#teddy 06

[teddy06writes]

Can't Sleep?

Tommy Shelby x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Premise: One late night you wake to find your bed empty, your husband having yet another sleepless night.

{this is my first x reader fic in like two years, take it easy on me}

Cold.

That was the first thing your body seemed to register as you slowly came to. The second thing you noticed as you shifted, rolling to one side, was the missing place beside you in bed.

You let out a sigh as you reached over, hand prodding at Tommy's empty place on the mattress as if it would bring him back from wherever he had disappeared to.

It wasn't the first time you'd woken up to find your bed empty, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Sleep rarely found your husband easily, and when it did he was often plagued with nightmares, that even your soft words and gentle touches had trouble curing.

Finally, you pushed yourself up on one elbow, your free hand rubbing sleep from your eyes before looking around your shadow cast bedroom.

You found Tommy leaning in the window sill at the far end of the bedroom, staring out at the empty lawn, illuminated by the glow of the moon, and the burning end of the cigarette perched between his lips.

"Are you alright, Tommy-love?" Your words were still a bit thick with sleep.

Tommy started slightly, turning towards where you sat and reaching to tap the ash into the ashtray in the same movement, "Sorry, love. Didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," You yawned, sitting up properly, "Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head, taking another drag from the cigarette.

It was rare to see him like this: strangely unguarded, his usual cold exterior gone in a way that could only happen late at night. You were one of the lucky few who had ever seen the Thomas Shelby in such a state.

You drew a blanket around your shoulders, climbing out of bed and making your way to his side, "Another nightmare?"

He didn't answer, turning his head away and taking another drag. In response you pursed your lips, reaching out to put a gentle hand on his arm, "Tommy..."

"There's too much noise in me head, love," He sniffed eventually, turning his head to look at you once more, "Swear there's Germans about to get through the wall any second. Have to keep reminding myself I'm not underground."

Silently, you snaked your arms around him, and in an instant, he melted into your touch, cigarette forgotten in the ashtray, head buried in the crook of your neck.

One hand found itself at the back of his neck, the other running up and down the expanse of his back, as you murmured, "Come back to bed, Tommy."

"I don't..." His voice trailed off, muffled by your collar.

"They won't hurt you. I'll keep them out, Tommy-love, I promise."

[teddy06]

Alright top gun fan artists who's taking one for the team and giving Bradley this sign cause lord knows I'm not talented enough

[louisapennyfeather2021]

🍒🍉🍊

:)

Thank you, Layne :)💙

🍒 Do You Title Your Chapters?

It depends, tbh. In my fanfics, I've started titling chapters more because I know people enjoy fun titles. I'm just struggling with actually making the titles fun lol.

I don't title them in my original works, though.

🍉 Favorite Trope? What's a cliche that you just love?

This will sound weird and you have to let me explain, but I like the trope of an "Alpha Hero" who is just a protagonist with a lot of money, no worries, strong willed, and very successful. My family was very poor for most of my life, so it's a nice form of escapism for me to read books where the protagonist doesn't have to face the hardships that come with not having money :)

I also love a good, well written betrayal. I'm still working on the first draft of a series I want to one day publish, but I already know there's at least 2 big betrayals because I just love the trope so much.

I love the book cliche of the Nerdy MC who likes to stay home. As long as they're written well, I like them because they're very easy to relate to!

🍊 Do you have a trusted Beta Reader or are you more of the "No Beta, We Die Like Men" type?

I suck at tagging on ao3... that being said, one of my most used tags is "No Beta, we die like [insert fandom character name]"

For example, some or my favorites:

"No Beta, we die like Elizabeth and Sebastian"(both of them were koi fish that got maybe 10 seconds of screen time)

"No Beta, we die like Vegas's hedgehog"(another pet that got less than a minute of screen time)

"No Beta, we die like Korn should have"(BECAUSE PORSCHE HAD EVERY RIGHT TO TAKE HIM OUT AND KINN SHOULD'VE LET HIM)

"No Beta, we die like Riko"(because no one likes Riko)

I think I prefer it this way because I like being able to finish writing and post right away. I'm very confident in my writing skills to publish something that makes sense with very few grammar/spelling errors. Usually I got through and read the fic eventually and I'll fix any mistakes then, but I'm too impatient and I micromanage too much to put that kind of stress on a Beta Reader :)

Thanks again for the ask, Layne!!!

[zsorosebudphoto]

Lisboa, Portugal, 01-06-23

[marshallmallowbox]

c’mon just do it,,, nothing wrong with a little bear hug

[joongbin]

I really love that crush cat!reader trope!! But I was thinking what about crush puppy!reader who's a 9th member? He has the same physic as the cat one and also shows off his muscles and body but has the complete opposite personality. Puppy like as I said :D, extroverted, talks a lot, really clingy and physicaly affectionate, dramatic and more... like cat reader is in the introverted line and puppy is in the extroverted line.

WOW. - skz (2)

you're skz's 9th member who's in the extroverted line!

skz (seperate) x male reader

no warnings - fluff.

01. BANG CHAN

Chan loved your personality. The way you were so puppy-like just made him fall in love with you even more - even if you two weren't official. That wouldn't stop him from stealing glances at you during performances - even STAY notices his glances at you during performances!

It's entirely because of your abs. The people who chose your clothing 100% knew what they were doing. Making you wear a crop top? He's staring. Making you wear a singlet? Let him have a squeeze! You always have a good laugh at his face whenever he gets shy.

02. LEE KNOW

Minho preferred cats, but you just drew him in immediately. You were, a prime example of the word, hot. Your smile radiated on the stage which caught the attention of everyone around the stage. He loved your laugh, your smile, the way you were so clingy, the way you'd be worried for him everytime he fell or got an injury.

Whenever you'd flex your biceps, or show your abs to STAY, he can't resist touching them. STAY officially name him as ' (name)'s strongest soldier '.

03. SEO CHANGBIN

Basically your twin. The two of you have so many similarities from being extroverted to working out regularly. The two of you hung out at the gym most of the time, since Changbin was usually in the studio. You'd always wait for him outside, which made him feel all giddy inside.

Absolutely loves you. Every part. Personality, looks, smiles, hair, hands - even feet! He was clingy, you were clingy, the two of you are absolutely attached to each other. Walking? Have to hold hands. Laying down? One of you gotta be on top of one. Talking to STAY? Right beside you.

Also your flexing buddy. You guys take every opportunity to flex at the camera.

04. HWANG HYUNJIN

Hyunjin was the opposite of you, he preferred to stay inside, and relax all day. You didn't mind that, it was nice staying inside with him in the dorms, but you preferred to be outside with nature.

He loved laying on your lap, body, shoulder, wherever. You were like a teddy bear, big and soft. Your shoulders just held his head so nicely, your body was like a mattress, your lap was an entire pillow. He slept on you alot, which kept you from moving, which just made you fall asleep too.

05. HAN JISUNG

Loved how you were so affectionate. You were always hugging him or had an arm around him. Sometimes your head was on his lap, sometimes it was the other way around, or you two were found sleeping together. Everyone found it cute, so he didn't care.

Absolutely melts when you flex your biceps anywhere, touches your abs 24/7. He can't get enough of you, and that's perfectly understandable.

06. LEE FELIX

Loved every single part of you. If he could, he'd kiss every single part of your body - his favourite part are your lips. They're so soft, he loved touching them when you slept. No one could fault him on that - Changbin does the same with Hyunjin!

Touches your biceps alot, when you're flexing, when you're not, when you're just sleeping he will touch them. You don't mind, so he does it. Also really inlove with your face, he LOVES giving kisses to your cheek even when you don't ask for them.

07. KIM SEUNGMIN

Your twin, basically. Except he lacks the abs and biceps. You two LOVE getting all affectionate with each other no matter where it is. Holding hands, arm slung over the other's shoulder, one hugging the other from behind, or anything that's affectionate but subtle.

Always appreciates your affectionate touches too. Claims that 'you're the only SKZ member he can handle'. Of course, it's a joke, but not a full one. You're just the one that draws him in and resonates with him the most.

08. YANG JEONGIN

Opposite of you, but that doesn't mean you won't stop giving him affection. You and Felix are the only two members he'd willingly give kisses to, and you've asked for it multiple times already.

"Innie, would you mind giving me a kiss?" You say, a cheeky smile on your face. Jeongin kissed your cheek as you pull him in for a hug.

Jeongin likes subtle affection, though. Holding hands or just having your arm hang on his shoulder. It makes him feel safe, and pretty protected at times. Probably the reason why he brings you out when he goes out for nightly walks.

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

[moonyswife]

Coffee Talk

Remus Lupin x reader

Warnings: Pure fluff, a bit of kissing and probs a bit of bad grammar.

06.26 AM

Dark clouds painted the sky, winter snow littered the ground outside, the freezing air was kept outside by the strong facade of the Potter Mansion. WInter break was coming to an end soon, as would her invitation to the Potter's, and as much as she missed the castle, the end of the mini vacation to James's with all their friend group for break was something she didn't want to end soon, or ever truthfully.

Y/m laid restless on her makeshift made on the guest room that was the designated "girl room", even though she shared a dorm with these lovely girls, they where incredibly more annoying during any kind of break, Marlene's snores where getting louder by the second, Mary kept talking in her sleep, Lily was way to clingy (they had to share a bed, because Lily agreed to come [begrudgingly] at the last minute).

With no room to breathe and uncomfortable, y/n got up, grabbed a blanket and with no care of being quiet left the room, these girls deserved to be disrupted, they deserved to be bothered, but alas, they where still fast sleep.

It was way to early too be up he sky was still awfully dark, she should be sleeping under a huge comfoter with her teddy and fuzzy socks, sadly she found herself laying on the couch with only a blanket to protect her from the freezing cold of the Potter's living room.

06:57 AM

A crack on the floor woke y/n up, she hadn't even realized she fell sleep, startled she sat up and cursed herself for not bringing her wand along, adjusting her eyes to find out whose face it was in the dark, it spoke.

“Shit! Merlin, you scared me” Remus Lupin himself was the face she couldn’t see, what a shame she thought, he has a gorgeous face.

“I know I’m not the best looking sleeper, but I don’t think I can get scary” her lame joke earned a small laugh from him. Worth it.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that” his voice was raspy, she figured it was from sleeping. “What are you doing here anyways? Why are we sleeping on the couch?”

“Could ask the same thing” She replied, “The girls are giving me hell, I have no idea how I can keep up with ‘em all year, what about you?”

He gave her a smile, the one that makes his dimples noticeable and the scar on his nose widen, the one that makes girls like her swoon at the sight of it, the one that he usually keeps hidden, the one that he secretly reserves for her.

“Same thing, the boys are incredibly annoying, god knows I’ve put up with them for five whole years, I need a break, plus, James’s room is way too cluttered for four guys to be able to sleep in.”

She hummed in response, “sit down, don’t just stand there by the doorway, it’s creepy”

Remus blushed he didn’t even realized that he was standing there so tense, he suddenly felt utterly aware of himself, of his tight pijama pants that were way too short on him, of his old shirt with holes in it that he was way to attached to to throw out, of his tussled hair, of the exposed skin littered with scars, he was in pajamas in front of her. Sure she was too, but she looked great, like always.

"Mmm, you scared the sleepiness out of me... What about an early breakfast?"

Honestly she was still pretty tired, but it has been a while since they could share a moment alone, ever simce they've left hogwarts the whole group has been glued together, it has been hard to have one on one conversations, not that she needed to, but there was something brewing inside of her anytime she talked with Remus alone, they both felt it, she was sure, but neither made the move.

"Sure, I really need a coffee" She said making her way into the kitchen.

"I'm more of a tea kind of guy, but I'll join you with a cup." He tried to make it sound non chalantly, but he really despised coffee, he only drank it when she was around, ever since that time in third year he obliged to grab a cup with her because he lied and told her he loved it to impress her.

Comfortable silence fell upon them as they made coffee, shuffling around the kitchen trying to be quiet, smal huffs and giggles filled the now warm kitchen, y/n couldn't help but smile anytime she looks at him, he was the most beautiful man on earth.

"Wat'cha looking at" He said grinning like a devil.

"You"

"Me? What's so interesting about me?"

"Stop messing with me, Remus, you know." Hopefully her cheeks would not be as red as they felt.

"Know what?." he was getting cheeky, she diverted her eyes from his face, suddenly the cup of coffee was the most intersting thng in the world.

"C'mon, look at me," He said as he tilted her chin upwards to look at him. Merlin he was tall. "Don't get shy on me all of a sudden, What's wrong?"

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" it was a stupid question, she hoped that the answer was what she wanted, still, weird thing to ask.

He laughed "What? Why? Why do you care?"

"I asked first, like, really, how come the cutest guy in all of hogwarts is still single?"

because all I've ever wanted was you, he wanted to yell.

"I don't know, I don't really care for it" he lied, "Why don't you have a boyfriend, I've heard about guys interested in you" he tried to play his bitterness for friendly banter, he wasn't sure it worked.

She hummed "Well none of them are my type, y'know"

She looked at him in a way that would've made Remus's knees buckle it he wasn't standing against the kitchen island.

"Well whats your type?" Sudden braveness.

"Well, there's this guy and he's exactly my type" she said in a such a dreamy way that made Remus want to die, jealousy filled his chest.

"yeah, he's so dreamy, and cute and pretty" she liked the way that made him mad, he's the smartest person she knows, but he's stil just a boy, a very dense one at that. "he loves to wears old wooly sweaters, he loves fantasy and children books but pretends to only read philosophy to seem more nuanced" she looked into his eyes and held his hands, he squeezed them. "He loves tea, but he pretends to like coffee to impress the girl he likes" she laughed as her hands moved from his hands to his chest and finally to his neck.

He put his shaky hand on her hips, "Kiss me"he pleaded. She happily obliged.

Her heart skipped a thousand beats and she was sure she passed out for a second. It was perfection, the way his hand squeezed her waist as he deepens the kiss, how he hummed in her mouth when she tugged at his sandy curls, hours could've gone by, they wouldn't have cared.

Sadly they had to breathe so she broke the kiss, nose to nose and holding each other, they locked eyes as they fall into a fit of laughter.

"Okay.... so... we're on the same page, I think" she said as the laughter broke down.

"Yeah, I think we are" he grabbed her hand. Y/n yawned "Oh Merlin, what time is it?"

The clock signals:

07:38 AM

"Still pretty early to be up" he says, the coffee long forgotten.

"Mmm, want to cuddle and make out in the couch 'til the others wake up" she said hugging his side.

"I'd like that very much" he said pulling her out of the kitchen and into the living room couch.

10:05 AM

"OH MERLIN MY EYES!!!" A familiar voice woke them up. "JAMES! MOONY AND Y/N HAVE DEFILED YOUR COUCH!"

"Don't be stupid, Sirius, you woke them up" Lily's nagging followed.

Y/n had made no attemp to get up, to hell with them, she was comfortable, her arms around Remus's neck and his around her waist, theur legs tangled with each other's, slowly morphing into one.

"My Lilyflower's right, pads" James said. "Let them sleep, god knows it's been long enough with the yearning and the crushes and the longing glances. And they're way too much of cowards to do anything in some else's place, our Moony is a proper glenteman."

Remus flushed,but tried to keep quiet, he didn't care their mates were mocking them, all he cared about was his girl and his girl was cuddled up against him.

With a last kiss (momentarily), they dozed off again.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A year in illustration, 2023 edition (part two)

(This is part two; part one is here.)

The West Midlands Police were kind enough to upload a high-rez of their surveillance camera control room to Flickr under a CC license (they've since deleted it), and it was the perfect frame for dozens of repeating clown images with HAL9000 red noses. This worked out great. The clown face is from a 1940s ad for novelty masks.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

I spent an absurd amount of time transforming a photo I took of three pinball machines into union-busting themed tables, pulling in a bunch of images from old Soviet propaganda art. An editorial cartoon of Teddy Roosevelt with his big stick takes center stage, while a NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo's official portrait presides over the scene. I hand-made the eight-segment TILT displays.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

Working with the highest-possible rez sources makes all the difference in the world. Syvwlch's extremely high-rez paint-scraper is a gift to people writing about web-scraping, and the Matrix code waterfall mapped onto it like butter.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

This old TWA ad depicting a young man eagerly pitching an older man has incredible body-language – so much so that when I replaced their heads with raw meat, the intent and character remained intact. I often struggle for background to put behind images like this, but high-rez currency imagery, with the blown up intaglio, crushes it.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

I transposed Photoshop instructions for turning a face into a zombie into Gimp instructions to make Zombie Uncle Sam. The guy looking at his watch kills me. He's from an old magazine illustration about radio broadcasting. What a face!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/18/the-people-no/#tell-ya-what-i-want-what-i-really-really-want

The mansplaining guy from the TWA ad is back, but this time he's telling a whopper. It took so much work to give him that Pinnocchio nose. Clearly, he's lying about capitalism, hence the Atlas Shrugged cover. Bosch's "Garden of Earthly Delights" makes for an excellent, public domain hellscape fit for a nonconensual pitch about the miracle of capitalism.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/27/six-sells/#youre-holding-it-wrong

There's no better image for stories about techbros scamming rubes than Bosch's 'The Conjurer.' Throw in Jeff Bezos's head and an Amazon logo and you're off to the races. I boobytrapped this image by adding as many fingers as I could fit onto each of these figures in the hopes that someone could falsely accuse me of AI-generating this. No one did.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

Once again, it's Bosch to the rescue. Slap a different smiley-face emoji on each of the tormented figures in 'Garden of Earthly Delights' and you've got a perfect metaphor for the 'brand safety' problem of hard news dying online because brands don't want to be associated with unpleasant things, and the news is very unpleasant indeed.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/11/ad-jacency/#brand-safety

I really struggle to come up with images for my linkdump posts. I'm running out of ways to illustrate assortments and varieties. I got to noodling with a Kellogg's mini-cereal variety pack and I realized it was the perfect place for a vicious gorilla image I'd just found online in a WWI propaganda poster headed 'Destroy This Mad Brute.' I put so many fake AI tells in this one – extra pupils, extra fingers, a super-AI-esque Kellogg's logo.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/05/variegated/#nein

Bloodletting is the perfect metaphor for using rate-hikes to fight inflation. A vintage image of the Treasury, spattered with blood, makes a great backdrop. For the foreground, a medieval woodcut of bloodletting quacks – give one the head of Larry Summers, the other, Jerome Powell. For the patient, use Uncle Sam's head.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/20/bloodletting/#inflated-ego

I killed a long videoconference call slicing up an old pulp cover showing a killer robot zapping a couple of shrunken people in bell-jars. It was the ideal image to illustrate Big Tech's enshittification, especially when it was decorated with some classic tech slogans.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/22/who-wins-the-argument/#corporations-are-people-my-friend

There's something meditative about manually cutting out Tenniel engravings from Alice – the Jabberwock was insane. But it was worth it for this Tron-inflected illustration using a distorted Cartesian grid to display the enormous difference between e/acc and AI doomers, and everyone else in the world.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

Multilayer source images for your remixing pleasure:

Scientist in chemlabhttps://craphound.com/images/scientist-in-chem-lab.psd

Humpty Dumpty and the millionaires https://craphound.com/images/humpty-dumpty-and-the-millionaires.psd

Demon summoning https://craphound.com/images/demon-summoning.psd

Killer Robot and People in Bell Jars https://craphound.com/images/killer-robot-and-bell-jars.psd

TWA mansplainer https://craphound.com/images/twa-mansplainer.psd

Impatient boss https://craphound.com/images/impatient-boss.psd

Destroy This Mad Brute https://craphound.com/images/destroy-this-mad-brute.psd

(Images: Heinz Bunse, West Midlands Police, Christopher Sessums, CC BY-SA 2.0; Mike Mozart, Jesse Wagstaff, Stephen Drake, Steve Jurvetson, syvwlch, Doc Searls, https://www.flickr.com/photos/mosaic36/14231376315, Chatham House, CC BY 2.0; Cryteria, CC BY 3.0; Mr. Kjetil Ree, Trevor Parscal, Rama, “Soldiers of Russia” Cultural Center, Russian Airborne Troops Press Service, CC BY-SA 3.0; Raimond Spekking, CC BY 4.0; Drahtlos, CC BY-SA 4.0; Eugen Rochko, Affero; modified)

[aphrogeneias]

it's been seven hours and fifteen days —

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you and eddie find each other again at the deuce. your reunion is surprisingly easy, but your past was from it.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: angst, fluff, some soulmate lore, childhood memories, small mentions of sickness and death (eddie's mom). reader is referred to by a nickname (joan).

series masterlist

It started with a book.

At first, you weren’t sure if that’s what it meant, though you were taught to expect it ever since you were able to understand the concept of soulmates, right about the time you were taught how to read and write.

Everyone had one, or at least that's what you were taught as well. As soon as you were able to remember, you'd hear stories about people finding their other half through their lost belongings, objects traveling around the world to the hands of the ones who held their owner's heart. 

Quite a simple concept, really. Everything that is lost by someone is never really lost, only found by their soulmate, and that was how they are supposed to find their way to each other. A trail of crumbs to your final destination, your fated pair.

You didn't understand how it worked until you started school. Then, it would become a reality, and not just the stories your mother would tell as she put you to bed at night and filled your little heart with wonder. Classmates would come in with their soulmates' things in their bag, eager to show them off — toys of all kinds, notebooks written in entirely different alphabets, earrings missing one pair, blankets, teddy bears.

In the year you started middle school, there were around four billion people in the world. You'd figured you would be one of the kids who's soulmate lived on the other side of the world, rather than the ones who found their other half on the next town over, or just a state away. It would be just your luck, of course.

It turned out you didn't have to look that far. He lived in the same neighborhood.

Your mom had a friend called Jane. You remember Jane because you thought she was beautiful, with her kind brown eyes and long flowing skirts. Jane seemed to you like a fairy from your storybooks, shrouded in ethereal mystery. She was always in your mother's kitchen, both of them sitting on your dinner table, and talking for what felt like hours, and she always brought along her son. A boy your age called Edward, or just Eddie, how he always liked to be called.

You barely remember a time where Eddie wasn't in your life. His mother would bring him along and you'd spend your afternoons together, playing and building worlds of your own on the carpet of your childhood bedroom. You were knights and princesses, pirates and mermaids, aliens and astronauts, but most of all you were free to be whoever you wanted to be in those golden-tinted days of your childhoods.

One day, when you were eleven, a book appeared on the floor of your bedroom. You recalled it just like that, because it wasn't there in one moment, and all you had to do was turn your head the other way, and when you looked back to that same spot, there it was.

A 1965 edition of The Fellowship of the Rings, by Ballantine Books. It had a blue cover with red details, and you knew right away it wasn't yours. You didn't own any of the Lord of the Rings trilogy books because you had never read them, and Eddie, already your best friend by then, never let you forget it.

Upon further inspection, you found two notes written on the first page. One was a note written in red ink, addressed to Jane by someone named Al — Eddie's das, that much you knew, and you also knew he wasn't around much — and below that, a more recent note written in blue ink that said:

"To my precious son,

Happy Birthday!

May you always find your way home.

From your mother.

06/11/1976"

At first, you'd thought Eddie had forgotten it on your last playdate, though you didn't remember him carrying a book with him that day. Your answer came a few days later when Jane was visiting, and you overheard her saying to your mother that Eddie was distraught upon finding that he'd lost his favorite book. He had brought it to school with him, and when he went home, it wasn't in his backpack.

It didn't take too long for you to put two and two together.

Scared of everyone's reactions — your mom's, Jane's, Eddie's — you hid it. The book and the truth, hidden in a box under your bed. You didn't know how to react, much less how to disclose this in a way that wouldn't change everything around you. You were a child, after all. Years later, you wondered how different your lives would have been if, instead of eavesdropping on their conversation, you had just told them what had happened. 

Jane Munson died not long after that, and you couldn't stop everything from changing, then. You didn't understand much, just that it was sudden, and fatal, and in the span of less than a year, she was gone. Eddie was distraught, and for weeks after the funeral, he was not the boy you knew and loved. He was a shell of himself, after losing his mother and moving to the trailer park with his uncle, since his father was in jail — something you'd just found out too. It was too much to assimilate, and even at twelve years old, you understood.

He started losing more things in that meantime.

You stared at a blank point that was vaguely at the height of the bottom of your bed as if it hid a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any minute.

Eddie was sitting on the chair of your vanity, going on and on about the new friends he had made at Hawkins Middle School, friends that didn't include you, since you were still at that phase where hanging out with boys, boys that weren't Eddie, gave you nausea. He was starting to feel a little more like himself again, his buzzed hair growing into small curls, his dimples giving a sign of life again as he started to smile more.

Still, though you were relieved, you were nervous. More of Eddie's things were finding their way to you. An action figure, a set of dice, a plastic mug. You did not know how to approach the subject, and it got more and more difficult as time went on. You felt like you were losing your timing, like the opportunity was slipping through your fingers each time you chose to stay quiet.

"You ever thought about what you'll do when you find your soulmate's things?"

Eddie groaned at your sudden interruption. "Really? That's what you're thinking about?"

"It's just that… See, this girl in my class…" Sighing, you give up making sense. "Whatever. Just answer the question."

"I don't know. That shit isn't real." 

You were still getting used to Eddie's slight change in demeanor. He was still the sweet boy you've known, but a little rougher around the edges. Angry at the world for taking away his mother, full of resentment towards his father, confused and scared. Though that anger was never directed at you, you felt some ripples of it, like right now.

“Of course it’s real, we see it all the time.”

Unable to meet his eyes, you hear a scoff coming from his direction. “I don’t know. My parents weren’t soulmates, your parents weren’t either. What are the chances?”

“Don’t say that. There’s always a chance…” Your voice got smaller and smaller, trying to take back what you’d said. It wasn’t the right time, and it wasn’t right for you to force this conversation with the grieving boy in front of you. He didn’t need one more thing to worry about, you told yourself.

“I don’t care. I think I’d just leave them alone.”

Nodding, you moved on to a different subject. It wasn’t the right time.

It would never be.

You thought you had forgotten what he looked like.

Which was impossible, because you saw him everywhere. You saw him in the long haired, rowdy boys you saw up and down Sunset Strip. You saw him in crowds of headbangers with their fists in the air. You saw him in guitar shops, in fantasy novels, in cans of spray paint and black pencils. In tight hugs and loud laughs. In the little kids playing at the park, holding hands and exchanging vows of eternal friendship. In yourself, whenever you look in the mirror.

You wondered if he saw you too. If he looked around at every corner he turned and there you were. A missing limb he could still feel even though it had been gone a long time. Twin ghosts haunting each other.

You couldn't forget even if you wanted to, and you never did, because he was a part of you — and now he was here, in the flesh, as if no time had passed between those five years you were gone. That’s what it felt like to you, at least, although both of you had changed a lot since then. From a distance, you could see Eddie stood taller, had a more confident stance to him. His shoulders were broader, his arms filled his jacket’s sleeves a little bit more. You fought the urge to let out a dreamy sigh, almost forgetting you were on the verge of tears not two minutes before this.

The urgent phone call you were having with Robin had to be cut short when you heard a series of impatient knocks on the door of the staff room. It was Linda, asking you what you were doing there. You mumbled something about needing to make a quick call, but that went through one ear and fell out the other, as Linda was locking your arm with hers and leading you to the front of the small stage where Corroded Coffin dealt with their equipment.

Trying to disguise your trembling, a sinking feeling that took over your whole body, you held tightly onto Linda’s arm, and planted yourself firmly to the ground where you stopped. 

“Boys, boys! I want you to meet someone. This is Joan, everyone’s favorite waitress.”

He was the first one who reacted, while his friends, your old friends, only gawked. Gareth dropped his drumsticks, Jeff had opened his mouth three times before deciding not to say anything — which made you realize he didn’t have his braces anymore — and Grant, ever the expressive one, had both eyebrows raised, giving away all his surprise.

“Joan?”

“Because I’m a runaway, like Joan… Jett.” That wasn’t the first, the second or the hundredth time you had to explain that dumb nickname. Joan was not your real name, it wasn’t even close to it, but Linda was insistent on calling you that. She thought it was funny, a runaway girl from the midwest trying to make her way through Los Angeles, and she’d been calling you that since your first week working there. “Not her most creative moment.”

“It’s so fucking good to see you!” Jeff was the first to break the silence, and then the other boys followed suit, engulfing you in tight hugs, releasing all, or at least most of, the tension inside of you. Giggling softly, you hugged them back.

“It’s good to see you too, guys. It’s been a long time.”

The only people who didn’t join were Linda, who stood confused to the side, and Eddie, who stayed in place, looking paler than he already was, like he would pass out at any moment. You felt the same, but Eddie was the one who always wore his feelings on his sleeve, not you.

“What exactly is this?” Your boss asked, pointing her red stiletto nails at the scene unfolding in front of her. “Where do you know her from?”

“From our hometown.” You explained, tucking your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, trying to make yourself smaller. “We went to the same school.”

“More like the only school in town.” Gareth laughed. “It’s a small town but an even smaller world, I guess.”

“Just wait until you get settled here. Everyone knows everyone, it’s worse than Hawkins.” You scoffed, trying to lighten up the mood. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost a month.” Eddie was the one who answered, finally finding his voice. “We’ve been bouncing from bar to bar until Linda was kind enough to take us in now.”

“You’re welcome, dear. It will be a pleasure to have you here. Now…”

As Linda started to explain some of the basic rules of operations of The Deuce — opening and closing times, where to find everything, introducing them to the other staff members — you and Eddie stayed behind, a thin veil of tension still standing between you, but then, Eddie reached out, an outstretched arm forward, beckoning you with a soft voice, “C’mere.”

And you went, with no hesitation. For a moment, you even felt silly for all that fuss you made moments before, that anxiety that threatened you to burn a hole on the ground and swallow you whole. It was just Eddie, the boy who used to hold your hand whenever you felt this exact same way, all those years ago. Ironic how he was the cause and the cure to all of your problems.

You let him wrap his arms around you, closing the gap that the red thread connecting you was pulling and pulling until you were pressed together again, bodies joined like two pieces of a puzzle. You stayed like that for a full minute, your arms around his narrow waist, his squeezing you to his chest until it hurt, but you didn’t dare let go, and for the first time in a long time, you felt right. You were home again.

“I missed you so much.” You found courage to say something in your hiding place, your head pressed to his chest. His smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne was oddly calming, making you breath in deeply. 

“I missed you too.” Eddie took a small step back, raising one hand to the back of your head, holding you in place. You were pretty sure you had the dumbest lovestruck look in your eyes while you looked at him, but you couldn’t really care at that moment. You could be embarrassed later. “How have you been?”

“I, uh…” 

“Hey, Van Halen!” Linda called out from the other side of the bar, snapping her fingers at you, “you can catch up later. Get your pretty boy ass over here.”

Untangling from each other, you’re both clearly flustered, Eddie’s face a blooming shade of pink. You’re quick to remedy it. “We can talk later, after your show. After I clock out. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.” 

He walked away, then, still looking back at you. Both smiling, both feeling the relief of that red string, now much less strained, but no less beaten. Far from healing, but one step closer. At least, that’s how you felt, but you knew that was only the beginning of a long and winding road to the recovery of your friendship. You didn’t dare to think of something more, crushing the seeds of hope that threatened to take root in your heart.

They were just as stubborn as you, though, and settled anyway.

[teddy06writes]

Lost Words

Alfie Solomons x gn!autistic!reader

Warnings: I guess the way I describe readers feelings/emotions? (all based on personal experience)

Prompt: I had a bad day at work, and this is a coping mechanism

Premise: After a long day at work stress you out to the point of shutting down, Alfie helps you calm down.

{I swear I'm gonna write hurt comfort for Alfie with the roles reversed I just need more motivation}

{also I'm thinking of doing an Alfie fic based on Much Ado About Nothing if anyones interested in that}

From where you were hiding inside your blanket cocoon, you heard the door to the house creak open, and Alfie calling to you that he was home. Cyril, who had been leaning against you, let out a whine, and shuffled to all but slide off the bed, before trotting off to greet his other owner.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to burrough further into the blankets. What only seemed to be a moment later, you heard Alfie entering the room, still cooing at Cyril.

"You alright my dove?" His voice was surprisingly gentle, coming from somewhere near the foot of the bed.

You couldn't find it in yourself to respond, and you heard him move closer, before he was gently pulling the comforter away from your head, humming worriedly, "Dove?"

You peeled your eyes open to find him peering down at you, concerned etched onto his face. Alfie's hand reached out to brush hair from your face, almost automatically before he caught himself, muttering, "RIght- sorry, love, sorry..."

He ran a hand over his beard, "You're havin' a quiet day then? Lost all your words cause of work, hm?"

Slowly you nodded, and he hummed again, muttering something to himself before disappearing from your field of vision. When he reappeared a moment or two later he'd stripped down to his shorts and undershirt, and began to gingerly climb into bed beside you, careful not to touch you.

"You just take your time then, love, and when you get all your words back you can tell your Alfie what's going on, yeah, dove?"

Alfie waited patiently, looking at you, not quite expectantly, but with some sort of reverence you couldn't place. Slowly, one of your hands snuck out from where it had been tucked firmly under your chin, to grab his hand where it rested on the mattress.

When you looked back up at him in aprehension, he seemed to understand, nodding, "'s alright, love."

You squeezed his hand tightly, and he squeezed back, albeit a bit more gently. It was times like this that you felt you could never truly express how grateful you were to have Alfie, who seemed to be the only person who ever truly understood you complex feelings, and never misunderstood what you meant just because you were 'wired different'.

Slowly you worked your way closer to Alfie, until he was able to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you just tightly enough to provide relief from the itch that had worked its way under your skin. You buried your face in his chest, absently running your fingers over the soft fabric of his undershirt.

"That's it love," He murmured, his chest rumbling, "You just take your time, my dove. Aflie's got ya."

Eventually, when you would find your voice returning, you would tell Alfie about your day, rambling on about the good and the bad about how it all became to much, and he would listen. But for now, you were content with laying in comfortable silence, the two of you lost in your own little world.

[teddy06]

Random Polish!Ice brainrot

Ice who grows up making Pierogi following a recipe card hand written by his great grandmother that makes enough to feed a small army

Ice who after joining the Navy doesn't have the time/money/even enough people to eat all of those pierogi so he learns to pare down the recipe to be just a few servings worth, and enlisting Slider in the long tedious cooking process.

Ice who, after he and Mav take in Bradley, makes the same pared down recipe, and teaches little Bradley how to fill and seal each Pierogi perfectly, (meanwhile mav still struggles to get it right and produces lumpy results)

Ice who makes pierogi again for roosters first dinner back at home after everything, and when roo gets there early (bc he is his fathers son) he's immediately pulled back into the assembly line they'd established so long ago

Ice who realizes that now that the daggers are also practically his kids that he can make the whole recipe again, without cutting it down. Ice who puts all the daggers through a mini pierogi making bootcamp so that they all can help out.

(It turns out that Rooster, Bob, Harvard, Coyote, Halo and Omaha master filling and sealing really easily, so their left doing that while Phoenix, Fritz, and Yale roll out dough and cut out disks of it. Fanboys pierogi are still a little misshapen but he's determined to get it right. Payback takes trays of finished pierogi back to where Ice stands in front of the stove top, ready to blanch them.)

(Hangman and Mav sit out, Hangman because "really pops it's too many cooks in the kitchen, I won't be much help" and Mav because "I was on active duty in the pierogi wars for how many years now? I am officially retired now that the reinforcements are here) (they sneak into the kitchen after dinner and bake a pretty mean dessert, so they're still contributing)

[louisapennyfeather2021]

Anyone else have that one mutual where as soon as you see them in your notes, you know the chaos is about to start???

I'm looking at you @teddy06

I can always count on you to enable my chaos😂😂

[awkwardsonicphotos]

If you can design your own Sonic-themed birthday cake, how would you go about it? What would it look like?

So it's become a running joke with my friends and family that I make death scene themed cakes of their favorite franchises. For my one friend who loves kingdom hearts I made a Goofy death scene cake.

And I made a Persona 5 death scene cake for my other friend.

I sculpted these the day of the birthdays that's why they suck so bad. I promise I'm good at sculpting lol. But the crappiness adds to the hilarity. I even made a Teddie pinata for this birthday.

So if I ever get the chance I want to make a Sonic death scene cake either based off 06 or Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. Too bad the Sonic Social media team beat me too it this year. I'm taking that dart board as a note though.

[cellythefloshie]

;; Captain's Orders Chapter Eighteen of the Road Wife Series

Table of Contents 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 11  | 12  |  13  | 14 | 15 16 | 17 | 18

Summary: Trying to cope with the pressures of being the second wife, your judgment continues to waver. Kinks & TW: sex work, unprotected sex, rule breaking, creampie, adultery Word Count: 2.3k

Knowing about Ella, and why she left, it should have given you some peace of mind. She had betrayed the team and the relationships that had been founded by the players. Worst of all, she betrayed the wives who trusted her with such responsibility. It was a thought that weighed heavily on your mind during and between your appointments. You wanted to be better than the standard she had set. You wanted to abide by your contract, do your job, while being respected by the wives, because you would honor the agreements made. But that was something easier said than done, especially with the roster of the Tampa Bay Lightning. 

Since your encounter with Ella, and your appointment with Killorn that allowed you to unpack just what exactly had happened to the first wife, your appointments left you on edge. You read each calendar appointment on your phone not once, but twice, and you never overstayed your welcome. You always returned to your room, or your seat on the plane, away from the players you were contracted to serve while on the road. It was isolating in a way, and you often had to remind yourself why you were doing it. You would not destroy a marriage. 

Even after a 0-1 defeat to Detroit that ended in a shoot-out, that was the thought in the back of your mind. Worst of all, the boys would have to play again tomorrow, which meant turning in early for everyone but you. 

You wouldn’t get to sleep just yet, not with an appointment with the Captain in your calendar. 

Mouth wide open with a yawn, you sorted through your suitcase in search of a black teddy his wife had ordered for you to wear on the trip. Or at least, you assumed it had been from his wife. It had just shown up in the mail one day with a card signed S.S. And then the request had been listed in the appointment, approved. 

The snug, figure hugging lace teddy replaced the business-casual attire you had worn to the game, your face contorting as your body shuddered at the realization that the teddy itself was crotchless. The air that filled your hotel room sent you shuttering as you jumped into a pair of tight shorts and shrugged on your oversized team branded sweatshirt. It would cover you up enough to get you down the hall to the captain’s room, even if the crotch of the shorts chafed against your clit with every casual stride you took. 

When you came to his door, you didn’t even need to knock. Stamkos had been waiting on the other side, waiting patiently for your expected arrival. He greeted you with a smile, his hand taking hold of your forearm carefully to guide you inside. It was the beginning of the routine the two of you shared during your appointments. It would start with the gentle touches and the sweet exchange of words as he coaxed you to the bed. But then, the captain never wasted any time with you. 

The two of you always followed the directives set by his wife and stuck strictly to the time constraints given. Which is why it didn’t surprise you when Stamkos guided you to the comfort of the hotel room bed. The barely disturbed blankets sunk around your knees as you crawled up the length of the bed and into the captain’s lap. You could feel the heat of his body radiating against the inside of your thighs, and the stiffness of his cock pressing up against you before you could really even touch him–and you smirked. He was always so eager, so ready, as his hands brushed over your body. It wasn’t a featherlight touch. He wanted you to feel his palms and his fingers and their warm touch as they wrinkled your clothes and dripped down into your shorts and your panties. 

The weight of his touch sent your skin blazing hot as he dipped deeper and deeper until his fingers pressed into your clit and began to trace over your sensitivity in slow, teasing circles. And Stamkos watched you there, your breathing becoming needy and shallow with his every rotation. He watched as your face softened and your eyes fluttered, completely and utterly enthralled by taking his time with you. 

It left your head light and spinning, your hips angling into his touch just to try to feel more of him. Your chest heaved with desperation, and you knew he must feel how wet you were as it puddled in your panties. His knuckles grazed against them with each deliberate motion - but you only drew a real response from him when you were left whimpering with need. 

“I want to try something different with you today, would you like that?” he breathed his hot words against your throat, and punctuated his question with a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. 

At that moment, you were ready to beg him. Your mind was foggy with need, your core already near pulsing with pleasure. You would say yes to anything. 

“What are the Captain’s Orders?”

With his free hand, Stamkos reached up and pinched your chin between his thumb and finger. He opened up your neck and placed gentle kisses against the sensitive skin slowly. And it was there, his hot breath washing over his skin, that he whispered, “A little roleplay?”

Your heart skipped as your curiosity peaked. “Oh?”

“Don’t worry, you’ve been doing so well already,” his praise sent a wave of heat through your body, your core clenching as he continued, “you’ve been such a good wife for me, but I think it’s time for another wifely duty. I’m going to fuck a baby right into you.”

Your throat went weak, and your lips parted in a desperate gasp as you tried to find any words to say, but you could only manage one. “Steven.” 

It felt foreign to have his name slip from between your lips. It had always been captain or Stamkos. You had never spoken his first name. It kept things distant, professional, but suddenly it all was so personal. 

You knew the rules, the terms and conditions set by his wife. The ones he wanted to ignore, the rules he wanted to break. It left your stomach knotted, your throat weak, so close to falling into illness because you knew why he was asking. You bent the rules for Tony and for Ross. And hadn't been shy about it. He knew. The whole team knew. And now he wanted you to break them for him. 

Captain's orders. 

“I signed a contract,” your words were breathy as you turned to face him, “and your wife-”

“Would never know. I won’t tell her, would you?”

You should have gotten up and left the room the moment those words left his mouth. The phone with all of your appointments should be in your hands as you texted an update to his wife about what he had asked you to do. Yet, you lay frozen in the bed, your eyes fixated on Stamkos as he waited for you to answer his request. 

His hands stroked over the soft lace of the teddy slowly, your head spinning at the touch as you tried to find the logic of it all. You wanted to say no, you should decline him, but…

Every precaution you could take to avoid pregnancy was taken. You had attended all the medical appointments made by the wives to assure of that too. And if anyone was going to get you pregnant, it would have been Ross because the two of you had never been careful. And those factors shouldn't have mattered. But they nagged at the back of your mind so loudly you could not ignore. 

The room felt suffocating around you, the weight of the decision heavy on your chest as you fisted at the thin fabric of Stamkos’ shirt. You felt his warmth, his body, and you let it ground you, coaxing your first calm breath in what felt like minutes as you faced what felt like an inevitable outcome: no matter what you did, you could be fired. 

The playoffs were only 15 days away. 

The boys needed you. Their wife. 

There was only one thing you could do. 

With your fingers still coiled around his shirt. You pulled it up over his head slowly. His arms raised, letting the fabric slide down his to slip from his fingertips. And in the seconds it concealed his face from you, his expression softened as if he were on the verge of melting under your touch. His hair left tousled, falling into his heavy lidded stare as you tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then came the warmth of his lips, stealing your breath as you mumbled your words against the pressure of his kiss. “Put a baby in me, Steven.”

Your name was a low growl, barely audible on his lips, as he leaned and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss unlike any other he had given you before. It was more than just a kiss, something quick and heated to get his cock hard and your panties wet. Stamkos had one handle cradling your jaw as he kissed you deeply, passionately, his tongue sweeping inside your mouth to taste you as if it were the very first time. It makes your heart race and your brain foggy as his hands explored your curves and worked his hockey toned body from the constraints of his own clothes while he left you in the pretty lingerie. 

It was only as you felt the tip of his cock crest against your core that just what was happening hit you in a tornado of a thought. Stamkos wasn’t just fucking you bare, he was making love to you. His every touch was a deliberate caress, his every kiss left you breathless and shuttering, and it all made it too difficult not to react. 

Your body came to wind around him so effortlessly. Your thighs hitch around his hips, your ankles hooking at the back of his thighs and pressing down so carefully. The pressure left him groaning against your flesh, the thrust that followed deeper, harder than the last. Each impact of his hips on your own left you shifting across the bed, your hands having to reach up to brace yourself against the headboard to keep yourself from smacking your head into it. 

Panting, you focused on the cold surface of the headboard against your sweaty palms. The muscles in your arms ached, and your heart thundered deep in your chest - faster and faster as your cunt throbbed around his cock. 

And then you felt it. The twitch of his cock and the flood of his cum inside you. It was a warm wave that filled you. One that you felt in the depths of your belly even as he unsheathed his cock from the embrace of your cunt. With your face still red hot with the heat of your orgasm, and the weight of Stamkos’ body from you, you rolled over and gathered your clothes. With each of your movements rushed and clumsy, you practically stumbled from the bed as you jumped into your shorts – but not even their tight fabric could distract you from the feeling of his cum beginning to spill from your core. 

It left your heart pounding loud in your ears, and you could feel it pulsing throughout your body as you moved for the door. It was there Stamkos stopped you, his hand on your arm to stop you from leaving. You didn't know if he had said anything before that moment. If he had, you didn't hear it. But you looked up at him with a smile and heard his gentle words. 

“Take this before morning,” Stamkos said, his words far from a suggestion as his hand found yours. In your palm, he dropped a small pill pocket. Your fist wrapped around it tightly. 

You could only nod, your voice too weak to find even a single word before you slipped out the door. Gripping the pill even tighter, so tight your nails dug into the flesh of your palms. You could not drop it, you couldn't risk anyone else seeing it. No one could know what had just happened. 

Not even Cirelli, who stood in the doorway of his hotel room, waiting so patiently for you to be done with the Captain as he had so many times before. But you couldn't risk seeing him, not tonight. 

You shook your head slowly and paired your subtle, silent rejection with a yawn. Maybe then he would believe that you were just too tired. Maybe then he wouldn't become suspicious. 

And he doesn't question it as you walk right past him and disappear into your own hotel room. Standing there with your back pressed to the door, you opened your palm and stared down on the tiny morning-after pill in your hand. It and the feeling of his hot cum pooling in your shorts left your stomach knotted. And with that feeling, you didn't have to think twice. You opened the pill pocket with gentle pressure, releasing it into your hand before you brought it to your mouth and swallowed it back without water, without anything but guilt. 

Even hours later, as you lay in bed with sleep refusing to take you, you swore you could still feel it there. A heavy lump in your throat, an aching reminder of the rules that you had broken. And there, as you wrapped your arms around your pillow and squeezed it tight, you decided you could never let something like that happen again. 

TAGLIST:@mp0625 , @equallyshaw , @charles11700 , @swissboyhisch , @wingedwheelprxncess , @luvmmarner, @fandomrejects , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @xcicix , @starshine-hockey-girl , @cixrosie

[drinkcrywrite]

DERRY GIRLS APPRECIATION WEEK

↳Day 5/7: Favourite Scenes/Moments

ID under cut

[image description: 10 large gifs made up of five smaller gifs from various episodes of Derry Girls. Gif 1: From 201, 5 gifs from the failed rappelling event. In the top left corner is "#10" in a black outline.   1: Clare clutches the side of the cliff, and hysterically screams at the crowd below. Caption reads, "Don't let the Jaffa bastard hurt me!"   2: Erin and Michelle stare up at Clare off-screen and look shocked, Michelle laughing. Caption reads, "Jesus, Clare! Fuck-a-doodle-doo."   3: Clare looks up at Philip at the top of the cliff. Caption reads, "Last night you said you hated Catholics. Admit it!"   4: Philip at the top of the cliff yells down to Clare. Caption reads, "I said I hated athletes. I'm not much of a sports fan."   5: Erin and Michelle stare up at Clare. Michelle cups her hand around her mouth and yells. Caption reads, "Catholics does sound a bit like athletes, to be fair to him, like." Gif 2: From 201, from the failed differences/similarities brainstorm. In the top right corner is "#09" in a black outline.   1: Philip raises his hand and calls out a suggestion as Clare smiles next to him. Caption reads, "Protestants are British and Catholics are Irish."   2: Jon calls out a suggestion as Orla sits next to him clutching her teddy bear. Caption reads, "Catholics really buzz off statues and we don't so much."   3: Sister Michael nods and smiles. Caption reads, "I do enjoy a good statue, it has to be said."   4: A shot from the back of the room as all the kids raise their hands and call out suggestions. Caption reads, "Catholics watch RTE! Protestants love cleaning! Protestants are taller!"   5: Jenny adds another item to the board titles differences, which is covered in writing. Gif 3: From 305, the discussion of Rob's sexuality. In the top right corner is "#08" in a black outline.   1: Joe excitedly gestures to the other parents off-screen. Caption reads, "He's a gay!"   2: Rob stands next to Joe and nods. Caption reads, "Oh, right. Yes, I'm a raging homosexual."   3: Sean & Geraldine look at Rob off-screen, Sean speaking. Caption reads, "Seriously? Our daughter's a gay."   4: Rob smiles at them. Caption reads, "How is she finding it?"   5: Sean nods while Geraldine answers. Caption reads, "Aye, she's not fully qualified, so to speak." Gif 4: From 204, when Michelle brings out the drug scones. In the top right corner is "#07" in a black outline.   1: Orla smiles and nods. Caption reads, "Aye, they do look like good craic, in fairness."   2: Clare gasps and points hysterically at the scones. Caption reads, "They're drug scones! She put the drugs in the scones!"   3: Michelle rolls her eyes and speaks condescendinly. Caption reads, "Anyways, drugs aren't illegal when you put them in food."   4: An older woman enters the room and takes the container of scones out of James' hands.   5: Michelle puts her hands to head and looks panicked. "Caption reads, "What the fuck just happened?" Gif 5: From 105, when Deidre asks Mary to take Michelle and James with her. In the top left corner is "#06" in a black outline.   1: Deidre looks angrily at Mary off-screen. Caption reads, "I hope to God it's not the gay thing you're offended by."   2: Deidre continues speaking. Caption reads, "Because I'd be disappointed in you, Mary, I'll not lie."   3: Mary looks contrite as she responds to Deidre. "Of course not. I mean if anything, the gay thing sort of cancels out the English thing."   4: James looks fed up. Caption reads, "Again, no gay thing."   5: Michelle grins as she looks at James beside her. Caption reads, "You wouldn't move over there, James? I can't see past your massive closet." Gif 6: From 306, when Clare receives her first kiss. In the top right corner is "#05" in a black outline.   1: Clare looks around the party at all the people dressed as clowns and screams. Caption reads, "Nooooo!"   2: Clare looks annoyed at James off-screen. Caption reads, "Not hundreds of lesbians, James, hundreds of clowns."   3: Laurie, with her clown mask on top of her head, speaks to Clare off-screen. Caption reads, "Well, that's a pity cause I was sorta plannin' on kissing you tonight."   4: Laurie kisses Clare with a hand on each cheek and slowly pulls back, Clare keeping her eyes shut.   5: Clare giddily smiles at the others outside the party and nods that Laurie did in fact kiss her. Gif 7: From 206, when James comes back aftre almost leaving with his mother. In the top left corner is "#04" in a black outline.   1: James sits in the car looking pensively out the window.   2: Clare, Michelle, and Erin stand in the crowd looking upset as everyone cheers behind them.   3: James yells down to the girls from the bridge overlooking the crowd. Caption reads, "I. Am. A Derry Girl!"   4: James and the girls run to each other, Orla jumping into his arms and Michelle wrapping her arms around him.   5: The kids all walk away from the crowd smiling, their arms around each other's shoulders, James with the fake USA flag around his shoulders. Gif 8: From 307, when Erin and Granda Joe talk about the Good Friday Agreement. In the top right corner is "#03" in a black outline.   1: Granda hold Anna on his knee and smiles as he speaks to Erin. Caption reads, "It's what you think that's important."   2: Erin looks sadly at Granda off-screen. Caption reads, "People died. Innocent people died, Granda.   3: Erin continues talking. Caption reads, "Nothing can ever make that okay."   4: Erin looks worried. Caption reads, "What if we vote yes, and it doesn't even work?"   5: Granda smiles at Erin. Caption reads, "And what if it does? What if no one else has to die?" Gif 9: From 106, when everyone joins Orla onstage at the talent show. In the top left corner is "#02" in a black outline."   1: Clare stands and looks slightly nervous as she shouts. Caption reads, "Actually, she's our dick."   2 Michelle looks exasperated as she stands to join them going onstage. Caption reads, "Oh, for fuck's sake."   3: All the kids join Orla onstage and start dancing along with her.   4: Sister Michael watches the kids dancing onstage and her mouth twitches, as if she wants to maybe smile, in a rare show of emotions.   5: The kids jump onstage and put their arms around each other in slow-motion. Gif 10: From 101, when the kids are in detention. In the top right corner is "#01" in a black outline.   1: James clutches the wall in desperation. Caption reads, "Michelle, I can't hold it any longer."   2: Michlle mocks Clare as Clare sadly chews a sandwich. Captione reads, "But will you ever get yer self-respect back, Clare?"   3: Erin opens the window and starts to climb through it.   4 Orla holds the nun's head up and grins. Caption reads, "It's funny how she sleeps with her eyes wide open, isn't it?"   5: Michelle and Erin turn accusingly to James as he continues to pee in the trashcan.]