#I’m going to finish working on the first of the two winner pieces from my raffle tomorrow

[jackobbit]

RAAAAAAAA

It’s!!! It’s something!!! Certainly not my best work but I haven’t drawn in like a week so I’ll TAKE IT

Have some Solar Flare being a goober :]

Maybe I’ll do something similar with my Bloodmoon soon enough, but for now, we’ve got this!

[ID: A filled, digitally drawn doodle page that depicts Solar Flare from the working for E.V.I.L. Au in various poses, all are placed against a white background. Solar Flare is a boxy orange and yellow robot with several bent Sun-like rays, large triangular shoulder pads and large limbs. They have dark eyes with lighter pupils, and an air vent for a mouth. From left to right, they are first depicted from the chest and up with a bashful expression as they press the tips of their index fingers together. Next, they are seen looking over their shoulder. To the right of that is a small doodle of the character as a melted ice cream bar on a stick, complete with one eye dropping further down than the other. To the far right is a picture of Solar Flare with an angry expression, smoke bellowing from their air vent mouth. To the far left is a drawing of Solar Flare winking as they hold a large bouquet of purple flowers behind their back, followed by a doodle of them stimming happily by waving their arms up and down. This is followed by a doodle of Solar Flare as an autism creature, and then one full body image of Solar Flare extending one hand out towards the viewer. The bottom right hand corner is comprised of three doodles, the first being Solar Flare smiling at a bird that has perched on their hand, Solar Flare standing with their arms behind their back, and finally a doodle of them holding up one arm to present a floating Star. /End ID]

[acommonloon]

Eh it’s just words, yeah?

When I saw Upland post about a new sparkling golden ale to be released today, called rāe, I hummed - ray a drop of golden sun. I did, I’m weird. Right?

I struggled a bit today to find my place after the work was done. I first drove to a fav place that had 64 beers on tap but after looking the list over…twice . Nah

Instead I rolled the dice and had lunch at a chain. They only had two dozen or so beers but at the very top of the list was the beer of the month- Dogfish Head’s Sea Quench Ale. I’d had it before and remembered it to be a salty, limey, delight. It was 90deg out so yeah.

When I ordered the chop salad, sub seared salmon, the bartender asked how I wanted the salmon cooked. Ehhhh “No one’s asked me that before.” I admitted. She smiled and said, same until I worked here. Tbh I was thinking it would be over temp regardless, so I just said medium. It came out well done. Just words.

During my meal, I watched the Orioles and the Yankees ply and swapped words with three old gals at the bar who happened to be from Baltimore and were in the Navy.

After a stop at my local bottle shop, where Angie found me a sixer of the Sea Quench I’d enjoyed at lunch, I decided I’d see if Upland had their new golden ale available for take away.

It wasn’t in the coolers at the front so I plopped down at the huge empty bar and waited to be noticed. The bartender looked alarmingly young. She had a piece of cloth tied around her head, subduing long black hair, dangling earrings, and she was tall and thin. When she greeted me, I asked for the new beer.

She took two glasses to the taps and began to fill them both. One glass was a typical Belgian style goblet and a stream of golden liquid began to fill it. The other one was this.

A tall tulip filled with a lemon colored draught. Oookay.

The beer was good even if it wasn’t really golden and the sparkling carbonation was softer than any golden ale. The combo of lemon and ginger was/is a proven winner. When the bartender came back, she asked how I liked it. I said I did. Then I stupidly asked if she knew Dogfish Head’s Sea Quench.

She rush away saying she hadn’t been to the DogFish Head.

Well no. I thought. It’s in Delaware. I was going to compare/contrast the two beers but…just words.

Anyway.

I’m enjoying both at home this evening. The rāe presents a pillowy soft carbonation like a flat soda, the lemon and ginger combine for a balanced finish, not really sweet or bitter. It’s a bit of a thirst quencher, a shower beer, a lawnmower beer. The Sea Quench is even less aggressively carbonated with the lime and salt combo finishing more salty. It’s a margarita beer.

Just words.

Both are lower alcohol beers I’ll be glad to drink over the weekend with lots of words.

[vodid]

MORE QUESTIONSSSS

Sooo, first one is, what advice do you have for aspiring writers and artists that follow you? Follow your passion, practice a lot, don’t get distracted, etc?

What’s the best part about being an author and a writer? The satisfaction when you finally finish a piece, or when a lot of people like and share your artwork and book?

Do you read any fanfictions? I’m wondering because I’ve almost ran out of good Prowl/Jazz fanfictions and I want more to cure my need for cuteness and angst with those two 🤲

Do you listen to music when you write/draw? If so, what kind of music, or does it depend on the scene when your writing/drawing. It definitely depends on what I’m writing at the moment to determine the music lmao

Will you ever make your Obsidian King fanfiction into a little series? Like after you’re done the first one with Prowl and Jazz whenever, will you plan on doing one with like Bluestreak and a love interest and how that would all play out? Or is the Obsidian King just a standalone?

Have you ever cried when you were writing your books? The Obsidian King, Vulnerability or otherwise? I cried during Vulnerability :( poor Bumblebee man and I relate to it so much too! Like, I absolutely love your writing in both because it feels as if I’m actually there, y’know?

Do you plan on continuing to learn German despite when you finish your Vulnerability fanfiction one day and only need a bit of German for it? I find it cool to learn German! I’m learning French at the moment, but I’m thinking about learning German after.

ANYWAYS, too many questions, I have more though. I was planning to send this before you woke up at some point, but then I had to go to a doctors appointment and I ran out of data unfortunately. Can’t wait to hear your answers if you respond to this!

hello anon <3

advice for aspiring artists/writers? you hit the nail on the head lol gonna preach the three P's i told myself and others years ago: practice, patience and passion. when you're a growing artist (which you always will be) you need to have patience with yourself as you navigate through the mistakes and learning curves as you practice. the passion keeps you motivated. if you don't have that passion and patience, you might have a hard time with the practice and growth

best part of being a writer? short answer: i love getting comments that analyze my work. long answer: i have been trying my best to focus less on the end product and its reception when it comes to writing, much like my art. this can even lead back to the first question: i personally believe you should not focus most on those things, but the process more. the things you learned, the steps you took, the parts that felt therapeutic for you. that's what should be the best part. (but ofc, i do love the comments i get on my writing and it certainly makes it feel even more worth it. analyses on my writing? THE best.)

j/p fanfic recs most of my favorites come from beloved rizobact. winner takes all and crystal ghosts are my favs from her. it's been a long time since i read this one, but domino milkshake was a fun one as far as i remember. if you've already exhausted those, the j/p zine just published some fics ',:)

do you listen to music when you draw/write? lot of times, i focus best with no music or a single song on repeat. tho i don't like the silence as much, it's quite boring. i like to have something so i'll either listen to music or put on a youtube video, usually mark or jack, sometimes reaction videos from other youtubers. i don't usually switch up what i'm listening to based on what i'm writing bc most times, it's the music that determines the art but it's not the biggest influence. i tend to listen to whatever my neurodivergent brain decided to attach to that week ...or month. rn, i'm still working through exhausting a german playlist and "rising kingdom" (yes, the minecraft song lol)

will obsidian king be a series? this is the plan as i realize i may not be able to juggle the various stories all in one fic (i'm sure i could but the way i had started the obsidian king wasn't the right setup for it) the next one i want to tackle after j/p is megoplita's story. from when they all first fell in love to the beginning of the autobot-decepticon war. bluestreak and the twins may not get their own story for a long while, if at all, since i do not have anything figured out post-war.

have you ever cried while writing a fic? not any of my current ones, no. but i have cried writing you are my flower iirc and infinity (i took prowl's death HARD, man.) vulnerability does hit home with me since it's just pure projection with bumblebee, a lot of it was actual sensations and thoughts i've experienced, but it was more therapeutic than upsetting for me. take care of urself anon <:)!

do you plan to continue learning german after you finish vulnerability? hell yeah, i hope to! i don't have a solid end goal going into this, because i highly doubt i will reach any sort of fluency, but it will always be a fun and interesting thing to learn. if i did have to give myself a goal, it would be to write a fic in german to test my knowledge! but for now, it's mostly just keeping my brain busy and engaged with something new

u can always drop more questions if u want <3

[bravetemptation]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation 2022

It’s December 31st, and here we are. What a YEAR. Let’s take a look:

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 7

2. Word Count posted for the year: 247,189 words (holy shit 😅)

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

4. Pairings: Harry/Louis; Liam Payne/Oli Wright; Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson

5. Story with the most:

6. Kudos: 491 - From This Moment On

7. Bookmarks: 149 - From This Moment On

8. Comments: 58 - From This Moment On

9. Work I’m most proud of and why: A Little Twist of Fate - this fic is so long, probably one of the longest I’ve ever written, and it’s fantasy, which is my favorite genre. Even though it has the least interaction, I don’t think I wrote a better one than that this year.

10. Work I’m least proud of and why: I don’t really have one - I think everything I wrote this year was pretty good 😂

11. Share or describe a favorite review you received: every comment I get is a blessing - I don’t usually get a lot of them, so when someone takes the time out to even say three words about how the fic impacted them, I feel very pleased.

12. A time when writing was really really hard: I would have to say in June and July, when I had four WIPs going at the same time, which my beta will tell you I NEVER DO. I’m a one fic at a time type of person. I couldn’t figure out which one to write or where to take any of them. Thankfully they all got done and published 😂 that and right after my first Harry residency show when I got Covid and it knocked me out for two weeks 😂

13. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: All of the Zouis content I did in A Little Twist of Fate, because it came off so realistic that @daggerandrose thought it sounded like a zouis fic and I was completely unaware that I could even write any pairing other than Larry.

14. A favorite excerpt of your writing: The first time Harry and Louis touch properly in Your Gift Is Wasted On Me:

“Come on, come on,” he heard Harry mutter, and he completely agreed. But finally, they were doing it.

“And the winner …”

Louis held his breath.

“Of this season of the Great British Bake Off is …”

Louis grabbed Harry’s hand, squeezing it tightly as he waited the agonizing three seconds.

“Marge!”

“Fucking yes!” Louis yelled, jumping off the sofa and dancing around. Niall was on his feet too, but as Louis turned to Harry, he found him sitting there, his mouth open slightly, staring at the screen as though he wasn’t even seeing it.

“Harry, what …”

“You held my hand.”

15. How did you grow as a writer this year? I allowed myself to just write. In years past, I kind of did maybe two stories a year just because I wanted them to be different, I wanted the perfect prompt, or I was just lazy as hell. But this year I was pushing out fics every few months and it felt GREAT.

16. How do you hope to grow next year? I hope to possibly enter a fest or two so that I can get a little more traffic on my fics (as well as querying in real life for my finished book and finish writing the new one I’m working on - that’s going to be super exciting)

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer? (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc) Every person who helped me work through plot holes and major mistakes and read my work before it was even out - especially @sunflowersometimes @daggerandrose @chloehl10 . They’re my main source of motivation ❤️

18. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year? Not specifically, though I like to think I put a piece of myself into every fic and every character, and if you know me really well, you’ll be able to catch it. But I wrote a fantasy fic which is literally what I want my real life to be so I THINK I’ll go with that 😂

19. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers? Write. Write every day, even if it’s only three pages or three sentences or three words. Write from your heart. Don’t let the interaction - or lack thereof - of others dictate how you feel about your work. Ask other writers to beta for you - it’s more fun when you work with someone else.

20. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year? I have several projects in the works: The Dear Devoted Delicate Series (one mini fic for every year they’ve been together); If There’s No You (an amnesia fic); If We Can’t Stop The Bleeding (a vampire fic); and Place In Me (a 1D reunion fic). I’m sure there will be more but that’s all I really have planned at the moment. Hopefully you’ll get to see them ALL 😘

21. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. Anyone who wants to do this can - I’m sure most of you have already been tagged 💞

[bllsbailey]

Want to Support Conservatives in the Arts? ‘Arise’ by Glass Hammer Is a Great Place to Start

A vital element in the battle for conservatism is refusing to cede ground in the culture war. While, in general, Hollywood and the entertainment media are fiercely dedicated to shoving the progressive agenda down a gullible public’s throat, there remain artists who embody 1 Kings 19:18 by not bowing down to the modern-day Baal of blasphemy and hedonism. Such is the case with “Arise,” the latest release by veteran heavy progressive rockers Glass Hammer. It’s a winner in every sense of the word.

The brainchild of musician and author Steve Babb, with quality abetment by vocalist Hannah Hale Pryor, “Arise” is a concept piece that is equally enjoyable following along with the plot or as a stand-alone listening experience. As described by the artist:

Set against the backdrop of deep space exploration, ‘Arise’ follows the extraordinary journey of an android dispatched by overzealous scientists to uncover the galaxy’s hidden wonders. The album’s lyrics, liner notes, and artwork convey a tale of cosmic dread and wonder that doesn’t begin with a big bang, but, according to Glass Hammer mastermind Steve Babb, “...definitely ends with one.” He’s joined by singer Hannah Hale Pryor and guitarist Reese Boyd for Glass Hammer’s twenty-first studio album. “‘Arise’ is my progressive-rock spin on space rock,” says Babb. “I’m still flirting with doom metal on a couple of songs, as we did on the last two albums, but there’s also psych-rock and even 80’s influence going on in the music. Even so, it’s very much a prog-rock album, just one that touches on other styles.”

Babb thoroughly understands the alliance of sledgehammer and satin that marks the best prog metal. The power is evident throughout, but there is no beating the listener into submission. Adventuresome melodies flow unhindered, allowed to breathe and expand in a natural manner minus gimmickry. Pryor has the rare gift of a voice that is simultaneously sweet and listenable, plus packing more than enough punch to let the rockers rock. She is a singer, not a screamer, and Pryor’s presence makes “Arise” all the better.

The album’s instrumental passages are a treat, especially the album’s closing track, “The Return of Daedalus.” With guitarist Boyd losing his mind as he uninhibitedly shreds without dipping into self-indulgence, the song is molten lava from start to finish; a nearly 17-minute tour de force leaving the listener wanting even more. Good stuff, indeed.

Did I mention Babb is a rock-solid (no pun intended) conservative? While wearing neither politics nor his deep Christian faith on his sleeve, Babb remains steadfast in both. As he explained in a 2022 interview:

“I was raised with conservative values and attended conservative churches. And though my take on Scripture dictates that I hold certain positions, I credit an ability for critical thinking and a belief in absolute truth to be the primary factors in determining my politics. There is an enduring moral order: human nature is constant and moral truths, permanent.” He adds, “My faith informs my music / lyrics and my political views. I’m very passionate about the music and strongly opinionated about politics. However, I don’t mix politics and music. I’d alienate well over half our audience if I did. They trust us not to do that, and I think most of them know where we stand anyway. It’s our job to entertain them, and bring joy and wonder into their lives, not lecture them.”

MORE: Showing Progressive Rockers Glass Hammer Some RedState Love

Sometimes, an introductory feathery touch works far better than immediately beating someone over the head with your views. Caution is not always compromise. While there is nothing feathery nor compromising about Glass Hammer’s “Arise” — the album rocks from start to finish with intelligent hardness — it stands not only as an excellent source from which conservatives are able to enjoy quality art made by people of like views but also serves as a well-honed sword slicing through the myth that conservatives have nothing to offer artistically save second-rate jingoistic preaching to the choir.

The album is available at the artist’s Bandcamp page.

[modanisgf]

SWEET BOY / KIM MINJI

☆ summary: in which minji tries to get the attention of the cute mc at an award show. who she’s secretly had a crush on since their trainee days.

☆ pairing: idol!minji x idol!reader

☆ warnings: i don’t watch awards shows very often so don’t call me out on smth wrong 😭, profanity, reader is 03 (a year older than minji), not proofread..

☆ word count: <1k

masterlist

minji adjusted her hair piece a bit, looking straight into the mirror frowning. she hoped this night would go well, her group still being pretty new and for them to be performing was big.

newjeans was also nominated for a couple awards, so it was a huge night for them. minji checked on her members frequently, displaying her mom-like personality towards them.

“are you sure you’re fine hyein? do you need water or anything?” minji says making the maknae sigh.

“i’m perfectly fine minji, i know you’re nervous but i promise everything will be fine.” hyein says.

“sorry, i’m just afraid of what the fans will say about our performance.” minji confesses, relaxing a bit when hanni and danielle come to help reassure her.

“i’m sure the fans will love our performance ji, i mean we worked really hard on it.” hanni says.

“plus you should be excited, you get to see y/n and perform in front of our seniors!” danielle says making minji blush.

“y/n’s here?” minji says making her group roll their eyes.

“we know you knew she was here minji, she never leaves your mind.” hanni teases, receiving a push from minji.

“she does leave my mind, in fact i haven’t talked about her in a while.” minji says, to which haerin perks up.

“two days is a while?” she says, minji sinking into her seat.

“let’s just go tell our manager we’re ready.” minji grumbles, exiting the room while her members follow in suit giggling at the oldest’s behavior.

“hello golden disk awards!” you say into the mic waving to everyone, cheers filling the room.

your mc partner, yeonjun also waved and said hello the cheers rising as you both introduced yourselves.

minji couldn’t help but wish that she was up there with you, she thought you looked amazing that night. you were nothing less than perfect in her eyes. unfortunately she was almost sure you barely knew of her existence, yet she was infatuated with you.

what she didn’t know was that you were actually looking for her in the idol section, as yeonjun was reading out another category. your eyes met and she sent you a small wave to which you waved back as subtly as possible, yeonjun looking at you confused.

“and the winner for song of the year is..” yeonjun begins.

“ditto newjeans!” he finishes, the crowd erupting into cheers you and yeonjun both clapping as well.

newjeans made their way up to the stage and you quietly greeted and congratulated them. minji looked at you with a smile which you returned, your eyes meeting again for a longer time now being interrupted as her group started their speech.

you and yeonjun stood backstage momentarily, the older boy nudging you.

“what was that with minji, do you guys have history?” he asks, making you groan.

“you’re so nosy, she just started smiling at me i guess. so being kind i smiled back.” you say, to which he nods.

“when you two get together in the future tell me first alright?” yeonjun teases you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“just hurry up and get back out there.” you mutter, pushing the boy lightly towards the door.

yeonjun just laughs before heading back out onto the stage, he was happy for you.

the rest of the award show went smoothly, and you and yeonjun quickly made your way into the audience to go reunite with your groups.

“y/n!” eunchae whispers to you, giving you a quick hug.

“i missed you..” she whines, leaning on your shoulder.

smiling you ruffled the younger’s hair a bit, “missed you too.”

you and the rest of your members stood up to leave, eunchae and yunjin clinging to your side as you made your way out.

the two beside you were deep in conversation while you scrolled on your instagram feed, perking up when you noticed the two stop talking.

eunchae tapped your shoulder lightly and pointed you to where they were looking, newjeans was infront of you.

just your luck.

yunjin went to get their attention wanting to talk to her old friend, “hanni!” she called out, said girl turning around.

“hi yunjin!” hanni waved, stopping to talk to you three.

the rest of newjeans followed in suit of her, and you noticed the look of awe hyein was giving you making you smile.

“hi hyein.” you say softly, giving the girl a small wave to which she smiled at.

“hi!” hyein greets back, excitedly.

yunjin and hanni quickly started a conversation to catch up since their trainee days, you and eunchae starting a conversation with the others. kazuha, chaewon and sakura were behind you three chatting quietly.

though the entire time you were focused on minji, the two of you locking eyes every now and then. you noticed she had a paper in her hand, her eyes seemingly bouncing between that and you.

“minji.” you say quietly, trying to make it only possible for her to hear.

“hm?” she replies, obviously nervous.

“what’s with the paper?” you ask, the question making her look away from you, embarrassed.

minji held the paper out for you to take, “it’s my number, text me sometime yeah? i wanna get to know you.” she says boldly, making you blush.

you put the paper in your pocket, securing it safely giving minji a smile.

“thank you, pretty girl. i’ll make sure to text you as soon as i get in the car.” you thanked her, the petname making her blush.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

the conversation between your members seemed to fizzle out, the interaction unfortunately ending fast. as you said your goodbyes to each other, you took minji’s hand in yours.

you pulled her closer to you, giving her a quick peck on the cheek to which surprised your members.

“see you soon?” you ask to which she nods.

“see you soon.”

the two of you part, minji and her group going up ahead before yours leaving your members to bother you about the interaction.

“y/n what the hell was that?” yunjin asks, in complete shock that you made a move.

you just shrugged, “let’s just go..” you say, in all honesty you didn’t know what that was either. you just hoped word wouldn't get out about that interaction, knowing how nosy dispatch is.

“good luck avoiding dispatch..”

"shut up.."

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (720): Thu 8th Mar 2024

I thought about how I always try to combine two or more ideas whenever I get a tattoo in order to get more original and unique imagery and I have decided apply this logic to a new business enterprise as I set up my own mobile museum. Instead of getting people to come to my museum I will take it to them as I will be driving the bus Rosa Parks would be arrested on and inside rather than spreading out all of the exhibits I will have them collected into one piece. It will be The Elephant Man’s skeleton wearing Jackie Kennedy’s blood stained dress, holding one of the violins the musicians on the Titanic was playing, in the other hand he'll be carrying the headless bat that Ozzy Osbourne bit the head off and on his feet will be the ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz. Tell me you wouldn't pay money to hop on the mobile museum to check it out if it drove into your town. After four very long years I have finally finished my gruelling but also incredibly pleasurable challenge to read every book to win the Edgar Award for Best Novel. I don’t know how I found out about these awards (though I suspect it was just through randomly trawling through Wikipedia) or why I decided to read every winning book but when I sat down to read the first winner “Beat Not The Bones” by Charlotte Jay I couldn’t imagine I wouldn’t finish the challenge until four years later. After nearly half a decade of this on again off again mission, at approximately 16:00 today I finished the final book in the challenge, Notes on an Execution. The final pages of the book depict the last moments of a murderer on death row as he sees the world slip away much like I was watching the final moments of my beautiful four year long task disintegrate before my eyes like a swan in a barrel of acid. I immediately took out my bucket list and struck a line through “Edgar Awards” and breathed a huge sigh of relief before stepping outside to do several interviews with the big news networks and watching all the video messages of congratulations from celebrities such as Lee Ryan from Blue, Justin Lee Collins and The Pope. I’m so glad that this thing is over but at the same time I’m thankful that I’ve been introduced to a lot of amazing writers whose work I never would have gotten to sample if it weren’t for this insane challenge. Starting tomorrow I will begin my new insane challenge of attempting to read every book by the great Philip K Dick.

I watched an episode of The One Show that covered a book award ceremony for children who had written stories made up of 500 words or less. I don't know why but I hate seeing children display talent at an incredibly young age. It's probably because when I was a child I submitted a story for this competition about a nymphomaniac bank manager who constantly takes customers into the bank's giant vault to bang them which I titled "Safe Sex" and not only did it not win but I was forced to undergo counseling and electroshock treatment. One of the winners was this eleven year old kid and he was a right smug little cunt. When the host asked him if he could believe he won he replied in a deadpan fashion “Well yeah because you just said it” and when Alex Jones asked if he would continue writing he said “Well I’m currently writing three stories”. This self-congratulatory bitch is going to end up being the Prime Minister one day isn't he? In twenty years time when I get my well earned OBE for all the great sitcoms I write it's going to be this smarmy gobshite who ruins my day by giving me my medal and commenting "I've never seen your stuff personally but I'm told it's very funny".Tom Hiddleston presented an award but he didn’t do his Robert De Niro impression. I actually want to write a Philip K Dick-style book where Hiddleston runs for president and his only act is to make it punishable by death to watch, share or discuss his De Niro impression ever happened.

[adamgant]

Faves from the week and around the web

Faves from the week and around the web https://ift.tt/5wK6TlD Sharing this week’s faves from the week and around the web.  Hi friends! How are you? I hope you’re having an amazing start to 2024. This was *supposed* to be Friday Faves, and I kept thinking I would finish the post, but we were at Disneyland. Zero work happened while we were there, and it was an absolute blast. Liv requested a Disney trip instead of a birthday party, and I was pumped to oblige. I love throwing parties for the kids, but Disney is a bit easier and more fun 😉 Some pics from the adventures: We did the Genie+ pass – I have mixed feelings about it and wrote about it here – and have been able to ride a ton of rides in between dining at some of our favorite spots. Goofy’s Kitchen was amazing as usual. I’m definitely not looking forward to the return of school and chores, but am super excited to get going on 21 Day of Healthy Habits and start the party with our group! Today is also Liv’s 12th birthday! I can’t even believe it. They say time flies, and they don’t lie. This was yesterday, I swear. It’s time for the weekly Friday Faves party! This is where I share some of my favorite finds from the week and around the web. As always, I love to hear about your faves, too, so please shout out something you’re loving in the comments section below. Friday Faves 1.5 Read, watch, listen: 20 inspiring messages to take into the new year. Two of my favorite recent Instagram pages are this one and this one. Both so relatable and hilarious in very different ways. How to put more gentle in your January. Check out this week’s podcast episode here. Fitness + good eats: If you’ve been wanting to join us for 21 days of Healthy Habits, the fun starts TODAY. The full plan, workouts and meal guides, plus bonuses and recipes, are all waiting in the platform. Join here!! It’s not too late to join, but I’ll be closing enrollment later today. If you want some support and new health ideas, let’s gooooo! Let’s finally get you some wins and momentum. Fashion + beauty: Got this hoodie from lululemon and the fabric is a dream. I want the matching pants now, too. Top products from the year! It’s always fun to go through analytics and see what products you enjoyed the most that I shared here on the blog. Here are the winners from 2023: My favorite bra in all the land. Bras are the worst (and have been trying to go without as much as possible), but these have no underwire and give a nice shape under a t-shirt. This gorgeous one-shoulder dress. Our favorite hoodies! The fabric is super soft and the girls love them, too. (We’re all wearing these in the first pic above!) The BEST self-tan mist for face.  These super cute and comfy joggers. By far, my favorite dress of 2023. I added quite a few of these to the collection; they’re flattering on everyone and they have so many different gorgeous colors and prints. These jean shorts. Not too short, they fit well, and match pretty much everything. This amazing serum. Love this one-piece with jean shorts. This silk pillowcase.  My latest obsession. I want all of them lol. This classic bandeau suit. (love it with a wrap skirt and hat) This half zip with the matching pants is one of my weekly staples. Still my top leggings. The Hatch light! This has been a game changer in my morning routine. Happy Monday, friends! I hope you have a wonderful week and I’ll see ya soon. xo Gina The post Faves from the week and around the web appeared first on The Fitnessista. via The Fitnessista https://ift.tt/sC2Q5lE January 08, 2024 at 06:56AM

[you-are-my-neverland]

hey! are akane and arete both girls?

(i'd love to read all your books! pls let us know when and if you publish them! in the mean time, can we get snippets from both pirates and post-chosen one if at all feasible?)

yes, akane and arete are both girls! also you are so kind!!! i would love to one day be published, but as of right now writing is just my passion/hobby (full time student and part time worker, so it's what i do in my spare time, but an integral part of my life all the time). writeblr will definitely be the first to know when something changes though. or when i actually finish something.

you can indeed get a snippet from the post-chosen one wip (i really need a name for it haha). here's an excerpt from chapter two: bonesetter.

(for context purposes, alice is currently employed as a sentinel in the govt. jamie is her 'handler.' she just lost the magician once again and had to go to the hospital)

“Has anyone told you that you would have been great at politics?” Jamie replied ruefully. “You and I both know I’d be terrible at politics,” Alice told him. “I’m just well versed in how to use power.” She yawned, readjusting herself. Exhaustion was beginning to set into her bones, the lull of unconsciousness a heavy burden to fight off. “You did learn from the best, after all,” Jamie finished, looking down at his hands. Alice smiled faintly.  “Didn’t serve anyone that well in the end, though.” Look at where power and politics had gotten her sister. Look at where Alice herself had ended up, still a pawn in the political system, no matter how hard she fought. The Revolution might have won, but Alice had always known she wasn’t the true winner. She never would have been, no matter the outcome.  “We helped create this world,” Jamie said.  “Don’t forget about the cost,” Alice reminded him bitterly.  Nothing, no Commonwealth, no peace, no future, nothing had ever been worth Helena. Too bad Alice had had no say in the matter.

as i mentioned, i haven't started actually drafting the pirate story quite yet, so no snippet on that end. however, i will share a little more sustenance on the world/plot!

magic wise, the world is sort of infused with magic all around. magic interacts differently with different people, and not everyone gets a 'gift.' there are three broad categories for people who do have some sort of magical ability. miracles, who are the gifted, and usually have small, subtle abilities. they are largely considered 'good.' the second are witches, whose power usually does not differentiate between good and bad (perhaps it depends on the user). they're feared, and not well liked, but at least they're still human. the third level is monsters. usually this refers to actual monsters, such as sea beasts and ghosts and all that, but also to those who were once human, but became corrupted. (the term has been applied liberally, and not always in correct parallelisms with the actual definition).

the seas are ruled/overseen by the all seas assembly (asa), which is a religious organization and political power. it is an independent authority that outlines universal rules individual nations are beholden to (think intergovernmental organizations like the un for similar authorities). they currently have two out of four pieces of the Stone Heart (which is the heart of one of the great gods). they had a third piece, but arete's mom stole it, and it is now lost to the seas. legend has it that once the stone heart is unified as one again, it will be a beacon to nisa's heart, the Star Heart (working on that name idk if i like it). legend also has it that arete's mom found the star heart, so after her fiery death (which arete escaped), piracy surged.

& that's a little of the foundation for the present timeline i'm trying to figure out!!

help me decide my nanowrimo

[parkpavilion]

Scriptor Honoratus Senex

How many writers, living or dead, have had an active, acclaimed publishing career that extends for almost seven decades? The number might be as low as one, but fortunately that one is still with us, still writing and still publishing. John McPhee is the cream of the crop where literary non-fiction is concerned, having won almost every award possible for his work, including the Pulitzer Prize. He’s also been a mentor to multiple generations of younger writers who themselves have become award-winners, thanks to his life-long connection to Princeton University. 

His most recent book, Tabula Rasa, is his 32nd (discounting many other recompilations of his work), and it chronicles many (though hopefully not all) of his writing projects that did not turn into finished, full-length products. As soon as I heard about its imminent release, I knew it would be the subject of intense discussion between me and another major McPhee fan, writer and friend of Madison Books Matthew Fleagle. Our conversation about the book (as much of it as I thought blog readers would tolerate, anyway) is below.

--James

—————————————————

James: The more love you feel, the greater the risk of heartbreak. Which is why I was both eager and hesitant to read Tabula Rasa. Maybe you felt the same way? Our love for John McPhee is well documented and well earned–the man has won the Pulitzer Prize, published more than thirty books, and written millions of words, not one of which was placed on paper without the utmost care. But the man is 92, and understandably isn’t undertaking projects as grand or ambitious as he once did. Still, when I read that in his new work he “looks back at his career from the vantage point of his desk drawer, reflecting wryly upon projects he once planned to do but never got around to,” I worried (heck, I assumed) that this would be a binful of substandard pencil shavings. Keeping the old man busy and helping him clear some long-accumulated clutter is the least we can do after all he’s given us, right? Those were my thoughts after obliging another of our mutual nonagenarian faves, John Barth, with a read of his most recent collection. Rueful reminiscence and mild disappointment was not what I got from Tabula Rasa, though. McPhee hasn’t played all his cards yet, and has some tricks remaining.

Matt: I was certainly eager. If I had thought to be worried going in, I'd have dropped that anxiety pretty toot sweet. As always, McPhee roped me in right away. I happen to be working my way through a box of old letters from the previous two generations of my dad’s family to determine what should be done with them (the letters) and so McPhee’s mechanism of the “letter in response to a daughter" as an opening to this journey through his file cabinet of writing project ideas– “Dear Jenny: I didn’t go there with Tim and Wendy. We drove from France straight to northern Portugal . . .” –quite grabbed my attention. Once lasso’d, I was fully wrangled by the third piece’s conceit of the unfinishable project as a means of extending an old man’s life. As you know, that’s the sort of thing I stew on while doing dishes, weeding or performing really any activity that requires me to respire but not necessarily think much about what I’m doing. So I was immediately engrossed.

I kept being startled at first by the brevity of these works. This book seems a little like a printed blog. The pieces are about that long and like good blog posts, they just get you fully interested and then they end, leaving you wishing for more, or in my case propelling me on to the next one. McPhee binging. Most of them end abruptly but they end elegantly, often with a zinger quote. But there is clearly much more in most of these pieces that could be researched and presented, so it's easy to see why McPhee had been holding onto them. I say most, not all, but we'll get to that. How about you? Did you find these stories satisfying though they were such short outings?

James: Very. That’s the most invigorating aspect of this book–even in the twilight of his career, there’s novelty. He made his bones with a kind of writing that’s been described (in a phrase I love and have quoted before) as “requiring a certain readerly patience.” Meticulous descriptions of people and place, methodical accumulation of information, powerful conclusions built with time and pages  . . . in McPhee’s house there are many mansions, and you don’t hurry through them. But in Tabula Rasa he’s quicker, lighter, and snappier. The entries here aren’t truncated versions of his older essays, they have a form of their own, and he’s as dextrous with it as he has been in his more expansive books.

With that dexterity, we get the unexpected zingers you mentioned. Who knew McPhee could throw off punchlines like Henny Youngman? The bit about environmental activist Edward Abbey is the best example, I think. What a putdown. I guess Abbey gets credit for the remark, but McPhee knows exactly how to structure the anecdote for full effect. I hadn’t thought about Abbey for years, but it made me want to read more about him. Sounds like you felt the same way about most of the subjects, but you mentioned some exceptions? 

Matt: I did, but I only meant that I suspect some of these stories were never intended to be longer. McPhee introduces or extraduces a lot of these pieces with notes about having intended to do a full treatment of the subject and why he never did (profiles of Meredith Willson or of his mother, Mary, for instance, or explorations of Bing cherries or river deltas), but others are little anecdotes standing on their own feet, proffered without a word about any erstwhile plans for them. “Outcroppings of Washington Road'' is one such; it’s just a little story about a number of different things, and the piece can be said to be loosely wrapped around McPhee’s magnum opus, Annals of the Former World, which is a project he most definitely did get around to. “Outcroppings'' is in my view the perfect little McPhegian outing–it's like a canoe trip among tall reeds; there's a beginning, a sudden 90-degree turn, an apparent dead end and restart that makes you wonder where the old man is going, then an unexpected twist, and a final rejoining of the main stream as the ideas come braiding together at the end. McPhee's mastery of structure and timing, as you say, is never more evident than in these snack-sized pieces.

And I don't mind at all the professor just remembering out loud. To pursue the metaphor, I can imagine sitting in a slowly drifting canoe with the author’s voice behind me (he would be the aft paddle, naturally) occasionally breaking a mosquito’d stillness with one of these little stories, each a delightful non sequitur from the one before.

James: The image of this author as an excursion guide is perfect, first because he’s spent so much time being in and writing about America’s still-wild lands, and second because his work always gives the impression that you’re accompanying him on a journey. He’s a wise cicerone of the great outdoors who shares knowledge as well as the experience of obtaining it.

Hmm, the praise is getting a little treacly. Is there some reservation you want to express, lest we sound too sycophantic? 

Matt: McPhee can occasionally pitch low and inside. I haven’t yet fully forgiven him for expecting me to agree that no one knows or cares who Wilford Brimley is while simultaneously tossing off references to people I’d never heard of, undermining his own point that you shouldn’t make references in your work to people or things your readers have never heard of. That was a different book, but “points of reference” can still be an issue for me. I spent the whole of this book’s “Time-Out on the Floor” chapter waiting for him to explain to me what time-out on the floor meant, which he never did. I got an idea by the end, but let’s just say readers who follow college athletics or were reared or schooled in the East will have a slight advantage when sports is the topic or when Princeton names are dropping. A significant number of these pieces revolve around athletes, professors, administrators and other figures from McPhee's long career as an educator and even longer life as a sports fan. Still, McPhee usually makes quick work of getting the reader up to speed, and I found myself invested in every story even when I felt some initial disorientation.

I'd like to mention some highlights that I particularly enjoyed but I'm hogging the page and we may be running out of room, so you first. Besides the Edward Abbey coup you mentioned, what were some of your favorite moments?

James: You’ve cited one already. As a Northwesterner, I felt a swell of pride when I ran across “Bourbon and Bing Cherries.” Plenty of good stuff in there about McPhee’s edible and potable interests, but the fact that the most popular cherry cultivar in America was named after the Chinese foreman of an experimental orchard in Oregon, and was so labeled in the 1870s, just as America was gearing up for the racist Chinese Exclusion Act, is the most compelling part. Reminds me of how Seattle’s white founders were able to stretch their imaginations far enough to respect and name their city after an indigenous leader. I was also fond of the productively rambling longer pieces, including “Sloop to Gibraltar” with its portrait of the ancient merchant mariner Captain Washburn, and “The Dutch Ship Tyger,” which links a 17th-century trading vessel, future senator and former basketball player Bill Bradley, and the start of McPhee’s career with The New Yorker. But enough of that; hit me with your highlights.

Matt: So many, but off the top of the old bean:

"December 19, 1943” –It's difficult to say anything about this piece that isn’t a spoiler, except that McPhee doesn’t take this story in the direction that he could have taken it and might even have been expected to take it, but takes it somewhere else, which is why he’s John McPhee and the rest of us are not. 

“Ray Brock” –This is one of those delightful little bundles of facts that make you think you know something, but McPhee never explicitly makes the call. This story is about both Ray Brock and Ernest Hemingway, but when it’s about which is the question and he doesn’t directly answer it, only gives us a fact that pushes us toward a certain conclusion. 

"Joseph Henry House" –This is a great collection of little scenes set in the eponymous house, just the thing I like. Within a few sentences McPhee moves from architectural history to an intimate little memory and then to the large and sweeping thought of Princeton being visited and honored by colleges hundreds and hundreds of years older than itself. In this piece and several others, McPhee doesn’t seem to be trying to keep the ideas linked and tightly controlled; they seem to be like spirals, like flowers opening or like fireworks exploding.

"Walking the Province Line" –Out of nowhere, this! It’s a longer piece, and next to these little tarns it feels like one of McPhee’s oceans. One wonders as one is reading it why it’s in this book of unborn pieces, because it feels dense and researched. I was all over maps following this one, the way I follow Robert MacFarlane when he goes a-walkin’.

I'd say the same about "La Torre Pendente," which feels a little more like a “normal” McPhee piece. Of course it’s much shorter, but the treatment seems to be a longer look. More research was done, most of it long ago. The details all seem to be there. This one, like so many in Tabula Rasa, makes me imagine McPhee as a Texan defending the Alamo, opening up one musty manila folder after another, loading everything into the chamber each time, all the gunpowder, all the details, whether it is much or little, and pulling the trigger. For an old McPhee fan, there are very few misfires here.

James: A martial metaphor fitting for a writer who has long pursued his craft with military discipline, here commanding squads and platoons instead of his usual brigades and divisions. Although that sounds darker than I intended. Reading this collection is fun, as if McPhee is letting us play with a nice set of vintage toy soldiers.

We’ve pretty well established how rewarding Tabula Rasa is for his established fans (McPhegians, you called us earlier, which I much prefer to an appellation I’ve seen elsewhere, McPhinos), but as a bookseller, I have to consider how it comes across to someone for whom it really is a blank slate. I’m confident that utter neophytes (McPhledglings?) will be entranced by it. Each bite-sized chapter is tremendously satisfying, yet even devouring them all at once leaves one hungry for dessert. I’m not sure how he pulls off this rock-skipping magic, making weighty substance move with light and airy charm, but it must have something to do with the way time has distilled his vast experience into a potent, efficient brevity. A good lesson for us–as enjoyable as this conversation is, we should probably suspend it to give people a chance to read Tabula Rasa instead of our yammering.

Matt: Yup. It’s all in his wrist.

[ryus3i]

Scaramouche never loses a bet no matter what, but could he lose just this once?

Scaramouche x gn reader

Fluff, Modern au

Word Count: 1.5k

☾ ~ This is my first piece of work like this so feedback would be very much appreciated. Special thanks to Kyra <3 ~☽

Just like every other night you and Scaramouche laid out on the couch watching cheesy romantic movies on Netflix. Your head close to his chest and his arms around you lovingly. His soft fingers run through your hair as you comment on the poor acting skills of the actors. In between comments he would plant soft kisses on your cheeks, lips, and forehead. Though affection from Scara wasn’t as rare as you thought it would be, he wasn’t as nearly as affectionate as he was this past week. He was constantly touching you and hanging around you, when you would wash dishes he would wrap his arms around you and lovingly kiss your cheeks. Just before you leave the house for the day he gives you a long hug and several kisses rather than the sort peck he usually gives you. You don’t know what had caused the sudden change but you weren’t going to deny that you like affectionate scara more.

Planting another few kisses on your forehead he pulled you in even closer, leaving no room in between the two of you. Chuckling to yourself you throw out the question that had been constantly on your mind.

“Who knew the big bad Scaramouche could be so affectionate?” Within seconds his face reddened. Embarrassed by the question he turns away, hiding his bright red.

“What are you talking about?” He puffs out turning around to face you again.

“Oh come on, don’t play dumb Mouche, you know what I’m talking about. There is no way that you don’t know how affectionate you have been. I’m not complaining but why the sudden change?”

“It’s nothing, ok”, he says, bringing you close yet again.

“ Whatever you say Mouche, but I bet you couldn’t last one week without receiving or giving affection”, you say trying to hold back your laughter at the sight of his mouth agape.

“ Oh I’m sure, I could last, but the real question is can you?”, he retorts, collecting himself. Smirk present on his smug face. You would make sure he would lose. No way would you let the ever so prideful Scaramouche win this bet.

“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”, you say mocking his smirk. “Winner chooses the loser’s punishment”.

“Deal,” he says, leaving you with one last kiss before heading towards the bedroom. Good Luck Mouche.

Sunday

Today was cleaning day which meant you and Mouche would spend the day doing chores together. Both of you had already made a list of the chores that had to be done, you were in charge of vacuuming the house, doing the laundry, and organizing the kitchen. Scara was in charge of cleaning the bathroom, bedroom, and living room.

You tried your best to reach the top shelf where the cookies were going to be put, but you couldn’t quite make it. Deciding to just climb on top of the counter and put the cookies on the shelf that way. Reaching for the last packet on the counter you could feel yourself starting to lose your balance, choosing to keep going you quickly grabbed the packet and shoved it in the cabinet. Just as you were about to climb down you feel yourself falling, closing your eyes, you wait to hit the floor, but instead, you fall into scaramouches arms. Opening your eyes you look right at him, his eyes filled with a look of concern.

“Which idiot told you to climb on the fucking counter?” He says still holding you. Frown present, his eyes looking directly into yours.

“Myself,” you say giggling. “Thanks for saving me Mouche,” you say teasingly.

“Whatever,” he says, still holding you. He slowly lifts one hand from underneath you and moves a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know Mouche, you can put me down now? Unless you wanna hold me close even longer”.

“No, I dont,” he says as he carefully puts you down, face bright red. “Just finish your work already”, he says quickly leaving the kitchen

You chuckle to yourself watching him leave. He’s cracking already.

Monday

Going out late at night with Scara was nothing new, you two often went on late night grocery store runs. It was much more fun when the aisles were empty and you could run around and play with shopping carts like little kids. Whenever you went on these little shopping runs, you and Scara were truly kids again.

Stepping out of the car you close the door and wait for Scara, you were so used to him holding your hand and so you waited but he locked the car and looked towards you.

“ You weren’t waiting for something, were you?”, he says smirking, he knew what he was doing. What a little shit.

Rolling your eyes and running up next to him you two walk into the store and grab a shopping cart. The first aisle you needed to go to was the fruits and vegetables. You needed apples, grapes, carrots, and Scara’s favorite cucumbers. Parking your cart next to the fruits you grab the pretty red apples that glisten under the lights. Scara places the cucumbers and carrots as you look for the best grapes. Finding the best-looking ones you put them in the cart.

“Wait, you have to try them first,” scara says as he puts one in his mouth. He smiles as he picks another and goes to feed you. Just before he does, he realizes what he is doing and places it in your hand then proceeds to walk away.

“I thought you’d be good at this, Mouche,” “ I guess I was wrong, huh”. you say eating the grape. You picked good grapes as they were sweet and hard, just to your liking.

“Shut up,” he says, pushing the cart towards the bakery section. It’s just a matter of time.

Tuesday

Biology was boring as is but biology online was beyond boring. Your professor’s monotone voice wasn’t helping, his words went in one ear and out the other. You had been sitting at your coffee table for the past hour and a half trying to focus, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t. On top of it all, it was only 8 o clock, Mouche hadn’t even woken up yet. Just the thought of joining him in bed and laying in his arms made you want to run to the bedroom, but you still had half an hour of class left. Walking to the bedroom, laptop in your arms you climb into bed trying not to wake Mouche up. He was calmly asleep, face up and arms to the side. You had to hold yourself back from putting your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around him. You had to win this bet, there was no way you would give in already.

Shifting his body Scara was now facing you, deep indigo bangs falling over his eyes. Gently pushing them behind his ears, you then cup his face, pushing his check closer to his eyes. You let out a small giggle, you let go as he starts to stir in his sleep. Using your best acting skills you act like you are actively paying attention to your class as Mouche opens his eyes.

“Morning y/n,” he says tiredly looking at you, a smile present on his face. Did he feel you?

“Good Morning,” you say, shutting off your laptop. Sliding down to his level on the bed you face him, copying his smile. The urges to lay in his arms were coming back. Pull yourself together y/n you can win this.

Wednesday

After another long day of classes, you had just laid down in bed. The cool sheets welcome your tired body, your eyes glued shut. Today was a long day, today was filled with long study sessions and long classes. More than ever today you had missed Mouche the most, he had been out all day, hanging out with Kazuha. You had exchanged a few texts with him but you missed his presence. Ever since you two had started sleeping on the same bed you couldn’t sleep without him. He has this protective energy that lulls you to sleep feeling safe.

You could hear his footsteps approaching the bedroom door, he was finally home. Hearing the doorknob twist open you once again used your amazing acting skills to now pretend to be asleep. You could hear his sigh as he pulled back the blanket and laid next to you. He was way too close, he had to know that. Wrapping his arms around you , he nuzzles his head into your shoulder. What is he doing?

“Stupid, fucking bet”, he grumbles. “ I hate not being able to hold you and kiss you,” he says, leaving a few kisses on your neck. “ I love you, y/n”. He says pulling you in even closer.

“ I love you too Mouche”, you say, turning to face him. Softly capturing his lips, you place your arms around his neck. Letting his lips go, you look into soft purple eyes, his looking into yours.

“ I win,” you say before pulling him into another kiss.

[celestial-kit]

Everything Has Changed

I’m not sure what this is, I was just thinking about what Bakugo might be like when he first feels an attraction for someone... and then this happened. 

Pairing: Bakugo x reader 

Warnings: Fluff, brief mention of penetration, slight NSFW themes, Minors DNI

______________________________________________________________

I headcanon that Bakugo doesn’t start exploring his romantic and sexual attraction to others until after he’s graduated high school. He’s always been observant, so he could recognize when someone was attractive, but he was never actually attracted to anyone because he was so focused on everything else. Winning sports festivals, doing work studies, training to stay on top of his rivals and teammates. It just never occurred to him that he could be a hero and be in love. 

He starts to recognize that he is a romantic and sexual being when he meets you. It wasn’t love at first sight, but rather a series of events that sparked a heat inside him that he had never felt before. 

You meet because you both start working as sidekicks at the same agency right out of high school. He didn’t pay much attention to you at first because you were quiet, focused on doing your work and getting experience in the field. Your boss often paired the two of you together for patrols, your quiet nature making it so that you don’t rile Bakugo up like some of the other sidekicks. It was on your 5th patrol together that Bakugo first recognized your skill as a hero. 

It was a rather quiet day, not much happening as the two of you strolled the streets. You didn’t talk much outside of the occasional comment about where you should patrol next. As you were about to turn a corner onto a new street, a man dressed in black pushed past the two of you, running at full speed. Behind you, you both hear a woman cry, “My purse!” Bakugo briefly looks back over his shoulder to try to determine where the cry came from, while you automatically pushed forward to chase the bandit, sprinting after the man that was admittedly twice your size. When you caught up, you took your bo staff and swept his feet, making him fall forward on his face. You quickly clambered onto the man’s back, using your body weight to pin him, kicking the purse out of his reach, and zip tying his wrists together. The whole interaction took maybe 15 seconds, but it took Bakugo by surprise. He didn’t expect you to have the courage to jump into action so quickly, and he hadn’t realized that you were so strong. He knew then that he had been underestimating you, and it made him take you more seriously, and pay more attention to you.

The first time he realized he was attracted to you was the first time you sparred together. After that day on patrol, you started talking more, you learned about each other's training habits and quirks. He learned that you focused a lot of your training in martial arts. Since you were smaller, you knew you needed to know how to counter opponents that were bigger than you, and martial arts gave you the skills you needed to do that. One evening after work, you asked Bakugo if he wanted to train with you, and he said yes, expecting to pin you quickly and go home. You both agreed not to use your quirks and the winner would be the person that could pin the other for 5 seconds. 

Bakugo was much larger than you, his biceps the size of your head, bulging when he reached out to try to pin you. You skillfully dodged each of his advances, using his momentum to land your own attacks and keep him off balance. Frustrated, Bakugo finally let loose a growl and lunged at you, attempting to use the sheer size of his body to force you down. You placed a hand on his shoulder when he neared you, kicking your legs over the both of your heads into a semi-cartwheel and forcefully brought one knee down into the middle of his back, the pressure making Bakugo’s legs go numb and his body to topple to the ground. He found himself in a similar position as the bandit that you had taken down on patrol, with you sitting on his back, his arms pinned behind him and his cheek against the ground. He looked up at you from the corner of his eye, a frustrated frown painted on his face. You can’t help but to let out a quiet giggle and a simple “I win” as you give him a small smile. 

Your hair had mostly fallen out of the ponytail you had put it in before your match, pieces of it sticking to your forehead with sweat. Your eyes glowed with pride as you sat on top of him, and Bakugo could feel a faint blush creep onto his cheeks and blood rush south as he imagined you in this position above him, sinking onto his full cock with that same look in your eyes. When he got the feeling back in his legs, he pushed up on his arms, bucking you off his back and stalking towards the locker room, keeping his back to you to hide his semi-hard length. 

 After that moment, Bakugo couldn’t stay away from you. He never admitted his feelings to you, of course, but that didn’t stop him spending time with you, taking in the way you always greeted him with a gentle smile, how you never flinched when he yelled at the other sidekicks, your lightweight touch on his back as you tried to get around him in the copy room. You started getting dinner together, too. It wasn’t a date, despite what Kirishima said, Bakugo just wanted to eat dinner with a friend who he was incredibly attracted to.

You took turns recommending places to eat, trying new things, and rating them at the end of dinner. This week it was your turn and you had been craving Pho, so you recommended a restaurant near the agency that served it. You laughed at Bakugo as he piled his Pho with jalapenos and sriracha, trying to make it spicier. You enjoyed every bit of your meal, even bringing the bowl to your lips to drink the remaining broth of your soup. After you were both finished, Bakugo paid the bill and you started walking home.

“I rate it a 10,” you say, satisfied, rubbing your full belly. “What do you rate it?” You look at Bakugo expectantly.

“Tch,” he scoffs, keeping his pace slow as he walks you to your apartment. He wants to take his time, he doesn’t want to say goodbye yet. “It wasn’t that good. 5,” he shrugs.

“What? You’re too picky, that was a good meal,” You say with a pout.

“I’m not picky, I just have high standards,” Bakugo says as he feels a water droplet land on his cheek. He pulls a hand from where he had it shoved in his pocket, reaching out to feel more droplets hit his palms. He looks up to see gray storm clouds over your heads, so he reaches out to grab your hand and starts pulling you quickly to your apartment building. Just before you’re about to make it to the safety of an awning, the rain starts to pour and you both get soaked. 

After pushing inside your building, you ask Bakugo if he wants to dry off in your apartment. He nods, letting go of your hand and following you up the stairs. Inside your apartment, he finds himself lingering in your living room while you change into dry clothes and search for a towel for him. When you return, you’re dressed in sweats and a white t-shirt that does nothing to hide your hardened nipples from Bakugo’s gaze. You bring him a fluffy towel, pulling him down to your level and plopping it on his head, drying his hair yourself. 

He grunts at the action, unsure how to process the affection. When he looks at you from under the towel, he can see a smile on your face, but your eyes are dark and it’s like there is something else plaguing your mind. He watches as your eyes wander down his torso, taking in the way his dark, wet shirt clings to his muscles, and then finally lands on the space between his legs where he can feel himself hardening. You release a small gasp, but don’t pull away, instead simply bringing your eyes up to meet his for a few seconds before you lean in and place a short kiss on his lips.

Bakugo’s eyes widen when you press your lips to his, confused at first, and then closing them after he finally processes it all. You like him. You want him. And he wants you. When you pull away from him, he stands to his full height, dragging the towel off his head till it hits the floor, and then he’s grabbing you by the waist to pull you into a searing kiss. You gasp again and Bakugo takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, doing his best to make it clear how he feels, that he wants you, he needs you, and he doesn’t want to waste another moment without you. 

When you part from the kiss, Bakugo looks into your eyes, trying to gauge your reaction, and he finds you smiling with glossy eyes and bruised lips. He gives you a small smirk and you giggle at him, aware that he’s not the type to lay his heart on his sleeve, confess his love and tell you how he feels. But you know how he feels, he tells you in the way his grip tightens around your waist, in how he pulls you into his chest and tucks his head into your neck, in the way he breathes in your scent and hums against your skin. Bakugo has feelings for you, and now that he has you, he won’t let you go.

[facewithoutheart]

Thanks for the tag @martsonmars 🥰 I swear I’ll never break another dry piece of spaghetti on purpose if only you promise to make Baz nice to Simon always and forever. Ah! Just saw @forabeatofadrum tag me I’ll read your snippet in a sec 😁

Aaaaanyway my COBB is live, I’ve mostly finished chapters 4-12 barring a few changes I still need to make, and I’m working on chapter 13. In case y’all wanted an update? I dunno.

Here’s a Simon POV from chapter 11. Not spoilery but throwing it under a break anyway:

“So what brings you to Austin?”

Nico peers over black Ray-Bans. “Two guesses.”

“Fiona?”

“I really didn’t think you’d need two,” he sighs, disappointment oozing from his pores.

“Me?”

He twirls one finger half-arsed in the air. “Winner, winner.” Then, he brings his celebratory index to my forehead and joins it with his thumb to flick me. (It hurts more than I let on.) “You booked a gig without asking.”

“Punish me for breathing, next.”

“I might.” He sticks out his tongue. “Okay, so maybe your first guess was right. ’M kind of a shite manager, aren’t I?”

I resist the urge to do my celebratory Simon-was-right dance. “I don’t need much.”

“Well.” He pushes up his sunglasses so they properly cover his eyes. “Fiona asked me to stop by. Said you and the formerly-goat-boys got an interesting proposal.” He waggles his eyebrows over the tops of his Ray-Bans while I groan.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you.”

He does a little jig.

“You’re going to make me stew in the suspense for my whole show.”

It’s turning a bit too close to Riverdance for my comfort.

“You’re a real bastard, you know.”

Now that I’m into the meat of the fic I’ll just be posting Nico-ridiculousness until I’m done hahahaha. Or, like, random words to avoid spoilers. Or, WHO KNOWS, maybe I’ll get absorbed into another WIP soon.

Hi hello tagging you if you wanna share but no pressure: @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @urban-sith @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @whatevertheweather @shemakesmeforget @stardustasincocaine @captain-aralias @aristocratic-otter @moodandmist @johnwgrey @takitalks @jbrrring @excalisbury @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @confused-bi-queer @palimpsessed @tea-brigade @cutestkilla @creepyspice @ivelovedhimthroughworse @bookish-bogwitch @mrskrementz @bazzybelle @gekkoinapeartree @dragoneggo @letraspal @im-gettingby @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @rainnorwind @annabellelux @nightimedreamersworld @messofthejess @ionlydrinkhotwater

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking  as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

��Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

[tooruluv]

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee​ <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour. 

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat. 

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal. 

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name. 

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything. 

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy. 

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked. 

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories. 

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead. 

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes. 

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything. 

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same. 

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was. 

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that). 

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork. 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day. 

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing. 

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect. 

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea. 

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy. 

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class. 

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else. 

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting. 

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with. 

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity. 

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath. 

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy. 

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

 I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools. 

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger. 

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt. 

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight. 

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself. 

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder. 

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in. 

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.” 

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

[quixotic-writer]

Truth or Truth?

Request: Anon

Summary: Q and Sal are in a double punishment. Q is hooked up to a lie detector and is forced to answer questions about his relationship with his girlfriend who just so happens to be Sal’s sister. Whether he likes it or not, the truth will be revealed.

Warning: Smut ahead!

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Well, seems both Sal and Q have lost the episode.” Murr announces to the cameras with absolute joy that for once he wasn’t the one being miserably punished. Sal and Q nod their heads in defeat and chuckle out of fear of what awaits them on the stage beyond the curtain of the theatre they were stationed at for the day.

“Which means a double punishment is out there waiting for you guys.” Joe says with an equal level of glee as Murr.

“Can we just get to it now, I'm sweating buckets and I just wanna get this over with.” Sal says as he wipes his hands on the sides of his pants to rid his palms of the sweat that was building up.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get you guys out on that stage!” The two men are laughing as the other two did as they were instructed. There on the stage were two chairs. One of those chairs was next to a table filled with wires and equipment, the other had rope surrounding it. Sal and Q both look at each other with eyebrows raised in question of the curious set up. “Sal you will be taking the chair on the left, Q you get the chair on the right next to that machine we’ll get you hooked up to.” The minute he heard the phrase ‘get you hooked up,’ Q knew exactly what the boys had in store.

He complied without saying anything, it was a punishment after all and it’s not like he could evacuate or run away anywhere. He watched as Sal was sat in his chair and tied up good and well to it.

“Guys I thought this was a double punishment. Why am I just being tied to a chair and Q getting hooked up to a lie detector test? What are you gonna do? Ask him how many times he’s fantasized about fictional women while jacking off?” Sal laughs. Little did he know what the guys had in store for this special use of the lie detector test.

“So our buddy Q here has been dating Sal’s sister – (Y/N) – for quite a while now.” Joe said with a toothy grin on his face. They watched as Sal’s face dropped immediately to shock and disgust.

“So we’ve hooked Q up to a lie detector test and we’ll be asking him a few questions about their relationship.” Both Murr and Joe were laughing. “But wait! It gets better!”

“There’s only one audience member besides us here.” When the lights brightened slightly, rows of chairs could be made out now in their line of vision, and so could the one solitary audience member sitting front and center: (Y/N).

“That’s Sal’s sister!” Murr says with jubilation. You could watch the color completely drain from Sal and Q’s face.

“That’s right Sal, you have to look at your sister and your best friend as we ask all these questions and you have to hear the honest truth about it all no matter how dirty.” Sal was freaking out wanting to break free of the constraints that bound him to the chair. He was begging and pleading for anything else as the two winners of the episode were laughing at his fruitless pleas. Q had his face in his hands and his face was regaining its color in only a single shade. He was red as a fire engine knowing exactly where this was about to go. He lifted his head slightly to be met with the eyes of his lover. She sheepishly waved with a smile and he did the same.

“There’s no escaping or compromising a punishment Sal, you lost and this is what you get!” Sal had stopped thrashing and now had his eyes set on the ceiling staring off into nothing. “Let’s start with the first question!”

“Let’s start easy: Have you ever kissed her,” Q huffed as his eyebrows furrowed together. What a silly question, “With tongue?” And there was the searing bit and his expression was wiped clean off of his face.

~

It was early on in their dating days, they decided on a movie night at Q’s place. It was warm and cozy, intimate and serene. She had her head resting on his shoulder and his arm was wrapped around her, holding her in close so that he could be closer to each and every piece of her. Because they were together for only a short time at that moment, Q feared making moves as to not upset her and cause a rift between him and Sal. It was already hard enough getting Sal warmed up to them, it would make things worse if he accidentally made a move she wasn’t comfortable with and Sal would have even more reason to disapprove of what they had going on. So while he seemed relaxed, he was actually freaking out on the inside.

That’s when their eyes locked on each other, her hand was placed gently on his cheek as she smiled and started inching in closer. Her hand was moving in closer and he went with it, seeing as all the signals were there and he was given the green light. Their lips met and he could taste the popcorn on her lips, he went in for another, and another. She felt addicting, he loved it and wanted more. That’s when her tongue traced along his lips, he hesitated.

“Don’t be so stiff B. I know you want more.” She whispered against his lips. She was right, that’s when things started getting heated. He brought her onto his lap, she was then straddling him and their lips met with each other once again, parted and allowed their tongues to intertwine. He could taste her so much better and he knew he was in deep.

The rest of that evening was truly memorable.

~

“Y-yes.” He answered honestly.

“He’s telling the truth.” The polygraph reader spoke as he watched the readings carefully. Sal’s face contorted in disgust as laughter echoed through the theatre.

“Next question: Have you done it on Sal’s bed or in his house?” Q squeezes his eyes shut.

“Brian I swear, you better think long and hard about how you answer this. You have house sat for me many times. If you say yes.”

~

Sal was away on a comedy tour and to go visit his mom. Q was handed the responsibility to watch over his house and make sure that everything was kept clean. Sal stated that he didn’t mind if he stayed the night at his place if he ever drank or if he just felt like it, so long as everything was kept in proper order when he came back. That much Q could do. He never said anything about his girlfriend being over as well.

It started as it always did: chilling out in the living room. They were playing Mario Kart together and the competition was getting heated. Nothing made Q happier than having a girlfriend he could play video games with, especially competitively. Both of them already started playing a little dirty, bumping each other playfully, blocking their view of the screen during important jumps, and so on. They were having the time of their life until she took things a step further.

As they were on their second lap, she sat on Q’s lap and started circling her hips. Q had a hard time focusing on the screen now that something else began to catch his interest. She kept going and she could feel him starting to grow hard under her. He bit his lip to not moan and show weakness and focused as much of his attention on the screen as best as he could.

“(Y/N). T-that’s cheating. You play… Dirty.” She had her eyes on the screen and now added noises as she gyrated her hips.

In the end, Q crossed the finish line first and ended up winning.

“Well, B. Looks like you won.” She said with a devilish smirk on her face, “I guess you’ve earned yourself a prize.” She slithers down to her knees and settles between Q’s legs as he sits on the couch. She pulls down his pants along with his boxers as his member throbs in front of her eyes. Q’s lips are already parted as his breath hitches at the sight before him. She licks her lips and immediately takes him as far into her mouth as she could. He lets out a low groan as his eyes close to take in the sensation.

“Fucking hell baby.” He says as his hand goes to the back of her head as his hips start to work and fuck her mouth. He was already aching for release as she was grinding against him, so his inevitable end was already building up like a skyscraper. “(Y/N). Sweetheart. God. You’re gonna make me cum.” He was at the edge of absolute euphoria, he had control of her as he tangled his hand in her hair and guided her faster up and down his cock until he shoved her down and released in her mouth. “Swallow.” He commanded, and she did exactly that. All evidence of his climax gone. He pulls her up for a kiss before lifting her and allowing his feet to carry them to where he would now be staying for the night: Sal’s room.

~

“Do I really have to answer this one?” Q asked as he began sweating profusely as he remembered each sensation pertaining to his answer.

“Hurry up and answer! You’ve never had problems talking about your sex life before tough guy.” Joe criticizes.

“No.” A blatant lie and they all probably knew. This answer was proven false after the polygraph interpreter stated so. Sal was glaring at Q and Q dared not make eye contact at that moment.

“You guys have ravaged my house for a punishment before, but SEX in MY HOUSE?!?! Not only that but WITH MY SISTER?!” Q wanted nothing more than just to disappear.

“Next question. Oh this one's good!” Q closed his eyes again, bracing himself for the next question, “Had she ever called you daddy?” His cheeks felt like they were on fire now. “Not like how you refer to yourself when talking about your cats either. You know exactly how we mean it.”

~

The room was filled with the sounds of the bed frame squeaking and moans eliciting from open mouths along with steamy breath that stuck to their skin. Q was thrusting his hips roughly into her as she raked her nails down his back, leaving her own mark on him.

“You like that baby? Like when I fuck you hard?”

“Yes! Yes!” Her words felt like they were being forced out of her with each snap of his hips as he hit just the right spots to drive her crazy.

“Yes, what?” He asked her as he slowed to an agonizing pace. She wrapped her legs around him to try and speed things up, bringing him in closer despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything until that one word was uttered. “C’mon (Y/N). Let me hear it. Yes, what?” His hot breath fell in her ear and sent chills through her and she could feel her clit throb as she bit her lip and moaned at the authoritative tone.

“Yes daddy.” His hips picked right back up as the familiar sound of skin on skin began to echo once again in the room. “Fuck I love it when you fuck me like this. Harder. Please, daddy.” Each time she said it, it brought him closer and closer to climax.

“God I love when you call me that sweetheart.” He licked his thumb and began rubbing circles around her clit as he continued working his hips against hers. Whining as she felt her climax begin to wash over her, Q wasn’t that far behind as he began to grunt and moan with each thrust as he felt her tremble beneath him. “Gonna cum baby, you’re so perfect.”

~

Q wondered if the air conditioning in the place was even on. If it was, they needed to crank it if not his shirt was sure to be drenched in sweat by the time this punishment was over.

“Uuuh.”

“Not an answer buddy.” Q really didn’t want to answer this. He could feel Sal’s gaze boring holes into him. He knew how his best friend felt about his relationship which is why he never said a thing about their sex life like he had with previous relationships. He respected Sal that way and always made sure to treat his sister well. But the pickle he was in now was making this dynamic extremely difficult.

“I uuh.” He was choking on words. There was no sense in lying, but maybe, just maybe if he believed hard enough he could trick the lie detector into believing he was telling the truth. He took a breath, said over and over in his head that he was telling the truth, steadied himself, and “no.” He tried saying it with honest conviction.

“A lie.” Yup. He definitely wanted to crawl in a hole now. All three of the other men were hollering at the answer. Q looked at (Y/N) and she was just as red as he was but she was laughing. He wasn’t sure how she could be laughing at this moment, but for some reason it put him slightly at ease knowing that this wasn’t torture for her like it was for him.

“Okay last question Q.” Sal had been mostly silent for the last few minutes and Q just knew that Sal wanted him dead or something else. He was lucky there were restraints holding him back because god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t. Q was mentally bracing himself for something absolutely revolting that he would have to answer for, something that would really make Sal lose his mind. Dildos, sneaking off on tour together to have sex, road head, he was ready to answer for it and face the consequences. “Do you love her?”

~

It was early in the morning and sun peered through the windows of his house. As he opened his eyes, there she was. Her eyes closed and her breathing steady, all the cats were curled up around her and all were surprisingly still asleep as well. She was dreaming and he knew it. Seeing her so peacefully asleep made him happy. It wasn’t only that. It was knowing she was happily asleep in his bed, next to him that made his heart flutter and burst with joy. Waking up and seeing her was unlike anything he’s ever felt.

He crawled out of bed carefully. In the kitchen he began to cook up some breakfast for them and also to feed the needy little kittens. As he was at the stove, he heard her shuffle in. He looked over his shoulder and saw her, eyes hooded and still half asleep, a little smile tugging at her lips, hair covering most of her face. She was just the most beautiful person ever and he couldn’t think otherwise.

“Morning sunshine.” He says with a smile on his face, voice still groggy from waking up.

“Mornin’ B.” She made her way over and hugged him from behind, leaning on him as she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply smelling his morning musk and the food that was cooking. “Smells so good.” She mumbled. His heart was just exploding and he couldn’t stop smiling.

As they ate breakfast, she spoke most of the time and that was just how he liked it. He never tired of her voice, never tired of hearing her talk, never tired of being around her. She noticed the dopey look on his face as she spoke and she stopped and gave him a bit of a side glance and a smile.

“What’s with you this morning Bri? You’ve been acting all mushy. Not that I'm complaining or this is out of the ordinary.”

“I just like hearing you talk.” He said truthfully. “And it’s just–”

~

“–I love her.” He spoke with a smile on his face. “I really do. No doubt about that. There’s no one else I've been more in love with than her. Every part of her. Good and bad. I love her.” He looked her in her eyes, recalling each countless moment they’ve had with each other. Every time he was around her, he felt like a high schooler again. So bashful, so in love, hopelessly so. There was no one else for him.

“It’s all true.” The polygraph reader spoke with a smile. Sal looked at Q, then looked at his sister and saw them just entranced with each other. Hearing everything Q had to say was true made his anger quickly slide away. He wanted his friend to be happy, he couldn’t keep them apart. Despite thinking this was an absolutely terrible idea at the start, perhaps this changed things.

“That’s it Q. Interrogations over.” Both men were released from their punishment prisons and were left to face each other.

“So. You really love her, huh?” Q smirked as he felt the butterflies thinking about her again.

“More than you could imagine.” He said with confidence. He felt her arms wrap around him and he turned around to see her eyes sparkling like constellations at midnight. He wrapped his arms around her tight and gave her a kiss.

“Listen, I know i’ve been hard on you Q. Just protective of my sister y’know?”

“I get it, Sal. But I can promise you wholeheartedly that I’d never do anything to hurt her ever.”

“Might wanna hook him up to the lie detector again.” Joe said as he walked by. Q rolled his eyes.

“I know. I just want you to promise one other thing.”

“Anything.” Q leaned in attentively.

“I never wanna hear anything about your sex life ever again.” (Y/N) snickered as Q felt his face heating up in shame again.

“Deal.”