#best thing about pal world

[heatobrienswife]

.

let me show you my pals before i drag my arse to bed lodhvldifh

ngl most of them matching wasn't intentional kfvhfkdfh n ye noct is named after cosmics oc!

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: nightmares / trauma / ]

Post-invasion, Mikey sneaks into Leo’s room and when asked by Leo what the problem was, Mikey just smiles and says since he’s awake and knew Leo would be too, he didn’t want either of them alone. Leo laughs and lets Mikey stick around, both of them clumped together on Leo’s bed, watching grainy compilations of old Lou Jitsu commercials on Leo’s phone.

Technically, Mikey didn’t lie. He just didn’t explain everything that led him to Leo’s room. He didn’t explain the nightmare of his arms burning up too bright, too fast, destroyed before Raph and Donnie have a chance to help. He didn’t explain how he woke up with a wail caught in his throat, phantom pain in his arms and chest alike chasing away any semblance of exhaustion. He didn’t explain how his mind made sure he knew, vividly, that if one thing went wrong with his portal, then he would have never seen Leo again.

He didn’t explain, and he didn’t have to. Leo knows his brothers better than he knows himself, and Mikey has always been easy to read. So it’s no trouble to let Mikey know that he’s still with them, that Leo is here and alive with everyone else. And when Mikey finally regains his exhaustion and falls asleep leaning against Leo, Leo simply maneuvers him into a more comfortable position and stays by his side.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t go to sleep - not that he could, anyway. He just mindlessly scrolls on his phone, the soft snores of his little brother filling the room. He stays in place, awake, because he wants to be sure that when Mikey wakes up again it’s to the immediate sight that Leo is alive and well and home.

And, if Leo’s bring honest, that’s a reminder not just for Mikey’s sake.

[deus-ex-mona]

such is the tale of a ✨chronically online hypocrite✨

[fooltofancy]

important to understand that my approach to oc design and characterization depends explicitly on how i'm playing that specific game, like. a thing you should know about ilya is that he is the kind of person who will dive into the middle of a large pull ahead of the tank and pop all of his mitigation while screaming because i get distracted and do that. constantly.

... it's the siren's call of the big aoe damage noises, ok.

[tamagotchikgs]

been trying to figure out just how i am going to explain how wildly my brain has been altered since the last time i saw my therapist && it make me realize all of this has happened in 1 month,,,,,,,,,,, it feels like . eons. eternity . in the best way possible

[chiropteracupola]

Spring's a girl from the streets at night...

[nedlittle]

[id in alt text]

drugstore perfume - gerard way (2014) / little women (2019) dir. greta gerwig

[autisticcassandracain]

Reading Blue Beetle: Graduation Day and I have to ask. Since when does Jaime listen to the Justice League.

[t4tpumpkinduo]

and another thing. not to be guy who hates ctntduo but it makes insane crazy that fr ppl who take the utah ending as smthing good and not smthing absolutely horrific. they looveeee to imagine that cq just misses this dude sooooo much he loves him sooooo bad he'll cross state lines to fuck him bcs that's all he's good for. ok. like #1 cclingy defender wouldn't hunt him through the woods like an animal.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Souper

[at unicorn fuck club] JRR Tolkien: tonight we've got a special story from everyone's favorite fantasy writer GRR Martin: CS Lewis: Peter S Beagle: Hans Christian Andersen: L Frank Baum: Tolkien: whoops shouldn't have said that ha ha Tolkien: i mean, you're all winners in my book

Tolkien: but when i say everyone's favorite fantasy writer Tolkien: i mean terry practchett GRR Martin: oh yeah that's fair CS Lewis: yeah fair Peter S Beagle: fair Hans Christian Andersen: yes yes of course L Frank Baum: that's fair

Terry Pratchett: hello unicorn fuck club today i've got a story about a wizard who is - get this - actually very bad at his job Tolkien: oh ho ho! terry my boy, you've done it again! Pratchett: there's also girl dwarves Tolkien: [suddenly stone-faced] i hate this

Pratchett: but first Pratchett: all this story telling is hungry work! Pratchett: do you happen to have anything to eat around here? Tolkien: are you talking about... Tolkien: having Tolkien: a Tolkien: feast????? Brian Jacques: [squeaking incomprehensibly in rising excitement]

Tolkien: why, terry, my boy, what an idea! Tolkien: instead of merely DESCRIBING a feast, we'll have one! huzzah! Martin: huzzah! Lewis: huzzah! Jacques: [squeaking] i use a mercury head dime as a serving platter!

Pratchett: no no nothing so fancy as that Tolkien: eh? Pratchett: i was more thinking along the lines of Pratchett: soup Tolkien: soup? Pratchett: yeah just a big bowl of heart soup right about now would just be the best thing Pratchett: oo i just love the sound of it!

Pratchett: think about it: no work... no worries... no failures... no waste... when you serve maggi homestyle soups, the finest money can buy yet priced reasonably within your budget Tolkien: interesting! tell us more Pratchett: maggi soup! es ist echt ausgezeichnet!

Pratchett: how often have you had this problem Pratchett: say, you're on a budget but you have to feed your hungry hungry boys Tolkien: oh man i have been there! Tolkien: more times than i can count!

Tolkien: but terry Tolkien: i need something substantial and nourishing for my hungry boys. can maggi soup satisfy? Pratchett: ahh jirt my friend, maggi soup does more than satisfy! Pratchett: as the good people at maggi say, "kartoffelsalat volkswagen fahrvergnugen lebensraum!!"

Tolkien: What's that sizzling sound I hear? Pratchett: Get up! It's soup and eggs, my dear! Martin: What can I cook without much fuss? Pratchett: maggi soup would tickle all of us! Lewis: What's a lunch that's good and quick? Pratchett: Hot Maggi soup mix does the trick!

Pratchett: mm mmm! i tell you, nothing's as good as a rich bowl of maggi soup! buy some today! eat it with someone you love! Neil Gaiman: something's not right here

Gaiman: of course the power of imagination is infinite, friends Gaiman: but in all the worlds in all the multiverses of possibility, i cannot imagine one in which terry pratchett shills for soup Pratchett: [sweats] nein, nein, ich bin der echte terry pratchett!

Gaiman: if you are in fact, the real terry pratchett Gaiman: and not an imposter Gaiman: like the imposter sandman hector hall in The Sandman, vol. 2: The Doll's House Gaiman: then you won't have any trouble telling a joke Pratchett: [sweats] ein witz? du magst ein witz?

Pratchett: [sweats] i mean ha ha of course i can tell a joke Pratchett: i am the real terry pratchett after all Pratchett: [sweating intensifies] and you all know me, i'm a real spaßvogel Pratchett: Pratchett: a-are you sure you wouldn't all rather just have some soup?

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Gala Buddies

Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.

So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.

Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.

Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.

At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.

Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.

Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.

“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.

Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.

“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”

“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”

“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.

The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”

Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”

Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”

“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.

“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”

Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.

“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”

“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”

“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”

Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”

Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.

Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.

The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.

“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.

Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”

And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.

“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.

“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”

“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”

[pierregazly]

the bookworm ꨄ george russell smau

george russell x bookworm/writer!reader

the one where george couldn't be prouder to call you his, even if it seems like the whole world hates you just for doing what you love... even if they don't know the whole truth.

georgerussell63

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, f1wags, and others

georgerussell63 enjoyed the time off! would never complain about spending time with my best friend, time to get back into things 💪🏎

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username gotta go check off 'george posts shirtless pics during off szn' on my bingo card

username gotta go check off 'yn cares more about her own hobby than her bf' on my bingo card

username girl you got issues with books? can't read?

alex_albon bad hair day? or are hats your new thing

yourusername tried to convince him to go with the bucket hat, but he claims 'all the kids are wearing caps babe'

username girlypop can't even enjoy a holiday with george without being focused on anything other than him??

username he's literally NECKING her in one of the photos?????? do you want her to koala hold him everywhere???

username future wdc russell george and his future writer wife frfr

username 1/2 of these things are probably true and we both know it's not the second lol

yourusername spoiling me always, my handsome handsome man 💗

georgerussell63 wouldn't have spent the last few weeks with anyone else (even if you kick me in your sleep nightly)

username do you think yourusername pictures george as the main male character in any of the books she reads???

username if i can picture him in fanfiction, im sure she pictures him in everything else???

gisèlerosebooks

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, username, and others

gisèlerosebooks first time being on any device since my trip with my favourite person ended. the love on collided continues to amaze me, and i'm so extremely honoured to continuously receive so much love from not only the reading community, but many of the formula 1 faithful as well. this is NOT the end of the journey, either. for now, let the formula 1 season begin... and maybe find me at a race or two? 🤭

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gisèlerosebooks oh and to my incredible, amazing, handsome boyfriend, thank you so much for always proofreading my formula 1 terminology and understanding. i promise i'll give you real credit one day.

username god adrien is so charles leclerc coded, he's all i could think about this entire book

lilymhe 🏎🫶🏻

username the fact i literally could've cared less about the lil zoom zoom cars before the dirty air series dropped and now im eager for the new season.... gisèle baby why u do this to me

username miss girl???? how are we supposed to find you at any races when we don't even know what you look like!!!

username jealous of gisèle's bf is!!! his gf is too talented for the world

username not throttled being the book to get me back into reading and now i'm blessed wth a second book??? mother is mothering real hard

username this is the type of book series i'd totally read at the track and imagine an f1 driver as my husband sry

username 10/10 book!!! dying!!!

yourusername has posted a story

liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe, bestfrienduser, and others

replies

georgerussell63 wow we're so lucious and hot

yourusername luscious sweetie

georgerussell63 god i love having a hot, smart, book-writer gf. write a book about me and use that word

yourusername they're all already about you??? (handsome)

username you showed up to a race?????? shocking

gisèlerosebooks has posted a story

liked by georgerussell63, username, username, and others

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username omg!!!! where are you!!! dying to meet you omfg

username YOU WERE SERIOUS

georgerussell63 i saw u slip up and post this on the og account loser

georgerussell63 can i have my scooter back ya nerd

gisèlerosebooks no sorry </3 i own it now

georgerussell63 no creds in the books and now my scooter stolen???? you hate the british

gisèlerosebooks my pseudonym is an ODE to you PAL

georgerussell63

tagged yourusername and gisèlerosebooks

liked by yourusername, gisèlerosebooks, lilymhe, and others

georgerussell63 a shame that this weekend didn't go the way we all wanted it to go, i know for a fact we'll be coming out on top soon! i also know yourusername or as most of you seem to prefer (for no valid reason at all) gisèlerosebooks is pretty deep in finishing book 3 and apparently this weekend was super influential??? go me (give me book creds)

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yourusername george!!! lmao!!!

yourusername a heads up next time??? maybe?!?

username 'for no valid reason at all' so SASSY oh boy

username everyone on twitter the other day calling yourusername a freeloader is soooo not doing well rn

lilymhe the secret's out!!!! (shocked, baffled, wild, can i get my books signed now)

username (G)isèle (R)ose... (G)eorge (R)ussell... dare i say... deliberately done

yourusername 🤭

username amazing race this weekend!!! can't wait to see you on top

username no one talking about book 3 almost being done??? or the fact george proofreads all her writing??? so cute

charles_leclerc so collided... is not about me?

georgerussell63 get lost mate

yourusername has posted a story

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georgerussell63 you think im a gentleman??? love you

yourusername the BIGGEST gentleman, i love you

username god this is so cute

georgerussell63

tagged yourusername and gisèlerosebooks

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, username and others

georgerussell63 that's my little freeloading, best-selling author and future wife!

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username someone come get this chronically online man rn!!

yourusername can i be your freeloader forever??? spending my own money sucks

georgerussell63 my money's your money always my little freeloader

alex_albon emphasis on the best-selling author and future wife part

georgerussell63 you're right mate

username re-reading dirty air and knowing fully the entire book series is about george makes me so happy omg

username proud to admit i loved yourusername before AND after she was revealed as everyone's fav author (and it's not just a hobby losers)

username george doesn't get book creds until he wins a race again :)

yourusername i love this stipulation!!! georgerussell63 thoughts?

georgerussell63 you hate the british.

i had SO much fun writing this!!! i picked george after going down a george rabbit hole again (of course), so i hope you all love it!! thanks for all the love always.

i'm not necessarily taking requests right now, but if you have suggestions please feel free to send them my way.

[astonmartinii]

astonmartinii’s masterlist

if you would like to support me or send me a coffee, please go here ko-fi.com/astonmartini !!

max verstappen 

teacher’s pet 

babysitter duty 

play date 

pen pals 

study bug 

college 

teddy bear 

into the arms of another part two part three part four 

worlds biggest fan part two 

behind the camera 

we don’t play about halloween 

passion for fashion

bite the hand

charles leclerc 

big reputation | part two

home ties

all is fair in love and war 

birthday wishes  

the student life part one / part two 

love languages

motormouth 

cat mom 

author 

big girls do(n’t) cry 

tight knit 

friendship bracelets 

you and me got a whole lotta history 

angel baby, devil child 

undercover verstappen

nonsense... or is it? | a very nonsense christmas

oscar piastri 

rookie love

a spoonful of sugar

cherry lip balm 

i am the rockstar, girlfriend 

witchy business 

peas in a pod

southern charm 

kiss it better

nothing good ever happens at the work christmas party

daniel ricciardo 

ric number three 

cooking up a storm 

rockstar 

wedding bells 

big apple lovin’ 

ultimate wing man 

i don’t wanna be funny anymore 

lewis hamilton 

raw chemistry 

doggy day care 

get the bag 

top secret 

signed up for life 

spice up your life

sebastian vettel 

racing royalty 

family ties 

pierre gasly 

we never go out of style 

final(ly) girl 

mick schumacher 

summer breaking 

opposites attract 

lando norris 

lonely hearts club 

suck up 

team bonding 

best friends 4 ever

frost bitten 

dj got us falling in love 

big time rush 

loving on a sunday

head in the clouds

reluctant cupid

bad blood (lando's version)

ballad of lovebirds and puppy dogs

just add water

george russell 

george russell’s the type of guy 

first impressions matter

esteban ocon 

always the ones you least expect 

carlos sainz 

journalist 

old money 

are you going to be my girl?

toto wolff 

falling for you 

alex albon 

nine lives 

careful what you wish for

yuki tsunoda

guess who?

logan sargeant

pick of the crop

lance stroll

brother's best friend

mamma mia 

mamma mia  

no more ace to play 

honey, honey

age of no regret 

a wonderful thing 

a very mamma mia christmas

if you need me, let me know, gonna be around

guilty as sin masterlist

[idiopath-fic-smile]

this one goes out to all my Singin' in the Rain ot3 truthers—

Cosmo Brown had always known it would end like this.

Cosmo was a lot of things—in fact, you could argue he was too many—but he wasn’t dumb.

From the early years, when Cosmo and Don were just kids playing for pennies in pool halls, to their stint dodging rotten vegetables on Vaudeville stages across the very backwaters of America’s backwaters, to their first real breath of success in Hollywood (and then the second and the third and the fourth), Cosmo would catch a glimpse of his handsome, charismatic friend from the corner of his eye—a flash of dark hair, that perfect tooth powder ad smile—and know that for all Don’s protestations, someday the guy was gonna meet a wonderful girl and get married, settle down, and very gently slip off to the far edge of Cosmo’s life.

So yes, Cosmo had seen Kathy Selden coming. Not the details, not her sense of humor or her musical little laugh or the madcap way she really threw herself into dancing with them around Don’s place at 1:30 in the morning—and okay, certainly not the part at the beginning where she had jumped out of a cake at a party, but he thought a fella could be excused for not correctly divining that. 

The general outline of the thing, though, how Don’s eyes followed her around a room...he had been preparing for Don to propose to Kathy ever since she’d tried to throw a pie at Don’s face. And when the happy day came, Cosmo had been ready with his best man suit, his best man speech, a slightly updated version of “Here Comes the Bride” that’d had Don and Kathy laughing all the way down the aisle.

Don and Kathy would buy a house together. They would have a swimming pool and a dog and then inevitably, a small parade of adorable little snot-nosed kids who would call him Uncle Cosmo, and they would spend less and less time with him, not on purpose but busy with the rest of their lives, and ultimately Cosmo would learn to make his peace with it because he’d have no other choice and he would have to try to move on and not live too much in his memories. He could picture it so clearly, he figured if the songwriting gig with Monumental didn’t pan out, he could always return to the backwater circuit with a new act: The Amazing Cosmo of the Cosmos—ladies and gentlemen, he sees the future, he reads the stars, he silently pines for his best married pal and all the while tap dancing!

Don and Kathy inviting him along on their honeymoon, though—that part was a surprise.

“What?” said Cosmo, hands frozen over the piano keys. He’d been busy with a brand-new assignment; on the heels of The Dancing Cavalier, offers were pouring in and he’d taken the first one scoring a movie that didn’t star anyone he was secretly in love with.

Don had looked a little wounded when Cosmo broke the news last week, but a guy had to start making his own way in the world. Besides, orchestrating layers of strings to swell as the camera zoomed in on Don and Kathy blissfully locking lips in radiant monochrome, oblivious to the rest of the world—well, Cosmo knew that dance, he had mastered the footwork, and he didn’t especially feel like a reprise.

It wasn’t lost on him that Kathy had dropped by his rehearsal space alone today. Of course, he had no idea what this meant—he didn’t think it was about the new job; Don didn’t tend to stay sore at him for that long—but Kathy was acting perfectly natural, and so probably the smart thing was to follow her lead.

“It’s a two-week transatlantic cruise,” she said now, gracefully dropping beside him on the piano bench. “We thought it would be nice to see Europe, take in the sights, get away from all the cameras.”

“Ah yes, such a wallflower, our dear Don,” said Cosmo solemnly. “Besieged on all sides by the love of his public, a tragedy of our times, up there with Lear! Hamlet! Caesar! The one with all the Greeks and the giant wooden horse, nay, nay, neigh.” He played a tragic little trill, for effect. Kathy huffed a laugh and smacked his arm.

“You know that’s not it,” she said. “Being watched all the time—we can’t always do what we want. It’s rotten.”

Tell me about it, thought Cosmo.

He was sort of seeing a fight choreographer named Archibald, who came from old money and was a “the third” or a “the fifth” but nice enough Cosmo might even forgive him for that. Archibald was trim and athletic, with dark brown hair that was just starting to go gray at the temples and enough discretion that Cosmo didn’t think they’d get caught. The only problem was that he didn’t laugh at Cosmo’s jokes, seemed to just tolerate them.

“What do you two even talk about, then?” Don had asked, when Cosmo had let this slip over drinks the same night he’d explained about the new movie project. (Cosmo had been trying to spend less time with Don and Kathy since the wedding but Don had said, “C’mon, pal, we miss you” and Kathy had laid one hand on his arm and peered up at him with her big green eyes and Cosmo was only one man.)

Cosmo had frowned, because Don hated Archibald, for reasons that were frankly mysterious. Then he’d looked up and grinned a grin he didn’t exactly feel and said,

“Tell you when you’re older,” and then Don had choked on his dry Martini even though Cosmo knew Don knew about Cosmo’s tendencies. It wasn’t something they discussed, and Cosmo had never properly gone with a guy before, but whenever a big-shot producer started complaining about all the degenerate queers in showbiz, Don always sharply steered the conversation someplace else. It was all very gallant and noble and knightly, and someday Don would play King Arthur and Kathy his lady Guinevere—

“Honestly, sometimes it feels as if we’re living in a fishbowl,” said Kathy now, in the present.

“And so your solution is to relocate,” said Cosmo, “to the biggest fishbowl on this here magnificent earth. The mighty ocean!” He struck up a sea shanty. “Oh blow the man down, blow the man down / way ay, blow the man down…”

Not everyone appreciated his musical flights of fancy, but when Cosmo turned, she was leaning with her elbow on the side arm of the piano, watching him with her chin on her hand and laughing. 

“Just for two weeks,” she said. “So, are you coming?”

“With you two,” said Cosmo, just so there could be no misunderstandings. “On your one and only honeymoon.”

“Yes,” said Kathy.

“As what, your first mate?”

“Sure.” She grinned and threw him a quick salute. Cosmo was almost never attracted to women but in this case, he understood the appeal.

He swallowed. “You are aware of that ancient saying, ‘Two’s company and three’s a fast track to divorce court’?”

“You’re hardly a threat to our marriage, Cosmo,” she said, and he agreed, of course, in both directions, even, but it still stung to hear her say it out loud. For want of anything better to do, he gasped, clutched a hand to his chest and reeled backwards so hard, he threw himself off the piano bench, landing in a somersault on the floor.

Kathy spun around fluidly on the bench to face him, pleated skirt whirling a little, heels of her shoes clicking together. 

“Oh, I said that badly,” she said. “I only mean that it’s more fun when you’re around. We have a better time, Don and me both. Remember the night we decided to make Dueling Cavalier a musical?”

“Do I remember the best night of my life?” Cosmo peered up at her from the hardwood. “Why yes, madam, now that you mention it, I believe it might ring a bell or two.”

“The best—” She frowned for a moment, and he remembered then that as a newly married woman, a newly married woman to Don Lockwood, no less, she’d no doubt experienced any number of evenings that blew that one out of the water.

Even besides that, it felt awfully revealing all of a sudden. Cosmo threw an arm over his eyes. He felt naked. He wished he was naked, because that might at least distract from whatever his face was doing.

“So it beats your time with Archibald, then?” said Kathy shrewdly.

Cosmo uncovered his eyes. He forgot, sometimes, that new as Kathy was to the moving pictures business, she was still a city girl, with a city girl’s worldliness. Also, Don had probably told her; that seemed like the kind of second-hand secrets married people shared with each other. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Hardly a topic for mixed company,” he said.

There was a pause.

“So yes,” she said and smiled with a smugness that would’ve been unbecoming were she not as cute as a button.

“What do you and Don have against the poor man anyway?” he groused. “He’s never done so much as sneezed in your direction, and if he did, I’m sure he’d use a handkerchief.”

“For one thing, we know you could do better,” said Kathy, folding her arms.

Cosmo elbowed his way back to sitting, brushing himself off with dignity. “Well, better’s not exactly knocking on my door right now.”

“This town doesn’t have an ounce of sense.” She reached down to offer him a hand up, pulling Cosmo to his feet; she was stronger than she looked. “Listen, two weeks away, it’ll be good for you.”

“What about you two?” Cosmo protested as he reclaimed his spot on the bench, Kathy sliding to make room.

“What about us?” said Kathy with wide eyes.

“Two newlyweds might want some alone time?” he offered weakly.

Kathy shrugged. “I told you, there won’t be reporters or cameras. It’ll be plenty private.”

“What about your matrimonial needs?”

“Which needs?”

His eyes narrowed; she was a terrific actress but suddenly he wasn’t sure he was buying it. Kathy wasn’t dumb either.

“You have to know what I mean. Don’t make me play Cole Porter at you,” said Cosmo. She hesitated, and Cosmo began to pluck out a melody: “Birds do it, bees do it / even educated fleas do it…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Let’s do it,” sang Kathy, finishing the stanza in her lovely alto, “let’s fall in love.”

Cosmo stopped playing.

“I do know,” she said simply, “of course I do, and we’re not worried about it, alright? Listen, do you want to go?”

Cosmo, who had been carefully not asking himself that question, stared down at the piano keys. Did he want to go? He thought back to that night at Don’s, the three of them giddy with excitement and inspiration and sleep deprivation, running through the house, clowning around and dancing with no audience except each other—he hadn’t felt like a hanger-on then, like a third wheel or an extra limb or a chaperone. He’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, one note of a perfect chord.

Still.

“I can’t swim,” he said.

“They’ll have lifejackets,” said Kathy.

“I’ll have to work.”

“We’ll bring a piano.”

“All my houseplants will die,” said Cosmo.

“All your houseplants are fake,” she said. This was true, although he wasn’t sure how she knew since she’d never been to his house. She sighed. “Remember the night of that first screening, when you were about to expose Lina and instead of explaining what was happening, Don told me I had to sing, that I didn’t have a choice?”

He winced, thinking of Kathy’s heartbroken, tear-stained face before they’d pulled up the curtain and revealed who was really singing when Lina moved her lips.

“Yes, and I feel just awful about it.”

“Well, Don doesn’t,” said Kathy. “Because he knew it would take too long to convince me to do something that mean to her.”

“Mean?” Cosmo echoed. “She tried to trap you in a lifelong contract and steal your voice. A common sea witch wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“But there wasn’t time,” she pressed. “And anyway, he knew how it would end.”

“What’s your point?”

“We already bought your tickets,” said Kathy.

Cosmo gaped at her.

“We’ve cleared the trip with everyone at Monumental and anyway, like I said, we’ll have a piano on the boat.”

Distantly, he was aware his mouth was still hanging open. Kathy reached over with one light finger under his chin and gently closed it. 

“That’s better,” she said, folding her hands daintily in her lap. It was around this time she seemed to realize it wasn’t some routine, that Cosmo really was well and truly stunned. “Of course, nobody is going to force you to go with us if you truly don’t want to,” she said into the silence.

“These tickets,” he said at last, “are they refundable?”

“Gosh,” said Kathy easily, “I can’t imagine they are, no.”

The thing was, none of them were hurting for money or work anymore, so the fact that Don and Kathy might be out even a few hundred dollars didn’t catch at him the way it might’ve some years earlier. No, the thought that really seized his imagination was the mental image of Don and Kathy planning this together, Don and Kathy discussing the matter with each other, maybe over breakfast—toast and coffee in their dressing gowns, so sure it was the right thing to do that they’d decided to just go ahead and make preparations: oh and a ticket for Cosmo, of course.

He could do it, he realized. He could go. He wanted to go. It was foolish, but Cosmo was an entertainer; he’d been doing foolish things in front of a roomful of witnesses since he was in shortpants.

“I’ll pack tonight,” he said.

“Perfect!” Kathy hopped off the bench and straightened out her dress. “And bring something nice to wear at dinner for a night or two; it doesn’t need to be black-tie formal, a good suit will do.”

He nodded. “I shall leave the top hat and monocle at home. Two weeks, you say?”

“Yes, and another half-day on either side flying to the harbor and back.” She reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “The itinerary,” she said. “Don and I are so glad you’ll be coming.”

“Uh-huh,” said Cosmo. “Say, where is that fella, anyway? What’s the big idea, can’t even stick around to ask his best pal to his own honeymoon?”

“He’s planning the trip,” said Kathy brightly. “Last-minute details. Anyway, he thought you and I should have a chat, one on one. He thought it might help.”

He blinked. “Help what?”

“Help us,” she said.

It was all starting to feel like a farce, like one of those old Vaudeville acts with a lot of fast talking.

“Did it?” he asked.

“I think so,” said Kathy warmly. She turned and began to walk towards the door. “See you at the airport tomorrow. Six AM sharp.”

“Six AM,” he said, and then, foolishly, “You know, I can see why he likes you.”

Kathy dimpled. “Oh, likewise!” She tossed him another smile and then she was heading out of sight down the hallway, shoes clacking rhythmically on the tile.

“Well,” said Cosmo to no one. He felt pole-axed, he decided. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt pole-axed in his life before, but there was no other word for it.

He played a chord, then another chord, then a few more.

“Pole-axed,” he sang, “out of whack, when you are near there’s only one drawback: I can’t be clever, no I lack the knack, Darling, I’m pole-axed, out of whack around you!”

It wasn’t exactly Cole Porter, but he’d take it, he thought, reaching for his pen. There was still an hour or two left before he’d need to race traffic home and dig out his suitcase. Apparently, he had early morning plans.

(ETA: if you didn't see, there is now a second part here!)

(ETA THE SECOND: the whole finished thing is now here!

[mioons]

“i don’t think i could stand to be — where you don’t see me”

pairing. hyung line x fem. reader

genre. fluff, est. relationship wc. 658 warnings. skinship + jealous enha + not proofread (don’t we love it)

— where they think not being your centre of attention is the worst feeling ever. so he goes to fix that. extra: i feel alpha after i write about jealous guys 🐺

LEE HEESEUNG would be annoyed to say the least. he wouldn’t hide the fact he was annoyed either. the moment he saw some guy trying to get all over you, he hurriedly rushed to take his spot right beside you, snaking an arm around your waist, squeezing it.

“hey baby, who’s this guy you’re talking to?” he asked, looking at the guy with a death glare though his tone sounded so friendly.

“oh nothing, he just wanted my number cause we’re in the same class,” you replied, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“you still need her number pal?” heeseung would ask. the guy immediately shook his head and ran off in a fury, “good thing he knows his place hm?”

SIM JAEYUN would be trying his utmost best to steer your attention away from some unknown guy who didn’t even deserve an ounce of your attention. kissing your cheek while you were talking to the guy, mumbling sweet nothings into your ear; making you all flustered you couldn’t even hold a proper sentence. making sure that guy knew that you already had someone. aka him.

“you smell so sweet baby, like that rose i gotcha the other day,” he would murmur against your neck, his eyes glaring at the guy who was trying to hit you up.

immediately, the guy suddenly said he “had plans” and rushed off, leaving him alone with you.

“why’d you do that?” you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, running your fingers through his locks.

“just doing what a boyfriend should do.”

PARK JONGSEONG hates it. he hates seeing another guy talk to you. that thought alone made him sick to his stomach. if he had a choice he’d go right up to the guy and give him a bruise; a warning.

he’s stand behind you like a guard dog protecting its owner— a bodyguard protecting his principal. his hand never leaves your waist, gripping it firmly to show who you were with but not too hard to hurt you. no he could never hurt an angel such as yourself.

you couldn’t see jay’s expression but it was one of annoyance and vex. can’t this guy just go away so jay could have you all to himself?

if knives could shoot out of eyes the guy would be dead by now. seeing how jay was so intimidatingly staring at the guy, he scurried away and left.

“why’d he leave so suddenly?” you ask as you tilted your head upwards to look at your boyfriend.

“mm not sure baby, you’re too cute for anyone to resist.”

PARK SUNGHOON would be the most petty guy in the world. the moment he saw another guy getting close to you, his blood boiled. why are you talking to another guy when you have him? the park sunghoon?

the moment you go up to him, he rolls his eyes at you and scoffs, his arms folding themselves in front of his chest.

“back from talking to your other boyfriend i see?” he remarks and turns his head to the right, looking away from you. you tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you try to get him to face you, “hoon, was it about that guy i was just talking to?”

he pauses for a moment before nodding his head and turning his head to face you, his arms unfolding themselves and going to cup your cheeks, “am i not enough for you pretty girl?”

you pout and rush forward to hide away your reddening face into his chest, the cool leather fabric rubbing against your skin—making you feel comforted since it belonged to your boyfriend.

“you know i’d never leave you for another, in fact i think you’ll be the one to leave me for someone else,” you chuckled before pulling your face away and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

and to sunghoon that was the only reassurance he needed.

luvlyhee 2024

[aikaterini-drag]

Movie Night

Pairing: King Loki x Fem Wife Reader

Summary: Loki and you spend time in your apartment in New York. You want to watch a move but Loki has other ideas.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, explicit sexual content, oral(fem receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, just shameless smut pals.

It was a well known fact that your husband wasn’t fond of Earth and its occupants. But since you were from Earth, Loki had no choice but to take you there whenever you desired.

Yes, Loki was your husband. Striking and shocking as it was, the infamous yet powerful Norse God was yours.

At first you were so afraid of him. The two of you had met during his chaotic time in New York, amidst aliens and destruction. Your meeting was wild and crazy, and Loki saw you as his enemy. You worked for Stark Industries and tried to stop Loki from destroying the world with the Avengers. Your attempt was pretty pathetic but you had to give it a shot. You couldn't just let someone trash your home without at least trying to intervene.

In the chaos of battle, you got hit by a bullet in the shoulder. Loki could have easily left you, but he didn’t. He took you to Asgard and treated your injuries with their advanced magic and healing concoctions. In a matter of days you were completely healed. All thanks to him. He’d saved you, and that’s when you started seeing parts of him that no one else could.

Loki was a never-ending puzzle, with so many tiny pieces that it seemed impossible to ever see the whole picture. But if there was one thing you had learned about him was his deep craving for affection and care. Beneath the stoic, cold exterior of this God, hid a child seeking love.

You and Loki dated for a year before he insisted on getting married. He was pretty adamant about it, especially after clearing his name and claiming his rightful spot on the throne of Asgard. As the first son, it was his duty, and Thor was more than happy to be the captain of the Asgardian soldiers and play peacemaker with Earth.

So now, you were Queen too. You had responsibilities and daily tasks that sometimes gave you headaches. You were never lonely and Loki always took care of you. But your husband was King, born and bred for the role, when you were just a human who had only ever imagined living in a tiny New York apartment, not glittering kingdoms and palaces.

When you asked Loki for a vacation back home, he agreed. He took you to New York, where you stayed in your old apartment. Loki had bought and completely renovated it. Now, it was an adorable small place with comfy and elegant furniture, a perfect escape from your royal duties.

That night, you chose to stay in and watch a movie while munching on snacks until you were full.

No duties, no attendants or royal meetings.

Just you and your husband.

You had already stocked up on all kinds of chips, chocolate and candy. Loki had just emerged from the shower, wearing a half-open green robe that showed off his muscular chest, still flushed from the heat. He looked even taller and more imposing in your small apartment, his wet raven hair dripping water.

To distract yourself from your lusty thoughts, you went to the living room and lit a candle. You snuggled into the couch, and that’s when Loki strolled in, his musky scent filling the air. He sat down beside you and handed you a glass of wine. Your glasses clinked and you took a few sips of wine and smiled at him, enjoying the rich, fruity taste.

“Good?” He asked.

You grinned. “You have excellent taste.”

“Are you happy?” Loki asked. As much as he grumbled about Midgard, he knew how much you missed your old life. He spoiled you as often as he could.

“Very. Thank you, honey. You are quite possibly the best husband in the whole universe.”

He bent to kiss your neck. “Quite possibly? My dear, I am unequivocally the best. And I can prove it to you.”

You moaned as his lips trailed your neck, dragging your neckline aside to kiss your collarbones. “Loki no.”

“Why not?” He looked up at you like a child who’d been refused his favorite toy.

“You promised we’d watch a movie tonight.”

"I desire to ravish you instead."

You half-laughed. “You ravish me daily.”

“And it appears I am never satisfied. So I crave more.”

“You know, sometimes it’s hard keeping up with your libido,” you muttered as he cupped your breasts over your T-shirt and traced your nipples. “Loki, wait—”

He grumbled and drew back. “You are one merciless woman.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’d like to watch a movie with you. It’s been my dream, being with my boyfriend—”

“Husband,” he corrected.

“Yes, being with my husband and watching a late night movie while eating snacks.”

“I shall indulge you, my wife,” he said, tucking his robe closed and trying to hide his raging erection. He flashed a smile, his white teeth gleaming, and added, “And then,I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

You blushed. Loki often said things like that, completely shameless. “You debauched God,” you muttered.

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “A pleasure, darling.”

Sprawling his long legs, Loki tucked you in his arms, a soft blanket draped over you. You craddled a bowl of chips, snacks, and candy in one arm and the TV remote in the other, browsing movies on Netflix.

“This place is nice, even pretty,” Loki mused as he looked around the renovated apartment. He hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate it before.

“Pretty, huh? I remember you calling it a ‘pathetic hovel’ last time,” you teased, glancing up at him.

“Well… that was a long time ago.”

“So, what do you want to watch tonight?”

He sighed. “Well, if we’re going to waste time with Midgardian entertainment, it might as well be brief.”

“Brief? I guess a movie then.”

“Yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “I have to debauch you after that, remember?”

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “You know, I think you’re secretly ashamed to enjoy a little human entertainment.”

“No. I’m simply eager to fuck you. That’s one thing I will never lie about.”

“What a rake you are.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “If I must suffer through this, let’s get over with it. Please.”

As it turned out, the movie held Loki’s interest for twenty minutes before he started being mischievous.

Honestly, you expected him to start sooner.

He took a chip and pretended to accidentally drop it in your lap. Then, acting all innocent, he “accidentally” tried to catch it, slipping his hand between your thighs. His fingers brushed against your clothed pussy, but retreated when you sent him a firm look.

Loki resumed watching the movie.

A while later, he cuddled you close and “accidentally” dropped a piece of popcorn down your shirt, between your breasts. You barely held back your grin at his ministrations. He retrieved it and you stopped his groping with a gentle slap of your hand.

“You know,” you started, “for the god of mischief, your way of distracting me is pretty lame.”

He smiled and undeterred, opened his robe. “I’m hot.”

Your eyes strayed from the TV screen because good Gods, he’d opened his robe completely, giving you a good view of his glorious cock. Thick, long and fat, it stood at attention. It throbbed, thick veins running from the head to the base. You bit your lips at the bead of moisture at the head. Loki had a magnificent chiseled body, and his cock was like rest of him, Godly. Devine. Perfect.

You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ignore the emptiness inside you. Damn him for using your weakness against you. His green eyes glowed in the dim light, filled with a hunger that promised to have you mewling and begging for his touch.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the movie?” Loki asked, his voice a husky whisper. His cock throbbed from between your bodies, begging for your touch.

You dragged your eyes from his cock and up to his face. “This is not fair.”

“God of mischief.”

In a swift move, he shifted, pushing you against the couch with his body between your legs. You gasped at the feel of him against you. Warm, hard and scented with masculine musk, your husband was irresistible. The movie played in the background, but went completely unnoticed.

He caught your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. “It’s time for me to have a taste of my Queen. I want my sweet human crying out, her pretty pink pussy clenching around me.”

“Hmm… yes…” you said in between wet kisses. “More, please… Loki…”

With a satisfied hum, he worked on removing your clothes, tugging at your pajamas and almost tearing your underwear. He tossed away both of your clothes away as if they offended him until there was nothing left but your smooth skin exposed to his eyes. Grasping under your knees, he steered them wide apart, and enjoyed the view. Creamy thighs and in between was the most pretty, pink puffy cunt begging for his attention.

“Look at that,” he drawled, his finger running up and down your drenched slit. “I could scent your desire all this time, my naughty little Queen.”

You opened your mouth to speak but moaned when one thick finger pressed inside. He gathered your wetness and pumped slowly, in and out, in and out, while watching you intently. You squirmed, seeking more, but he kept you still. A second finger entered, curling and rubbing that sensitive spot. You fell back, your toes curling. Licking his lips, Loki added a third, stretching you wide for him while his thumb teased your clit.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, watching at where your cunt squeezed his fingers. “So beautiful.”

“Husband, please.” You gripped his forearms. “Want them faster.”

Loki grinned and obliged, thrusting his fingers in a come hither motion. You rocked against them, panting and whining from overload. He kept his other hand on your inner thigh, keeping you open for him. Thrusting, stroking and playing with you, you came in a matter of seconds. Stars flashed in your vision. You were delirious, floating in clouds of bliss.

Loki retreated from your pussy, licking his fingers that were all wet from your juices. Then growing low, he descended upon your mound, his teeth nibbling at the fat pussy lips before flicking his tongue around your clit. Oversensitive, you tried to stop him but couldn’t. Body taut, you threaded your hands through his wet hair, grinding your pussy against his face.

A few more shameless licks and you cried out, shaking, coming apart with long-drawn moans. Loki didn’t stop teasing you, he fucked you with his fingers, moving up to devour your nipples, sucking the buds deep into his warm mouth.

“My pretty Queen possesses the sweetest taste. Can’t have enough of you.”

He claimed your mouth and you moaned at the taste of your essence on his tongue. Your hands traveled along his strong body, caressing his broad shoulders before traveling low to cup his cock. You pumped him, traced the veins and rubbed the leaky head. Loki hummed, pleased as he licked into your mouth.

Pinning your hands above your head, he grabbed his fat cock and slapped it on your pussy lips. He was heavy and hot. You watched as he rubbed the pulsing shaft until it was coated in your juices, teasing you by thrusting the cockhead inside your little slit before drawing back. With a whine, you canted your hips, begging him in a series of whines and murmurs.

He indulged you and finally surged forward, watching as your small opening was forced open by his dick. You both moaned at the sensations and once he was seated to the hilt you needed a few moments to adjust to the invasion. He was big, bigger than a human in every way. You always needed some moments to get used to the incredible fullness and stretch.

Even so, you always fit perfectly together.

“Good?” he asked, breathless and aroused.

“Okay, you can move now.”

Nodding, he pulled back, his veined length frothing with your slick before slamming back in. Having him inside you felt glorious. He did it again, his eyes fixed on your pretty cunt; he drew back till all his cock was out, then pushed deep, until his swollen balls squeezed against your ass.

“Loki,” you whined, not caring how desperate you sounded, “want to touch you.”

He freed your hands and you immediately traced his strong body, trailing your fingers down his neck, chest, nipples and firm ass while he pounded inside you, claiming your very soul. Clutching your waist, he went faster, his mouth devouring your nipples while you clung to his shoulders for dear life and rode higher and higher.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast and you shut your eyes tightly at how intense it was. Loki followed right after you, delving to the hilt and shooting ropes of warm cum inside you. You felt his release, every pump that flooded your pussy and overflowed, dripping down your the crack of your ass.

With a rumble of satisfaction, he set you to lay on your side, cuddling you from behind, his still hard shaft still within you. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, then suckled your nipples and cupped your breasts in his hands. You relaxed into him, your body lax and spent.

“We should watch the rest of the movie now,” he said in an absolutely serious tone.

You half-laughed. “We missed most of it.”

He kissed your head with a grin. “We can watch it again.”

“Oh, now you don’t mind?”

“I think I’m going to relish watching as many movies as you want, darling.”

To prove his point, he gave a shallow thrust—he was still hard and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“That sounds like a threat, husband,” you moaned when he draped your leg over his thigh. “Loki—”

He rubbed the place where you were joined. “I want to play with my Queen’s pussy while we watch the movie.”

You wiggled but he kept you lodged to him. “Loki this is too much.”

He silenced you with a kiss and drew tight circles over your clit. You felt warm magic permeating your pussy and knew that he was healing you. You no longer felt so oversensitive and the stretch of his cock was pleasing, welcoming.

“There,” he dragged his tongue across your neck. “I always take care of my wife.” He kissed your forehead and added, “Now put the movie from the start.”

“Lo—” you didn’t manage to let out another word and whined when he leaned down to kiss around your flushed nipples.

“Loki—”

“The movie, darling,” he said and gently thrust his cock, reminding you that he remained rock hard inside you.

Loki moved from behind you, his hands, mouth and delicious length of him inside you teasing you to another orgasm. True to his word, he ended up fucking you until the credits rolled and you had no strength to do anything else but melt sweetly into his arms and enjoy his ministrations.