#No one's gonna give you a gold star for calling out

[merakidoll]

two men who just wanted to please you, ( and each other). two men who was at your beck and call, two men who loved to you make you cum.

onyankopon and connie.

“spread them a little bit more ma’ma” you were dizzy, so incredibly dizzy. your cunt was sensitive, connie avid sucking on your clit then releasing it was a strong pop; all to turn around and fuck his tounge into your slimy wet hole. his eyes were glassy staring up at you, you couldn’t hunch your cunt into his face and that made him sad, but don’t worry; ony saved the day! he could see his two lovers were too in their heads to do anything, so grabbing connie’s neck he moved his face in your pussy.

he saw how his tounge licked and sucked at any crevice, nose bumping against your red clit while your jucies got all over his face. the vibration from his moans and incoherent banter sent shock waves thorougout your body. “n-no’more!” you whined, pussy clenching and unclenching, more essence falling out of you for connie to slurp up like a brainless man. he couldn’t hear what you were saying, just loving the feeling of gulping down your flavors, his tounge heavily satisfied. as for ony, he made you a deal. “one more baby, then i’ll move him. just give him one more,” you were greatful how his voice set that one last orgasm off. or maybe it was the good grills, or how connie rocked his cock in the silk bedsheet your cum practically making him feral.

“o-ohgodddd” your body shaking like a leaf in autumn, nails digging into the soft fabric ripping though it, while you saw stars. connie continued to eat at you; lick and suck, even a small grazing of his teeth until he was pulled back, a harsh whine leaving his lips while you let out shaky breaths closing your legs to stop the ache. your two boyfriends now stood in front of you, connie pressed against onyankopon’s back while he slowly pulled down his sweats to let his cock shoot out, standing tall and red, tip leaking so much cum. ony kissed connie’s neck licking over the hickies that you had left previously.

his hands slowly wrapped around the other man, gold rings causing him shiver, due to the coolness they brought to his hot body- then how tight his hand was around his cock. “she’s so pretty, yea?” ony whispered his words, slowly working his hand on the man’s cock, he could feel connie start to rock into him, staring at you like you were a meal. eyes low while his lip was between his teeth. “i said yea” ony repeated himself, more stern.

“y-yes fuck! g-gonna give her m’baby” connie’s eyes shut momentarily, pre cum falling down making a mess on his loves hand, his abs flexing at how close he was. he could hear ony say more things but he was too gone to understand. his ears were ringing, your taste on his tounge making him repeatedly swallow to just taste it one more time. the vision of how pretty you looked while he ate you flashing in his hazed state. then - visions of ony making you take his full length while you cried how it was too much. before he knew it, connie’s head fell forward, “ah’s” passing his lips while his cum shot out all over you. “fuck” onyankopon laughed to himself at the mess his boyfriend had just made but also how your scooped some up and ate it moaning around your finger.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

kiss kiss fall in love | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

your hormones have peeked at your five month mark. your belly started to properly show now and your tastebuds were only slightly concerning. at least the morning sickness was gone, top two worst things about pregnancy, second having to give birth.

you lounged on the couch as you watched your daughter and husband playing on the floor, bits of their hair covered their faces in a curtain. spencer was already teaching her the ways of chess, she asked him many questions.

“how come the queen isn’t wearing a gold crown? she’s special.” holding a black chess piece in her small palm. you chuckled at the childish question.

“well she is wearing a crown, but if you want we can paint it gold. she is the most important piece of the game.” spencer agreed with annabeth, ruffling her locks. he stood from the ground, made a quick stop to kiss your cheek and went into the hallway to comeback with the craft supplies box. he pulled out the paint pens, “why don’t you decorate all of them how you want? it’ll be our special set.”

annabeth went quick to work on coloring over the pieces, some covered in swirled and dots while others had hearts or stars. she even drew a couple of happy expressions, then one sad one, “because he’s just a pawn.” you and spencer chuckled at her reasoning.

you rubbed your palm along your swollen stomach, old stretch marks reappearing at the bottom. your cotton shorts and simple tank feeling suffocating even with minimal fabric. “oh!” a tiny yelp from your lips, eyes widening and mouth pursing.

spencer snapped his head your way, “what’s wrong?” hurrying over to you. annabeth stopped her work to watch both of you with her big eyes. you let a smile ease onto your face, “the baby kicked.”

annabeth scrambled over, “can i feel?” tucking her hands into her chest for restraint. “of course, sweets. here,” holding a palm out for her tiny hand to sit and you guided it over to where the kick happened.

“try speaking to them. they like hearing our voices,” whispering to your daughter when the baby didn’t kick right away. little annabeth leaned in close, her lips grazing your ticklish skin, “i can’t wait to meet you. i’m gonna be the best big sister to you.”

it took a moment but then another kick appeared, “kick! i felt a kick!” she squealed, giving a little jump to her body. she looked to spencer, “daddy! daddy feel the baby!” reaching for his hand like you did earlier.

spencer cooed and gasped with annabeth when another kick appeared. “hi little one,” spencer whispered close, “i’m your daddy and your big sister is next to me. we can’t wait to meet you.” another strong kick followed.

“okay, how about we give mommy a rest. cause my organs aren’t feeling happy about being a soccer ball.” ruffling at your daughter hair. annabeth pressed a kiss goodbye to the growing baby and went back to her art project.

spencer joined you on the couch, arm thrown behind your head and resting on your shoulders while you leaned into him. “how are you feeling? need anything?” his rich voice caressing your ear and making your heart race.

you turned to him with a bright smile, “i do actually. i need a thousand kisses from you. haven’t been given my usually attention.” pouting exaggerated.

spencer looked surprised, “a thousand? man i must be really behind.” clicking his teeth. you nodded, “you have mister. better get started.” puckering up with your eyes closed.

spencer’s light giggles filled your soul and then his lips on yours caused a craving. “more,” a quiet demand.

a fast peck, “oh this is gonna take awhile.”

a lingering drawl, “we’re getting somewhere.”

another fast kiss, but you could tell spencer didn’t move far away. his breath tingled your wet lips, “i’m gonna have to call hotch to babysit if you want all those kisses.” a fifth kiss before his weight left the couch and his footsteps disappeared. you thought it was a little funny he was gonna call his boss on an off day so your child and his could have that playdate that’s been in the works.

“bethie,” calling for your daughter with outstretched arms. she worked her way beside you on the couch an wrapped her arms in a side hug, here genetic reid puppy eyes glaring upon you. “would you be okay to have a playdate with jack today?” smoothing a hand over the crown of her head.

“really?” eyes wide with excitement. you nodded, “you have to be a good girl for mr and mrs. hotchner. that’s daddy’s boss and our friend, say please and thank you. and also make sure you’re cleaning up after yourself.”

spencer walked back into the living room, “the hotchners are on their way. and they happily agreed to bethie joining them on their trip to the aquarium.” scooping annabeth up, both of them yelling “aquarium! aquarium!”

“i wanna see the stingrays!” annabeth declared to jack when him and hotch appeared at your door fifteen minutes later. the three of you watched the two chat while you packed her little backpack of supplies, you handed it off to hotch with a grateful smile.

“thank you for accepting on short notice. i just really want to be alone with my husband, im deprived of attention. i’m wilting like a flower.” sighing and aching as you talked to hotch.

the older man smiled and lightly chuckled, you’re one of the few to crack that stone facade spencer says. “jack’s been missing her anyway, he was trying for a sleepover as well tonight.” you raised your brows, “we’ll see how the afternoon goes.”

once you were completely alone, you dragged spencer behind you into your shared bedroom. “more kisses please,” sitting at the foot of the bed.

spencer moved to stand in the space between your spread legs, his hands cupping at your cheeks like you were fine china. your wandering fingers slid under his plain t-shirt, sitting in his waistband and rubbing against his slim stomach. “don’t keep me waiting, pretty boy. i will start getting angry.”

spencer bent in and let his plush lips mesh with yours, his nose tickling at your cheek when he changed angles to broaden the intimate act. a hum sounded from your throat as you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue wonder, desperately needing a french kiss. a moan echoed in the room as spencer moved from your lips to your jaw, further down onto your neck.

“this- this is nice,” letting a hand sink into the ends of his hair. your nails scratching at his scalp as your eyes fluttered and pulse spiked.

“i love you so much,” lips causing a shiver to erupt. you sighed, “i- i love you too. so lucky for- for marrying you.” your hands starting to mess with spencer’s belt and zipper.

“gonna show you how loved you are.”

[biceratops7]

I’m gonna SCREAM-

We’ve already established as a fandom that Metatron could teach a masterclass on gas lighting, but I wanna talk about how he specifically validates the things Aziraphale cares for while simultaneously devaluing them under the surface.

First off, this moment?

Tells us everything we need to know. It sets the scene for exactly the games Metatron is playing. He makes Muriel feel important while openly insulting them (flat out calling them stupid), aka seamlessly reinforcing the idea that they’re less than to both them and anyone else in the room. He knows he can get away with this easily, he knows that Muriel, lonely, overlooked little Muriel, will be completely distracted by the fact that someone so important is taking an interest in them.

This is already horribly clever, but then later on you realize it’s doing even MORE heavy lifting when he appoints Muriel to run the bookshop. “See? What’s important to you is what’s important to me! I’ve graciously taken the time to ensure your beloved shop is looked after by Muriel. You know, the dim one!” …let’s suffice it to say he’s ensnared too birds with one net for this one, and that a pattern is already starting to arise.

So when Metatron says Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he’s a “natural leader” and “doesn’t just tell people what they wanna hear”? Yah he’s full of shit. Aziraphale struggles with his sense of purpose when he doesn’t have someone or something guiding him, and for thousands of years he’s been terrified of sharing his true feelings and opinions to 90% of people he’s known. Completely just trying to butter him up. Wanna know the real reason Gabriel seeks asylum with Aziraphale?

Exactly this. Gabriel just says so point blank. It’s not because Aziraphale is this person for him, it’s because despite knowing nothing, he has this instinct that Aziraphale is the only one who can possibly understand why Gabriel did what he did. He is, I mean as far as we know, the only other angel who has fallen in love. (In general, let alone with a demon.)

But nope, can’t have that. We can throw the promise of restoring Crowley in the mix to sweeten the pot, but we can’t acknowledge why he’d want that so badly in the first place. So now it’s cause they work so well together. We can praise the angel for the fallen archangel Gabriel himself coming to him protection and guidance, give him a gold star. But we couldn’t DARE imply that it was by virtue of Aziraphale’s courage to choose earthly love over heavenly. How Gabriel didn’t need a leader, but a friend who’s truly known the joys of adoring that “particular person” and the pain of needing to hide it.

Cause then Aziraphale would start getting crazy ideas, like that his silly little human feelings have a great deal of worth. That they have the power to inspire, form cracks in the institution, fundamentally weaken what has controlled and harmed him. We wouldn’t want him to know the true value of the cards he holds when he has the ace in a match against you, now would we? After all…

Metatron uses this ingeniously sinister tactic of taking away Aziraphale’s choice while giving the illusion that he’s actually opening up doors. Notice how he tells Aziraphale he would have the authority to do something as extraordinary as turn a demon into an angel, yet he never once puts the much simpler alternative of just working with a demon on the table? The sleight of hand here is that he’s being offered the opportunity to freely be with Crowley… but he’s already freely with him as is, no bargain to be made. In fact he fought to be. Metatron disappears this accomplishment right before our eyes, while seamlessly maintaining the illusion to Aziraphale that he (Zira) is in control.

He sets Aziraphale up for failure by only providing the option he knows Crowley will not only decline but be deeply hurt by. It’s all so cleverly planned. Once this plays out exactly how he wants, he delivers the finishing blow by diminishing Crowley and his “damned fool questions”. Suddenly doing a complete 180 and emphasizing how foolish and troublesome he is. Metatron was offering Crowley by Aziraphale’s side as The Carrot. Now he’s telling Aziraphale it was stupid of him to want The Carrot, un-heavenly.

Aziraphale’s life, love, happiness, it’s all not only a massive inconvenience for Metatron but a liability. He has successfully taken a weapon from Aziraphale’s hands he didn’t even know he had. Metatron sees the writing on the wall, and he wants it contained.

[static-radio-ao3]

@jegulus-microfic // february 7 // prompt: star // words: 1,416 // cw: referenced sexual content // part 1 + part 3

“So let me get this straight,” Barty says, pacing in front of the couch where Regulus is sitting with his back straight and his hands tucked between his knees. “You sucked off your ex in the bathroom, picked a fight with him because he wanted to return the favor, ended up hooking up with him and staying the night, and now you’re telling me he texted you?”

Barty ticked off every point he made, a full five fingers now held up in front of Regulus' face. Five offenses. Regulus fights to maintain eye contact but his resolve crumbles under Barty's unyielding stare. Barty Crouch Junior, a force of nature. If only he'd use his powers for good.

“That would be correct,” Regulus says after a moment of silence.

“And his name in your phone is do not fucking respond.”

“That would also be correct.”

“And what did you do?”

“I responded.” Regulus at least has the decency to hang his head in shame. He remembers how long it took his friends to piece him back together in the aftermath of Hurricane James.

Barty sighs, bone-deep and long-suffering. He pinches the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand and turning to face Regulus again. “Follow-up question: were you dropped on your head as an infant?”

Regulus perks up at that, because “Well—”

“Don’t answer that,” Barty says, voice clipped. “God, Regulus. Gold star for being a fucking idiot.”

“In my defense,” Regulus starts. He doesn't continue though. Lets the silence stretch until there is no give anymore. Barty cocks an impatient eyebrow. “He looked really good,” Regulus finishes lamely. A red flush crawls up his neck and Regulus is sure it makes the mottled bites and bruises on his skin stand out even more.

Barty stops pacing to shoot Regulus an incredulous look. “That’s such a bad excuse? He always looks good? If you’re gonna be dropping to your knees as soon as he's within a two-mile radius, just— don’t.”

“But—”

And really, Regulus isn’t sure why he’s about to argue. He absolutely should be kept away from James at all times and he’d been so good at it for a while, but then. Well. Before he gets a chance to argue though, Barty cuts him off again.

“Don't make me call Pandora. She will bring the list.”

That does shut Regulus up. A huge file with an annotated bibliography and an itemized list of why Regulus should stay away from James. They had used it against him before and it worked every time. This time though, he didn’t want his weaknesses pointed out to him just yet.

“Fine. I won't talk to James anymore.”

---

“And then you have the fucking audacity to text me?” Regulus asks, incredulity bleeding into his voice. James seems unbothered by it though, hip cocked against the kitchen counter and arms crossed over his chest.

“Would you rather I call you?” He asks.

Regulus whirls on him. “No! I'd rather you not reach out to me at all!”

“See, once again, I am finding that hard to believe.” James pushes himself off the counter and steps closer to Regulus. “Did celibacy make a liar out of you? Or did I fuck you so good you forgot all the things you said last night?” He keeps his voice low as he says it, but Regulus hears it loud and clear. He shifts under James’ sharp gaze. Eyes lazily tracking the way Regulus moves.

“I'm not fucking lying. Last night was a mistake,” Regulus lies. Because that’s what he does now. Apparently.

“Technically two,” James says. He bites his bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes stuck on one of the many bruises littering Regulus’ neck.

Regulus doesn’t need the reminder, he can feel the bites and bruises sting with every turn of his head. Hands pressed palm to palm and the two of them chest to chest. A leg between Regulus’ own and his voice so wrecked he didn’t realize it was his at first. James, softened by the low light in the room, all his sharp edges blurring into pleasure. The hum of a moan into the heated skin of his neck.

“Technically three,” Regulus murmurs, eyes getting hazy, but he catches himself a second later, straightening. “But that's not what we're talking about!”

“Isn’t it?” James cocks his head. A lazy smirk pulls at James’ lips. The sight makes something simmer hot in Regulus’ gut. “We seem awful good at making mistakes. Maybe they're not mistakes at all.”

“All of this was a mistake! From the beginning! We shouldn't have hooked up and we shouldn't have dated and none of this should've fucking happened. Not last night, not last year, none of it.” Regulus takes a heaving breath. Considers saying more, but then James cuts in with:

“Are you done?”

“What?”

“I asked if you were done.”

“I— Yeah. I guess.”

James takes a step closer again, boxing Regulus in against the table. He presses his palms down on the flat surface, one on each side of Regulus’ hips. He has to look up a bit to be able to look James in the eye when they’re this close. He always liked it.

“You know what, that would've hurt my feelings if I believed you. Although I guess I do think this was a mistake. In a way.”

The feeling of James’ breath hitting the side of his neck makes Regulus shiver. James dips down for the barest, briefest moment and drags his lips along the column of Regulus’ neck, tracing the path he laid out the night before. It takes Regulus a second to realize what James just said, too caught up in his closeness to register the words. He isn't prepared for the way that statement makes him feel, a sharp pang in his chest and a dull ache all the way down his fingertips. He curls them into fists, keeps them resolutely in his lap. But before he has a chance to react, James continues.

“See, I think we never should've broken up. Mistake number one.” James takes the smallest of steps backward just to be able to raise his pointer finger. Regulus misses the heat instantly. “And I think you shouldn't have left this morning. Mistake number two.” He raises a second finger. “And you know what they say about mistakes.”

He glances at Regulus thoughtfully, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

“Don't fucking make them?” Regulus asks.

“All good mistakes come in threes,” James corrects, a third finger now being held up.

“No one says that.”

“Maybe they should.”

“No, James,” Regulus shakes his head and leans back, putting some distance between himself and James. Or trying to, at least. “This is a bad idea and we both know it.”

James just leans into him more. Regulus goes a little cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. His focus is drawn to James’ lips instead. He remembers them pink and bitten. Stretched wide, spit clicking the corners.

“Come on, baby,” James hedges. “No more mistakes. Just me and you. And I'll be so good for you, good to you, I swear.”

His voice is molten honey, hot and sweet, and it sticks to Regulus’ skin like a physical thing.

And Regulus only has so much resolve. He unclenches his fists, allowing himself to reach out and touch. But the smooth fabric of James’ sweater is a poor substitute for the thing he really craves. It buzzes in his veins, a steady hum that's getting increasingly harder to ignore. There is no alcohol in his system to blur the lines he'd once drawn, he steps over them with his eyes wide open.

“You're addicting, you know that?” Regulus murmurs, mouth a few scant inches from James’. “Just can't fucking quit you. You and your Jamesness.”

Before James can reply, Regulus curls a hand over James’ throat and tugs him into a kiss. The buzzing in his veins quiets immediately, satisfaction rushing through them instead. It’s heady, kissing James again, even though it’s only been a couple of hours since their last kiss. James really is addicting. And Regulus is a weak, weak man.

---

is that a phone in your pocket or are you happy to see me [group • 4 members]

reg: hey guys....

evan: you're an embarrassment

barty: @panda send the fuckinf list

pandora: reasons why regulus should keep his dick in his pants and out of his ex [file type: PDF • 53 pages]

[jinwoosungs]

{ 181 }

perfect.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: i need to write out a sudden brainrot with another thirst post. if n-fw stories make you uncomfortable, or you are a minor, i recommend you skip this story and read my more fluffy stories.

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

anonymous said: Reader who's insecure x Jinwoo who fucks the insecurity out of them, like wdym you think you don't deserve someone like him? Hecc no I am gonna marry you one of these days 🙄😍😍😍😍 LMAOOOOOOO

anonymous said: oh my god… Belly bulge kink + dacryphilia +feral Jinwoo; This sudden thought got me thirsty and tweaking forreal ಠ⁠,⁠_⁠｣⁠ಠ

jinwoo took notice of how oddly quiet you were after dinner. because it was your 5 year anniversary, he wanted to be his usual, doting self, wishing to spoil you with a delicious dinner while surprising you with yet another gorgeous piece of jewelry.

for this year’s anniversary, he gifted you a diamond necklace that had a diamond in the shape of a star, the chain made of white gold. your eyes were awed at such a gorgeous sight, and you were so choked up with emotion that you could do little but return his sweet kiss the moment he clasped the chain on your neck.

you had run to the restroom after dinner, and he recalls giving you one last kiss before you excused yourself. jinwoo had simply been scrolling through his phone, waiting for your return, when he sees someone from his periphery sidle up to him.

“hello handsome.” a sultry voice calls out to him, filling jinwoo with disgust as the woman presses her breasts against his shoulder. “i see you’re all alone, perhaps i can keep you company tonight?”

jinwoo’s eyes glow a threatening purple hue, and he nearly choked the damn wench when he icily tells her, “no, thank you. i’ve got everything that i need with the woman i love. she is the only one that has my heart, so i suggest you back away from me right this minute.”

perhaps it was the tone in his voice, or the way his handsome features were painted in a permanent scowl filled with hatred that made the loose woman immediately back away from him. she lets out a huff, flipping back her long curls as she hastily walked away from him (trying to keep what little pride she had left with her).

but damn, it seemed that the damage had already been done when you reappeared, expression appearing devastated as you clutch on tightly to the straps of your purse.

“sarang.” jinwoo’s voice loses all traces of annoyance and hatred upon seeing you. he gets off his seat, wrapping an arm around your form when he sweetly asks, “shall we head home?”

when a soft hum heard coming from you was all that he hears made the warning bells go off in jinwoo’s head. his eyebrows were furrowed, gently leading you away from the restaurant and back into the car as he drove you back home.

he was ready to open the door for you, but shockingly, you shove open the passenger door first, already marching toward your shared home with your keys in hand. feeling bewildered, jinwoo could do little but watch you with wide eyes.

his hands were clenched in fists, slamming it down against his vehicle, nearly placing a dent within it. you must have seen that damn minx trying to seduce him. he had to clear up all misunderstandings-

he had to remind you that you were the only woman for him.

after spending some time outside, (giving you a moment of solace alone), jinwoo follows after you, with a hand shoved deep into the pockets of his dress pants. locking the door, he goes toward your shared bedroom, pushing open the door fully to see you staring at your reflection with a forlorn expression.

your dress lay beneath your feet in a crumpled mess of fabric. dressed only in your undergarments, he watches as you pick and prod at your every features while running a hand down in a slow and deliberate manner down your body.

admittedly, just seeing you touching yourself (even in such a non-sexual manner) was enough to make a shot of desire course through him. feeling his pants begin to tighten, jinwoo had to let out a deep breath so that he could try to communicate with you properly.

“honey, what’s wrong?” he joins you, remaining behind you as he brushes his lips against your hair. a whimper escapes from your lips when you tell him (sounding completely and utterly heartbroken), “you deserve better than me.”

jinwoo felt his blood run cold just then, lips already parted to voice his protests when you interrupt him, “i saw the woman that came up to you tonight. she was gorgeous, jinwoo. her makeup and hair was flawless, and she had an hourglass figure that women die for. and look at me, i’m-“

“you’re the only woman who can make me this hard.” jinwoo leans down to whisper harshly in your ear, biting down against the shell of it as he purposely presses your half naked form to the spot between his legs, allowing you to feel the tent you had caused beneath you.

“j-jinwoo?”

he lets out a grunt of your name, wrapping both of his arms around your frame before slamming you down against the edge of the bed. eyes becoming dilated with desire for you, he gives your lips a searing kiss, groaning when he feels them part for him as he greedily steals a taste of you. while keeping his lips locked against yours, jinwoo takes off your bra that keeps your breasts hidden from him, uncapping it as he tosses it aside, earning yet another moan from you.

he was panting heavily as he looks down at you with lust and love in his eyes, seeing you nearly naked for him with the diamond necklace the only item that covers your body. such a seductive sight was enough to make his blood go red hot, making his cock grow even more for you.

he adored your kisses, he truly did-

but jinwoo was a starving man-

and he wanted a part of you that tasted so much sweeter than what your mere lips could offer.

jinwoo keeps your body still, kissing down every inch of skin he could reach before settling comfortably between the fat of your thighs. he sees the familiar wet stain against your panties, letting out a dark chuckle as he slowly takes off the damp fabric with his teeth alone. gently gripping at the bottom of your panties with his teeth, he continues to slide it down, allowing the sight of your soaked core to be freed for his eyes to see.

letting out a guttural groan of your name, jinwoo places his lips directly against your slick walls, his tongue diving in to taste and devour your honeyed sweetness as you cling to dear life against the sheets that made up your bed.

jinwoo knew your body better than the back of his own hand. he could play it like an instrument, eliciting the right amount of breathy sighs and high pitched moans as he uses his fingers and tongue to bring you to heaven.

when he feels you spilling yourself into his awaiting mouth, a dark chuckle escapes from him. he allows his lips to press a gentle kiss against your aching pussy before moving himself away from you.

“fuck, you taste so good… i can’t hold back anymore, i just can’t.”

your eyes remained hazy and unfocused when jinwoo simply tears off his expensive clothes, tossing them aside (like trash) until he was left just as bare as you were. while his hungry gaze remained honed in on your face, he could see the tears beginning to form against your pretty eyes.

and that just made his need to claim you increase even more.

with a groan, he pulls you closer to him by your thighs, the mushroom tip of his cock already pressed against your entrance when he immediately thrusts deep inside of you.

you cry out when he begins to harshly thrust in and out of you, leaving you a mess as you lost all of your senses. not a single coherent word leaves your parted lips, only able to gasp and moan and repeat babbles that sounded oddly like his name over and over again.

and jinwoo wasn’t faring any better, for the moment he completely sheaths his cock inside of you, that was the moment he lost all train of thought as well.

the powerful hunter was absolutely mesmerized at how well you were taking him in. just seeing the sheer girth of his erection being hidden inside of your sweet cunt, even bulging against your soft abdomen, was enough to make jinwoo cum right then and there.

such a sight was enough to make him pound into you even faster, muscles clenching in response as jinwoo’s sole purpose was to gift you pleasure-

and gift you pleasure he did.

after a few more expertly timed and angled thrusts, jinwoo could feel your gummy walls clench tightly around him, trying to milk him for all he was worth-

but it didn’t work.

even with the evidence of your sweet juices coating his cock, jinwoo remained painfully hard for you. he gives you a few seconds of reprieve before continuing to pound into you, allowing the evidence of your release to cause the sounds of his lovemaking to be more apparent. each thrust was accompanied with a wet, squelching sound that makes your face heat up considerably.

“jinwoo… oh my god… jinwoo!” your cries of his name were like music to his ears as he proceeded to make love to you, pinning you to your shared bed as your toes curled in response to each and every one of his harsh thrusts felt against you.

how could you possibly think that he deserved anyone that wasn’t you?

how could you not see that he actually saw a future with you, with the engagement ring he had plans on giving to you hidden within one of his drawers?

ah, but perhaps he’ll save his proposal for some other time-

a time where he isn’t busy filling and splitting you open with his cock as he brought you to paradise throughout the entirety of the night ♡

a.n. - i need to get this thirst post out of the way and out of my system, so please forgive me 😭🙏🏻 completely unedited bc this is so self indulgent agslggkhssdhf

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)

Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers

OKAY LET'S GO

I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:

It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.

So!

5. Bulbasaur

It's. Just. So. Nice.

Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.

I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.

However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.

4. Snivy

Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.

But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.

Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.

3. Torchic

Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.

It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.

(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)

And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).

BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)

And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.

Which brings me nicely to this lad:

Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE

AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.

Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs

Also an impressive bulge.

My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.

2. Fuecoco

It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.

However.

Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:

EXCEPT

(Strap in)

This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:

SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.

It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.

And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:

Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:

The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.

THAT IS A LOT.

And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.

Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the  Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).

And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).

But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:

It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.

Quite simply, your fave could never.

5. Rowlet

My god. (My god)

gasp

Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.

He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.

And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)

I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:

IT'S A DANDY

I love him I love him I love him

He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome

This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.

Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.

IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS

Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.

The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!

It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.

A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.

Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay

[kcrossvine-art]

Heya folks! Its been a bit, food insecurity is a bitch, but today on the quest of cooking our way through Lord of the Rings we're gonna be making a dish exclusively mentioned in the 2007 MMO-

We will be making a Rohan Pasty! 

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Rohans Pasty?” YOU MIGHT ASKBasics. Meat n potatoes of your meat-in-dough food. .

All-purpose flour

Salt

Baking powder

Vegetable oil

Olive oil

Ground beef

Garlic salt

Ground cumin

Chili powder

Dried oregano

Waxy potato

Garlic

White onion

Egg

"A delicious local pastry filled with beef and potatoes."- LOTRO Rohan is a kingdom of humans in middle-earth, and the description point towards a cornish pasty (yes, pasty not pastry). Oddly enough the image is more of an empanada but you win some you lose some. This heritage informs much of the shape and ingredients of this dish, however we're opting to cook most of the ingredients before adding them in, contrary to going in raw as a cornish pasty calls for. I chose to deviate here because cooking beforehand allows more seasoning to be crammed in. The english hate seasoning.

AND, “what does a Rohans Pasty taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Tastes like the best pot pie youve had, less soggy

Excellent for an after-rugby/martial arts/soccer dinner

The potatoes are foundational

Despite needing the least work

Pasta salad (cucumber, olives, pepperocini) would pair well as a side

And would also pair well with beer

This meal bears the gold star sticker of not having any major issues! Hooray! Maybe its increased comfortability in the kitchen, or maybe its because of how very simple this one is. Chopped roasted bell pepper might be good in the filling in the future.

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

Get the dough ready ahead of time- its mentioned in the recipe below but i also wanted to say a foreword here that it needs to sit in the fridge for a few hours. Just so ya dont get everything out and realise itd take too long for dinner tonight. Speaking of dough, i feel like it could have more flavor added to it. Its bland and although its not part of the tradition of the meal its based off of, cornish meat pasty, it might be nice to add some spices like cumin or black pepper to the flour. 

The meal reheats perfect- wrap in papertowl and put it in the microwave for 30 seconds per pasty.

When picking your potatoes make sure theyre "new" potatoes (baby ones) or whichever potato with the least amount of starch you can get. Its important for it to cook inside the pasty that it not have too much lest it get Mushy Bad.

Another thing about its real-life inspo; Cornish pastys were workers food, stuff you could carry into the mines, stuff thatd reheat well. You could hold the crust with your dirty hands and throw it away once you ate the rest. I always feel partial to these foods. Although I'd still eat the dirty crust.

This recipe earns a solid 8/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Dough Ingredients:

370g all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

74g vegetable oil

240g warm water

Filling Ingredients:

2 tablespoons(ish) olive oil

1 pound ground beef

2 tablespoons tomato paste

Garlic salt to taste

Ground cumin to taste

Chili powder to taste

Dried oregano to taste

5 cloves garlic, minced

1 white onion, diced

Method:

Combine flour, salt and baking powder.

Add oil and water into mixer with dough hook running at medium speed. Mix for 1 minute, stopping several times to scrape the sides of the bowl.

When mixture comes together and begins to form a ball, decrease mixing speed to low. Continue to mix just until dough is smooth.

Take the dough ball, safely wrap it, and transfer to fridge. Let sit for at minimum 2 hours.

For the meat, get a large skillet, and add some olive oil over medium heat. Add the ground beef and garlic salt, cook until the beef is cooked completely.

Drain the beef and set aside.

In the same pan, add the garlic, onions, cumin, chili powder, oregano, and salt.

Cook until the onions are softened but not brown, 10 to 15 minutes. Re-add the beef and cook over low heat for about 5 more minutes.

Back to the dough, transfer dough from fridge to well-floured work surface. Roll into log and divide into 10 equal portions. 

Preheat oven to 350f.

Form each piece into a ball and flatten each with a rolling pin.

Add a layer of diced potatos down the middle of the pastys. Add the meat filling to each. Fold the sides of the dough up to seal on top in the middle.

Gently turn the pasty on its side and crimp the edge, alternating a braid pattern. Use knife to cut an "X" shaped slit in the top. Repeat for each pasty.

Place the pastys on a greased baking sheet. Lightly coat each pasty with an eggwash using a basting brush.

Cook for about 50 minutes, or until golden brown, and let cool!

[penelopepine]

Little Purple Stars

Part 1 Part 2

Ghost x FemReader x Soap

Content: Soulmate AU, fluff, no angst

Everyone had a soulmate; whether that connection was platonic or romantic was entirely up to those involved. Some people even had multiple soulmates, like you did, which wasn’t that uncommon. It happens whenever a person turns 20 yrs old. They are suddenly able to draw on themselves, and have the picture appear on the skin of your soulmate.

You had two soulmates; one of them rarely ever drew on themselves, and if they did it was only with a black pen. Usually said drawing would also be a little black heart next to something that you or your other soulmate drew. You’ve always called this soulmate, Moon.

On the other hand soulmate number two, or Sun as you called them, was much more open and was constantly drawing little doodles all over themselves.

Sun and Moon; basic maybe, but you’ve always felt that it fits them perfectly. 

-

It was your third time entering the Olympics and you couldn’t be more excited. You’re first year you unfortunately didn’t place, second year you won the bronze, and this year you were aiming for the gold. Most of all though, win or lose you hoped that by the end of today you will have made contact with your soulmates.

While getting ready for today you had drawn little stars in various shades of purple around your eyes, making them resemble freckles. Drawing on your face was generally frowned upon, but when events that are going to be televised all around the world exceptions are made.

You tried to give them a hint to watch the Olympics today by drawing the Olympics rings and a TV, but realistically you knew there was no way they could watch the entirety of the broadcast. Even if they did turn it on they could very easily miss your appearance. The only thing you could do now was hope that the two individuals with matching purple stars were watching.

-

Ghost watched as every little star slowly appeared on Soap's face knowing that his face looked the same only that the stars on his face were covered by the mask. It wasn’t until Gaz walked in the office as well and asked about them did Soap even know they were there.

“What do you mean I have stars?” 

“Yeah on your face,” Gaz pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo before showing it to the Scot. 

“You knew they were there and you weren’t going to say anything?” Soap turns to face Ghost with a playful grin, “Well now you gotta take off the mask; I can’t be the only one walking around here with star freckles.” 

“In your dreams MacTavish.”

Gaz chuckles at the two of them before he sits down in an empty seat, “So I know you didn’t do this,” pointing to Soap, “and you definitely didn’t do this. Can I ask why lucky number three decided to do this?” Directing his question towards the lieutenant. 

“I assume it has something to do with the Olympics.”  

“Aye, they drew that symbol yesterday didn’t they. I guess that was their way of giving us a warning for this; must be for some kind of watch party,” Soap guessed.

“Sounds like my kind of party, the ice skaters are performing in just a bit and I don’t plan to miss it.” Gaz holds his phone showing them the Olympic broadcast already up on his phone before popping in one of his earbuds. 

“I didn’t take you for someone who would enjoy watching figure skating; all it is is watching people move on the ice innit?” Ghost questions, he’s never had any interest in the Olympics before. It was never something he had time to sit down and watch. 

“We can go to an ice skating rink ourselves, and watch Soap try to skate if you want to watch more chaotic skating.” 

“Oi, I didn’t even say anything, don’t go dragging me into this!” 

“You were gonna say something and that’s enough for me!” 

“Yeah yeah whatever,” Soap turns back to the paperwork he had been working on, “I’d like to see you try and skate. Let’s see who’s laughing then.” 

The men chuckle to themselves and all of them focus on items in their hands. It wouldn’t be until an hour had passed that the silence amongst them was broken. 

Gaz’s sudden gasp drew both Ghost and Soap’s attention to him. 

“What happened mate; a skater fell down?” Ghost asks with slight amusement in his voice. He couldn’t imagine himself getting this worked up over anything as simple as ice skating. Continuing to watch as Gaz doesn’t say anything; simply sitting in his seat with his mouth slightly hung open. 

“Gaz?” Soap questions as he steps towards him. 

Very suddenly Gaz shoots up and steps towards him as well, grabbing Soap’s face once he is close enough. Holding up his phone and looking frantically between the two. 

“Aye, wha’ the fuck do you think you’re doing!” Soap swats Gaz’s hand away from his face, “Didn’t your mum ever teach you about personal space.”

“Look!” 

Soap focusing on Gaz’s phone to see what had the man so worked up. On the screen was a woman dressed in purple elegantly dancing on the ice, but what really caught his attention was the fact that she too had purple star freckles on her face; ones that matched his perfectly. “Oh fuck; Ghost!” 

Ghost couldn’t believe what he was seeing for a moment. They had finally found their missing piece. Watching her dance and spin on ice he suddenly understood why people would enjoy watching this. She looks ethereal. 

Looking at Soap he sees an awestruck look in his eyes. He won’t admit but the stars are quite cute on him; on both of them. How on earth did he end up with these two incredibly beautiful and talented people as his soulmates? 

Later all three men are huddled together over the phone watching the award ceremony. The room had gotten embarrassingly loud when it became clear that you had won; Price had charged into the room asking them what had them all yelling for. He had luckily understood when the situation was explained by a sheepish soap, who was definitely making the most noise out of everyone. He was quick to get his energy back though once Price had left the room.

“We have to let the lass know we know we saw her!” Soap rushes to the desk pulling out multi colored pens; waving them towards Ghost. 

-

You had done it! You had really done it; the gold was yours! Standing on the first place podium next to the other medalist you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmates are watching you. You hope they were proud of you if they had seen your performance.

Trying to subtly check any exposed skin for any kind of sign or acknowledgement that you had been seen, and to your great delight you had been. The sun and moon had found their star. 

There on your wrist was a drawing of a gold medal and right next to it was a little black heart. 

They had seen you, they knew who you were. That thought both excited and terrified you. The only thing to do now was wait for them to show themselves; to find you. 

Stepping down from the podium, and making your way off the ice you give your wrist a kiss and wave towards the cameras.

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ VICTORY BLISS.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

CATEGORIES ⠆fluff!, lil bit of angst- drama for no reason.. for the plot HAHA, shy!don, slight ooc with the boys, don going through it, the reader is lovely i swear, the guys being the #1 supporters of don, bobby being his #1 protector, sassy!bobby, bobby’s kinda mean in this but he means well i swear!

WORD COUNT ⠆4,613 (fun!)

star left a message! this was actually my first draft i had of don and i finally came around to finishing it! this came out much longer than i expected but i hope you enjoy~!

𝟒𝟏𝟏. don finally garners the courage to ask out the girl he's had his eyes on since the beginning of the semester.

"don! hey! so how you gon' celebrate?" bobby calls, jogging up next to him. the faint sounds of the other guys’ voices behind them, they had just come back from germany and all still high from the victory bliss. don had just gotten over a horrible fever, thanks to the guys he didn't think he'd be able to row– and be there when winning gold. now that it's over, they want to celebrate as much as they can, take advantage of a golden opportunity.

"er, not sure— sleep it off maybe." don utters, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walk further onto campus— towards their dorms, completely exhausted from traveling. the fact that they won olympic gold hadn't hit him yet and with their victory banquet in a few days time, maybe it would hit him then. the shorter man scoffs jumping in front of the taller, stopping him abruptly in his tracks.

"oh come on don, you gotta celebrate! you know soon enough girls are gonna be at your feet." bobby attests, arms flailing about in attempt to prove his point. don finds it almost comedic at how desperately bobby is trying to get through him, trying to hold back his laugh— he lets out "so?"

bobby squints his eyes looking a don incredulously "so? this time right now is your best shot— its now or never."

don could hardly speak to anyone, let alone girls— it became what he was known for. he didn't hate it because it was true, there was no room to deny it— it was just easier to manage, less to worry about but he could see where bobby was getting at, finally the narrative of seizing the moment getting through his thick skull after the many attempts of the team encouraging him to talk to girls more, so maybe this was it.

“i-i’ll think about it.” don nods, almost unsure of himself, he wasn't sure if he was saying it to satisfy his friend or to give himself some sort of encouragement. digging his hands deeper into his pants pockets. bobby’s face softens and he gives the taller male an optimistic smile, patting him encouragingly on his arm before joining the rest of the group. don heaves a sigh before continuing — his thoughts weigh his options for the rest of his walk to the dorms.

don mulls over what do over the course of a few days, with their banquet in a few days he knew had to do something soon. he had many ideas but one just kept coming back to him so he is putting all his chips in on this, hoping he doesn’t crash and burn.

don was nervous, he tossed and turned in bed just thinking about this. his heart beating loudly in his ears and almost out of his chest— he was sure people in the common room could hear it. he looks down at his feet, counting his steps as he approaches your table—trying not vomit from how on edge he was feeling. the words from bobby echoing in his head "this time is your best shot—its now or never."

taking a deep breath, he takes his gaze from his shoes to you. words couldn't describe how you looked, the sunlight peering through the window reflecting beautifully on your features making you look ethereal. he was enamored.

you were in the same physics lecture, you always sat two rows in front of him. he would catch himself drifting his eyes to the back of you head when the lecture got boring or when you turned to talk to your classmate, showing him your pretty side profile. he knew he was infatuated when you were paired during a lab and while don barely spoke– not even introducing himself. you were polite, nice and smart, a perfect trifecta. you always knew what to say and was so patient with him when you had asked him something and he didn’t respond right away. most times when he wouldn’t respond, people would get impatient or just brush him off; ignoring him completely. it was nice for someone to treat him with respect besides the guys on crew for a change.

breaking from his reverie, he realizes he’s stood before your table longer than he initially wanted to and yet you still haven’t noticed, to absorbed in your studies. don almost feels bad for interrupting and the thought of him just walking away and trying again some other day— or never crosses his mind but before he can even make up his mind, you finally notice.

"don! hi!" a soft smile peering at your lips as you stop writing, looking up at him. don's eyebrows jump in surprise, taken aback that you know him. a lump forms in his throat unsure what to say, awkwardly avoiding your gaze.

"yo-you know me?" letting his thoughts continue the conversation. he watches as you laugh- shaking your head for a moment before collecting yourself.

"it's hard to not know the stroke that won us a gold medal." you respond, voice laced with praise.

dons hand shoots up to the nape of his neck, flustered. "well i wouldn't say it was just me, it was all of us." he immediately denies, a faint blush glowing on his cheeks.

“i must give credit where it’s do, i mean you guys must’ve been amazing! well from what i heard on the radio at least.” you boast. his heart swells with pride hearing you sound so elated with how well they did— how well he did, in berlin. he felt his heart swell as you told him. his mouth runs dry as he tries to find the right words to continue the conversation and he kind of kicks himself for letting silence fall between the two of you. you speak up insisting you join him at your table, closing your books and putting them aside. he sits across from you, taking in your features that he thought about from time to time when he was away. you scoot you chair further in, knocking your foot against his, a shock coursing through him– no has ever made him feel this way.

“tell me about berlin, i heard you were feeling under the weather over there.” you start, quirking your head in curiosity awaiting his response. clearing his throat, don gathers his words.

“uh— yeah, it was an otherworldly experience. i never been out of country, out of state even but it was definitely different. an experience i would never forget” you can see his face brighten from talking about it, he speaks so descriptively about his time there it feel like you were there with him. “i was sick with some kind of bug. it was a grueling few days but was worth it after winning. it was amazing! i would do it all again if i had to.” you offhandedly realize that this was probably the most you’ve ever heard him speak and you find him so endearing as he spoke, he was so expressive when he was talking about something he was so passionate about and you loved it. you watch as he goes on about the olympics and the number of athletes he saw compete, you head rests on your hand watching him with attentive eyes letting him continue with his ventures.

minutes pass from dons tales and he realizes that he got lost in speaking about the olympics and droned on and on about it , he felt selfish for taking such time to talk about the most trivial of things— or so he thought.

“'m so sorry, i must’ve talked your ear off.” don cuts in the middle of a story he was telling, as he realized what he was doing. feeling guilty as he casts his eyes to his hands, falling quiet again. what he doesn't see is the small frown that casts on your face, your heart pangs at the thought of him thinking that what he was talking about wasn’t important, looking so dejected. a moment passes as he fiddles with his hands then he sees your hand coming into view clasping his. he raised his gaze and he sees you looking at him with a comforting smile smile.

“it’s okay, i like hearing your voice. i could listen to you talk all day” the compliment was simple but made his heart skip a beat. it’s now or never don gulps, his calloused hand encasing yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, you can tell he has something on his mind and he could take all the time in the world to say it and you would wait. “would you want to come to the victory banquet with me? it's in a few days.” his voice is timid and small, if the room was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear what he said.

you face brightens at his proposal, accepting without a moment passing “i would love to.”

the next few days passes with a blur as don and the rest of the team were whisked away to do interviews and photoshoots on their ground breaking win. it all happened so fast and before they knew it; it was already the night of the banquet.

you had promised don you’d meet outside of your dormitory so you could walk together to the hall. he gets there a bit earlier than you were promised to meet, he was nervous— maybe that being the reason he didn't want to be late and have you waiting outside for him. a cool summer breeze passing through as he leans against the brick ledge accenting the dorm building, soon moments turn into minutes and it crosses don's mind that you might have stood him up.

the thought makes him feel hopeless, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his art deco watch- a gift from coach ulbrickson, it was 6:40. 10 minutes had passed since your agreed meeting time. soon 10 turns into 20, he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt but you made him feel like a fool— embarrassed that he stood outside of the girls dormitory looking like some kind of perv. he rubs the back of his neck in frustration as he pushes himself off the brick wall, ready to leave. a part of him wants to wait— the part of him that hopes you lost track of time and were rushing out to him but to no avail. even in the moment more he waits, he ends up leaving with his heart heavy and pride wounded.

he thought you weren't like the rest. he was so sure you were different from the people who gave him odd looks or comments on how quiet he was. it makes him wonder if you even meant anything in the library that day, weighing heavy on his mind as he walks to the banquet, alone and dejected.

don was acting quieter than usual.

which, for anyone who wasn't close with don wouldn't have noticed but the guys on crew— who he spent almost everyday with, noticed. it was abundantly clear as they sat around the table at the banquet enjoying their dinner. usually don would laugh along with the jokes being made, react to when someone was telling a story— it was a small tells that he was having a good time but there was none of that. he sat in his seat— eyes casted down on his plate, pushing around his peas. there was something obviously on his mind; the guys could tell. they pass knowing glances around each other, unanimously decided they just had to know what was wrong.

"hey don, you okay?" joe speaks up besides don. he has a blank stare down his plate, lost in his thoughts not paying attention to the current conversation at hand. "don?" joe calls again, nudging his arm against don's, snapping him from his reverie. looking over at joe like a deer caught in headlights.

"i said are you okay?" joe repeats himself, his mates looking at him with concerning gazes awaiting his answer.

"hm, yeah— 'm fine." don lamented, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself rather than his friends. they had wondered where he was before the banquet started and didn't see him until the dinner. bobby raises his worry for don, the other boys agreeing. don continues to deny but they weren't going to let it go. he should be enjoying winning gold at the olympics, something never done before in UW history— they didn't want whatever was on his mind to hinder that.

"come on don, you can trust us— whatever it is we'll understand, even give you advice if you need." roger speaks up this time, his voice laced with comfort. as much as the guys teased and joked, they truly cared about each other— after all the hardships they went through together, they stuck close. the quieter male was heavy with emotion and with a lot of his mind. he confines in them, a reluctant sigh passing through him as he tells them— he wonders what went through your head the day he spoke to you and the days leading up to tonight. he was excited to see you again, talk to you, get to know you even better but it was all thrown out the window when you flaked on him. don tries to not miss any details and by the end of his explanation, the boys were feeling a mix of emotions. some felt bad that don went through all that— going out of his element to ask out a girl he was interested in and other were upset that you'd have the balls to stand up someone with the purest intentions. it's hard to dislike someone who you've never met but after hearing what was weighing heavy on don's mind, bobby had made up his mind that he didn't like you. though he would never tell don but if he were to ever come across you, he'd be sure to give you a piece of his mind.

don doesn't see you as the days pass.

he continued to wonder how you were, what you could be going through. he couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you and as much as the guys tried to steer him away; his mind always came back to you. practice helps him take his mind of you for a few hours, he knew better than to slip up during their practices— their tireless efforts to get better never ceasing even after their win.

it was around evening time when practice ends. they’re tired; mentally and physically— it’s been a rough week in general. the last thing don expects is you standing at the entrance of the shell house, rocking on your heels. don stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slacks and heart drops. he doesn't notice bobby almost bumping into his whilst walking closely to catch up to him.

huffing, bobby was about to ask him what was the matter when he follows the line of sight of his friend, before either two of them could say anything— bobby is trudging towards you, don just letting him go, still shocked.

"are you y/n?" a man with cloudy blue eyes glares at you, he stands square; inches away from you. his presence intimidates you— you glower under his gaze unable to stand your ground. you can barely speak up against him.

"y-yes, is don around?" your eyes wander behind him and you see don standing a few feet back. you try to move around the man in front of you but he stops you.

"who the hell do you think you are huh?" he accuses, leaving no room for you to respond as he begins again "you charmed don and lead him on— you made him get his hopes up! you know i'm the one that encouraged him to take advantage of this *pure winners bliss* but you just had to come around and screw it up huh? made his biggest fear come true and for what—? to make don the laughing stock for your friends? he had the best intentions you know, all he wanted was for you to give him a chance and it was just flushed down the drain!” the man was fuming, unable to keep his voice level as his emotions got the best of him. soon the guys who were still getting dressed peeked out to see what all the commotion was about. a heavy silence falls between the two of you, tensions high. you feel small in front of him as he berated you about what happened with don. your eyes cast down, wringing your fingers as you tried to compose yourself.

don heard everything, watched as bobby yelled at you for everyone to hear— he should've stopped him, stopped him from even approaching you in the first place but he couldn't, he froze in his spot the second he saw you, he felt *awful*— what happened a few days ago on the back burner. it wasn't until it was over don suddenly gained feeling in his legs again. he hadn't felt this nervous since their race in the olympics. as he nears the two of you he hears you speak up. voice small and meek.

"i deserved that."

their coxswain huffs– brows furrowed “you know what you don’t deserve? his forgiveness because—“

“that’s enough bobby.” don rests his hand on his friends shoulder, motioning for him to go. bobby was hesitant but reluctantly, he leaves but not before giving you another glare. that leaves you with don, the resting frown on his face as he looks at you– you avoid his eyes, sheepish and feeling embarrassed for what happened. you didn't even know how to begin, you weren't sure if he would even listen to you, give you the time of day but you wouldn't know unless you tried.

“don i–“

“let’s take a walk hm?” he starts past you before you have a chance to reply, following after him as he walks down the port. there’s knots piling in his stomach as he walked ahead, his fists balled so tight in his pockets they began to feel numb, he had no idea how to go about this. he wasn’t even sure if he was ready to forgive you— but after seeing you get yelled at and berated by bobby, something inside him felt off. he couldn’t stay mad at you forever, the least he could do is hear you out.

the water splashing against the wooden beams of the deck fills the silence as don stops at the end, his back facing you. hands stuffed in his pockets and heart heavy. he didn’t say anything as moments pass so you take it as your cue to speak.

“don… i know i have no place in apologizing but i’m sorry and i understand if you never want to talk to me or forgive me for what i did” you pause for moment, watching his back– waiting for him to say something but you’re met with silence so you continue.

“i-i really wanted to go with you, i did! i was looking forward to it all week… i had a dressed picked out and everything! but when the day came—" you fault for a moment, your hands fiddling with your sleeves. eyes cast down "m-my parents called and my sister got into an accident… i went home for a couple of days and the whole time i was there; i just felt horrible for leaving you, and knowing how much i hurt you. i would make it up to you any way i can if you let me…”

the silence was deafening, you try your best from losing composure and crying on the spot. overcome with emotion— the silence was killing you as you waited for don to say something, anything— he could tell you he didn’t want to see you ever again and that would be enough for you.

"is your sister alright?" you let out a sound of surprise when he asked, doe eyes looking at him. he’s turned around now– the sun setting a glow that illuminates against his figure. you eyes focus on his face, nose slightly red from the cold.

"yes, she's perfectly fine now." you nod, wringing your hands. tears threatening to spill as you look at him.

don turns to look at you with a mix of emotions, his eyes filled with hurt and longing. you can see the conflict in his expression as he tries to process what you've said. after a moment of silence, he takes a step closer to you, closing the distance between you.

“you really hurt me you know.” he utters, voice fragile.

“yes and i would do anything to remedy that—” you’re desperate for his forgiveness, your voice sounding aspirated as you tell him. you’d go to the ends of the earth just for him to forgive you.

“and yet no matter how much i felt hurt by you, i couldn’t get you out of my mind.” he confesses, his voice soft and vulnerable. "i was angry and disappointed, but deep down, i still cared about you."

tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his words. the weight of the misunderstandings and missed opportunities of that day feels heavy on your shoulders. you reach out and gently take don's hands in yours, holding them tightly.

"i'm so sorry, don," you whisper, your voice filled with remorse. "i never meant to hurt you, i should’ve told you somehow… i’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”

don's grip on your hands tightens as the other dabs at the tears that fallen on your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours.“i’ve never felt this way about anyone y/n, i hope you realize. you plague my mind day and night, these past few days where i was supposed to be upset with you; i was worrying if something bad happened, how you were feeling, what you were thinking.” he confesses, sorrow and regret lacing his voice “i thought what happened that day would make me loathe and resent you for hurting me… but i could never hate you, i can’t let what happened define our relationship.”

you look up at him with a glimmer of hope. you watch as he takes a deep breath, standing ever so closely.

“i want us to start again.” dons eyes shine a soft amber as he looks down at you, the sun encasing his features with a soft glow. illuminating the freckles that litter his face; imitating a galaxy of stars. he’s a dream come true.

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you feel a sense of relief wash over you. his expression softens as he sees the smile he’s come to adore so much, the tension that had been building between you starts to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and comfort.

“i promise, i will never hurt you like that ever again.” you say, your voice filled with earnest. don feels as if hes back in the common room with you, talking to you for the first time. he’s lovestruck and there was nothing that could happen that would get rid of it. he’s sure you’ll never do anything to break his trust again, your devotion now so clear to him.

“i know.” a crooked grin plastered on his lips, his arms wrapping around you in a soft but tight embrace. as if he were to let go you’d be gone again. he felt content, all the stresses from the week leaving him as he’s in your arms. a feeling he will never tire of.

“so how should we properly start again?” you breathed, your face incredibly close to dons. a soft flush crawling on your neck as you flicker from his lips to his eyes, him doing the same. it feels as if time stops as you share this moment together, drawing closer until your lips touch. the kiss is slow and tender— moving slowly as he relished on the way your lips feel on his. they’re soft and plush, fitting perfectly against his, like a breath of fresh air. he thought about what it would feel like to kiss you but nothing could compare his thoughts to the real thing. it was just you and him. his his hands rest against on your hips pulling you flush against him, your arms around his neck as he slightly dips you back. passion growing ever so slowly as he continues to kiss you, his kisses becoming more heated, the addictive feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of you.

you break away from him reluctantly, mirrored heavy breaths as you look at each other with affectionate gazes. he clears his throat, composing himself. he pushes your hips back to create space between you. trying to fight the nerving urge to kiss you again as he looked at your rose tinted lips.

“i propose we properly take advantage of this winners bliss everyone keeps talking about.” a giggle escapes you as you embrace him again, this time he twirls you, in your own little world—happy with a profound adoration for each other. the sun setting behind you, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink.

the fact they won gold really hitting him now, considering he had a win of his own.

bonus.

“bobby! what could i do for you?” your brows jump in surprise as you look up from the book you’re reading, you had thought it was don since the spot you were in wasn’t as well known, the last person you expected to see was bobby.

“i just wanted to apologize about what happened… a week ago.” he trails off, looking sheepish in front of you. a stark contrast to the man that defended his friend so willingly against you.

“did don send you here?” you tease, a playful smile on your lips. bobby huffs, denying immediately. no, don did not send him to apologize. he came on his own accord, after what happened that evening. don was lovesick the moment he entered the dorms and bobby felt terrible for what he had did, even if he thought you deserved it at the time. he knows now that you make his friend happy and that’s all he cared about.

“don’t worry bobby, i forgive you. i needed that berating, i deserved it. you’re a really good friend to don you know.” you state matter-a-factly. looking at him with appreciation, bobby’s chest puffs at your praise. he crosses his arms over his chest, proud.

“oh i know, i was the one who encouraged him to go for it remember?” you laugh, nodding.

you guess you have bobby to thank for this, you'd have to mention this to don later... speaking of you'd have to tell you're friends about your new lover... speaking of friends:

“hey you’re not seeing anyone by chance?” you suddenly ask, bobby falters—taken aback from your question.

“uh, no. why?” he responded, his head quirking in curiosity from the sudden and a bit uncalled for question.

“no reason, i just feel like a friend of mine would really like you.” you shrug, returning to your book. bobby takes the book from your hands, resting it on the table.

he takes a seat across from you, his hands laced together. as if in a business meeting “say no more, what’s her name?”

he’s all in.

(this is how you and bobby became bffs btw.)

stars ending-ment! i honestly love how this came out and omg is this a segway to a bobby fic????? who knows... it could be hehe. (lmk if you guys would want that lol)

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Barbie Girl 💄 | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of Top Gun Maverick

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Barbie!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content warnings: light profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @kayla-swiftly)

Premise: They say the sky is the limit and anything you set you’re mind to will be achieved as long as you’re dedicated to it. For most people that testimony is nothing but a mere fantasy. But for one woman, with too many dreams to count on her fingers, she took that statement to heart. Proving you can be anyone you want to be and maybe even a few others give or take 😉

Note: Anyone else obsessed with Barbie lately?? Omg y’all I saw the movie last week and absolutely fell in love and i had this request from around the time the final trailer dropped and knew it was the perfect time to write this. I know I know I haven’t been living up to my promise of being consistent but man they having me working my ass off at my job. Also I’ve been traveling and I saw Big Time Rush last night (i felt like a teenager again and it was amazing 😭) anyway I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think!

—————————

“Hi, Barbie!” The familiar greeting fills Y/n’s ears as it does every morning she arrives at the hangar. With it comes an instant smile, hand raising to wave at the person responsible for it, “Hi, Phoenix!”

“Hey there, Barbie,” winks another friendly face.

“Hiiii, Hangman,” her tone is playful like his, turning energetic for Bob when he goes, “Hiya, Barbie!”

“Hi there, Bob!”

“Hey, Barbie.” “Good morning, Barbie.” “What’s up, Barbie Girl.”

“Hello, Rooster.” “Good morning to you too, Fanboy.” “Nothing much, Pay. And yourself?”

Unlike her fellow pilots, clad in their deep green flight suits, Y/n stood out in the crowd for hers was a little unorthodox when one thinks of a naval fighter pilot's uniform.

It was pink. Completely as in her combat boots were also the bright color and the patchers were white and pink tones rather than red, blues, black and any other color seen in the ones attached to her coworkers arms. ‘Barbie’ in pink cursive writing instead of traditional bold Times New Roman lettering.

And don’t forget the little flower dotting the ‘i’.

Growing up, Y/n took ‘you can be anyone and anything you want to be,’ quite literally. At no point was it a joke to her when she would tell her friends and family, “oh I’m gonna be a fashion designer and Olympic Gold medalist when I’m older,” “I wanna go to space, fly in planes, and see all the wonders of the world,” “I’ll be a doctor, a teacher, and movie star!” They’d smile and laugh, thinking it was adorable for a little girl to dream big. No way would it be possible to achieve all of those careers. Everyone only gets one life to live and time goes so fast one can only set their eyes on one path and hope for the best.

But Y/n was a dreamer. And if you’re going to dream, might as well dream big.

All through middle and high school people took Y/n’s intelligence for granted. Focusing more on her beauty rather than brains, it came as an under shock to everyone when Y/n had the credits to graduate at the ripe age of 15. Exceeding in her standardized test scores with a high school resume taking up three pages with extracurricular and academic achievements, she had colleges from all over the country begging for her to apply.

Stanford. Cornell. Pratt. Juilliard. NYU. John Hopkins. Harvard. UCLA. Duke. Top medical and law schools. Ivy League universities. Performing Arts schools calling for auditions after sending scouts to watch her perform in school plays and dance recitals. Coaches from high ranking NCAA gymnastics teams sending emails after emails.

So many to choose from….And so the story of Y/n L/n becoming a real life Barbie Doll begins.

Setting her eyes in New York, Y/n attended not one but two of the best schools in the country. While obtaining her bachelor’s in both astronautical and aeronautical engineering at NYU Y/n also completed a two year degree in Fashion Business Management at the Fashion Institute of Technology. During this time she continued training for the Olympics in hopes of making the 2008 Beijing team in gymnastics.

“How do you do it?” Her roommate at NYU constantly asked. “You go from here to FIT, working on two degrees that are completely on opposite sides of the spectrum and career paths,” she emphasized with hand expressions, “and still have enough to time to go to the gym to practice, eat three meals a day, have all your assignments done early, and sleep a reasonably about of hours each night.” Letting out an exhale, her roommate looks at Y/n as if she’s an alien from another world, “What’s your secret? Are you some kind of Barbie doll the government created as a test robot?”

Each time Y/n would pause, think for a moment before smiling, “I don’t know if I should find that as an insult or compliment, but I’m gonna chose it as a compliment and say it’s because I want to live a life where I can look back on and go, ‘I took a risk and tried something new even if it didn’t look possible but it was all worth it.’”

By the time Y/n turned 20 she had accumulated a vast list of credentials to her name. The list included getting her fashion business degree at 17, Bachelors in astronautical/aeronautical engineering at 19–receiving her Master’s for it at 20–An Olympic Gold and Silver medalist, dancing with the Radio City Rockettes, performing with the NYC Ballet Company in their rendition of Swan Lake, landing a role on Broadway, walking a runway at NY fashion week, and appearing on episodes of SVU, 30 Rock, All My Children, Sex and the City, and Ugly Betty.

So yeah, New York was a success in experiences for Y/n.

Following the high note, she packed her bags to leave the golden apple for the flashing lights of Hollywood, California. This time Y/n was working on her doctorates at USC, running her own business with her fashion degree called ‘Dream Closet’, and auditioning for film and tv shows.

Hollywood was a dream come true just like New York. Again she attended two different schools, this time flight school and USC. During the day she was occupied running from class to the hangar and then the observatory. Coaching dance and gymnastics on the side, designing clothes for her online shop which developed into a pop-up chain store in malls across America.

It wasn’t long until Y/n’s name grew into nationwide popularity. People started realizing the Y/n L/n who won the Gold and Silver medals in the 2008 Olympics was the same one responsible for the most recent fashion trends and guest starring on their favorite tv shows. What really set it in stone was when Y/n landed the role of an engineer officer in the 2009 reboot of Star Trek, going on to appear in both the 2013 and 2016 sequels.

Impressive was the only word her costars could use to describe her. What else was there?

Anytime there was a question involving, “who’s most likely to become president?” “Who’s most likely to try something new or create a new hobby?” “Who’s most likely to win a Nobel Prize?” Along those lines…the answer was obvious.

“Oh Y/n,” Zoe Saldana waves her hand, “Always.”

“Yeah,” Chris Pine agrees with a laugh, “That woman, I-I don’t know how one has the energy to do all that she does—a-and still want to do more.”

The Interviewer laughs with them, “didn’t she just race in the Daytona 500 last year?”

“Yes!! And she did a song with Lady Gaga when they were on American Horror Story,” Zoe’s tone is in absolute awe, “All while teaching at USC and creating new technology at NASA.” Chris lifts a finger.

“Don’t forget she had her own Mac Viva Glam line a couple years ago.” Zoe made a sound along the lines of ‘see what I mean,’.

“I’m telling you, she’s gonna be a name in the history books.”

What all has Y/n accomplished career wise? Let’s take a look.

Model, dancer, actor, singer, fashion designer, entrepreneur, athlete, engineer, race car driver, and professor.

And now she can add pilot to the list. Although she got her license to fly way back in 2009, Y/n didn’t put it to use full time until 2016, wanting to wait until after the release of Star Trek: Beyond to say goodbye to Hollywood for the time being and set forth on her next adventure.

Boy did it come as a surprise what she had planned.

The Manila folder containing her resume hit the desk of the Admiral, his eyes wide as saucers. “You wanna join the Navy?” Reading the front page for a fifth time, Cyclone glanced back at the woman in front of him. Doctor Y/n L/n. Or is it professor L/n? “And you wanna be one of my pilots?”

“Yes, Sir.”

”Ma’am, I apologize if this comes off as offending,” he really didn’t know any other way to put it. “But you are more qualified than any person on this base. Doctorates in aeronautical and astronautical engineering from the University of Southern California,” he counts off on his fingers, “you recently developed a groundbreaking advancement in space technology that’s going to help our astronauts—on the road to becoming a Nobel Prize nominee.” He raises his eyebrows, “And this is only what relates to this career field. I’m not even mentioning your acting, athletic, and fashion credentials. Why join the Navy?”

Y/n only offers a shrug, “I think the better question is, why not?” Cyclone lets out a sigh.

“What did you say your callsign was again?”

“Barbie.”

There was no stopping the small smile trying to break free, “I should’ve guessed.”

After completing OTS there was much debate on what Y/n’s rank would be coming into the Navy. Civilian lawyers and physicians often are Lieutenants (O-3) right away, but considering Y/n had two doctorate degrees and her pilot license they felt it was only fair for her to come in as Commander (O-5). From there Y/n was sent to North Island to attend Fighter Weapons School.

Better known to its flyers as Top Gun.

Y/n was used to the looks she received on a daily basis. From head to toe she was covered in variations of pink depending on what she was feeling. When teaching her briefcase and pantsuit were baby pink, in the labs her coat was hot pink, at auditions she wore pink leather jackets. Even her race car for the Daytona was pink.

Shoutout to Mac cosmetics for the sponsorship.

So it’s no surprise her flight suit would be the color she was known for—despite it being out of regulations.

Being more qualified than your superiors had its perks.

If she could have a pink F-18 she would but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. That was okay for Y/n. After all, she managed to get her own custom flight suit. One which had everyone having to do double takes whenever she walked into a room.

“Is she wearing…?”

“How the hell did they allow that?”

“Does that mean I can have mine in purple?”

Her first day at Top Gun Y/n met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. They were paired as roommates in the dorms and quickly became good friends. Phoenix was beyond amazed with Y/n’s accomplishments and experiences. Every conversation led to a new discovery. “Do you ever burn out?” Nat stag criss crossed on Y/n’s satin pink bed sheets, admiring her wall of photos from when she traveled to see all the wonders of both the ancient and modern world. “I feel I’d be a walking corpse from exhaustion. And you mentioned you’re still running and designing clothes for ‘Dream Closet’?”

Y/n removed her diamond studs, placing them on her desk she was using as a vanity. “I have a team dealing with the business side of things for the brand. I’m still CEO and creative director—usually I work on designs for a couple hours before bed to prepare for the next launch.”

Nat was in awe, “I have to ask….what’s been the best career you’ve done so far?” A common question Y/n heard, there was never a true answer. She loved every career. They all had their perks and their flaws, but at the end of the day it left her satisfied she achieved them.

“I don’t know yet,” she spoke truthfully, “I still have a few to check off on my list. When that happens I’ll let you know.”

Fast forwarding to 2019, Y/n answered the phone to Admiral Simpson’s voice with the news she needed to report back to North Island for a highly confidential mission. The details were unknown, but Y/n packed her bags, loaded her pink vintage corvette convertible and high tailed it to sunny San Diego.

The squeals initiated by Y/n and Nat the moment she stepped foot in the Hard Deck had heads whipping in their direction. “Hi, Barbie!” Nat’s arms opened for a hug.

“Hi, Phoenix!” Y/n accepted the embrace, still grinning ear to ear. The guys around them were looking at each other like, ‘what the…?’ Y/n wasn’t in her standard Khakis like they were—minus Rooster. She bore a pink denim number with matching boots with her hair curled and pink eyeliner surrounded by tiny rhinestones.

“You got selected too?” Nat complimented her outfit before cutting straight to the point.

“For the special detachment? Looks like it,” she winked.

“What happened to the Artemis program? Weren’t you up as a candidate?”

“Oh I still am,” Y/n affirmed proudly, “They’ll be announcing who’s to be selected in the coming months. So for now I’m still with the Bounty Hunters. Plus,” she leans in to whisper, “this will look good on my resume.” The two giggle before Y/n drifts her gaze to the boggling gazes in front of her. “Oh! I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m Y/n L/n,” extending her hand to the first person who’s name tag read Fitch, Y/n added, “But you can call me Barbie.”

“Barbie,” the blonde holding a pool cue repeated like a question, “like the toy Barbie?” Nat chuckled, throwing an arm around her friend after she was done shaking everyone’s hand as they introduced themselves.

“Fellas, if there is anyone who is a life sized version of Barbie, it’s this one right here.”

“Now, Phee…” Y/n’s tone was that of, ‘Don’t start.’

“It’s true,” the pilot defended. “Not only is she Commander Y/n ‘Barbie’ L/n,” jaws drop, “but she’s Professor and Doctor L/n.” The jaws hit the floor, “On top of founder, creative director and CEO of ‘Dream’s Closet,’” Javy makes a sound, familiar with the brand, “Emmy nominated actress,” Fanboy chokes on his water, “Olympic Gold Medalist and soon to be astronaut for the Artemis program.” By now all the guys are on the verge of losing their minds.

Bob rapidly blinks, “uh—.”

“Now I’m not an astronaut yet,” Y/n points out, “I’m a candidate for one.” Nat scoffs lightly.

“They’d be stupid not to pick you, Barb,” she then slaps her side, turning back to the guys, “Oh and how could I forget Broadway, Vogue, and the Daytona 500.”

“Daytona 500!?” Payback practically screeches.

“You were on Broadway?”

“—featured on Vogue—?!”

“Wait a minute I recognize you from Star Trek!”

“—How in the hell—.”

“Guys, guys!” Y/n laughs with her hands slightly raised, “Please, one at a time.” They were in for a long night of questions and story times. And just like Nat was years prior when she first roomed with Y/n at Top Gun, the officers were in complete amazement over the woman in front of them. Never had they met anyone like her.

“Wow,” Jake whistled once she finished bringing them up to date on her most recent careers. “You really are a real-life Barbie.”

“Shhhh,” a finger went to her lips, followed by a wink, “don’t tell Mattel.”

And thus the dagger squad was formed. Two and half weeks of hell bearing training preceding a face-with-death mission brings people closer. Every morning Y/n arrived at the hangar to a chorus of “Hi, Barbie.”

She waved at Reuben, “Hi Payback.”

“Hey there, Barbie Girl,” Javy threw her a peace sign.

“Hiya, Coyote!”

“Good morning, Barbie,” Rooster tipped his hat.

“Mornin’, Rooster.”

“Hi, Barbie!” “Hi, Barbie!” Her favorite duo harmonized.

“Hi, Bob! Hi, Phee!”

And for some closer than others….

“You know I was thinking,” Jake commented, taking Y/n’s hand before leading her to the pottery class he signed them up for. Every Friday night was reserved for date night. Dinner and a movie. Walk on the beach. Spending $20 worth of quarters at an arcade. Attending a comedy show. Paint and sip. Following the successful mission, Jake and Y/n hit it off and began seeing each other.

“Famous last words.”

“It’s not bad,” a chuckle left his lips, stopping at the door. “I just thought it was funny. You know how you’re basically Barbie?” His cheeky smile resulted in her mirroring it.

“Yessss.”

“This means I’m pretty much your Ken, right?” The question makes the woman visible ‘awe’. Jake ruffles a hand through his hair and gives his best blue steel, “we kinda look alike. Don’t you think?”

Laughing, Y/n kisses his cheek, “I mean…name a more iconic duo than Barbie and Ken.”

“Barbie and Hangman?”

“Exactly.” It was safe to assume what their Halloween costumes were going to be.

Time went on, missions were run. And after a year of anticipation—though it felt like forever, it was finally announced in 2020 Y/n would be one of the astronauts selected to be part of NASA’s Artemis program launching in 2024.

Making Y/n the first woman to go to the moon.

The call came in from a restricted number when they were in a meeting, and knowing she was to expect a call within the month everyone quickly shut up so the pilot could answer.

She excused herself to leave the room, staying in front of the window so the team could see her. Throughout the conversation Y/n’s expression remained neutral to the point none had a clue whether the news was good or bad. Only when she reentered the room did they get the answer.

“I’m going to the moon!!!”

“Ahhh!!!!” The team exploded in an array of cheers, Y/n jumping up and down, careful not to drop her phone that was in her hands when Jake lifted her in his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” Despite being unauthorized to show pda in uniform, Jake gave her a big kiss on the lips, not caring who saw. “You are the most exceptional human being on this planet.”

“Jake,” tears welled in her eyes, which he kissed away. Her heart filled with warmth and gratitude. Feeling on top of the world with her closest friends supporting her.

Once all calmed down and they finished the meeting, Mickey jumped from his seat, “Come on Barbie, let’s go party!” Everyone sped to the Hard Deck to celebrate the news. Mav bought the first round, followed by Payback.

“Guys you don’t have to do all that,” Y/n said once she realized they all agreed to buy her drinks for the night.

“We want to,” Nat tapped her beer with Y/n’s cocktail glass, the guys voicing agreements. “For years you’ve been dreaming about this and it’s finally happening. Your hard work is paying off and we want to celebrate—show you we love and appreciate you, Barbie.”

Y/n fought back tears, never afraid to show her emotions. Some may find it childish or thinned skin, but to Y/n that was what being human was all about. “I love you guys.”

“We love you!” The voices echoed together.

The night had been going well with the squad hanging out by the pool tables like they usually did when Y/n approached the bar to pick up the next round Mickey was paying for. Not paying attention to those beside her, she smiled at Penny and repeated the order before waiting patiently.

But what’s a night at a bar without someone who lacks boundaries.

“You must be the one they call Barbie,” a voice says, flirtation seeping through the words. Glancing to her right, Y/n recognizes a gentleman from the flight line whose name she could not recall. “You’re quite the talk around base. In fact, weren’t you in some Hollywood blockbuster?”

“Yes,” she politely responds, keeping the answer short. Though she was known to be a sweetheart and kindhearted to anyone she met, Y/n could tell where the interaction was heading toward and did not feel comfortable entertaining it any further. “A long time ago.”

“I’m Lieutenant Paul Billings,” he extended his hand, and she immediately clocked he was trying to show off his rank. ‘Boy he’s in for a treat.’

Not wanting to make a scene, she accepts the handshake. “Commander Y/n L/n,” there was emphasis on the Commander, displaying the woman was of higher rank and therefore a silent warning to Billings to not cross a line.

There was a flash of surprise on his face. Y/n held back an amused laugh, ‘guess you didn’t hear everything.’

“Something the matter, Lieutenant?”

“No,” he brushes it off, “Nothing. Say,” he nods to the bar, “can I buy you a drink.” Did he not just hear her order a round for the people she came with?

“That’s kind of you,” she starts just as Penny arrives with a try full of cold beers and her usual cocktail. “But I’m all set, thank you.” Hands moving to take the tray, she jumps slightly at the feeling of his own coming to her wrist.

“What about lunch this week?”

“I’m sorry but I am spoken for, Lieutenant,” removing his hold, Y/n takes a step away.

Now Paul had lost his reasonable composure. Scoffing, he says, “What? Am I not enough for you?” The question results in her raising a brow.

“I beg your pardon?”

He makes a face, “You think because you’ve done all these careers and occupations that you’re better than the average person? I’m not a pilot and an actor or researching the cure for cancer while creating a documentary series,” venom seeps through his tone, obviously depicting his jealousy, “Basic is not up to your standards, so you have to throw our failures in our face as if we don’t already know.”

By now a crowd has formed. Jake started moving the second he noticed Billings etching too close to his girl, followed by Nat and the others who were ready to back him up. Behind the bar, Penny was fixing to ring the bell until being stopped by Y/n’s wave of the hand.

“Are you done?”

Paul’s expression was that of, “what?” No audible response was voiced therefore Y/n continued.

“Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and say this, Paul,” Y/n drops her shoulder. The change in body language let Jake and her friends know she wasn’t taking anything that the man said personally. “I know I should be offended by your insults and insinuations, but the truth is I’m not.” A small smile forms on her lips, “I don’t view myself higher than anyone because of what I accomplished. The only person I do that to, is myself—because I don’t have to prove to no one but me that I am capable of achieving what I set my mind to. And yeah,” a light chuckle escapes, “I’ve set my mind to a lot of things—way more than the average person. But that doesn’t mean you or anyone else can’t do the same.”

Pausing Y/n takes a breath before exhaling, “You look at me, and hate the way it makes you view yourself. Makes you believe you’re a failure because you didn’t follow the path you hoped to make for yourself.” Paul’s expression shifts to one of solemnity, like he was thinking of his younger self who had dreams and aspirations. Mourning what could have been.

It made Y/n sad for him. Empathetic despite him attacking her. “One thing I’ve learned over the years…is time is what you make of it. Life is about taking risks. You can still set out to do whatever it is you wish, as long as you’re committing to taking the risk no matter how scary it is. Sure you’ll find obstacles and it’ll feel like the whole world is against you. But determination will guide you through the walls, and you will be successful so that you can look back and think, ‘it was worth it.’ As cliche as it sounds,” she couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Barbie isn’t a person or an object you can obtain. Barbie is a mindset. And you have to unlock it in your own way, Paul.”

It was so quiet in the building, a pin could drop and everyone would hear it. Their looks of awe, admiration, and even newfound motivation by Y/n’s speech. Impressed by how classy she handled what very well could have been a scream match between rival squadrons.

Behind Billings the Dagger squad stood with proud smirks at their friend. Especially Jake, who caught Y/n’s eyes and threw her a wink. Nat gave the woman a salute, a silent gesture to say, ‘you inspire me everyday.’

And Billings? Well he was at a loss for words.

Patting his shoulder, Y/n grabbed the tray of drinks, “I wish you luck, Paul.” Thanking Penny, who gave her a proud nod and replied, “this ones on the house,” Y/n returned to her friends where she was met with a sweet kiss from Jake, claps on the back and “You go girl!” “Tell them who’s boss.” “Damn, you made me wanna go out there and live life the way I should.”

“What’s stopping you, Javy?” she handed him a beer, “the world is your playground.”

A couple hours later it was time to call it a night. Hugs went around, promises to meet up the following night and tabs were closed.

On their way out, Jake dropped a kiss to Y/n forehead, pulling her close to him as he led her to the door of the parking lot, “So what’s next for you, doll? You’ve proved you can be anything and anyone you chose to be,” he grins at her, “What will you set your mind to now after space?”

“First, I want to write a book—I think that’s something a lot have been waiting for me to do. Afterwards, well, I’ll have to wait a couple more years, but,” The corner of Y/n’s lips lift up before flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m thinking….the Oval Office is in need of a makeover. Don’t you think?”

Then, before he could answer, Y/n turns her head in the opposite direction as if she’s trying to find a hidden camera. Makes eye contact with you, the reader, winking before turning back to Jake where she sets off on her next adventure.

…………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris

[stories-and-chaos]

Helluva High

AU: Overlord Husk and Angel

[Little one shot inspired by @celestialalpacaron ‘s au of Husk and Angel. Valentino is a sore loser, but Husk has his spider’s back. Enjoy!

Word count 1065 Cw: cursing, emotional manipulation, trauma response (disclosure: I’ve never experienced trauma like this so I apologize if Angel’s reaction isn’t accurate.) ]

***********

Angel was frozen, stuck between fear and desire. His former boss, Valentino, was here. At Husk’s casino. Angel Dust had been working the tables for a couple months now. His looks, charisma, and reputation had him hustling patrons for all they were worth and more.

But despite that reputation (and all the salacious videos of him still being sold) he wasn’t for sale. Not for any amount of time or money. Husk was adamant on that. “You wanna sleep with someone off the clock, that’s your business,” he’d told Angel. “But do it because you want to, not because someone john is paying, got it?”

Now Val was here and Angel could barely help himself. The moth demon had grabbed his arm as he walked past. Now he was pulling the spider close, cooing sweet venomous words at the former porn star. “Angiiiiieee, I miss you baby. That mean old kitty won’t let me win you back. I need you Angel.” Val’s hand stroked up Angel’s thigh, sneaking under the slit in his gown. “I know you want me too, baby. No one can give you what you need, not like me.” One of his other hands grasped another of Angel’s arms. He hooked a finger of his fourth hand under Angel’s pearl choker, “Come on Angel, tell the kittycat to give me a shot at you. Then we can go home and I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget all this ever happened.”

Angel’s breath caught. Everything about Valentino made him want to just melt away. His voice, his cigarette smoke, the hands stroking his limbs with a hint of claws. But Angel didn’t want to go back. His eyes darted back and forth in panic. He caught a flash of red wings, black fur, and gold eyes. “Do it because you want to…”

“Fuck!” he managed to gasp as he jerked back. The string of pearls snapped at the sudden movement. The iridescent orbs shimmered in the light as they clattered on the table and floor. “No…” he said, voice wavering.

Angel stood up as straight as he could. Valentino’s rage at being denied built quickly. He moved to grab Angel’s arm again but Angel stepped back. “I…I need a break boss,” he said as loud as he could.

“Take the night off babe. You’ve been working hard last few nights,” Husk said curtly as he stepped between Angel and Val. “Thought you knew better than that ‘Tino.” He faced the other Overlord as Angel dashed to the elevator. “Am I gonna have to throw you out?”

“Fuck, just let me play for him again. What do you want a crackwhore like him for anyway?”

“You ain’t got anything worth betting Angel for.” Four members of the casino security turned up to flank their leader. “Get out ‘Tino. If my boys don’t have to drag your ass out, I won’t charge you for the pearls.”

Val spun away, muttering “fucking furry ass prick, that twink bitch, goddamn assholes.” He squeaked in agitation as he stormed out.

Shortly after Valentino’s limo was gone, Husk took the elevator to the penthouse suites. Angel’s door was cracked open. All his arms were wrapped around himself as rocked on the bed. Husk knocked on the door with the top of his cane. The spider demon jerked, eyes blown wide enough that Husk could see the pupils in even the six small ones.

“He’s gone,” the gambler said mildly. Angel took a deep shaky breath. “You did good.” At Angel’s surprised look he continued, “I told you, anyone fucks with you, they answer to me.”

After a couple more breaths, Angel managed to reply. “Thanks boss. I’ll be back down in five.”

“Nah, you’ve got the night off. Call for room service, just go easy on the booze tonight.” Husk didn’t leave right away; he saw Angel retreating back into the cage of his own arms. The catlike demon sighed and strode through the room to throw the doors to the balcony open. “C’mere.”

Angel walked up hesitantly and placed his ringed hand in Husk’s outstretched one. Husk pulled him out into the night air. He smoothly wrapped an arm around Angel’s waist and lifted the lanky demon’s legs up with the other. Angel reflexively wrapped a set of arms around the other man’s shoulders. “Damn Whiskers, you’re stronger than you look!”

Husk gave a huff. He spread his wings and flapped into the sky. “Oh shit!” Angel yelled, now with four arms clinging to Husk.

“I gotcha babe.” He got enough altitude that they could see every part of the Pentagram with ease. “How’s this for a high?” he joked, smirking at Angel.

“Fuck…it’s a helluva view.” Angel scanned the city. His eyes locked onto Valentino’s porn studio. A tiny fuschia line was just pulling up to the street in front of it.

Husk realized where Angel was looking and shifted to block the Red Light District from view. “Nah, we’ve got better things to look at. There’s a lot more in Hell than that shitbag.”

The train of Angel’s gown fluttered in the air. The cool breeze and the sparkling city below, sounds muffled by distance, helped calm him. As the tension started to ease in his frame, Husk spoke.

“Things change quick here, especially between Overlords. You know that, with how fast ‘Tino lost you. So I ain’t gonna make promises I can’t keep. But for now, you’re mine Angel Dust, and no one fucks with what’s mine.” His gold irises gleamed as his smile turned harsh. “I don’t plan on wagering you, ever. Clear?”

Something cracked in Angel, a chip in the despair. “As crystal baby.” He sighed. “Thanks…Husk.”

A few more minutes and then Husk lowered them back to the balcony. “I need to head back down. Call room service, get some rest.” He took Angel’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back. “Let me know how you’re feeling tomorrow.”

Angel ordered food, changing out of gown and jewelry for an oversized shirt while it was arriving. He’d ordered a bunch of finger foods, easy to eat as he lounged. But he was surprised to find his favorite cocktail added to the cart. A card written in Husk’s handwriting leaned against the stem, “Just one tonight.” He snorted before taking a sip. He was starting to like this kind of pampering.

[what-if-nct]

NCT eating out skills.

*I apologize in advance*

Taeil: Knows exactly what to do. Gets down to business. Will leave you more than satisfied.

Johnny: Pulls the most toe curling tongue tricks. And you can feel him smile against you every time he makes you whimper and whine.

Taeyong: Loves doing it but gets overly excited and needs a bit of direction cause he gives unnecessary attention to the lips.

Yuta: I'm not saying pussy eating champion, but he has his medals and trophies. That is his title. He is undefeated and will tongue fuck you while his fingers attend to other business.

Kun: He does exactly what needs to be done and does it well, but is a master with his fingers cause he wants to always look at you.

Doyoung: He's very unsure about his skills and technique but he shouldn't be. His technique alone is fireworks, shooting stars worthy

Ten: Not the best but not the worst, gets the job done.

Jaehyun: He licks too hard in the wrong area, needs guidance. Can be staring at it and still doesn't know where the clit is. His fingers might be the best bet.

Winwin: Will have your eyes fluttering and you'll forget your name, starts with kissing it but his tongue and fingers start working double time and will suck your clit and your fingers will lock into his hair. If Yuta has Gold in this category. Winwin easily has silver.

Jungwoo: Loves doing it so much, gets so happy but is really just licking the outer lips, his tongue might slip in but not on purpose but when he finds out he can he really goes in for it. Still overtly enthusiastic though.

Mark: He tried, he just tries his best he'll get there one day. He can find the clit but bless his heart he doesn't really know what to do.

Xiaojun: Mainly uses his fingers, will give a few licks here and there because he feels called to but he's not confident in his skills but his fingers are gold.

Hendery: Honestly he gets a little wild in there and ends up biting something it could feel good or not depending on what he's doing.

Renjun: A lot of kissing, he's very gentle and takes notes on what you seem to enjoy. Takes his time and does his best to please you.

Jeno: Gonna be honest a couple of hard licks and he says "my turn" and pulls his pants off.

Haechan: Kinda rough but in a good way, talks really dirty against it but it's muffled. Also might bite but in a good way. Will spank it if you pulled his hair when he told you to be good.

Jaemin: Also gives so many kisses down there, speaks softly, tells you how good you taste, loves trying out new things, gentle, teasing, it's an experience and a dream.

Yangyang: He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, you feel nothing and everything all at once. He enjoys doing it, maybe a little too much but Guidance isn't enough, send him to a class taught by Yuta and Jaemin.

Chenle: He doesn't have any kind of sex.

Jisung: Bless his heart he's trying his best, just guide and reassure him he's doing his best and he'll get there. But he's still better than Yangyang and Jaehyun.

[words-4u]

right person (1/3)

pairings: luca x reader, marcus x reader (platonic)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: immediately started planning a three part series on luca while watching the bear s2. that's what a tatted will poulter does to me (the bear is an incredible show btw pls watch if you don't)

warning: swearing

part 2 / part 3

"denmark?"

"yes! we are sending you and marcus to denmark for two weeks to stage at this really great restaurant. you're gonna learn to do three new desserts for us. carmy knows the head pastry chef. says he's really cool so it should be fun, right?" sydney explained.

"that does sound fun! i'm in!" you smile.

you look at marcus who was deep in thought. if you had to guess what he was thinking, his mind is probably on his mom who was currently bed ridden at a hospital.

you put a hand on marcus' shoulder. "you good with that?" you ask your co pastry chef.

he broke out of his thoughts and nods. "yeah, i-i'm great. i'd love to."

"great! cause you guys really didn't have a choice. your flights are already booked for tomorrow afternoon sooo thanks!" sydney offers two thumbs and an awkward smile before she leaves what used to be the kitchen.

"holy shit," you whisper in shock. "staging at a michelin star restaurant in a country i've always wanted to visit. could this be any better?"

"i have to go tell my mom but give me a call if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow. chester will probably take me and we can swing by your place if you want?"

"dude, yes! that'd save me a shit ton of money that i would've spent on uber."

"cool, see you," marcus grabs his bag and heads out the door.

after helping fak, riche and gary with fallen ceiling debris, you decide to leave a bit early to pack and clean your apartment before your travel.

it was noon on the dot the next day when marcus calls to check if you were ready for the airport. since you packed the night before, you had a rather peaceful morning. chester talks your ear off the whole way to the airport and you guys get there he demands to see your passports because he wants to make sure you and marcus actually had it on you.

"chester, can you do me a favour and check in on my ma when you get the time?" marcus asks.

"dude, i'm way ahead of you. gonna check on her every morning on my way to work,"

"i appreciate it."

chester looks at both you. "now, i want you take a deep breath and let the good in. you guys are gonna kill it."

you grin at marcus' friend. "thanks chester. okay we're gonna have to leave now before we miss our flight."

marcus says his farewell to his best friend and the two of you head to your gate.

the plane ride to copenhagen was smooth despite marcus' worries. you guys hop on a train to explore the city before heading to where you were staying.

"trains here are way cleaner than the ones in chicago," marcus leans over to whisper.

"waay cleaner," you agree.

the two of you exited the station and stood in awe of your view. clear blue skies. cool fresh air. colourful buildings. and the smell of hotdogs which was incredibly appealing after your long journey.

you and marcus lock eyes. "oh yeah."

marcus got a hotdog with dried onions and pickles on top while you had a plain jane moment with just ketchup.

"this is the best thing i've ever put in my mouth," you say with in between bites.

"just what i needed honestly," marcus says.

after your quick meal, the two of you continue to wander the city taking in the architecture most of all.

marcus was using the maps feature on his phone to find the place you were supposed to be staying at.

"uh i don't see any apartment buildings near," you say. "are you sure we are in the right place?"

marcus led you to a canal where some boats were docked. "i am 99.9% sure. you're staying in 286 and i'm in 287."

you glance at the boat in front of you and saw the gold numbers plaque on the side. "well, mystery solved. this is your place and i'm guessing this one is mine." you moved further down to the boat behind marcus' one.

"sick," he smiles.

"i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"night, y/n!"

you walk down a couple of steps before unlocking a door that lead to a kitchen and dining room. it was spacious and you were grateful for the many windows it had. the stairs to the left led up to the bedroom which was a lot smaller than you anticipated having only space for your bed and a small cabinet for clothes.

you flop on your bed and exhaled. you didn't realize how tired you were until your head hit the soft mattress and while everything in you wanted to knock out, you knew you had to get up and unpack because you wouldn't have time tomorrow.

one thing you were not was a morning person and yes you should have gotten used to it by now working in the restaurant industry but getting up at 4 a.m. will never feel natural. regardless, you had a twinge of excitement for your new job and excited to learn under this new chef that carmy spoke so highly of.

once you got ready for the day, you hear three soft knocks.

"morning," you say. "you ready?"

"born ready," marcus says as you lock your door and head to the restaurant.

it was only a 15 minute walk from where you were staying so the two of you arrive with time to spare.

you walk into the bright kitchen and suck in a breath. the kitchen was stunning with it's high-end equipment, gorgeous green tiling and the young hot chef moving bags of flour from one table to another.

"chef. i'm marcus brooks and this is y/n y/l/n," marcus begins. "and we're from-"

the chef looks up for a quick second. "i know. i'm luca, pastry. we start at 5 a.m. your section's at the end of the bench."

the english accent takes you by surprise. your knees could have buckled right then and there.

"yes, chef," the two of you say in unison.

now your excitement turned into nervousness. not only were you to create three star-worthy desserts for the bear, you had to learn from someone who is so extremely good looking it hurts.

marcus and you head to the back to change into your uniforms which was a basic indigo t-shirt and a green apron like luca had.

when you went back out, you immediately wash your hands and got ready for whatever luca had in store for you guys.

luca had marcus rollout croissant pastry while he led you to a table where he had prepared a dessert. your task was to place pieces of peanuts at a certain angle as part of its presentation.

you study luca as he shows you what to do. he had small black tattoos scattered up and down his arms. that alone is having an effect on you.

"here, you try," he says passing the tweezers to you.

your fingers brush as you took the small tool from him. luca didn't make eye contact but you did notice his jaw clench.

"nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in."

"yes, chef," you say.

taking one of the small nuts from the bowl, you place it on the pudding but it slipped last second.

"no. again, chef," he says in a calm yet assertive tone.

"sorry," you say and try again and it's worse which luca picks up on.

"hm, worse."

he takes the tweezers from you and picks up the piece. "don't be afraid to just stick it in there, you know," luca takes the nut and slides it in perfectly. "just be confident about it."

"don't second-guess yourself," he says finally locking eyes with you.

you nod. "yes, chef."

you took the tweezers back and third time was the charm because you placed the nut in the pudding just like he'd showed you. smiling to yourself, you put the tool down.

luca's face stays expressionless. he looks up from the dessert. "you know how to make shiso gelee?"

you absolutely do not know how to make whatever he just said but there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

"yes, chef."

"alright."

luca steps away to grab some ingredients which gives you the opportunity to whip your phone out and google the gelee. "dextrose? what the fuck is that?" you whisper to yourself.

luca came back and places a tray in front you. "recipe," he says tapping some blue index cards.

you felt your face burn. "thank you, chef."

end of part 1 omggg. not much luca x reader but it’s warming up trust me. i already have ideas for part 2 and 3 with some potential alternate endings... stay tuned

if you enjoyed, please let me know (through my bio) if you have any the bear requests, send them my way!

[chmpgneprblem]

Lucy Gray and reader singing together, please?

INVISIBLE STRING ; LUCY GRAY BAIRD

pairing: lucy gray baird x covey!reader (not related) summary: lucy gray pitches a song to you, you don’t seem to realize what it’s about until you sing it with her on stage warnings: reader being oblivious (and jealous), mentioned that reader is fem a/n: i did change a lot of the lyrics but it's to fit the plot!! word count: 1.0k join taglist!!

Lucy Gray proposed a new song to you. “It’s kind of lovey-dovey… but I think we should play it tomorrow at the Hob.” She was nervous, only looking at you for a quick second before staring at her feet the rest of the time. What could she be so nervous about? “Well play it for me!” You beamed at her and shoved her shoulder. She grabbed her guitar from beside her and started to play for you.

The melodic notes that came out of the guitar awed you as she played. Her sweet voice blended well with background noises of the guitar, it had you mesmerized.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me.

You recognized the saying from something Maude Ivory had told you once. She had brought it up while they watched a couple dance as Lucy Gray sang. “It’s this belief I read about. It’s a string tying soulmates together, it means that the universe wants you to be together. Almost like it’s written in the stars.”

As Lucy Gray sang to you, you couldn’t help but wonder who she was singing about. “It’s probably about that peacekeeper friend of hers…” You got a stab in your ribs but from what? Jealousy? Maybe. You hadn’t thought of it before but as she was nearing the end of the song, the pain got worse.

She sang the last chorus, her voice still smooth as she sang the same lyrics; this time with a key change on the guitar. She sang oohs and ahhs while she continued to play the relaxing melody. She ended the song with a nervous smile on her face.

She began to ask you shyly, “So what do you-” You cut her off, “It’s amazing Lucy Gray, we should get the others together, so we can practice it.” You told with a smile, despite the feeling of jealousy deep within you. She blushed at your praise as she muttered a quiet, “Thanks,” You left her with a smile as you went to gather the rest of the Covey.

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you.

You were jealous. What did he have that you didn’t? You loved Lucy Gray, you had loved her since you first met her in the hob years ago. You just didn’t know if she felt the same.

Just like every night, you and the Covey played at the Hob. But this night was different, they were playing a new song.

You and the rest of the Covey got onto the stage. Lucy Gray strutted up to the mic with an excited smile. She turned to you to give a nod, a way of telling you it was time to start. You passed the nod onto the rest of the Covey. Maude Ivory gave a thumbs up to you then looked over to Lucy Gray with a knowing smile. What were they planning?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Lucy Gray’s voice. “Hello everybody, It’s so great to see you!” She spoke to them with her usual charm. 

As she spoke to the crowd, you scanned around. That peacekeeper boy wasn’t here. Guess he won’t get to hear her song.

“Tonight we’re gonna start with a new one, I call it ‘invisible string’” She told the crowd, grabbing a tambourine while Tam Amber started playing the banjo. You joined in a little after he did on the guitar, Barb Azure playing her fiddle not long after you.

Black was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the local bar you used to work at to make a little money.

The lyrics sounded familiar. You looked around at the rest of the Covey to see them with grinning faces. Was this song about you? Surely not, so you just pushed it to the side as you continued to play guitar along with her.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.

Lucy Gray sang the chorus, turning to you with a smile as you harmonized together; you were doing a slightly higher pitch than her. You smiled back, as if nobody else was there but her.

Pure was the snow in the song in the bar when you had first met me.

She turned back to the crowd as she sang the second verse. It was about you. You get brought back to that day from the mention of it. 

You had walked in to do your usual bartending shift, not expecting much entertainment but were pleasantly surprised to see a band playing. The main singer, Lucy Gray, was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. She seemed to be smiling at someone in the crowd as she sang. She turned as she continued to sing and saw you standing there, in awe from her voice and beauty.

A string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar. Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. 

You looked at her, and suddenly you were that same awestruck girl from back when you were just a bartender at the Hob. She looked back at you with loving eyes, you thought your knees were going to buckle, but you stood up straighter.

As the final chorus came up, Lucy Gray put down the tambourine to start snapping her fingers to the beat as she sang with you.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me.

You changed the key on your guitar as you two started to sing the same oohs and ahhs she had sung to you just the night before. Her voice was as smooth as honey while your higher and slightly gravelly voice harmonized with hers. Your opposite tones mixed perfectly together.

Your spirits matched with your voices, made for one another. You left the Hob that night with Lucy Gray on your arm knowing that you two really were written in the stars.

[artiststarme]

Wayne deserves way more credit

Just a little snippet I came up with for an interaction between Wayne and the boys. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Wayne didn’t get paid enough for this shit. It had been a long week and an even longer shift with him pulling doubles while one of his coworkers was off on disability. He just wanted to head to bed after a nice cup of coffee when he got back home. What he didn’t want was to be roped into yet another tedious argument between his nephew and his boyfriend. He was over their ridiculous spats and their meddling in his morning coffee time. Yet, here he was. 

“Wayne, Wayne, tell Eddie you’d adopt me if he broke up with me! I’m becoming a Munson whether you like it or not, you fucker!” Steve shouted, pointing an accusing finger at his nephew. 

“I’m not threatening to break up with you. I’m just saying that I’m not some damsel in distress that you need to protect. You need to stop!” Eddie tried to reason. 

“That’s not what you were saying twenty minutes ago, asshole!” 

“Uncle Wayne, tell him that he needs to stop beating up everyone that looks at me wrong or he’s going to give himself another concussion!” Eddie shouted back. 

Wayne just sipped his coffee. He was only on cup one but this was turning out to be a three cup day. This happened more than he liked but that just meant he had a system in place. He would let the boys rant it out with one another before he ended it. 

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Mr. ‘almost eaten to death by demon bats’! If I want to kick someone’s ass for calling you a murderer, I will!” Now, Wayne couldn’t argue with him there. He wasn’t sure what the bat reference meant but if Eddie’s boy wanted to stick up for him, Wayne wasn’t going to stop him. Anyone protecting Eddie got a gold star in his book and Steve Harrington was in first place. 

“You can’t get another concussion! You need all the brain cells you have!” Eddie yelled angrily. 

“Are you calling me stupid? You know how I feel about that, Eddie. What the fuck?! Wayne, defend me!”

Wayne heaved a deep sigh before turning to Eddie. “Eddie, we don’t call people names in this household and you know that.”

“But he-”

“Steve, you need to stop picking fights because Hopper’ll kick my ass if you get another head injury on my watch. If you’re gonna be fighting, give ‘em a sucker punch so they can’t hitcha back.”

“Wayne! Don’t tell my boyfriend to pick fights over me. What the hell?” Eddie sputtered. 

“I’ll tell your boyfriend whatever I want! And he’s right, if you try to break up with him, I will adopt him. He’s getting the Munson name one way or another and if you’re not gonna do it, I will. Now get the hell outta here, I’m going to bed.”

Both boys grumbled but grabbed their things and left regardless. Eddie gave him a short hug in goodbye as he left. Wayne just sighed, another crisis averted. If they kept this up though, he was going to need way more coffee than his daily allowance.

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ teacher assistant!jimin ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

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//

teacher assistant!jimin always grades your paper first so it'll be last in the pile when he gives them out the next day. oh and let’s not forget the golden star he puts on your paper. it’s an inside joke…. kind of. from the corner of his eye, he would watch as you anxiously wait for him to call your name. alas, when he finally does; he dismisses everyone else. as everyone packs up and leaves, you happily skip to him and thank him for his notes on your draft. he smiles warmly and tells you, "you deserve it. you worked hard." you laugh. “just say my writing is your favourite.” jimin rolls his eyes but agrees. “yes, ___. your writing is my favourite.” then, just as you're about to flatter him, your best friend tugs you over and whines, "how many more A's are you gonna give ___? kinda offensive since she's more of a D cup—"

teacher assistant!jimin never really knows what your schedule is like. every day, you have something to do after his class. today, as you're rushing to leave, you take a moment to stop in front of his desk and open your bag. you take out a container filled with cookies. "i made these for you!" you begin. "i hope you're not allergic to nuts... they're white macadamia cookies. i think i saw you eating one before class the other day s-so i just thought—" he takes them. "thank you. they look good." you take a breath in and giggle. "g-good. i... uhm, i have to get going b-but yeah.. enjoy the cookies, jimin." when you leave, he smiles to himself and takes a cookie out of the baggie. he bites into it, and thinks to himself... this is the best cookie he has ever eaten.

teacher assistant!jimin saves the last few cookies for the evening. on his way home, he bumps into nam joon. "oh, you got cookies too?" nam joon beams, as he takes a baggie of cookies out of his hoodie pocket. nam joon gives jimin a toothy smile. "is it ta appreciation day or something? did ___ give you some too? she's cute, huh? i didn't know she was taking a class of yours." jimin feels his chest tighten. why did nam joon get cookies too? didn't you make these just for him? you mentioned knowing it was his favourite. white chocolate macadamia nut cookies are not nam joon's favourite. in all honesty, jimin isn't sure what is nam joon's favourite but it just can't be his favourite. because those fucking cookies aren't for him. oh. jimin is pissed. trying to keep it together, he answered nam joon; "she takes my 10AM." nam joon munches on his cookie. "that's cool. she's in my 12PM—ah, shit. is this white chocolate macadamia? isn't this your favourite? i'm more of an oatmeal chocolate chip kind of guy but this is sooo fucking good." jimin's lips curve into a half smile. so... the cookies must've really been for him—"i bet the others really like this cookie though. she has that jin guy as her professor professor and you know what all the girls here say about him—" nam joon swallows the rest of the cookie. "he likes girls with D cups."

teacher assistant!jimin would be the pettiest little shit to you the next time he sees you. he’d ignore you as you walked in and said good morning to him. then, every time you raised your hand, he’d pick someone who didn’t even have their hand raised. at all costs, he was avoiding eye contact with you. like what??? rude…. also, he gave you your paper FIRST. there wasn’t even any written feedback. no. gold. star. yet, you have to give him some credit. at least his bitter feelings towards you didn’t effect your—a D????? he gave you a D????? this is WRONG. this is unacceptable. as the class is dismissed, you gather your things to talk to him. jus as you approach him, he swings his bag over his bag and bumps into you. “oh shit, sorry—“ “i got a D.” “yeah… that sucks.” with a frown, you confront him. “you’ve never given me a D.” “it was nothing personal, ms. ___… your writing lacked. it wasn’t good. anyways, i gotta get going. i’ll see you next class. if you really want, take it up with prof. he takes re-submissions for one assignment per student.” as he moves past you, under your breath you huff; “nothing personal? bullshit.”

teacher assistant!jimin doesn’t know what to do when you yell his name in the middle of campus. at first, he wants to believe it’s all his head. so, he continues to walk away. but then… everyone starts to turn their heads and look at him… why? because of you. you’re storming to him with no thoughts—just a tired heart. “jimin!” you yell with the kind of tone that has everyone intimidated. finally, he stops. he turns around and stands still as you approach him. you huff, “did i do something?” he tilts his head at you. “what?” you roll your eyes at him, shoving your paper to his chest. “d stands for did i do something.” jimin takes your paper and shrugs. “ms. ___, like i said… take it up with prof. i’m clocked out—“ “bullshit.” “ms.___—“ “oh my god, jimin! you know my name. you have my number—which is a waste since i’m still waiting for you to text me—and you always look at me in class like you could—“ jimin grabs your wrists and drags you to a tree nearby. at least here, people would have to squint to watch what happens next. “let go—“ you shake his grip off of you. he glares at you in return. “if you have a problem with me, figure it out. drop out of the class, talk to the prof or—“ “we’re almost finished the sem, why the hell would i drop this class—“ jimin hates this. he feels like he could hate you. “i don’t have time to deal with you acting like a child—“ in disbelief, you poke his chest. “like a child? oh come on! i spend all my class time looking at you with heart eyes and my free time baking you cookies. my writing is your favourite. there’s no way it deserved a D. also, i’ve been waiting for like… EVER. waiting for your text—now, on a random wednesday morning—you think i’m a child? now? really? are you mad at me or something—“ he gulps. “yes.” your eyes widen. “yes?” jimin sighs, letting himself sound ridiculous, “yes. i’m mad at you. you do all that shit and have these cute conversations with me—and then do this whole cookie gesture… but it wasn’t for me.” “what are you talking about?” “you made cookies for all your ta’s.” you hold back your smile. “that’s it? you gave me a D because you were jealous? over cookies?” jimin hisses and just as he’s about to turn and walk away from you, you run up in front of him. “hey, hey, hey,” you giggle. “i didn’t lie. i made those cookies for you. the other girls i have class with made their own batch and gave them out to their ta’s. is this about nam joon? i only gave him cookies because there were the uglier ones and i wanted to suck up to him… he’s your friend. i want your friends to like me.” jimin raises a brow. “what about jin? isn’t he your favourite?” you shrug. “you’re my favourite.” jimin chuckles, not believing your truth. trying to convince him, you plead with your eyes. “and what’s this all about? like, what about him? he gave me the recipe. he told me your favourite cookie. said we’d be cute together so he wanted to help me out. god, are you actually this jealous? is it bad that i’m really into it?” jimin’s heart skips a beat. ”s-so… you have a crush on me or something?” you throw your head back, laughing at his cuteness. wrapping your arms around him, you tiptop and kiss his cheek. “depends. can you reconsider my D while i consider yours?”