilitate this by staying open very late or even 24/7.

As the proverb goes, “Boredom is foreign to the Zareenite.”

---> Back to Main Zareen Empire Article <---

SEE ALSO

Ask: Technology

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Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[arctic-hands]

My milk journey has been

First meal: rice porridge with breast milk

Start dropping weight and can't stay out of the bathroom by age seven, get told to avoid dairy so mom buys Lactaid milk for a year. Whole family despises it and Mac and cheese in particular is now terrible and avoided. I'm still very sick anyway

Be diagnosed with Crohn's at age nine. Resume consuming regular dairy

Twelve-ish: begin to feel a little distress at eating ice cream. Does not stop me from accepting a Dairy Queen cheesequake blizzard reward for single handedly winning a science class quiz game that was supposed to be played in teams but no one wanted me. By sheer force of will and remarkable sphincter control for an IBD patient, mange to wait it out get home that day before having a violent reaction.

Thirteen: throw up violently at school after having cheese sticks for my free lunch. Convince myself it was just the greasiness of the meal that set me off

Fourteen: go into high school conceding the point that I'm lactose intolerant. Unsuccessful at lobbying the head principal to provide lactose free strawberry milk. Start paying more money than a lunch would have even cost if I didn't qualify for free lunch at the snack bar for juice or V8 in order to not go thirsty at lunch. Repeatedly throw up when the only option for lunch other than the very popular spicy chicken every Wednesday that I couldn't tolerate mouth-wise or gut-wise was the same cheesesticks that I had in middle school

Sometime later in high school: discover the Meijer's house brand of lactose free milk actually tastes decent.

Seventeen-ish. Find a hair in the carton of Meijer's lactose free milk and swear off it forever. Try rice milk

(Also an aside at seventeen: develop celiac disease and I thanked my lucky stars that it was polite enough to have waited until I was done with wildly ableist school and too old to trick or treat)

I forget which age but I was a fresh and new adult: discover rice milk ice cream. Desperately pretend it tastes and feels like real ice cream.

Shortly after: try coconut milk. It's tasty, but hardly a neutral milk-like taste and doesn't go well when mixed with other ingredients. Coconut milk ice cream is likewise lackluster

Nineteen? Discover the boxed and shelf stable almond milk. Begin to have hope.

Twenty: find out they started making a cartoned and refrigerated almond milk that tastes brilliant

Twenty three? Realize I have forgotten the taste of dairy milk. Almond milk reigns Supreme

Twenty-six: find out what an environmental menace the non-native aimond trees used in American almond milk is to drought-stricken California. Feel guilty but also feel like there's no real way to avoid drinking almond milk

Twenty-eight: Oat milk explodes in the plant milk scene. I ignore this because there's a high likelihood of cross contamination with wheat in both the field crop and in the processing of oats in the same facilities of wheat. No major and common oat milk brands have any gluten free signage

Twenty nine: Oatly converts its American version to gluten free oats brown in dedicated fields and processing facilities. Try it and it's decent. (CAUTION: some celiacs have a reaction to oats themselves regardless of any cross-contamination. I, however, am not one of them.) Become mostly fully converted to oat milk but still keep ordering almond milk when I get an iced coffee because Dunkin and the anarchist coffee shop/bookstore never label which brand of oat milk they use and you're a millennial and despise phone calls

Thirty: Planet Oats is a bit cheaper so I try it on a lark and like it better. Be bummed that it comes in a smaller carton that Oatly and thus is more expensive in the long run. Start putting oat milk in my oatmeal and have a religious crisis because it seems like a decadent and cardinal sin. Remember I'm an atheist and it's okay to be a lil hedonistic and perverse esp where food is concerned

Nearly thirty-one: realize halfway in making this post that it's entirely boring and pointless and is too long for such an uninteresting subject but goddammit I've sunk the cost and will finish this stupid post.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ALEX DEWITT (DC COMICS)

1.) The term “fridging” is literally based on Alex and what happened to her. She was killed off violently by a bad guy trying to get at her boyfriend only a couple issues after she was introduced (making it obvious they only brought her in to kill her off for shock value). Her death did very little to the narrative other than hurt her boyfriend Kyle and was done in an exceedingly horrifying and violent way. (Bad guy came to the door with flowers and threatening note, broke in and attacked her, choking her to death, before [off panel] chopping her body up and sticking it in the refrigerator as a “surprise” for her boyfriend. This obviously is really fucked up and she deserves better and should win this actually (a vote for Alex is a vote for all fridging victims [in spirit])

2.) It doesn’t get much worse than being the character whose death originated the “fridging” trope. In Green Lantern Vol. 3 #54, Kyle Rayner comes home to find that Alexandra, his girlfriend, has been killed by the villain Major Force and stuffed into the refrigerator.

Alexandra DeWitt is the character whose misogynistic treatment coined the term where a character, usually female, is killed off purely to make the main character, usually male, feel bad. Even if there are other characters who have been subjected to similar levels of misogyny, Alexandra DeWitt’s treatment has been essentially immortalized.

3.) I know she’s not going to win but shout out to my home girl, literally the trope namer for women shoved in fridges. All anyone ever knows about her is that she was Kyle’s girlfriend and got murdered for his character development, even though she had plenty of potential to be her own character.

LEAFPOOL (WARRIOR CATS)

1.) For context, she’s a medicine cat, which is essentially the priest/healer of an ancestor-worshipping religion called StarClan, and there’s a rule in the living Clans prohibiting anyone from dating outside their Clan, and also prohibiting medicine cats from dating/having kits.

So she’s breaking the law by seeing a cat named Crowfeather in another Clan, and eventually gets pregnant. She secretly gives the children to her sister to raise instead, because the kits would’ve grown up in misery if their true parentage was known. When the secret gets out that they’re her kits, Leafpool became demonized to hell and back.

Crowfeather, who ALSO broke the law and fathered the kits, only got a slap on the wrist, and he’s almost certainly going to become leader. But Leafpool was demoted from her role as medicine cat (by her FATHER), treated like scum by her whole community (aside from her sister and best friend), and her children despise her for lying to them (one even tries to get her to kill herself). The narrative constantly paints her as a liar that’s getting what she deserves, and even has her children insult her at HER FUNERAL, years after the secret got out. She’s a main character and she dies OFF SCREEN between books!

It’s not even over when she dies. StarClan decides to hold a trial for her when she dies to see if she deserves to join them, or if she’s banished to cat hell for eternity. War criminals who abetted in genocide never got a trial, they were just let in. An incel who tried to kill 4 people because he was mad his ex dumped him got let in without question. But the cat whose only crime was dating someone in another Clan and having kids gets a full trial? Keep in mind their sire gets a whole book about StarClan coming down to help him, because clearly only she deserved to be punished.

Leafpool’s life is nonstop suffering because of misogynistic double standards. Treated like the devil for getting pregnant and wanting to give her kids a better life, while all the men involved get excused, coddled, and placed into positions of power.

2.) she went through So much bullshit. squirrelflight (her sister) too. i’m sure she’ll also get submitted. Cat God (starclan) vaguely told her to run away with the man she liked and then got mad at her when she did it. and then she was punished for it the rest of her life. She had kids with him and those kids were like Incredibly Important and wouldn’t exist if not for her but she’s still punished for it. BY STARCLAN. Who told her to have those kids in the first place . and of course the books just treat this like it’s pretty much normal and fair

3.) just like her sister squirrelflight, she does many things that male characters do and faces drastically different consequences. she and another cat, named crowfeather, run away from their clans to get cat married. this is illegal because they’re from different clans. when they get home, leafpool is pregnant. when all of this is revealed(years later) their punishments could not be more different. when they first come back, leafpool is suspected, talked poorly about, and outlasted. we aren’t shown any consequences towards crowfeather at all. after the grand reveal of leafpool having kids(and giving them away to her sister since she’s a doctor and doctors can’t gave kids) leafpool is forced to give up her position as doctor, is disowned as her kids aunt figure, and completely outcasted by the whole clan(mostly the same happens to her sister). crowfeather is just minorly treated poorly and gets a cat divorce.