#there’s no way this hasn’t been done before but thought I’d share

[tiphyrow]

I’ve been hearing about the Magnus archives for years now and finally decided to try it out. I’m really enjoying it but I have like crazy serious vermiphobia and didn’t know those little beasts were so crucial to the plot. Hearing, reading or saying the word makes me itchy and I’ve literally had nightmares about the type of stuff that happens in the podcast since I was like a baby. Obviously this has been a problem but i really want to keep listening so I’ve started imagining Jane prentiss like this.

It’s working

[peachdues]

GASOLINE ON FIRE

COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader

A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.

CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst

READ COMPASS HERE

You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.

“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.

“What?”

You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that — I mean, where did that come from?”

You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”

That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.

But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.

Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.

You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”

“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.

Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”

“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.

“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”

“I want you to fix it.”

His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.

You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.

Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.

Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.

For daring to think you might want him at all.

But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.

Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).

He was a convenience; nothing more.

Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.

And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.

But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.

Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.

But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.

Don’t get attached.

And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.

What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?

Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?

You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.

It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.

He never has.

“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”

He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.

Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.

To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.

Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.

“Hey.”

You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.

“Come here.”

You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.

The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.

Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.

You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.

So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.

Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”

You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.

He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.

He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.

What a stupid fucking idea that had been.

Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.

And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.

Oh, he’s fucked.

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!

[runnning-outof-time]

Hasn’t Burned Down Yet | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @asherlockfandom

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) proves that she's still not one to be messed with when it comes to her business. Tommy's happy he's not the one in the line of fire this time.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking

Word Count: 3475

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to share this one with y’all…I’ve been going through it lately hah. I had a bunch of fun writing it though. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this can be read as a standalone, but to really know the Tommy and (Y/N) in this story, I suggest you check out the first part: The House’ll Burn Down…you can find it HERE.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"Someone's waiting up front for you, (Y/N)," Anna, one of (Y/N)'s employees, announced as she came into the back of the shop.

"Tell them I'll be out in five," (Y/N) responded, her eyes not leaving the latest sketch she was working on.

"He's not the sort that you keep waiting," Anna stated, her words making (Y/N) look up. The latter expected to see a look of worry on the former's face. Instead a slight smile was present.

"Ok...?" (Y/N) trailed off sounding slightly confused as she stood from her desk and walked to the front of the shop. Her brow stayed furrowed until she made it to the front counter and saw who was waiting for her.

"You forgot about my appointment, didn't you?" the man waiting out front asked, his one eyebrow quirked as a smirk played on his lips.

"Just come back, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) dismissed his teasing question, trying her best to hide her smile as she motioned to him, making Tommy walk around the counter to join her.

"I've got the front," Anna announced, smiling at her boss.

"Thank you, Anna," (Y/N) nodded, sending the younger woman a smile before she began to walk back to the workroom.

"Why do you insist on keeping appointments here?" (Y/N) questioned as she led him to one of the fitting rooms. "This could be done on our own time, you know."

"I thought it was you who insisted on keeping a separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" Tommy commented with a grin, following her into the fitting room before he took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his arms around her waist before she could say a word.

"Separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" she quipped once they'd pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Was you who wanted it, not me," he reminded her, sending a wink her way. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the gesture, but she couldn't stop her smile from growing. "Wanted to do that from the second I saw you out there," he admitted then.

"Well I'm happy you were able to control yourself, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) commented, patting his chest.

"I try my best, Mrs. Shelby," he responded, making her let out a breath of a laugh before she leaned in and kissed him again. "Your composure's easy to crack," he commented with a grin once they pulled away.

"Let's just get this finished with...before I become upset with you," (Y/N) said with a smile, pushing on his chest to break their embrace so that she could grab the things she needed to begin taking measurements.

Truthfully she knew the measurements of her husband by now, but Tommy still insisted on these fittings. He wanted to make sure that things were perfect. It wasn't that he doubted his wife's work, if anything it was because this gave him another chance to spend some time with her. Time was something that neither had much of due to their busy schedules.

Surely you’ve noticed by now that things have - obviously - changed between (Y/N) and Tommy. It most certainly didn't happen overnight though. After (Y/N) put Tommy in his place, she fully expected him to take his business elsewhere. But he stuck around, and when he realized that she wasn't going to change how she dealt with him, he decided to change his approach. One thing led to another and eventually, as of two months ago, (Y/N) found herself with a new surname. She honestly couldn't think of a time where she's been as happy as she is now.

Along with getting married, (Y/N)'s business has also taken off. She's now one of the most respected tailors in not only Small Heath, but the entirety of Birmingham. She worked hard to gain her reputation, and all of the countless hours that she spent mastering her craft have certainly paid off.

"What will you be wearing to the event?" Tommy decided to make conversation whilst (Y/N) was still taking measurements.

"Since when is that something you care about?" she playfully quipped in response as she moved over to her clipboard and wrote a few notes before returning to him.

"I want to make sure you match me," he gave his reason.

"Oh I'll make sure you do, darling," she smiled at him, her eyes finding his for just a moment before she motioned for him to hold his arms out so that she could take the measurements for his suit's jacket.

She bit on her bottom lip to try and conceal the smile as she brought her tape measure up and held it against the underneath of his arm. She did this to both sides before moving it down to hold it against his torso. She really had to bite on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hand down along his ribs. Just like she expected him to, Tommy flinched the second her fingers touched the space below his ribs.

"Stop moving," she teasingly chastised him, continuing on with making her measurements.

Tommy just grunted in response, watching her closely as she finished with his left side and moved onto his right. Here she slowed her actions down substantially. He couldn't help but flinch again when her fingers brushed over that same spot.

"I said stop moving, Thomas," she rebuked him again, lifting her gaze up to match his, showing him the smile that was present on her features.

"You know what you're doing," he commented, his eyes narrowing as they stayed locked onto hers.

"I do," she chirped, tilting her chin upwards, "very well."

"Then you should know..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "that I know those exact same spots on you," he paused, his eyes dropping to sneak a glance at her frame, "very well," he finished his statement by reaching out and pressing his fingers into the skin of her sides, where she was extremely ticklish.

These actions made (Y/N) shriek and quickly drop her hands so that she could try to get him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't an easy feat. "Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally managing to get ahold of his hands and pull them from her sides after a few moments had passed. "We're supposed to be professional here," she hissed at him then, trying her best to hide the smile that just wouldn't stay away. She stopped trying when she noticed that he was already smiling.

"Fair enough," he nodded, showing that he was conceding to her. "Finish your measurements."

(Y/N) let go of his hands with a huff and bent down to grab the tape measure that had been discarded when this all started. They then sent each other a look: (Y/N) to check if he was really finished with his previous tirade, and Tommy to tell her 'no more funny business'.

The stare down lasted a few moments, but nothing else happened once (Y/N) resumed taking her measurements. The only time the envelope was pushed was when Tommy spun (Y/N) around and managed to sneak a kiss just before she crossed the threshold into the front of the shop.

(Y/N) made sure that Tommy's suit complimented her dress for the gala they were attending that evening. She had picked out a royal blue evening gown, and made sure that Tommy's suit was a charcoal color and had a blue tie to bring it together. She also wanted to include a blue pocketsquare but Tommy fought it, saying that the tie was enough. (Y/N) finally conceded when Frances came and announced that their car had arrived, instead telling Tommy that he'd need to make this up to her in some way.

Now the event was in full swing. (Y/N) stayed by Tommy's side, joining him in the conversations that he was having. She was able to add meaningful viewpoints, and Tommy appreciated that. Her presence was way more than just a prize on his arm.

"Mr. Shelby, I must bring attention to the fine suit you've got on," Elliot Thorsby, a man who was a prominent figure in automobile sales, began as he approached the couple. (Y/N)'s smile grew as she heard what he said. The suit she made had been getting compliments like this one all evening. "Might I ask where you had it made?"

"Me wife’s the one who made it," Tommy was happy to share, nodding his head to the woman standing on his right. "She makes all of my suits."

"Ahh," Elliot responded, looking surprised as he nodded slowly. "Is she open to taking on new clients?" he asked then, still speaking to Tommy.

"Now that's something that I wouldn't know personally," Tommy began, glancing over at his wife before he continued, "why don't you ask her yourself?"

Elliot held Tommy's gaze for a few beats before it seemed like he snapped out of whatever bubble he was in. That was when he finally turned his attention to (Y/N). "Are you taking new clients, Mrs. Shelby?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in wait.

(Y/N) took a moment to respond to the question. She figured that he deserved to wait a few moments longer. After all it was him who decided to ask it indirectly in the first place. And she honestly quite enjoyed watching him squirm in his spot; obviously not used to being on the receiving side of this sort of situation.

"Well I've already got quite the schedule lined up, but for you, Mr. Thorsby, I'd be willing to make an exception," she finally informed him of her decision, a professional smile gracing her features.

"You would?" he sounded elated, almost like a kid on Christmas.

"I would," she affirmed with a nod.

"Wonderful," Elliot grinned. He paused as a man came to his side and whispered something in his ear. "You'll need to excuse me now, a business matter has come up. We'll reconnect at the end of the evening and schedule a time," he told the Shelby couple once the other man had left.

"That sounds fine," (Y/N) nodded at him, then accepting the handshake that Elliot extended to both her and Tommy. He was the first to leave the conversation, leaving the husband and wife to turn to each other.

"Got you another client," Tommy commented on the previous coversation as he fished the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"We'll see how it goes," (Y/N) answered in a nonchalant manner, smiling at her husband as she shrugged her shoulders.

The earliest Elliot Thorsby was able to come to (Y/N)'s shop in Small Heath was two weeks after their initial conversation date.

She greeted him with a smile before telling Anna that she'd be taking this client and that the younger woman should man the desk while she was gone. Once everything was squared away in that regard, (Y/N) waved on Elliot for him to come back with her.

Things went well with the fitting. (Y/N) was able to get a good read on what Elliot wanted and had some great ideas for a design before she was even finished with the measurements. Now she couldn't wait to get some time alone to get started on her beginning sketches. But first she had to see Mr. Thorsby out.

The two returned to the front of the store. (Y/N) told Anna that she was able to return to her previous project, leaving her and Mr. Thorsby alone at the counter. She quickly got to work on calculating the price of the fitting visit and also what the suit would cost. She then shared that final price with him without second thought.

A few moments passed and Elliot still hadn't offered up the money yet. This made (Y/N) glance up from the ledger she was writing down the sale in. "Is there a problem?" she asked with raised brows, immediately noticing the sour look that was present on his face.

"Don't you think the price is a bit...much?" he questioned her.

"No, sir. It's spot on with what I normally charge," there was no hesitation in her answer.

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, obviously not pleased with the response he was given. "But given my relationship with your husband, and the business we've conducted together…” he paused again, “well don't you think that warrants a lesser price?"

It took everything in (Y/N) to stop the scoff that she wanted to let out in response to his statement. It made her look of confusion quickly turn to one of surprise. "Your relationship and the manner in which you conduct business with my husband does not have any effect on how I run my business, Mr. Thorsby," she began, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "I take pride in my work and I know how much my suits are worth."

"But for a man with my standing, don't you think that..."

"You'll pay full price for the suit," she cut him off before he could even finish his statement.

Hearing her blatant demand made his jaw go slack. "And if your husband gets knowledge of the manner in which you're treating his associates?" he decided to try another direction.

"My husband pays full price as well," she quickly shut him down for the second time, not in the slightest bit fazed by his threats.

"Your own husband?" there was bewilderment in Mr. Thorsby's voice.

"He knows how much they're worth," (Y/N) doubled down, once again speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I think you're making a rather grand mistake here, Mrs. Shelby," he tried one last time to try and turn the tides in his favor.

(Y/N) didn't waste a moment worrying about his threat. "I think I'll be just fine," she assured him, a tight-lipped smile forming on her face. She hoped that it added salt into the wound she'd inflicted upon his ego.

"You're not afraid of what'll come once word of this gets out?" he still continued trying. It was almost comical now. She sent him a look; a non-verbal way of asking him 'are we finished here?'. But he paid no attention to it, instead trying one last line that he used when he didn't get his way. "Do you not know how much power I hold?"

Ahh, the power card, (Y/N) thought to herself as she continued to try her hardest and hold back her scoff, where have I heard that one before?.

She was way passed finished with him and his droning on at this point. His pestering had brought her to the end of her professional rope. She was trying like hell to keep herself composed and not lose her cool. She wanted to keep taking the high road.

A few moments passed before she took a deep breath and finally responded: "I've dealt with the likes of you before, Mr. Thorsby. I've been given threats harsher in nature than the one you've just told me. My shop hasn't burned down yet. So I'm not worried about what your comments on the prices of my suits will do to my reputation." Her eyes never left his as she spoke, showing him that she meant every single word.

Another pause arose, and (Y/N) wondered if maybe she'd finally gotten through to him. Maybe he'll finally leave.

But, of course, he stayed standing in front of the counter. "Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" he gave one last try, his eyebrows raising as he tried to keep up his imposing figure. It was more then obvious that said figure wasn't working on (Y/N) though.

"Are you going to pay for the suit, Mr. Thorsby?" she asked him, no longer wanting to entertain his theatrics, her eyes still locked onto his. It became even more apparent as each second passed that she wasn't going to change her mind on this.

"You'll regret this, Mrs. Shelby," he finally conceded, but not without throwing one last threat out there.

"As will you, Mr. Thorsby. Have a nice day," she nodded, still unfazed by all of it as her dismissive goodbye made him turn and exit her shop. She stood stoic and watched as the door shut behind him. Only when she was finally alone did she shake her head and let out a huff. "Prick," she muttered to herself before she tore the ledger sheet out of the book and crumbled it up.

"Do you remember Elliot Thorsby?" (Y/N) asked as she moved over to the mantlepiece in Tommy's office later that evening.

"Course I do," Tommy responded without up looking from the paper he was reading, "what about him?"

"He came for his fitting today," she started, grabbing one of the decanters and an empty glass so that she could pour herself a drink.

"And?" he asked for more information, finally looking up at her just as she spun to face him.

(Y/N) didn't answer right away, instead bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a healthy swig from it. She hissed at the burn that accompanied the whiskey as it slid down her throat and tried her best to smile at her husband. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her as he removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose, now waiting intently for her to share something with him.

(Y/N) brought the glass back up to her lips and held it there as she let the silence linger for a little bit longer. She didn't quite know why she was waiting so long...maybe she enjoyed watching him as he tried to hold his intent composure. "I don't think you should work with him anymore," she finally told him.

"Why not?" he immediately asked for more information.

"He felt that he should pay less for his suit because of his connection to you; felt that I should honor your relationship and then threatened me when I wouldn't adhere to his tactics," she happily told him about her interaction with the businessman.

"He threatened you?" Of course this was the part of her statement that Tommy fixated on.

"Well he tried to...the threats didn't really take," she shrugged, finishing the rest of her glass.

"What did he say to you?" he was still hung up on it.

"Tommy it was nothing," she brushed his worry off. His expression didn't change. (Y/N) let out a sigh before she began walking in his direction. "He told me that I'd lose my clients because he has influence," she told him as she stopped in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as he turned the chair in her direction. She took that as her signal to sit on his lap. He went back to staring straight ahead once she sat. It didn't take long for her to notice that he still wasn't completely convinced. "Tommy..." she trailed off, taking hold of his chin so that he'd be looking at her again, "what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that maybe I should go have a word with him."

"I told you it's fine. I handled it, and I'm not worried about what he's claiming he'll do," she assured him. A smile creeped onto (Y/N)'s features as she thought of something else to add. "Besides, it's not like he threatened me with arson...like this one client I had.”

Tommy couldn't stop the grin from forming as he immediately realized what she was hinting at. “Who’d threaten something like that, hmm?” he questioned, playing along with her.

“Someone who really wanted to try his luck,” she answered, letting go of his chin so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.

“I’d say the risk paid off,” he wagered, his hold on her tightening slightly so that he could pull her even closer.

“It seems like it did,” she agreed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

Their kiss was short, and he was soon parting from her to share the next move that he’d thought up. “Any business with Thorsby will be finished tomorrow.”

“Stop thinking about him and kiss me, Tommy,” she responded, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

He chuckled at her abrupt statement and wasted no time in doing what she asked him to. His lips were back on hers within seconds, and Elliot Thorsby was the furthest thing from each of their minds.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @deadcrowcalling

MASTERLIST

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Knight in Shining Motorcycle: Part Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: feeling rejected and heartbroken, going on yet another bad date, belittling wait staff (by the date), fluff at the end

Summary: It's been a month since the incident with Jackson. It's been a month since you felt Bucky's arms around you. It's been a month and he hasn't said one word about it, and seems like he's gone back to his usual ways. It's time for you to move but why can't you?

read part one here: Knight in Shining Motorcycle

Squares Filled: seeking comfort in best friend (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been a month since you and Bucky shared a bed. It’s been a month since he saved you from that disastrous date with Jackson. It’s been a month since you felt his arms around you, and you haven’t felt them since. It’s like after that night, Bucky went back to his normal ways of fucking a new girl every week. He refuses to think about that night, talk about that night, and acknowledge that it even happened.

Sometimes, he’d bring two girls back to the apartment for a very long night of you wanting to kill yourself from the noises you’d hear. You don’t get it. You thought you two had something. Were you just a means to an end? Another girl to get into his bed even though you never did anything other than sleep? Another notch in his belt?

The only person you can find comfort in is your best friend and Bucky’s sister, Mia. She’s the only one who will hear you complain about him because everyone does it. All of her friends who have gotten involved with Bucky have complained to her about how he didn’t treat them right or they caught feelings but he tossed them aside like they meant nothing.

However, this time it’s different. It’s the way you talk about Bucky or the way she sees him with other girls that makes her think there is something more to this than meets the eye.

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” you ask and fiddle with your cappuccino.

“No, sorry, hun.”

“I should move out. I don’t know where I’d go.”

“I wish I could say you can stay with me. Ty and I just converted the spare bedroom into our home office.”

“I know. I appreciate the offer. I have a little money saved but I have to tough it out until I get enough to afford something small.”

“Ty’s sister is a real estate agent. I can give her your number and she can try and help you out.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’m still trying to figure things out.”

“Hey, can Ty and I borrow your car this weekend? Ours is in the shop and we planned a romantic weekend up north.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off the night before.”

“Thanks!”

You take a sip from your coffee and hear a motorcycle in the distance. You’d recognize that bike anywhere. Bucky pulls up near the cafe where you and Mia are and parks on the side of the road. He has a girl on the back of his bike that he no doubt met that day. Right in front of him is some fancy clothing store she wanted to go to. She gets off the bike, removes her helmet, and leaves him on the bike to go inside the store alone.

Bucky looks in your general direction but with his helmet on, it’s hard to determine exactly what he is looking at. Still, that doesn’t stop the glare you’re giving him.

“Just ignore him,” Mia says and pops a doughnut hole into her mouth.

“Easier said than done,” you mutter and look away from him. “That next morning, he acted like nothing happened. I figured he didn’t want to talk about it. Then a couple of days passed and he still didn’t mention it. Weeks went by and now I know he’s doing this to me on purpose. He’s being an ass.”

Bucky gets off his bike and takes off his helmet to get some fresh air, and he leans against the side of it effortlessly. If you were to do that, you’d surely knock the bike over. He waits for his fuck buddy to come out of the store, and she bounces over to him with a bag in hand. She wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her in for a kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss that is meant for the bedroom but also the kind of kiss you want to show off to someone. You can’t be here anymore.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

You get up and toss some bills onto the table for your drink and leave in the opposite direction of Bucky and his new toy.

Bucky pulls away from the girl and looks over to where you and Mia are. When he doesn’t see you, he looks around for you only to see your retreating figure. He feels like shit for doing that. He absentmindedly rubs the knuckles that hold small scars from when he beat Jackson up for what he did to you.

You take the entire day to walk around town and be by yourself, so when you get home it’s already dark. Bucky is in the kitchen cooking something when you put your keys in the bowl by the front door. You round the corner and see him cooking something with only a towel wrapped around his waist as if he just got out of the shower. However, there isn’t any water on his body.

“Grab it while it’s hot,” he says.

“Really? You’re cooking in a towel? You couldn’t have gotten dressed first?”

He opens his mouth to reply but someone speaks from his bedroom that interrupts him.

“Bucky, where are you? I’m getting lonely.”

Bucky doesn’t feel guilty that he has a girl over. He feels guilty that you caught him. He sees the heartbroken look in your eyes that makes him want to shoot himself.

“Thanks for the offer but I’m not hungry. I’m sleeping over at Mia’s tonight.”

He lets you walk away.

The weekend comes quicker than you’d like. Without a car, you’re stuck in the apartment, and you’re not about to ask Bucky for a ride on his motorcycle. You’re stuck in your room on your phone when you get a message from Mia.

Hey, I know you didn’t ask for this but I hooked you up with someone Ty knows. He’s super nice!

like a blind date?

Yeah. I can tell him you’re not interested. I figured this is your chance to get over my brother.

yeah, i can try. where is the date?

At the new bar that just opened next to the cafe. His name is Travis. I told him 7 tonight.

okay. thank you. i’ll let you know how it goes.

Seven is three hours away, so you better get ready now. After taking a shower, you look in your closet for something to wear and come across the dress you wore for your date with Jackson. You haven’t worn it since because of the memories attached to it. Not memories of Jackson, memories of Bucky. Next to that dress is Bucky’s leather jacket he told you to keep. Like the dress, you haven’t worn it since and you’re sure as hell not going to wear it now.

There is a floral print dress that goes down to your ankles. It’s off the shoulders with long sleeves down to your wrists that bunches so the sleeves look flowy instead of compressed. The entire dress is flowy and light, perfect for a blind date. The match, you have chunky white wedges that give you a few extra inches. You keep your makeup light, hair down in soft waves, and jewelry that compliments the dress.

You leave your room and look at Bucky’s closed door. He’s been spending a lot of time in his room this past week with girls he picks up from anywhere. The only reason you’re telling him where you’re going is because you live with him. If you don’t, he’ll send an army to go look for you. There are noises and giggling coming from inside the room but when you knock, they cease.

One minute later, the door opens a crack and Bucky stands there with messy hair and sweats on.

“I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.”

Bucky takes a moment to look at the outfit you’ve chosen and his demeanour changes immediately.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a date.”

“You don’t have a car.”

“I’ll Uber. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

You leave before he has a chance to say anything else. It takes the Uber ten minutes to get to you and another thirty minutes to get to the restaurant. Mia sent you a picture of what the man looks like but it was grainy and unclear. You step out with your phone in hand while looking around for Travis.

“Y/N?”

You turn to see an attractive man wearing a nice suit. You look at the picture once more to confirm it’s Travis, which it is.

“You must be Travis,” you chuckle nervously.

“Yeah. Wow, Mia sent me your picture but nothing compares to real life. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you blush.

“I made us a reservation. Shall we go inside?”

“After you.”

You two walk inside, get your table, order, and start chatting about your lives. Travis is a bit boring when it comes to having adventures. Unlike you. You can write a book about the adventures you’ve been on because you have Bucky as a roommate. When he’s not fucking some random girl, he’s actually pretty cool to hang out with. You two have been everywhere in town doing all sorts of things.

“So, what do you do for work?” Travis asks and sips his drink.

“Uh, I am an IT specialist who works from home. I get calls daily on how to fix computers and other tech-related stuff. It pays well and I get to stay home, so that’s a bonus.”

“That’s awesome. I’m terrible when it comes to computers.”

“What do you do?”

“I am a financial manager. Like you, it pays well but I’m stuck in meetings and in the office all the time.”

“Have you always wanted to work in the financial world?”

The waitress comes by with your food and sets the plates in front of you and Travis. You think she’s going to walk away and you can continue your conversation with Travis, but that’s not what happens.

“Am I supposed to be impressed with this?” he asks angrily.

“Excuse me?” the waitress stutters.

“I don’t even have to touch this to know it’s cold. Do I have to go back there and tell you how to do your damn job?” 

Your mouth opens in embarrassment and shock.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take this back right now and have it fixed.”

The waitress grabs the plate without looking at you and leaves immediately. Poor thing looks like she is going to cry. Travis shakes his head and turns back to you as if this never happened.

“So, anyway, I went to business school and all that, but it’s nice to get out of the office every once in a while, you know?”

You have no idea what to say. Mistreating waitstaff is an immediate turn off. Everything attractive about this man suddenly turns sour. You’re lucky you saw this early on instead of at the end of the date.

“I’m sorry, I have to use the ladies room. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, sure.”

You take everything you own with you because you’re not coming back to this table. You make it seem like you’re going to the bathroom in case he’s watching but once your table is out of sight, you find the first waitress you see which so happens to be yours.

“Hey, I am so sorry about the way he spoke to you like that. I don’t even know him. My best friend set me up. Listen, I gotta get out of here but the table we’re at is by the door. Is there a back entrance I can use?”

“Yeah, I got you. He gave me the ick as soon as I saw him,” she shutters. “Follow me.” She takes you through the kitchen and the back door that they use when they go on breaks. “Good luck.”

“Oh, and don’t be afraid to spit in his food.”

“Trust me, the cook’s all over it.”

You walk through the small alley next to the bar to the main street. You take out your phone to call an Uber, but luck has it so that you don’t have any service. You try moving the phone around, even walking down to the street light, but nothing comes up.

“Damn it,” you mutter.

You can’t call Mia. You can’t use your car because she has it. The only person you know is Bucky. Should you call him? He’s probably frolicking with that woman still. Even if you were to call him, he’d probably hate you for ruining his date. The only other option is to walk home even though it took thirty minutes to get here by car.

The road stretches through the mountain briefly which you don’t want to walk through but what else are you gonna do? If you can’t get service in a busy restaurant area, there is no way you’re gonna get service in the mountains. The walk gives you time to think about your life. You have a good job that pays well but you can’t keep living with Bucky if it means seeing him with all these women. You have a major thing for him and it kills you to know you’re not the one he’s going home with.

Ten minutes go by until you hear the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle. It races past you without a second thought, screeches to a stop, turns around, and slowly creeps up behind you. You don’t have to see who it is to know who it is. Bucky pulls up next to you and walks the bike to keep up with your pace.

“Get on the bike.”

“No, I’ll walk. Thanks.”

“Don’t be difficult, Y/N. Get on the bike.”

“How the hell did you even find me?”

“I asked Mia. She told me the guy you were on a date with. I looked him up, and he posted to his Facebook about how his date ditched him, and all women are beneath him. He’s a fucking loser. I mean, he still uses Facebook,” he chuckles. “I figured you were out here somewhere.”

“Stop stalking me,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll meet you at home.”

“Get on the damn bike.”

“No!” Bucky revs his engine and surges forward, parking right in front of you to prevent you from going further. You try to go around him but he moves his bike in your path. “Why the hell do you care about me? You’ve proven I mean nothing to you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks and gets off his bike.

“You fucking know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, then you’re not worth my time.” You try pushing past him to continue your walk but he grabs your arm to prevent you from doing so. You quickly turn and slap his face. The shock is enough for him to let go of you. “Don’t fucking touch me. The last time you touched me, you left and never spoke of it again. Just go, please. You have a girl waiting for you at home. Just go to her.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?!”

“Because she’s not you!” he yells loudly.

“Do better,” you scoff.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself. “I love you!” You pause to take in the information. “I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I’ve been trying all month to get you out of my head. None of the girls I’ve brought home have ever stuck because they’re not you. Being with you that one night has been better than anything I’ve done all fucking month.”

“Then why did you let me walk away?” you ask in a heartbreaking tone.

“Because I’m an idiot. Because you’re the realest thing I’ve ever had, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

Silence befalls the two of you, and you look around the desolate road.

“So, what are you gonna do about it?”

More silence. Bucky takes three big steps to get to you, grabs your waist with one hand, slides his other into your hair, and kisses you like he was supposed to a month ago. His lips fit so perfectly against your own like they belong there. You’ve pictured this moment in so many different ways, but this is not on your list.

“Are we really doing this?” you ask when he pulls away.

“Do you want to?” You nod with a smile. “You’re my girl now.”

“No more other women.”

“I’ve got the one I want.”

He leans down and kisses you again, this time, making your head soar to new places.

x

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[thepixelelf]

the only way to get a good sleep

genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 1.3k warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day! ((it's technically a recast of an old fic of mine so I'm just praying you haven't read that one shhhhhh))

Seokmin misses you lots n lots.

Seokmin hasn’t slept in days.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but any sleep he’s gotten has been fitful, restless, and generally not a good time.

He never really thought you’d be a catalyst like this. You only moved in two weeks ago -- some of your boxes are still sitting unopened in the living room, waiting for you to unpack them. The closet and dresser space Seokmin freed up for you remains half empty, since you were both too lazy to fully move in, more focused and elated on the fact that you’d finally done it. Seokmin had taken weeks, no, months to finally ask the question, and the way you’d answered so easily (with a smile, a laugh, and a hug) made it seem like all his worrying was ridiculous. The move was stressful, and cancelling your rent with your previous landlord was a nightmare, but the fact that you to would be together made Seokmin see everything through rose-tinted glasses. He didn’t care what he had to go through as long as you shared a home at the end of the day.

Of course, you two had slept in the same bed many times before you moved in, but somehow this was different. In the past two weeks, Seokmin swore he woke up already smiling, simply because you were there; beside him; living with him.

But since you left two days ago, he hasn’t slept a wink.

He knows you’re not gone forever, but still, he just can’t force his eyes to close; his breath to even out; his mind to rest. And he doesn’t know when exactly you’ll be back, either, considering your impromptu trip back to your family’s home wasn’t planned at all.

His mind wanders to the last message you sent him.

[my moonlight] miss you too, my sunshine

He lies still on top of the bedsheets, eyes trailing along the bumps and ridges of the ceiling. Sleep won’t come tonight, either -- he can tell.

Maybe he should call you. Last time he tried that (the night before), it got him about an hour of light sleep before he woke up again, but at least it was something. He needs to work tomorrow, and he isn’t sure he can keep his eyes open there after three nights of tossing and turning.

Sitting up, his hand wanders along the bed looking for his phone, which he picks up and detaches from its charger. It’s midnight already. Should he risk waking you up?

Well, he knows you have your phone on silent most of the time, so if you are asleep, he won’t be bothering you. He’s got nothing to lose.

The dial tone rings in his ear twice before he flops back down on the bed, his other hand coming to rest upon his stomach. After another two rings, he almost gives up, but then your voice makes an appearance, and he smiles.

“Trouble sleeping?” is the first thing you say. You really know him too well.

“Yeah... it’s just not the same without you.”

Along with faint footsteps, he hears your quiet laughter through the speaker. “You cheeseball.”

“I mean it,” he says, and he does. “What are you up to?”

“Are you asking me to talk until you fall asleep?”

His smile widens, and he knows he should be trying to keep still in order to fall asleep, but he can’t help it. “Only if you’re willing.”

“Well.” Something dings around you. “As much as I’d love to lull you to sleep, I need you to do something for me.”

“Hm?” Seokmin perks up, his interest piqued.

“I got you something,” you say. “It should be at your door in, hm, twenty seconds?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, still holding his phone up to his ear. His lips purse in confusion.

“How’d you get it up here? Deliveries go to the lobby desk.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Somehow, Seokmin can hear your smile. “Just open the door.”

Knowing you, Seokmin simply complies, leaving the bedroom to reach the door to the apartment hall. He’s a bit too tired to understand much, but he knows anything from you is worth getting out of bed for. After fumbling with the chain lock, he finally twists the doorknob.

You stand just beyond the doorway, your phone held up at your ear and a bright smile on your face.

“Hey stranger.”

Too tired to comprehend what’s right in front of him, he still speaks into his phone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

You humour him, talking into your phone as well. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

He nods. “Uh huh.”

When he sees you laugh and hang up, he glances at his phone to do the same, still awestruck to have you standing there.

“C’mere you big softie, I missed your hugs,” you say, opening up your arms.

Seokmin smiles again and swoops in to wrap his arms around you. He relishes in your warmth, a smile against the skin of your neck -- which he knows you can feel. Slowly, he closes the door behind you and waddles with you through the apartment. It’s awkward with the way he clings to you, but he doesn’t care. He takes you all the way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with you squished underneath, and his heart flutters at your laughter.

“What’s this?” you tease.

“You were gone too long,” he says instead of answering, and you laugh again.

Despite your playful words, you soothingly pat the back of Seokmin’s head as you speak. “Well, it’s not every day your kid sister dumps her fiance.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.”

“To you, maybe,” you counter. “To me, she’ll always be my kid sister.”

Seokmin hums into your skin, already feeling the effects of holding you in his arms. He’s insanely tired. Still, he cares enough to ask, “How is she?”

“Heartbroken.” You sigh, a frown on your lips that Seokmin can guess is there rather than see it. “But she’ll get better. She’s strong like that.”

“Mhmm...” Seokmin’s eyes are closed -- have been since falling into bed with you -- and he’s starting to drift off. Before he can fully lose himself though, he lifts up on his elbows so he hovers above you, a drowsy smile on his face. He dips low, meeting his lips with yours in a soft, lazy kiss. You reciprocate at the exact same level, simply pursing your lips and not asking for anything more. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin can’t say which kisses of yours are his favourite; he thinks he may get a new one every time. Whenever your lips are on his will be his favourite, he thinks.

He presses his forehead to yours, mirroring your wide smile with one of his own, eyes drifting shut once again. Collapsing on top of you, he hugs you tight, ready to fall asleep right then and there atop the covers.

“Seokmin,” you whisper, kissing his temple and twisting so you’re on your side. “I need to brush my teeth.”

He groans; hugs you tighter.

You laugh. Your hands move to push him off, though you put no real effort into it. “I gotta change too, sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Propping himself up again, Seokmin opens his eyes to meet your sparkling ones.

“Hey,” he says. He kisses you again, and your smile persists.

“Hey.”

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, grazing your thumbs over his skin as if to test that he’s real. He loves when you do that.

His lips meet yours; soft, warm.

“You wanna get married?”

“Mmm...” you hum in a sleepy daze. Your hands pull him down for yet another kiss, this one lasting longer, though still as sweet and slow as the others. When you retract, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Can I brush my teeth first?”

Seokmin sleeps better tonight than he ever has before.

part two: How to Harvest Sunshine

[annieqattheperipheral]

you have to read this in full!!

i gotchu from behind the $wall:

The day Luke Prokop shook the hockey world by coming out, he needed to get away.

And stop looking at his constantly buzzing phone.

It was July 21, 2021, and the right-shot defenseman had just become the first openly gay hockey player under an NHL contract. The Nashville Predators’ No. 73 pick in the 2020 draft was just 19 years old and hadn’t even turned pro yet. He didn’t know how it would impact his future. His nerves were fried.

But one text message was impossible to ignore. He didn’t recognize the number but certainly knew the name.

“Hey, it’s Auston Matthews. I wanted to congratulate you. I look forward to sharing the ice with you someday.”

Prokop was blown away. The Toronto Maple Leafs superstar wasn’t the most famous person to reach out — that honor goes to Elton John — but the fact that so many NHLers, including one of the league’s best and most powerful players, were offering support meant a lot.

Now 21, Prokop still hasn’t taken the NHL ice, but on Wednesday he took a step forward, being recalled by the Predators’ AHL affiliate in Milwaukee. He could become the first openly gay player to appear in an AHL game Friday night for the Admirals in Rockford.

As difficult as the decision to come out was, Prokop told The Athletic in an extended conversation recently that he’s been mentally and physically freed by it. He doesn’t have to hide. He can be himself, on and off the ice. Heck, he can even date.

“It’s been massive,” he said.

Teammates and fans have welcomed him in his journey toward the NHL so far, from Calgary, Edmonton and Seattle of the junior WHL to, most recently, Atlanta of the ECHL. They treated him like he was any other player.

Not that there’s not room to grow. Prokop figured more players would come out after he did. They haven’t, not that he would rush anyone’s decision on that. He’s also been disappointed by the developments over the past few years with the NHL’s inclusion efforts, including the Pride tape “debacle.”

He can only control his own actions, though, and doesn’t regret his decision.

“I’d like to think I’m a realistic person,” Prokop said. “I know hockey is not going to be forever. As much as (when I came out) I would have loved to keep playing, I was OK with not playing any more if it didn’t work out — just being able to live my life the way I wanted, to be myself.

“But now, I don’t want to stop playing. It was definitely nerve-wracking. You never know what the reaction is going to be inside hockey, outside hockey, because no one has done it before. We kind of went out on a limb and hoped for the best. It’s been way more positive than we thought it’d be. You’re going to have some keyboard warriors, which there were a few, but I was expecting more.

“I did not expect the amount of support I got from NHL players. That was really cool.”

- - - - - - -

The Matthews text and Elton John phone call the morning after were memorable, with the gay rock legend welcoming him to the community and offering his email address if Prokop ever needed anything.

Prokop found even more comfort in a moment that came a few days later — the first time he played hockey since his announcement. It was a four-on-four league in Edmonton at Meadows Rec Center, a place where pros and NHLers competed and kept in shape during the offseason.

Prokop was on a team with Colton and Kirby Dach. The other team had Philadelphia Flyers goalie Carter Hart and the Boston Bruins’ Jake DeBrusk. During warmups, Prokop found himself near mid-ice. The first guy to approach him was DeBrusk. The two had met previously through mutual friends. DeBrusk tapped Prokop’s shin pads with his stick.

“Congrats,” he told him. “I’m really happy for you. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I didn’t know what the reaction would be,” Prokop said. “So that meant a lot.”

Prokop was returning that year to the Calgary Hitmen (WHL), the junior team he had played for the previous four seasons. But there had been a lot of turnover on the roster and, of course, a lot had changed for Prokop. So he decided to address the team in its first meeting in training camp.

“Everyone knows what I did last summer,” he told his team. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. There might be a lot of media asking you for an interview. If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to do them. If you have any questions for me, come ask me. I’m an open book. I just don’t want you guys to feel uncomfortable.”

In that dressing room, Prokop had heard plenty of the uncomfortable language that’s not uncommon for any locker room. He even admitted using it. He didn’t want to out himself. He wanted to act straight, be “one of the guys.”

“I heard it, but it wasn’t all the time,” he said. “I also took it from the perspective that these guys don’t know any better. It’s hockey language. It’s how guys talk. They don’t mean it in a harmful way. They use the word ‘gay’ as a filler at the end of a sentence to make something stupid. ‘Well, that’s so gay.’ I wasn’t comfortable with it, but I used it myself. I didn’t want to seem like I was out of the mix.

“Some guys texted me (after I came out), ‘F—, sorry if I said anything to offend you when we played.’ I’d just say, ‘Guys, you had no idea.’ The lesson is you don’t know what everyone is going through. The words you say do matter. Make sure you think before you speak. It’s a silly rule you learn in kindergarten. It applies to life when you’re 22 or 35 and never goes away.

“The way hockey is going with the language, guys are naturally changing their language. I’ve heard a change in language on every team I’ve been on.”

Prokop said that season was the best of his career, both from a production standpoint and a personal one. He was traded to the Edmonton Oil Kings early in the season and had 10 goals and 33 points in 55 games for them, helping them win the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup and advance to the Memorial Cup.

Luke Prokop won the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup with the Oil Kings in 2022. (Courtesy of Oilers Entertainment Group)

Luke Pierce, then an assistant coach for Edmonton and now the head coach, said the staff and management had discussions with the leadership group before acquiring Prokop — making sure they were comfortable with it, feeling out whether their room could handle the attention. Pierce said he asked one of the captains, Blues prospect Jake Neighbours, for his perspective. Neighbours had known Prokop since they were 10 or 11, growing up playing in spring tournaments together. He told Pierce and the staff there would be “zero issue” and he’d be a great addition.

Neighbours said nothing really changed, that Prokop “fit right in” to the team. Pierce at first wondered if players would have any issue with rooming assignments on the road, but nobody blinked. Pierce noted that Prokop would joke about situations and even opened up about his boyfriend coming to visit.

“He put everybody at ease,” Pierce said. “I often tell people, if the outside world could see how the group of men interacted, it would be just a tremendous inspiration on how we should treat everybody.”

Pierce and Prokop pointed out how this generation is more comfortable and equipped to handle LGBTQ+ inclusion issues. Everyone seems to know someone, be friends with someone, or be related to someone in the community.

“I just don’t think guys really care anymore,” Prokop said. “They might be nervous as they have this stereotype version of what a gay guy might look like, sound like, act like. Like me, coming to a team, they think I’ll act a certain way, look a certain way, but they’ll realize three minutes into talking to me that I’m not that.

“Hockey is part of me. It’s who I am. Guys totally forget (about me being gay) when I’m at the rink. They’re not afraid to ask questions. But other than that, it never really comes up. That’s how I wanted it to be. I wanted them to know, but we can all go out and play. I never wanted to be a distraction.”

- - - - - - -

The NHL’s decisions around Pride jerseys and stick tape weren’t a distraction, Prokop said, but he has gotten frustrated about it.

He understood the issue over wearing sweaters during warmups — “jerseys weren’t really their choice” — but lamented that the fact the focus was on the handful of players who refused to wear them and not all the others who did. The NHL’s initial banning of Pride stick tape, then its reversal, was a whole other topic.

“To take away choices from players was really confusing,” Prokop said. “Some of them don’t really care. For some, it was near and dear to their heart. To take it away was mind-boggling. From the players’ side, the support was there. Zach Hyman talked about it, Travis Dermott. I like what they did. They didn’t make a big deal about it before — they just did it. Let fans see the rest, and it’ll take care of itself. There’s a massive amount of support from players in the NHL.”

What do the Pride tape and sweaters mean for someone in the LGBTQ+ community?

Prokop didn’t recall noticing them growing up going to Oilers games. He never got to see someone who was gay using Pride tape on the TV screen. He had to deal with it himself — “jump over those barriers without any help.” But Prokop continued pursuing his hockey career whereas “a lot of people don’t feel comfortable pursuing their career without that exposure, without feeling like they’re being seen.”

“I think with the Pride tape stuff, they were trying to show support for their older fans,” Prokop said of the NHL. “The fans that have been watching hockey for 40-50 years. That’s not how you grow the game. You want to get the younger generation, put these guys in the best situation to promote the game. Sometimes I don’t think the NHL does that the correct way. The Pride tape is one example.”

Prokop has been part of two Pride nights since he came out, one with the Edmonton Oil Kings and another with Seattle. The Oil Kings staff approached him after not having that event on their promotional calendar. They planned it in two weeks and it was a big hit, with around 8,000 fans in attendance.

“Some guys told me it was the most impactful game they’d been in during their career,” Prokop said. “They said they didn’t realize how many Queer fans they had. I don’t think they realize how much my community watches hockey, plays hockey and cares about hockey.

The Seattle Pride night was fan-driven, which made it unique. Thunderbirds fans noticed that other rival teams had a special night for Pride and made a push for their own, making bracelets and T-shirts. Prokop told teammates they didn’t have to wear the stick tape — he knows how superstitious hockey players are. They all wore some, for him.

“I always look at the perspective, the other side of Pride nights — why do you have them if no one on the team is gay?” Prokop said. “The point is that it’s for the fans. For me, it means a lot to play in them to show my community and be a representative on the ice.”

While education is important, Prokop said any real change in the NHL when it comes to inclusion will start with other players coming out. He’s not putting any timeline or pressure on that. He didn’t have one. But that’s when players in the league will see a different perspective, get more comfortable with it.

“Otherwise, it’s always going to be a story,” Prokop said. “I also can see why guys don’t want to come out. Especially in the NHL. They’ve been very successful, so why change? I kind of saw that from the perspective when the whole Pride jersey story came out. My phone was blowing up. I don’t think guys want to have to deal with that. There was a responsibility for me to talk about these topics. I don’t think guys want to do that. I can see it from that side, why they don’t want to come out.

“I don’t think anything is going to change unless someone else does. Someone else will step up. It’s only a matter of time. I thought there’d maybe be two, three of us by now. But it hasn’t happened. But I know there’s going to be someone else soon. It’s math. There’s what, 700 players in the league? There’s definitely a few more.”

- - - - - - -

While there have been some derogatory comments coming from the stands on a few occasions, Prokop has been encouraged there have been none from opposing players.

“Zero,” he said.

Most of the feedback he’s received, even on social media, has been positive. And it’s not just the comments like Matthews’ that stick with him. Two high schoolers in Seattle, Kaitlin and Jo, reached out to him over Instagram. They are part of the LGBTQ+ community and were struggling.

“Like everyone, they just wanted someone to talk to,” Prokop said.

Part of Prokop’s pregame routine is usually to hang by the bench and listen to music. On many occasions, Kaitlin and Jo would come by and the three of them would just chat for 10, 12 minutes. They’re the fans that Prokop saw every game above the tunnel on his way to the dressing room. They’ve stayed in touch. Prokop even did a Zoom meeting with their high school class last month. “They have a special place in my heart,” he said.

When, and if, Prokop makes his NHL debut, he says he’ll have a special secret plan for them.

Whether Prokop lives his NHL dream remains to be seen. He’s praised the Predators for their support from the first time he did a group video call with the staff. Former NHLer Mark Borowiecki, now a development coach, has been someone Prokop has leaned on often, not only for on-ice advice but for help getting through things mentally.

Scott Nichol, the Predators’ assistant GM, likes Prokop’s potential.

“Big right-shot defensemen that can skate, move the puck. They don’t grow on trees,” he said. “He just needs to polish up his game in some areas in the defensive zone. He’s got the tools. He’s got the skating ability. It’s just patience and embrace the process.”

Prokop is grateful for his support group, from his parents, Al and Nicole, to his brother, Josh, and sister, Alanna. He’s kept in touch with Heather Lefebvre, who is a specialist in hockey engagement and alumni relations with the Oilers Entertainment Group. They talk almost every day. What sticks out to Lefebvre is how young Prokop was when he came out (19), and while he wears this “trailblazer” cap, he’s still standing alone.

“I think this generation is more ready for it than past generations, for sure,” Lefebvre said. “It says a lot to me that nobody else has come out in the year and a half since he has. He’s the only openly gay player under NHL contract, but he’s not the only gay player under NHL contract.

“That’s where I think we have work to do. Is it great that he’s been accepted and can do his thing? Yes. But he looks at the positives, which makes me really happy for him. But that doesn’t mean there’s no negative.”

Prokop takes the positives in his off-ice life, too. He lives with Alanna in the offseason back home in Edmonton. He’s found teammates to share in his hobbies, like golf (he plays 40 to 50 rounds a year). He loves to read, from biographies to sci-fi. He watches basketball more than hockey and has more than 25 jerseys. He cooks. He got into puzzles during the pandemic and is bullish about doing them on his own.

Prokop also feels comfortable getting out there on the dating scene and not having to hide it from teammates.

“Obviously, the lifestyle of a hockey player is tough for some people,” he said. “I’m trying to find the right person to connect with. I’m a softie, a romantic guy. I love love. I’m always on the lookout for that right person to spend the rest of my life with.”

Prokop doesn’t see the label of being the first openly gay player under NHL contract as a weight. It’s more of a responsibility. He has a platform and wants to use it. He’s realistic, “dreaming about winning the community service award more than the Norris Trophy.”

Making the AHL jump or someday the NHL jump won’t define him.

“One of my main goals when I came out is that if I could have an impact on one person outside of my family and friends in my lifetime, I’ve done my job,” he said. “I think I’ve done that and more. And I want to continue to do that.”

[vintageshanny]

Waiting for Love - Part Seven

Letting Go

Content: December 1970-February 1971, infidelity, smut, fluff, 18+

Catch up here: Waiting for Love series

Early December 1970

“So you’re telling me Elvis was laying here in this very bed last night?” Roxanne buried her face in the pillow and inhaled deeply. “The pillow smells good,” she said dreamily.

“Hey! He’s mine,” Vivien laughed, snatching the pillow away and clutching it to her chest. “Only I get to smell him. And taste him,” she added in a muffled whisper as she lowered her head into the pillow, feeling a little tingle at the memory of him telling her he hadn’t been in anyone else’s mouth since hers.

“You like swallowing him down?” Roxanne asked, crinkling her nose in disgust. “I always just go in the bathroom right away and spit it out when Michael does that in my mouth.”

“Spit it out?” Vivien sounded like she didn’t even know that was an option. “No, I like it. I love the look on his face when he, y’know, finishes,” she giggled. “It feels magical to make him feel so good. Don’t you ever feel that way about Michael?”

“What would be magical is if he ever felt like returning the favor,” Roxanne muttered, trying to quell the feelings of jealousy that were bubbling up. She was happy that Vivien looked so happy, she really was, especially after these last few months of uncertainty, but the look in Vivien’s eyes when she talked about Elvis made Roxanne question if she’d ever really been in love with Michael at all. “So, when do I get to meet him?” she asked, trying not to bring down Vivien’s mood.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vivien said nervously, fidgeting with the hem of her green sweater dress. “Are you going to be polite to him? And don’t tell him I told you anything about his…penis,” she said, her voice dropping to an embarrassed whisper.

“Don’t worry, hon, I won’t tell him how in love you are with his foreskin,” Roxanne teased as Vivien’s face flushed hotly. “I just figured I’d say something like, ‘When are you gonna divorce your frigid wife and marry my best friend Vivien?’”

“Ha ha, very funny!” Vivien retorted. “You are not saying that!”

“Fine,” Roxanne sighed. “I’ll just think it and send the message telepathically.”

“Okay, I’ll allow that,” Vivien giggled.

“Speaking of penises, did you guys do the deed last night?” Roxanne asked nonchalantly.

“Not the full deed,” Vivien blushed as she thought of what they had done and how intimate it felt. Too intimate to even share with Roxanne. She felt somehow protective of the way Elvis had sat in front of her and stroked his most private, sensitive area while he looked in her eyes, softly moaning. She quickly continued before Roxanne could ask any more questions, “I think I might be ready soon though. He told me that he loves me.” Roxanne’s eyes widened with surprise, and a look of concern flashed across her face. “What? You, um, think he’s just saying that to make me feel better?” Vivien whispered nervously, her stomach dropping.

“No, honey, no,” Roxanne quickly cut in. “I’m just worried about you. He’s telling you that, and I’m sure he feels that way, I mean why wouldn’t he? You’re sweet and beautiful and funny. But he disappeared on you for four months. And he is still living with his wife. And he hasn’t made any move to change that yet, right?”

Vivien could feel her stomach tightening up into knots, all her hope from the night before seeming to dissipate. “Well, what am I supposed to do?” her voice quivered. “You told me I should go for it, and now you’re saying I should just forget about him? I can’t do that.”

“No, Vivien, I don’t know what I’m saying. I just want you to be careful.”

“How do you be careful falling in love?” Vivien asked, brushing a tear off her cheek. “You either love someone or you don’t, right? You have to let go of the doubts. You can’t love someone halfway.”

“Maybe you’re right, Viv,” Roxanne gave her hand a little squeeze. “Just follow your heart and see if it was meant to be. Just know I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

Vivien nodded just as they heard pounding on the door. Vivien jumped up and ran to the living room, wondering whether it was possible that he’d come back so soon. “Elvis! You’re back!” she exclaimed, her spirits immediately lifted into the clouds.

“Of course I’m back, baby,” he said, wrapping her in a big hug. “I didn’t like havin’ ta sneak out earlier, but I didn’t wanna wake ya, and I had some things ta take care of. I had ta come back though cuz I just got some big news and you’re the first person I wanted ta tell.” Elvis was almost breathless with excitement.

“What is it?” Vivien asked eagerly.

“I’m gonna be gettin’ an award next month - the Jaycees Ten Most Outstanding Young Men award!” Elvis was beaming like a little boy, and Vivien had to stop herself from giggling at how cute he looked.

“Don’t you get awards all the time?” she asked, smiling.

“W-w-well sure, but this is different. This ain’t for jus’ singin’; this is because they think I’m a good person. They recognize how I try to be good and help people and ever’thing.”

Vivien’s heart melted that the award he wanted so badly was just to be recognized as a decent human being. “Well, I think that’s the perfect award for you, then. They couldn’t have picked a better man.”

“Ya wanna celebrate, baby?” Elvis whispered as he leaned down and nibbled on her ear.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Roxanne asked, wandering out of the bedroom at that exact moment.

Vivien blushed as she pulled away from Elvis’ embrace. “Elvis, this is my best friend Roxanne. Roxanne, Elvis.”

“Oh, the famous Roxanne,” Elvis exclaimed as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “I understand you’re to thank for the dress Vivien used to try to seduce me at the movies when we first met.”

Roxanne laughed. “That would be me, yes,” she said. “And apparently it worked?”

“Well, it was actually her copy of The Prophet that did me in,” Elvis said with a smile.

Roxanne’s expression turned serious. “You seem very kind and charming, Elvis, but as Vivien’s best friend, I need to warn you that you better not break her heart.”

Elvis looked surprised for a second before responding. “I’m just hoping she doesn’t break mine.”

Vivien and Elvis both smiled as Roxanne whispered, “Okay, he’s pretty good, I’ll give you that.”

*************************************************

January 12, 1971

“Honey, I need ta see ya. I’ve been practicin’ this speech for the award ceremony, and I wanna know what ya think.”

“Okay, do you want me to come over?” Vivien asked, never sure of the etiquette for asking if the man you love’s wife was home or not. It had been so difficult to not get to spend Christmas or his birthday with him, although he’d sent her over a beautiful pair of emerald earrings. She prayed that next year would be different, that she wouldn’t have to ask if she was allowed to come over.

“Yes, if you could, I really need ya.” Elvis sounded relieved.

Twenty minutes later, Vivien was walking up the driveway to Graceland. Elvis must have told the security guard to expect her because he opened the gate without a question. Before she could even knock on the door, Elvis flung it open and pulled her upstairs to the study next to his bedroom.

“I-I-I’m so glad you’re here, baby, I’m gettin’ nervous, I jus’ really wanna do a good job,” Elvis seemed agitated in the same way he’d been before filming the concert documentary last summer.

“Elvis, you’re going to do great.” Vivien looked over what he’d written. “Wow, this is really beautiful and heartfelt. I think people will love it,” she said sincerely. “I just wish I could be there with you, to support you.” She smiled wistfully.

Elvis pulled her onto his lap and stroked her back tenderly. “I wish ya could too, baby. It’s just not time yet. But remember, we’re in this together. You’re supportin’ me just by bein’ here now. I love ya, honey.” He laid his head against her chest, soaking in her warmth and love for him.

“I love you too, Elvis. It’s just hard.” Vivien swallowed harshly, trying to fight the tears that were welling up.

“Honey, ya make things hard for me all the time,” Elvis said, trying to hold back the laughter at his own dirty joke.

“Elvis! I’m being serious!” Vivien said, laughing in spite of herself.

“Me too, baby, me too, just touch it and see,” he groaned, lifting his head to kiss her as he grabbed her hand and rested it on his crotch. “See what ya do to me?” he murmured between kisses. “The way you’re always so sweet, always here when I need ya, it-it-it turns me on, baby.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to take care of you then,” Vivien whispered, sliding off his lap so she could kneel between his legs and unzip his pants. “If you’re gonna get this speech right, you need to be nice and relaxed. I have the perfect trick for that.” Elvis panted softly as she pulled out his dick and set to work on her mission to relax him, her tongue caring for every part of him.

*************************************************

February 2, 1971

“Hey, princess! Did ya like Daddy’s show last night?” Elvis scooped Lisa into a big hug as she came charging into his bedroom suite at the hotel.

“Yes! Elvis sing so good and dance funny,” Lisa giggled.

“Not Elvis, baby, call me Daddy,” Elvis laughed as he tickled her tummy.

“Okay Elvis!” Lisa tried to tickle him back with her little fingers.

“I’m glad ya enjoyed your birthday, my yittle Yisa.” Elvis blew a big raspberry kiss on her cheek. “You’re gonna go with Mommy, and I’ll see ya at home in jus’ a few weeks, okay?”

Priscilla cleared her throat where she’d been hovering in the doorway. “Should I, I mean am I supposed to come back for closing night?”

“Uh, n-n-no, ya ain’t gotta come back, that’s alright,” Elvis responded as he pulled her in for a hug, partly just to avoid making eye contact.

“Oh, okay,” Priscilla sounded surprised but almost relieved. There was a certain freedom in accepting that things were coming to an end, in letting go.

As soon as they’d left, Elvis went to the phone and lifted the receiver, his heart beating with excitement as his long fingers dragged the rotary dial around. “Baby? I need ya out here with me. Don’t worry ‘bout packin’ anything. I’ma take good care of ya, honey. How soon can ya leave?”

*************************************************

One week later

Vivien sat nervously on the edge of the bed in Elvis’ giant hotel suite, eyeing the dress he’d laid out for her to wear. She hadn’t actually gotten to see him yet, and since it had been almost a month, she felt nervous, hoping he would be as excited as she was to be together again. Joe had picked her up at the airport in his usual gruff manner, although he had kept his judgments to himself this time. Elvis must have given him a piece of his mind.

True to his word, Elvis had provided everything she might need - a whole rack of sparkly dresses was hanging in the closet, with matching shoes and even a handbag. She would have been worried they were Priscilla’s, but they all still had the tags on from some swanky boutique. One dress was draped across the bed with a note on top of it.

Sweetheart, wear this tonight. I want everyone to be green with envy that you belong to me. -EP

After wiggling into the dress, Vivien examined herself in the full-length mirror. The dress was emerald green with little rhinestones sewn in that sparkled in the light. The fringe on the skirt swished when she walked, and the dramatic halter top V-neckline was so deep and tight that she thought she might pop out of the fabric if she moved the wrong way. It was certainly the most daring thing she’d ever worn, even more than the dresses Roxanne lent her.

As she studied herself, the conversation she’d overheard at work replayed itself in her mind. She thought her boss had seemed sympathetic when she told him she needed two weeks off for a family emergency. She felt bad about the fib, but she could hardly tell him the truth. Later, as she walked by the lounge, she’d heard his voice drifting out into the hallway as he talked to one of the other lawyers. “A family emergency, right! I heard rumors she’s been whoring herself out to Elvis Presley, if you can believe that. I always thought she was a good girl, but you never can tell these days…”

As they had that day, tears started stinging her eyes. Vivien tried to push all that out of her mind. Elvis wanted her here with him, and nothing was going to ruin that for her. She slipped on a pair of strappy gold sandals and headed toward the door.

After Joe dropped her off at her own booth toward the front of the showroom, he leaned in and smirked. “I’ll get ya during the last song so we can get back to the suite safely. We wouldn’t want ya gettin’ lost in the shuffle of all the women.” Vivien just nodded, tight-lipped, and rolled her eyes as he walked away. Jealousy did not become him.

Vivien was in a state of euphoria as Joe led her back to the suite after the show. There were really no words that could explain the magic of seeing Elvis up on that stage, sharing his gift with the world. Vivien felt like she’d been under a spell watching him, a spell that might never be broken. She waited anxiously for him to arrive, ignoring the glares and curious looks from Joe and the handful of other people who were waiting for the man of the hour. Her heart skipped a beat when Elvis burst through the door with some of his entourage. He looked absolutely stunning, still glistening with sweat. Beauty and sexiness radiated off of him. Vivien smiled as she noticed how the green on his jumpsuit perfectly matched her dress. Elvis caught sight of her and his face lit up as he gathered her into a big hug and planted a kiss right on her lips.

“Y’all can go, I’m tired tonight,” Elvis announced to his crew as he turned back to Vivien with a wink. Everyone cleared out with a slight air of disappointment.

“Are you tired, baby?” Vivien asked with concern, brushing a sweaty lock of hair off Elvis’ forehead. “Did you want to lie down?”

“Naw, honey,” Elvis said with a sly grin. “I jus’ wanted ya all ta myself. I missed ya so much.” He leaned in and caught her lips with his, pushing his tongue gently into her mouth. Vivien softly moaned and Elvis pulled back with a blissful little smile on his face. His smile widened as he looked down. “Y’know the way ya fill this dress out honey, reminds me of our first little pool party where ya decided to come right outta your top and seduce me with your womanly wiles.”

Vivien tilted her head back and laughed. “Oh, it was me doing the seducing? Not you giving me a swimsuit that was two sizes too small?”

“Honey, all I know is that I was tryin’ ta have serious discussions with ya, and your eyes kept wanderin’ all over me,” Elvis teased. “See? You’re even doin’ it now.”

Vivien blushed as she realized her eyes were indeed taking in every part of him. He had removed his heavy gold belt, and every contour of his body now seemed visible through the tight black and green jumpsuit. She put her hand on his chest and then let it trail gently down over his lean stomach until it rested softly on the bulge below his waist. “Can you really blame me when you look this sexy?” she whispered. “I want you so badly.”

Elvis’ eyes sparkled as he responded, “You’re looking quite sexy yourself, baby.” He deftly reached behind her neck and untied the halter straps of the dress, letting the fabric fall down to Vivien’s waist, her soft breasts on full display, her hardened nipples showing just how aroused he made her. Elvis cupped her breasts with his warm hands and leaned down to kiss and lick each nipple.

“Elvis,” Vivien moaned softly.

“Yes, baby?” he murmured, rolling the rest of the dress down and helping her step out of it.

“I’m, I’m ready,” she whispered. “I’m ready to give you every part of me. I want to belong to you completely.”

Elvis stood straight up and looked at her with surprise. “A-a-are ya sure, honey? I want ya ta really be sure.”

Vivien nodded and pulled him close, her naked body trembling in his arms. “I’m nervous, but I’m sure,” she said softly, reaching to help him peel off his jumpsuit, still damp with sweat. Elvis looked at Vivien shyly as he stood before her in just his briefs. “You look more nervous than I do,” she teased as she pulled his underwear down his legs and took in the beautiful sight of his bare body.

“I-I-I jus’ wanna make sure it’s perfect for ya honey,” he said, blushing a little bit at the pleasure she took in looking at him. “You’ve waited a long time, so I want it to be special.”

Vivien smiled at his sweet thoughtfulness. “It will be perfect and special because it’s with you. I’ve been waiting for love, and now I found it.”

Elvis helped her onto the bed and laid himself on top of her, gently kissing her lips before he reached down to guide himself in. He rubbed his hard dick against Vivien’s clit, her arousal growing as she felt his silky soft skin right against her most sensitive spot. “Ya sure you’re ready baby? It might hurt a little at first, but I’ll be so gentle. I’ll take care of ya honey, okay? You just gotta relax and let go.”

Vivien nodded and kissed his soft lips. “I’m ready to let go, Elvis. I’m ready to give you everything.” She could feel his tip start to enter inside of her, her body opening up to accept all of him.

Tag List: @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @pebbles403 @deniseinmn @everythingelvispresley @little-laamb @annapresley8 @leapresley @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @atleastpleasetelephone @gatheraheart @richardslady121 @helen06dreamer @arg-xoxo

[cherrryxx]

I think your writing style si wonderful! If you're willing, I'd like yo request somethingfirm Smoker from One Piece, anything would be nice! Even if You don't write about it, I appreciate You reading My request. And keep writing, You do it amazing!

I'm writing this with Google Translate, so please excuse any translation errors.

Thank you so much! I personally love smoker so this request is something I’d love to write 🩷

How it Begins

SMOKER X M!READER HCS

Warnings: marine reader, m!reader, Smoker is in de nile, reader is a little dumb but cocky at the same time, relationship headcannons, sexuality headcannons

- Definitely took this man forever to even admit his feelings

- Before you officially got together, it was obvious to almost everyone (except himself) that he had feelings for you

- if you pointed out his soft spot for you it was rewarded with an extra week of chores and a “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about kid.”

- Which has landed you with a total of two months of excess chores at some point, mostly because you kept being insistent on it:

“Admit it, you like me captain!” You jeer, leaning back in your chair across from Smoker.

“F’ ya don’t shut up I’m giving you a month of extra work.” He growled, gripping his drink. But you got a little cocky, grinning when you noticed how his face was slightly tinted pink.

“Sureee,” you cackle, “That’s why you freaked out last week when I had to go to the infirmary for a *broken leg*.” You raise an eyebrow, “Which wasn’t even broken, just hurt like hell. Wasn’t even bleeding and you acted all like I was dyin’”

Smoker slammed his drink down on the table, earning a surprised look from nearby marines. “That was only because you act all dramatic, ya idiot. How was I supposed to know you weren’t dyin when you howled like you’ve been stabbed!” He retorted, but when he saw your unconvinced face he huffed.

“Get out of my face. You have an extra month of mopping the deck for being a nuisance.”

When you argued he added another week, which turned into another whole month as you continued to protest.

- Smoker did actually admit his feelings once he thought it was his last chance

- AKA you were both on the battlefield and he thought you were going to die. But once you recovered in the hospital and reminded him of his confession, he told you (unseriously) that he wished you stayed in the coma

- needless to say after a lonnnnggggg discussion about feelings, and a minor talk about the fact that Smoker hasn’t had romantic feelings for a man before:

- After you and Smoker grew closer he was comfortable enough to reveal that he felt that he was simply unlabeled or demiromantic.

“I guess, I don’t know. I just like someone, not in specific ways, I feel like it’s just a click.” He said, sitting on the edge of his bed as he spoke to you.

You sigh and sit next to him, “I don’t know why you’re all worked up about this. You don’t owe me an answer, or anything about that.” You assure him.

- After some time the two of you became more physically affectionate, to the notice of other marines

- But, if any of them were to even attempt say anything he’d give them a glare sharp enough to cut up any words they might have to say

- He was more loving with you behind closed doors, once work was done for the day and he could have you to himself in your (now shared) bunk.

- Smoker loved when he could wrap his arms around you with no one else to see

[honeyedmiller]

Pout | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: slight fluff, literally just dirty smut, swearing, no outbreak, au where Joel never had any kids, no use of y/n, barely any plot. 18+. minors, dni.

word count: 3.5k

synopsis: Joel’s noticed you’ve been working a little too hard, and he misses you, so he decides to use his all-consuming charm to coax you to relax… in more ways than one.

not revised. sorry if there's any mistakes.

-

You’d been up to your neck in work lately, and it was driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your boss thought that you could do the job of five people all at once, which was ironic, because you were getting paid only the salary for one. Your boss was a dick, to say the least. He was a misogynistic wannabe macho man who tried to reign power over any of his employees, especially you.

He saw you as a threat for some reason, and you’re ninety-nine percent sure that reason has to’ve been because your boyfriend owned Austin’s largest and most successful contracting company.

You didn’t talk about your relationship openly with your coworkers, but they all knew who you were with.

Speaking of which, a sadness lured over his heart when he saw you typing away at your laptop, the worry prominent in your brow line.

He hadn’t had the chance to properly see you the past week, because you were so caught up in work and he’d been so busy with multiple construction sites and overseeing new projects soon to take over Austin.

His bare feet padded on the floor as he made his way to you with a bowl of fruit he’d cut up for you to snack on. You were sitting at the edge of the plush couch in your shared living room, gnawing on your bottom lip as you concentrated on the files that needed to be turned in in an hour. You were almost done, thank the heavens.

You were working from home today, which was a relief because you were so tired of the nasty stare your boss gave you, and the condescending comments he threw your way.

Joel set down the bowl of fruit next to your laptop, which broke your gaze from the bright screen for a moment. You smiled up at him, grateful for the tasty snack.

“Thank you, baby.” You were gracious to the loving man, popping a piece of juicy pineapple in your mouth.

Joel didn’t reply, but instead, climbed onto the couch and maneuvered himself so he could sit behind you, his legs bracketing yours. He pulled your back against his chest to help you relax, which you were thankful for.

You hasn’t realized how tense you were until then. As if Joel could read your mind, his hands immediately moved to your knotted shoulders, rubbing them deeply. It drew a groan from your mouth as your head lolled to the side.

“Sweetheart,” Joel whispered into your ear, “You work too hard. I told you you didn’t need to work. You know my successful business can easily take care of the both of us.” He’d brought that point up from time-and-time again, to which you always protested against. You didn’t want to take advantage of his money and success.

You wanted to contribute into your life with him, not just rely on him for everything. He was more than willing to provide for you, which you were eternally grateful for, but doing so would’ve felt like you were taking advantage of him (though he knew that wouldn’t be the case).

“I know, I know. I don’t want to not contribute, though. I’d feel so guilty.” You bit your lip as his lips met the base of your neck. You were wearing a halter top, so he had easy access to your soft skin.

“And I told you that you didn’t need to feel guilty, baby. I got you. Always.” He kissed your shoulder this time, soft and tender.

“I love you, J.” Was all you could whisper to him. He was eventually probably going to win this ongoing little argument, mainly because this job was costing you your mental health. It was time to find a new one.

“I love you, darlin’.” He whispered, kissing you again on your soft flesh before his hands started to roam up and down your sides.

“I have to get this done.” You let out a breathy laugh, slowly getting turned on by his attention from his lips and hands.

“Mm.” Joel didn’t seem to give a damn, as he just wanted to help you relax. He’d missed you so much and was so touch deprived from his woman. He wanted to make you feel good.

His hands moved down to your thighs, skin bare there as well since you were wearing lounge shorts. His fingers traces little patterns into your skin as his chin rested on your shoulder so he could watch you work.

Slowly, his hands started to move up to the apex of your thighs with feather light traces. Your arousal was prominent at this point, but you had to get this done.

His fingers deftly moved up your front, caressing your torso before they found a place on your breasts. He began to massage you there, coaxing a small groan from you.

“I’m almost done with this, J. Let- let me fin-ish.” You were a goner when he started to tug at both of your sensitive peaks, rolling them between his fingers as his lips found home on your neck again.

“Mmm I bet you’re already soaked for me, baby.” He teased, a cockiness in his tone that you couldn’t miss.

Fuck. You had to get this done.

Your breathing became noticeably ragged, each kiss on your neck and soft pull of your sensitive peaks becoming too much. It was too hard to focus at this point, but you powered through.

His hands removed themselves from your breasts and moved back down, one resting firmly on your hip and the other teasingly tracing the outline of your shorts.

He heard no protest from you, so he easily slipped his large hand into the front of your shorts, over the fabric of your lacy underwear.

“Shit, sweetheart, you are soaked for me.” He confirmed as his fingers languidly traced over your clothed core, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Joel, please, let me finish.” Your implication was toward the work in front of you on your laptop, but you could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied to you.

“Gladly, baby.” His fingers moved your panties to the side, sliding his middle finger up and down your slit.

You whine in protest, throwing your head back on his shoulder.

“That’s it. Just relax.” His voice was like velvet in your ear. You wanted to fight so hard against his wishes just so you could get your work done.

That was impossible, though, when he entered his long middle finger into you slowly.

“Fuck,” You pant, “You’re so mean.” You whine, and he knew you had no malicious intent behind your words. It was more ‘playful’ banter, if you will.

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed as he slid another finger in, curling them up into you. You were nearly a writhing mess in front of him with just two fingers. You hated how weak you were for his touch sometimes.

You continued typing the last couple of sentences for the files you needed to submit, and you emailed them to your douchebag of a boss before forcefully shutting the laptop closed. You leaned back into Joel, finally getting to not only enjoy the pleasure he was reigning on you, but his presence in general.

You both had been so busy this past week that it was mostly just eating dinner alone, late night work duties, and going to sleep without him by your side. He was even out of the door some mornings before you even woke up. You knew his schedule was jam-packed now, especially with all of the new and upcoming projects. You understood and weren’t mad one bit. You just missed him.

He pulls his fingers out of you, making you miss the loss of contact already. You turned your head to look at him as he smiled at you cheekily.

“I missed you so much.” You whisper, kissing him softly.

“I missed you too, baby. More than you know.” His hands rest at your hips once more, rubbing small circles into your soft flesh.

“I think I have an inkling,” You giggle softly, turning around to face him. You straddled him easily, draping your arms around the back of his neck.

“You work so hard.” You whisper to him, planting a soft kiss on his neck before you nuzzle your face comfortably in that said spot.

“So do you, my love. But I do it so I can provide for you and any future kids we might have.” He chuckles, and your head immediately snaps up. Your eyes search his in shock; he’d never brought up the subject of kids too often, let alone mention having a potential family.

“You want to have a family with me?” Your voice replicates the look on your face, and he stills his movements as his expression turns serious.

“‘Course I do, darlin’. Is that something you want?” He continues to rub your thighs after his nonchalant confession.

You nod your head, a small smile on your lips. “It is. Just thought I’d be married while discussing this subject, though.” You laugh, bringing your hands down to rest on Joel’s broad chest.

“Oh, don’t worry baby. That’s in the works too.” Joel’s shit-eating grin was enough to make you scoff and hit his chest lightly.

“Don’t fuck with me like that, Joel.” You pout, not knowing if he was seriously considering marriage with you or not. You’d only been together for a little over a year, but you knew he was it for you.

“Don’t pout, baby. You know what that does to me.” He groans, his head lolling back. With his neck so exposed to you, you took the opportunity to litter his warm flesh with soft, wet kisses. Joel’s gruff hands move up to grip your hips tightly, jutting them forward.

You let out a gasp of surprise when your body is flush against his at the sudden movement, and his face is present before yours once more.

“What exactly does it do to you, Joel?”

You can feel his impending erection in his joggers. You bite your lip and bat your lashes at him, feeding him the look of innocence when he knew that was far from the case. You were a minx, but he loved it.

“You know damn well, baby.” His hands find home on your waist, rubbing up and down the slightest bit.

“Mm, I think I need a reminder.” Your grin is devilish as you curl your fingers into his soft, dark brown hair. His lips part as he stares at you daringly, knowing in less than five minutes you’d probably be reciting his name like a prayer.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby.” His teasing tone is enough for your core to clench deliciously.

“Isn’t that the whole point?” You start, grinding your hips to his, “To finish?” You’re fighting off a smirk as he groans, your hips pushing down on him to create friction.

“That it is, darlin’.” And before you could even protest, he grabs your thighs and lifts you up with him, carrying you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

He sets you down on the plush bed, wasting no time in discarding you of your halter top and shorts. He was pleased to not have to take off a bra from you, mainly because his fingers tended to fumble in neediness and anticipation every time it came down to it. You thought it was adorable.

His calloused hands immediately moved to grab at the soft flesh of your chest once more. You reached down for the waistband of his joggers and flipped yourselves over, so you were now on top. You tugged his joggers down with his boxers, his erection free and in full sight.

You lowered yourself so you rested between his legs, nails slightly scratching his tan, thick thighs as your mouth was nearly met with the pink tip of his flesh.

You looked up at your lover adoringly before giving his thigh a kiss followed by his tip before swirling your tongue around the top, salty taste of pre-cum evident.

Your soft tongue and plush lips worked at him, taking your time and savoring the silky flesh in your mouth. You eventually moved your head down, not giving a fuck in the world how sloppy it was. Though you were going slower still, the sounds you emitted from this were so unholy. So fucking dirty. It turned you on even more.

The one hand that wasn’t taking care of his balls moved down between your legs, and you began to tease yourself by moving one finger through your slick folds.

“Jesu— fuck, woman, you’re going to be the death of me. Such a pretty fuckin’ girl takin’ care of me like that. Look at you, touching yourself to gettin’ me off.” Joel’s voice was strained, but his words were so hot that it made you whine against his cock. The vibration from your throat made him twitch in your mouth.

He was cursing in pleasure, your name thrown in the mix of sighs and profanities coming from his mouth. You went down even further on him, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Hot tears sprung to your eyes as you gagged.

“Mm, that’s it. Takin’ me in your mouth so fuckin’ well, darlin’. Gonna have me confessin’ all my sins, I swear.” His hand found the back of your head, pushing it up and down in a rhythmic pace. You peered up at him through your lashes, moaning at the sight of him watching you. He was trying his damndest to keep his eyes open so he could see you taking care of him.

Your finger circled around your clit causing you to shudder. You sped up the pace around your swollen nerves, knowing you were close soon. Your attention never wavered from Joel even as you were pleasing yourself. You kept at this for a few minutes before Joel's hips started to stutter.

"Fuck, baby-" Joel couldn't even finish his sentence before you felt him tense up and release into your mouth seconds later, groaning your name loudly. His fingers were threaded into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he rode out his orgasm.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek at the intensity of choking on him, but you didn't dare look away from him as you swallowed everything he gave you. You swiped the pad of your thumb across your bottom lip with a smirk.

"Goddamn minx," He huffed, catching his breath, "Let me take care of ya, darlin'. Relax."

You shifted so you were the one laying down now, and Joel knelt between your legs. He wasted no time moving himself down so his face was met with your slick heat.

"So fuckin' pretty. All for me." He rasped, moving his middle finger to coat itself with your slickness. He attached his lips to your aching clit, sucking on it in a perpetual manner as he moved his middle finger down to your aching core. He teased your entrance with the tip of his finger before fully plunging it into you, adding his index finger to the arousing mix.

Joel always made a note of it to eat you out like he was a starved man who's last meal was you. His skillful tongue and long, thick fingers always had you saying his name like a prayer, and he loved every single second of it.

"Fuck, Joel, right there. Fuck fuck fuck!" Joel's cocky chuckle left him humming against you, knowing you weren't going to last much longer like this. Your hips were rolling against his face and fingers, and the way his tongue was easily gliding into your folds as his strong nose bumped against your clit had you nearly seeing stars. The hot tension in your core was building up quickly, and Joel was waiting for the snap.

Not even a minute later, you were coming violently undone against his tongue as he lapped away at you, helping you ride out your intense orgasm.

"Mm, babygirl, you taste so goddamn good." Joel moaned against you and then moved up, hovering over you again.

The whole bottom half of his face was coated in your arousal, and fuck was it a sight to see.

Joel moved one hand up to your face to cradle your cheek, dragging it down so the pad of his thumb tugged at your bottom lip.

"Open." He demanded, his voice intense and full of eroticism.

You immediately comply, opening your mouth while resting your tongue just before your bottom lip began. Joel smirked at you devilishly as he spit directly into your mouth. You immediately tasted yourself, and you looked up at him in astonishment.

"You kinky bastard." You put a hand on his chest, nails lightly scratching his skin as you trailed your hand down his torso. You gently grabbed his cock, which was more than ready for you once again, and Joel had to stifle a groan.

"Don't act like you don't fuckin' love it, baby." He moaned as he moved down to kiss you with such fervor, your lungs started to burn for air.

You lined him up with your still-slick entrance, and he pushed into you. You both moaned simultaneously into each other's mouths as Joel stretched you in the most perfect, pleasing way. No one's ever fucked you like he has, and god were you putty in his hands every single time.

His hips snapped against yours in a rapid, rhythmic matter, which elicited the most erotic sounds from your throat. You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels of your feet digging into the bottom of his back.

"Fuck, baby, I love you." His voice was strained and the southern drawl he had was ever so present.

"I-I-fuck- love you too, J-Joel." You could barely even think coherently as he was hitting that sweet spot inside you with every single thrust.

Joel fucking you roughly was exactly what you needed to release all the tension. You always looked forward to what came after as well, which was Joel being nothing but a sweetheart and giving you the best aftercare possible.

"You're so beautiful, babygirl. So beautiful, and all mine. I'm so lucky." Joel praised you, kissing you tenderly on your neck before moving his mouth to your breasts as he took his time adorning each of them.

Your heart melted at his words, falling even more in love with him.

"Joel, I'm close." Your voice is a desperate whisper, and he moved his hand down to rub your already overstimulated clit.

"Me too, baby, me too. C'mon. Give it to me." He coaxes, and the hot sensation coils inside you once more as you claw at his back in complete desperation. Instantaneously, pleasure washed over you once more as you moaned his name loudly, so fucking thankful that his windows were pretty soundproof.

Not that he'd give a fuck, but you'd think Mrs. Adler would tear you both a new one if she even heard the nasty things going on in Joel Miller's bedroom.

"Fuck, Joel, o-oh my god." Your hips ground against his, riding out your orgasm once more.

"Fuck, doll, where do you want me?" He asks as his hips lose their steady rhythm, stuttering once more. Always the telltale that he was about to find release himself.

"In me. Please." Your breathless reply drew a whimper from him as he found his release once more, only this time, you felt it in your core.

He collapsed on top of you, wrapping his strong arms around you as he pulled you close. He kissed the top of your head a couple of times before slowly pulling out of you.

You traced small patterns on his heaving chest and kissed him there once before looking up at him. You admired his handsome features while his eyes were closed, because you knew he'd give you shit for staring at him if he had his eyes open.

"You're starin' again." Joel huffed, opening his eyes to look down at you. Your eyes twinkled in delight as a lazy smile spread across your lips. He just knew you too damn well.

"I can't help it, baby, you're just so handsome." You move your hand up to brush his waves off of his forehead, which were coated in sweat.

He chuckled and shook his head as he moved to stand up, and you pouted at him once more.

"You and that damn pout, doll. You're going to be the death of me." He leaned down to kiss you once more before going into the bathroom to draw a bath and grab wet a washcloth to bring it back out so he could clean you up.

"That's never my intention, Mr. Miller. I only use it to get my way." You tease him, causing him to chuckle.

He helps you up gently, "What am I going to do with you?"

You shrug. "Help me relax some more, yeah?" You kiss him once and he leads you to the bathroom, settling behind you as you both get into the tub.

"Gladly."

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

My thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie

I don’t know if I liked it as much as the original films (maybe Mockingjay 1 & 2 as they are pretty emotionally draining), but I still enjoyed it.

I think where it fell a little flat for me is 1. The beginning was a bit slow (tbh I only really started getting interested when Lucy Gray stuck that snake down that girl’s dress & even then I enjoyed the story more when the setting changed from the Capitol to the district) 2. I knew Snow would survive 3. I’d already been spoiled online for a lot of stuff that happens & 4. while I know the director did his best to make Snow as “likeable” as he could for as long as possible, even before he started getting “a little too comfortable” with killing & snitching I didn’t find him as sympathetic as Katniss or Peeta (but that is probably again down to the fact that I know what he goes onto do & there’s no real way around that), this made engaging with him difficult for me.

The world is fascinating. Getting to see all the new locations we never had access to before as well as old locations now in a totally different light (for example district 12 which, while still clearly suffering, seemed like such a bustling industrial town compared to how it is in Katniss’s time). It might have a much more retro aesthetic but there's also just a more vibrant, natural, wild & lawless atmosphere to this movie compared to the others in the franchise. The whole scope of the film just felt more cinematic then I remember the others being yet also weirdly intimate. Maybe because it was one contained story & we knew the main character’s fate from the start. I also loved the title cards signifying the start of each section of the story like from the books & wished they'd done something similar for the other films. It just added a certain flair to the whole thing. Almost gave it the vibe of a tragic play.

The costuming was great. The bright red of the academy uniforms.  Flickerman’s snazzy suits. Snow’s dapper black & white outfit. Both peace keeper uniforms (despite one of them giving very ‘1930’s Germany’ vibes) looked great. Grandma might have been a bigot, but at least she was well dressed. Everything Dr Gaul wore (except the top that looked like a used tampon, lol) was exquisite. The main ladies of fashion, Tigris & Lucy Gray slayed. Our Future Capitol stylist looked like some regal yet exotic bird & Miss Survivor was giving Bohemian, country girl realness the entire time she was on screen. Even the extras were serving (like that random couple Snow walked past on his way to the reaping ceremony).

The music was amazing. Every song that played was fantastic (shout out to Olivia for her end credit contribution). The lyrics & instrumentation were beautiful & my god does Rachel Zegler have pipes! Anyone who says the singing scenes are cringy is just stupid like I’m sorry you can’t appreciate art. Also, the words ‘ballad’ & ‘songbirds’ are literally in the title. Plus, Lucy Gray is from the poorest district, so what exactly do those people want her to do in her free time? She can’t exactly hop on an X-box for a few hours. Not too mention that (as the offspring of someone who’s musically inclined) I can tell you, it’s completely realistic for a musician to use their craft to help them deal with trauma & Lucy Gray clearly had more than her fair share of that.

The Grandma'am helped to paint a sadly very realistic background for Snow. As who among us hasn’t met at least one delusional old person who thinks that their/their group’s suffering (regardless of the severity of it or the reason behind their former/newer status in society) means that no one else are deserving of even the tiniest shred of humanity & there are some people who are unlucky enough to not only be related to these people but be raised by them.

Hunter schafer as Tigris is clearly the superior Snow when it comes to things like empathy & overall mental stability but I do kind of wish they’d been more for her to do. Credit where credit is due though her & Tom did actually look like they could be related & I did buy their familial bond (which makes her appearance in Mockingjay so much sadder in hindsight).

Peter Dinklage as Casca Highbottom was a bit of a mix for me just due to his purpose as a character & the limit of film as a form of media. Like sure the audience know that Snow’s going to become an irredeemable monster in the end but without a window into his mind it really does just seem like the Dean is just out to get him & even when we find out why it seems kind of unfair. Like sure his dad sucked but haven’t the Games shown that blaming children for violence caused by others is unjust (& like ok he hates Coriolanus & probably the grandma but Tigris hadn’t done anything to deserve living in poverty, as she can’t control who she’s related to)? Plus, it felt like he could have at least tried taking Snow under his wing at some point to try to hinder Dr Gual’s influence. Saying all of that, though, Peter Dinklage is great at playing an addict with depression & the idea that some drunken rambling could lead to such long-lasting suffering is terrifying. Also its pretty realistic that living with that kind of guilt & in such a cruel environment for that long would make most people jaded & bitter, even if they did have good intentions.

Omg we finally get a Mayor family on screen & they’re assholes! Madge would be so disappointed 😭. It was interesting to see how harsh & overall “boot licky” the mayor & his family seemed compared to decades later, which makes sense as the war wasn’t that long ago for them so the dad probably felt more incentive to align himself with the Capitol as well as not feeling very connected to the district people as 12’s decline probably didn’t fully set in until they really started running low on coal & Snow became president (oh I just know he wanted to blow that district off the map 😆). I also wouldn’t put it past Billy to come up with some sob story of how he really does love Mayfair but wicked Lucy Gray is somehow preventing them from being together. Still no excuse to try to send her to her death twice in one week, though. Definitely not a girl’s girl.

Ok, so a liar. Cheat. Drunk & someone who hits women. Is there anything good about Billy Taupe? Also, trying to get your ex back, while your current girlfriend is literally standing right next to you? Dude, have some god damn back bone! You made a choice, now stick to it. Also, fumbling Lucy Gray, for a girl like that? What’s it like having no brains or taste? Well, too bad, coz you’re stuck with her forever now, lol.

Viola Davies, the actress that you are. What else is there to say? Dr Gaul is almost comic book levels of insane. Like she is how the Right see women in STEM, on crack! I don’t know what she did to get into character, but whatever it was, it worked.

Jason Schwartzman as Lucretius Flickerman is a very interesting addition to the story despite playing such a small & seemingly insignificant role. He is strange in how unthreatening he is while also extremely blasé about the abhorrent violence he witnesses that it’s as funny as it is disturbing. Making him come across as  more human yet harsher than his son, who at least pretends to care about the tributes (in a very Capitol way, obviously but still). There’s also a polish & confidence to Tucci’s performance that I think Schwartzman did a great job of avoiding copying (despite knowing what audiences were probably expecting) because not only are their characters in entirely different stages of their careers but the whole ethos of the Hunger Games is different in Snow’s youth than it is in Katniss’s. Caesar is a well established presenter & during his time, the games have always been a success (minus the year with the tundra) that the entire Capitol is invested in & seemingly in support of. On the other hand Lucretius had the unique task of not only coming into a job like this with zero experience (I mean imagine going from announcing the weather to presenting the fucking hunger games) but also there were no vibes to try to emulate let alone guidelines to follow because he truly was the first person to do this. On top of that, the "event" his presenting has been panned for years as both boring & unethical. Schwartzman brought a slightly awkward, experimental, yet try hard vibe (like a comedian who's desperate to get a laugh) that I think worked wonderfully for the character.

Tom Blyth's performance was great & he was visually perfect for a young Snow (the power of a good wig! Who knew lol). Even having the cool, analytical stare of Donald Sutherland, down pat. While his appearance was very Eminem during his peacekeeping days, his realisation in the cabin and subsequent breakdown in the woods were crazy. There was so much tension between him & Rachel in that scene that for a second, it literally felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could almost hear the record scratch for both of them, & all that building paranoia finally coming to a sudden crescendo in the way that it did? Pure cinema!

Josh Rivera, as Sejanus, was honestly a mix for me. Obviously, I agree with his morals, but his way of going about it did seem a little dumb. However I do think it’s pretty realistic that a teenager, especially a rich one, would be rather naive. Also I’ve heard that he’s smarter in the book & I think at times my frustration with him is more just down to the fact that I’m seeing him from Snow’s point of view. Meaning scenes that would be portrayed as noble in any other film instead come across as almost painfully inconvenient because the focus is always on how they affect Snow rather than the actual victims of the situation. Lastly, sorry, Snowjanus shippers, I just don’t see it (especially on Snow’s end), but whatever floats your boat.

Rachel Zegler played Lucy Gray with the perfect mix of natural charm & emotional vulnerability with clear pride in her culture & a refusal to let the world around her change who she is. Yet there was also an air of mystery & a subtle resilience to her that makes her potentially surviving out in the woods for years without being detected actually believable (though I don’t buy the theory that she went on to become president Coin). Definitely the highlight of the movie for me.

PS. I'd love to know what you think of my review in the comments/tags & am open to criticism (as long as it's respectful) just remember that I'm only talking about the movie so please don't reference anything spersific to the book.

[infiniteeight8]

Would love to see more of the 'can't let him find out' Alpha/Omega IronStrange series!

Edit: The first two stories can be found here.

-

Tony can’t stop thinking about Stephen.

The omega is usually so poised, so self-possessed. Seeing him so bedraggled after his heat had been a shock. It had been more than two weeks before Stephen had shown up at another Avengers meeting, and he’d still looked just a little too thin. Tony was certain that he’d needed every minute of that time to recover.

Is it even possible for him to recover completely from a heat that bad? Wouldn’t the wear and tear accumulate over time? It’s been five months since Titan, which means that that would have only been Stephen’s second heat since viewing all those futures. Had the first one been easier? Harder? 

When he finds himself researching heat disorders, Tony knows he has to talk to Pepper.

He brings it up after dinner, when they’re sipping an evening coffee. Or, well, he starts, but all he manages is, “Pep, I’ve been…” Been what? Thinking about another omega? Technically true, but misleading. 

“Is this about all the research you’ve been doing on heat disorders?” Pepper asks.

Of course she always simplifies things for him. “Yeah,” Tony says. “I found out recently that someone I know is having really difficult heats, and he swears there’s nothing to be done, and I—” Tony cuts himself off and makes a frustrated noise. “I can’t stop thinking about it and I don’t understand why.”

“It’s normal to worry about a friend,” Pepper begins, but Tony shakes his head.

“I don’t actually know him that well. Not that he’s not a friend, but it’s not that kind of worry. I get that kind of worry.”

Pepper gives him a thoughtful look. “Did you see him? Just after his heat, I mean. Is that how  you found out how hard they are?” Tony nods. “It’s probably a compatibility thing, then.”

“Compatibility?” Tony says blankly. He knows the theory, but… “Shouldn’t our bond cancel that out?”

Pepper laughs. “Tony,” she says fondly, “our bond is about as shallow as it’s possible for a bond to get. We don’t even sleep in the same bed regularly. It’s not capable of canceling out much of anything.”

“You can’t blame me for assuming!” Tony protests. “The whole point of us getting mated was to fend off criticism! Doesn’t it need to send out, you know, ‘taken’ signals to do that?”

Pepper shakes her head. “The rings and the paperwork do that. Pheromones are weak enough outside of heat that no one really uses them for signaling. Perfume and cologne generally mask them, anyway.”

“Huh. So because I saw him right after his heat—”

“—his pheromones were strong enough to register with you,” Pepper finishes.

“Not to be crass,” Tony says carefully, “but… he smelled terrible.”

“Tony, that probably means you’re more compatible, not less,” Pepper says, fighting down a smile. “He’d just come out of a heat so traumatic that it had you looking up heat disorders. His pheromones were obviously signaling intense distress. The more compatible you are, the stronger that signal is, and the more unpleasant you’d have found it.”

“Right.” Tony makes a face. “Biology is not my strong point.”

“I promise not to tell,” Pepper teases. 

Tony turns the idea over in his head a few times. Compatibility isn’t the be-all and end-all of bonding, he knows, but there are still stories. The intensity of the sex is the stuff of pornos, but the depth of the mating bond… that’s the real fairy tale. Perfectly matched pairs came damn close to sharing emotions. To have something like that…

“If you want to pursue something with him,” Pepper says softly, “you know I’d never stand in your way.”

Tony shakes his head. “He said he wasn’t capable of bonding.”

“Don’t assume it’s that simple,” Pepper says. “Technically, you’re not capable of bonding, because you’re already mated, but mating bonds can be broken. Whatever’s going on with him, it hasn’t stopped him from producing pheromones you can react to. Besides, bonding isn’t all there is to compatibility, or to relationships. Just…” she waved a hand, “keep an open mind.”

This is a side effect of my viewing our possible futures, Stephen had said. And then there was the moment of grief Tony had seen in his eyes.

“I get the feeling that nothing about this is simple,” Tony says slowly. 

Pepper gives him a small smile. “Well. You always do find things more interesting the more complicated they are.”

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Hey :) this is a bit if a sensitive topic… but i got an idea for a request and i don’t know if you’d be willing to write it? I’ve been struggling with anorexia for a very long time and i’ve been thinking what if y/n was in the love band and she has an ed and body image issues and you know the outfit the band’s always wearing? For me personally, it’d be so triggering to wear because i know i’d feel so fat wearing it (don’t know why tbh)…Anyway, what if she hasn’t really told anyone about her struggle (maybe they saw signs but don’t know for sure) and she’d agreed to wear the outfit but then before a show she has a huge panic attack and Harry finds her crying backstage…

And also like i just want to say that there’s nothing wrong with being bigger and that "fat" is not a feeling but i just can’t help my brain 😣

Sorry for the long ask.. and I also hope you’ll feel better!!🙂

Hello friend! First off, thank you for sending this request and for trusting me and this online space to share your struggles. That can be really challenging, especially on the internet where you don't know how people will take things or react sometimes. Especially with eating disorders, there's so much guilt and shame that comes with this kind of mental illness to begin with and it can be a hard thing to admit to as well.

I will also share with you anon, that I've struggled with an ED for many years and was finally diagnosed with EDNOS in 2016. EDNOS stands for eating disorder not otherwise specified and you can receive that diagnosis for many reasons. I won't elaborate on my case in this post (I don't mind talking about it anymore so if ppl have questions you can ask), but anyway.... all this to say that I totally understand your struggle. And lately, I've been struggling to not fall back into those harmful ways after some comments my mom made a few weeks ago. It's been a tough few weeks for me for many reasons. But anyway, thank you so much again, for sending this request. Writing this is definitely going to be cathartic and therapeutic for me as well and I hope that it is for you too and anyone who struggles this way.

LAST THING! If you or anyone you know struggles with an eating disorder or shows concerning disordered eating patterns, please consider getting help. Some resources are linked HERE including helpline contact info.

And of course, the content below can be triggering for people who struggle with any E.D.

This was quite literally your dream come to life. You had been asked by Harry himself to join the Love Band in Ny-Oh's place for the final leg of Love On Tour. This all seemed insane and unreal as you thought about how you'd just met him around 2018. You'd been brought in as a session musician for Harry's last 2 albums and started a nice little friendship with him. But you didn't know that he considered you enough of a friend to ask you to join his live ensemble. Sure, you talked regularly enough and had graduated into hugs over fist bumps during the making of Harry's House, but still...it just seemed so insane. You were excited though, getting to see him perform every night knowing how hard he worked to make this music...it was like a full circle moment.

There'd been plenty you'd done in preparation for your travels. Including getting your measurements taken for the little love minion jumpsuits you'd be wearing every night. None of that really seemed to trigger you or your concerns over your weight and body image. You'd been doing so well, you'd been managing your eating disorder well the last few years without any major setbacks and you were proud that you were healthy enough to do this. Proud that you felt comfortable accepting this gig and knowing that you had the stamina and health to make it through the entire leg of the tour. It was huge! But none of that really seemed to matter when you got a look at your uniform hung up just a few inches away from you and felt this sudden rush of anxiety crawling through your body. Why did it look like it'd be so tight on you? The material obviously wasn't too stretchy so how was this supposed to fit on you? You weren't exactly sure what about the look of it suddenly had you feeling this way, but all you knew was that you didn't feel good about it.

The logical part of your brain reminded you that you got fitted for this - it was custom made to your measurements. And you tried to keep that in mind, but you soon realized that you had been fitted for this about four months ago. Maybe you'd gained tons of weight? Your days of obsessively weighing yourself were past you, so you had no idea if you had or hadn't. You had body dysmorphia so your mind wouldn't know the difference. And it was maddening to you that you had been feeling OK about yourself until you'd entered the little temporary changing room and saw the outfit on the hanger. Your heart started to beat a bit faster as your anxiety started to grow.

"30 minutes to show time!" you heard someone call as they walked down the corridor and then they shouted the same warning into the large dressing room a few of you shared and you just exhaled sharply and decided so just ignore this feeling and suck it up. If you didn't wear this what would you wear? You had no choice, you just had to get over it.

However, now that something about this outfit had triggered the obsessive and intrusive thoughts about your body image you started to feel uncomfortable looking at your reflection. You tried to avoid looking at yourself right now because you knew that you'd see things that weren't accurate. You tried to slow down your breathing as you turned away from the mirror in there and folded up your clothes before turning back around and looking at the outfit once again before taking it off the hanger. It felt suspenseful to undo all of the little buttons lining the seam to join the two sides together. But soon you were pulling it off the hanger and getting your legs into it and doing up the buttons, avoiding the mirror again until it was fully on so that you wouldn't freak out before you fully were dressed. Of course, you had no issues with getting it on, it felt just fine, a little loose if anything. But when you looked up the feeling of the fit didn't really matter. You had no idea if it was the cinched in waist that felt restrictive even if you had some wiggle room. Or maybe it was the way the fabric bulged a bit at your stomach and made you feel like you were carrying a lot more weight there than you realized before? But as you turned to the side to see how you looked from that angle your frown deepened as your fears rose tot he surface. It looked a little big on you and that somehow made you feel even worse because it wasn't like flattering/comfy baggy. This outfit somehow accentuated just how thin you actually were and then a new fear came into your brain: They're going to know I'm anorexic.

You felt that you did well enough to keep your eating disorder speculations at bay. People closest to you knew, but you were very private about it because like any illness, there is sometimes an element of shame involved. It wasn't something you advertised, especially as you recovered! But most people just knew you were into health and wellness, but they didn't know the dark side of it; that you struggled with obsessing over quantities and ingredients and portions because you were terrified to look bigger than you were, terrified to gain weight, terrified of feeling fat. You couldn't tell anyone why you felt that way, but you just did! And sure, you were a lot better now than you were years ago, but you had just been massively triggered that you looked sickly and that, that would arise suspicions of your health. The fans might start to say things and ask questions and if they noticed other people would too...the crew, the rest of the band...Harry...

As you stared at yourself for a bit more your eyes started to tear up and you silently fanned at your eyes to try and dissipate the tears, but your vision was only getting more and more blurry. You just needed some fresh air to calm down. You peeked out and saw that you were alone in the dressing room so you rushed out before anyone could stop you and you headed out back behind the stage. They were in the middle of changing the setup after the openers so the crew and roadies were closer to the structure helping change things out and unloading. You had the space and privacy to pace around and let your tears fall. But the audience was so loud...there would be so many people and they would look at you and see you in this outfit and just know that something was wrong with you. Obviously they would be scrutinizing you since you were the new person! And suddenly everything just built up inside of you and you started to panic.

You found a place to sit down when you felt your breathing catch in your throat. This couldn't be happening.... you were just minutes before the show! But you were hyperventilating now as your tears cascaded down your cheeks. You felt like you were going to crumble apart. This was a huge mistake... you should've said no...you weren't ready for this. There was no way you could do this. You were sat off to the side as you sobbed and tried everything you could to calm down and get through this panic attack so you didn't notice Harry's car pulling up across from you until you heard the stadium cheering loudly and when you glanced up you saw Harry wave quickly before he headed backstage. You didn't want anyone to see you like this so you stood up and went to hide behind one of the trailers, but you didn't notice that he'd seen you rush off.

********

"Y/N!" Harry called after you but you didn't seem to hear him and he frowned a bit. He could've sworn you were crying...maybe you just got really nervous or maybe it just hit you now that you were on tour. It could be exciting but nerve-racking. So he decided to just check on you and maybe give you a little pep-talk. "Hey, I'll be right in, just gonna make sure she's OK." Harry said to Tommy and Brad.

"I've got it, H. You should really go get changed. You're on in 15." Tommy advised.

"It'll be quick. I'm sure she's just a little nervous." Harry said and they sighed as he jogged off to where you'd taken off. When he rounded the corner to where the trailers were he immediately frowned when he saw you gasping for air, choking on your tears as you sobbed uncontrollably. "Y/N, oh my god." he said as he hurried over to you.

You felt mortified as he rushed up to you and reached for your hands. You started to cry harder because this was so fucked up. You felt so stupid and ridiculous for crying over an outfit, but you just felt so awful. Worse than you had in a long time and it was scary to be triggered so intensely. When he wrapped you up in a big hug you started to calm down. His voice and touch and scent helped to ground you a bit, enough to help you breathe properly.

"What's the matter?" he asked you softly as you continued crying. You cough as you tried to answer him and he gently rubbed your back to help you out a bit.

"S'fine. I'm fine." you choked out and he sighed.

"How can I help if I don't know what the issue is?" he asked you and you sighed.

"You can't help Harry, this is me. This all me and I...I don't think I can do the show." you finally said and he pulled back with a big frown as he looked at you. You couldn't bear to see his disappointment for more than a second before you looked back at the ground.

"What do you mean? Are you nervous?" he asked you as he rubbed at your arms with his ring clad hands and you sighed.

"I-it's the outfit. I can't wear this outfit. Like...I'm not...able to wear this." you said to him and he looked a bit confused.

"Is something wrong with it?"

"Yes! I...don't know w-what it is..." you gasped through your sobs, "But I just...don't like how I look or feel in it." you explained.

"Love, you look great!" he said with a small smile and that made you feel worse because it was a testament to just how insane you actually were, "And well, I'm not really sure we can change the uniform at this point-"

"Exactly, this is my issue! So I can't go up there." you cried.

"Well what's the issue you're having? Maybe there's something we can do about it right now?" he asked and you bit your lip for a moment before looking into his eyes and then just turning your gaze away from him. You couldn't bear to see his face when you said this to him.

"I...I have an eating disorder." you said softly through your tears, "And something about this outfit has triggered me into this psychotic episode. I feel...really awful physically and in my head too...and I'm trying... I'm trying to get it together but I haven't felt like this in years and just one look at me in this and everyone's gonna know something's wrong with me because I look sick!" you sobbed, "And that's why I can't do this. I'm so sorry, Harry. I just can't do the show." you blubbered and his hands slid down your arms and grabbed your hands.

"I'm so sorry." he said softly and you sighed.

"It's not your fault...how were you supposed to know that this would trigger me? I didn't even know until I was staring at the fucking thing." you shook your head as you looked up at him again and he sighed.

"I mean, yeah but like I... I noticed stuff before, like when we first met that made me wonder if...maybe you were anorexic or struggled with something like this. So I'm sorry that I never checked on you." he said and you sighed.

"Well, it't not really something I like to talk about." you explained through a sniffle, "And I've been doing really well the last couple years, I swear I'm like eating regularly and stuff. I wouldn't have agreed to do this if I wasn't well enough to do it." you said quickly, "But something happened back there and for my own wellbeing I just feel like I can't go out there like this." you explained through your tears. "Like...at first I thought I looked fat or maybe the cinching made me feel really restricted....but like I had this...moment where when I looked at myself f-from the side I just...looked like a fucking Tim Burton character...." you chuckled through your tears, "and I just...know that people will notice that I'm anorexic. And the audience is gonna see and start saying things about me... and things are just going to get worse and I'm gonna lose control again! And I don't want to lose control again. I can't lose control again." you vented through your tears and he just listened attentively with a slight frown. When he saw you were finished he squeezed your hands gently.

"I get that. And I also want you to be healthy and feel healthy and to feel good about yourself." he assured you, "You being safe and healthy and happy, that's all I want for you! But you're also a fucking brilliant musician and friend and I don't want to do this without you." he said to you and you sniffled, "I'm willing to figure something out to make sure that you feel comfortable and confident enough to perform if you want. We can get with Harry real quick and see what we can come up with." he suggested.

"The show starts in a little bit...it's fine. We can work on it tomorrow. I can perform from backstage today or even just sit this one out." you said and he scoffed through a laugh.

"I'm not gonna make you perform from backstage! We're just gonna run a bit late, that's fine." he said to you and you shook your head.

"Seriously H, I don't mind it a-"

"Seriously, Y/N." He cut you off, "I don't want to hide any member of my team, ever. I want to work with you to figure this out, OK? You mean a lot to me, and having you up there with me and Mitch, like that's so huge! You've been there for a lot of the work on these songs...you brought my vision to life in the studio and now you're here, getting to see it play out! And you do not have my permission to experience this magnificent and magical moment for the first time from behind the stage, all alone. There's no fucking way." he said and you chuckled softly through your tears as he squeezed your hands reassuringly again. "You deserve this. Let's figure this out." he offered again and you sniffled and nodded.

"OK." you agreed softly and he smiled.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." you sniffled and smiled at him before he hugged you tight and you relaxed in his embrace.

"Perfect. Just gonna hold you for a bit, OK?" he said and you just hummed.

Your eating disorder had robbed you of tons of incredible experiences in your life. Either because you weren't well enough to show up or because you felt ashamed...but the buck stopped here. Not anymore. Harry was right, you deserved this and you wanted this, so you were gonna do it with his help and other Harry's help. After a few moments he let go of you and pulled back to wipe away the slightly smeared makeup beneath your eyes.

"If you don't mind not saying anything to Harry about why I-"

"Of course not." He said right away.

"Do you think the band'll mind that I might not be in the uniform?"

"I doubt it, but if someone has any issues I'll take care of it, OK?" he assured you and you nodded.

"Thank you, H."

"Course, love." He smiled kindly, "And I know that for now we might scramble a bit but what if we get you a tour shirt or sweater to wear on top and you can just tie the jumpsuit sleeves around you or something so that you just have the pants on?" he suggested.

"Yeah, I think that's good. I can't very well go out in my spandex shorts, that’s what I came in." you giggled and he chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry not happening. This is kind of about me so...." he joked and you laughed softly, "There she is." he said, his thumb swiped over your smile line for a moment before he pulled it away, "Sorry." he said softly.

"It's alright." you assured him and he smiled.

"Let's get this figured out then." he said and you nodded and headed back.

Of course, Harry had been right about not wanting you to miss the first show because you were hiding backstage. It had been one the best experiences of your life so far. The crowd were so loud and happy to be there. Hearing everyone sing the songs with you all, specially getting to sing Matilda and seeing how much it meant to everyone was amazing. It had been absolutely magical, you had even teared up. And when Harry spared you a glance at the end of the song and saw you wiping a tear he shot you a thumbs up and you returned the gesture. You guys started to wave at the fans at the barricade as you headed back to the main stage. You felt someone come up behind you and then Harry's arm draped over your shoulder.

"Alright, love?" he asked against your ear.

"Yeah, you were right though." you said to him, "I'm glad I'm not stuck in the back and missing this." you smiled up at him and he smiled.

"Me too." he assured you.

Of course, hundreds of fans had recorded this little interaction between the two of you and the only thing that people were obsessing over was how protective and soft Harry seemed to be with you and in turn it made the fans even more gentle towards you during the next shows. With each show the cheering for your introduction grew louder. By now you had talked to the other Harry and the band about what you were struggling with and they were all so kind and supportive. And now, each night when you were introduced you had that incredible support from the audience as well. No one was paying attention to your flaws or your issues or your body, they were just showing you the love and acceptance that you so often failed to give to yourself. Being built up that way gave you a new motivation to stay on track, to take care of yourself, and to keep getting better.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Milk (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Well, everyone, I don’t know how I got this idea, but I got it when I was on a work trip in Dallas and I wrote this when I had some time to breathe while I was down there. I’m not doing Kinktober (and I know that’s there’s a different prompt list for what it’s supposed to be each day, I think) but this was very kinky and, well, I felt it needed to be shared. Also, Matt gives of big dad vibes in this flannel, and it just had to be done, my friends. Enjoy! :)

Summary: After basking in the glow, ups, and downs of new parenthood, Matt attends to his partner in an effort to relief some of their pain.

Warnings: Fluff (Matt and Reader being all cute and happy saps and new parents), postpartum feelings (nothing negative, acknowledgement of mood swings/being tired, what the taco feels like after vaginal birth, sore boobs - *disclaimer: I have never been pregnant*), smut (Matt and Reader being horny for one another, mommy/daddy kink, milking kink, praise kink, blowjob)

Other Characters: None 

Word Count: 1,799

Matt hasn’t stopped smiling for six days. 

“I can believe we made her,” he whispers into your hair before kissing your temple. “She’s absolutely perfect.”

“You can say that again,” you giggle. “No lie, I’ve never seen a cuter baby. The nurse agreed.”

“I know—she told me. Actually, what she really said was ‘I haven’t seen a baby come out looking that good in three years. Trust me, honey, I’d tell you if your baby was ugly.’”

You can help but smile and turn your body into Matt’s. “Yeah, she isn’t wrinkly at all.”

“How’s my other non-wrinkly cutie doing?” he hums, kissing the top of your head. If he thought he loved you before, this proved how much more he was infatuated with you—how you choose him every time and give him the best things in his life. 

“I’m okay,” you admit. “It’s just weird, all the mood swings I’m going through and the hormones. And then there’s the frozen diapers I have to wear, and I can’t get used to how sore my boobs are.”

“It hurts that bad when she nurses, huh?”

“Well, yeah, but she’s being fed and happy, so I can’t complain too much, can it? And I mean, pumping isn’t a joyride either. It just keeps coming! They’re heavy all the time.”

“I’m sorry, angel,” he hums kisses pressing down from you cheek to the column of your neck. 

“Matt, the rule is no sex for six weeks, not six days,” you breathe, feeling goosebumps all over your skin, not wanting him to stop.

“I know, sweetheart. I just want to kiss my wife, that’s all. She did just give me the best, most precious gift in the world, after all.”

“Hm, Matthew Michael Murdock: Corniest and Hornist in all of Hell’s Kitchen,” you smile, cradling the side of his face and bringing his lips up to yours to kiss. 

“Alliteration and rhyme?”

“You presented it on a silver platter, baby.”

Matt takes your hands in his, moving your bodies away from the bassinet and into your room, letting his kisses roam all over from your lips to your chest. He pulls up your shirt and unlatches your bra, sliding the fabric down your arms and off your body, pressing kisses to your sternum that have you sit down on the mattress and lean back. 

“Matt—.”

“Let me help,” he breathes as he kisses over the swollen breast. “Which hurts more—this one or the other?”

“This one,” you concede, knowing Matt won’t take no for an answer on this. 

Like he has done many times before, he captures your nipple with his lips, sucking at the flesh. It doesn’t hurt in the same way that it does when your baby feeds, but the sheer over-use of your breasts creates a tingle. Matt must be able to sense it, because he alters his suckling motions slightly, allowing a tingly, warm feeling to spread throughout your breast and into your body. You let out a sigh of pleasure as the tightness in your breast begins to lessen as Matt drinks the milk. A blush burns up your neck and face—out of everything Matt and you have done to one another, this feels the dirtiest. But when Matt moans, a gentle hand resting on your waist as he continues, you can’t help but scrunch up his hair in your fingers. 

“Matty,” you moan. “Oh, Matty, wow. So nice.”

Matt opens his eyes slightly, moving his gaze up toward you to meet your face the best that he can. 

“So good for me, Matty,” you breathe, scratching gentle circles into his scalp. With a few more sucks, Matt gently releases your nipple from his mouth before peppering wet kisses all over your chest, but not before you catch a glance of a little dribble of milk falling from his lips and into his scruff. 

“You taste so good, angel,” he hums. “Please let me do the other breast. Please. Let me help you feel good, sweetheart.”

“You’re gonna get full, Matty,” you coo as you play with his hair and scratch his scalp, having him purr and nuzzle into your chest. “Gonna get milkdrunk.”

“Mm, but I’m helping you, sweetheart,” he moans as he kisses the fleshy underside of your breast.

“How Catholic of you, helping others, being such a good boy,” you moan as Matt holds onto your waist, trailing his kisses carefully over your tender stomach. “Such a good boy, Matty. Such a good role model for our little girl.”

“Can I angel?”

“Yeah, Matty.” The sentence isn’t even out of your mouth when Matt’s lips latch onto your other nipple, suckling and working the flesh as he just had with the other. While the motion is still gentle, there’s a bit more urgency with his actions, needing the milk out of your breast like life-sustaining nectar. His hand gently grazes up your side to cup your breast, gently squeezing as he sucks to get more milk out of you and into him.

“Good boy, Matty,” you whine. “So good for me, like that. I love feeling you like that, sucking on my tit, draining my milk for me to make me feel better. Good boy, so good.”

Matt releases your breast, gasping for air before he reattaches them to your mouth, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself in a new way on his lips. 

“So good, mommy,” he hums. The way the name rolls off his tongue sends a shiver all over my body. You started to get into the habit of calling one another “mommy” and “daddy” the closer we came to the due date, and have been since she was born, but hearing the timbre of the word in such a context drives you wild. “Mommy takes such good care of daddy, doesn’t she?” he drawls, his lips brushing up the column of your neck as he kisses the skin. “So good to daddy.”

You whimper into his lips, simultaneously needing him and hating how he started something you can’t finish—and he can’t finish either, judging by how hard he feels. “What can daddy do to make you feel better, mommy? Tell me, angel.”

“Let me make you feel good, Matty.”

“You just made me feel all kinds of good, sweetheart.”

“But I can make you feel better,” you breathe as you grab him though his pants. “Let me get you off, baby. Let me suck your cock, please.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “And that will make you feel better, angel?”

“Yeah,” you assure with a kiss. 

Moving off of the bed, he quickly rids his pants off his waist, kissing you tenderly before straddling your shoulders, positing himself in a way that won’t hurt or exert your recovering body.

“You need me to stop, you just tell me, promise?” Matt instructs, holding his hard cock by the base, just up and away from your face enough to be out of your reach.

“Promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

And with that praise, he lowers his cock into your mouth, a hiss escaping his lips as he slowly pushes deeper into you. Matt grips the headboard with one hand and brushes the top of your hair with the other, careful to set a gentle pace that will still let him get off and relieve his rock-hard cock. You gag as he hits the back of your throat, and your hand carefully snakes up to fondle his balls. The whimpers and moans that fall from his lips makes your face grow warm and goosebumps pop up on your skin. Drool gradually begins to dribble out of your mouth, your eyes watering as he gives you more and more of him. You hum as his length pumps in and out of you, letting you taste the intoxicating flavor of just him.

The sloppy sound of Matt in your mouth is nothing short of lewd and erotic. All you want is him, more and more. Matt is like a drug, and you’re hooked on him—just as much as he is you. He lets out a shaky breath, moving one hand from his grip on the headboard down to the top of your head, lovingly caressing your hair. You look up at him, feeling like you could come just from his blissed-out expression, his eyes closed and his plush lips parted. As his thrusts become more intense, he moves back to grip the headboard to try and control himself. Between the movement, hums, your tongue, you feel the little tell-tale signs that he’s close. With a few more of your joint movements, he grunts and stills, unloading in your mouth. You gasp as he pulls his cock out after he’s done, leaving you to swallow his cum and place a kiss on his upper thigh, feeling the smooth skin just before his leg hair become prominent. “I love you,” you breathe into his skin with another kiss. Adjusting himself, he slides next to you on the mattress, kissing the skin of your arm and shoulder, up to your throat, and then your cheek.

“You okay, angel?”

“Yeah,” you swallow. “I’m good. I made my man feel good.” You peck a kiss to his nose, running your fingers through his hair as he holds his face above yours. 

“We really probably shouldn’t have done that,” he smirks. 

“But we did,” you smirk right back. “Besides, my husband started the whole thing trying to take care of me. How can I deny him that?”

His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes as he places a gentle hand on your stomach. “And you’re sure that you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure, Matthew.”

“I thought it was daddy?”

You roll your eyes as you feel your face burn. “Ugh, did I unlock a kink or two?”

The biggest shit-eating smirk you have ever seen spreads across his face. “Maybe, but not just for me, angel. I heard how your heart rate increased when we called each other those names and when I was sucking on your boobs. It’s all very hot.”

“I’m glad my heart could turn you on.”

“It has from the moment I heard it.” Matt brings his lips to yours in a gentle, tender kiss filled with nothing but love.

“Sap,” you giggle against his lips, only prompting him to kiss you more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

Cuddling into one another, you slowly begin to drift off before you hear the whines and whimpers coming from your daughter’s crib.

“I’ve got her,” he whispers with a kiss to your forehead. “Rest, sweetheart. And keep your fingers crossed that she’s not hungry.”

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[fireycircus]

Ok it’s 2 am right now and instead of trying to sleep I’ve been thinking about how I feel about Usopp post time-skip and his character progression cuz I see a bunch of people have problems with it but I honestly like it. I just want to put my thoughts into the ring

So, most of my thoughts about him base on my own generalized anxiety disorder and how I’ve coped with it. I don’t think people consider that people with anxiety issues will struggle with it for life. It makes sense to me that Usopp continues to have moments where he runs away from the problem at hand despite his personal growth over the time-skip.

Usopp’s character growth isn’t about never running away or being “strong”. It’s about being brave, doing things despite how scary they are. It’s about him becoming more confident in himself and realizing he has a place on the crew.

People probably don’t think that Usopp changes much after time-skip because hasn’t he always been doing this? Well, yeah he has but the difference here is how he copes with the things that scare him. He does that better, and he doesn’t need to use a fake persona like in the past. He can be himself now.

I think the best example is in Dressrosa because of how much time he gets in the spotlight there. The first time he faces Sugar he runs away, but he’s a lot faster to realize he can’t do that than in the past. He accepts the challenge without the use of his Sogeking persona (which is a HUGE step). He gets it done and when it’s time to face her again he isn’t afraid at all. He’s being hunted down by a giant mob and yet he has his eyes on the prize.

The significance to me lies in my own experience. My flight response is so overwhelming that it’s impossible for me to think clearly at first. I’ve only started being able to calm myself down in 10 minutes versus the hours it used to take.

I get like this over things like writing a paper. Usopp gets like that over fighting for his life. I think that makes his actions pretty reasonable. It’s hard for me to exactly put it into words, but the growth for him lies in being able to get focused and stay focused after that initial flight response. I hope that makes sense to other people that aren’t me.

One last thought that’s semi-related. The scene in Wano that everyone likes to shit on Usopp for. Can we stop and think for half a second and realize that he would be acting just like Nami was if he was in her place.

There’s a list of priorities for Usopp when he’s in trouble that’s different for when others are in trouble. It’s something he shares with a lot of other members of the crew. If he’s in trouble in a situation where people are dissing Luffy, he will make up a whole speech on why they’re wrong about him. If another crew member is in trouble, their safety comes first. We’ve literally seen this happen before, why are people freaking out about it?

Plus, it’s not as if Luffy would get mad at him for it. His crew’s lives are more important than his pride. That’s been a thing all the way back since drum island with Vivi telling him to stand down for Nami’s sake. He’s learned that lesson as a captain. So it would make no sense for it to be a problem when Usopp does it. Especially since Luffy’s gained such a deep understanding of Usopp and how his mind operates after Water 7.

Ok rant over. I’m sorry if this is kind of incoherent, I’ve got a lot to say and don’t always know the best way to explain it. I’d be happy to know if other people have thought about this stuff too. Thank you for listening Usopp nation.

[firstelevens]

Roll charisma with a disadvantage 👀

I am SO excited about this one so thank you for giving me the chance to talk about it!!!

roll charisma with disadvantage is a high fantasy/Dungeons and Dragons AU, where Sam and Steve and Nat are trying to cure a curse that's been placed on Bucky while evading the disciples of Hydra. Hopefully the first chapter should go up next week, and it'll somewhat sporadically update but I'm aiming to be done by the end of summer. It's a lot more actual combat than I've ever attempted to write, which is daunting, but I'm having fun so far!

Big excerpt under the cut because I'm too stoked to not share.

Sam only sees it because Redwing does, flying up over the treetops and scouting for danger ahead. It only comes in snippets first, clearer as Redwing gets closer: clashing steel and the light and smoke of magic being cast, then commands shouted in the voice of a superior, the language indistinct over the sounds of battle. 

“How many are there? Is it bandits?” Sam asks, and only belatedly remembers that he doesn’t need to actually speak the words for Redwing to hear them.

Sire, comes Redwing’s voice in his mind, graver than it was a moment ago, these are no common criminals.

The smoke from the spells is still too thick for Redwing to see who’s involved, apparently, but there are wagons nearby where the attackers must have awaited their targets. He doesn’t need to say anything to Sam as he swoops down past a wagon, the image stamped onto the wheels coming through perfectly clear: a many-headed beast, entwined around a stylized skull. Inside the biggest wagon is a cage much too large for any kind of animal, but perfectly sized for a person.

Sam takes off at a run.

Redwing doubles back to watch for any potential attackers, but the way is clear: apparently Hydra’s disciples were after a very specific quarry when they staked out these woods.

Five attackers, Redwing tells him, as Sam comes within earshot of the fighting and slows down. The Captain and the rude one are fighting from the ground. I cannot see the Spider, but she must be close.

Even as he devises a plan of attack, Sam’s mouth quirks up into a smile. Bucky had made the choice to refer to Redwing as a pigeon the last time they met, and he may have avoided a claw to the face at the time, but apparently Redwing’s ire hasn’t cooled at all.

With everyone caught up in the fighting, Sam manages to get close enough that he has a line of sight through the trees, picking out Bucky and Steve’s forms amidst the smoke and dust. Steve seems alright, but Bucky is bleeding and holding himself stiff as he moves, like he caught an unexpected attack on his flank.

Sam murmurs healing spell before he does anything else, directing his magic towards Bucky and hoping that the chaos of the fight masks the peculiar golden light of his spellcasting. Then he draws his crossbow and fires a bolt at the man in priest’s garb who’s locked in combat with Steve.

As both Bucky and Steve glance around for the source of the arrow, the priest yells an order to the others, and Sam draws his sword as two druids advance on him. He’s sizing them up when there’s a soft thump beside him, and suddenly there’s Natasha, brushing a leaf off her shoulder and grinning in a way that’s just a little bit feral.

“Nice of you to join us,” she says, like they’re on a walk and not mid-skirmish. Before the first of the druids can so much as lift his spear, she’s knocked it away with her quarterstaff and knocked him flat on his back with a single kick to his chest.

“I thought I’d squeeze in some light exercise after breakfast,” says Sam grinning at her and easily parrying the first two blows from the knight who whirls on him with a greatsword.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hi! Could you do part 5 of A little danger? Thanks!

A little danger, part 5 (Sky of Eraklyon x mind!fairy reader)

A little danger // part two // part three // part four

Summary: After their conversation ends, Y/N decides her heart is too fragile to be shared, but Sky doesn't share her sentiment and neither do the girls.

Warnings: angst, swearing

“You should go”, Saul hands Y/N a bottle of water and she nods.

“Where to? Alfea? It’s not exactly a homey environment for me.”

Sighing, Saul sits beside her, his eyes on the floor. “How bad is it?”

Snorting, she shakes her head. “That depends on who you are, I suppose.”

“How bad is it for you”, Saul glances at her and her fake smile dissipates.

Swallowing thickly, she pulls the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and folds her arms over her chest. “My powers are out of control and everyone’s terrified of me.”

“Your friends didn’t seem so terrified”, Saul tries, but she’s quick to shut him down.

“They’re not my friends.”

“Sky’s not terrified”, Saul tries and she chuckles dryly.

“Apparently he’s only good at pretending not to be terrified.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Saul considers placing a comforting hand on her hand but seeing her hands tucked under her armpits, he realizes she’s avoiding contact.

“Are you afraid?”

Frowning, she looks at him. “What?”

“Are you afraid of yourself?”

Averting her gaze, she chews on her bottom lip mercilessly. It’s always been her nervous tell, something she did even as a child. Saul never quite understood why her mother took her away after a single mistake, something she didn’t even mean to do. In Saul’s eyes, she didn’t deserve to be torn away from all she’s known, from him…from Sky.

“You shouldn’t be scared”, Saul leans back, his eyes never leaving her. “Nature intended a powerful gift for you because you are capable of wielding it. Farah always said it’s all about intent; if you wish do to good, your power will be good. If you wish to harm you will harm.”

Catching her unguarded gaze, Saul offers a small smile. “Fear is a catalyst, Y/N. If you fear and dread your power, it will go unchecked. It will have free reign and destroy everything it touches because it feels rejected by its master, but if you accept it, embrace it – you’ll find you have more control than you believe.”

Sniffling, her chin trembles as she tries to speak. She pauses, closing her eyes just for a second to compose herself before relaxing her jaw.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yet you’ve done it”, Saul reminds her. “You saved me.”

“We got lucky”, she whispers, afraid her voice would break.

“Did we?” Saul raises his eyebrows. “Or did your heart embrace the chaos because you knew without your help I’d be captured. Or worse.”

Shuddering with the thought, she turns away from Saul. The wound of her mother’s death still hasn’t healed, if anything, it’s infected, rotting inside her. Losing Saul would be like picking at the puss and dead tissue, deepening the damage.

“I try so hard”, she tucks her hair behind her ears. “Every day, I try so hard to find a way to love it… and myself. And for a moment I truly thought I did. Sky was helping me do exactly that, but…even he’s proved himself to be”, she inhales sharply. “He thinks of me as someone who’d cause him pain.” Shrugging, she sniffles. “I love him more than I love oxygen, but knowing he sees that in me is heartbreaking.”

“Don’t you think that Sky being with you through it all proves his love is true?”

Scoffing, Y/N stands abruptly. “Or he’s just doing what the girls want and is keeping an eye on the unpredictable one.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she lets out a heavy sigh. “He’s made me believe he loves me, but how can he love me if he believes I’d do anything to hurt him? How is that love?”

“Y/N”, Saul stands too, “don’t be so quick to judge your entire relationship based on a few words exchanged over the phone.”

“How do you know that it happened over the phone”, she narrows her eyes.

“Because I saw the change in you the moment you were done talking to him. Whatever he said, I’m sure it wasn’t what he meant. Have faith in him and allow him a chance to explain.”

Shaking her head, she clears her throat. “That’s the thing. I don’t want his explanations, I don’t want his doubts and I don’t want him or anyone else messing with my mind. It’s already a mess in here, I refuse to allow anyone to add to the chaos.”

“It’s a mistake”, Saul warns but she waves him off.

“You’re right. I should probably go back to the dorms before they notice me missing. After all, I did commit a crime today.” Forcing a tight lipped smile, she gives Saul a quick, halfhearted hug before leaving him standing, his heart heavy and mind full of worries for her future.

The next day, Y/N was diligently avoiding contact with the girls in class. Musa tried to get into her mind more than once, but she didn’t even break a sweat fending off her tries. Bloom tried to corner her in the bathroom, so Y/N flooded it. Stella didn’t seem as patient as them, grabbing her in the dorms with such a force Y/N thought it might have been a specialist that pushed her against a wall.

“We need you”, Stella says before Y/N has the chance to antagonize her.

Rolling her eyes, she narrows them in response. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can figure it out on your own. After all, you’ve got several other fairies to ask for help.”

“Bloom found a book”, Stella ignores her. “It’s some old book we believe belongs to the blood witches and Sebastian is willing to help us translate it so we can figure out why the fuck are fairies going missing.”

“Hold up”, Y/N pushes Stella off her, straightening the fabric of her skirt. “Missing? I know there was one, but how many are we talking about?”

“Three.”

“THREE?!”

Covering her mouth, Stella pushes her back against the wall. “One came back, but he's comatose.”

Nodding, she pulls Stella’s hand away. “If you messed up my lipstick, I will throw you into a wall with a lot more force than this.”

“Y/N, this is serious.”

“So am I.”

“Rosalind is up to something”, Stella whispers. “We could all be in danger.”

“Why don’t you take it up with your bestie who released her”, Y/N kinks her eyebrows. “After all, she’s the reason Saul is in hiding, Dowling abandoned us and now we have an evil mastermind turning this place into a dark arts school where plotting wicked deeds is the only way to success.”

“Saul asked for you specifically to help with this.”

Averting her gaze, Y/N groans. “What exactly is it that you want from me?”

“To go to Saul’s house and bring us back a book that will help us make sense of it all.”

The house Y/N spent so much of her childhood playing at…with Sky. With the very guy she’s dodged three times today. She had to leave her dorm through a window because he was camped out in front of her door, so how can she go to his house now if he’s not there.

“There’s a bookcase in the sitting room”, Stella continues. “He said you’ll know what he means.”

“Yeah, but it’s been so long since I’ve been there. How the fuck am I supposed to find it now?”

Stella’s lips spread into a grin as she turns to her left, looking in the distance. Following her gaze, Y/N frowns as she finds Sky sitting on a bench at the far end of the courtyard, sending them a small, innocent wave.

“Absolutely not”, Y/N exclaims as she begins moving in the opposite direction, Stella rushing after her.

“Sky said you’d be resistant, but this is really important.”

Turning on her heel, she makes Stella gasp as they nearly collide.

“Oh, why of course! I’ll go on a quick trip to the house that carries many haunting memories with a guy I want nothing to do with just because this is really important to the heir of Solaria.”

“You’re mocking me”, Stella grimaces. “I’ve always been kind to you. Why do you hate me so much?”

Sighing, Y/N looks over Stella’s shoulder as she notices Sky moving toward them.

“I don’t hate you. Or anyone else. It’s safer if you just stay away from me, okay? Apparently I’m dangerous, regardless if it’s something I mean to do or not.”

Taking Y/N’s hand, Stella tugs at it lightly. “Well, in that case, you’ll have to stop being all bark and actually bite. Because I don’t care what other people say, I’m your friend and as your friend I will not let you ignore me for no good reason.”

Despite her resolve, Y/N’s lips twitch almost as if she wanted to smile, but stopped herself in time to maintain her mask.

“I don’t want friends.”

“Tough luck, because it’s not something YOU choose, it’s given by other people and I am a friend.”

Glancing at Sky who paused behind Stella, Y/N purses her lips. “You can’t manipulate me into doing this by being my friend.”

“No, I can’t.” Stella sighs. “I could go, anyone could, but you’re the most powerful of us all and if someone else decides to take the book, you would have an actual shot at protecting it as well as Sky. So I am hoping you choose to do it because you care, not because of any manipulations of me or anyone else.”

Huffing, Y/N turns away from her with her teeth sinking into her bruised bottom lip. It is so much easier being on her own and away from the drama, but she knows Stella is right. She might be mad at Sky and the rest of the world, but she doesn’t want him to get hurt nor does she want the world to burn.

Nodding, she turns to Sky. “When can we go?”

“Now”, he answers readily. “I can borrow the Harvey’s car and we can slip away.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to be involved in something that could help Saul.” She remarks, dealing her first blow. It landed like a gut punch, she knew by the flash of hurt in his deep blue eyes and still, she wanted to hit him again so he’d feel how it feels when he says hurtful things to her.

“I’m sorry”, he manages to say before Stella intervenes.

“You guys have enough time to talk during the drive, so get going.”

Forcing a smile, Y/N gives her thumbs up before heading toward and past Sky. “Might wanna tell him that too.”

Hearing her hushed “Go” followed by Sky’s footsteps, Y/N felt her throat drying up. It’s going to be hell avoiding the very person she’s meant to go on a covert mission. Last thing she wanted was to talk to him after last night. He said what he said, no amount of apologies can erase the pain those words caused nor the self-doubt it brought back.

He followed her quietly, understanding it’s essential they get on the road quickly. If he spoke to her, it would turn into a debacle before the drive even started and he wasn’t willing to risk it now. After all, he’ll have her for the rest of the day.

“I’ll drive”, he offers and she looks to him, chewing her bottom lip before nodding and silently moving to the passenger’s side. She never liked to drive. Sky joked about it being a hassle to reach the pedals due to her short stature, but in truth, she truly didn’t trust herself behind the wheel. She doesn’t trust herself with much in general.

Sky looks at her, a small smile upon his lips. “Ready?”

Glancing at him, her eyes linger on the smile. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like nothing’s wrong and smile at me like you’re trying to seduce me.”

Furrowing his brows, Sky’s smile widens. “Wasn’t my intention”, he leans in slightly, “is it working?”

Clicking her tongue, she leans away from him. “No. So stop it. Better yet, don’t talk to me.”

“Mhmm”, he smirks, starting the car.

“Making sounds is still communicating”, she remarks.

Chuckling, he looks at her. “You said not to talk, didn’t say anything about communicating in other ways.”

“This isn’t funny”, she snaps and Sky’s smile falls. “The only reason I’m here right now is because Saul asked me to go, so don't think it changes anything.”

Licking his bottom lip, Sky clears his throat. “Understood.”

But he didn’t and they both knew it. It won’t be the first nor last argument they’ll have today and for Sky that was a positive thought. As long as they argue, there is hope. Y/N is the type to love deeply, she doesn’t just get over things and move on with her life. If she’s willing to fight with him, it means she cares for him and that gives him hope it’s not too late to repair their relationship. Going to where it all started should facilitate the process.

Or so he thought.

A/n - I know this one took so frickin' long and truth be told I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue it. This entire year has been one of the worst years of my life and I wasn't in the right headspace at all, so I'm hoping this part isn't too bad. Also, might need to make a masterlist considering there's 5 parts now and there will be more. I have like three asks regarding this series, so rest assured I'll write more. It's an ask based series, so I tend to write new parts with every ask I receive as long as there's a point to the story I'm trying to tell. All in all, prepare for more angst coming in the future parts of this series and know I truly appreciate every ask, comment and reblog you left during this hiatus.

PART 6