#everyone talks about that half time break like it was a the worst thing ever oh my god

[ikram1909]

Rodri gave an interview to AS and he talked about Gavi ☹️

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured V

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: The next day

The day that Alba takes you is the worst day of Alexia's life which says a lot.

For a long time, the worst day of her life was tearing her ACL, the time before that was when her father died but even those moments have been taken over by Alba taking you away from her.

Alexia slept outside your bedroom door that night, adamant that you would open it when you thought everyone was in bed. She didn't have much of a plan after that apart from grabbing you before you noticed her and not letting you go ever again.

But you don't open your door until Alba arrives early the next day.

You shrug off Alexia when she tries to reach for you, whining and crying until Alba picks you up. You're still in yesterday's clothes and no matter how much Alexia begs, you don't even acknowledge that she's speaking to you.

Alba doesn't talk to her either and both sisters are caught in a standoff that forces Olga to pack your bag.

No word is spoken by either you or Alba even as Alexia rants and raves and begs until the front door swings shut behind you.

That's when she really breaks down, crumbling to the floor as she sobs.

Your bedroom door is left open and Alexia can peer inside, clearly seeing where you've destroyed things last night.

Your trains are knocked over. Your ballet pumps are strewn around the room. Your bedsheets and pillows are bundled up in your wardrobe like you slept in there last night rather than your bed.

There was a picture of you and Alexia that lived on your bedside table. You're a newborn in it, lying on Alexia's chest. The labour had been gruelling - thirteen long hours - and Alexia's face is all red. You're red too but completely content. The picture's lived there for as long as Alexia can remember until now.

It lies on the floor, the frame completely broken and unsalvageable. The picture is ruined too, a big rip right down the middle until one half features just Alexia and the other half features you.

"Ale," Olga says softly," I'm...I'm going to call you in sick, okay?"

Alexia shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "No," She insists," I'm going in to train."

"Ale-"

"No."

The radio doesn't get turned on when Alexia drives to her recovery session. She drives in silence, stewing about it all as she pulls into the car park.

It's clear to everyone that she's in a mood which is a little strange seeing as they won the Copa De La Reina last night. No one seems to want to approach.

No one except Mapi, despite Ingrid's hushed warnings.

"So, which one did she choose?"

The words shock Alexia, who nearly drops her shirt. "What?"

Mapi frowns. "Did you not let her choose this time? That's so mean, Ale. Did she at least like the one you got her?"

"Mapi, what are you talking about?"

Mapi rolls her eyes. "The train? You always let y/n choose a new train when we win a trophy. Which one was it this time? Last time I saw her she talked about wanting this fancy red one that you could take the top off to put little people in the cars. Was it stupidly expensive? Is that why you didn't let her choose?"

Alexia clenches her fist at the reminder. She can't think of the last time she bought you a new train. She used to buy one every week. Its all you ever ask for but she can't remember the last one she gave you.

Was it the green one at Christmas or the black one at new years?

No, it can't have been then because she got you a big train set before Jaume was born, wrapped up and placed in the cupboard to give to you the day of Jaume's birth.

But...

Alexia can't remember seeing it in your room this morning.

When recovery is over, she nearly tears the cupboard door off its hinges.

The present is still there, a thick layer of dust covering the pristine packaging and Alexia sobs all over again.

She's in her car before she knows and is banging on Alba's door before she can stop herself.

"Go away!" Her sister snarls.

"Let me in!"

"No! Go away!"

"I want to see her!"

"Fuck off, Alexia! And get lost! You're not coming anywhere near that little girl!"

"She's my daughter! You've kidnapped her! Move!"

Alba looks ready to throw hands again but so is Alexia. She knows that she's got a long way to go but she's got the present from Jaume's birth in the backseat and the train you told Mapi you wanted.

"Kidnapped," Alba scoffs," That's rich. You've been neglecting her! You're lucky I didn't call the police on you!"

"Watch it," Alexia snaps," This is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take notice? Job done! I've noticed! Give me Bambi!"

"Over my-"

Alba breaks off as the pitter-patter of little feet sound behind her. She turns, blocking Alexia from your view as you come running towards her.

"Tia! Tia!"

"Hey, bambi. What have you got there?"

"Me and you! I painted it!"

Alba smiles, gently cupping your cheeks as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. She keeps her body between you and Alexia, desperate to make sure you don't notice.

"It's so beautiful. Why don't you go and put away your paints and then we can put it up on the fridge?"

"Okay."

You run off again and Alba goes to shut the door.

Alexia wedges her foot between it and the frame.

"I'm not leaving," She insists," Not without Bambi."

"Go back to your precious son," Alba hisses," You're not going anywhere near her."

Alexia doesn't exactly have a plan. All she wants is to grab you and take you home. She'll give you your new trains and not let you out of her sight for the rest of your life.

"Alexia Putellas Segura!"

She turns slowly to see her mother walking up the driveway, a face like thunder.

"Mama-"

"No!"

She falls silent.

"Go."

"Alba-"

"Alexia, I will not ask again. Go home to Olga and Jaume. Your presence will do Bambi no good."

Tears water in her eyes. "Mama, I'm trying. I will be better, I promise. Please."

"Alexia." Her mother's voice softens ever so slightly but it's clear she's not going to budge. "This will not be good for Bambi. Go home, reflect and we will sort out a day where you can see her again."

"I want to see her now." Her voice cracks. "Please, Mama, she's only little."

"Go home, Alexia," Eli says," Hold your son but go home and do not come back until you are invited. This is hard on you, yes, but it is much harder on your daughter. Something like this does not happen overnight."

"Mama, I will do anything. Just, please, I need to see her."

"I have already made my decision. You will not be seeing Bambi until I have been told what has happened from her mouth. You will go home and think about your actions. If I don't think your presence will help then you will not see her."

"She's a baby, Mama," Alexia sobs with no shame," I..."

"I know," Eli says," I know, Alexia but we need to start doing what is right for her, not just what is right for you. So, go home while I talk to Bambi and we will see where this goes."

Alexia sniffles and wipes her tears. "I...I have trains for her, in my car..."

"I'll give them to her."

You're sitting in front of a train set when Eli walks in.

She didn't really want to believe it when Alba called this morning, telling her that Alexia had been neglecting you. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Alba said that she had taken you away but seeing Alexia a few minutes ago had made this all clear.

"Do you have room for more trains?"

You look up. "Abuela!"

"Hola, Bambi." She sits down next to you. "I've missed you."

The look on your face is heartbreaking. You look so excited, like you can't quite believe that someone has missed you.

"Really?"

"Of course. I always miss my favourite little girl."

Your face clouds with something that Eli can't quite work out and you say softly," Mami used to call me that."

Eli's heart cracks completely at your words and she has to resist the urge to cry herself. "I hear that you are staying with your tia for a few days."

Alba hovers uncertainly nearby, shifting on her feet even though her eyes are still glued to the windows looking out on the driveway. Eli doesn't have to look to know that Alexia hasn't driven away yet.

She knows that she won't be coming in but leaving and driving back home makes it certain. Eli isn't sure that Alexia wants to admit that just yet.

You nod, looking back down at your trains. The set-up isn't as elaborate as the one you have at home but it's still quite big. You make little chugging noises with your mouth before speaking," Tia Alba says we can go to the beach tomorrow and that I don't have to go to nursery!" Your face goes cloudy again. and you mood drops "I got forgot at nursery yesterday."

Eli hums. "And how did that make you feel?"

Your bottom lip wobbles and Eli doesn't want to push but she needs to know so she can fix this. She wants this to be salvageable. She doesn't want to give Alexia hope that this can be fixed if it can't be. She doesn't want to force you to reconcile if it'll cause more harm than good.

"Mami loves Jaume," You say, face scrunching up," And Miss Olga. They're her family."

Tears spill down your cheeks.

"Your Mami loves you too," Eli promises, feeling her chest go tight," Even if she forgets."

"No, she doesn't," You shake your head," I..." You like around wildly like you're scared. "I...I love Mami but she doesn't love me."

"She does," Eli insists," You are so loved, Bambi. Your Mami is having a bit of a stumble but she does love you."

It's clear that you don't believe her.

"Mami wanted Jaume. She didn't want me."

Eli chokes out a breath. "Who told you that?! Bambi, who said that to you?!"

Your conception was always a difficult subject to breach. Alexia had gotten drunk, slept with someone and woke up with no memory of the experience. She ended up pregnant though, with you.

It wasn't something that they ever told you. All you had ever been told was that you were loved. No one ever wanted to label you as a mistake or unwanted.

It was one of Alexia's deepest shames. She'd always told you that she chose your daddy, that she spent hours and hours choosing the perfect one. She had never wanted to tell you that you were an accident no matter how many times Eli had told her you would find out one day.

To you, you were chosen. Alexia chose to have you, to make you a part of her life. To you, you and Jaume have the same daddy because Alexia chose yours.

Eli should have known this would come out eventually, no matter what Alexia had told her.

More tears flow down your cheeks.

"Was an accident," You sniffle," Didn't mean to listen in. Was meant to be sleeping. Mami was talking to her friends-"

"What did Alexia say, bambi?" Alba's voice is harsh and Eli could never imagine this is what her family would come to.

Two sisters on warring sides and one little girl used as the rope in this tug of war.

"Said that Jaume was planned. Does that mean I wasn't? That I wasn't wanted like him?"

"I'm going to kill her," Alba declares. If she squints, she can just make out Alexia sobbing into her steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."

"Alba," Eli says," Calm down. Go and make some snacks but do not attack your sister."

"Abuela? Does that mean Mami didn't want me?"

Eli doesn't want to have this conversation. She's never wanted to have this conversation, to have you question your position in this family. She wants to tell you that just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that you weren't wanted. She wants to tell you that you were so wanted by everyone in this room the moment they found out about you.

But, somehow, she doesn't think that will help.

What you want is assurance from Alexia but Eli doesn't trust her eldest daughter with you right now.

It's a horrible thing to admit but it's so easy to see that Alexia adores Jaume. It has always been a little harder to see Alexia's love for you.

Eli doesn't trust Alexia with you in the slightest and she hates that. She hates how splintered her family has become. She can hear Alba pacing in the kitchen and she can make out Alexia still in the driveway, sobbing.

"Your Mami..." She sighs. "I wanted you and your Tia Alba wanted you. You are so loved and so wanted by everyone in the family, Bambi. Do you trust me?"

You nod.

"I'm going to be staying with you and your Tia for a few days and I'm going to make everything better."

"Is Mami and Miss Olga and baby Jaume coming over?"

"Do you want them to?"

"No."

"Then they won't. Your Mami did give me something to give to you, though. They're presents from her."

"Why?"

Eli doesn't want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about why you're even questioning Alexia giving you presents. Every weekend at the end of Alexia's matches, she used to take you to the model train store near your house.

Eli used to be forced to go too and Alexia would let you pick out a new train simply as a present, a gift for being her favourite girl in the entire world.

You were singlehandedly keeping that store in business and the old man that ran it even kept it open late if the match ran over. It used to be your favourite time of the week.

If you're asking her why you're getting presents all of a sudden, Eli doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you must have set foot in that store.

Her voice cracks. "Because you're her favourite girl in the entire world."

She pushes them both towards you.

One of them is covered in wrapping paper so Eli can't tell what it is but she recognises the second one.

It's a red train that you'd been eyeing up since the last time Eli went to the train store with you and your Mami almost a whole year ago. It's big and comes with its own train track and little people.

It's based on those fancy trains that serve afternoon tea and cakes because each of the train cars can have their roofs taken off to place the little people figures inside to enjoy their lunches.

It's stupidly expensive, seven-hundred euros and Eli remembers you telling her that Alexia had promised it to you for your birthday. But your birthday came and went a month ago so to see it now means you didn't get it then.

You don't reach out to tear off the wrapping paper of the first present but you do tentatively touch the front of the box of the train you've been begging for.

More tears then Eli thought possible drops down your cheeks.

"I don't want it," You say eventually," I don't want them, Abuela. I don't!"

"Okay, okay," Eli hushes you softly," I'll take them away, Bambi."

You climb into her lap and sob and Eli wants nothing more than to heal all your pain and stop this but even that sounds too difficult to do. She'd hoped that this was all some big understanding but it's clear that this runs deep, that this isn't something that can be fixed quite so easily.

It's clear that Alba has made the right choice though, to take you away from Alexia and the mess of your home.

Eli had been worried when Alexia had named her as your godmother but it was clearly the right decision. She doesn't want to think about what could have happened if you had been left there any longer.

"Abuela?" You say and the next words out of your mouth are the worst things Eli has ever heard," Do you think Mami would be happier if she didn't have me?"

[voltronisanobsession]

Hello! Could you do Percy pinning after another Demi-god?

Percy Pinning Over Reader

Hiiii!! Percy pinning over someone in my opinion is just a really cute concept 😍

also guys I’m going to try and respond to the asks in my inbox, I have some free time now that it’s the weekend😜🔥🔥

He would the definition of puppy love

When he first sees reader at camp half blood, it’s like his entire world quite literally stopped

Heart eyes, blushing a little when you introduce yourself, Percy is absolutely SMITTEN for you

Omg he would be SO nervous around you for while

Like Percy’s fumbling over his words and making the WORST awkward jokes known to existence

He would try to be smooth when talking to you but he just gets too nervous to even finish his sentence

He would totally over explain a joke or saracastic comment he made when you’re around

He doesn’t want you to think his jokes suck ok💔

He’s always pairing up with you during games and training at camp since he likes being around you

It’s moments like those where he can act normally, making small jokes and being able to talk comfortably with you since there aren’t a bunch of people looking at you guys

His crush on you is super obvious but you just think he really wants to be you’re friend (but you do want to believe there’s something else)

Now the actual pining part

I feel like he would try and keep his distance from you because of how chaotic his life is

This dude goes years with his life being in danger every single time

The last thing he would want is to drag his crush head first into danger which is why he manages to keep some distance from you

Like come on guys, if Percy gave himself the big push something could totally happen between y’all

But he believes that with everyone basically out to get his head, he doesn’t deserve something as normal as being in a relationship

So he forces himself to stay behind that thin line of being just friends and something more

Forces himself to watch as you continue your life while he continues his

Forced to watch from a distance as you flourish over time

Like as much as it breaks him to see other people show romantic interest in you, he can’t bring himself to admit his feelings for you

Grover has caught him staring at you longingly multiple times and he’s starting to lowkey feel bad for him at this point😭😭

He would try hyping Percy up, to push him to finally make the game changing move

“Come on Percy! You can’t just stare at them forever!”

“I can sure try.”

You’re gonna have to tell them how you feel eventually.”

“And have them laugh in my face? Yeah right.”

Like Percy is clueless to your own pining as well, he’s too busy moping around to see you always looking towards his direction, almost like you’re waiting for him to come up to you

If he’s ever going to get out of the pining phase of your relationship, I think you would have to make the first move on him

He would be SO HAPPY if you did, he’s just so concerned about putting you in danger if you’re with him

As long as you reassure him that this is something you want, you really want, then he’s all down

This dude is super giddy and happy now the he won’t have to look at you from a distance anymore😭😭😭

Yeah for the most part, his pining could lead to two different scenarios

One where you make the move on him and start a relationship, or one where his pining turns to unrequited love

[w2soneshots]

Flirt -W2S

Words: 1.0k+

Warnings: alcohol consumption.

In which your childhood friends with Faith and when she meets Ethan you’re invited to a party with his friends.

a/n: this was requested on wattpad!! Enjoy🎀🫶🏼

I've known Faith since high school. We stayed friends and have actually became closer as we've grown up. She met Ethan a few months ago and I have noticed how happy she is, when she talks about him she starts blushing and goes all giddy, I'm so incredibly happy for her. Naturally I met him and he seems super nice, then he invited me and Faith to a party he's hosting at his apartment, and we obviously said yes. I met all of his friends last week along with their girlfriends: Talia and Freya, who were really sweet and welcomed us into the group. I find the entire group hilarious. The banter that night was top notch.

Tonight both me and Faith are invited to another party but this time it's being hosted at JJ and Simon's apartment. For a bit of fun they decided to do a "girls wear white, men wear black" sorta thing so I went shopping with Talia (who I've become good friends with) to buy a dress. When we both found something to wear, paid and headed home to begin the long process of getting ready. I styled my hair, put on some makeup then got into my dress. Just before I left my apartment I sprayed myself with my favourite perfume and grabbed my lip liner, lipgloss and phone.

I got an uber to the boys apartment building. They gave me the code to get through reception then I got into the lift. Once I was outside the front door I knocked. It was opened by Talia a few minutes later. Her eyes lit up "y/n! I'm so glad you're here," she said as she pulled me in "none of the girls are here yet and I'm seriously getting bored of the conversation being about football." I laughed as she brought me through the hallway and into the living room. I smiled and waved lightly "hey." I said. "Hey! y/n, wanna drink?" JJ asked. I nodded and he took me into the kitchen.

After I got my drink I sat down on the couch between Talia and Harry. At the last party I got along great with everyone but me and Harry were a little awkward, Ethan had already pre warned me that Harry wasn't great with new people and so I tried to be as talkative as possible when I spoke to him so he didn't feel like he had to do too much of the talking, and it seemed to work pretty well. In the next half an hour everyone else arrived, including Ethan and Faith so I immediately became more comfortable.

As the night went on everyone progressively became more and more drunk. I stood in the kitchen pouring myself, another drink when Harry came in. "Hey, what ya making?" he asked. I turned around "vodka Redbull, want one?" he stepped towards me "Nah, I'm alright but thanks though." he said. I smiled lightly and continued to make my drink while he made himself something. "So, how did you meet Faith?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence. I finished pouring my drink, took a sip and looked up to him. "Met her during high school, we've been friends ever since." I replied. Just as I finished my sentence, Freya walked in and told us we were going to play Uno.

Me and Harry headed into the living room and sat down on one of the sofas. Once we played a few rounds we got bored and began chatting amongst ourselves. I spent the rest of the night talking to Harry and getting to know him properly until I was too drunk to hold a conversation so decided to call it a night and go home.

The next morning... I woke up with what felt like one of the worst hangovers of my life. After practically rotting in bed all day, I managed to get myself up and order some lunch. When it arrived, I sat down to eat it and got a call from Faith: "hey! How are you feeling?" She asked. "not great, you?" I replied. "not the worst," she sighed contently "So... last night, you and Harry seem to be getting along." she said. I raised a brow, even though she couldn't see me "what do you mean by that?" She giggled "you just looked really... flirty." She said. I gasped "flirty?" "Come on y/n, you obviously like him!" She said with a chuckle. I sighed, then laughed "maybe I do."

Harry's pov:

I woke up to a text from Ethan: "so you and y/n yea?" I furrowed my brows "what?" I replied. A few minutes later he text back "come on bog it's obvious you like her😉" my face dropped slightly "is it really that obvious?" I replied quickly. "Haha yes yes it is" I signed "shit" I said quietly to myself.

y/n’s pov:

Today I'm going for dinner with Faith. She asked me randomly a few days after the party if I was free anytime this week, since Ethan was busy. So I said tonight and she picked a restaurant. I got ready into a casual outfit, pulled my hair into a half up half down style and did my makeup. Once I was finished I texted Faith, telling her I was just about to leave. She replied that she was also leaving so I made my way outside.

I got an Uber to the restaurant and was there within 15 minutes. I text Faith that I’d arrived but I didn’t get a reply. I brushed it off and headed inside. I looked around to check she wasn’t already here and my eyes caught someone else’s. I walked towards him “Harry? What are you doing here?” I asked. He stood from the small table he was sat at. “I’m meeting Ethan.” He said casually. My eyes widened slightly then I shook my head “Faith.” I said now realising what was going on. “What?” He said, confused. “I told Faith I- um liked you and I guess she was trying to set us up.” I said awkwardly. “I told Ethan I liked you.” He laughed slightly. “You do?” I said with a slight tilt of my head. He nodded. I smiled “well we better make the most of this then.” I said.

We spent the entire date laughing and getting wasted. We forgave Ethan and Faith and actually thanked them for forcing us to admit our feelings.

[wing-ed-thing]

Best Friend Headcanons with Izuku Midoriya

Tags: No Reader Pronouns, Classmate!Reader, Interpersonal Conflict

𓆃 Overall a solid friend who's gentle, considerate, and supportive of anything you could ever set your mind to, but your friendship will require a lot of work if it's reaching anything past surface level.

𓆃 Because, make no mistake, Izuku is a very good friend, but your relationship will either always be surface level or he'll become one of your very best friends for your lifetime.

𓆃 It's very easy to befriend Izuku in the first place. It takes less than one meaningful interaction to put you on his radar, and especially in group settings, time spent together doing activities is enough to naturally draw you close.

𓆃 Even if you weren't necessarily Izuku's friend in the first place, if Iida invites you both to his place for studying one week and Ochako invites everyone out to BBQ the next week, you're basically friends by proxy.

𓆃 Because Izuku doesn't care too much about the barrier between classmate/acquaintance and being friends. He'll most definitely care if you care, but that certainly doesn't stop him from awkwardly raving about your quirk or costume or other notable trait that's unique to you.

𓆃 Social anxiety be damned; he's curious!

𓆃 It also doesn't hurt that he's extremely easy to match energies with.

𓆃 And that's one of the most endearing parts of having Izuku as a friend, especially if you also have niche hobbies or special interests. Izuku is always eager to learn and spend meaningful social time.

𓆃 The hour doesn't matter; Izuku is always down to sit for any length of time in the common area at odd hours to chat or just share space.

𓆃 He's also surprisingly down for most anything short of criminal activity or rule breaking. Although, it does take some convincing.

𓆃 You and the rest of your friend group will want to grab fast food at an odd hour and it takes at least a half hour of warming Izuku up to the idea and talk him out of sticking too strictly to his sleep routine.

𓆃 The key is that you have to drop hints about it throughout the day to warm him up. You have the best record by far when it comes to convincing Izuku to take spontaneous trips or do spontaneous projects.

𓆃 (You convinced him to do a snack run in 5 minutes flat.)

𓆃 One fantastic thing about Izuku is that he never makes you feel like you're bothering him and always makes it abundantly clear that he wants to spend time with you no matter how mundane the activity is.

𓆃 He loves running errands to the point that somethings he'll run errands for you... and this is where you might run into some issues.

𓆃 For all of his overthinking, Izuku sure likes to assume. He likes to assume your needs; he likes to assume when conversations are over (even if you're bringing something serious up to him and you really need to talk it all the way through); and most egregiously, he often assumes your feelings.

𓆃 Izuku reads into everything, and there are times when the amount of reassurance he needs is excessive. And the worst of it is that he won't even ask if you're mad or annoyed or whatever negative emotion he's afraid of you having.

𓆃 He'll just be avoiding you for a few days and it's up to you to ask if anything is wrong with him.

𓆃 Or the times he comes to you, his way of asking can be presumptuous and sometimes even insulting.

𓆃 "I know you were outperformed by Komori in the last match-ups, and you're super angry— I mean, it's no wonder because, with her new support items, the matchup was super one-sided from the beginning, so I understand why you're feeling really useless and weak right now..." and he'll say all that without you having even said a word.

𓆃 This can inadvertently turn things that are occupying your brain space into issues with him. He'll express regret that he didn't help you more with your strategy— even if you didn't even ask him for help in the first place— and suddenly the conversation about feeling bummed about your loss has turned into comforting Izuku.

𓆃 And any kind of direct conversation leads to him trying to overcompensate. No matter how calm or peaceful you are in bringing up issues between the two of you, you can almost certainly count on him saying, "I'll never do it ever again," "I can't believe I've been such a bad friend," and "You don't deserve to have to deal with someone like me."

𓆃 While he's not trying to be manipulative, his words most definitely come off as such. And it comes from an inability to take things he's done wrong in stride.

𓆃 And this isn't to mention if you do something that bothers him. He'll ignore that and plan on taking it to his grave, not realizing that there's been an awkward resentment or tension building up that will inevitably burst.

𓆃 Although, make no mistake, Izuku isn't some passive guy who will take the hits as they come without a word. If he's not passive-aggressive in his anger toward you, he's not afraid to let everything he's been stewing in explode on you all at once, and those unfiltered thoughts can be nasty.

𓆃 For someone so well-spoken in most other parts of his life, Izuku doesn't know how to split the different between passive-aggressive avoidance and direct, emotional sputtering when it comes to his interpersonal conflict communication.

𓆃 The moment emotions get tied up in everything is the moment Izuku implodes.

𓆃 He'll never tell you that he felt left out of something or that something you've been saying has been rubbing him the wrong way, but he expects you to pick up on that without ever mentioning it to you.

𓆃 Depending on the level of issues you have with each other, you're going to have one serious conversation that makes or breaks your entire friendship. Because for how skittish and people-pleasing Midoriya is, he's surprisingly high maintenance.

𓆃 He expects, on some level, that everyone thinks like he does and is as thorough as he is. Izuku doesn't like having direct conversations about issues, so he doesn't until it's too late.

𓆃 And truly, isn't that how it goes when direct communication isn't within your wheelhouse?

𓆃 That's your main obstacle because it's truly bound to happen. But if you care about each other enough and choose to listen with open hearts and minds, you'll have made a friend for life.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[cenittxnadir]

Morning talk with SingleDad! Miguel O´Hara

This is the next part of the series of SingleDad Miguel, hope you like it. I appreciate every comments

It is well known that Miguel has terrible sleep hygiene. He lasts whole days without sleeping and when he has the opportunity to do so, he does so in an uncomfortable chair in his laboratory. He doesn't always manage to get home to have a well-deserved rest, many times he is caught up in things at work or finds himself in some dimension dealing with some anomaly and not to mention possible time changes between dimensions.

They are the worst.

But for Miguel the most difficult thing is to see how little by little he is losing his daughter, he is not always in the best conditions to take care of Gabriela and that is something that little by little kills him inside. Despite the fact that Gaby has made it clear in multiple times that she doesn't mind that her dad can't always be there for her as long as you're present.

For Miguel and Gabriela your arrival was more than a blessing, many would think that they are exaggerating but it is the truth, Miguel felt that he was failing as a father and he felt that he should do more for his daughter, he knew that he had to ask for help but O'Hara was a proud man.

"Of course I can take care of my daughter, have a stable job, protect my city and why not, also safeguard the multiverse and go to my daughter's training sessions on weekends."

Everyone could see how the world was coming down on Miguel, except him.

After you met him at that party, you began to hang out and when you realized the big problem he had, you offered to help him a little, you didn't have superpowers and you weren't a genius, but for Miguel you always had the power to make him feel better about himself and you always managed to keep Gaby happy, and, if Gabriela was happy he was too.

So when Gabriela found out that you would live with them, she was so happy that she kept telling you what their weekends would be like and how they would spend time together non-stop.

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

Today was one of those rare days when Miguel could spend the weekend at home with his little family. The night before, he had promised Gaby that he would take her to school next day. Today is the other day and Miguel had fallen asleep making Gaby late for school.

Those mornings were chaotic but without a doubt you would never change them.

After Miguel memorized all the commands and instructions that you left in the refrigerator, he took Gaby and put her in the car, starting the car in record time.

During the journey to school they were silent, probably both were still half asleep, neither of them managed to comb their hair. Miguel was the first to break the silence.

"So... how do you feel with her at home? you are happy?" Miguel asked as he leaned his head towards his daughter waiting for an answer without stopping to see the road.

"I really like having her around, also, her food is very tasty. More than yours." Gabriela said between laughs. She liked to tease his dad from time to time. He took food very seriously, it was his way of showing his affection when words did not allow it.

"More than mine..." Miguel repeats in a low voice "Okay, it doesn't bother me. I didn't want to cook anymore anyway." And the drama begins. "It's not like cooking is our favorite thing to do together. No, not at all."

"Just kidding, I like your food, but you have to admit that mom's food is good. You always fall asleep on the couch after eating what she makes" Gaby had the biggest smile he had ever seen.

"Mom? Since when did you call her mom? What am I missing?" Miguel stopped the car at the red light, turning to see his daughter.

Gaby's cheeks were a little red. "Well... I started calling her that after it slipped out by mistake at one of my soccer practices. She said it was fine as long as you and I felt comfortable."

"Mom huh? And what do you think about that? Would you like her to be your mom?" Miguel's tone was definitely serious.

"Yes" Gaby didn't hesitate for a second to answer, it's as if she had already had this conversation in her head over and over again and in none of them would she have said no. Every time she thought about it, you always showed up, at her training sessions, at her school events, God, even she had already thought about how her first mothers day would be with you there at her festival.

"I think she's good for you Pa and if she's good for you and makes you happy, so am I." At that moment Gaby was speaking from the bottom of her heart. "Besides, you're getting old, you're lucky she noticed you" And there it was, the usual Gaby was back, bothering her father in the most affectionate way possible, in the only way a daughter like her and a father like him could show their affection.

"First of all, how dare you. Second I'M NOT OLD, it's the stress. What makes you think I'm old." Miguel kept driving as soon as the light turned green. On the other hand, Gabriela was laughing. "Well, the other day I heard you tell mom that your back and knees were starting to hurt. That's for old people"

"For the sake of my health, I'm going to ignore the fact that my precious daughter called me old. What I mean is that if I ask her to marry me, would you be okay with that?"

"Definitely, if life had given me to choose who my mother would be from the beginning, I would choose her, in this and in all universes. If one day you two separate -I hope not- I would choose to go with her. I think that that makes it clear what I think."

Miguel remained silent for a while, getting closer and closer to the school entrance. "Well, I think the decision has been made" Miguel said as he accelerated.

"You just passed the school entrance" Gaby was confused "Where are we going?"

"To the mall" Miguel just shrugged his shoulders as if it were something obvious

"For what?" Gaby only saw how her school was moving away from her sight

"To buy an engagement ring"

"That's good because I was going to tell you that I forgot my backpack at home"

"AY GABRIELA!"

[lurkingshan]

After reading this post from @waitmyturtles about her read on Fire and Dynamite, I was thinking a bit more about the way the show has handled their story and what I love about it. And I think it comes down to a crucial point: Cooking Crush, unlike most Thai bl, is NOT in the bubble, and the presence of homophobia, both internal and external, cannot be separated from their story. This is a queer narrative to the core.

Both Fire and Dynamite are shaped by their sexuality and their experiences or fear of rejection because of it. Dynamite is out and proud and unapologetic about what he wants, and as we learn when his backstory is revealed to us, this is a direct response to the familial rejection he experienced when he came out. Dy is defiant and in your face with his desires because he has already experienced the worst kind of rejection and is always bracing for more. So he dares people to do it right out of the gate. He likes to know where he stands with people, so he’d rather be his brashest self and suffer the loss early before getting attached. He deals with fear by daring people to prove him right.

Fire takes his fear in the opposite direction, denying who he is and rejecting anything that makes him think too hard about the aspects of himself he does not want to deal with. Even without Dynamite in the picture, it was clear that he was trying to talk himself into liking Jane in a way he simply did not. Once we got to know his mother, the source of his fear became crystal clear, and it was easy to see why he worked so hard to suppress himself. Fire was unhappy living that way, and Dynamite was a constant reminder of what he was trying to keep down, so it’s no wonder he reacted so viscerally to him.

But that’s exactly why their story works. Fire needed someone who he couldn’t ignore to draw out his true self, and because Dynamite is so unwilling to put up with mixed messages and half-hearted declarations, Fire had to work himself all the way out before Dy would accept him. One of the genius things this show did in their arc was have Dy pull away as soon as Fire began sending mixed signals. Dynamite was fine in the face of Fire’s firm rejection—it as what he always expected to get from him along with everyone else. But he wouldn’t allow Fire to run hot and cold on him and play with his emotions, because that was where he knew he could get really hurt. And this boundary that Dy set forced Fire to figure out what he actually wanted and communicate it clearly.

Which is why we saw Fire change so much as soon as they were together, because in the process of deciding what he wanted from Dynamite, Fire had to make some decisions about who he wanted to be and how he wanted to live. And he chose to embrace his queerness and live a more authentic life. He is a new man in this relationship because he is being himself for the first time ever, and he’s finally breaking free from the weight of his own internalized homophobia. It’s a positive change and one that is clearly making him happy, and part of him must feel grateful to Dy for pushing him into figuring out what he wanted.

But crucially, that is where Dy’s pushing ends. He is utterly unwilling to make any further demands of Fire regarding coming out, to the point that Dy puts his own friendships at risk to hide their relationship and protect Fire until he’s ready. He understands the fear of rejection Fire is still dealing with because he lived it. And he has already proven that he’s up to the task of handling Fire’s mother whenever Fire is ready to face her. These two are still early in their relationship but they have already fallen into a very natural and easy pattern of providing each other emotional support and stability, and we can see them shoring each other up. They make a great pair and theirs is a story that can only exist between queer characters.

I just love that in this show that feels so light on the surface they have made room for such depth in the storytelling. Watching Cooking Crush feels like a warm hug because even though it’s gentle and funny and often silly, there are real emotional struggles to ground us, and the story takes them seriously. We’ve seen this consistently in the main storyline with Ten and Prem, and Fire and Dynamite are no exception.

[dyketubbo]

tbh for me the thing about cbeeduo is that its so like. how am i supposed to look at this dynamic and not feel insane for the rest of my life. like going along w the crushing during nlm hc ranboo fell in love w tubbo at his WORST. they saw some child president who was probably on illegal substances like half of the time with a tired face and forced grin as he got through politics he didnt understand and got insults hurled at him, comparing him to an abusive dictator as he tried to solve a trolley problem (his best friend was on one line and his country was on the other and of course he chooses majority rule but the trolley loops back around anyways and all he did was delay the inevitable) and ranboo saw some 16yr old on his last leg going on about how he felt like he was going to die soon (and hes too too close to the cliffs edge but hes grinning and its like hes really hoping death is a happy ending) and everyone was leaving him and he didnt want all this and ranboo goes follow my voice i wont leave im sorry and they fall in love with whatever virtues there are left in tubbo and decide that they would keep trying to do right by him

and then, inevitably, ranboo messes up and betrays tubbo and tubbos voice shudders and ranboo never wants to see that broken expression of disbelief again so he fights for a country even though hes been disenchanted with it for a while and hes never liked picking sides anyways (but this is tubbo, and if hes choosing tubbo its okay because he cant hurt tubbo again) and of course it falls anyways and tubbo makes a new home and tubbo makes nukes and tubbo makes a plan and then tubbo is on his knees and an axe is held to his neck and ranboo barely gets a glimpse before things are moving forward and tubbo is pressed to her side calling them minutes man again

the marriage starts out as a joke, tubbos never been rich and ranboo only gets richer and tubbo pretends its for tax benefits, hes just a golddigger, because right now its a joke and thats all hes letting it be. but then hes laughing like normal but it feels different and hes looking at the family portrait of the two and michael and hes thinking about bunk beds and he gets a mansion because hes in love at this point because ranboo was there during his worst moments and even as tubbos getting (relatively) better ranboos still there and of course tubbo forgives him because when he met ranboo they reminded him painfully of himself and tubbo cant let ranboo be like him so he falls in love with them instead and if ranboos going to stick by him tubbos going to try and be someone good to stick by

but of course ranboo finds bad influences anyways and tommy is back but different and everythings different and ranboo wont move in so every few days its just him and michael (and god, he shouldnt be a parent at 17, what is he doing with his life? he should have been dead by now) and he tries so so hard to be good for michael and good for ranboo and better for tommy and he isnt really good to himself but thats fine and ranboo is so much better than he'll ever be and michael adores him and tubbo adores him and its fine that the mansion is collecting dust and its fine that ranboo lives by tubbos executioner and the people who helped destroy his country and its fine that he doesnt really know who ranboo is at all outside of his kind husband that was there for him at his worse and its fine that ranboo doesnt really know who tubbo is outside of someone who has been through a lot and needs a good break and its fine that theyre keeping secrets its fine that they never really talk about their problems (its fine that its been months and ranboo still hasnt moved in)

and then they have their first disagreement and tubbo tries to make up for it and it works until they have their first argument and ranboo tries to make up for it but he has to make a point too and they hardly get to talk about it before suddenly time has passed and

and ranboos dead and tubbos a widow and single father at 18 and his (their) son got kidnapped and hes making friends with murderers and hes not sure how to feel about his husbands ghost (and ranboo is so so happy to be dead and ranboo is in limbo alone and tubbo doesnt know how any of this works) so he moves on and his anger gets the best of him and he pushes someone off a bridge and he moves on and he isnt getting better and he moves on and nothings getting better and he moves on and because the dream smp is at its core not that great pretty often theres no closure to any of this ever tubbo dies and loses all his memories ranboos forever a ghost and takes his son elsewhere and thats it the end youre just meant to be normal about all this now. they never learned how to truly trust each other and they were so so in love and wanted to be good for each other but never talked about their problems and now they just Dont Get To. The End !

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, drinking, mention of vomitting, rpf, fem!reader, eventual smut

Author’s note: we get drunk in this one! and, little side note: Mark's not the worst. Stupid, sure. But we love him still.

Wordcount: 4.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

Something was wrong.

The wedding shower looked great - people were chatting, drinking, laughing. Mark and Poppy were stood near the entrance to greet everyone who came in, to receive gifts, to welcome family and friends. Sometimes excited raised voices alerted everyone in the room when someone who said they wouldn't be able to make it walked in through the doors. There was hugging and there were smiles and Joe was happy, because Poppy seemed happy.

Joe found the best venue. The perfect place for a wedding shower. Not extremely formal, not too wedding-y. But nice.

Still. Something was off. It started with you showing up way later than Joe thought you would've.

Drunk.

Joe saw you enter from where he was stood by the bar. He'd been chatting to a colleague of Mark who had recognised him, and immediately had all sorts of questions. About being an actor. About the industry. About the people Joe worked with. All things Joe didn't mind talking about, but this was bad timing.

You'd just walked in, with half-lidded eyes and a dopey smile, and you were quick to sling both your arms around Poppy. You let your body fall into her fully, and Joe saw Poppy stumble back at the surprise of having to unexpectedly carry your full bodyweight. You slurred some things into her ear, things that made her look at her fiancé with a worried glint in her eyes.

Looking at the two of you hug, Joe realised he could still feel you in his arms if he thought about it long enough. The way you just... fit him so perfectly. Had relaxed into his hold so readily. You'd only sobbed maybe twice before your breathing had steadied. He fixed it. Sort of had to, Joe thought. He'd asked you a question that he hadn't expected such an emotional answer to, and he'd regretted asking it the second he saw you well up.

He'd done that. Was responsible for that. Felt awful for it, too.

How could Joe not have hugged you?

It had been such a short, quick thing. Effective, though. You'd stopped crying just as fast as you'd started. The moment had been so small, but definitely special.

To Joe, at least.

But Joe knew he was on thin ice. Joe remembered your shared moment in vivid colours, but he also remembered the fact that Poppy breaking it up by her loud knock on the window had made him feel like he'd been caught cheating.

Ever since then, he'd been riddled with conflicted feelings.

Needed to make sure he kept distance. That he wasn't going to fuck it all up.

So he made sure that this party was perfect. Perfect venue, perfect bar staff, perfect DJ and perfect guest list. Even the lighting! Brightly coloured lights, all pinks and peaches, no blue tones to be detected. Joe had thought of everything to please Poppy. To make sure she was pleased with him.

Joe saw how you squeezed Poppy until it hurt her, and then you didn't greet Mark at all. Instead, you beelined it straight to the bar where you ordered two gin and tonics.

Even though fucking gorgeous, Joe could see how you were staining this beautiful affair. A big dollop of ketchup on a pristine white shirt, and this party wasn't allowed any stains.

Why the fuck were you drunk already?

From a distance, Joe saw Mark clench his jaw as Poppy touched his arm. She seemed to tell him to calm down, or, something along those lines at least. To not pay you any mind, perhaps.

But you just necked a full glass and seemed ready to throw back the second one too.

This had disaster written all over it.

Joe had to step in.

Do something.

Mark's mother found you, and you greeted her warmly. She'd been talking to Poppy's mother, and since you were greeting and hugging already anyway, you also leant in to embrace her.

You and Poppy's mother had never hugged before, ever.

Joe saw from her face that it was a little unexpected. You really squeezed her properly before you let go and found the straw in your drink with your tongue.

Classy.

Where you'd just seconds earlier greeted the two mum's like they were your own, now, it was like they didn't even exist to you. You stood and looked across the room, eyes roaming, your mind somewhere else entirely.

"Excuse me," Joe said to Mark's colleague who was still talking to him, and he made his way over to you.

"Hey,"

"There he is," you slurred through narrow eyes, all exaggerated suspicion, and one of your hands wrapped around his forearm by ways of greeting. Nails dug in harshly, and your teeth did the same to your bottom lip as you frowned.

"What's going on, are you all right?"

None of this was normal. Not that the two of you ever were or had been, but, you were fucking plastered.

You had a hard time keeping your eyes straight, and there was something vengeful about you, Joe thought.

You shrugged, spat, "Ask Mark," before spotting Mark's brother over Joe's shoulder and quickly stepping around him to make your way over.

There was no hug for Mark's brother, but just a sloppy high five, followed by lots of giggles and spilt gin and tonic. You were barely able to keep your balance, and when Joe checked on Poppy and Mark, he saw they were watching you as well.

In fact, Joe took a scan of the whole room, and from almost all directions you had eyes on you.

You looked good, still. Banging body in a banging dress. You still smelled lovely, your perfume lingered, and you didn't have a hair out of place. Skin all dewey, all healthy looking... it did something to Joe.

You looked fucking amazing if you asked him.

But you swayed on your feet. Laughed loudly. Fell into the people you were talking to. Held onto them for balance. It was so clear that you were well past the point of being just a little tipsy.

Jesus Christ, was Joe going to have to ask you to leave?

Joe and Poppy made eye-contact, and she beckoned him with a nod of her head.

"She's pissed," Poppy said the second Joe stepped into earshot. Yea, no shit you were pissed.

"I'll go tell the bar staff to only give her mocktails," Joe said, already thinking of solutions, of how to keep the peace.

"No, she'll notice," Mark grumbled, and rubbed his face. He seemed annoyed.

"So go apologise," Poppy said, and Mark was quick to react, "I have! I have apologised! Like, seventeen times!"

Joe had no idea what was going on, but he used context clues. It sounded like Mark had fucked up one way or another.

"Make it eighteen," Poppy hissed and pointed in your direction.

Joe could see people around trying to piece together what was going on. A hushed conversation between the three of them, Poppy's extended arm pointed your way - this wasn't difficult to understand. They were figuring something out, and so, nobody interfered.

Mark sighed.

"She's too far gone, it's of no use now. Saying sorry won't do anything. It'll just kick things off again. I honestly didn't think she'd come tonight,"

"Mark, this is our wedding shower, of course she's here. Listen, I'm not going to let–"

"Don't put this on me!"

"I'm not, but, she's your best man!"

Mark and Poppy started bickering a little too loud for Joe's comfort.

"I'll," Joe spoke up loudly, shutting the two of them up instantly. "I'll take care of this,"

"No-" Mark started, one hand up to stop Joe, but Poppy shot him a glare and said, "Let him," and all Mark could do was sigh and let his hand ball into a fist that bumped Joe on the shoulder.

A look was shared between the two men. Joe thought it meant, good luck, but Mark wasn't really sure what he meant. He didn't know what he could've said that would've helped Joe before he turned and made his way back over to you.

Joe politely interrupted the conversation you were having. Mark's brother immediately helped out and diverted your attention to Joe.

"Come," Joe said into your ear, "Let's go sit somewhere,"

Compliant, you immediately followed, much to Joe's surprise. He wasn't going to let you notice that, though.

Joe lead you to seats near the short end of the bar, furthest away from the entrance. It was a little tucked away, but pretty much still out in the open. Mark and Poppy would have had to move just by a few steps to see around the bar, to see the two of you.

You fell into a seat. Nearly missed it. Joe had to reach and grab you by the arm to make sure you didn't topple over.

"Mark says he's sorry," Joe started, but said it all casually like it wasn't a huge deal, and it made you scoff at him.

"Mark can go suck a thousand dicks,"

Joe couldn't help but stifle a laugh as he signed for water to bar staff.

"I'm sure he could,"

"No, he fucking can't," you immediately argued, your face all scrunched up. "He wouldn't know what to even DO with a thousand dicks."

"Mmh, well, I don't..." Joe raised a shoulder. "A thousand is a lot of dicks, to be fair,"

Joe got handed two glasses of water, and held one out to you.

"Drink this,"

"Fuck off," you refused, but didn't put a lot of effort in when Joe forced the glass into your hands.

"Drink it." Joe said sternly.

So, you did. When you wanted to lower the glass after one small sip, Joe didn't let you. Using two fingers pressed to the bottom of the glass, he made sure you downed the full thing.

You gasped for air when you slammed the empty glass down.

"You're– dick," you grumbled.

"I– .... my dick?"

You thought it was stupid how Joe was humouring you. Like you were a toddler.

"Why are we talking about my penis?" Joe's brow was set in a deep frown, but the corners of his mouth gave away the smile underneath.

You sloppily shrugged, all annoyed.

"It's probably pretty, isn't it? You know, in dick terms,"

You got all angry again, but now it was all aimed at Joe instead of at Mark. Which was good, Joe thought.

"Golden boy Joseph," you started, speaking into the room louder than Joe cared for. "Posh little squeaky-clean Joey, with his beautiful pretty penis, ugh, you're the worst,"

Even your facial expressions were slow and messy.

"That's all right," Joe just said. It made you cover your face with both your hands, elbows up on the table, and you groaned loudly.

"You're not the worst, Mark's the worst,"

Oh. Back to Mark.

"And apparently I'm the worst for wanting a plus one,"

You slung your arms about.

"I don't even want to bring anyone!" you defended, "I just asked why I didn't get one because he'd been all vague about it, and he still hasn't fucking said why,"

You nearly hit the empty glass in front of you.

"Careful," Joe warned, sliding it away from you, just in case.

"But obviously I'm awful for even bringing it up,"

Joe saw you look around, in search of Mark, he assumed. You got up a little from your seat, and leant heavily on the small table.

Unable to find him, you opted to just shout, "I'm clearly the worst friend," loudly into the room.

With a warm palm to your shoulder, Joe pushed you to sit back down and as you fell into your chair, your head bobbled.

You looked like you could use some sleep.

Or, some food.

You sighed deeply, clearly annoyed at... everything. Mark, mostly.

Looking at you, there was an overwhelming feeling to protect within Joe. To shield, even if he was unaware of what, exactly.

He just... he needed to make sure you were safe, and he'd use the excuse of Mark keeping tabs on him again if he needed to. It was an easy cover-up. Even if the two of you were fighting, you knew Mark would still need to make sure you were all right. But the way Joe was prepared to throw his own flesh and blood in between you and whatever could do you harm felt new. 

He could’ve never seen it coming.

You were strong. Held the strength of thousands. Were stubborn and didn’t let people mess with you. You could be harsh, and sharp, and if Joe said something wrong, you would always make him feel that he did. Would just get up and leave without feeling bad about it. 

But now Joe understood it was all coping. It was how you’d been shaped. By the years. By others. And Joe wanted to undo it. To fix it. Keep you safe.

From where he was sat, he made eye-contact with Poppy's mother. She looked a little worried, but Joe just smiled. Gave her a little wave. Signaled it was all good, even though he really wasn't sure if it was. 

De-escalate. Take deep breaths. They always helped.

Joe kept looking around. Seeing if he could find Mark after not finding him in the spot he'd been in before. He either needed to get the two of you together, or needed to keep you as far apart as possible at this party. He wasn’t sure which one was better right now. But he needed to at least know of Mark’s whereabouts so that he could decide what was best later. 

A loud gulp of air next to him made Joe turn to look at you.

You were crying. Holding it in, doing deep breaths to not let any audible sobs out, but your mascara was leaving dark tear stains all the way down to your chin.

“Fuck," Joe muttered, and was quick. Looked for napkins, checked tables and the bar surface, but there were none. He then patted his pockets, and immediately screwed up his face - did Joe think he was carrying a handkerchief? Had he ever done that in his life? 

Without anything else around, he then just used his forearm and pressed the inside of it over your cheek, getting the left side of your face. 

You immediately grabbed hold of it, and turned Joe’s arm in your hands to show him what he’d done. 

Black and brown make-up stains on his white sleeve.

“I’ll have it dry cleaned,” he said, twisting his arm out of your grip, “Close your eyes,” and then, he got the other cheek. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. Of course Joe didn’t wash his own shirts. 

"I think I need to leave," you then hiccuped, eyes still closed, Joe now softly wiping the fabric of his shirt against your face. He used the hem to get real close under your eyes, letting fresh tears disappear into the cotton.

"Nah, just need to sober up," Joe said, all casual. Like you hadn't just made an awful entrance and were very clearly ruining your best friend's wedding shower.

"Here." Joe then said, and pushed the second glass of water towards you a little. You'd assumed before that that was Joe's glass, but noticed it was still full and realised he'd gotten both glasses for you to drink. 

"They want you here. You're the best man after all,"

"I'm not so sure anymore," you said after downing more water. "He said some dumb shit, about how I always think everyone's in love with me," you winced, "Knows right where to fucking stab me,"

"Joe!"

Poppy called for him, and when Joe looked, he saw she was smiling. Happily chatting away in a group of girls, some of them bridesmaids, and she beckoned him to come over.

"All right, finish that. I'll be right back, okay? Don't move." Joe said to you before he dashed off.

You watched him walk away before your eyes landed on the glass in front of you.

Water was stupid. Tasted of nothing but your own saliva.

Water could go and fuck itself, like Mark could go fuck himself.

Water could go suck a million dicks, for all you cared.

You wanted more gin.

Mark sucked. And gin didn't.

Poppy pulled Joe into conversation. The girls said Joe's suit had to match their bridesmaids dresses, since he was part of their group. Joe agreed, politely smiled, said he'd wear whatever shade of pink he had to. Poppy swore he looked good in anything, and Joe jokingly agreed that he did.

People were laughing. Having fun. Some started dancing, and Joe thought to himself that this wedding shower was fun. Poppy was smiling, and so he was happy too.

Joe didn't forget about you, but in the crowd, being amongst people, he got swallowed up into conversation for a little bit. Into jokes. Into chats with friends and family, and people were interested in him. Wanted to know all sorts of things, asked him questions, wanted to tell him things.

When Joe eventually made his way back over after a little bit, you were gone, and your table held five glasses - one still with some water in. Four empty. Three with straws in.

Shit.

You'd not listened at all; hadn't finished the water, and you'd clearly moved.

The venue wasn't huge, but it was fairly packed. Looking around, it was impossible to quickly spot you.

He spotted Mark, though.

"Hey,"

"She's vomming," Mark said,

"Toilets?"

"Toilets."

Joe nodded, but didn't walk off yet.

"Do I... should we put her in a cab?"

Mark sighed and found his phone to check the time. The party had been going for a bit already, and Joe could tell he was annoyed.

"Where's Pop?"

"Mingling,"

"Okay, good. That's good."

A silence fell where Mark seemed to think about what would be the best course of action.

"We didn't give plus ones to people we know aren't seeing anyone," Mark then suddenly said, answering a question Joe didn't ask.

"That's why we didn't–"

"Yea man, no worries," Joe quickly replied. He needed Mark to know it wasn't an issue for him at all. Joe didn't want to be the cause of more drama, just wanted to make sure the rest of the night ran as smoothly as it could. Needed to, for Poppy.

"My mum's with her now, but–"

"I'll go, I'll take her outside and get her into a cab." Joe interjected, feeling like he should be the one to handle this. He was the maid of honour who had organised the wedding shower, after all.

"You and Poppy can stay," Joe pointedly said. Then he took Mark by both the shoulders, shook him firmly and pressed, "Celebrate. It's your wedding shower."

Mark turned to see Poppy laughing loudly. Good. Mark cared about a lot of things, but right now, the most important thing was for Poppy to enjoy herself tonight.

Joe found you in the ladies. Mark's mother was stood by the sinks with you, doing her best to wash and wipe the vomit from your hair.

You were a full mess of a girl.

"I'm taking over," Joe said, smiling politely.

"Are you taking her home?"

Joe had told Mark he'd just throw you into a taxi, but his mother made him commit to bringing you all the way to your doorstep.

"Of course," Joe had no other choice.

"Darling," Mark's mother turned back to you and grabbed hold of your face with both hands. A wide grin spread across it as your eyes remained closed. "You're going to get home, eat something, and go to sleep,"

The mere thought of food made you shudder.

"Nothing crazy, just some bread or something, carbs," she quickly added.

When Mark's mother turned to look at Joe again, Joe took it as his sign to take over.

"Come on, we're leaving. Let's go,"

Joe held out an arm, which was meant to just guide you. Get you in front of him so he could maybe hover both hands close to your shoulders to make sure you didn't bump into anything on your way out. Instead, you took hold of it and curled into it, and suddenly Joe had his arm around your neck as you leant into his side and he had to focus all his energy into keeping a straight face.

Getting you outside was easy. Getting rid of the blush on his cheeks wasn't. The fresh air made you push yourself into Joe more, and it made Joe mentally have to count to ten.

Joe was shielding and, fuck, it felt amazing, but he knew he was overstepping. There was no way in hell Joe was going to let people - let you be able to accuse him of taking advantage of a situation. Nothing he was going to do could lead to accusations, Joe needed to make sure of it. Nothing.

Deep breaths. They always helped.

And Joe had to take more deep breaths when a taxi stopped in front the two of you, and you didn't really make any moves to get in by your own accord.

Joe had to use his arms, his hands, his fingers, to manoeuvre you into the backseat and get you into a seatbelt.

"Where to, mate?"

And that's when Joe realised he didn't know your address.

He knew whereabouts you lived - he had walked you home that one time, remember? But what the fuck was your address?

"Um," Joe squeezed his eyes shut for a second.

What the fuck was your address?!

He could contact Poppy, or Mark, but the second he thought of either of them receiving a text or a call from him, he knew how that would make their mood drop. Joe didn't want to be a bother. Couldn't let you be more of a bother than you already had been.

"Just..." Joe looked at you. You were already asleep.

Then, he gave is own address to the cab driver and slid across the seat to get into his own seatbelt.

All right.

This was fine.

Joe had bread. He could give you some bread, have you sleep on his sofa, make sure you were actually okay, and, Joe checked his phone for the time, there'd still be enough time to make it back to the party.

Yes.

This was going to be fine.

You were going to be fine.

But Joe looked over, and you had your head slumped forward and were hanging into every turn and it looked painful.

Protect. Keep you safe.

Joe sighed, undid his seatbelt, got into the seat next to you, buckled up again, and used careful hands to push you into him. Give you something to rest your head on.

And you fucking snuggled.

Deep breaths, Joe. It wasn't that far to go still.

Joe took deep breaths for the rest of the trip, and then Joe took deep breaths as he held you up by slinging one of your arms around his neck as he got you into his house.

More deep breaths when he let you fall back onto his sofa and he saw your dress had ridden up.

More deep breaths as he went to the kitchen to get you bread like Mark's mother had said, and water too. A paracetamol sounded like a good plan as well.

More deep breaths when Joe stepped back into his living room to find an empty sofa.

Footsteps on his stairs.

Fuck.

Joe called for you, followed where the noise came from, and saw you disappear onto the landing.

Fucking fuck. Shit.

With the bread, water, all of it in hand, Joe quickly toed his shoes off and rushed up the stairs after you. Picked up the handbag you'd dropped halfway. He heard the rustling of his duvet and knew he was too late.

Tonight Joe was going to be the one to sleep on the sofa.

Joe wasn't prepared for the sight of you in his bed, your feet still in heels that stuck out on the side. It made him feel too many things at once, your face pressed into his pillow, on his side of the bed. He didn't even care that he'd just witnessed someone washing vomit from your hair.

He placed the water, food and medicine down on his bedside table and knelt down to take your shoes off for you.

Joe was touching the skin of your ankles with his fingertips and he felt his face heat up. Your little hums did not help in the slightest, and even though Joe loved them, none of this felt right.

Joe was overstepping.

With your shoes removed, you slid both legs under the covers and moved to get more comfortable.

"All right," Joe whispered, leaning a little closer to catch sight of your face. "There's some dry bread here on the side, some water, a tablet if you need it, your bag's here, on the floor, and–"

"Mmmhm, 's just a nap," you interrupted and reached a hand up that found Joe's cheek to pat.

It burnt his skin, and he wanted to smile. To allow himself to enjoy your touch, but he couldn't.

Joe reached to draw the covers over your more, tuck you in a little before he'd head out again, and it was the worst thing he could've ever done. Because your hand found his arm and suddenly, you were holding onto Joe's shirt and pried your eyes open to look at your own make-up stains.

"Go, have a nap," Joe cooed, trying to create distance, and fully expected you to close your eyes. You were drunk, so you'd probably fall asleep fast.

Instead, Joe felt his heart skip several beats when you softly said, "Nap with me."

Inhale. Hold.

Hold.

Hold.

Joe couldn't fuck things up any more than he already had, but you were in his bed, on his side of it, and you just asked him to get in as well and, what the fuck?! Joe was just a man. One with insides that churned at the sight of you, even now, all drunk. All soft. And the pillows looked cool, and clean, and inviting. And you asked him to nap with you.  

Exhale.

Joe thought of Poppy.

Thought of Mark.

Thought of how you and Mark met. How you became friends.

Thought of how everything that had happened tonight had lead him to this exact moment.

There was no way Joe was going to go back to the party, still. He should. Probably should, you know, for Poppy. Really didn't want to, though.

He wanted to get into bed with you.

He shouldn't. Really shouldn't. But fuck, he really wanted to. And he could, maybe, if he kept his clothes on. Right? That would be okay, wouldn't it?

Joe took too long. Hovered in the space above you for too long. So you decided for him by also grabbing hold of Joe's arm with your other hand and turning over, essentially encasing yourself into his arm like you'd done earlier when Joe'd lead you outside.

And then you scooted over, further into the bed. Made space behind you, and didn't let go of Joe, pulling him in.

Yea, Joe wasn't going to go back to the party.

Gently, Joe laid down behind you, hoped and prayed you didn't notice- didn't feel the effect it all had had on him below his belt.

"I love a good nap," you whispered, all breathy and gentle, and like you'd done in the cab, you snuggled. Joe had to bite his bottom lip not to let any noise escape him.

Deep breaths.

You were in Joe's bed, in Joe's arms, and you were safe.

Joe got to keep you safe, and suddenly, it all felt right like nothing had been more right ever before.

Rest now, Joe told himself. She's not going anywhere.

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s  @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.1

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which you pack your bags for paris, still unsure of whether or not you’ll return to london for anything other than the rest of your belongings, and anakin is forced to reach out to liz after she crosses another line.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Guilt had followed Anakin all week.

He talked to you for a good hour over the phone on Wednesday, and not once did he mention the fact that Liz had kissed him. He knew the longer he kept it from you, the worse it’ll be for him, but he was terrified of your reaction. 

Anakin had been faithful for nearly five years straight, and the one time he’s away from you for more than a few days he lets another girl get close to him. Close enough for him to break that streak in a single night. 

He knew that as soon as he told you, it could very well be over, and he never wanted to lose you, let alone because of something so out of character for him. 

Still, it wasn’t fair for you to be kept out of the loop, and though he hated to do it, he’d rather tell you in person. He could only hope that you saw it from his perspective, and how hard he’s been trying to get rid of her. 

Anakin was sitting on the couch, the passing scenery doing wonders at keeping his mind busy. He wanted to call you, but you told him that you needed to sort some things out today, and he’d just have to wait until you were able to talk. 

He had headphones on with the track Vinny and Theo had recorded during all the time Anakin spent with Liz, and he felt like the worst excuse of a friend and band member ever. 

They were actually trying to get music out while he just went out and partied. But he wouldn’t be doing that anymore. 

If one good thing came out of that whole club situation and the wake up call, it was that Anakin was finally inspired to write. Theo had come up with the idea to create a slower song rather than the loud and intense songs they’ve been playing for the last year and a half. He was sure it was because the bass player was feeling down a lot lately and needed a way to vent, and Anakin and Vinny were more than willing to agree to it. 

He listened to the track on repeat as he thought about possible lyrics, and Anakin was happy that Vinny had decided to try his luck with a piano. He played it for about four years before he switched to drums, but he clearly still knew how to play the string instrument as it sounded amazing through his headphones. 

Before long, he had a whole page done and was starting his second when Vinny emerged from the back of the bus. His hair was a mess, signaling to Anakin that he had just woken up from a nap. 

Anakin could probably use a few more hours of sleep, too, but he knew it would never come. He’d just end up tossing and turning and wasting time, so he didn’t even bother. 

Vinny sat down next to him with a huff, taking the notebook out of Anakin’s hands as he did so. Anakin scoffed at him, taking off his headphones and setting them aside as he turned to face his friend. “Is this for a new song?” Vinny asked with a yawn as he read over the page.

“Yeah,” Anakin answered, grabbing his phone and sending you a quick text. 

Vinny set the notebook aside after reading it over. “Sounds good,” he mumbled. “Glad to see you got your inspiration back.”

“Yeah, but at what cost,” Anakin muttered.

“Anakin, Y/n will understand,” he tried to reassure him, but probably knew that it was pointless as Anakin would continue to feel like shit until he knew for sure that he wouldn’t lose you because of the mistake he made with Liz.

So when he didn’t respond, Vinny just shook his head and stood back up. He rummaged around in the mini fridge before grabbing two water bottles and heading back to Clara, leaving Anakin to finish up the song he had titled ‘Falling’.

-

“I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time,” you confessed as you sat on the grass in the Quad. “I completely messed up that last assignment. I didn’t even try.” 

Evan gave you a pointed look as he sipped from the straw of his smoothie. “You’re not wasting everyone’s time, Y/n,” he stated, making you roll your eyes. “I’m serious. Kenneth would’ve sent you running on the first day if he thought you were wasting his time.”

You shrug and look at different flights on your phone. “Maybe, but I still accused him of favoring me when he was literally just trying to be nice,” 

“Y/n,” Evan called out to you, making you look up. “You’re a good writer. You’re one of the best in the class, don’t think that you’re not. One bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, you know that.”

You shrug again, sipping on your own smoothie. “Yeah, I guess,” 

Evan set down his drink and moved closer to you. “I mean it. You’re going places…if you decide to stay, that is. While it’ll certainly give me a better chance at getting published, it’ll still suck to lose you. But if you’re no longer happy here, then you deserve to do something that does make you happy.”

You give him a smile and lean over to hug him quickly. “Thanks, Ev,” 

He returned the hug before standing up. “Are you coming to class today?” 

You think about it for a few seconds then shake your head. “No, I have some thinking to do,”

He nods and gives you a reassuring smile. “Okay, I’ll just see you later then,”

You nod back and watch as he makes his way to the building the class is in before pulling out your phone. 

Ani: I hope you’re having a better day today, baby. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I love you. 

The text brings a smile to your lips as you stand up and throw away your garbage as you reply to him.

So far so good. I can’t wait to see you, too, Ani. I love YOU.

You head in the opposite direction of your class, planning on going back to your room and packing your bag for Paris. Maybe you’d even start packing up to go back home. While Evan’s attempts at reassuring you were nice, you still didn’t feel confident in yourself anymore. 

Anakin had even tried to reassure you, but he also said that you didn’t have to force yourself to stay if it wasn’t what you wanted anymore, and to have that support from him had your head feeling clearer than it had in weeks. 

If all else failed, you still always had him, and that was enough for you to know that you’d be okay. 

You pack the essentials and set your bag down next to your desk before sitting down on your bed. Grabbing your phone, you begin to look through more flight options. There was one for three in the afternoon, meaning you’d be able to be in Paris by five thirty at the latest. You’d have to swing by class tomorrow to talk to Kenneth, and to possibly say goodbye to him. 

You really weren’t sure if you were going to come back for anything other than the rest of your belongings once Anakin and the guys leave France and you’d have to say goodbye again. Maybe you could just pack the rest of your things and meet him at the next location. You wouldn’t mind sharing that small bunk with him for the next two months, and you knew he wouldn’t mind either. 

Without another thought, you buy the ticket and set your phone down, pulling out your laptop and continuing to write the rough draft of your short story, despite your plans potentially dropping the class.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and before you knew it, it was the next morning and you were packing last minute things and making sure you had your ticket ready. You set everything on your bed, excitement pulsing through you at the fact that you’d be seeing Anakin in less than nine hours.

His text had you feeling the happiest you’ve been all week, and you had shamelessly read it more than once. 

Ani: I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve missed you so much, princess.

He was the sweetest, and you were shaking with nerves at the thought of feeling his arms around you again after four weeks of zero physical contact.

You leave your dorm and make your way to class, well aware that it had ended at nine and it was now nearing ten. With a quick inhale, you enter the classroom and meet Kenneth’s eyes from across the room. He was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed as he looked back down at the papers he was reading. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Glad to see you could make it to class today, though you are an hour late and the class is already over.”

Giving him a forced and embarrassed smile, you step into the room. “Yeah,” you trail off, playing with your fingers as you stand by the door. “I’m sorry I missed the last two classes, it’s just….I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

Kenneth didn’t look up from the papers as he said, “Well, you’ve certainly done a great job at trying to prove that,” 

Your face heats up and you look at the floor. “Yeah…I’m really sorry, Kenneth,” you murmur, glancing down at the A on your wrist. You feel the smallest bit of comfort from just looking at it, and you lift your head with a newfound confidence. “I didn’t mean to waste your time. That was the last thing I wanted to do.” 

That had your instructor looking up at you. He studied your face for a few seconds before sitting up in his chair. “You didn’t waste my time, Miss Y/l/n,” he stated. “In fact, I quite enjoyed reading your previous pieces, so I don’t know why you think you wasted anyone’s time.”

You shrug at him and avoid eye contact. You just needed to get through this, then you could go to the airport and be with Anakin again after a month of not seeing him. 

“I assume you came here to tell me that you’re dropping out?” Kenneth asks and you look over at him.

“Do you think I should?” You ask.

“That’s not up to me,” he says. “It’s your choice.”

You huff, “Do you think I’m…..good enough?”

Kenneth raises his brows. “Do I think you’re good enough?” He repeated your question and leaned back. “I think you’re a great writer, Miss Y/l/n, and it would be  unfortunate to lose you before I got to really see what you can do. But, it’s your decision, and I can’t make it for you.”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Right. I guess that’s a good answer,” 

He returns the smile before asking, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m….my boyfriend is performing at a few venues in Paris, so I’m going to meet him there,” you tell him. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be missing a few classes next week.”

Kenneth nods. “It might be best for you to take some time to figure out what you want to do,” he says. “If you decide to stay, there’s always a spot for you in my class, but if you want to go then I can’t stop you. But just know that one bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, and you shouldn’t let it have that much control over you.”

Your smile fades a bit at how similar his and Evan’s words are. Maybe they were right. “I’m trying,”

He shrugged, “That’s all you can do,” 

A few seconds pass before you nod. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to be rushing to the airport,” 

“Before you go,” he called out to you just as you began to turn around. “I want you to know that, whatever you decide to do, I support you.”

That had a genuine smile forming on your lips. “Thank you, Kenneth, and I’m sorry for…everything,”

Then you were off. You headed back to your room to grab your bag, finding Evan leaning against the wall next to your door. Your look of surprise had him raising his brows, “What, you thought I was gonna let you leave without saying goodbye to me first? Especially since I might never see you again after this?”

You laugh and walk into his open arms. “I haven’t decided if I’m dropping the class or not, Ev,” you say and rest your head against his chest. “And I’d say goodbye to you before I left, anyway.” 

“How generous,” he teased and pulled away. His eyes flickered all over your face before he met your gaze. “Have fun, okay? Go spend time with your famous boyfriend, and don’t worry about anything else, alright? You deserve it.”

You smile and nod, “Okay,” you agree. “I’ll see you next week, Evan. Promise.”

He squinted his eyes at you. “You better,” he said back, giving you another smile before leaving. You grab your bag and look around your room one last time before setting down the note you had written to Bailey. She was still at her parents house since there was some family emergency, and you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to her. 

You leave it on her bed before locking the door and ordering a ride to the airport, the stress of everything finally beginning to lift once you’re seated on the plane. 

-

Anakin could not stop pacing the length of the small hallway on the bus. 

He was shaking, he was so excited to see you. 

He couldn’t think about much else other than your sweet scent, your kind smile, your achingly pretty face, and the way your body fit perfectly against his own. He was craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe he had gone a month without you.

Vinny was watching him with a tired expression, his arm draped over Clara’s shoulders as she slept next to him on the couch. “Dude,” he grunted after watching him pace a few more times. “What are you doing? Why are you pacing?”

Anakin flexed his fingers as he shrugged, passing by the brunet once again. “I can’t help it,” he answered. “I have to leave in less than half an hour to pick her up and bring her back here. Half an hour, Vin, then she’s here.”

Vinny let out a laugh of disbelief, glancing down at his sleeping girlfriend. “I hope she’s this excited to see me at some point in the future,” he muttered to himself as Anakin tried to calm himself down. 

“I missed her so much, Vin,”

“I know,”

“I can’t wait to see her,”

“I know, Anakin,”

“Please tell me that you and Clara are doing something tonight,” Anakin was powerless to stop the desperation from coming through in his voice.

Vinny smirked up at him, “Is that your way of asking if the bus will be empty tonight?”

“I need to be alone with her,” Anakin groaned. “I need it to be just the two of us, so we can talk. I need to clear a few things up with her.”

Vinny laughed. “I understand, man,” he said. “I’ll take Clara out for dinner or something and we’ll tour the Paris nightlife.”

Anakin gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” then he checked his phone and nearly dropped it when he saw Liz’s newest Instagram post. “Fuck.”

It was a close up picture of Anakin on stage a couple nights ago, his hair damp and his skin sweaty as he finished the last song of the set. He remembered feeling the high of that night, and he would’ve been happy to see that Liz had captured a photo of it, but right now all he felt was rage as he read the caption. 

elizaphotography: Thought you’d all enjoy a hot, up close and personal shot of the sexy lead singer of Screaming Whispers ;) 

She added a bunch of stupid hashtags and even tagged him, and Anakin wanted to throw his phone at the nearest wall. Vinny must’ve sensed the sudden change as he sat up a bit and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“She- I can’t fucking believe her,”

Vinny reached forward and grabbed his phone, his gaze hardening once he saw the post. “Wow, this bitch won’t quit,” he muttered, reading the caption over and over again. “She must think she’s invincible or some shit, because- what are you doing?”

Anakin had swiped his phone out of Vinny’s hand and clicked on Liz’s contact as he left the bus, hoping that the air would cool him off at least a little. It rang for a few seconds before the call connected, “Ah, I knew that would get your attention,”

“Back off, Liz,” Anakin rasped, leaning against the side of the bus as he felt his heartbeat quicken. “I mean it.”

“You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, Anakin,” she stated. “You’re acting like a prick. I thought we were friends.”

“You thought wrong,” he said and tried to take back control of his breathing. “Change that caption, or better yet, delete the entire fucking post.”

Liz hummed, “Thought I was allowed to post you? In fact, it’s on the contract that I get your image out there for the world to see,” she laughed. “Well, it says something like that, anyway.”

“I’m not joking, Liz,” he muttered under his breath, and her annoying voice had his body heating up in rage.

“I’m not joking either, Anakin,” she said back. “You led me on. I can claim that. Don’t piss me off, Anakin, or I’ll tell Y/n myself that you cheated on her.”

“I didn’t-”

“But you did,” she cut him off. “I’m living proof.”

“What do you want, Liz? Huh?” Anakin asked in frustration as he tugged on his hair. “Why do you insist on being such a-”

“A what, Anakin? What?” She pressed. “Call me anything other than my name, and I’ll message her right now.”

Anakin bit his tongue, holding back on calling her every bad name he could think of, because it really wouldn’t help much at all. “Keep her out of this,” he said as calmly as he could. He didn’t like her holding you over him like this when she had no fucking clue about anything involving yours and his relationship. She was just the fucking tour photographer, why did she think she had such an important role in his life? 

“Yeah,” she hummed. “Maybe I’ll do that.” 

Then she hung up and Anakin cursed under his breath as he opened the Instagram app. He deleted all the photos she took of him from his account, wanting nothing to do with her at all anymore. Sure, the photos were great and he actually liked them quite a lot, but he refused to be associated with her in any way. 

Before he got off the app, he clicked on Liz’s account and saw that she did actually change the caption, but it still didn’t settle the anger brewing within him. Without a second thought, he blocked her and pocketed his phone after calling a ride that would take him to the airport and to you.

-

They reunite soon :') (but is that a good thing?)

[mooncello]

Thanks for the tags @artsyunderstudy (queuing up some star trek snowbaz for tonight) and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe (simply cannot wait for this fic to premiere). And thanks to everyone who has tagged me recently. I've been quiet for a few weeks. Life and work and mental health shit, but also I got so very stuck with both my wips. I invested a lot of creative energy into lost boys and then got ... lost tbh. Burned out. All the joy got sucked out, which broke my heart. It's on a shelf right now. I'll return to it (that Baz is very precious to me) but I need a break. I can't bear to look at it atm.

And then! My COBB decided to set fire to my original outline and go off on an unanticipated hike through the woods without a map. No nav equipment. I'm not even confident it knows which star is north. It's just ... wandering around with zero fucks about due dates or timelines, which has sent me into a panic spiral. My one wip is an angsty teenager who has shut himself in his room and refuses to talk (and like same dude), and the other thinks they're Bear Grylls with the survival instincts of a spoiled house cat. EPIC TIMES.

So I started a new wip. (Obviously.)

I needed something fun. Joyful. Something that reminded me why I like writing in the first place. And my boys Dev and Niall fucking showed up, and I'm halfway done with a lil Watford-era, canon divergent wip from their perspectives. It's the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written, and I'm having a blast. Eternal love to my fellow Dev/Niall stan and comrade (and beta!) @valeffelees, and to @bookish-bogwitch and @thewholelemon for cheering this fic on. And thanks to @iamamythologicalcreature and @best--dress for chatting about craft and process and validating that sometimes projects need rest and restoration, and breaks are a natural part of creativity.

Short snip of untitled deniall fic below the cut:

Niall POV, Watford, year 7

“You’re the worst, Niall.” I grin. “So you always say.” I stretch my arms up and flex my fingers before interlacing them behind my head. “And yet you keep running to me for advice.” Dev’s nostrils flare, and there’s a very real moment I think he’s gonna punch me in the shoulder, but then his face splits into a sharp, crooked smile, and he shucks off his blazer. He tosses it toward his bed, but it only partially makes it and falls to the floor.   “You give the best advice,” Dev says, and I see the flash of his tongue piercing. “You’re so practical.”  He begins undressing. Casual, unhurried movements, until his entire school uniform is a wrinkled bundle on his bed, sans jacket which is still on the floor, and he’s rooting around his dresser in nothing but pants and socks. The light from the late afternoon sun cuts through our window of Mummers, casting him in muted orange and amber. He does this all the time. Mindlessly strips in front of me. We don’t have an ensuite like Baz does (the lucky bastard), and Dev has always been comfortable in his body. He’s open and confident in a way that makes my chest ache. I wish I were more like that, but I’m sinew and bone whereas Dev is polish and muscle. Half the time I feel like something the cat drags in, and Dev, well … Dev’s the cat.

tags and hellos 🩵 @drowninginships, @run-for-chamo-miles, @youarenevertooold, @blackberrysummerblog, @orange-peony

@hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @shrekgogurt, @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @emeryhall, @rimeswithpurple, @shemakesmeforget

@raenestee, @skeedelvee, @rbkzz

[syn4k]

this is ABSOLUTELY jordan with jerry.

(for those unaware: jerry is a baby slime that jordan captainsparklez found in one of his minecraft letsplays a LONG time ago. baby slimes in minecraft are less than a block tall, have half a heart of health, and are in fact so small that they can't even hurt the player by jumping up and squishing them like bigger slimes do, thus making them utterly and completely harmless. after jerry hopped in front of jordan and took an arrow for him, jordan decided to take him as soon as the sun rose. when he got back, jerry the slime was gone. every series jordan has made after that one has either featured a reincarnation of jerry or had some sort of homage to jerry in it. i think about this extremely frequently. wow that got long)

anyways, in every season of mianite jerry has been there at some point and he has always been some sort of gift (either from the wizards (s1) or the gods (s2)). i saw the tweet above and i went okay. Jerry could be a perfectly normal baby slime who nobody fucks with simply because Jordan will literally summon all the powers of Heaven and Hell for revenge if they ever touch his boy. that makes sense. but what if jerry was secretly super powerful and nobody knows because he's so unassuming, kind of like the immortal snail that instakills you if you touch it?

the scenario i'm imagining is this: someone breaks into jordan's house in the middle of the night to get cheese or something. probably tom. he's being super quiet and super sneaky. he has an invisibility potion on and everything. everything is going great until he turns to leave when Suddenly,

jordan, from somewhere out of sight: GET HIM, JERRY!

jerry the baby slime (small) (baby) (pretty damn harmless) drops in from the ceiling and starts hopping slowly but ominously towards tom.

now, you see, at this point tom is like "is he serious?" which is a great question to ask because he knows (or thinks he knows) that jerry cant do shit. he knows that this is definitely a distraction and that jordan is about to wreck his shit. however, he Also knows that if he does anything at all to jerry then jordan will have a great reason to have it out for him for the rest of eternity.

jerry is still approaching.

tom double checks all the exits just to make sure, walks forwards, gently nudges jerry aside with his foot so that he can get the fuck out of there, and Instantly Fucking Dies.

he did not account for the possibility that jerry is partially made up of a very strong, very fast acting poison that kills everyone upon contact (except jordan obviously), which makes sense because that's fucking wild and no sane person would consider that while raiding their friend's house for bread at 3am.

(also nobody except for jordan has ever touched jerry before so how would they know?)

the worst part is that this sounds exactly like the type of thing tom would make up to explain dying after breaking into jordan's house, so he can't even go to anyone to bitch about it. when questioned about the incident, jordan just gives whoever asked a Look that says "you actually believe that Jerry the baby goddamn Slime killed Tom?? Jerry, who couldn't hurt a baby chicken if he wanted to??? Fucking Jerry?????" and they go "yeah ok" and drop it.

thank you for coming to my ted talk. i might write a oneshot about this.

[an-idiot-in-fandoms]

Theoretically [Jason Todd x Reader]

a/n: kind of doesn’t make sense but it’s cute

“Consider this,” you spoke, whilst laying on the floor, breaking the comfortable silence that had been built up over the past half an hour.

“Immediately no,” Jason denied, not even looking up from his copy of Dostoyevsky's ‘Notes From The Underground’.

“I didn’t even tell you anything!” you objected, folding your arms defensively.

“I know,” he replied, turning a page, “so I’m stopping you know. I know you’re about to say something dumb that’s gonna distract me.”

“Not everything I say is dumb.”

“Yeah you’re right; only around 92% of it is,”

“You’re so mean to me!” you turned on your side, and huffed, though you mainly did it to hide your grin. 

Your goal had been to initiate a conversation, since you really, really, really wanted to talk with him, and now you were doing so. As stupid as it sounded, you adored hearing his husky, low voice, it made you feel comforted. On the rare occasion, he’d even read to you, when he was in a good mood, and those times were a gift from skydaddy himself. 

Because you got to hear him say this aloud, from ‘A Room With A View’: “It isn’t possible to love and to part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.” And good god, your insides melted every time he said something romantic from the book like that. It made good food for your own self indulgent fantasies.

Now, time to reel him into a discussion. “So, take what I say with a grain of salt,” you granted, “y’know, seasoning is important... but not so much that it clogs your arteries.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I think we should go back to the drawing board, since I’m shit at writing, so I should try my hand at arts and crafts---”

“(Y/n), just get to the point,”

Ouch, he sounded irritated.

“Well, uh,” you stumbled, not having properly thought this through, “I think that... that...”

“Thinking is always dangerous when it’s going on in your head,” Jason snorted dismissively, “just go back to your nap and be quiet. I’m trying to get through this book.”

Hm. That didn’t go as well as you thought it would. As you rolled onto your side, so your back was facing him, you couldn’t help but feel slightly upset by his bluntness; usually he’d at least wait until you had finished explaining yourself.

Mission failed. We’ll get ‘em next time.

Another three minutes passed, in which you stewed in your own overthinking about the incident, and hugged yourself for comfort, wondering if you’d made him truly angry. You certainly hoped not, that would be the worst thing to happen to you since you had to start paying taxes. Making yourself small, you curled up, and stared at the wall, attempting to distract yourself with meaningless existential crises.

Then, “(Y/n)?” his tone was soft, somewhat concerned. “Aren’t you gonna tell me?”

You frowned, and didn’t respond, petty as ever.

Jason audibly sighed, and shut his novel, before much to your shock, you felt him get up and sit down next to you, his knees pressing against your back. “What’s wrong?” he chuckled lightly, “Usually you’re on my ass when I talk back.”

You peeked up at him curiously, to find him with a wry smile tugging at his lips, with the white streak falling over his forehead, and his teal eyes glittering with an emotion you couldn’t quite comprehend. Swallowing, you pulled yourself together, unnerved by his sudden gentleness and close proximity, “You told me to be quiet, so I’ll be quiet. Jackass,” you added stubbornly.

There was a pause, as you looked away again, and glared at the wall with a wrinkled nose of annoyance. Then, he placed a warm hand on your shoulder, and leaned down, much to your surprise. “You need to stop overthinking everything I say.”

“I don’t,” you mumbled.

“Liar,” he chided, “I can see the cogs turning in that pretty head of yours.”

(Woah, ok, uh, stay calm everyone, it’s happening.)

“Ok, sometimes I do overthink things,” you grumbled. “But how can you blame me? I don’t want you to leave me.”

His warm fingers trailed down your arm, then down to your lower stomach, before he settled his soothing grasp on in dip of your hips. “It isn't possible to love and part,” he whispered, in that angelic baritone you loved so very much. “You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.”

It was like he fucking knew you adored hearing him say that.

You gulped. “Experience? Who’s the lucky person who seduced you?”

“It’s difficult to admit it,” he confessed, “since they’re lying on the floor.”

Instantly you cracked your head around to stare at him, yet he was somehow already there, grabbing your chin, and tilting your face sideways, so Jason could press his lips to yours, hard and affirming. You breathed in so sharply that your ribcage almost broke, and you clasped his wrist in confusion; his nose pressed into your cheek, his mouth demanding and noisy, as he pushed you further and further down, till your back hit the ground. You clutched the back of his shirt to pull him down with you, causing both of you to become a puddle of icohorigable limbs, only joined together by the messy kiss you two were caught in.

You moved back, at last, breathing heavily, hot and flustered, as he towered over you, panting in equal measure. “You owe me a dinner date,” you declared shortly.

Jason laughed, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

[karume-everything-else]

Whumptober 2023

Day 7: "Don't you see I'm trying?" [Reader x Frieza] {Dragon Ball Z/ Super}

This was getting to be annoying. You could understand a lot of things, but being kept secret when Frieza was a literal tyrant who could easily silence anyone while he did whatever the hell he wanted was just too much for you. If you were honest with yourself, it felt like he was ashamed to be dating at all...

And that just hurt.

But there was no one you could really talk to, not without explaining who you were talking about. Being on Frieza's main ship wasn't helping anything because everyone on board was precisely who you knew weren't supposed to know in the first place. It was maddening.

You were contemplating just asking to leave the ship.

It wasn't like you wanted to leave permanently, you just needed a break from the secretive life. A way to make sure you were sane and justified in thinking this way instead of rolling with whatever Frieza said you had to be okay with. Especially since you didn't know if you could talk to Frieza about this.

He seemed pretty adverse to the topic in general.

But it wasn't like you could avoid him forever, not when he was prone to entering your room whenever he felt like it. Annoying in its own right mind, but at least it meant he cared on some level.

"[Name]? Have you been avoiding me?" He flicked his tail, "I haven't seen you around the ship as much as usual."

You had options of course, but it was just a little too much on your mind, "In a manner of speaking, I've just been thinking about a few things."

"About what?"

Frieza was doing his utmost to not show how terrified he was at this moment. The vague phrasing in particular had him completely on edge. If you were thinking about things, that could very well mean that you were thinking about leaving him or turning against him. The worst would be having to harm you if you turned out to be a spy or traitor or whatever the humans called the sneaky lovers.

"About how you want to keep us private." You sat on the bed, unsure what all to do, you weren't packing or anything, "I mean, you're literally an intergalactic dictator, according to Vegeta. But you have to keep me a secret as if someone is going to get onto you? I know how strong you are, so why?"

Frieza flicked his tail again, "I wasn't aware you knew about that. It hasn't been the way you think it is however."

"Then explain it to me so I can understand it."

You were the only person Freiza would ever let dare speak to him in that tone. At least, given that you weren't a fighter, you couldn't even out-strategize him.

"I am just a little concerned about how my men will treat you knowing that you are important to me in that way." Frieza looked off, hoping you wouldn't see through the half-truth, "Not to mention the risk of you being kidnapped by my enemies. I couldn't bear the torment of knowing I was the reason you were hurt."

"But I stay on your ship pretty much all the time." You huffed, "And I doubt your men would really care all that much. Hell, they are jealous that I have the 'unobtainable' rank. I'm more likely to get hurt at the hands of your men now."

He backed up a little, that hadn't been something he even remotely considered. It wasn't something he'd seen directly either. Though perhaps that was his own fault...

"And besides, it would take a lot of convincing for me to go anywhere that wasn't somewhere you told me to go directly. I might not be all that strong, but I'm not gullible. I--"

"[Name], [Name]. Please stop." Frieza moved closer, grabbing your shoulder gently, "I... I get it. The... the truth is I'm more trying to come to terms with being in a relationship than anything else."

You sat there, blinking at Frieza, "It's been over two years. And you're still not comfortable with telling others we're together?"

"Can't you see I'm trying?" He squeezed your shoulder a little harder than he should have, panicking as you crumbled under the pressure. "I... I'm sorry. Please, hold still. Let me see..."

Tears forming in your eyes from both physical and emotional pain. Yes, one was far worse than the other, but both hurt. Having to live with the fact that the person who asked you to join them as a domestic partner wasn't even comfortable being in this situation was never an easy truth to swallow. And with him being more than capable of getting rid of you in any number of ways was just a bit much.

"[Name], I..." Frieza sighed a little, struggling to figure out what to say, "Please, try to understand. My kind don't fall in love as easily as you made it. This is still very new to me, its rather alien..."

A soft, nervous chuckle filled the room, "But I am trying. I promise. I... I love you, [Name]. That's all there is to it."

[cyberrose2001]

Girl, I have a good one for you. If you recall the episode s2 ep21 in TFP when Prime got the Starsaber destroyed. He had a bit of an attitude at the end. Sure, everyone could understand why, but it makes you curious.

Place a f!human reader, supposely close to him. She cannot stand him acting this way and basically yells and bitches at him. In the end, he argues back which frighten her since she hasn't seen him mad. She runs only for him to come and apologize leading to confession and a nice NSFW!!

Consequences

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

I'm so sorry that this took waaay longer than intended, my word doc glitched and didn't save half of it so I had to rewrite the rest from memory :(

Either way, Medli, your requests are always so delicious to write, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral sex.

Word count: 2531

You can't stand him being like this, cold and distant. Optimus had just returned from retrieving the first set of the precious Omega keys that supposedly would revive Cybertron, but only with great sacrifice.

It was bad enough that Optimus thought he had lost another team member at the hands of Megatron, our rookie who tends to bite off more than he can chew. He hid his emotions well, but at that point, you could tell in his optics that he was about to snap. A force that you were sure would send shockwaves throughout the team and across the cosmos.

You knew that impact was evident when you watched Optimus walk through the ground bridge with a shattered Star Saber. A powerful weapon forged by the Primes solely delivered for Optimus's use is now destroyed, broken beyond repair. You can feel his EM field in the air, instantly dampening the atmosphere in the room. It's heavy, laden with sorrow and, worst of all, silent.

He hadn't said a word to you. Not even a glance or a nod. Nothing, nada. He skipped past everyone's worried looks and made a bee-line to the base computer, where the next set of Iacon coordinates remained projected onto the screen, waiting for him to decode them. The emotions on Optimus's face were difficult to read, a mixture of despair, desolation and, most of all, focus, all colliding behind these brilliantly blue optics you've come to love and drown yourself in.

But those hardened eyes won't prevent you from giving him a stern talking-to. You've grown close with the stoic leader for the short time you've known him compared to his potential billion-year lifespan. You're not afraid to tell him to take a break or say things how it was, no matter his intellect. And right now, the Prime needs a break.

You slowly approach him from behind. Even when he is helm deep in the monitor's circuits, you are sure he can still hear you. After all, Archivists were the eyes and ears of his home planet. You give him a light tap on his pede to try and draw his attention to you.

"Hey." You call out to him. His frame is unmoving, delicate servos feverishly typing away. He hadn't seemed to notice you, or maybe he was ignoring you. You give him another firm tap of your foot, which turns into kicking.

"HEY!" You yell to him, "I know your ears work. Get your head out of the computer and stop ignoring me!"

That got his attention. His servos stopped in their tracks, but his back still faced you. He seems to be listening.

"You need to take a break. You're overworking yourself." You fold your arms, "Those coordinates can wait. You can't decode them properly while your processor fries from lack of recharge."

"I'm fine." He says bluntly, not even bothering to turn and look at you.

If there's one thing you hate more than being ignored, it's when Optimus lies through his teeth.

"Optimus, you're not fucking fine!" In frustration, you throw your hands in the air, "Don't lie to me because I know when you do. Ever since you got back, you've totally ignored everyone… your team… even me! You're being a total bitch to everyone that actually cares about you. That's not who you are. Now, it's best that you get your head out of your aft and that damn computer and get some fucking rest!"

Now that struck a chord. Optimus spins around fast, slamming a fist into the concrete floor next to you and sending debris into the air, some almost hitting your face. He crouches close to your frame, harsh ex-vents grace over your body, and whips your hair around. But you stand your ground, albeit slightly terrified at the change of Optimus's demeanour.

"I do not suppose you believe Megatron wouldn't stop at nothing to get his claws on the next Iacon relics?" He growls. He's so close to you that you can see every dent and imperfection on his faceplate, some from his most recent battle with the Decepticon tyrant, "I will NOT stop until I decode the remaining coordinates. I will not let you or anyone prevent me from doing so. So if you would be so kind…"

He looms closer to you. He's growling at you. You step back but almost trip on the rubble scattered behind you, "Leave me alone."

You're trembling because of two potential reasons. Optimus has never raised his voice or got angry at you, not even at the other bots. And the second is the ungodly amount of blood rushing to your loins. You're at his mercy under his gaze. While you are surprisingly horny, you're intimidated by the pinpoint optics burning holes in your body.

"Fine. You wanna be left alone? Then I'll leave you alone." Your own fists are clenching now. You can't look vulnerable before him, "Come find me when you're not busy making out with the computer screen."

And with your final blow, you turn on your heel and storm out of the base, ignoring the wide-eyed faces of the other bots, who had unfortunately witnessed the whole thing. You didn't care where you were running to; you just needed to get out of there and blow off some steam. Something that Optimus should be doing as well.

-

Optimus watched you run out of the base, his optics softening a fraction. While what he said about not resting until he decodes the rest of the coordinates was true, Optimus caught himself lying when he told you to leave. You were the only thing preventing him from breaking down and losing his shit. You are why he hasn't locked himself in a stasis pod and cranked the dial to ten billion years so that he doesn't have to endure a moment longer of this Primus-forsaken war.

But watching the human he loved run away from him, he realised his mistake. Optimus has just pushed away the only human tethering him to the edge of a self-hatred cliff, and he's just cut the cord.

He releases his death grip on the crumbled floor, letting the pebbles fall out of the servos. You probably hate him now. You probably don't even want to see him again, and he doesn't blame you. But the least he could do was apologise before you leave for good.

-

Your feet are starting to ache. You know you've been walking for a while when there's nothing but desert sand and the worn-down asphalt of the road to keep you company.

You hadn't meant what you said to Optimus to come out so harsh. Most of the time, when you would first tell him to recharge, he would be reluctant but would oblige. Tough love was your philosophy. But this time, your philosophy may have been a step too far today. You greatly underestimated how stressed the Prime was. That was a mistake on your part. That fact that he was grieving the potential loss of a teammate and the weapon that could win the war? It would've helped if you were more understanding and compassionate.

You should turn back; the sun was beginning to set. It looks beautiful, and you wish Optimus was here because you know he would enjoy this as much as you do.

Speak of the devil. A low rumbling noise grows louder from some distance behind you; you know it's Optimus. Most likely coming to banish you from the base for how you spoke to him.

He rolls behind you and flashes his high beam, and you stop. You can feel and hear him transform behind you, but you don't turn to look at him because you feel ashamed.

"Optimus, I'm sorry for how I spoke to you." You take a deep breath and cradle your arms to your stomach, "I… I didn't realise how troubled you are about…"

A cold servo wraps around your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your body. Optimus carefully spins you around to face him, and he oozes your exact amount of regret. His optics cast a brilliant glow across your form, and the remaining flickers of the sunset reflect off his metal, casting him in an orange hue.

"Y/n, I should be the one who apologises." His downturned dermas hurt your heart, "There was no justification for my actions. I should not have lashed out at you the way I did."

"But there was justification for it, and I was careless about your feelings." You say, bringing a hand to the servo resting on your shoulder, "I shouldn't have said those things, I realise now."

A small smile creeps into the corner of Optimus's dermas, "Perhaps not, and while I am very saddened by today's events, I do not think you realise how much your words encourage me."

"But…" You're cut off by a smooth thumb brushing over your cheek.

"I should have told you this a long time ago, but… Primus, you are the only thing in this universe holding me together." He takes a sharp intake, "I love you more than anything."

Your breath catches in your throat. Optimus, the greatest warrior to ever grace this Earth, just confessed to you. In the middle of the desert, when the temperature is dropping but you don't even feel it because the warm glow of his optics and his confession sparks a fire in your chest.

"Optimus… I do… I love you… I." You struggle to find the words—instead, you involuntary shiver.

Of course, Optimus notices and give you a slight chuckle, "It is getting cold. May you accompany me back to base?"

You nod, and instantly, he transforms into his alt mode, leaving the passenger door open for you and you make haste and climb in, and he buckles the seat belt for you. Staring out the window to witness the last of the sunset, resting your head against the window as Optimus turns his heater on for you. You sigh in contentment as he pulls onto the road and journeys home.

-

"OptiMUUS… hngh… please." You whine from the bed and tug at the restraints on your wrists, soft, breathless begging as Optimus's grip on your thighs tightens and relaxes with every swipe of his glossa.

You could say that this was a form of payback, a playful punishment from when you yelled at him earlier. Even though he had forgiven you for saying those harsh words, he told you on the way home that he still needed to "put you in your place". At the time, you had no idea what that entailed, but little did you know the method Optimus liked to 'punish' you was to edge you on the cusp of euphoria multiple times only to deny you of any orgasm.

It was torture, but you kind of deserved it.

"P-Please, fuck…" You beg, writhing your hips as Optimus drags his glossa around your folds, then circles your clit, "I can't- no more… FUCK."

It was an endless back-and-forth pattern. Optimus would lick your folds and collect your fluids on his glossa before dragging it back to your clit, circling it and increasing the pressure momentarily. And just when you were so close to cumming he would stop teasing the bundle of nerves and go back to licking strips up your pussy. You tried rocking your hips desperately to chase the high, but it was in vain as he would instantly pull away and watch as your hips writhe around to find friction.

"I do believe you are close. Am I correct to assume so?" Optimus grins, pressing light kisses to the inside of your thigh and, in turn, smearing your fluids over your soft sweaty skin.

"You asshole," You groan as he presses a firm kiss to your clit, "You know I am-aahHHH!"

Your whine cuts you off as Optimus wraps his dermas around your clit and gives you a harsh suck, and rolls it around his denta.

"I do not like your choice of words, Y/n." He growls against your clit, sending vibrations throughout your body, "I am not the 'asshole' you speak of."

The sucking at your clit sends electrical shocks through your thighs, making them shake and clench around his helm. Your hands find purchase on the berth under you, and you grip the sheet so hard you can feel it rip. You can feel him smiling against your mound as you thrust your hips into his intake, finally feeling your orgasm wash over you. It was sweet relief from a long two hours of edging, and you weren't sure how much longer you could've handled his glossa torturing you.

Optimus lifts his helm from your pussy, and you're trying so hard not to whine as you watch him lick up a string of arousal still attached to his dermas.

"F-Fuck…" You whimper, hips stuttering. The torment is finally over, you think. But you were severely wrong when you felt a cold digit rub at your folds, and he pushed it inside. You cry in overstimulation as he curls the digit, pressing against your G-Spot in a mind-numbing, relentless thrust. Similar to Megatrons antics in retrieving those Iacon relics, this bastard is stopping at nothing until he retrieves every last orgasm from your trembling body.

Optimus chuckles as you throw your head back and try to maneuver your hips away from his servos. He's enjoying watching you become an overstimulated mess, he's getting a high out of it, and it's taking all your strength not to slap him in the helm. You love him, but this is getting too much for you.

"You seem to be enjoying your punishment, hm?" Optimus smirks and strums his thumb to your already hyper-sensitive clit, "It certainly looks that way. I wonder if I can make you overload again."

You let out a string of swears as he thrusts his digit with haste, his thumb circling your clit and increasing the pressure. The wet sounds between your thighs are lewd and only add to your pleasure. The room becomes hazy and distant as you clench around his digit, and a second orgasm slams your body within the span of two minutes. Optimus lets out a guttural groan as he feels your walls clench around his digit; Primus knows what it would feel like with his throbbing spike inside you.

Optimus watches as you pant, sweat covering your entire skin. He gives a breathless laugh and leans down to kiss your soft lips, his glossa transferring some of your fluids onto your tongue. During the kiss, he groans as he slowly drags his digit out of your dripping pussy and relishes the little whine you give him.

"You're mean." You groan out against his intake. Your body is exhausted from his torment, and you're sure he can feel your muscles quivering against his plating. He innocently chuckles as if he hadn't just made a mess of you.

"I can assure you this was a one-off. No more torment, love." Optimus kisses your forehead, servos tracing circles on your thighs, "But on this occasion, you needed to know the consequences of your actions in future."

[joesalw]

i feel like an ex-mormon even talking about this but like, i kinda need to say it out loud;i started listening to her around 1989, and i liked her songs, i liked the general sense of innocent and confused teenhood that transpired from her songs, but only got really into her music with lover (didnt like reputation when it came out although years later it kinda grew on me). i was mind-blown by folklore and evermore, obsessed with her for the next couple years, and then midnights came out. i didn't NOT like it but lets just say i was disappointed, it was underwhelming and chaotic. anyway this was the period i started not giving a shit about her in general, what with the private jets (i just discovered she owns 2?????? why would you need a private jet is one question but why would you need TWO is a wholly different one) and how her persona felt so blatantly merchified more and more with each release. i felt kinda disturbed when it ended with joe, like i was scared for him, knowing her fanbase and imagining just how messy it has to be breaking up with the biggest pop star right now after you dated for six years. then, over the following year i started feeling more and more annoyed by her. her pathological need for public attention really showed when she started dating that idiotic handegg player, becoming a billionaire, times person of the year, her concert being shown in cinemas (cinemas!!! good lord please at least at the movies could you please spare me from hearing about her), and just how… shitty she was being in general. she didn't say a thing about the incoming elections (not that i care for biden but come on a word or two on the fact that trump is literally a criminal would have been the bare minimum from her) and most importantly she didn't say a word on the genocide. not even the bother to say the most generic ass take like "viOleNcE iS aLwAYs WroNg!!!!". to my knowledge, to this day she hasn't said a word about the whole situation. its like she lives in this dreamland made only of fairytales and PR stunts where everyone is her diligent servant and she always gets whatever she wants. also ttpd sucked two dicks and i can't believe there's people listening to it unironically after two songs i couldn't bear it anymore already. now i just feel kinda bad in general, recently my cousin gave me 1989 in vinyl for my birthday and i didn't know how to tell her "yeah i don't care for her that much anymore" so I just smiled and accepted it. the worst thing is it's literally the standard edition!!!! on a double LP!!!! each side is like three songs, half of it is just empty grooves. thank god i never gave her a cent personally, I only pirate cause I refuse to pay for spotify, but I still feel bad knowing I took the effort to download 300 songs of an artist and now I don't even know if ill wanna listen to any of them ever again.

!!