#by the time they settle down they’re 35

[appreciatingtokrev]

being a rarepair shipper is fun and games until the k polycule (kazutora/kokonoi/kakucho) is stuck in your head for hours if not days again and there is literally zero content of them out there

[ky-yk]

eve, psyche, and… (hyj x f!reader)

a sequel to “delicate (hyj x f!reader)”

genre: fluff || word count: 2.4k

author’s note: you asked, i delivered. hope u enjoy this one, fruit baskets 🫶🫨

you weren’t a k-pop stan. not by a long shot.

yet here you were, in seoul, seated as close to the stage as you could be for le sserafim’s flame rises concert.

you sat patiently waiting for the show to start with your bucket hat resting low on your head and your banner on your lap. to pass the time, you started mindlessly using your phone.

soon enough, you ended up looking through your conversations with jen and reminiscing on how far you two had come.

after sending jen that dm, you pocketed your phone and continued your journey back to your hotel. as soon as you arrived, your phone connected to the wifi and came alive with notifications from friends and family asking about how the concert went. you put your phone down and instead decided to get on with your evening routine before replying to them.

as you settled in bed, you skimmed through your friends' and family's messages.

however, one notification caught your eye.

jenaissante: well well well

you smiled to yourself as you finally read the message. the girl was online as well and must’ve seen you read her message because you then saw a text bubble pop up beside her profile picture, the three dots bouncing around in anticipation.

jenaissante: wait wait not here 😭

suddenly, you receive another notification: a follow request from what appeared to be her private account.

jenaissante: let’s talk there instead

itsyn: alright then 😭

after accepting her follow request and following her back, you dm’d her again.

itsyn: so

itsyn: a k-pop idol, huh?

you barely slept a wink that night because you spent the whole time talking to jen—yunjin. laying on your stomach while hugging the pillow beneath you, you and her talked about anything and everything until the post-concert exhaustion caught up with you.

the other girl must’ve noticed you’d passed out, because as she sat at the airport and waited to board, she chuckled to herself before typing one last message for the night.

pas.un.ange: good night, y/n.

you shook your head and chuckled to yourself as you pocketed your phone, paying attention to your surroundings instead and taking it all in: people settling into their seats, the excited chatter of fans (fearnots? is that what they’re called?), and just the sheer scale of the production. you had a vague idea of just how huge jen was, but seeing it in person was surreal.

quite the superstar you are, huh, jen?

before the show began, you picked your lightstick up from your bag, as well as your battery pack, and put them together just in time for the lights to dim as everyone else raised their lightsticks and cheered in excitement. you looked around at the scene, a sense of pride washing over you as you happily hollered with the crowd.

an intro video played on screen, signaling the start of the show. as each member appeared on screen for the first time, the crowd went wild, making you chuckle at first before joining the ruckus.

soon enough, though, yunjin appeared on screen.

and any scream that was due to come out of your throat died in its wake, instead leaving you slack-jawed at the sight of your seatmate in all her idol glory -- dressed to the nines and her once bright and wide eyes now glaring into your soul.

this wasn't jen. this was huh yunjin.

before you knew it, the vcr had ended, and the screens were splitting to make way for the five-piece to take the stage -- much to the excitement of the whole crowd. as soon as their silhouettes were clear, the crowd only hollered more (and further justified the $35 you spent on earplugs).

soon enough, both the spotlight and the cameras were on them for all to see. you looked on in awe at your seatmate now taking the stage for herself. not long after, the girls got in formation, and you could hear the buildup to their latest single blasting over the speakers.

"unforgiven, i'm a villain, i'm a."

the show was on.

you'd lost count of how many times your jaw dropped at just how impressed you were. before the concert, you were only vaguely familiar with the group. you'd think that as jen's friend, you'd be up to date on all their latest releases and shenanigans, but you made it clear to her that you wanted to get to know her outside of her idol life and career.

that lead to you basically receiving a crash course in all things le sserafim as the concert went on. you'd gotten familiar with the members and their idol personas, their insane discography, their overflowing talent, and their undeniable charm.

some members more so than others.

what's that called again? a bias?

you knew jen was talented. you knew she sang and played the guitar, you knew she had a few original songs under her belt (even sneaking you peeks at some unreleased ones), and you knew she'd spent a large chunk of her life training to become an idol.

but seeing her here right now? guitar in hand and performing an unreleased song under the harsh spotlight for her solo stage after singing and dancing with unrivaled charm for multiple songs back to back? you knew she was born to perform.

soon enough, it was time for the encore.

and it was your time to shine.

seeing the girls come back out and stylishly wearing their tour merch, you perked up and readied your sign. after a few words from the members, the telltale synths of flash forward came on the speakers as yunjin opened the song and started walking around the stage to interact with fans.

as you saw her come closer, you raised your sign even higher to try and grab her attention. she was smiling and waving at the fans beside you, but soon enough, she looked in your direction and took notice of your sign.

and then you.

you peeked out from under your bucket hat and made eye contact with the girl. you laughed at her bewildered expression before she pointed at herself and mouthed, "my wife?"

you responded with a sheepish shrug as she chuckled at you and gave you an easy smile that she must've realized lingered a little too long because she then moved on to the other fans around you and finally left your side of the stage.

you stood with your sign as the other members stopped by your side of the stage. when you locked eyes with them, they all looked some semblance of surprise -- as if they recognized you. jen must've told them about me, huh? you hope none of the fans around you saw their reactions to you. this is not how i want to get famous...

soon enough, though, the confetti popped as the girls took their final bows, not before shedding a few (a lot) tears, though.

that you took way too many pictures of.

for a rainy day, you know?

you sat back down and waited for the rest of the crowd to leave. when you noticed your own seatmates getting up to go, you followed their lead. with their chatter as your background noise, you turned your phone on and connected to your pocket wifi as your notifications came pouring in.

from a certain k-pop idol.

pas.un.ange: i didnt imagine that right

pas.un.ange: you were here??

pas.un.ange: where are u staying btw

pas.un.ange: also

pas.un.ange: my wife? 😳

you shook your head and chuckled to yourself at her shenanigans as you made your way out of the arena and towards the subway station. you replied to each of her messages just before your train arrived. you pocketed your phone and settled in, letting the exhaustion just barely take over you before you could reach your stop.

as you stepped out into the cool seoul evening, you absent-mindedly walked back to your hotel and were just about to go inside, but not before a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"damn, not even a hug from my wife?"

you looked up in surprise at jen, wrapped up in her huge coat with her hands in her pockets as she laughed at how your droopy eyes suddenly went wide. she walked closer, but not before you could crash into her, wrap your arms around her waist, and hug her tight. taken by surprise at the sudden contact, she returned the hug and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"you've got time for a snack run?" you heard her ask. you nodded against her chest, feeling it rumble as she chuckled.

"ja, let's go," she said before letting you go and walking into the convenience store located right beside the hotel entrance with you trailing right behind her.

you both scoured the aisles and picked up some ramyeon for you both to share. after taking your pick, though, you both kept exploring the store for more items either of you might want to pick up.

soon enough, you made it to the back of the store where they kept their drinks in rows of refrigerators. you opened a fridge, being greeted by an assault of cold air, and picked up a bottle of coke zero, before hearing her call out to you.

"yah, y/n, come here!" she said, looking up at the mirror on the corner ceiling, her phone ready to take pictures. you shook your head in playful disbelief as you saddled up beside her and had your mini photoshoot.

you sat patiently by the window as she paid and cooked your food (at her insistence). you broke out of your reverie when the smell of your ramyeon attacked your senses.

"something on your mind?" she asked as she took the seat beside you, put your drinks down, and offered you a pair of chopsticks that you then took.

"do your managers know you're here?"

"what they don't know won't kill them," she shrugged before you smacked her shoulder.

"hey! i'm kidding, of course they know I'm here. how else do you think i got here before you did?"

"and you're not worried about getting caught?"

"i'd say i'm conspicuous enough. it helps that i'm speaking english."

you thought about it for a second before resigning, breaking your chopsticks apart, and mixing the ramyeon.

"i still can't quite believe you're here."

"you did amazing, by the way. all of you. send my regards to the girls later, they were lovely."

"what was your favorite part?" she asked nonchalantly.

"oh, probably when kazuha--"

"yah!"

"i'm kidding! hm..." you hummed, as if deep in thought.

"probably when my bias noticed my sign."

"yeah?"

"oh yeah, kazuha is so much prettier up close,"

"if you want i cou--"

"she's nothing compared to you, though." it was your turn to cut her off with a hand to her bicep. the words die in her throat as she visibly flusters. she clears her throat and changes the subject.

seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into an hour, and soon enough, jen's phone starts buzzing.

"yeoboseyo? ne... ah ne." with the way her face falls, you can only imagine what the conversation was about. she puts her phone down and lets out a deep sigh.

"i think i have to go, manager-nim's been waiting up on me for a while now."

you hum in understanding. "send my regards to your manager, too, i feel bad for keeping him this long."

you both start arranging your trash into a pile. jen moves to stand, and you're just about to do the same, but not before you feel a weight slumped behind you, burying its face in your neck.

"i dont wanna go," you can barely make out, causing you to chuckle.

jen gets up from the awkward position and stands behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing her front to your back. your eyes widen at the contact and you hope that if she catches your face burning, she assumes it's just because of the ramyeon you both had. she rests her chin on your shoulder and sighs.

you feel her right arm leave its spot on your waist and disappointment bubble up for a second before she hands you her phone. "come on, let's take a few pictures."

"you love your pictures, huh?"

"i don't know when i can see you again."

you hummed as you opened her camera and she wrapped her arms around your waist again, cuddling in closer than you thought was even possible for the picture. you kept spamming the shutter as she kept nuzzling closer to you, even feeling her nosing your neck at some point.

after saying your goodbyes to the lovely register, you both walked out into the cold night, the blast of air waking you both up better than any cup of coffee could. in front of your hotel, a lone black van was parked.

you walked side by side, bumping into each other as you walked to the front of your hotel. jen stopped in her tracks, and you took that as a sign to walk in front of her.

"well, i guess this is me."

"i think i've seen this film before, haven't you?" she jokes, trying to lighten the mood. you chuckled.

"you're right, it does feel familiar," you say as you take a step closer to her.

it was your turn to hold her by the biceps and tiptoe to whisper in her ear.

"only this time, i wonder if i'll like the ending."

before you could pull away, jen throws all caution into the cold wind and cups your cheeks to take your breath away in a searing kiss. frozen at first, you soon relax into the kiss and place your hands on her waist to return the kiss. eventually, you both barely pulled away, leaving tiny pecks before completely separating.

jen's eyes open a little bit, looking a little dazed before seemingly snapping out of it. she drops her arms and takes a step back, suddenly looking super flustered and awkward -- scratching her neck and finding the post behind you so fascinating with how hard she was staring at it. you chuckled and stepped closer to give her a peck on the cheek.

"see you around, jen. get home safe," you tell her before disappearing into your hotel lobby.

"bye y/n," she whispers into the night before finally making her way into her van.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36

Eddie’s heart thumps oddly once again, this time because Steve had used his name. He’d already become used to Eds. He ignores it and spreads his hands. “I’m willing to accept whatever you’ll give me,” he says quietly. “I’m still groveling, here, I’m not exactly in a position to be making demands.”

Steve smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and Eddie hates it. “That’s the thing, though. It’s complicated. I don’t know how to define it.”

Eddie hums. “We’re slightly to the left of best friends.”

Steve snickers. “That’s pretty spot-on, actually.”

Eddie shrugs and grins, feeling oddly proud of himself for figuring it out and making Steve smile.

They stand in silence for a minute until Alli pops her head out of the kitchen. “Are you two gonna kiss again? Or is now a good time to offer food?”

Steve snorts and pitches forward to rest his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. “Al, you’re awful.”

“You love me,” she responds immediately, grinning at Eddie.

Eddie grins back and pokes at Steve’s arm. “She’s offering us food, Stevie, I’m inclined to say yes.”

Steve chuckles before leaning back to smile at Eddie. “Yeah, alright,” he decides, “I could eat.”

Eddie reaches out, links their hands, silently offers Steve an out.

He doesn’t take it, instead grips Eddie’s hand more surely, and something in Eddie’s chest settles.

They walk into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and Steve grins and shakes his head when Alli starts cooing at them. “Yeah, okay,” he says, then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Hey, you should invite Cassidy over soon.”

Eddie looks between the siblings as they have a silent conversation mostly consisting of eyebrows and head tilts that ends with Steve grinning and Alli shaking her head, trying to hide a smile. “So,” Steve says, “what did you make?”

Alli chuckles and hops up backwards onto the counter by the stove. “Mac and cheese.”

“Ooh,” Steve says, instantly intrigued. He lets go of Eddie’s hand to peer into the pot. “With the good cheese?”

“With the good cheese,” Alli agrees.

Steve whirls around to grin at Eddie. “You’re gonna love this,” he says, “Alli makes the best mac and cheese.”

Eddie grins. “I dunno, Stevie, I think my uncle’s boxed mac might have her beat.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head as he gets three bowls out. He tilts his head towards a drawer. “There’s forks in there, can you grab some?”

Eddie does so, and just as they’re finishing serving themselves, someone opens the front door.

“Steve?” A voice calls. “You home?”

Steve sighs and puts his bowl down. “The little shit,” he mutters, moving out into the living room. “Dustin, what are you doing here?”

The answer is too quiet for Eddie to hear, so he eats his food and eyes Steve’s bowl. Alli laughs at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she says seriously, “Steve’s fought me for less.” Eddie gives her his best innocent who, me? look, and she grins at him. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble. I like you.”

His grin turns smaller, shyer. “Thank you for not kicking my ass on sight, earlier,” he murmurs.

She grins and nudges his shoulder with her fist. “Steve’s tough. He doesn’t need me to protect him.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, “but it’s still nice to have someone in your corner.”

“Oh,” she murmurs suddenly. “I forgot.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Forgot what?”

“The stories. ‘Bout why you’re here, in Forest Hills, ‘stead of wherever he is.”

She says he in a way that Eddie knows she knows exactly what’s meant by those two little letters. He swallows a lump. “Yeah,” he murmurs back. “‘S why I know.”

She smiles at him. “Your… uncle, right?”

Eddie smiles back. “Yeah. Wayne. He’s… he’s pretty great.”

Alli rests a hip on the counter. “Tell me about him?”

Stomach full of food, safe and warm and happy in this house, with the sound of his maybe-boyfriend scolding his pseudo-younger brother in the other room, Eddie grins and hops up onto the counter. “Gladly.”

Towards the end of his story, Steve comes huffing into the kitchen, making a beeline for the phone. He punches a number in and waits. “Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” he says politely. “Is Robin home?” He listens for a moment, says, “Okay, thank you,” and hangs up, turning to Eddie. “What’s your number?”

Eddie blinks before grinning, and Steve good-naturedly rolls his eyes. “Not like that, you ass,” he chuckles. Eddie relents and rattles off the numbers, and Steve punches those in before waiting again. “Hi, Mr. Munson,” Steve says. Eddie mouths the words and makes a face, and Alli snorts at him. “Is Robin there still?” A pause, then, “Ah,” as his cheeks pinken. “Yes, sir. He did.” Another few seconds later, “Hey. The little shit found Dart.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.” A laugh, then, “well I’m not gonna tell him.” A squawk, “I am not his-” he cuts off abruptly and pulls the phone from his ear to frown at it. “She hung up on me!”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

[f10werfae]

My wife is fine, thanks

pairing: Husband!Henry x Wife!Reader

summary: I LOVE YOUR HENRY CAVILL POSTS!So can I request an Instagram blurb for wife!reader (obv for Henry Cavill), where fans react to wife!reader and henry having an age gap (10+). (requested by @chaotictwig)

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Full M.List, Henry M.List, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/hellostarsky: Can everyone stop hating on Henry, so what if he’s 39 and she’s 28?? They’re both legal consenting adults, he did not groom her and treats her with the utmost respect. She does not need the stress of you guys while she’s pregnant with their baby.

@/caviilll: I don’t care what anyone says, Y/n and Henry are so mf cute. The way he spoils the hell out of her and just always holds her close♥️♥️ If only

-

@/relatimefr: Ok but their age gap is so weird, she was being born when he was like 11 wtf

>> @/Prettyprincess: They lit started dating at 24 and 35, you can calm yourself honey, they did nothing but fall in love☠️

-

@/Henry Cavill: Happy 29th birthday to my lovely beautiful wife, the future mother to our baby(ies) and my best friend in life. Glad to be doing life with you and no one else, can’t wait to see you when I get home tonight, both you and baby Cavill ♥️

-

@/Holymacsncheese: But their age gap suits them sm, Y/n makes sure Henry keeps up to date with all the new things today, and he grounds her to a sense of comfort and love. They compliment each other so much, match made in heaven I say

-

@/Polypockets: yall acting as if he groomed her straight out of highschool, they literally met on set where she had to play his wife, yall just jealous cause it ain’t you 💋

-

@/Y/nCavill: 35 Weeks today! Baby Cavill is now officially nearly here, unfortunately i’ll be taking a break from future projects for some time, I want to finally settle down and accept my new role. The role of motherhood. Hope you all understand, Y/n xx

>> @/HenryCavill: I’d like to follow this by saying that, after this new movie I will also be taking a break for the next year or so, who knows. Just would like you all to know that I appreciate those who support us wholeheartedly, and I can’t wait to start this new journey!

-

@/User19204726: That picture of Henry showing Y/n new dresses in the maternity shop while she’s sitting watching him, is the cutest thing. She was too tired to walk about the shop, so he literally went around and got everything to have a mini fashion show for her

-

@/pumpituplease: God bless Y/n for posting pictures of Henry painting the nursery, that man is giving real dilf material now, and we can’t forget about the milf Y/n. Sexiest Power couple for realsies

-

@/geraltlovers: Omg I thought we were over the whole age gap thing?! Why the hell are papers still calling him all these names and calling Y/n naïve?? They lit have a child together, get a grip

>> @/petalsforpeps: omg ikr, like get over yourselves because they don’t care about what you have to say

-

@/Y/nCavill: Henry and I would like to welcome baby Penelope into the world, she arrived on September 25th and is currently rocking it! No pictures will be shared, hope you all understand that ♥️

-

@/cpatainsy: HENRY IS A DAD GUYS OMG, HIM AND Y/N’S BABY IS GONNA ACTUALLY SLAY THE REAL WORLD. WE BETTER PREPARE OURSELVES!!

-

@/rainbowsncakes: Omg that photo Y/n posted with Henry’s back to the camera, you can just see the tiniest bit of baby Penelope’s hair out of the corner of his arm, AND ITS DARK HAIR, SHE GOT HIS CURLY HAIR I BET

>> @/lotsoocks: YOO ACCORDING TO HENRY’S MUM’S POST, BABY PENELOPE CAME OUT ROUGHLY THE SAME SIZE HENRY WAS WHEN HE WAS BORN. POOR Y/N

>>> @Y/nCavill: NO BECAUSE THIS IS TRUE, 38 HOURS OF PURE HARD LABOUR. Thankful for all the nurses, doctors, midwives and especially my bear of a husband who didn’t leave me alone once♥️

-

@/user823783: Fuck this family bullshit, when is Henry gonna back to our screens?!

>> @/HenryCavill: i’m sorry but I don’t tolerate anyone speaking about my family like that, a fan of mine wouldn’t speak of people I love like that. We want to live a peaceful life full of love, if you can’t respect that then i’m glad i’m not back to work yet. Family comes first.

-

@/HenryCavill: I love my wife @Y/nCavill and my gorgeous daughter Penelope, the exact double of me I must say (sorry babe) I also love the people who support me, and it hurts me to say that it’s a minority of you that seem to keep harassing my family. Please respect our lives, not only has our relationship been through enough, but our privacy has been violated more than enough times. Enough is enough.

>> @/jellyjumpbean: What sorta losers are still hating on them?! Can we please grow up and stop being delusional, the man is happy with his own family now. None of then deserve this abuse and especially not little Penelope who hasn’t even been here 5 minutes

-

@/Dcornarvel: Y/n is absolutely growing post pregnancy, you would never guess that she’s edging 30, Henry is one lucky man for real

>> @/HenryCavill: That I am. Thank you very much my friend ♥️

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefhasbeenmanaged @nikkitc0703 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke @marvelstarker-mha98

[justagalwhowrites]

New in Town - Ch. 7: First Double Date

You and Joel go out with Tommy and Maria. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-6 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 5.5k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“I swear to God Joel, if you make fun of me…” 

“I’m not gonna make fun of you, Beautiful.” 

“Oh you say that now.” 

“I’m really not,” he laughed a little.  

“I did like… research and shit,” you said from the other side of your bathroom door. “I Googled, OK?” 

“I’m sure you look incredible,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Just come out here.” 

You sighed.

“Fine.” 

You knew you shouldn’t be nervous with Joel and, usually, you weren’t. But this felt a little different. You opened the bathroom door and came into your bedroom, doing a little spin as you did to show him both sides of the outfit. His face shifted from a smile to something almost hungry as he looked you up and down from his spot on the edge of your bed. He checked his watch. 

“What?” You frowned. 

“Just seein’ how much time we have until Tommy and Maria get here,” he said, looking back at you. “Think if we’re quick and leave that little skirt on…” 

You laughed and all but jumped on his lap, kissing him. 

You were going on your first double date with Joel, with his brother and sister-in-law of all people. You’d met Tommy and Maria at Sarah’s cookout a few weeks earlier but hadn’t seen them since. You had, however, heard plenty about them since then. Especially after Joel told you that his brother knew about the two of you. 

Your eyes had gone wide when he’d told you that. 

“Are you sure it was a good idea to tell him quite yet?” You asked. “We haven’t told Sarah and they’re pretty close…” 

“Yeah, I didn’t… uh…” Joel awkwardly cupped the back of his neck. “Didn’t exactly… tell him.” 

You frowned. 

“What do you…” 

“Maria… might have heard us in the bathroom at the cookout.” 

“What!” You yelped, eyes wide. “Oh my GOD, Joel!” 

“It’s fine…” 

You groaned and collapsed all the way down onto his couch, burying your face in the arm of it. 

“They must think I’m some kind of ridiculous slut!” Your voice was muffled by the cushion. “This is mortifying…” 

“It’s really not that bad,” he rubbed your thigh soothingly. “Really. They like you! A lot! And they kept sayin’ they’d never seen me this happy. Honestly, Tommy was just happy to see me with someone I wanted to fuck in a bathroom.”

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned. “Well, it’s been great, Joel, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to change my name and move to Antarctica…” 

He laughed and tugged you over until your head was on his shoulder instead of the couch. 

“Sounds cold,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ll have to find a coat.” 

If you’d been falling for Joel before, you’d fully fallen for him over the past two weeks, ever since he’d found out everything about your childhood and your dad. 

You’d almost expected him to look for an out once it all settled in. That, when all the baggage had been sitting there for long enough for him to take inventory of it all, he’d run. 

But he hadn’t. He’d done the opposite. He spent that weekend holed up with you. Making you dinner, holding you close while watching Sharknado, changing the locks on your front door and installing a doorbell camera so you could see if he stopped by. He dropped you off at work Monday morning and picked you up that afternoon, heading straight to a car dealership after handing you a small pile of print outs. You frowned, looking at them. 

“What…” 

“So I took what I was asking you about cars over the weekend and found some good options for you,” he said. “Four of ‘em are at one dealership so I figured we could start there unless these are really not what you’re lookin’ for…” 

You flipped through the pages, all cars that were makes and models you were already thinking about wanting to look at, just tracked down at places around you instead of an abstract thought in your head. 

You teared up, a hand covering your mouth. 

Joel frowned. 

“We don’t have to do this today,” he said. “I don’t mind drivin’ you for a bit, happy to do it if you need a little more time or just aren’t up for it or…” 

“No one’s ever done something like this for me,” you dabbed at the corners of your eyes, trying to keep the tears from actually falling and ruining your mascara. 

“Told you I’ve got you, Beautiful,” Joel said. “Meant it.” 

You ended up buying a car Tuesday, Joel not a fan of how the salesman you talked to at the first dealership seemed incapable of talking directly to you and instead looked at Joel when answering all your questions. 

“That’s just how it is,” you shrugged as you headed back to his truck. 

“Don’t matter,” Joel said, opening your door for you. “It’s bullshit. We can always come back if we come up empty but you shouldn’t give your money to that jackass.” 

The second dealership had a saleswoman who would actually talk to you and not your boyfriend - boyfriend? - and ended up getting you a car with even nicer features than the one your dad had totaled for about the same price. You dropped Joel’s truck at your place and you drove the two of you to a restaurant you’d found on a local food blog, running your hand over the dashboard when at red lights. 

“Happy with the car?” Joel asked, smiling almost proudly. It was one of the cars he’d found and printed the information on. 

“It’s perfect,” you beamed at him. “Thank you so much for just… everything the past few days. This is the best I’ve ever felt after a visit from my dad.” 

You were feeling pretty good on Wednesday when you got a Nest alert on your phone. Your dad was standing at your front door, trying the key he still had. You took a screenshot and texted Joel. 

“Guess who,” you wrote. “Glad you changed the locks.” 

He replied almost immediately. 

“I’m staying over,” he said. “Got his parole officer’s number?” 

When your dad came by that night and actually rang the bell, you stayed just out of sight, watching the reflection of what happened in a mirror on your entry way wall as Joel answered the door. 

“Oh,” he said when he saw Joel. “I’m sorry, I must have misremembered the apartment…” 

“You didn’t,” Joel said, his voice cold. “Know exactly who you are. You’re not welcome here. Come by again and I’m calling the cops and you’d better hope they get their hands on you before I do. She’s blocked your number.” He handed your dad a business card. “If it’s an emergency, you can call me but you’re stayin’ the fuck away from her. You had your chance, you blew it. Now go, before I make you go.” 

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are or what my daughter’s told you…” 

“I’m her boyfriend,” he snapped. “And she’s told me plenty. Was probably nicer than you deserved about it, too, knowing her. Last chance to leave on your own.” 

Your dad was silent for a moment. 

“Take care of her?” He said quietly. 

“I will,” Joel said, tone softer. “Do a better job of it than you did.” 

“Good,” he said. “Tell her bye for me.” 

Joel closed the door and the second you could reach him you threw your arms around his neck, pressing your whole body against him. You kissed him, hard and frantic, tugging him back toward your bedroom as you did. You all but ripped his clothes off of him as you stripped down yourself, racing to get him inside you, not really able to calm down until he was. 

“Fuck, Beautiful,” he groaned, his hands on your thighs as you straddled his hips, his cock deep inside. “What’s this for?” 

“Needed you,” you said, dropping your forehead to his as you panted for breath. 

You were sure you loved him then. You weren’t sure how to say it yet but you were sure you felt it. 

Which is part of why you were really trying for this double date. You were in love with Joel, you wanted to impress his brother and sister-in-law. The two of you hadn’t really talked about it but, ever since he called himself your boyfriend to your father, that’s what he was. And you liked it that way. You wanted him to want to bring you places. 

Including University of Texas football games. 

Even though you knew fuck all about college football. You’d basically spent your entire college career studying or working, going to sporting events hadn’t been too high on your to do list. 

So you’d done some research, looked up what people wore to things like college football games. You decided to go all out and settled on a denim mini-skirt, a v-neck University of Texas shirt, cowboy boots and little orange longhorn temporary tattoos on your cheeks. 

“Wonderin’ if we should just cancel on them,” Joel kissed down your neck to your cleavage. “Look too good, don’t want to share you.” 

“Yeah, we’re not canceling on your brother so you can get me naked,” you laughed a little. “But you can get me naked later.” 

“Good luck stoppin’ me,” he nipped at your chin. 

Your doorbell rang and Joel groaned, dropping his head to your chest.

“Tommy has always had terrible timing,” he sighed. 

You laughed and got off his lap. 

“C’mon you horn dog,” you teased. “Let’s go watch the sportsball.” 

“One thing first,” he reached under your bed and pulled out a straw cowboy hat. “Thought you might need one of these to complete the look.” 

You squealed and grabbed the hat, popping it on your head. 

“How long has this been under my bed?” You gaped at him. 

He smiled a little. 

“Snuck it in the other day,” he said. “You’re a Texan now so you gotta have at least one.” 

“I love it!” You looked in the mirror and adjusted it a little. “Thank you!” 

You tipped it at him.  

“How’s it look?” 

He smiled. 

“Beautiful. Just… Beautiful.” 

Tommy’s truck was loaded down with coolers and a grill, your eyes going a little wide at it all. 

“How many people are going to be there?” You asked Joel as you got in the back seat of the truck. 

“It’s a tailgate,” he shrugged. “Can never tell.” 

“Give Tommy an excuse to drink while grilling for a crowd and he’ll take it,” Maria smiled, twisting around in the front seat to actually face you. “Good to see you again!” 

“You too!” You smiled, trying to resist the urge to jump out of the car when you thought about the fact that she heard you going down on Joel. 

“I’m excited to have another woman around for this whole thing,” she smiled as Tommy started the truck. “They do this once a year and I swear it’s like they pack a whole season’s worth of football stuff into one day.” 

“I keep tellin’ ya, get me season tickets and we’ll spread it out,” Tommy teased. 

“You think I want to do this every weekend?” Maria asked, incredulous. 

Tommy scoffed. 

“Who wouldn’t?” 

Maria gave you a look as if to say “See what I deal with?” And you smiled as Joel took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

You helped get the tailgate set up before settling into a folding camp chair with a beer next to Maria, the two of you watching as Joel and Tommy put meat on the grill, serious looks on their faces as they worked. 

“So,” Maria smiled, taking a sip of beer. “You and Joel, huh?” 

“Me and Joel,” you nodded, smiling a little back. “Not too insane, is it?” 

“I mean, the circumstances might be a little odd but otherwise,” she shrugged. “He likes you.” 

“I sure hope so,” you laughed, taking a drink of beer yourself and looking out at the crowd that was gathering to tailgate. The truck across from you was setting up a game of cornhole. Someone a few trucks down had started playing country music at top volume. “I’m a little fucked if he doesn’t at this point.” 

She laughed, too. 

“Look, I’ll be honest,” she said. “I know Joel better than most sisters-in-law probably care to know their brother-in-law. Him and Tommy… You marry one and you get the other, too. Package deal and all that.” 

You nodded slowly, watching the two of them work while talking conspiratorially themselves. 

“I’ve never, not once, seen him show this kind of interest in anyone,” she continued. “Honestly, Tommy and I figured he’d be single forever. Maybe a date here and there but… It never really seemed like a priority for him. He’s never even mentioned a woman before let alone brought her around.

“You seem to make him happy. Really happy. And I want to support him. But… I need to know that you’re in this for the long haul. That man doesn’t get attached lightly but he’s attached to you. Hell, he had me trying to interpret your texts a few weeks back, trying to make sure he didn’t fuck up…” 

You winced. 

“I was dealing with some family stuff,” you said. “I should have just talked to him about it from the get go and…” 

“Hey, I get it,” she cut you off. “Not like you’d been seeing each other long, I wouldn’t have told some guy I’d just met anything all that personal, either. I just want to make sure you care, that you know he’s not just screwing around with you. Not that he’s said that but I know the guy. Tommy knows the guy. This is a first and I’d rather not watch his heart get stomped on.” 

You looked at Joel. He was laughing at something Tommy said, his smile wide and beautiful. You couldn’t help but smile, too. Just looking at the guy made you happy. 

“I’m in it,” you said, still watching him. “Trust me, I’m very in it.” 

“Good,” Maria said. You thought you could hear the smile on her voice. “Because I really do need another girl around these two, they’re insufferable.” 

Once the grill was going, Joel put his arms around your shoulders and led you around the tailgate. Tommy’s set up, you soon realized, was relatively modest. A few people had come with campers and had big TVs set up outside, chairs on rugs out front watching other games from around the country. The two of you stopped and played ladder ball with someone who worked with Joel, him smiling proudly as he introduced you as “his girlfriend,” making your heart soar. You even ran into one of your copywriters as he chugged a beer shirtless with an orange X painted on his chest. 

“Oh shit, hey Boss!” He laughed. “Good to see you! Who’s your friend?” 

“This is my boyfriend, Joel,” you smiled. It was the first time you’d gotten to say that. Joel beamed and the two shook hands. “Joel, this is Steve, one of the copywriters at work.” 

“Want a beer?” Steve asked. “I’ll give you two if you promise to forget you saw me like this.” 

You laughed back. 

“Don’t worry, Steve,” you said. “I’ll be doing my best to forget that, anyway.” 

“So not all these people are going to the game?” You asked as you walked slowly back toward Tommy’s truck. Joel’s arm was draped over your shoulders again. 

“Nope,” Joel said. “People just come out to party. There’ll be a lot of people around the TVs later.” 

“Football is weird,” you scrunched your nose and Joel laughed. “But I’ll still watch it with you.”

“Oh really?” He teased. 

“Yup,” you smiled up at him. “But only because you’re hot.” 

He laughed. 

“Better get in the game time while I can, then.” 

When you made it back to the truck, food was ready (“Still got a lot to learn about grilling a great burger, Tommy,” Joel teased his brother, who just rolled his eyes) and you and Joel lost at cornhole to Tommy and Maria. 

“Do people really play stuff like that all the time?” You gaped at Tommy after he sent another bag directly into the hole on the opposite board. Yours were scattered on the ground around it. 

“We’ve got a set in our backyard,” Tommy said after he punched the air in victory. “You and Joel will just have to practice, don’t know if he can handle me kicking his ass.” 

By the time the game started, you’d almost forgotten that you’d come there to watch a football game, having so much fun in the parking lot outside that it seemed like the main attraction. 

You tried to mimic how other people reacted to the events on the field, not really understanding any of it but having fun watching Joel have fun. It was about half way through the first quarter when Joel leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You don’t understand any of this, do you?” He asked. 

You winced. You’d tried to watch some informational videos on YouTube and read some basic explainers of the game over the past week but it was like it was in a different language, you hadn’t been able to absorb any of it. 

“Never had anyone to explain it to me as a kid and never hung out with anyone who was into it as an adult,” you replied. “So no, not a damn thing. But it’s still fun!” 

“Here,” he put his hand on your waist and pointed toward the lineup of men on the field. “We’re on offense right now, that means we’re trying to score and we’ve got the ball. It’s second and eight…” 

Joel kindly, patiently, walked you through the basics, going back over things when he could tell you were confused or had forgotten something when it happened on the field. 

“It’s really OK,” you said after a few minutes. “I don’t want you to spend all the time you’re supposed to be having fun talking to me…” 

“Talking to you is fun,” he replied. “I’d rather talk to you all the time than watch any game. And I want you to have fun, too. Which I know you won’t if you don’t understand what’s going on because you feel better when you know things.” 

You looked up at him, at his warm smile and soft eyes and the one curl that had broken away from the rest to start curving over his forehead, and you couldn’t help it. For a moment, the feeling overwhelmed you and it just spilled out of you before you could stop it. 

“I love you,” you said before you realized you said it. 

Then your eyes went wide and your face fell and you scrambled to take it back. It was too soon to be saying this to him, you’d only known the man a few weeks and things were still insanely complicated, you’d barely figured out that you were in a full blown relationship let alone ready to bring something like love into the mix. It didn’t matter that you felt it and that you wanted to say it, it wasn’t the right time yet.

“Shit. Ignore that, please ignore that, pretend I didn’t say anything, I don’t want…” 

“I love you, too,” he cut you off, smiling so big his whole face lit up with it. 

You just blinked at him for a moment. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Yeah, I do. I really, really do.” 

He tipped your hat up and kissed you, his arm sliding around you to pull you flush against his front. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding tight to him, never wanting to stop feeling just like this. 

“Look!” Maria patted your shoulder urgently. “You’re on the kiss cam!” 

You pulled away from Joel just in time to see yourselves on the giant screen and you laughed, going back to kiss him again. 

***

“I’m glad you two seem to have figured your shit out,” Tommy had told him while they set up the grill. “She really does seem great.” 

“She is,” Joel said, watching you talk with Maria, looking so damn pretty in your little skirt and boots. “Fuck, she’s incredible.” 

“Anyone who can actually get you to feel something is a winner in my book,” Tommy replied, hooking up the propane tank. “Not sure what’s thicker, your skull or the space around your heart.” 

Joel laughed but he knew his brother had a point. He hadn’t been in a relationship - a real one - in a very long time. It had been even longer since he’d felt anything close to this for anyone. He’d gone from falling in love with you to just being in love with you and it had happened so quickly it was hard for him to even see it at first. 

He’d just known it when your father had shown up at your door that day. Joel knew what he was after - some other way to manipulate you, he was sure - and it made his blood boil. He had to consciously stop himself from hitting the man. The only reason he didn’t was because he knew it would hurt you if he did. But he knew he had to protect you, had to be the one standing in between you and the man who’d done nothing but neglect and harm you your entire life. 

His whole body burned with it. He wished he could have gone back in time somehow and protected you then, too. Made it so you didn’t have to go through any of it and stand between you and anyone who had ever so much as looked at you wrong. None of them deserved you. Neither did he, for that matter, but he could at least protect you from the worst of them. 

He knew he loved you then. He couldn’t conceive of how anyone could look at you and do anything that would willfully hurt you, how anyone could look at you and see anything but one of the greatest things the world had ever let happen. 

But he didn’t want to scare you off, so he kept it to himself, instead just doing everything he could to take care of you, get you to spend some time with him. 

It turned out, he didn’t need to try that hard. It seemed like you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you. 

You texted him over lunch on a day you were working from home, a picture of all the makings for mac and cheese and a BluRay of Jupiter Ascending, a movie Joel had heard was laughably bad and he’d been meaning to watch at some point. 

“Your place or mine?” You asked. 

Joel smiled. 

“Wherever you are, Beautiful, I’ll be there.”

You asked to come to his place so you could actually get out of your house for a bit and you showed up not long after Joel had gotten out of the shower, a pan of macaroni and cheese ready to go in the oven and a grocery bag over your arm with all the fixings for Bloody Marys. 

“I. Found. Bacon. Vodka,” your eyes were wide and excited. “It’s going to be amazing!” 

You were right, it was amazing. Everything with you was amazing. 

Because he loved you. 

“You told her yet?” Tommy asked as they say next to each other on the gate of his truck during lunch. 

“Told who what?” Joel asked, looking down at his phone for the umpteenth time since his lunch break started. You’d texted him a picture of a rather pathetic looking sandwich. 

“This food truck’s a bust,” you said. “Feeling very let down. I require real food. Dinner?” 

Joel was about to type out a response when you sent a selfie from what had to be a bathroom stall at your office, your shirt unbuttoned an extra button from what it had been when you’d gone your separate ways that morning. 

“In case you needed motivation,” you wrote. 

“Tell your girlfriend that you’re in love with her,” Tommy said. 

Joel frowned and actually looked up from his phone. 

“I didn’t…” 

“Don’t need to say it,” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m not blind and I might not be a genius but I ain’t that dumb. You’ve got it bad.”

Joel glared at him for a second. 

“S’too early,” he muttered. “Don’t wanna scare her off.” 

“You’re practically living with this woman,” he said. “She brought steak to your house the other night. Besides the blip, what’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing her since you started dating?” 

Joel was happy that, after the mall incident, Tommy was understanding without Joel needing to be too specific about what happened with your father. He’d just told Tommy “It was a tough family thing, makes our shit look like child’s play.” Tommy just said “Damn, poor girl, shit’s rough” and had only ever called it “the blip” from then on. 

“Just a work day, really,” Joel said. 

“Don’t think it’s too early for shit, man,” Tommy said. “Just don’t fuck it up. And figure out how to tell your kid because I’m shit at keeping secrets.”

Joel sighed and nodded to his brother before texting you back. 

“Never need much motivation with you,” he said. “Can’t let you starve on me. Come over, I’ll grill you a burger.”

When you fell asleep naked in his bed that night, he just watched you breathe, wondering how to tell you how he felt and how to tell his daughter that he was head over heels for her best friend. 

So when you’d all but blurted it out at him at the game, it was a relief. He’d been terrified it would slip out of him for almost two weeks now. That he’d hand you something, you’d say “thank you” and, instead of “you’re welcome” he’d say “I love you.” That he’d kiss you on the way out the door in the morning and instead of “goodbye” it would be “I love you.” That he’d be looking at your perfect face as you rode him and he’d gasp “I love you” as he came deep inside. 

It was a relief to know you felt it, too. It was a relief to say it out loud. It was a relief to feel the sense of security that settled into him at those words, the sense that this wasn’t something that would be easily undone. That this was something he could be safe in feeling, that he could rely on the connection he had with you that had gone from tenuous to vital so fast it made his head spin. 

The rest of the game, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You were either perched on his leg or standing right in front of him for the rest of the game, his hands on your waist, pressing his lips into your neck and cheek, each kiss just another “I love you” in his mind. He couldn’t even tell you the score by the end of the game, only knowing that UT won because everyone else around them seemed almost as happy as he was. 

Joel was eager to say his goodbyes to Tommy and Maria when they dropped the two of you off at your apartment. It’s not like he didn’t always want you - he always wanted you - but it was urgent now, a driving need more than a want. 

You, it seemed, were on the same wavelength. The front door was barely closed when you took fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him against you, kissing him deeply as you walked backwards deeper into your home. 

He pulled your hat off first, tossing it on your loveseat on the way back to your bedroom. You went from using his shirt to hold him close to tugging it up and over his head as he did the same with yours. 

In the bedroom, you turned so he was against the bed as you deftly opened his pants and pushed them and his boxer briefs down and off. You nudged him down onto the bed and looked him in the eyes as you slipped your panties down your legs, leaving on the little miniskirt that Joel had so wanted to fuck you in before the game. 

You straddled him, your arms resting on his shoulders, his hands on your back, fingers spread wide to touch as much of you as he could. He slowly, almost reverently, removed your bra, cupping your breasts for a moment before holding onto you again. You aligned your entrance with his cock, the head of him just inside of you. 

He held your gaze, his nose brushing yours, breathing the same air you were. He looked deep in your eyes as you started sinking onto him, your breath hitching as you did. 

“I love you,” he breathed, mouth so close to yours his lips brushed your own when he spoke. 

“Joel,” you managed, your body soft and warm against him as you took him into yourself. “I love you, I…” 

You gasped as he bottomed out within you and he clutched onto you, needing to be as close to you as he could possibly be. 

The two of you just looked at each other for a moment, your skin on his, his cock buried deep within you. 

He realized then that he’d never been inside someone he was in love with before you. He’d tried with Sarah’s mother but her resentment kept any real affection from becoming too deep. Everything before her has been for fun, he hadn’t been looking for anything permanent. No relationship had lasted long enough to actually fall for anyone since. 

It was an intense thing, knowing you loved him back while being a part of you. You always felt incredible, better than anything or anyone else he’d ever felt, but it was different now and he never wanted to be anywhere but with you. 

You took a deep, shaky breath before rising slowly over him. He could feel every inch of you, the tight grip of every ridge, the wet heat of you holding him perfectly inside. He kissed you as you started to ride him, moaning into your mouth, sinking his fingers into your soft skin. 

Your skirt bunched around your hips and you ground your clit against him and he relished it, loving the feeling of you finding your pleasure with his body. 

He met you stroke for stroke until you came over him with a whimper, kissing him deeper, pussy gushing over his cock. 

Joel moved you below him, settling between your thighs, his body still tight to yours for a moment before he separated from you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, breasts heaving. He slid a hand up your stomach, drinking you in, eyes lingering on the place disappeared into you, your sex swollen and slick. 

“Want to see you,” he panted, moving his hands to the inside of your knees, slipping them over your thighs until one thumb found your clit and the other slipped around your hip to your lower back, your sexy little skirt pushed up around your waist now. “Want to see you come for me.” 

He started driving into you, pulling back almost reluctantly to thrust back as deep as he could reach, watching it move through your body, the ripple of your skin, the bounce of your breasts, the desperate look on your face as he worked your clit, your channel tightening around him. 

“That’s it,” he panted as you ground your hips back against him when he thrust deep. “Are you close, Beautiful? That perfect little pussy about to come for me?”

You nodded and moaned, one of your hands flying to the bed and tangling in the blanket. 

“Good,” he said, all but breathless. “Need you to come all over me, need to feel you come, need to watch you come. Just let go baby, just come for me.” 

He watched your orgasm take hold half a second before he felt it, your face lost in pleasure, your clit throbbing as he felt you come apart around his cock. 

Joel fought to hold his own orgasm off for at least moment, wanting to enjoy your pleasure for as long as he could. But he didn’t last long, thrusting deep and all but collapsing on top of you as the peak of your climax triggered his own. 

Once he’d come down from his high enough to be able to think, he rolled onto his side and took you with him, still buried deep in you, kissing you gently as he held your face in his hand. 

“I love you, Joel,” you said softly. “I’ve never really said that to anybody but I love you.” 

“I love you,” he said, letting the feeling wash over him as he was so impossibly close to you. “I love you so much.” 

As he fell asleep in your bed with you in his arms, he wasn’t sure he’d ever meant anything more. 

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHH THEY SAID IT!

I just love these two, they're so cute working through their relationship shit. They're getting there, they really are!

Thank you for being here and for following their story. It's been so fun to share with you! Love you!!

[hlficlibrary]

Hey! Do you have any good longer fics that take place in New York? I’m going there tomorrow and wanna set the vibe with my reading.

Hope you’re doing good! And thank you!

Hi, anon! Hope you're getting these recs in time! Have fun in New York and also you're very welcome!

Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

a yuzu grows in brooklyn by @stylinsoncity

harry is a recent implant in new york and a young chef opening a restaurant called yuzu. louis, a music teacher and broadway lover, has been around the block for a while. in a city that's so fast-paced, they're slow to catch on to each other.

Desperation Was My Sanctuary by @insightfulinsomniac

As a PhD student and transplant to New York City, Louis is struggling for both money and companionship. His roommate, Zayn, introduces him to a friend who is involved in New York City's sugar bowl. Reluctantly, he signs up for a sugaring app knowing he’s probably the least conventional sugar baby on the market. If he can find a sugar daddy who will pay his bills without asking him to sacrifice his own preferences and boundaries, he might just be willing to earn a bit of extra cash by faking a relationship with a millionaire.

At the age of 35, Harry’s spent his entire adult life devoted to his career as a fashion designer. With his label, Eroda, steady and flourishing, he finally has time to settle down. When he reflects on his adult life, he realizes that he’s never been in a relationship and therefore feels behind. Shy and insecure in his inexperience, he turns to a sugaring app to manufacture a “test relationship” on his terms.

Turns out, they’re both looking for something unconventional.

A smutty, non-traditional strangers-to-lovers story about finding yourself, friendship, safety, sexual discovery, and an unexpected collision with tender, profound love.

[writtenontheport]

Just a Morning at Portland Row

pt.2 : Just an Afternoon at Portland Row

Finale: Just a Night at Portland Row

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Nothing, just a lot of romcom cheese, Pining, Idiots in Love, Lockwood and Reader don’t really interact in this much, but they do, just not directly, George and Reader friendship, Lucy and Lockwood Friendship, George and Lucy being the lomls

Notes: George being silly, Lockwood doesn’t actually show up until after the cut, Lucy being the loml and being silly, might do a part 2 if I feel like it, sorry if they’re a bit ooc, I haven’t actually written in a while so I might be rusty.

Summary: You don’t live at 35 Portland Row, but you visit daily. Some part of you might be able to make the excuse that you’re doing it simply to make sure your longest childhood friend doesn’t die of self-neglect, but your better majority, and unsurprisingly George Karim and Lucy Carlyle, know better than that.

Word count: 1.6k+

The sound of a whistling kettle flits down the hall, and you quickly pull it off the stove. You listen for a moment telltale footsteps creaking around 35 Portland Row, and are relieved when only silence calls back. It’s too early in the morning for any of them to be awake, if what Lockwood had told you yesterday about another case was true. It seemed so when nobody came down to check on the kettle, and long after, you’d made your tea and settled down on the dining table. You ran your hands over the thinking cloth, pressing on the spaces between the ink and hovering gently where there was any. George’s caricatures of the other two made you giggle, and Lucy’s sarcastic comments tickled you funny. Lockwood’s was especially interesting, because he would write to you as if he was sure you would be reading it.

‘bread in the bread bin about to go bad, try not to eat it’ He’d written, right beside where he’d carefully written your name. The ink on this one was new, so you know he wrote it recently. A chuckle works its way out of you, and you fish a pen from somewhere on the table to write, ‘threw it out already, got you a new loaf’.

You’d always reply to Lockwood wherever and whenever he addressed you, and you wondered if he did it because his fleeting subconscious brought you up like yours did him. A smile wiggled its way to your lips, and you pulled your shoulders back to look down at the cloth.

“You’re already here,” someone said sleepily, the voice familiar as his handwriting. Looking up you spot George sleepily yawning, a palm to his eye and his glasses in his other hand. “Did you make yourself some tea already?”

“I did, might need to put on the kettle again, though. How are you already awake? Lockwood told me you lot were on a case last night somewhere far.” You pulled out of your seat just as George pulled into his, sleepily resting against the thinking cloth.

“He and Lucy dealt with it, as far as I know they came back after I fell asleep,” He said, tapering off into another, shorter, yawn. His curly hair was all over, and he had forgone his trousers again, but you weren’t one to tell him off for it. Often Lockwood would liken it to geniuses and their ‘weird habits’, George being the brains of the agency and all that.

“I saw their coats by the door this morning, dripping all over the floor,” George scoffed at that, picking his head up off the table just to thump it back down, “I mopped it up though, no need to worry.”

He looked grateful, especially as you pushed him a cup of hot tea and a donut.

“Lockwood should marry you for how much you pick up after him alone, at this point. Never mind all the times you guys act like you’re already basically married,” He’d said. Casual as he might have been, you find yourself choking on air.

“It’s not like that,” you cough, brows furrowing as George gives you an exasperated frown, “Come off it, it’s not like that. I doubt he’d… y’know.”

He rolls his eyes and tears off a chunk of donut; you take the out when he chooses to say nothing more. Changing the subject is easy with George, but he often makes pointed statements— when he notices something, he just has to say it.

“You brought some more flowers today, yeah? Are the red carnations for Lockwood?” He’d asked, sipping on his tea, more awake than before. As he ate you’d been rushing about the kitchen cleaning up what you could, so you close the cupboard just as he adds, “Do you reckon he’ll pick up on it this time?”

You freeze where you’re pulling a chair out for yourself, worrying your lip between your teeth. “He hasn’t before. I just… I don’t think he will. Get it, I mean. I just— I don’t know. What do you think, George?”

He hums at you, and shuffles to give you a quick pat on your shoulder. “I think you should just tell him at this point. He’s either being intentionally dense or is just being stupid about it.”

“Has he…” you gesture lamely with your hand, arm propped up on your elbow before you slump back in your seat, “Has he said anything about… maybe, liking me back?”

“He doesn’t need to, he makes it clear enough anyways. He’s always banging on about you,” He says, clearly frustrated. You give him a pointed look he doesn’t break, unimpressed as he always is. You sigh. It’s frustrating, but you know George wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t objectively the truth. “Whatever happens, if you do tell him, it’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

You sit in silence for a while after that, George scribbling on the thinking cloth as the seconds pass on by. An hour into your visit, you pull yourself up and out of your chair and head for the front.

“Tell Lucy and Anthony I said hi, please, George. I’ll be heading off now,” You say from the kitchen doorway, he nods your way with a wave, focused on the thinking cloth.

“Do you want me to tell him—“

“No, thank you, George,” You hissed, cutting him off. A grin finds its way on George’s face just as you run off.

An hour later, Lockwood finds himself in the kitchen just as Lucy’s finishing up her breakfast. George had woken up way earlier and had likely dove back into his research if his absence meant anything; you had been gone for an hour as Lockwood passes the doorway. Lucy’s grin turns teasing and Lockwood slumps into his chair.

“Did you see them before they left?” He asks Lucy, who hums a ‘no’ with a knowing grin as she sets down the papers. She reaches over to his side of the table, tapping on the cloth, before pulling the papers back up to her nose.

Pouring himself a quick cup of tea, Lockwood settles down to find where you’d earlier written ‘threw it out already, got you a new loaf’ and smiles. His hand traces reverently along the curves and lines of your inking, and can’t help his chuckle at the little smiley face at the end.

“What’d they say today?” Lucy asks, folding up her paper and propping up her elbows. Her teasing grin hasn’t once dropped.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He quips, pulling his shoulders back. Lucy doesn’t look willing to let up, wholly bemused.

“I bet you it’s something not at all even funny enough for you look as giddy as you do,” She grins, rushing out of her chair to read it before Lockwood can cover it up. Her jaw drops when she finds it, turning to Lockwood, who’d turned away and refused to meet her eyes.

“Look at you—“ She starts.

“Stop—“

“Giddy over the fact they went and fetched us bread?” Lucy gasps, wholeheartedly teasing Lockwood as he fumbles for words. Oh, if only you were here so she could do the same to you. “Like a schoolboy, you are, yeah?”

“Lucy,” he groans, hiding his face in his hands as he dumps his head on the table, “It’s not like that— I just. It’s a kind gesture, alright?”

“George makes us dinner everyday but you don’t kick your feet and giggle when he writes to you on the thinking cloth do you?” She goads, relishing in the way Lockwood looks up to glare.

“George calls me a dick when he writes to me on the thinking cloth,” He pauses just as your name runs out his mouth, frown softening, “They wouldn’t do that.”

Lucy rolls her eyes as she stands up, bringing her cup to the sink. Her hair is combed, but she’s still in pyjamas, so it’s likely she’s just woken up too. Lockwood reckons she hadn’t caught your visit, but he asks anyways. Lucy shakes her head just as she settles back down in her chair.

“Ask George, he probably woke up early enough.” She takes a generous bite out of her toast, the crunch of it waking Lockwood up. Last night had been exhausting, but luckily they’d gotten it under wraps. Lucy headed straight up to bed when they got home, but Lockwood had stopped by the kitchen to write you a note on the cloth just before he scrambled up the stairs to his room and passed out in his bed. George had been quiet when they got back, so Lucy was most likely right. Lucy shoves a plate of cheese on toast his way, and he takes it gratefully.

“I’ll just ask him later,” He says around a mouth full of toast. “Have you seen George today, actually?”

Lucy’s grin widens into something mischievous and cheshire, but she tucks it in quickly and simply hums an affirmative. Lockwood narrows his eyes at her, and she looks away.

“Whatever you two talked about—“

“Nothing!” She cut in, holding her hands up. “George says they left you flowers though, red carnations.”

Lockwood feels his breath escape him at the thought— you bringing him flowers? Damn his sleep schedule, he would have woken early just to see you give them yourself if he’d known. The thought of you and your care for him leaves him warm and defenceless; vulnerable in all the ways only you can make him. It’s so so sweet it has him pushing a hand on his lips to stop his grin from splitting his whole face open.

“God,” Lucy laughs, watching him with unfettered amusement, “You—“

“Where did George put them?” He cuts her off, earning a laugh at the grin he can’t hold back. Some part of him wants to make the excuse that he’s this happy and giddy because of how kind a gesture it is, but more than a majority of him knows that’s just not true.

When Lockwood finds the flowers in the library, he knows even in the deepest recesses of his denial and ache, that it’s not the kind gesture leaving him helplessly lost in love with you. Now if only he could find a way to admit that to your face.

A/N: Sorry if this isn’t the best, kinda just let my brain write and lightly edited it after.

[goodpointsandbadpoints]

35?

hi silver! 🫡 one 35 coming right up.

Pairing: chreon (platonic kind of?), and background ensemble.

35: running your finger down their spine (prompts)

-

Chris yawns and rolls over, noticing how the air is already growing warm so early in the morning. It will probably shape up to be another exhausting day on the trail. 

The tent is small, and there’s only a space the size of a person between him and Leon.

The man’s sleeping bag had been unzipped in the night, but only for one of his legs to crook and poke his foot out. His back is a flat expanse facing Chris.

Is he sleeping with his arms tucked to his chest? He always has. He sleeps like he’s guarding himself, like he’s turning away and taking rest from the world. 

Chris sits up as quietly as he can. 

“Leon?” he murmurs. The sun is going to rise. They need to start out soon; they slept in today.

In response, Leon’s side rises and falls in a loud, waking breath. Then he settles again.

Okay, so he needs to be woken up, that’s fine. But Chris knows that startling anyone on this team could get him a black eye for his troubles—the socket still tender from sneaking up on Jill unintentionally. 

So he wakes him in distant, parallel ways, like a train coming through the valley in the morning. He unzips his bag and rolls it up. He unwraps an energy bar. He picks up a bag from the wrong end and has to put away everything when it falls out onto the ground. This was not meant to happen, but it seems to be the final needed push to rouse Leon.

“S’going on?” he slurs, raising his head. He blinks up at the tent canopy. There’s a hint of daylight falling across the panel. 

“We’re getting a late start today. Hope you enjoyed that extra hour,” Chris says, smiling. 

“Mmrgh.” Leon buries his face in his pillow. 

Chris laughs softly. Outside the tent walls, he hears the bright sounds of zipping and shuffling, and he knows the others are waking up. 

Not much time to waste, then. Rebecca is a kind research lead, but she also follows her color-coded schedule like it’s the word of god. He’d like to avoid another pep talk. 

“C’mon, on your feet,” he says. He steps back over to Leon and crouches to rub his back, vigorous with his flat palms. Should get some life back into him. 

Leon complains with a high noise in his throat. 

“Busy day today.”

“Bleugh. Again?”

“Yep. We’ll have a rest tomorrow.”

Leon groans and pushes himself upright. His hair falls messily around his face.

He’s so much more tired than Chris thought he’d be; he always seemed so aware and alert at meetings, in the few times a month when Chris had the chance to interact. It turns out that it takes a bit of time to work up to alertness.

It's kind of endearing. It’s also ironic. Now they’re finally on the trip, where they rise before the sun and immediately get back on the trail. 

It seems like he’s getting closer to being fully awake. Chris will get a water bottle ready for him, with one of those caffeine packets stirred in. 

Before he does, he squeezes the back of Leon’s neck and smooths out the back of his shirt, then he stands. “Think there’s one more of the cookie bars,” he says. “Could be yours if you get up before Piers.”

“Asshole already had two,” Leon grumbles. He starts kicking out of his sleeping bag and brushing his hair out of his face. “Those are the only good ones.”

Right on time, they both hear a laugh in the other tent—some startlingly bright conversation happening so early—and Leon sighs harshly. 

“Fucking morning people.”

(collection on ao3)

[vesarcanus-if]

Demo: 9/6/23

Your parents are the biggest Vampire mobsters in Vas Arcanus and are the heads of the notorious Florentia Family. On your 25th birthday, your parents gift you with an important role in the family: running Blood Bank, their nightclub and base of operations. Unfortunately, a few years ago your first love, a burlesque dancer at Blood Bank, was murdered. The culprit was never found …supposedly. With your new position within the Ves Arcanus Underground, maybe you can finally find answers and serve justice or revenge.

In the city of Ves Arcanus, you’ll encounter Supernaturals of several different species and work alongside the most powerful families in organized crime: the Arcanus Six. The Six includes the Florentia Family, the Lombardi Family, the Seth Family, the De Mevius Family, the Sundale Family, and the Vatura Family.

Demo Features:

Play as male, female, nonbinary, or transgender; gay, straight, or bisexual.

Navigate organized crime within the Ves Arcanus Underground, and maintain the Florentia’s infamous reputation or run it into the ground.

Work to solve the “cold case” murder of your first love and choose to be judge, jury, or executioner.

Run a popular Vampire nightclub and keep the cops, and your rivals, from sniffing around.

Play as a Vampire in a city inhabited by Faeries, Selkies, Witches, Demons, and humans.

Romance or befriend one of the six gender-selectable RO’s and choose to hook up* with seven of the many side characters

Content Warnings (18+): drug and alcohol use, violence, blood, strong language, optional explicit sexual content, death/murder

Lisa/Leon Whitlock, 27- Faerie

A young director who got lucky and stayed lucky, Whitlock could be your way into important Faerie circles. They’re fun, sweet, and adventurous enough to sneak around with you given the right motivation. Like all artists, they’re unpredictable and don’t seem quite ready to settle down yet.

Alessia/Alessandro “Ale” Lombardi, 30- Vampire

The eldest child and former heir of the Lombardi Family, Ale is no stranger to crime, intimidation, and violence. They’ve used their family’s influence to fund a political career and leave mob life behind, supposedly. They take some time to warm up but are a loyal friend and lover once they do.

Charlotte/Charles “Charlie” Cole, 35- Cambion

After a rough childhood, Charlie became a cop to help troubled youth like them. They don’t love being a cop, but they feel it’s the best way they can help kids. Charlie has turned their life around, but maybe you can persuade them to break the rules for you.

Serafina/Sero De Mevius, 24- Witch

A spoiled rich kid with an Ivy league education, De Mevius isn’t like most mobsters you know. They have an air of mystery and don’t really seem to care about upholding their family’s name. They love to spend their dads’ money on parties, charities, and maybe on you too.

Dion Parker, 25- Dragonkin (half dragon/half human)

Your friend since high school, Dion is just along for the ride as you look for answers. Whether they agree with your methods, Dion sticks around to hopefully keep you out of trouble. Your parents trust them to keep books at the club so they’re always nearby.

Eliana/Elio “El” Rivera, 28- Unknown

El will do most anything for a story, especially when it keeps them alive and out of jail. They are fearless and stubborn as a bull, but that may be a front to hide how alone they feel in Ves Arcanus. El has eyes and ears everywhere in Ves Arcanus, but can you get close enough to learn their secrets?

Sam (they/them) early 20s, Witch*

Tall, lean with some muscle, very short curly brown hair, warm brown skin with vitiligo | A Kitchen Witch from a civilian family on the outskirts of Ves Arcanus.

Jewels (she/her) mid 20s, Fastus (Pride Demon)*

Short, curvaceous, waist length straight black hair, honey brown skin (Indian) | One of Lamia’s top spies.

Tisa (he/him) early 30s, Faerie*

Moderate height, muscular, buzzcut black hair and stubble, light tan skin (Korean) | Lives in Neráida Forest, a friend of Alvina Sundale.

Vance (he/him) late 20s, Vampire*

Somewhat tall, some muscles, short black hair usually slicked back, olive skin | A regular at Blood Bank, he’s had a crush on you for years.

Lamia (she/her) mid 50s, Succubus*

Short, slim, shoulder length blonde hair, pale skin | Former head of the Seth Family, now the most infamous spymistress in Ves Arcanus.

Honey (she/they, transfem) late 30s, Faerie*

Tall, lithe but curvy, long brown hair, tan skin (Brazilian) | Lives in an apartment not far from Neráida Forest.

Jennifer/Jensen Albright (gender selectable) 25, Dhampir*

Long/short black hair, fair skin, septum piercing | Your Right Hand as the Florentia Family heir.

Jeanette Heart, mid 40’s, Vampire

Moderate height, fair skin, shoulder length blonde hair, brown eyes | Your therapist last for the 3 years.

Sebastian De Mevius, 24, Witch

Tall, curly dark brown hair, light brown skin, brown eyes | S. De Mevius’ twin brother and De Mevius Family heir.

Billy Marston, early 50’s, Demon

Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, stubble | El’s editor.

Georgina, mid 20’s, Vampire

Average height, blonde hair, grey eyes | Bartender at Blood Bank.

[casual-video-transcripts]

"Triple Frontier - Movie Snacks" by Triple Frontier Facebook

Original captions by Triple Frontier (Official Facebook Channel)

Edited and Time-stamped transcript by @ casual-video-transcripts is under the cut

[0:00] [Text on screen: MOVIE SNACKS]

[0:01] [Text on screen: EATING]

[0:02] [Text on screen: MOVIE SNACKS]

[0:03] [Text on screen: WITH THE CAST OF]

[0:04] [Text on screen: TRIPLE FRONTIER]

[0:05] [Text on screen: BRAZILIAN BREAD]

[0:06] [Text on screen: BRAZIL]

[0:06] Charlie Hunnam: Pass the smell test?

[0:07] Oscar Isaac: They’re really good when they’re a little warm.

[0:09] [Text on screen: CHILLY MANGO]

[0:10] [Text on screen: MEXICO]

[0:10] Charlie: What is this?

[0:11] Garrett Hedlund: Did you go for it?

[0:12] Oscar: Goat tongue.

[0:13] Charlie: Woah.

[0:14] Ben Affleck: It’s got a weird like 

[0:15] sweet and 

[0:17] peppery thing or something.

[0:18] I don’t know.

[0:19] Oscar: What a refined palette.

[0:20] [Pedro laughs and falls backwards onto Oscar’s shoulder.]

[0:20] [Text on screen: NOODLE SNACK]

[0:22] [Text on screen: MALAYSIA]

[0:23] Charlie: Do you just eat like this?

[0:24] I don’t need any water?

[0:25] Oscar: Do you want this?

[0:26] Ben: It does taste like 

[0:27] with hot water.

[0:27] Garrett: Quite the trickers.

[0:29] [Text on screen: STROOPWAFEL]

[0:30] [Text on screen: NETHERLANDS]

[0:31] Garrett: How long do we get to do this for?

[0:32] [Oscar wheezing out a laugh.]

[0:33] [Text on screen: SAMOSA]

[0:34] [Text on screen: INDIA]

[0:35] Charlie: That is a good samosa!

[0:36] Pedro Pascal: Yeah it is good.

[0:38] Ben: I’m eating it. I’m eating it.

[0:39] Pedro: This is good.

[0:40] [Text on screen: COCONUT RICE]

[0:40] [Text on screen: THAILAND]

[0:42] Charlie: Oh now we’re talking.

[0:43] A little coconut rice.

[0:44] Pedro: I just want to say that

[0:45] I’ve tried all of these before.

[0:46] [Oscar shoves a spoon full of coconut rice in Pedro's mouth.]

[0:47] [Ding.]

[0:48] Pedro: Well that was fun.

[0:50] Don’t forget to check out 

[0:51] Triple Frontier on Netflix.

[0:53] [Text on screen: TRIPLE FRONTIER ONLY ON NETFLIX]

[0:54] Pedro: I’m not cleaning any of those tasty snacks up.

End of transcript

Video Description: Snacks on Snacks.

Disclaimer: None of the videos I transcribe belong to me. They belong to the content creators and the crew behind the videos. Please keep in mind that my transcripts may not be 100% as I am not a professional. I'm just someone who wants to provide video transcripts for people to understand and enjoy these videos. For this video, I focused the speaker and the on-screen text.

If there are any corrections you would like me to make, let me know in the comment section of the post or through my ask box.

If you like this video or any other videos from the Triple Frontier Facebook page, feel free to check them out in the link above.

Personal Notes: Yep, I'm back!

I was trying to find an official one where Garrett did the closing where he called the movie, "The Triple Frontier", instead. I couldn't find it besides this compilation video made by Hollywood Celebrity World on YouTube which I am still grateful for. However, I decided to transcribe this version from the movie's official Facebook page where Pedro does the closing and it has captions imbedded in the video. I'm mainly doing this for my reference.

The mera video transcription is a-coming. My IRL stuff is somewhat settling down a bit. I'll catch you all in the next post.

[gibuckaroo]

i’ve been toying with the idea of a time travelling buck fic recently, and this whole business with i love you to the core is playing with my feelings because then,

i can imagine an older buck, probably 35, definitely more settled and comfortable and secure and because he can’t really control where he goes (or maybe he does, doesn’t matter yet) he finds himself with an 8 year old evan. and he’s bruised up with scrapes on his knees and it’s the fifth time this month and it’s been a year since he found out he can somehow gain his parents’ attention this way, but lately it doesn’t feel as good. the pizzas they would buy him, the ice creams after, the smile his mom would give him. it’s not worth all the blood and scratches, at least not all the time. he’s just a kid and he’s needy, he’ll get what he can.

but buck travels to this specific time, to this specific version of himself and he hasn’t time travelled yet, no, so young evan doesn’t know it’s him, but he remembers. he remembers as 8 year old evan how 35 year old buck comes to him, and now he’s that buck. and he feels overwhelmed. he feels like he could drown, but he won’t because he can save himself.

so he lets himself sit beside evan on the curb next to their house. he lets the kid talk his ear off about a new bike, and when he asks about his bloody knee, evan looks down ashamed. but he knows, and he’s prepared so he brings out a gauze and a cream he found much much later on that works so amazing on him. and the kid looks up at him grateful and he can see the doubt, the insecurity, the questions of why he was even here and he can’t wait for him to know that someday, someone’s going to love him to the core. someone’s going to know him deep down on what makes him him and they’re going to love him. all of him, all of the parts he thinks are too much, all of the parts he thinks are defective—he’s still going to love you, evan. love us.

[twilghtkoo]

hiiiii!!!! how are you? sooooo i don't know if u are taking requests but could u write abt s/o being a sooooo excited for the last of us series and haechan not being aware of it with the prompt 35????

love foolish

pairings. haechan x (f) reader

genre. fluff

warnings. mentions of guns and zombies

prompts. #35 “i thought you dont’t like horror games?”

note. i love this request!!!! i also freaking love the last of us, game and tv series :D i’m doing ok anon ty for asking,, i hope u enjoy this and take care <33

prompt list | series masterlist | taglist

—

haechan is sprawled out on the couch after taking a shower, occupying all the space. he’s mindlessly on his phone, tapping away in the group chat with his older members. you’re finishing up your night time skin care routine, applying your cherry flavored chapstick to your dry lips.

curse the cold weather.

you turn the light off and exit the bathroom as you make your way down the hall to the living room. haechan senses you in the corner of his eyes, turning his head to look at you.

“so sexy.” he dreamily says, eyeing you up and down as you slide your feet over towards him. you’re dressed in your usual night attire, sweats and one of his t-shirts.

smirking, you poke your ass at him, immediately regretting it when his hand makes contact with your cheek.

you hiss in pain, pouting as your rub the stinging area, turning around to do the same to him but he manages to reach over and soothingly rub your ass.

“sorry bubs,” he sheepishly smiles.

you nudge his leg with your knee. “scoot over.”

he frowns, “lie on top of me.”

you sigh, even though you know that’s what you’d end up doing anyways.

you grab your tv remote before settling yourself on top of haechan’s chest, the top of your head in the crook of his neck. one of his arms are lazily wrapped around your waist and your legs entangled with his underneath your throw blanket.

“so what’re we watching again?” he questions.

you’re trying to find the app on your home screen, you had recently bought the hbo app for your tv, solely for the purpose of the most anticipated show that came out last night that you’ve been waiting for for years. purposely ignoring your phone for any spoilers because people like you– except they’re not late– have watched it on the release date.

but you and haechan haven’t watched anything that’s new, together, so you had brought up you wanted to watch something with him tonight. since, yesterday he was busy with his friends back home.

“the last of us, it came out last night and i’m so fucking excited. it’s a post-apocalyptic survival show based off of the video game.” you excitedly, explained to him.

you finally find the app, clicking on it as you patiently wait for it to load.

“ohh, really? is it like a horror game? zombies and guns?”

you nod, “yeah, it’s a horror game. zombies and guns, yes. and there’s also clickers which is the scariest of the infected. i really hate the sound they make, you’ll see soon.”

“i thought you don’t like horror games?”

you hum, “i don’t. but i saw this youtuber that came up on my recommendation play it and then an hour later i ended up watching an entire gameplay of both the first and second game an entire night.” you laugh to yourself.

haechan gasps, “wahh, why have you never told me this?” haechan knows you have a dislike towards scary video games, but strongly more playing them than watching them.

you shrug your shoulders, “this was before i had met you. i won’t play the game though, only watch it. i’d watch you play it though if you ever play it.”

he takes a mental note. you seem to be very interested in this television adaption of a video game. so he has to look up how he can play the game later on.

“i’m excited.” haechan admits softly.

“me too.” you press play, dropping the remote on the floor in arms reach and getting cozy on top of your boyfriend as the episode starts playing.

“so? what’d you think?” you eagerly ask, sitting up on his waist in a straddling position while he’s still lying down. wanting to hear about haechan’s review on your show. you had brought this show up to haechan, knowing he’s into these kinds of shows, but anxious that he won’t enjoy since it’s an american show in english.

“even though it was just the first episode, i’m hooked. i enjoyed it baby.” he tells you honestly, smiling.

you squeal, “me too! now we have to wait a whole week.” you let out a fake sob, plopping your upper half onto haechan’s chest.

“if you got infected i would let you bite me so we can both be zombies.”

you frown, raising your head up to rest your chin on his chest. “but then we’d have no memory of each other.”

he pouts too, “oh yeah. then, you go down, i go down.” the emotional scenes from the first episode are hitting you again and haechan seems to notice so he changes the topic.

“sunday we should order pizza while watching it.” he suggests, fiddling with your soft hands.

“sundays?” you hold up your pinky in front of his face.

“sundays.” he promises.

—

taglist! @neosdaisy @m_1kaellUh @n0hyuck @matchahyuck send an ask or message to be removed :) or fill out the google form to be added !

[magicandpizza]

For the wesper writing prompts, can you do #8 (shielding the other with their body) and/or #35 (kissing scars/bruises)? Thank you!!

Hello there! Thank you for playing! I just did a bit of 35 in my last one, so here is 8 for you!

8. shielding the other with their body

It should’ve been easy. Get into the warehouse by the docks, locate the barrels of red phosphorus destined for the Razorgulls and their new demo guy, load them into the wagon Rotty has waiting round the back and get out of there. 

But it’s never fucking easy. Someone talked, or someone overheard something, a whisper, a murmur, and they’re only just starting to load up the barrels when a group of Razorgulls emerge from the shadows. 

Jesper’s just glad that for once it isn’t his fault. 

They’re vastly outnumbered though, just him, Wylan and Matthias against at least ten Razorgulls, maybe more still lurking somewhere. Jesper manages to take two out when the fighting begins, and Matthias another. Wylan shouts a warning, and Jesper has just enough time to duck for cover and shield his eyes before there’s an explosion and a blinding flash of light. It gives them time to hide amongst the stacks of crates and barrels in the warehouse, but so do the Razorgulls. The acrid smell of the phosphorus from Wylan’s bomb combined with the salty tang of the sea air is enough to make Jesper’s eyes water, and he swipes the back of his hand across his eyes, squinting through the clearing smoke to try and make out any signs of movement. 

Wylan is to his left, crouched behind a stack of boxes by the stairs that lead up to a wooden walkway around the perimeter of the warehouse and connect to another doorway, presumably an office of some kind. The wood looks old and damp from the proximity to the sea, Jesper’s not sure he’d want to risk putting his weight onto the steps, but Wylan is well hidden like this. 

On Jesper’s right is Matthias, his hulking frame just about visible from this angle. Movement catches Jesper’s eye, and he squeezes off a shot, reaching out with his power to guide the bullet where he wants it to go. There’s a yelp and the sound of a body hitting the floor, and then the fighting starts again. Everything narrows down to the weight of his revolvers in his hands, the zing of bullets, the blaze of an explosion. Matthias is out of ammo, wrestling with two men at once. Jesper manages to take one down before he’s caught off guard by a sound behind him, almost ending up with a bullet through his skull but saved by Wylan throwing a vial of some kind of acid directly into his attacker’s eyes. Wylan ducks back into his hiding place as soon as he knows Jesper is okay, until the only Razorgull standing is the stubborn bastard grappling with Matthias. 

With a final shove, Matthias sends him flying, directly into the wooden support beams of the walkway with a sickening crunch. Jesper looks up from the crumpled body as the rotting wood creaks and starts to splinter, the walkway peeling away from the wall and swaying. The walkway under which Wylan is hiding, rooted to the spot.

Jesper doesn’t think, he just throws himself at Wylan, drags him as far away as he can and then down, down onto the floor, covering him with his own body as the entire walkway comes crashing down around them.

When the debris settles, Wylan is blinking up at him, wide-eyed and terrified, face streaked with dirt. 

“Jes,” he croaks, then coughs at the dust lodged in his throat. “Saints, are you alright?” 

Jesper kneels back, brushes off the worst of the dirt. “Yeah, I think so.” He helps Wylan up into a sitting position. “Maybe a little bruised.” 

“Wylan, sorry!” Matthias calls, picking his way through the rubble towards them. “I did not think that would happen.” He offers them both a hand and pulls them back to their feet. 

“It’s fine, we’re okay,” says Wylan, taking Jesper’s hand firmly in his own and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

Jesper pulls him in close with an arm around his shoulders, kisses his dusty forehead. “Come on, let’s get out of here before the Stadwatch arrives.” 

[thana-topsy]

hi!! 35 or 49 for elenwen/tullius? they’re fucked up and intriguing and I’ve seen a lot of art for them from one artist but I’m curious how you’d write them. thank you!!!

Y'know, I'm with you. This ship is very intriguing and has a certain allure to it. This one is definitely on the raunchier side compared to the rest, but I tried to keep the language vague enough for tumblr standards. Thanks for the suggestion!!

---

Elenwen x Tullius "A kiss out of necessity." (599 words)

It was a necessary evil, he reminded himself. 

War itself was little more than a necessary evil upon which the axis of the world spun. The threat of destruction, sweetened by the promise of an end to it all. If war could end, he was sure it would have ended by now. Every day, as new recruits marched into Solitude, young men and women, pink and callow, he signed their lives over to the cause. He could not read their names, his eyes glazing over the myriad lists with practiced detachment, but he did look into their eyes, finding optimism, righteousness. He prayed the volunteers would continue to trickle in, as drafted soldiers carried no such spark behind their eyes. 

A necessary evil.

The gold skins that patrolled the roads were ghosts haunting his steps. He would see the faces of long-dead soldiers beneath their hoods. Flashes of expression devoid of humanity. Unquestioning loyalty; perfectly molded indoctrination. Despite it all, he found their cause both tenacious and baffling. How could one, with centuries of life left to live, march unquestioningly into their own death? 

Then again, to express doubt was a vile and mannish quality, or so he’d been told. 

“You question your own cause, even?” 

“I do not question my cause. My cause is much narrower in scope.”

Elenwen tutted, sliding a hand along his bare chest, her long fingers trailing through the sparse graying hair. “Having your own agenda in these times is unwise, but I’m sure you already know that.”

She was beautiful and hideous—elongated features and too-large irises that reflected his own expression back at him like a warped mirror. One of her long, smooth legs moved against his, her knee hitching along the inside of his thigh. Every muscle in her body was lean and coiled, and he wanted to sink his teeth into her until she begged. Yet he was often the one begging when all was said and done. 

He’d invited a predator into his bed, and he found that he couldn’t stop. 

She pushed upright to straddle his hips, her pale hair framing her face like a halo as she leaned over him, the kohl around her eyes smudged like war paint. The heat between her legs pulsed against his own, and he groaned, tipping his head back and gripping her thighs. Her mouth was on his throat, one hand sliding between their bodies to guide him in until they were joined. 

She used her height to her advantage. He felt like a moth pinned to a board when she rode him—helpless, his hands fluttering anywhere they could reach, tracing the lines of her stomach, cupping her breasts, pulling her down for kiss after kiss after kiss. She’d always pull away when he was close, finishing him with her hand until he spilled across his own hips with a shudder and a sharp gasp. Then she’d settle herself over his face, and he’d devour her like a man starved until she was shaking, holding onto the headboard like a drowning sailor clinging to the wreckage of her ship. He shoved his tongue into her mouth when they kissed next, forcing her to taste herself. 

See what you do to me? Was winning the war not enough?

Tullius hated her. He hated himself for allowing any of it. Yet somehow he’d wandered too far off the road, lost his sense of direction, and the hatred had turned to worship along the way. And he supposed that’s exactly what the golden elves wanted out of men.

A necessary evil, he reminded himself.

[justanotherboringwriter]

||Something Stupid.||

Summary; Kano has to go and spoil it all and say something stupid like “I love you”.

A/N; my scrunkly scrimbos!!!! They’re the sole reason I adore the “I hate you (not really)”, tired x energetic, cocky x unimpressed, and “They don’t know I love them, if they did, they’d reject me.” “I know they love me and I love them too.” Dynamic,,,,,

Word count; 896.

Kano sat beside Erron. They were sharing his bed as Erron recovered from a recent mission, covered in bandaged scraps, bruises, and cuts. Erron was facing his boss, sleeping peacefully, with his cowboy hat on the headboard. Kano looked to the hat, remembering

Kano took Erron’s hat, placing it on his own head. “Look, I’m a Jackaroo!” He chuckled, smiling brightly as he adjusted the hat and tilted it back, a hand on his hip. “Am I a good-lookin’ Jackaroo?” He raised a brow jokingly, posing a bit as Erron stood unimpressed, his arms crossed before he strolled over to the much younger man.

“A Jackaroo? English, Kano.” He teased.

“A cowboy, of course. What else?” Kano tilted his head as Erron shook his head. “Well, you sure are a handsome ‘Jackaroo’. But you’d certainly not be a good one–Bet you’d upset the livestock.” Erron replied, taking his hat back and placing it on his head before brushing Kano’s hair down. “Now you just look crazy though I guess you are, yeah?” He added. Kano chuckled, “At least I know I’d make all the Jillaroo’s swoon! That’s female cowboy for you, Red.” Kano responded. He called Erron ‘Red’ as a reference to The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

He loved teasing the man because he was a cowboy but in all honesty, when he was younger, he’d always adored cowboys. It was his first introduction into the world of male attraction and being around a true cowboy who’d lived through the era of The Wild West was absolutely ecstatic.

He remembered bombarding Erron with questions about ‘How to be a true cowboy’ for a Halloween costume but he really just wanted to hear stories from Erron’s time.

He pitied him, yes, since they both had shit families. Though Erron’s bad family history was more public while nobody knew Kano’s past. He was abandoned as a baby on the side of the New Mexico road, was taken by a couple, and brought to Australia to live what he called ‘The 16 years of Hell’. Eventually, he ran away at 16 but not before killing both of them. He couldn’t kill Basil, his at-the-time baby sister, so he cleaned himself up and gave her to a group of neighborhood boys with instructions to “Bring her to some adults” before leaving the trailer park and never looking back.

He still had nightmares from those 16 years, even now at 35.

Kano reached over and pulled Erron close, hugging him. “I missed ya, Erron..Why’d ya even leave in the first place? Know how much I depend on you. You’re my second-in-command, you idiot.” Kano muttered, rubbing Erron’s back lovingly and placing a kiss on his head.

Erron stirred, groaning and mumbling something under his breath. Kano froze, panicking and trying to figure out what to do before the mercenary woke up. Erron looked up with lidded eyes, surrounded by many decades of dark eye shadow, “Boss?” He sat up, now leaning onto his boss and putting his hands at Kano’s sides. Kano stuttered, embarrassed and nervous. “Go back to bed, Black. ‘s not mornin’ yet. You should get s’more sleep, y’look like shit.” The Australian said.

“So what if it ain’t mornin’? ‘m more focused on what you were doin’ huggin’ me like I was your favorite teddy bear.” Erron responded, sitting back on Kano’s lap and making his boss tense up even more. Kano sighed, “Just wanted to hold ya, is that so bad? You’re one of my favorite mercenaries, I can’t hold you for a little bit?” He grumbled. Erron chuckled.

He settled his head on Kano’s chest. “If ya wanted a lil cuddlin’, could’ve told me, boss. I don’t mind–Bein’ an outlaw gets lonely.”

Kano relaxed, wrapping an arm around Erron and rubbing up and down his back slowly and gently, as if he were trying to comfort Erron. “For such a ruthless man, you sure are a lover. Never heard of a lover and a fighter..” The cowboy chuckled tiredly. “You sound exhausted, Black. Try ‘n get some sleep.” “M’kay..” He sighed, getting comfortable on Kano’s chest.

Erron closed his eyes, his arms wrapped around Kano’s chest as Kano pulled a blanket over them, stroking Erron’s hair and giving him another kiss on the head.

There were a few seconds of silence–Silent contemplation from Kano.

“Erron?” He spoke softly, nervous.

“Mhm? I’m listenin’, big guy.”

“I love you.”

Silence.

Erron sat up and gave Kano a kiss. “Finally got the confidence, hm? Took ya long enough.” He smiled lazily. “You knew?” “Basically since I got here. I see how you look at everybody else compared to how you look at me; all soft and lovely-dovey. Followin’ me like a love-sick puppy, always tryna take up all my attention with those rants and questions.” He brushed his hair back, sitting up a bit to look Kano directly in the eyes. “You’re not as subtle as you think.” He added.

Kano put his hands on Erron’s hips, his thumbs stroking his waist. “So, you wouldn’t mind bein’ my boyfriend then?” He asked a bit meekly. Erron nodded, “Sure.” “Good..Can I get another pash?” Erron raised a brow, “Kiss?” “Mhm. Kiss.” Erron leaned down and kissed Kano again, then peppering his face with kisses.

Kano chuckled, his cheeks reddening.

He was a damn lucky man. “Love you boss.” “Love ya too, Red.”

[valaruakars]

I'm so happy you opened up prompts. Don't worry about poor time management; life is too short to fret! Work on your own schedule and do what makes you happy. 😘

Always casually pulls up in your inbox like a Mcdonald's drive-thru.

*taps on mic* Can I get a uhhhh number 35 with perhaps pervy Viktor? 🥴

Uhhhh yeah, pull around 👍

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Viktor x AFAB Reader, unethical student/teacher relationship, masturbation, finger sucking

It’s not weird that you’re waiting for him in his office. Viktor lets you do that sometimes. Sorry, Professor Viktor. He’s generous that way, so that you might work comfortably while you pass the time. Generous in a way you’re not sure he is with anyone else, but perhaps it’s only hubris to presume that you’re special.

It gets a little weird, though, when you have the horrible thought to lock the door behind you. Weirder, when you settle into the fine leather chair at his desk and let your thighs inch wider as the pressure builds and the cling of cotton between your legs feels distinctly wetter. He’s not due out of class for at least twenty more minutes…

You have time.

Time to arrange your latest research results to show him, yes, but first… Time to slip the button of your pants through the eyelet, to shimmy them scantly down your hips. Oh yes, you have plenty of time to touch yourself in his office, just as you’ve fantasized about ever since he first spoke your name and called your work inspired.

Your head tips back against the chair as two of your fingers drag up the sticky seam of you, and it’ll be quick, you think. Scratch that—you know it’ll be quick, because you’re imagining that they’re his when you roll your hips into your hand and slip them inside you. In and out in quick, panting flicks of your wrist, your clit catches the heel of your palm over and over and over. Your teeth bite blunt into your lower lip as you imagine, too, how he might coo for you to be a good girl and keep quiet. Wouldn’t want anyone catching an academy professor with his hand between the legs of a student, now would we?

The sensation, the risk, the deviance—it all sets your nerves alight and you are so close, so quickly. The brink is right there, but, well, so is the sound of a key sliding into a lock.

You scramble to wipe your dirty fingers on the inside of your pants and pull them up properly. They’re not even buttoned all the way and there he is. Early, for fuck’s sake. He’s never early!

His eyes are pretty and wide and a little too searching for comfort when they fall on you, but at least he smiles.

“Hi,” is all you can say with your thick, stupid tongue and something in the way he’s looking at you changes.

His eyes sharpen like he’s running a calculation. You plus a locked door, plus an utterly disheveled appearance equals…

He huffs a quiet laugh as he closes the door behind him. And, wait… Was that the bolt of the lock?

“Good afternoon,” he says, ever casual as he comes closer. To put his things down, of course, why are you panicking? He’s too polite, too sweet to suspect you’ve been so vile, but he’s got that smug spark in his eye. The one he gets when he knows he’s done his math right. “Apologies if I’ve kept you waiting. May I see your hand?”

You nearly choke. “My what?”

“Your hand, please.” And because he’s smart, smarter than you, he specifies: “The dominant one.”

You pray it’s not still wet when you place it in his waiting hand, though that doesn’t really matter in the end. Not when he takes it with that wicked little smile and makes sure you’re watching when he kisses the knuckles that you’d sunk all the way inside yourself. He inhales deeply against your skin, and your heart nearly stops.

“So… You touch yourself to the thought of me?” he asks, his voice low and utterly pleased.

You can’t stop watching, awe-struck and throbbing, when he draws two fingers into the warm, wet clutch of his mouth for a taste. For confirmation, because apparently the way you whispered, “Yes,” wasn’t quite enough.

He’s nothing but thorough, cleaning the lingering salty sweetness off your skin with lewd, slick noises as the color deepens along his cheeks, and a prominent strain in his slacks becomes very noticeable.

He pulls off and cradles your hand close, eyes molten.

“I’d like to see that in action.”