#there's nothing wrong with getting married

[jinjoohaa]

HUSBAND TOJI !

CW: Smut, breeding kink, possessiveness, degradation, cockwarming, rough sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving & m. receiving), titfucking, domestic settings, public teasing, pregnancy themes, explicit language. 18+ ONLY.

HUSBAND!TOJI who always sleeps with a hand down your panties, even when you're mad at him.

He says it’s for “security” and grins when you swat him. “Shut up. S’not like you’re pushing me away.” You’re curled into his chest, and his palm is firm over your mound, thumb lazily brushing against your clit. It’s barely even sexual—it’s possessive, grounding. And yet, your breath still hitches every time he stirs in his sleep, fingers twitching. You whisper, “You’re such a perv.” He hums, “Married one, didn’t you?”

HUSBAND!TOJI when you wear his shirt around the house and nothing else.

He stops mid-step, leans in the doorway, and just stares. “You tryna kill me?” he murmurs, voice thick. You roll your eyes, walking past with a sway in your hips, but he’s already grabbing your waist. “S’cute how you pretend you don’t know what you’re doing.” His hands slide beneath the hem, palming your ass as he groans low. “Keep walking around like that and I'll knock up one more into you again. No hesitation.”

HUSBAND!TOJI when he gets back from work and sees you napping in his hoodie.

The living room’s quiet except for your soft breathing, knees tucked to your chest. His hoodie hangs off your frame, sleeves too long. He kneels beside the couch, brushing hair from your cheek. “Damn, you’re cute,” he mutters, voice rough from the day. You stir a little, and he kisses your forehead. “Go back to sleep, mama. I’ll start dinner.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who stuffs you full and calls it “marital duty.”

“You’re my wife. Know what that means, right?” he growls into your ear, rutting deep inside you. “Means I get to breed you whenever I want.” Your legs tremble as he presses your knees to your chest, cock slamming into you like he’s trying to plant his name in your womb. He watches your stomach bulge slightly with every deep thrust and groans. “Fuck, look at that. So damn tight around me—greedy little thing.” You sob his name, and he snarls, “Gonna make sure you’re leaking for days.”

HUSBAND!TOJI when he catches you without a bra at home.

He corners you in the kitchen, arms braced on either side. “No bra?” he smirks, gaze dark. “You tryna make me lose my mind?” His hands are already under your shirt, kneading your tits like they belong to him—because they do. He toys with your nipples until you’re gasping, lips brushing your ear. “Wanna see how loud you get when I fuck these pretty tits.” And he does—right on the counter.

HUSBAND!TOJI who makes you cockwarm him during dinner.

He pulls you onto his lap, lowering you on his cock slow and deep. “Sit still, yeah? Don’t make a mess on my pants.” You tremble with every twitch of him inside you, your pussy squeezing reflexively. He eats dinner like nothing’s wrong, occasionally shifting his hips just to watch you struggle. “God, I love you like this. My little cockwarmer.” By the time dessert hits the table, you’re shaking and glassy-eyed, and he smirks. “Beg me nicely after this, maybe I’ll let you come.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who fingers you in the shower just because he missed the way you sound.

Water rushes over your bodies as he traps you against the tile. “Missed this tight little pussy,” he rasps, two fingers already thrusting into you knuckle-deep. You’re slipping, clutching his biceps, moaning shamelessly. “You’re already this wet?” he chuckles. “Didn’t even touch your clit yet.” And when he does—you nearly collapse. “Fuck, you’re so easy for me.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who humps you during laundry, muttering filth into your ear.

He pins you to the machine, hips grinding into your ass, cock hard against your thin shorts. “Look at you—trying to fold clothes like you’re not desperate.” His voice is breathless, low, filthy. “You feel that? You feel what you do to me?” You moan when he grabs your tits through your shirt, dragging his cock along your ass again. “Gonna ruin these fuckin’ panties before the spin cycle’s even done.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who lifts you up and fucks you against the wall because you mouthed off.

��You’ve got such a dirty little mouth,” he growls, hauling you up like you weigh nothing. Your back hits the wall, and his cock’s already pushing inside you, thick and fast. “Let’s see if you’re still smart when I fuck the attitude outta you.” Your legs wrap around him instinctively, and he groans. “Shit, you’re tight. Always such a brat ‘til I split you open.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who raw fucks you slow and deep until you’re begging him to move.

He’s hovering over you, arms caging you in, just grinding in so deep it hurts. “Feels better like this, doesn’t it? No rubber. Just you and me.” You sob, trying to buck up into him, but he holds you down. “No rush, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel every inch.” His hips move in torturous rolls, dragging along every sweet spot until your nails dig into his back. “This pussy’s mine. Don’t forget it.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who loves using your tits to get himself off on lazy mornings.

He straddles your chest while you’re barely awake, cock already hard. “Morning, baby,” he says with a smirk, sliding between your tits. “Hope you don’t mind if I use these for a bit.” You groan, blinking up at him as he thrusts slow, then faster. “Fuck, they’re perfect. So soft, so pretty—‘m gonna make a mess on that cute face.” He cums with a grunt, hot and sticky over your lips and cheeks. “Now that’s how a wife should wake up.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who loves fucking you from behind while you're on the phone with your mom.

He catches you on the bed, phone to your ear, chatting sweetly with your mom. “Just a second,” he mouths, grinning as he pulls your shorts down and slides in from behind. Your gasp is muffled in the pillow as he thrusts slow, shallow, teasing. “Tell her how good your day’s been,” he whispers darkly. You try to form words, voice shaking as he pushes deeper. “She’s got no idea her daughter’s getting her guts rearranged while talkin’ about dinner plans.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who wakes you up in the middle of the night just to use your mouth.

You blink awake to the feeling of his tip brushing your lips, already leaking. “Open up, baby. Ya husband needs you,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep and want. You do, warm and pliant, letting him slide into your throat. His hand cups your cheek as he rocks into you gently, groaning. “Good girl—fuck, just like that.” He finishes in your mouth with a low, breathy moan and strokes your hair. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll take care of you in the morning.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who makes you ride his cock in front of a mirror.

“Look at yourself, baby,” he growls, hands gripping your hips as he makes you bounce on him. The mirror reflects everything—your flushed cheeks, your tits bouncing, the way you’re taking every inch of him. “You see how pretty you look getting ruined by your husband?” he purrs, licking at your neck. You whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “No hiding—watch me stretch you open like this,” he grunts, thrusting up hard. “You were made to take my cock. Look at that sweet little pussy swallowing me whole.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who stuffs your panties in your mouth while he fingers you.

“Too loud,” he smirks, yanking your soaked panties off and pushing them between your lips. “Can’t have the neighbors hearing how desperate my baby gets.” You moan into the fabric as his fingers slide deep inside, curling just right. “Tight,” he mutters, watching your legs twitch. “Maybe I’ll use my tongue next... or maybe I’ll just edge you until you cry.” Your eyes roll back as he rubs your clit, slow and cruel, while your mouth stays gagged with your own scent.

HUSBAND!TOJI who loves using you as his personal stress reliever after work.

He comes home, tired, eyes dark. “Bend over,” he says simply, already unbuckling his belt. You don’t ask—just obey, trembling. He takes you fast, rough, groaning like he needs this more than air. “Shit, I needed this,” he pants, grabbing your hips. “You’re better than therapy, baby. Fuckin’ perfect little wife.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who makes you sit on his face first thing in the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he mumbles sleepily, patting his chest. “Sit up here, give ya husband his breakfast.” You’re still groggy, but your core’s already pulsing when he pulls you up over his face. His tongue flicks slow and deep, groaning like he’s starving. “Fuck, you taste even sweeter when you’re half-asleep,” he purrs. Your thighs quake as he sucks your clit, wet and sloppy, tongue working faster until you’re crying out. “Now that’s how you start a goddamn day.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who fucks you dumb while you’re wearing nothing but his shirt.

You thought it would be cute—wearing nothing but his oversized shirt around the house. He thought it was an invitation. “You’re asking for it walking around like that,” he growls, yanking you against the wall. His hand’s already between your legs, fingers finding your slick slit. “No panties? Fucking slut.” He lifts your leg and slides into you hard, the shirt bunched around your waist. “Gonna fill this cunt until your brain melts, baby.”

HUSBAND!TOJI who talks to your belly every night like your baby can hear him.

He lies beside you, hand resting on your bump, voice soft. “Hey, little brat,” he mutters with a small smirk. “You better not give your mom hell tomorrow.” You giggle, combing your fingers through his hair as he kisses your stomach. “She’s already cranky as hell without you kicking her bladder at 3 a.m.” Then his voice lowers, a bit more serious. “But I hope you turn out just like her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me."

HUSBAND!TOJI who gets possessive seeing your pregnant body in public.

You’re wearing a simple sundress, bump on display, and some guy glances your way. Toji’s arm wraps tight around your waist. “He’s lucky I don’t rip his damn eyes out,” he mutters against your ear, voice low. You laugh, trying to calm him, but he glares after the stranger like he’s a threat. “This belly? Mine. That glow? I did that.” He rests a hand over your stomach with pride, daring anyone else to even glance your way again.

HUSBAND!TOJI who helps you with swollen feet but grumbles the whole time.

You sit on the couch, huffing tiredly as your feet throb. “Should’ve worn the damn slippers I told you to,” he grumbles, grabbing your ankle and dragging your foot into his lap. But his hands are gentle, massaging carefully, thumbs pressing into all the right places. “Tch. You’re lucky I love you,” he mutters, then kisses the inside of your ankle with a soft grunt. You smile, already melting from the warmth of his touch.

HUSBAND!TOJI who gets weirdly emotional feeling the baby kick.

You gasp softly one night. “Toji—she’s kicking.” His head snaps up, and he’s on his knees in front of you in seconds, palm flat on your belly. The next kick makes his eyes widen. “That’s my girl,” he mutters, voice cracking. “Strong little bastard already.” He leans in and presses a kiss right where the baby kicked.

HUSBAND!TOJI who gets turned on seeing you all round and glowing.

You catch him staring at you again—eyes lingering on the stretch of your belly, the heaviness of your breasts. “Toji,” you say, warning in your tone. “Don’t even think about it.” But he smirks, already stalking toward you. “I’m just admiring my work, baby.” He kneels down, kissing your bump, then looking up with that sinful grin. “Still the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Plums & Pancakes

Pairing: Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader

Summary: A quiet life wasn’t something Bucky Barnes ever imagined for himself , not after everything he’d endured. But then a blur of flying fruit and a love he never saw coming changed everything.

Word Count: 2.2k ish

Warning/Tags: TOOTH ROOTING FLUFF!

literally nothing but sweet cuteness comfort and loveee oh and did i mention fluff! maybe borderline suggestive but not really?

If i missed anything let me know!

Authors Note: okay guys dad bucky is my favorite thing to write everrrr so if you love it too lmk and ill write up some more for ya! hes a cutie pie in thissss anyways see ya on the next one bbys

REQUESTS / ASKS ALWAYS OPEN! 🌷MY MASTERLIST 💖 COMMENTS REBLOGS AND LIKES are loved and encouraged!

Bucky Barnes never believed the universe would be kind to him.

Not after the fall or Hydra. Not after the years he couldn’t even remember his own name. And not after the blip.

But sometimes , every once in a while—he was reminded that maybe… just maybe… he’d been wrong.

The biggest reminder , funny enough , came in the form of flying fruit.

It had been a warm September day , the kind that hinted at fall without the full commitment. 

The annual farmer’s market in upstate New York was crowded but now overbearing. 

Bucky had been reaching for a small basket of plums—his favorite , a habit from a lifetime ago when living alone in Romania when a blur of motion smacked right into him.

And suddenly , the plums were on the ground. So were three apples, a carton of strawberries ,  an entire paper bag that had clearly been packed to the brim with freshly baked bread, soaps , and jars of something that smelled like lavender.

“ooghf–oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you’d said, immediately dropping to your knees beside the wreckage tyring to scramble and pick everything up. “I wasn’t looking , I didn’t mean to—are you okay?”

Bucky had just blinked. He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone move that fast while apologizing so much.

“I’m fine,” he’d managed, kneeling beside you. “Are you okay?”

You looked up at him then—cheeks flushed, strands of hair stuck to your forehead from the heat, hands full of squashed plums—and laughed. A soft, kind laugh that didn’t match the chaotic scene at all.

“Guess that’s what I get for trying to carry half the stand in one go,” you said, brushing your hands on your jeans. “I try to help my dad with his stall every week. Still haven’t learned to make two trips I guess.”

He didn’t know why, but Bucky had smiled.

Maybe it was your warmth.

Maybe it was how pretty you were , big eyes filled with wonder.

Maybe it was the fact that it had been a very long time since someone looked at him like he wasn’t dangerous.

“I could, uh… buy you a coffee to make up for the plum mess?” you’d offered after he helped pick everything up.

And Bucky—James Buchanan Barnes, former assassin, hundred-year-old man with too many ghosts was too nervous to trust his voice , so he nodded.

And man did that feel like a lifetime ago.

Because now… now Bucky Barnes was married.

To you.

And the two of you had built quite a life. Settling down into a simple cottage tucked into an open field. Where you two were raising your now four-year-old daughter named Winnie , after his ma , and just recently welcomed your five-month-old son , Grant.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The sun was barely peeking above the horizon when the cries started.

Bucky stirred first. It was a reflex now—like breathing , like how he would hold his breath when he reached for a gun back in the day. 

Only now, he reached for his son instead.

Grant was fussing in the bassinet next to their bed, squirming with his tiny fists clenched tight face angry and red.

“I got him, doll,” Bucky whispered to you, voice thick with sleep as he rubbed his eyes. “You rest a little longer.”

But just as he was lifting Grant into his arms cooing to the baby, another voice rang out from the hallway.

“Mommy!”

You groaned ,  face squished into the pillow. 

“Mommyyyy, I want pancakes!” Winnie’s voice was full of energy and chipper. “With chocolate chips!”

“I’ll make ’em,” Bucky offered, already patting Grant’s back as the baby calmed in his arms. “After I change him , the little guy seems to have a present for me.” Bucky's face crinkled when he stood with the stinky babe.

You chuckled into your pillow now , stretching before rolling out of bed. “I’ll get her dressed. She’s probably already got on her princess boots and nothing else.”

It was true.

Winnie had exactly three obsessions at the moment: chocolate chip pancakes, braids, and her sparkly light-up boots that clomped across the hardwood with the grace of a baby elephant.

You managed to wrangle her into an outfit—jean overalls  and a cream flowy , long-sleeved shirt—and sat her down on the stool in the bathroom.

She chattered the entire time as you sectioned her long brown hair into three even parts. Fingers twisting with precision as you yawned, still shaking off the sleeplessness from Grant's eventful evening.

“Daddy said we’re going to the park. Can we bring snacks? I wanna feed the ducks and geese again. I bet they missed me. Do you think they did? Do ducks like pancakes? Because if they do, I’ll share.”

“You’re a generous soul and yes i think they missed you.,” you told her laughing at her innocent toddler mind. You tied off the braid with a glittery purple band and she jumped into your lap happy with the result.

Meanwhile, in the nursery Bucky had Grant tucked against his chest in a soft wrap. His giant hands moved gently, adjusting the wrap with practiced ease.

“Hey,” he called out as he stepped out of the nursery, “how do we look?”

You turned and—oh.

God help you.

Your husband stood there barefoot, in downy gray sweatpants and a blue soft t-shirt. 

Your baby was swaddled against his chest, all chubby cheeks and content, little fingers curled into Bucky’s chest.

The silver chain of his dog tags glinted just beneath the collar of his shirt.

He smiled, soft and sleepy. “Too much?”

You just blinked. “You know what you’re doing to me.”

He chuckled.

And screw it if he didn’t do the lopsided smirk that made you weak back when you first met.

“I’m just trying to get our kids to the park in one piece,” he said innocently. “If I look good doing it, that’s on you for marrying me.”

He said smiling, leaning down to your face and kissing you full of his love.

“Ugh,” Winnie groaned dramatically. “You guys are always kissing and flirting.”

Bucky ruffled her hair. “Get used to it, peanut cause every day i fall more in love with your mama.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The grocery run had been a blur of snack requests , impulse juice box purchases, and Bucky being stopped by a sweet older woman who insisted Grant looked “just like his daddy.”

 You had smiled politely while Bucky awkwardly thanked her, his face a little pink from the compliment, and then used the excuse of Grant needing to get home to escape.

But now it was time for your favorite part of the day.

The park.

A soft breeze drifted through the trees, the sun warm but not oppressive. 

Winnie ran ahead to the playground, her boots lighting up with every delighted stomp. Grant was now sound asleep against Bucky’s chest, full from his bottle he had between the store and here , his little mouth slack as he dozed in the wrap.

You settled onto the bench with a relieved sigh, one hand shading your eyes as you tracked Winnie’s every movement—up the ladder, across the bridge, back down the slide. 

Bucky dropped a kiss to your temple before walking off to toss a crumpled snack wrapper in the park bin. “Ill be right back just gonna throw this away” 

You looked down to see what he was holding and noticed the lack of his wedding band , tan lines still prominent but the metal was missing , probably forgotten after his shower you thought.

You were keeping your gaze still on Winnie as he walked away , when you heard a loud cackle.

You turned your head to the sound and saw a woman next to your husband.

Tall. Blonde. Designer sunglasses and a perfectly timed laugh.

She walked up closer to him, head tilted like she already knew how pretty she was.

You squinted. 

She was talking. And then laughing. Then her hand touched his chest.

His chest.

It wasn’t threatening, not really. But it wasn’t nothing.

You watched Bucky awkwardly smile , then nod , and finally excuse himself, walking back to you fast , his brows slightly furrowed.

“Well, that was strange,” he said as he sat beside you. “Why do people flirt like that in the middle of a public park? Like, thanks ma’am, but I’m holding my son right here.”

You smirked, turning your head toward him. “Well, women do love hot single dads.”

The look on his face was instant. 

His head snapped so fast you heard it crack.

“SINGLE??” he practically barked. It made Grant stir and whine at the disruptive sound ,  he immediately bounced gently, voice going soft again. “Sorry, buddy. You’re okay , I'm sorry.”

You shrugged, holding up his hand in front of his face. 

“Just saying. You’re out here ringless , looking like that , holding an adorable baby , how do you accept any girl not to jump on you?”

Bucky looked down at his hand like it had betrayed him. “Shit,” he muttered. “I took it off when I was washing the bottles  and didn’t put it back on. I knew I forgot something. I've felt off since we left. She probably thinks I’m trying to—God.”

You laughed, rubbing your hand along his thigh. “Relax. You didn’t do anything. And honestly? It was kind of fun watching someone else drool over you for a change .”

He gave you a pointed look.

 “Don’t say things like that when you know I’m going to spend the next hour trying to convince you you’re the only person I want to look at .”

You winked. “Convince away, Barnes…But the moment a woman's manicured claws touch either of my kids then we have a major problem and the winter soldier will be her last worry.” You said laying your head on his shoulder turning back to Winnie now picking flowers as you rubbed Grants back.

“Okay , okay easy there mama bear” He laughed through his nose.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Winnie went down first.

After a bubble bath with approximately twelve too many toys, two books, and a lullaby from both of you (because she claimed you both sang differently and she needed the duet), she finally dozed off.

Bucky had given her one last kiss on the forehead and whispered, “Sweet dreams, peanut,” before closing her door softly with a click.

Grant had been next—fed, changed, and now out cold in his crib with one arm over his head like a tiny drama king. He is his fathers son–

And now?

Now it was your turn.

You stood in front of your mirror, legs a little tired, back a little sore, but your heart full. 

You rubbed lotion on to your arms and shoulders slowly, the cool cream easing your muscles as the soft light of the bedroom cast everything in a dreamy golden hue.

Behind you, the bathroom door opened.

Bucky padded in barefoot, wearing those navy blue pajama pants you loved—low on his hips, soft from too many washes (thanks to lots of spit up) . His shirt was off, hair still damp from his shower. You caught him watching you in the mirror.

“You’re staring,” you said softly, smiling now brushing through your hair.

He didn’t answer right away. 

Instead, he walked to the bed and flopped down dramatically on his back with a groan. Like I said , father– like son.

“I’m exhausted,” he murmured, eyes closed. 

You laughed, turning around fully and crawling onto the bed beside him. 

You caressed his cheek , the pad of your thumb swiping his cheekbone and slowly moved to straddle his waist , your faces inches apart , when he suddenly held up his hand stopping your movement.

His wedding band back on and shining brightly.

“Sorry, doll face,” he drawled. “But I’m happily married.”

“Oh no. I was just about to ask for your number, too.”

He grinned, one of those rare, slow ones that started with the left side of his mouth and crept across. 

“You can have my number. But only if you kiss me first.”

You leaned in, planting a slow, warm kiss against his lips.

“Done deal,” you whispered.

He exhaled, threading his fingers through your hair as he kissed you again. Longer this time. Slower. A kiss that said thank you–

 I love you 

I love our kids

I love our life.

When you finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I still don’t believe this is real, sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “You. The kids. The quiet. All of it. It doesn’t feel like something I should’ve gotten to have.”

You brushed your thumb along his jaw. “You deserve every second of this, Bucky Barnes. Every messy , swee t, sleepy , pancake-filled second.”

He tilted his head and kissed your wrist. “Even when I forget my ring and get flirted with by random women in the park?”

You rolled your eyes. “Especially then. Because I get to be the one you come home to and reminded how lucky me and the kids are to call you ours.”

And you did. Every night.

He wrapped his arms around you as you settled into bed under the plush duvet.

 His hand splayed protectively over your stomach as you both listened to the quiet of the house—the hum and crackle of the baby monitor, the faint whistle of the wind outside, the creak of the old floors as they settled.

It was all love.

Not the kind that was loud or dramatic. Not the kind shouted over chaos or with empty meaning. But the kind that was built quietly, with chocolate chips , baby wraps, and whispered lullabies.

And this?

This was the kind of love Bucky Barnes had only ever dreamed of.

-end

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ mirror, mirror ~ k. bakugou

sum: mirror mirror on the wall, maybe you can show us how we fuck? in which you find yourself in front of a mirror getting a brief look at how your husband fucks you.

pairing: timeskip! husband! katsuki bakugou x wife! reader

content: 18+ mdni. p in v, slight teasing, dirty talk, marking, multiple/implied multiple orgasms, mirror sex, creampie, reader gets called princess/baby/good girl, general NSFW content, aftercare. slight anime/manga spoilers for new fans/not caught up on anime/manga.

a/n: on a roll with another post - this time an old work that was part of kinktober. padded out to feel better. feels like this is one of the better things i've wrote to date. hope you all enjoy! as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

word count: 2.2k

links: bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

To everyone out there in the world, you and your husband looked like the perfect couple, despite being polar opposites in appearance; you gelled together perfectly. Everyone comments on how perfectly you complement each other.

Anyone who was anyone wanted to be like you and your pro-hero husband, even if he had a temper to rival some of the villains he fought. A temper you'd never be on the receiving end of. The perfect married couple living in a cliché house in the middle of a rural area.

Your life was full of clichés, from waking him up to a nutritious breakfast with his hero suit ready to go, to the sweet kisses you gave him as he left the house, ready to keep the streets of Japan safe for another day.

With a sweet life, everyone had the foolish thought of every aspect of your life being vanilla, even when it came to your sex life. With how tired your husband must be from working all day, sometimes weeks at a time, he wouldn't have the energy for anything other than soft missionary.

Oh, how wrong they were - if they could see the inside of your mind, then they'd rethink their assumptions.

"Hah, Kat, so full". Letting out a whine, you gripped the sheets beneath you as your knuckles turned white. With your face pressed into the mattress, you tried desperately to anchor yourself to something as you felt yet another orgasm creeping up from your toes.

Your thighs were already numb, slowly reddening from the harsh thrusts of the man responsible for having you in this position. You could feel the numbness from the pleasure spreading down your legs; no doubt, you'd have trouble walking when he'd eventually let up.

"Fuck, does that feel good princess? Does getting fucked by my cock feel like heaven? Like you were fucking made just f'me". The obvious smugness in your husband's voice, paired with the way he was slamming his hips against you, had your jaw slack. The mushroom tip of his cock repeatedly thumping against that spongy spot deep inside had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, whimpers slipping past your swollen lips.

On a normal night, the sound of the bedframe squeaking would have blended in with the sounds both you and he made, but tonight, after a rather long day with a villain that tested him to his limits, it was nothing more than white noise compared to the noises coming from you both. "I know you're close darling, let me feel that pretty pussy milk me before I even think about filling you with my cum".

The weight on top of you shifted as you felt Bakugou's chest press against your back, large hand finding its way between your legs before the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit. Whining out again, you felt him rub circles in time with his thrusts, helping to coax you to your nth orgasm of the night.

"Please, Kats, fuck, I can't take much more". Trying your best to look at him from the corner of your eyes, you managed to make out the mass of ash-blonde hair belonging to him.

"Then let go f'me okay? I know you want to". As if on cue, you felt your legs stiffen as your fingers gripped the sheets harder, a broken cry of Bakugou's name leaving your throat as you felt that hot pleasure zap throughout your body. That one the strongest orgasm you felt of the night so far, or so you thought.

Your cunt was overly sensitive, so paired with the way Bakugou toyed with your clit, of course you were going to feel whatever you body wanted you to feel. Not that you cared, you were too drunk on pleasure to think about anything other than the cock thrusting into you at what felt like inhumane speed.

The squelching of your sopping wet cunt only added fuel to his desire for you as he pinned you down under his weight, hips rutting faster as he drew horse sobs of pleasure from your throat. You really were amazing in his eyes; you took everything he gave and more, never giving up when it became too much pleasure for you to bear.

Not long after, a moan of disappointment left your throat as you became hyper-aware of the empty feeling deep within. Letting out a shaky sigh, you began to turn before finding your movements halted, your body becoming weightless as you were picked up in strong arms.

Humming out, you looked at Bakugou with glassy eyes, tilting your head as he smiled softly at you. Opening your mouth, you tried to question what he was doing, only to be silenced by a gentle kiss that took you by surprise as he moved off towards a corner of your bedroom.

Just what was he planning?

The few steps he had taken halted, causing you to turn your head, eyes widening slightly. There staring back at you was not only your fucked out expression but your body decorated with bites and scratches from your husband. Your skin was covered with a soft sheen, making you look ethereal. "Kat, what are you doing?".

Casting your gaze at the mirror to the side slightly, you looked at the man who now stood behind you, head tilting as you observed him. A proud smirk tugged at his lips as he placed a hand on your body, fingers rolling the perky bud of your breast as you moaned softly, leaning back into his chest.

You were usually so good at reading the expressions your husband wore, but this time, he wore one you couldn't quite read.

Before you had time to register what was happening, you felt your body being hoisted, legs spread open for not only yourself, but your husband to see. To see the way your pussy clenched around nothing as some of your husband cum began to seep out. "You know, princess, I've always wanted to do this...".

Before Bakugou continued what he as going to say, you felt the mushroom tip of his cock poke at your cunt again. The way it dragged across your already sensitive folds had your head lolling back slightly, breath catching in your throat once more as he thrust up into you.

The sinful moan that slipped past your lips had him chuckling, hips thrusting up into you as he helped to bounce you on his cock. "...I've always wanted to watch every single part of you while I fuck you senseless".

Chewing on your lip, you let your head fall back against his shoulder, eyes focusing on the ceiling as he continued to thrust against the spongy spot deep inside - the new angle a welcome feeling. "Fuck, baby girl, you need to watch as well". Opening your mouth to protest, you felt your head being moved, forced to look at the image in the mirror in front of you.

Casting your eyes down, you sucked in a moan as you focused on the part where the two of you were connected as one. Where his cock was buried deep inside your pussy with every thrust he made. The sight made you tingle, heat spreading across your body as newfound confidence took over, your walls squeezing him tighter.

The new sensation around his cock had Bakugou growling out, head dropping onto your shoulder as he began to bite at the already sensitive skin on your neck. Moaning out, you tried to look away from where he was disappearing into you, tried to look a few inches to the side to your husband's figure, but you couldn't. You were entranced by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. The way your combined essence dripped down his cock, being driven deeper into your very being. "That's a good girl, baby, watch how I fuck you".

The words and praise caused you to moan out, that all too familiar feeling beginning to creep over you once more. The feeling that caused your cunt to tighten relentlessly around your husband. "Hah, Kat, I'm gonna...".

Letting out an almost guttural moan, Bakugou gripped chin and turned your face as he thrusted into your tightening cunt. Rough kisses were placed against your lips, desperate and needy as you kissed back with what you could muster, messily pouring out your love.

You could tell he was close to coming; thrusts becoming not only sloppier and needier but harder as well. The mushroom tip of his cock pressing more against the entrance to your womb. Pulling apart, you looked through glassy eyes once more, a string of saliva connecting you both. "Fuck, hah, that's it, squeeze me tighter, baby. Let me feel it while I stuff you full again".

After a few sloppy thrusts, you felt his hips press against your ass as that all too familiar warm feeling of his cum filled you. The spam of your pussy squeezed around him, milking him through his orgasm. Loud moans of pleasure sounded around the room as you arched your back, pressing yourself further into him.

Letting out a soft sigh, you turned your head and rested your forehead against Bakugou's as best you could, chests rising and falling as you panted. Lazily bringing your hand up, you ran your fingers over his cheek, humming slightly. "Look in the mirror, darling, I want you to see this".

Letting your head fall, you looked towards the mirror, down at the place where you connected just in time to see Bakugou pull his cock out of you. Still semi-hard, he twitched slightly as ropes of come connected you both briefly before breaking a few seconds later. A breathy moan of relief and tiredness sounded from you both as you felt yourself being carried back to your shared bed.

Looking up at your husband, you smiled softly and placed your hand back on his cheek. Thumb rubbed over the smooth skin as you looked into his eyes. You never failed to feel so much love for him, no matter what he was doing. The fact that he wasn't just a pro hero, but your husband, made your heart swell with pride and love.

"You know, we should do that more often, I love watching everything, and I mean everything". Your sudden response caught Bakugou by surprise, a soft smile tugged at his lips as he cupped your cheek, eyes taking in your tired and flustered face.

He didn't think you would be up for doing that again, ashamed to admit he might have been a bit selfish in wanting to do something he had wanted for a while. He had a hard time expressing himself, especially when it came to his sex life with you. You were patient enough with him, but he still felt that guilt.

"You read my mind, princess, but you know I won't do anything you're not comfortable with". His eyes softened as you nodded your head, letting a tired yawn escape. "Let me get your cleaned up, then we'll cuddle".

Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, you felt the weight on the mattress shift as Bakugou left you for a moment, returning with a cloth, bowl and towel. Dipping the material into the water, he moved your legs apart slowly, dabbing the cloth across your swollen pussy to remove the bodily fluids that were starting to dry.

Despite the rough exterior, your husband was as gentle as can be when it mattered the most. When you were cleaned up enough, you felt the mattress dip with his weight once more, a tired smile tugging at your lips and you found yourself wrapped up in both strong arms as the bed sheets.

Moving closer to your husband, you cuddle into him and placed your hand on his chest, resting it just above his heart. Your fingers resting gently on the scar he had from his teenage years. When a fight against a villain went wrong. Where his heart stopped before he was brought back to life in front of your eyes.

A sight that still haunted you every now and then to this day. "I love you, Katsuki, I'm so glad I chose you".

Red eyes glanced down at your now sleeping form. A soft smile staying on his lips as he leaned over, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. Of course, he knew how much you loved him, it was obvious to him, and everyone out there just how much you'd fallen for him.

From the shy, timid girl he first met in the hero course at U.A High, to the confident woman who was now in his arms, he never stopped loving you. Even when he thought his life had ended, even when you gripped him tightly when he was revived, not tight enough to hurt him, though. Even on the day you got married, it had always been you.

He was forever grateful that you chose him because no one else would ever get to see him like this. To see him vulnerable in such a raw way. And no one else would ever get to see this side of you, too for as long as he lived.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: when you call the tokyo debunker boys your husband.

COMMENTS: SOME FLUFF TO PALETTE CLEANSE AFTER WHTA I DID TO YGYS LAST TIME (┬┬﹏┬┬)

TAGLIST: @as1iiiwhaa @astralsocfactory

Jin raises a brow when you offhandedly call him husband, almost as though you weren’t even thinking about it. He doesn’t hate it—he rather likes it, and is in fact picturing you as his spouse with a ring on your finger. Once you step away from people, he’ll be asking you about it.

Tohma is rather smug about this, especially if you slipped up in front of someone like Kaito who vies for your attention. All too happy to slip into the roll, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, making up some bullshit excuse on the spot so he can whisk you away.

Luca gets flustered by it, shuffling his feet with a dopey grin on his face. You’re too kind to him, and much too sweet. He brings it up and asks if you meant it, clarifying that he’s your boyfriend, not your husband (yet.) Just tell him that you know, but you’re looking forward to that change. <3

Kaito, poor Kaito. If he’s eating or drinking he’s choking on whatever he’s got in his mouth and keeling over. His face is beet red and he’s shaking. Honestly, probably think he hallucinated the whole thing. Starts yelling and asks if you’re serious with tears streaming down his face...oh boy.

Alan looks stiff—a bit startled, if you look a little closer. Once the two of you are alone, he corrects you softly, saying that he isn’t your husband. If you tack on a yet to the end of his sentence, you’ll see him clench his jaw and fight back his blush. He looks unsure but that’s okay, he’ll come around soon enough.

Sho plays along with you, calling you his spouse throughout the entirety of your outing. Don’t get embarrassed  by it or else he’s going to ramp it up even more. There’s no way Sho doesn’t look more lovestick than usual after that...he really does want to marry you someday.

Leo snorts loudly before acting like he never made a noise at all. He’s another one who plays along, but he’s not giving it up ever. You said you wanted this, you said you wanted a future with him, so why should he stop? You clearly love him enough to stick around, so he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth.

Haru gets the brightest smile on his face and immediately plays along. It doesn’t matter who else is there, he will shower you with pet names and compliments. Once the two of you are alone, he’ll ask you what kind of ring would look best on the two of you. Don’t expect to live this down!

Towa will take this seriously, so I hope you’re prepared. He’ll even go so far as to leave your side immediately and come back with a dandelion ring he wove himself. He looks so happy the rest of day, and will not be very happy if you were joking. He hates liars, you know?

Ren nearly chokes on his spit, cheeks flaring red as he shoots a glare at you. It holds no malice, but you should know not to say stuff like that! What if you slipped up with a guy who got the wrong idea? ...What do you mean you want him to get the wrong idea!?

Taiga initially gets confused, opening his mouth to correct you before his mind snaps to attention. Oh, so that’s the game you’re playing, kitty cat. He can play along. Assuming you don't leave his sight (and he doesn't’ forget you) he’ll be teasing you about your little “slip up” the whole day.

Romeo is genuinely caught off guard by this, and if you look, you can see his cheeks turning pink. Starts yelling almost immediately, being all “what do you think you’re doing you BB!?” Yeah he causes a scene. The rest of the day is spent with a very flustered Romeo grumbling about how you would be honored to marry someone like him...stay with him forever...GRAH!

Ritsu blinks, his mind lagging for a second before he continues the conversation as though nothing happened. The second you’re away from prying eyes he’s rounding on you, asking for clarification with his voice recorder in hand, saying he caught what you said. Don’t bother denying it! If you don’t deny it, and just tell him that he’d make a good husband, he’ll get all flustered and blue screen for real this time.

Subaru gasps softly, his eyes going wide. The blush on his cheeks tells you that he very much enjoys it, even though he looks like he wants to sink into the floor and never return. It’s even worse if you call him that in front of Zenji and/or Haku, they are never going to let him live that down! Please have mercy, he’s already in love with you.

Haku slips into the role of your husband far too easily. Like, the second the name leaves your lips, he’s all “oh well, I guess I’m husband now.” He is ready and willing! Catch him shopping for rings! And now every time you walk by a jewelry store, he’s going to lean over and ask you which one you want.

Zenji presses a hand over his heart when you call him that in front of Haku and Subaru. He’s so touched that you continue to interact with him and cherish the man that he is, even if he’s far from normal. If you asked for it, and if he was still a man you could spend your life with, he would give you the world and more—all you’d have to do is tell him how you wanted it.

Edward pretends he doesn’t notice, yawning just to get you annoyed. If you say it a little louder he might stifle a laugh, especially if you’re saying it in front of someone like Rui. My my, you are a bold one. No wonder he’s taken such a liking to you. If you really want to be his spouse, he can arrange that...with a bite.

Rui is already perfect house husband material, there’s no need for you to beat around the bush. H’e s a bit flattered you want to rush things, though! Catch him blushing like a schoolgirl at the thought of you and him at the altar. Give him a break for being a sap, it’s not like he ever thought he’d have that kind of future before you!

Lyca blushes for a completely different reason. He’s actually really embarrassed that you would call him that, but it means you know you can rely on him, right? It doesn’t matter how public the two of you are right now, he is going to ask you for clarification with a noticeable excitement in his voice.

Yuri sputters, adjusting his tie to distract from how sweaty he gets from the sugary sweetness of your voice. How could you say something like that so casually? How could you even think something like that!? At least wait until he’s a fully established doctor in the field of ghoul research so he can take care of you—! No, he hasn’t thought about it!

Jiro blinks at you before calling your ass out. “We are not married yet, why did you call me that?” You can laugh and say that it just feels right, to which he’ll crack a small smile. Jiro is noticeably soft when it comes to you, as I’m sure you know—he’ll do anything to see you happy, especially if it means being yours.

[homunculus-argument]

Well, here we go:

It was raining heavily, bad visibility, I was riding my bike through the rain after riding all the way to a place that I really needed to go to, only to find a note on the door saying "we're closed lol" and I was fuming with rage already, and figured I can cross this road just in time to zip past this big van that was approaching the crossing. Bonk! And the next thing I know I'm sitting on the pavement, bruised but otherwise just fine. The car's windshield is cracked from where my skull made impact. And the driver, a girl who must've been like 18 and just got her lisence, was crying hysterically. Honestly I hurt her way, way worse than she hurt me, and I told her that. Her dad was riding shotgun, and decided to call 112 just to be responsible. Police showed up and I explained it was my fault, and we got a weewoo ride to the hospital just to make sure nobody was hurt. The driver was so distressed that they took her too. So we rode in the same ambulance while I tried to reassure her that nothing bad had happened, it was okay. Once they got me checked up at the hospital and agreed that I was just bruised, they let me see the driver too, who had calmed down a lot more (both her parents were with her now), and I promised her I was okay, she didn't do anything wrong, I had been the one who was wrong and I hadn't even been actually hurt.

This girl belonged to the band of drinking buddies I met when I first moved into this town, and her parents were the startlingly chill "we'd rather know where you're drinking and have you do it somewhere safe"-type, so inviting her friends to come over to get drunk while her mom and stepdad were also at home having their friday night beers wasn't odd. I'm somewhat of a golden retriever puppy when I'm a specific type of drunk, I love everyone and then throw up on you. So meeting this friend's mom I was straight-up in tears of joy like "omg your daughter is such a sweet and wonderful good nice and thoughtful kind person thank u for making her exist" and she, also drunk, also teared up like "omg I know I could not have asked for a better daughter I can't" and so were crying and hugging each other over just how nice and sweet and wonderful her daughter is.

My aunt legit forgot that her brother's children count as family. I had pastel pink hair at a time, which I dyed back to my natural colour for the sake of being presentable at the funeral, and my mother - who watched me do that and said nothing - only told me that the funeral had already happened and we weren't invited after watching me ruin the impossible-to-obtain pastel hair colour for nothing. She could've told me that 30 minutes earlier, but I think she let me do it just because she hated the colour.

After I didn't get into any of the college options I applied for, I decided to kill myself rather than spend a gap year living with my family doing nothing. After the specific date I planned to do it, some online friends raised hell over trying to figure out whether I was dead or alive, while I was completely offline in a psych ward. A guy from Kentucky with a penchance for drama, theatrics and tendency to make unspeakably bad life choices, got emotionally invested and distraught over some 19-year-old girl from Europe that he'd never met being dead, and wrote me a long letter lamenting about how grieved he is that I'm dead and he never met me and that he knows I'll never read it or reply to him. Well, I did, and we started talking. At the time I thought that nobody would ever want me, so I figured that this guy is the only one who ever will, so it's either life with him or dying alone. We broke up when I decided that dying alone could not possibly suck as bad as being stuck married to this guy.

I wasn't vaping indoors, it was outdoor seating at a tourist bar in Spain. Some drunk british hag somehow got it into her head that I had been trying to lure her husband. I was fully presenting male at the time, had had difficulties purchasing alcohol earlier because some bartenders would not believe that my teen boy looking ass trying to purchase a beer with an adult woman's passport for ID was legit. This did not stop this old bag from jumping to the conclusion that I was a sex worker trying to offer services to her husband, and decided to retaliate with violence. Her husband just stood there and calmly watched her go apeshit on a stranger, and all three of us were removed from the premises. The next time I tried to show up to that place again, I was told that they're no longer serving me there because of the incident.

Back in the day H&M was selling these kids' halloween onesies that were black with a skeleton print - including a skull on both sides of the hood - and being just a hair under 170 cm I fit into their largest kids' sizes so I naturally got one. I worked at a cold storage warehouse at the time so I wore it to work every day for convenience. One time I was driving home from work, and it was a bright sunny day so I pulled my hood up. Being a bit past 2 pm on an ordinary weekday, there was zero reason why there would've been cops just doing random breathalyzer tests, so I was baffled about what the hell I was getting pulled over for. They didn't explan why they were there, but they did ask me where I was coming from, why was I dressed like that, and asked me to do the test. After explaining my situation and blowing 0.000% on the breathalyzer, they let me go.

That one time when I was studying to become a nurse (I thought I'd have what it takes to become a paramedic, and at the time this was a middle step towards it), I had two training periods in a nursing home. On the second round, there was a new resident, a woman who had her 102nd birthday when I was there. She had been a widow almost all her life - her husband had been shot by the Soviets in the Continuation War, somewhere between 1941 and 1944, and she never remarried.

I didn't consciously start wearing hats as some sort of a deliberate expression of rebellion from my family, and my therapist actually believed that I could peacefully negotiate my family to respect my boundaries, but gaining the confidence to start wearing clothes that I liked was what made it clear that my family would hate any expression of independence or individuality that I would try. I had never tried to "be myself" and allow myself to look quirky or stand out before, and my family made it very clear that standing out as a distinct individual was unacceptable. So, having to choose between having my family in my life or wearing hats that made me happy, I chose the hats.

My mom got her first Bald Idiot Dog because she was friends with the breeder, and one idiot couple who learned the hard way that they can't handle having an idiot dog that can't be domesticated had returned him to the breeder. The breeder was upset because a return dog would most likely have to be put down because that breed is a fucking nightmare, so mom offered to take him. Being a pedigree champion chief idiot, her dog was still an excellent specimen of his breed, and this one time our family took a road trip all the way from Finland to Paris to display both mom's dog, and mom's dog's aunt (who still belonged to the breeder) at an international dog show. They were both agreed to be excellent specimen of Bald Idiot Dog.

[lalaluna20]

hey babe, we need more cc pure angst😔🙏🏻

Not fair

Caitlin Clark x reader word count: 1,361 warnings: angst, hate comments, mental breakdowns.

You and Caitlin have been dating since sophomore year at Iowa. It was awesome, you guys had a great friendship and even better relationship. You two just meshed so well together. Your relationship was extremely serious, you both met each other’s families and we’re planning on getting married after her 3rd or 4th year in the W.

You remember the day Kate had posted Claire on her instagram story. You were so incredibly happy for them and proud of Kate. A part of you hoped maybe one day you and Caitlin could do that. You knew the two of you would probably have to wait until you guys were married or something due to how crazy the internet is.

But nothing, absolutely nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Headline: CAITLIN CLARK HAS A GIRLFRIEND

Headlines of the short were everywhere, photos, videos, everything was there. You don’t even know how they got access to it, all your socials are private, besides one insta account, but you’ve never posted caitlin in it, it makes zero sense how anyone had access to it. The photos and videos are cute and sweet, like the ones you would find on the cute wlw insta reels. Yea that type of sweet, which probably made it even worse.

One second you were looking at headlines, the next moment your phone was blowing up with messages, dms and follow requests. It was so much that your phone started to overheat in your hand. promptly making you turn it off.

For the longest time you tried ignoring them. But they never left.

”she’s so ugly” ”what does caitlin even see in her?” ”this is an actual joke, i’m literally so much better than her, yet this is who caitlin chooses??” ”at least she’s winning on the court, such a shame.”

It hurt, every single one of them. Even instagram had to take down certain comments with many calling you the d-slur, f-slur and so many other nasty things.

Caitlin stuck by you the entire time. She made statements both on her account and on the indiana fever account, having her team take legal action against people who harassed you or threatened you. But most of all, she comforted and reassured you. Every night after practice or afternoon games she would be there for you. Greeting you at the door, making you food, cuddling and holding you, no matter how exhausted she was. She would tell you how proud she was of you and how much she loves you. Her words were always able to numb the pain of the hateful words.

It’s been a couple of months since your relationship got exposed. At first you thought the hate would die out after a couple of weeks. I mean, it’s not that serious… right? But god were you wrong. The hate was still coming in, stronger and harsher than ever. Even worse, Caitlin was no longer here to comfort you either. The fever were now on their “away game tour” leaving you home alone, to deal with it your self. At least you still have Colin, but he could only comfort you so much.

You didn’t want to do it, but you didn’t know how much longer you could take this.

Caitlin had gotten back from the away game tour a few days ago. Of course you were happy to see her. But she could tell something was off. “how have you been holding up?” Caitlin asks, kissing the top of your head. “fine, just busy with work.” You say looking at your laptop, sounding oddly distant. Caitlin automatically noticed, yet didn’t comment. “okay” she says softly rubbing your back. “let me know if you need anything, dinner will be ready in 10 minutes.” She says gently, with a gentleness reserved for you. Yet you only respond with a cold, dismissive nod.

After you finished your work, you and caitlin headed to bed. “Baby,” caitlin states in a soft serious tone. as you change into your pajamas. “I can tell something up, talk to me.”

As you finish up changing, you turn to face her, your eyes looking away from hers. “i can’t do this anymore.” Her eyes widen, she knows what you’re implying, but god she didn’t want to accept it. She thought she has been doing a good job of keeping them from you, she thought she was doing a good job at reassuring you, making sure that the words wouldn’t affect you. “What?” was all Caitlin was able to mutter out, getting out of bed and walking towards you. Wanting to hold you and reassure you, reassure you of her love, her comfort, she wanted to hold you, hold you until all the affect of the hate went away. “i can’t do this caitlin, i can’t handle the hate anymore. I’m tired, i’m so tired. no matter how hard i ignore it, it’s just back the next day. I I can’t do it anymore, i can’t do this anymore.” You’re starting to cry, wrapping your arms around yourself, moving away from caitlin to create distance. As too caitlin was also crying, tears stinging her face as they stream down, watching the person she loves with all her heart break down in front of her. watching your eyes that refuse to meet hers, shine and glisten due to tears. “We can work through this… we always do.” Caitlin mutters desperately, trying to take your hands in hers.

The rest of the night was a blur, hell the next two weeks were a blur. You moved out, moving in with some friends who promised caitlin they would take care of you. Caitlin wasn’t herself either, the first few days she couldn’t get herself out of her apartment. Colin letting her cry it out while watching her favorite movies as comfort. Anne and Brent coming to Indiana to comfort her. Brent was able to get caitlin out of the house again, getting her to play some basketball with him. None of them blamed you, or hated you. Although they would never directly understand, they understood why you did it. A part of them hoped, maybe, just maybe you’ll come back. Like take a break, realize how much you and Caitlin need each other and then live happily, but they knew that was wishful thinking.

It’s been two weeks, Caitlin is laying in bed, looking at photos of the two of you. She didn’t know why she was doing this, why she always did this. But she just wanted you back, she wanted you to be in her arms again, wanted to feel you next to her again. But here she lies alone.

She doesn’t know why she did this, why she posted this. its unprofessional, hell even mean to do this to you.

Instagram: @caitlinclark22 just posted

It was 20 photos and videos of the two of you. With a rather heartbreaking caption to anyone who has a heart, yes even to the delusional ones.

“You did it, first you guys exposed my relationship. Then you guys went to bully and harass my girlfriend. For months you guys relentlessly sent hate comments, death threats, and other threatening messages to my girlfriend. For months she did everything in her power to ignore them, to not let them affect her. But you guys didn’t stop, they never stopped, every day, morning to night she would just find new comments and threats. Then finally you guys did it, you guys broke the smartest, strongest most loving person alive. Two weeks ago on Saturday July 12th, my girlfriend of 5 years broke up with me after relentless hate. Hoping this way you guys will finally give her a break. I hope you guys are really fucking proud of yourselves, because you’ve just ruined the best thing in my life. And to my dear [your name], if you’re reading this. I’m sorry for everything i put you through. I hope one day you can forgive me. Just know I’ll always love you and i’ll wait for you, not matter what or how long.”

taglist<3 @ashortyluvsports, @sweetbcgs, @salemsuccss, @laurenmcucm, @aucsia,

i hope you enjoy!

-love luna

[lady-lani-1707]

Hey again, gyns.

I saw a post about some black pill radfems saying that essentially "foids" who choose to be around men are completely to blame and should expect violence. That we shouldn't worry or have empathy for women who choose to be around men.

Let me just stop you there.

Let's not forget that the majority of the world does not have women's rights. That means the women who live there are completely under the thumb of their husbands and other men who own all the wealth and can legally abuse their wives or rape them. In some places, you can even kidnap yourself a wife.

Of course!

Of course, women have to become delusional.

They make excuses for men's awful behaviour. They blindly follow religion and believe there is something after death that's going to make this hell they face all better.

Of course, they repress their emotions and distract themselves into loops of childcare, only hanging out with other mothers who understand that sheer burden. They proceed to brush off as their "job" so they can feel less upset about it.

These women are DYING, rotting from the inside out from the sheer zoochosis of being a sentient intelligent animal forced into a life of dull monotonity and the hellscape that is the household.

All for being born female.

Literally and socially held at chains to their master-husbands who breathe down their necks at all times and never let them do anything without 20 different valid reasons.

Like security, these men hold their daughters, their sisters, their wives, and all the women in their lives are kept under strict watch and scolded like children for breaking social norms or doing anything deemed wrong.

You can be KILLED.

THINK about that ACTUALLY.

KILLED for having a boyfriend or not being a virgin in some muslim countries.

Honour killed, YOUR OWN FAMILY KILLS YOU FOR THE 'SHAME' OF NOT BEING 'PURE'!!

Imagine, the privilege of living in one of the few countries, of which there's only about 14 out of 195 countries. That means less than 1 percent of the world, 0.07% has full womens rights.

But how DARE you blame the women!

Yes, they don't want to change, but that's because they've seen time and time again what happens if you try to change.

How can conceptualise women's rights when you live in a place where women get ACID thrown in your face for divorce?

How can you want women's rights when you have NO CHOICE in marriage?

How can you understand women are people when you are raised on the so called fact that men are closer to God and more superior than you just for being born male?

You can't.

Blame the men who uphold these systems who abuse women and girls.

Who go unpunished, unbeaten, unconfronted.

Never blame the women, when they are coping in the best way they can.

Misogyny is holding women hostage.

Don't you understand that as a group, men fit the exact description of terrorists? They use intentional violence and fear to achieve political or ideological aims to keep women in their place to exploit us.

They bring nothing but danger and stress to most women globally and yet you blame the WOMEN for being sucessptable to brainwashing and having delusional coping methods to ignore the reality they are married and giving birth to future abusers?

We are human too, which means that of course of you raise a little girl telling her she is inferior to her male counterparts she will internalised that all her life.

Blame the men who perpetuate this cycle of female exploitation, not the women who did nothing wrong but be born female.

Don't loose your empathy for other women and girls, don't be like the men.

It's up to us to spread awareness, to help even if they don't want it right now. We have to be there when they need it, we have to have an option for them.

We can save the female class, but only if we never loose empathy and genuinely want the best for one another.

Some women are against us.

But if we win, we all win.

- Lani, your lady

[redtsundere-writes]

Date 5. Trying Something New

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soldier!Reader

Beginning. 🡨 Previous | Next 🡪

Summary: You just want to help Ghost to stop harming himself… These aren't dates, okay?

Word Count: 3681 words.

TW: MDNI. +18. Self-harm. Smut. Possessiveness and Jealousy.

A year earlier.

Soap woke up on the wrong foot that morning. He complained about the cafeteria food, almost fell in the shower due to a stray bar of soap, and now he was struggling to do the reps he always did. He yelled in frustration as he lifted the weight that nearly crushed his chest, drawing the attention of some soldiers in the gym. Gaz tried not to laugh as he assisted him. Ghost shook his head in disappointment at his partner as he lifted hand weights in front of the mirror.

“What the hell is wrong with me?!” Soap yelled, annoyed, sitting down on the stretcher.

“You really need to fuck,” Gaz joked, patting him on the back to cheer him up.

“Hope God hears ya, mate. Price's been taking on missions like we're the Avengers.” Soap sighed before placing his hands in prayer. “I want to have a little more social life! I want a girlfriend, to settle down, to get married, to have kids! Why is it so difficult?”

“Amen.” Gaz joined in.

“We accept those missions because they're important, Johnny,” Ghost reminded him.

“No offense, Lieutenant, but shut up. You're only saying that because you'll always be a grumpy, carefree bachelor. Some people really want a beautiful wife waiting for them at home,” the captain replied.

Ghost knew he was right. He was already in his forties and still adamant about not wanting to get married. He'd tried relationships in the past, and they all failed because of his dry personality or his long work shifts. Ghost wasn't husband material, and he came to terms with that a long time ago.

“God, all I ask is that you give me a beautiful, intelligent, faithful woman who looks sexy when she's angry.” Soap prayed, to which Gaz scoffed.

Whistling broke out in the gym. The three soldiers looked toward the entrance to see what it was about. A woman in a military uniform that hugged her muscles and a black cap that sat uncomfortably on her head. Analyzing eyes, a confident stride, and small sections of hair highlighting your beautiful features. Gaz gaped open next to half the half-naked men in the gym. Soap rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing a beautiful mirage. Your beauty, presence, and attitude were everything he'd ever asked for in his dream woman. He confirmed it was love at first sight as soon as your eyes met; he felt it in his racing heart. God sure works in strange ways.

Soap thought nothing could unnerve him anymore, being a sergeant, but as soon as your eyes scanned him from head to toe, he nearly fainted from excitement. Of all the men in the gym, you'd seen him. Not Gaz, not Ghost, no, just him. The butterflies in his stomach turned into wild hawks as soon as you started walking toward him. Soap froze with nerves, Gaz quickly pretended to look for his water bottle to hide the fact that he hadn't noticed you, while Ghost… couldn't understand why his colleagues were acting like real clumsy apes. This was a woman, not an alien.

“You must be Sergeant MacTavish. Captain Price told me about you,” you said as you approached. “She knows my name!” Soap thought ecstatically.

“That's me.” He interrupted himself to clear his throat from his nerves. “I'm Sergeant John MacTavish, but some call me Soap. Although you can call me… anytime,” he flirted in the best deep voice he could, crossing his arms to show off his biceps. Ghost looked at the sergeant in confusion. You sighed in disappointment.

“I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that.” You cut him off with a simple sentence, but without being rude. Gaz almost spit out the water he was drinking at the quick rejection. “I'm looking for Captain Price. I was supposed to meet him later, but I arrived earlier than expected. I heard he might be around.” You checked the black watch on your wrist.

Soap smiled at the rejection. You were hard to please, a real challenge, an enigma behind a pretty face. Just his type. As he got closer, he got a better look. The hat on your head looked like some kind of mask, you had a rather heavy suitcase hanging off your shoulder, and most importantly, you didn't have an engagement ring. After taking a long time to reply, Gaz answered:

 “He left a while ago. He usually showers and then goes to his office. You can wait for him there.”

“Where's his office?” you asked, scrutinizing the dark-haired boy from head to toe. He seemed nicer than the sergeant.

“Two blocks south, in a three-story building. Ask the receptionist for him,” Gaz explained, signaling his hand in the right direction.

You turned your body in the indicated direction and met Ghost's analyzing gaze. The mask might have hidden his expression, but his brown eyes spoke volumes: He didn't trust you. You both looked at each other at the same time. Head, torso, hands, legs, feet, and position. It seemed you shared a bad habit.

“Thank you,” you said to Gaz before retreating the way you'd come in.

Soap could finally breathe once you were far enough away to be out of earshot. “Thank you, God. You've always been so good to me.” 

“At what God are you praying to? I think I'm praying to the wrong one,” Gaz said to Soap, still staring at your back.

Ghost followed your steps with his eyes until you finally left the gym. He thought about how you looked at each other at the same time, as if you could read their minds. It was like you'd met before, but not in this life. It was strange, but he simply pushed the thought away and returned to his workout.

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After finishing the day's training, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost were on their way to eat at one of the few cafeterias on the base when Gaz received a call from Captain Price, requesting the three men's presence in his office immediately, which they quickly complied with.

Soap opened the door to Price's office and smiled when he saw you standing at the desk. You turned to look at the men curiously. From the small interaction you'd had in the gym, you already knew what kind of men the ones standing in front of you were. 

Soap seemed to be one of those soldiers who never shut up and had inappropriate relationships with the base's nurses. The dark-skinned man, despite being immediately attracted to you, was quieter and more attentive, a good-natured person in general. And then there was the one with the mask… That guy was dangerous, you could feel it in your bones with every step he took toward you. It would be best not to speak to him too much. The three soldiers walked inside and approached the desk, Soap making sure to stand next to you.

“This is Lieutenant T/n Russ. Starting today, she'll be part of the 141st. I'm counting on you to help her acclimate to the base.” Captain Price introduced them. “Lieutenant, this is Lieutenant Simon Riley, Sergeant Kyle Garrick, and…”

“Soap,” you interrupted.

“Have you met already?” Price asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

“We met a while ago at the gym,” Soap clarified with a flirtatious smile.

“Perfect.” Price nodded before turning to the three men. “Here's the situation. Lieutenant Russ is now officially part of the Task Force, but she'll be on probation for a year to ensure she's a good fit for the team.” The three men were puzzled by the situation. 

When a new member joins Task Force 141, protocol dictates that they undergo a test to validate that they're a suitable candidate for missions, then go through specialized training, and finally, they're assigned a division. But Price had decided that procedure wasn't suitable this time.

“That's because she was transferred to this team due to… certain disturbances at her last base, so I'm going to need one of you to supervise her for a year.”

“Certain disturbances?” Ghost glanced at you. 

Your hand tightened the drawstring on your backpack, remembering the disturbance. It couldn't have been pleasant. Now a new doubt had arisen: Were you the victim of the riots or the causer? This whole situation left a sour taste in his mouth. In the other hand, Soap didn't care about that detail in the least; his eyes just sparkled at the opportunity to spend more time with you.

“Ghost, you're in charge,” Price ordered.

“What?!” Ghost and Soap exclaimed simultaneously. Gaz tried to contain his laughter, but couldn't.

“Why Ghost? I'm the one in charge of training the rookies,” Soap asked, offended.

“Because Laswell assured me she didn't need to be trained for the position,” Price replied. The three soldiers glanced at you, curious to know how much Laswell knew about you.

“I don't want to play babysitter,” Ghost complained.

“You're not going to babysit her, I just need you to keep an eye on her to make sure she adapts well,” Price explained.

“And why me? I'm sure Soap or Gaz would do a better job,” Ghost inquired.

“I agree. I'd do a better job.” Soap stepped forward with some excitement.

“I wouldn't mind taking the position,” Gaz grinned. Soap glared at him for trying to take away his once-in-a-lifetime chance to finally land a nice girlfriend.

“Her supervisor will be Ghost, period,” Price dictated.

“Oh, come on, Price. Are you really going to leave the new girl in the hands of someone who’s easily fashed?” Soap tried to persuade him. The captain held his forehead, beginning to run out of excuses.

“Do you really want to know why I don't have you as supervisors?” Price asked, praying they'd say no, but they ended up nodding. The captain exhaled deeply and pointed his finger at Soap. “You're going to fuck her, Gaz is going to fuck her, and Ghost is 50/50.”

The three soldiers were stunned at that accusation, while you rolled your eyes. You expected something like that, considering the men on this base seemed to ogle you because they had little physical contact with women.

“50/50?” Ghost asked, offended that he was considered a pervert like his colleagues.

“It would be 0 if you didn't have a penis,” Price replied sternly to stop him from continuing the conversation. “Now, please take the lieutenant back to the barracks so she can get used to it,” the captain ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Ghost mumbled.

“Welcome to the team, Lieutenant Russ.” Price stood up from his seat to shake your hand.

“Thank you for having me. I won't let you down,” you said with a handshake. You grabbed your things to follow Ghost, but Gaz's voice stopped you.

“Hey, a word of advice, don't choose Ghost's bunk,” he warned you.

“He's right. The lieutenant snores like a tractor with a hangover.” Soap agreed. Price nodded in agreement. “Better choose my bunk, take the bottom one so you're comfortable,” he continued in a flirtatious tone, to which Ghost rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for the advice.” You smiled at everyone. “Now can I give you some advice, Soap?”

“Any advice you want.” Soap returned your pearly smile.

His heart raced like a locomotive again as soon as you walked toward him. You pulled him into a half-hug over one of his shoulders, leaning closer to his ear. Your subtle vanilla scent tickled his nose. Your chest brushed against his arm. You were tempting him, and you knew it perfectly well.

“Women smell desperation from a mile away, Sergeant,” you whispered in his ear.

Soap nearly melted at the feel of your warm breath on his ear. You gently pushed him away from his chest, leaving an invisible mark where you touched him before following Ghost toward the barracks. Soap touched where you'd touched him as if he'd been a ghost.

“That woman is going to kill me.” He sighed.

“You're right.” Gaz imitated him.

“You horny bastards,” Price scolded them before throwing a pen at them to snap them out of their lovelorn trance.

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You silently followed your new supervisor. As his appearance suggested, he didn't seem like a very outgoing man. You liked to chat from time to time, but this time, you chose to stay quiet so as not to bother him more than he already was. You entered a two-story building, the barracks. Ghost gave you a brief tour of the reception, the cleaning shed, the offices, the dining hall, and then you went up to the second floor, which had a more masculine feel.

“This is the common room,” Ghost commented.

It was a long area with several entertainment stations. There was a foosball table, a ping-pong table, a few screens with video game consoles, and a bar with mugs designated for each soldier. You approached it with some curiosity to check out the bottles they had. A honey-colored bottle with a blue label caught your eye.

“Macallan. Wonderful Scotch whiskey,” you commented as you inspected the bottle.

“Soap brought it,” Ghost commented.

“Why am I not surprised?” you said sarcastically, returning the bottle to its place.

You looked at the bottles with a certain nostalgia. A rueful nostalgia. That kind of feeling that reminds you of a false happiness that only existed to cover a wound so large it couldn't heal on its own. Ghost's heavy gaze was once again on you. Even though he didn't want to play babysitter, Price had given the order, so he had to do his job well. He was prepared to watch you like a hawk. You looked back at him, letting him know that you understood the position he was in.

“Don't worry, I won't give you any trouble,” you told him as you left the bar. “If you don't give me any either.”

Ghost smiled offendedly under his mask. Even though it seemed to be a truce in the awkward situation they were in, he knew it was a threat. Even though there's a lot of talk in the military about camaraderie and loyalty, there was always the odd idiot who likes to watch the world burn.

“Don't worry. I don't have time to waste with you,” Ghost replied before returning to the tour.

You didn't know Ghost at all, but you were starting to like him. Like Price, he didn't seem to be the type of man who would try to pick you up every chance he got. He was busy and focused, just like you.

Ghost continued the tour toward the restrooms. It was an area divided into lockers and a large room with exposed showers. There wasn't a single privacy curtain in sight.

“So where do the women shower?” you asked worriedly.

“Let's just say it's an inclusive restroom,” Ghost commented before continuing on his way to avoid a complaint.

“Fucking hell…” you muttered to yourself, resigned.

The tour ended in the living quarters. 10 bunk beds lined up in two rows. Ghost indicated which beds were free: the bottom bunk of Soap's bunk, the top bunk of Gaz's bunk, or Ghost's top bunk, which was at the back of the room by the window. You debated the pros and cons of each option. Ghost could see it in your eyes.

“About what Soap said…” You looked at him, curious about what he was about to confess. “He's exaggerating; I don't snore that loudly.”

“I figured,” you commented before walking to the bunk you'd be sharing with Ghost.

You chose that bunk for two reasons: One, to get away from Soap and Gaz. And two, to make Ghost's job easier. You jumped up onto the bed and looked out the window; from there, you could see the street and some gray warehouses. It wasn't the best view, but it was better than nothing.

“I think that would be it. Welcome to 141.” Ghost dismissed you before finally returning to his business.

“Hey, Ghost, can I call you that, or would you prefer me to call you…”

“Ghost is fine,” he interrupted without stopping.

You followed him with your eyes until he disappeared through the door. You smiled to yourself before returning your gaze to the window. It was a miracle you'd been accepted into a base where no one knew you. You could start over, explore unknown places, and get away from what had plagued your mind for the past few years.

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Your first day at the base had been pretty normal. You'd unpacked your suitcase in your designated locker, replaced your uniform with something more comfortable, and made your bed with some fresh sheets and a butterfly blanket your father had given you for Christmas before he passed away. Everything seemed fine… Too fine.

Something bad was about to happen.

After dinner, you went upstairs to find something to entertain yourself with in the common room. There, you ran into Gaz and some other kids from the team.

“It's not personal,” he warned you before putting a black bag over your head.

You were cruelly ambushed. You tried to defend yourself and get the bag out, but the other men grabbed your arms and legs to immobilize you. They then lifted you up to take you to who knows where. You yelled vulgarities while aggressively trying to pull away your limps to break free, but nothing worked.

They forced you to sit in a chair and then removed the bag from over your head. You blinked a few times to adjust to the light falling solely on you. You squinted to focus on all the members of the 141 who were in the darkness. They smiled, excited by the approaching spectacle. Soap congratulated Gaz for successfully capturing you. Price led the group as always, taking a step forward, so everyone could see him better.

“More than weapons, more than strategy, trust is the greatest strength on this team. On the battlefield, there's no time for doubt. We must know, without a second thought, that the comrade at our side will be there when we need him.” Price explained, not only to you, but to the rest of the team. “However, trust is earned with effort, discipline, and loyalty.”

You clenched your jaw at his words. You knew a thing or two about trust, how hard it was to gain it and how easy it was to lose it. You knew what it felt like to trust blindly only to be attacked from behind. Your chest tightened as you remembered the looks on your teammates' faces when they realized you had completely abandoned them when you jumped out of that plane.

“The real question is: are you willing to trust this team, Lieutenant?” Price asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Laswell had surely mentioned your military history to Price, which was why he was asking you. You looked around at your teammates. You could only recognize Soap and Gaz standing behind Price, but you didn't see Ghost anywhere. You had lost trust in your former teammates, but they were no longer on this earth to know that. If you'd returned to this job, it was because you were willing to try again.

“Yes, sir,” you answered honestly. Price smiled in agreement before taking a pair of scissors out of his back pocket.

“Prove it.”

He approached you, took a strand of your hair, and cut it, letting it fall to the floor. One by one, your new colleagues approached you to cut a strand of your hair. Some cut more than others, leaving your hair uneven. It reminded you of when your older brother, Keegan, used to cut your hair to save some money. The first few cuts had been horrible, but he learned as he went. If there was anyone you trusted implicitly, it was him.

Gaz then approached you to cut a large strand of hair and pat you on the shoulder. Soap only cut an inch off your hair with a sweet smile. One after another, they went by until they left you with the worst haircut you'd ever had in your life.

I thought everyone had passed until you saw Ghost standing in front of you. He brushed your hair forward with his rough fingers, your uneven strands hanging in front of your eyes. Ghost cut your bangs with his best skills, thinning out the remaining stray hairs.

“Trust lies in the fact that we will only use the weapons at our disposal to protect you and save lives,” Ghost reminded you.

In the blink of an eye, he took the scissors and pressed the blade against your neck. With a gasp, you grabbed his wrist in reaction to how quickly he tried to hurt you. His eyes under the balaclava were cold, distant. He didn't care about you in the slightest. He didn't have to. He didn't know you at all, so he owed you no genuine loyalty. You were just another coworker. Soap tried to intervene when he saw what was happening, but Price stopped him.

“The weapons we have at our disposal can always be used against you.” Ghost released you after that threat, so you slowly let go, still watching his hands.

Ghost returned the scissors to Price, and he stepped back forward. Ghost returned to the darkness, leaving the rest of the team quietly discussing what had just happened. He pressed his back against the wall and crossed his arms. If he was going to be your supervisor for a year, he had to make it clear he wasn't playing around. One false step, and he'd make sure you never set foot on the base again.

“I want you to look around you now. This is your new family, whom you must protect and care for. Because as long as you trust us, you'll never be alone. Understood?” Price explained.

“Yes, sir.”

“Welcome to Task Force 141, kid.” Price finished his speech, to which the entire team applauded.

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Thanks for reading! <3

[authorjielin]

Nothing tests your limits like a brutal hike while on your period—with only a flimsy pad between you and utter disaster—and a ruthless, dangerously sexy Captain whose glare cuts sharper than any blade. The pain is fierce, unforgiving, and beneath her clothes, a crimson storm is raging...

"I..." she started, then froze. Her brain scrambled for an answer. A lie. A distraction. A half-truth. Something. Did she play it cool? Pretend nothing was wrong? Or go for drama and pray for mercy?

Would they let her off the hook if she told them she had explosive diarrhea?

Her eyes flicked toward the latrines in the distance, then back to Tom.

“I think I—uh—I might’ve eaten something bad,” she muttered, throwing in a queasy grimace for good measure. “Stomach’s kind of... on fire.”

Tom blinked. “You’re saying you’ve got the shits?”

Jenny nodded solemnly, clutching her gut like she was living a scene from Saving Private Ryan: The Gastrointestinal Edition.

There was a long pause. Tom looked mildly horrified.

“I mean... damn. Want me to tell Price?”

Jenny's eyes widened in panic. She shook her head sharply, the motion jerky under the weight of the pack.

"No," she hissed. "Only if you see me actually dying. Like—collapsing, foaming at the mouth, last rites level of dying. Otherwise, you say nothing to him."

Tom blinked again, clearly trying to decide whether she was serious.

Then she added, voice low and deadly serious, “And please—please—if something does happen… don’t look at my pants. Just light me on fire. Right there. No hesitation.”

Tom stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Jesus, James—what the hell did you eat?”

She didn’t answer. Just gritted her teeth, yanked the pack straps tighter like she was preparing for war, and stared straight ahead.

It’s called a period, Tom, she thought bitterly. A monthly horror show where my uterus tries to assassinate me for not getting knocked up. Nothing personal.

From Chapter 7: Blood, Sweat, and Oh God, More Blood

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65415928/chapters/168588505

[not-delusional-at-all]

Pssst....Simon absolutely asks Soap to be best man at his wedding to his SO. Price is officiating. Gaz is scattering flower petals.

You and Simon had been together for a few years before he finally popped the question. He made sure it was perfect when he did. He made sure you looked nice, he told you to go get your hair fixed up for a special occasion that involved pictures.

He didn't seem like a very sentimental person but when it came to you, he would move the earth and the moon to make sure you knew you were special to him and that he loved you so very much.

He wanted to make sure that when he proposed, he encased it in time. He hired a photographer to capture the moment he popped the question, to catch your raw reaction to the question and hopefully you saying 'yes' (P.S. you did). He told you to wear something nice, to get your hair done, etc. and he brought you out to the forest.

You were confused why you needed to look nice to go out into the woods but by the end of it, you understood. You were shocked by the amount of effort he put into making this proposal special.

He wanted it to be memorable, not for him but for you. He was terrified that if something happened to him before the wedding, you'd have nothing to remember him by. That's also why he hired a photographer, so that even if your memories start to fade, you could still look at the pictures.

After the two of you were officially engaged, you both began to scramble to plan the wedding. You both wanted it perfect but you were rushing it because you both were scared that something would happen to him on one of his missions and you guys wouldn't be able to get married. So the sooner the better.

After about a week of being engaged, Simon finally broke down and told his team. They all wanted to be involved. Simon asked Johnny to be his best man and he said "absolutely" without any hesitation. He asked Price and Gaz to be his groomsmen but Price asked if he could officiate the wedding instead since he got ordained a few years back when he was drunk and hasn't had the chance to officiate any weddings.

Simon agreed to Price officiating without asking you. You'd be okay with it. He hoped. Gaz agreed to be a groomsmen but asked if he could be the flower girl too, just for laughs. Simon shrugged and said "go for it, wedding of the century, I suppose".

He hoped you didn't get too upset about him adding those teensy little details to the wedding since you were kind of being a bride-zilla to say the least. But again, this is all for the memories. This will still be the best day of your life regardless if Price is officiating and if Gaz is the flower girl for some reason- it's not like you had a young niece or friends with small children to play flower girl anyway so Gaz is actually doing you a favor.

The wedding day came after about four months of planning and preparation. You were a nervous wreck and needed everything to go perfect but it felt like everything was going wrong.

You were having an outdoor wedding but it was cloudy outside with a 75% chance of thunderstorms. It was windy. The cake wasn't what you were envisioning. The catering people were late. Everything was going wrong.

Once the wedding started, you were being walked down the aisle by a family member and you noticed Gaz scattering rose petals on the ground in front of you and you couldn't help but laugh. Why was he playing the flower girl? Regardless of his reasoning, you smiled for the first time that day.

Gaz stationed himself beside Johnny once he ran out of petals. You eventually made it to the altar and stood across from Simon. He looked perfect. You looked perfect. Everything was finally starting to feel perfect.

You knew Price was officiating the wedding because Simon told you when you started talking about finding officiants. That was an argument in of itself because he didn't ask or tell you to begin with. But you're fine with it now.

Price began to read out all the stuff that's usually read out at weddings and you both recited your vows and exchanged rings. The stressors of the day finally fell away when you both said "I do" and Price encouraged the two of you to kiss.

After years of being together, you're finally married to the man you love most and you couldn't be any happier.

And thankfully, pictures were taken of Gaz scattering the rose petals.

[starlighthosh]

can you do a seventeen reaction to the “current boyfriend” trend

yup yup

ot13 “current boyfriend” trend

extra warning: just fluff, some might pout, sad boyfriends

Scoups

Just stares at you wordlessly, before bursting into whines and pouts. “What do you mean current?? You don’t want to marry me??? Am I not the love of your life???”. Only 322738 kisses and hours of cuddling could fix the damage you did to him

Jeonghan

Hops onto the trend with you. “Yeah right, my current girlfriend”. Even teases you with it days after. In the end you are more mad than he ever was and you’re surely never gonna do that again

Joshua

Notices it but keeps quiet at first. Overthinks the whole day what he might have done wrong. Before bed he asks you about it and you tell him it was just a trend. He lets out a big sigh of relief and gives you a tight hug. “You scared me for a moment” he chuckles

Jun

“…are you cheating?” “WHAT??”. Turns into a whole discussion that it was just a trend and you would never cheat on him. He doubts you at first just to mess with you. Then tackles you to the ground and tickles you so much, it starts to hurt

Hoshi

Cue big pout and furrowed eyebrows. You immediately explain him the trend, but he’s still heartbroken. Like, mans sitting on the floor, dramatically looking out the window. Know what can fix that? Serving him kimchi while wearing tiger pyjamas

Wonwoo

“Try again” “Current boyfriend?” “Again”. Doesn’t let go till you finally break the prank. Then goes on a 10 minute explanation on how pranks can destroy relationships and that you should never do that again

Woozi

“No. I’ve seen this trend. Not with me”. He immediately interrupts you. “Why can’t you just be normal?”. Accidentally makes you kinda mad and now he has to fix it with hugs and comforting words

Minghao

“Well, why don’t we just break up right now?”. Totally the wrong person to do this trend with. Puts you in a timeout. No kisses, hugs, anything. But it doesn’t last long, cause he can’t stand seeing you sad

Mingyu

Immediately tears up and pulls you in for a hug. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll do better, I promise. I need you in my life”. You spend a whole week assuring him that he’s enough and you would never leave him. You better treat him good istg

Dk

Yeah, you’re gonna get a whole paragraph later. He’s gonna ignore you till you’re literally begging on your knees to come back home. Then folds like a chair and nuzzles into you. “You were so mean” “I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me my beautiful amazing boyfriend”

Seungkwan

“Oh you wanna play that game?”. Acts all tough in front of you and accidentally starts a fight. Later, he’s gonna cry himself to sleep. Shows up at your door the next day to resolve the fight and to finally cuddle you and kiss you silly again

Vernon

Doesn’t even realize it. Even if you look for a slight change in his expression, nothing. “What? Do I have something in my face?”. You explain him the trend and he just goes “Oh, what a stupid prank. Why would anyone do that?”. Leaves you dumbfounded

Dino

Pretty similar to Joshua. Just that he asks you on a call, drunk. “Do you really not love me anymore? The hyungs said it means you’re gonna break up”. You have to pick him up and explain him everything, talking him to sleep and everything

[isles-of-man]

Oscar gave a faint scoff as they walked the garden path, the flowers lining their way a gentle contrast to the sharp edge in his tone. “The wedding planner wasn’t panicked, just… persistent. Like the world might tilt if the lilies were out of season.” He glanced sideways at Eleanor, a flicker of amusement in his eye. “You can always tell me if something’s off — flowers, curtains, any of it. It’s your space too now. And frankly, it needs your touch. At the moment, it looks like a library collapsed on the bed, but I’m not upset if you require them.”

When she teased about getting lost, Oscar’s expression softened. “Then I’ll walk you back as many times as it takes. It won’t feel like yours until you stop needing directions.” Her kiss had lingered in his thoughts more than he expected — not because of boldness, but because it was unguarded. Just like her nerves about the book and last night. “Nothing about this is meant to feel perfect right away. There’s no right way to be married, no matter what advisors suggest. I often think they put their noses in business that often doesn’t concern them, at least in our bedroom.”

Her curiosity about his cooking brought on a laugh. “You learn fast when a cold field and a sick cook are your only options. It’s not passion — it’s survival. Hunger has a way of teaching you quickly.” He nodded at her comment about cooking while starving. “That’s why most people snack their way through it. Patience and hunger rarely agree.”

When she asked about his family, he grew quiet for a moment, not out of offence, but a quiet caution, as if stepping into a room he rarely entered. “No, I don’t miss them,” he said finally. “My father saw me as weak because I wasn’t built like my brother. I was sharper — more thoughtful to think with my head rather than my hands— but that never counted. Strength meant more to him than sense ever did.” He kept his gaze on the path ahead. 

“I lost my place as heir before I understood what I’d done wrong. So I left. Took what I could, built something of my own and trained myself to fight with both. My brother and I are at war now, though in truth, we always have been. I don’t long for what never gave me room to exist as I was. It is why I don't judge you as you look, I care for who you are beside me and what we're to become as husband and wife."

“The wedding planner seemed to be pretty stirred over some flowers.” Eleanor did still have a small grudge over that. “I won’t interrupt a meeting of yours over some flowers, but I’ll let you know later if there are any issues over it.” She did enjoy the idea of having some in the room, it would surely liven the room and not feel like only a man lives in it. Though right now it looked like a hoarder lived in it with all the books sprawled across the bed.

She did feel her heart flutter slightly at his promise to her, it’s what she needed to hear in this overwhelming time. She leaned up, pulling him slightly down as she did, to give him a peck on the cheek. “Well your patience may be tested, I’ve not entirely paid attention to our route and am going to have no clue how to walk back to your—our room.”

“I think my face will become redder than a tomato while reading it.” Eleanor told him with a small shake. “What we did last night felt to be a lot, I could not imagine something more that even catches you by surprise.” Because in her eyes, he very much appeared to be a confident expert in this subject. He’s had more years experience in doing this than years she’s been alive…she tried not to think of that fact too heavily. “Well I don’t know what else you would call it.” She said in her own defense, the term seemed to be pretty straightforward to her.

Eleanor was surprised to hear that he could cook rather than share a cooking failure story like she would have. “Really?” She said, listening carefully to what he told her of all the skills he had even if they were not on par with the royal chef. “Well that’s good to hear in case we’re ever both trapped in the middle of nowhere—though I hope that never happens.” She commented before adding. “I think if I ever really tried to cook, I could not be hungry while doing it. The thought of standing around for an hour or more with ingredients all in front of me while hungry…it just sounds like torture.” She admitted, thankful that her role never required her to cook.

She paused and thought for a moment, trying to think of another question to ask but one that would be deeper. Eleanor did not want to upset him, but she did want to know all sides of him. To try and be fair, she decided to ask a question that she also would give a vulernable answer too—even if the circumstances were far different. “Do you ever miss your family?”

[lycolux]

Time Travel AU:

This is just some crazy idea I had that I'll never be able to implement, so I decided to share it here.

Lin Ling has been playing Nice for a while now. Moon and Nice haven't gotten married yet, so Moon is still in the Hero Tower.

Some villain that Lin Ling fights sends him back in time to when the original Nice was still alive. Even though the original Nice is alive, Lin Ling retains Nice's appearance and abilities, as well as his trust value. Lin Ling doesn't even immediately realize that something is wrong, and continues to play Nice despite some of the oddities he notices around him, but chooses to ignore because his life is pretty crazy these days and he's learned to just accept whatever is thrown at him. Maybe at the beginning, even Miss J mistook Lin Ling for the original Nice and takes him away to film a show or something, ignoring the fact that Nice is acting a little unusual.

Nice at this time is not yet depressed, but is already starting to feel the pressure of society's expectations. He just goes about his normal hero business, although he may notice at some point that he has more time to himself than usual (since Lin Ling is acting out Nice for half a day instead of the original Nice).

At the end of the day, they both end up in the same place and finally see each other for the first time. Nice is very confused because he found his doppelganger, and Lin Ling is shocked because he sees a living dead person. Lin Ling, being the expressive young man that he is, unintentionally spills a lot of information to Nice in his shocked state, including that he is from the future and that Lin Ling became Nice's replacement after he committed suicide. Nice is devastated because his future wasn't what he expected, and on top of that he's mad at Treeman for simply replacing him with someone else in the future and pretending like nothing happened, like Nice's life meant nothing to them. Eventually Miss J finds out that there are two of them now (maybe Moon found them together and called her, or maybe Nice called Miss J in a fit of rage at Treeman to tell her what he thought of them) and they all get together to decide what to do next.

I haven't thought past that, but I like the idea that Treeman eventually decides to use Lin Ling to fill in for Nice sometimes, thus giving Nice more freedom and also making him stop being so mad at them for what they would have done to him in the future if Lin Ling hadn't shown up. Lin Ling agrees to these terms since his past self also exists in this time, so he can't go back to his old life. Besides, he is still a fan of Moon, and he is happy to continue spending time with her.

So, Lin Ling becomes Nice and Moon's new roommate, and he sometimes fills in for Nice during filming and other social events. Maybe while filming another commercial, Lin Ling, as Nice, would even meet his past self, who knows.

[waitimcomingtoo]

But I Always Will

Pairing: Tom Holland x ex!singer!reader

Synopsis: You and Tom meet again a year after your breakup and he helps you with a song

Masterlist

lyrics from:

“I had a dream about you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” You smiled as you rolled over in the bed to face him. The covers were pulled over both your heads but the need to breathe wasn’t pressing enough to make you come out.

“She was just like you.” Tom replied. “But this version of you was still with me. I asked her to marry me and she said yes.”

“Then it was definitely just a dream. Cause you never asked me.” You smiled teasingly as rested your hand on his cheek.

“Will I ever get the chance to make things right?” Tom asked as he put his hand over yours.

“I don’t know. Will you?”

“What if I don’t get to? What if our eyes never meet again?”

“But what if they did?” You asked calmly. “Will you make things right?”

“What if I can’t?” He worried. “What if I don’t know how?”

“You know.” You said as your body was pulled backwards vanished into the bedsheets and out of his sight.

Tom woke up for real that time with the same frown he always had on these days. He shut the alarm off on his phone and opened up Instagram. He scrolled through your pictures and sighed when he found nothing new posted since last time he checked, a mere 6 hours ago. He sat up and rubbed his tired eyes before grabbing your little leather notebook off his dresser. He thumbed through the pages before landing on the one he checked each day. He ran his fingers over the lines you had written on it, knowing it was the closest he’d ever come to touching you again.

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna release some songs about me without ever telling me how you feel? That’s how we communicate now?” Tom asked as he slammed your notebook down on the kitchen counter. You jumped at his voice and timidly put your book down. Tom had expected you to match his anger and yell back but you just looked at him with genuine confusion.

“I was never gonna release them.” You said quietly. Tom blinked in surprise at your tone but didn’t let up on his anger.

“Then why did you write them?” He demanded.

“Because I needed somewhere to vent my feelings.” You said calmly.

“So instead of talking to me about how you feel, you write a full blown chorus about how unhappy you are with me?” He shouted back.

“Talk to you?” You asked. “Tom, there is no talking to you anymore. You just yell. Or snap at me and then go to bed early to avoid an actual conversation.”

“I don’t do that.” He scoffed.

“You’re yelling right now. Do you even realize that?” You genuinely asked him. Tom felt his face heat up in embarrassment when he realized he was in fact yelling.

“Don’t change the subject. You wrote terrible things about me in your notebook.”

“And you read my notebook.” You said as you stood up. “The one thing I asked you not to do.”

“It…it was open.” Tom’s anger slowly deflated when he realized he’d crossed a line you made pretty clear early on he was not allowed to cross.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you read it. You knew how personal my songs are to me. How am I supposed to trust you now?“ You mostly asked yourself as you slumped back into your seat.

“How am I supposed to trust you?” He asked back. “Everyday, you tell me that everything is fine between us. I should not have had to read your notebook to find out how unhappy you are.”

“Then I guess we can’t trust each other.” You shrugged in defeat.

“I guess we can’t.” He snapped back. You looked at each other for a long time until the silence became unbearable.

“Then what are we doing here, Tom?”

Tom abruptly shut the notebook and wiped the tears from his face. He didn’t like to relive the break up, just the moments leading up. He analyzed that final conversation everyday to try and mine new information about what went wrong. Your relationship had dwindled so fast near the end that he didn’t know what to tell people when they asked him why you weren’t together anymore. Everyone thought you were heading for marriage, including him. But the pressure of knowing everyone was expecting him to make a lifelong commitment ate away at him and made him distant. He didn’t realize how much distance he had put between you until he found himself single for the first time in five years with a bad habit of reading the notebook you’d left behind every morning. You’d taken everything else of yours when you moved out but left that behind, and Tom kept it as crucial evidence that he almost had it all.

After many hours of doing nothing productive, Tom went for a walk around his neighborhood. The sun was just beginning to set and the cold London air was biting him as he walked past the shops you used to frequent together. He walked by a small venue and stopped in his tracks when he noticed something in his peripheral vision. He took a few steps back and sure enough, your face was on a poster under the words “surprise performance by”. Just as his eyes read the date of the performance, he heard a voice behind him.

“Tom?”

And suddenly, your eyes met. He nearly knocked himself over from turning around so fast but caught himself. You chuckled slightly at his movement while he just stared at you in disbelief. You were standing in front of him for the first time in so long in your coat and guitar slung over your shoulder. He almost reached out to touch you to make sure you weren’t in his imagination.

“Hi.” He managed to get out when he realized he’d been silent.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, but you didn’t sound unhappy about his presence.

“I’m so sorry, darling. I didn’t know you were performing here tonight. I didn’t even know you were in town. I was just walking and saw your face so I had to stop. And now I’m looking at your actual face and I’m not entirely sure I’m awake.”

“You’re awake.” You laughed dryly. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalking me. This is my first gig in London in a year and you just happen to stumble across my poster? Sounds pretty suspect to me.”

“I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t know you were here.” He stammered. “You hadn’t posted about it or anything. If I had known you’d be here, I never would’ve walked by. I’m not stalking you.”

“I don’t know. Sounds like something a stalker would say.” You clicked your tongue. It took Tom a full minute to realize you were messing with him.

“You’re joking.” He said with a half smile.

“I am.” You replied. “I’m also freezing. Do you want to come to my dressing room and talk? I have a minute before I need to start getting ready.”

“Really? You’d let me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Always have time for a fan. How often do you check my Instagram, by the way? I’m assuming pretty often if you knew I hadn’t posted about this show.” You teased him as you led him into the venue and upstairs to your dressing room. Tom was still not fully convinced he wasn’t dreaming, especially given your lax attitude toward him. It was a sharp contrast from the last time you’d spoken, which involved tears and slamming doors.

You reached the dressing room and dropped your guitar down on the couch. Tom stood awkwardly near the door in case you remembered that you hated him and ordered him to leave. Now that the two of you were alone in a closed room, you felt the initial shock of seeing Tom again after a year wear off. The vulnerability you’d been trying to mask by teasing him was aching to show, but you did your best to hide it. You kept your back to him so he wouldn’t see you weren’t as calm and collected as you appeared. You were freaking out as much as he was but he didn’t need to know that.

“I never even thought I’d see you again.” Tom admitted and felt tears threaten to well up in his eyes. You knew him well enough to hear in his voice that he was getting emotional.

“Did you want to see me again?” You asked without turning around. All the playfulness was gone from your voice and you were just as fragile as he was.

“Are you kidding me? I would’ve given anything at any moment just for us to ride in the same elevator one more time.” He replied, making you laugh slightly even though that wasn’t his intention.

“I always imagined we’d met again.” You told him. “But in ten years or something at that ice cream shop we liked. The one with the spoons that change color. And we’d catch up and do an awkward half hug and then never go back to that shop.”

Tom smiled slightly but cast his eyes down at the floor. Even though he should probably know this after a year, you just confirmed to him you hadn’t considered getting back together.

“If we ever had met again, I wouldn’t have expected you to be nice to me.” He said without looking up.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I should’ve known you didn’t have it in your nature to be mean to anyone. But I thought you’d hate me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you walked right by me down there and pretended you didn’t know who I was.”

“I could never do that.” You said quietly. “I know you too well to pretend not to.”

A silence filled the room that wasn’t comfortable but wasn’t unwelcome either. You both looked anywhere but at each other, unsure if you should get into the breakup, the year apart, and the unexpected meet up now, or if you should just play it friendly and then go your separate ways.

“So, um, how have you been? Still dating that American bloke with the funny name?” Tom asked and tried to put off that he couldn’t care less about the answer when there was nothing that mattered more.

“Who told you about that?” You laughed curiously.

“Twitter. Or whatever it’s called now. I might’ve seen some pictures.”

“Wow. You really are stalking me.” You pretended to gasp and he felt his face heat up.

“I’m not. I just saw it when it was trending. Where did you meet him anyway? He didn’t seem like your type.”

“LA. He produced one of my songs.” You replied. Your tone was light, which surprised him. He was still anxiously anticipating a screaming fight like the last time you’d spoken.

“I think I heard that one. It was about some foolish lad breaking your heart, wasn’t it?” He teased, making you laugh lightly.

“Yeah. Something like that.” You told him. He caught your eye that time and held your gaze for a moment. It took everything in him not to let it show how much it was killing him to know you’d moved on.

“So, uh, the poster outside said you were going to play some unreleased songs tonight. Does that mean you’re working on an album?” He asked to change the conversation before he dropped to his knees and begged for you to give him another chance. Part of you appreciated the inquiry but part of you was being driven insane by this superficial and overly polite conversation.

“Thanks for asking. I am, actually. I need one more song to close my album out but I’ve never been more stuck. Everything I write is garbage.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re the best songwriter I know.”

“Oh yeah? And how many do you know?”

“Just you.” He admitted. “But no one’s better. No one can write like you can. You’re incomparable.”

“Well, I don’t agree with you, but I do appreciate the compliment. My label hasn’t been happy with the songs I’ve been submitting so it’s nice to hear some reassurance.”

“How could they not be happy with them?” He wondered. “You’ve never written a bad song.”

“They think my latest submissions have been too fluffy and generic.” You told him. “They want me to be more authentic and write about what I’ve been through. But it’s hard, you know? It’s like giving your diary away to strangers.”

“But you’ve always been authentic.” Tom defended you. “That’s what you’re known for. Your love songs are some of the best of all time. Everyone says so.”

“But that’s the thing. I’m not in a place in my life where I can write love songs. My relationship ended and I haven’t been able to write a decent song since. I’m worried I can’t do it and that I’m gonna let everyone down.” You sighed and sat down on the couch. Tom flexed his hand a few times before sitting on the couch beside you. It was the closest you’d been to each other in over a year and he was feeling electric.

“I know you can do it.” He said in a soft voice. “No one is like you. You wouldn’t be where you are if you didn’t have an ability to write about love like no one else can. Even if it’s the bad side of love. So don’t go doubting yourself now.”

“Harry told me you and him and have been working on a script. Maybe you could give me some writing tips?” You smiled teasingly at him to avoid thanking him for the compliment.

“We have but I wouldn’t be any help to you. You were always the better writer. You were the better everything.”

“Maybe. But I could never quite cook like you could.”

“No, darling. That is the one feat you have yet to master.” He chuckled. “As soon as you learn to follow a recipe, you’ll take over the world with that brilliant mind. I’m sure of it.”

“Recipes are just suggestions.” You shrugged.

“That are highly encouraged for you to follow.”

“For you to follow. Some of us prefer to get creative in the kitchen.”

“Is that why your muffins never rose and your cake tasted like scrambled eggs?” He asked, making you narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I never heard you complaining about having to eat my cake before.” You said and held your hands up in defense. You both went quiet for a moment and you felt your face heat up.

“That sounded more sexual than I intended.” You mumbled.

“Tell you what. How about you show me what you have written so far and I can give you honest feedback? I’m not your boyfriend anymore so I don’t have to lie and tell you I like it if I don’t.“ Tom suggested as he handed you your guitar.

“Did you used to lie to me and tell me you liked songs when you didn’t?” You asked pointedly as you rested your guitar on your knee.

“No.” Tom said as he eyes darted to the side.

“You’re such a liar.” You rolled your eyes at him. “I know you never liked that song about the bikes. You better be honest about this one.”

You started to strum the melody on your guitar but suddenly felt overwhelming shyness that forced you to stop playing. You hadn’t sung for him in well over a year and he was about to hear a song that was undeniably about him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked when he sensed your hesitation.

“I don’t know if I can play it. It’s rubbish right now.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. And the 19 drafts of lyrics in my trash can.”

“Just show me what you have so far.” He asked in a voice so gentle you almost took him back right then and there.

“Okay. But you can’t laugh. Or make eye contact with me at any point.” You warned him.

“Okay.” He chuckled. “I won’t.”

You gave him one last glance before turned your attention to your guitar. You started to strum the melody again and sang the chorus in a shy voice.

“I don’t love you, but I always will. I don’t love you, but I always will. I always will.” You sang softly without ever looking up at him. Tom had a feeling the song would be about him but felt close to tears upon hearing it.

“Is that the chorus?” He asked in as steady a voice as he could muster.

“Yeah. A bit of it.”

“Any verses?”

“That’s where I’m getting stuck.” You told him. “I wanted it to be a duet that sounds like a conversation between two people. But I can’t tell if the responses I wrote from the man’s perspective are any good. I keep crossing them out and starting over. I just want it to sound authentic.”

“Why didn’t you get your boyfriend to help you?” He asked, making a smile tug at your lips. You looked up at him with a look in your eyes he didn’t think he’d ever see again.

“That was just a rumor, you know.” You told him. “About the American with the funny name. I don’t have a boyfriend.“

“You don’t? You didn’t say that before.” Tom replied and tried to conceal his relief upon hearing that information.

“I didn’t say I was dating him either.” You pointed out. Tom nodded in agreement before staring into your eyes.

“I thought you’d moved on.” He said in a quiet voice. You shook your head and looked at him like that was a ridiculous thing to say.

“No way. I haven’t come close to moving on. That’s why my musics been shit lately.”

“Now I know that’s not true. Sing me the rest of what you have so far and I’ll read the man’s part of the duet. Maybe you just need to hear it from someone else.” Tom suggested. You still felt shy about singing him the song but decided his input could be helpful.

“Here’s my notebook. You can read it this time.” You said as you handed him to your notebook open to the page of the duet. He looked at you in shock and you cracked a smile.

“Oh, we don’t joke about that? My bad.” You chuckled and started to strum your guitar.

“You only know what I want you to.” Tom said in a speaking voice when you nodded towards him to cue him in.

“I know everything you don’t want me to.” You sang in response. Tom cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine.”

“You think your dreams are the same as mine.” You sang back to him before stopping your playing. “And then it would be the chorus again.”

Tom took the break in playing to move closer to you on the couch. You noticed this but said nothing about it.

“Keep going.” He requested. You gave him a shy smile and started playing again as you looked into his eyes.

“I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back.” You sang to him.

“The less I give, the more I get back.” He read from your handwriting.

“Ooh, your hands can heal, your hands can bruise.”

“I don't have a choice,” Tom began and then sucked in a breath, “but I still choose you.”

“Oh, I don’t love you, but I always will.” You began to sing the chorus again as Tom stared at the lyrics in front of him. You’d somehow managed to perfectly capture how he had felt the past year without you. Despite not having the choice, he still chose you each and every day, whether you knew it or not. Whether you’d ever know it again.

“That’s, uh, that’s all I have so far.” You said to break the awkward silence the followed the end of your song.

“You’re right. It is shit.” Tom said, making you both laugh.

“Shut up.” You answered and gave him a playful shove on the arm.

“It’s a brilliant song, darling. One of your best I think. So stop beating yourself up about it.”

“Really? You think it’s good?” You asked doubtfully.

“I think it’s perfect. What was your inspiration for it, anyway?” He asked while watching you intently.

“Oh, you know.” You sighed and set your guitar down on the floor. “Just this guy I used to date.”

“Hm. Well, he sounds like a real idiot for letting you go and making you feel like that.“ Tom said softly. You looked into his eyes and gave him a sad smile.

“He is. That’s why I had to sing about him. But I don’t know. Maybe he’s not as bad as I remember. Maybe he’s changed.”

“I hope he has.” Tom said earnestly. “I hope he spent every day that you were apart trying to better himself in case you ever came back.”

“And what if I did come back? What do you think he’d do?” You asked as you moved closer to him on the couch. Tom moved in closer as well but before he got a chance to say anything, your manager knocked and opened the dressing room door.

“Hey, love.” She greeted. “I hate to interrupt but they need you downstairs for sound check.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” You told her. Her eyes shifted to Tom and she bit back a smile.

“Only a minute, okay love? Everyone is waiting.” She told you before shutting the door.

Alone again, neither of you knew how to bring the conversation back to where you were before. You didn’t know if you were really forgiving him or just swept up in the moment, and he didn’t know if he was pushing his luck with you.

“I’ve actually thought a lot about what I would do if I saw you again. More than I’d like to admit.” He confessed without meeting your eyes.

“Oh yeah? And how did you imagine it would go?” You asked him. He gulped as his eyes dropped to your lips but didn’t move closer in case you didn’t want him to. You sensed his hesitation so you took the liberty of leaning in closer to him. Before your lips could touch, you were interrupted by another knock at the door.

“Sorry, love. But we really need you downstairs.” Your manager called through the door. Tom gave you a disappointed smile as you let out a sigh.

“I’m so sorry. I have to go.” You told him and stood up from the couch. He was disappointed but understood the demand of your job.

“That’s all right, darling. Don’t apologize. I’ll walk you to the door.” He offered. You crossed the dressing room in painful silence and turned to each other when you got to the door.

“So.” You smiled tightly. “See you in ten years at the ice cream shop?”

“See you then.” He smiled back with a sadness in his eyes. His chance had come and gone but he supposed he should be lucky he had the chance in the first place. Then again, if he never got the chance again to be in the same room as you, he might as well make the most of this one.

You put your hand on the door handle and were about to turn it when he put his hand over yours.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he slipped his hand behind your head.

“Making things right.” He answered as he closed the gap between you to kiss you. You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him back.

Despite the growing crowd waiting for you downstairs and the incessant knocking at the door from your manager, nothing was going to pull you out of the dressing room. Nothing was going to stop you from letting him make things right.

Tag List 🏷️ (thanks for being so patient with me x)

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @itsemohours

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy @wordsarelife

@bigmaddieg @starboyshoyo

[packleaderbriggan]

THE FANTABULOUS FUCK-UPS OF FANTASTIC BEASTS

Tagging @keepmeinmind-01 , as promised. Thank you for the lovely ask, friend 😁🫶

Alright, so to start off, I just want to get this out of the way: Fuck JK Rowling, trans rights are human rights, free Palestine, black lives matter, and bigotry of any kind is an absolutely disgusting use of free will.

I was going to throw all of my issues into the answer to your ask, but I got part way through the first section and went, "This is a lot. Maybe I should just make a post." So here we are.

I'm going to be breaking this post into sections, just to keep it a bit more cohesive and less wall-of-text-y. First up:

MAJOR PLOT HOLES AND INCONSISTENCIES

(More under the cut 😁🫶💝)

There is absolutely no mention of Credence at all in the original books. If he was such a pivotal character, especially one related to the Dumbledore's, how did he just disappear into obscurity (no pun intended) by the time the main series took place?

Gellert’s “Your brother abandoned you” comment at the end of CoG makes no sense. If Aberforth is the father, that would make Albus an uncle… and if Grindelwald knows oh-so-much about the Dumbledore family, you’d think he would know enough to not make that mistake

Jacob in Hogwarts is literally impossible... Unless he’s a squib. But if he is a squib, we should have gotten even a tiny hint of magical ancestry. Now, we're just assuming things to make the dots connect, and if your readers have to go through such mental gymnastics to understand the story you've written, you've done something wrong.

The Queenie/Jacob marriage at the end of SoD takes place in Queens, in Jacob’s bakery. But how are they getting married in the US? The laws regarding No-Maj/Wizarding relationships haven’t changed yet!

‘Vulnera Sanentur’ is the counter-curse for ‘Sectum Sempra’… A spell that was invented by the Half-Blood Prince… who has not been born yet. I mean, come on. That's just lazy writing.

Ariana’s death in the three-way duel between Gellert, Aberforth, and Albus directly goes against the blood pact! Killing curses were being exchanged, so why didn’t the pact have any effect then?

The whole blood pact in general makes no sense tbh. If thinking about harming the other is enough to activate the curse, why is murder by proxy allowed? They're still thinking of hurting each other, just by manipulating other people to do it for them. Is that not seen as "direct harm"???

Leta and Corvus Jr are very explicitly stated to be the last of the Lestrange line… But they’re obviously not? Where did Rabastian or Rudolphus come from? Did they just spawn in? Or could it be that the entire Lestrange plot line in CoG just meant absolutely nothing

The twin Qilin being dead means that it. Is. Dead. Magic cannot bring back the dead, which was the whole point of the OG books. So is it an inferi now? An animated corpse? But it apparently still uses magic to figure out who to bow to, which is something I'm pretty sure an inferi is incapable of. So what is it??

The future is the future is the future. Gellert saw the future. So anything that happens between the present and the point he saw was *always going to happen*. The whole “counter-sight” plot doesn’t make any sense because the only ones confused are the characters and us. The future has already been set!

In CoG, Albus is a DADA teacher… But he never taught Defense. He was the Transfiguration professor! We know this because it was stated in the original books that Tom Riddle asked for the Defense position when the previous teacher (who had been working there for 50 years) retired. So how on earth is albus teaching DADA 10 years before Tom starts school??

The Qilin bowing to Albus makes no sense. His entire arc in The Deathly Hallows was there to prove that he was not pure of heart, nor was he deserving of a powerful station.

After all the lead-up and hints that Jacob is pure and virtuous, it would have made more sense for it to bow to him… By which I mean, it still makes no sense, but it would have been a better twist than whatever bs they actually tried to pull.

Yusuf Kama going to Grindelwald serves no purpose other than to add suspense for the audience… As far as the others know, he was loyal to them for the entire time. The whole question of "will he, won't he" is totally irrelevant to the other characters because they know him to be on their side. It's not a surprise to them when he turns on the wizard nazis

There is absolutely 0 continuity with the Dumbledore/Phoenix thing. If Credence’s came to him because he was dying, then does that mean Ariana had one, too?

Honestly, on the topic of Credence, his entire story was just. Anticlimactic. You mean to tell me that after all that build-up, all those hints that his mother will finally be revealed... We get literally nothing about her?? Then he just dies??? Off-screen??? WTH Joanne??

If Yusuf couldn’t follow Corvus Jr because Irma’s magical signature was too weak, then WHY SEND LETA? Wouldn’t she have a magical presence he could trace? She could jeopardize the entire operation, all for what?? Some convoluted baby swap scheme? That also makes no sense??

AND WHY LEAVE HIM WITH A RANDOM LADY - no way to contact him, no way to find him, nothing - especially if that lady happens to be descended from the witch hunters responsible for the Salem witch trials??? Me thinks Corvus Sr put zero thought into this entire situation

Timeline Fucky Wuckys

I know this one comes up a lot, but how is Minerva McGonagall teaching at Hogwarts a full three decades before she was born?? Her birthday is in October of 1935, yet she's somehow teaching Newt and Leta in the 1910s??

SoD takes place sometime before 1939 because WW2 hadn’t started yet. BUT Tom Riddle starts school in 1938… And he needs his wand, which means Fawkes had to have been with Albus already in order to donate the two feathers for the brother wands. When did Fawkes come to Albus? How long was he with him? We have no answers!

Lally says it’s been, “... a little over a year,” since the events of the first movie. But it’s not? It’s been, at the very least, 5 years! Just more timeline confusion

FBaWtFT takes place in 1926. Credence is supposed to be 18 years old. But in SoD, it’s revealed that he was conceived in 1899… So either his mother (whoever she is, we still have no gd clue) was pregnant for about 8 years, or it just doesn’t make any sense period.

Minor Mistakes and General Questions

Mistakes

Tina and Theseus have the same job… So why could Theseus participate in the third movie but Tina somehow couldn’t?

There is some Portkey vs Floo Network confusion in SoD. Jacob comes whooshing onto the train *through the fireplace*, yet still calls that transportation a Port Key? Maybe he's just a little confused, or maybe the writers just overlooked it?

There are quite a few Vanishing Characters throughout the franchise, but 3 main ones: Abernathy, who they were implying was high-up in grindelwald's close circle; Nagini, apparently a shape shifter somehow; and Tina Goldstein?? A main protagonist???

Albus tells Jacob to, “Keep it close,” referring to his snake-wood wand. But why? Why go out of his way to instruct caution for absolutely no reason? As far as they know, it's just a stick! The wand doesn't have a core, so even if it is made out of a rare type of wood, it's still just a stick??

If the Swooping Evil venom from the first movie only works on “bad memories”, then Langdon Shaw wouldn’t be affected either. He was ecstatic to find out witches were real! Even if he was labeled as a crazy man and completely disregarded, it is entirely plausible that other people (ehem, Jacob) would have remembered the events of the last fight.

I hold very firmly to the idea that if Bunty had been introduced in the first movie, she and Newt would have ended up together. Instead, they're both just left pining with no resolution.

Questions

For a show called Fantastic Beasts, there really aren't a lot of beasts in the later films, are there? What happened to the whimsy of the first movie? Where did it go?

What is Aberforth's thing with mirrors? It was in the Deathly Hallows, and here it is again in SoD. Does he have a specific affinity for mirror magic?? Is that even a thing???

Speaking of Aberforth, what's with the goats? We have no explanation for any of that, even though it was an established piece of his character in the og book.

The whole "mirror dimension/inverse realm" in SoD also makes no sense? What kind of magic was that? Why does it never come up again? Is that just one of Albus Dumbledore's many talents, or was it just something the writers threw in because it looked cool?

On the topic of Albus, is he a seer or is he just really lucky?? In the books, it was implied that he was a very talented statistician, not a prophetic wizard. He could look at memories and easily distinguish patterns, thereby allowing him to guess at the most likely immediate future. But in SoD, it's pretty heavily implied that he saw some glimpse of the future and that's how he knows the counter-sight plan will work.

How do American muggle-borns get their letters to Ilvermorny if it’s literally illegal for any non-wizard to even know about the existence of magic? How does magic *work* in the US if it must all be kept strictly underground??

Bunty orders 6 identical cases, but only 4 of them are used in the plot. What happened to the other 2?

In the books, Aberforth hated Albus since the day Ariana was killed. That has already happened in the movies, and yet they get along relatively well? So what happened?

Why establish a connection between Newt and dragons in the first film, and then just abandon that detail to the void? Do you have any idea how cool it would be to have newt right in on the back of a Ukrainian Ironbelly to fight literal nazis?? That would have been SWEET

If you're cursed after killing a unicorn, the slaying of a being as pure as a Qilin would have a similar effect, yes? Apparently not.

I'm sure there are lots and lots that I overlooked, but I this is a pretty good list for now!! I think I might make another post for my theories and how I plan on fixing this whole mess in my rewrite... but that will be a project for another time.

Thanks for reading!! Feel free to scream at me about discrepancies I missed in the comments 🙏 I'm sure I missed some somewhere

[valentine-cafe]

[ i sent the request earlier not knowing about the pre-order system. other than being a first time customer, it's also my first time requesting on Tumblr… like, ever. my apologies for not being careful, i should have looked a little better at the guide. ^^; i'm re-sending my request (to my best recollection of it + some revisions) hopefully appropriately this time, if it's alright. i hope you will still consider - but i understand if not. thank you regardless. 🙇‍♂️ ]

may i have an affogato please?

[ amab reader ]

i can't even begin to explain how much Vespasiano has a hold on my thoughts upon reading about him, but i was intrigued to see in one of the receipts that he's still getting used to being with a man. and it had me wondering: what's it like in his mind, falling in love with a man for the first time? is it something he has known before but never indulged? or is it something he never considered until now?

can be fluffy and light-hearted, or slow burn and/or excessive yearning. might also throw in an inner conflict about his past experience of being scorned by love? however either of you feel best to explore the idea.

this is also optional, but i think it would be interesting as well if the apple of his eye was a fellow military man - if it's in character.

if it's too big of an ask or anything, feel free to ignore.

thank you! :'>

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : affogato !! . . . vampire ⊹ male reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔​​​​​​​﹕verse 781 ꮽ  vespasiano agresta caliari

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a charismatic, vampiric lieutenant. with years of experience turning his hair grey and a sharp eye

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... vespasiano falling in love with another man at the military ⊹ cw ٬٬ vesp going through denial . first times falling in love with the same sex . confused vespasiano . just soft :,))

You've known Vespasiano since he joined the military. As such, you've seen his whole story with that . . . hag. From the moment you discovered he was on and off with her — from the moment she tried to hit on you during an event, you knew he was setting himself up for failure. And then he went along and married her? You could only grieve for the kind man you've come to know as friend. You saw it all, the breaks, the divorce, the fights over the phone when he's around base and seconds from deployment. Everyone in your squadron were well aware of Vespasiano and his marriage issues. Even long after his kids had grown into adulthood, Ilaria seemed to be a constant in his life. No matter how much he tried to push her away.

But then, something funny happened. In all of Vespasiano's hurt and his final attempt to stay away from her . . . he - started seeing you in a new light. One that frightened him. Suddenly your support, comfort and kindness hit him deeper than it did before.

He denied it at first. For all his life he's known himself as straight. Even when he was on off periods with Ilaria, he distracted himself with other woman but this. This was different. Maybe he was just lonely, maybe he was just hurt. There's no way he was falling in love with a man.

Not that there's anything wrong with it in his eyes. His brother's gay and he's raised a bisexual son. His favourite nephew has a boyfriend too. It's not that it's just — shouldn't he have figured this out by now? He's in his sixties for crying out loud, isn't it too late for this self discovery?

He feels nothing but shame when your little hug meant more to him than just solidarity. When you making sure he ate before deployments flustered him. The time he helped you out with weapon positioning and he was so, so close to you. The urge he had to hold you. Was that wrong? It felt wrong.

You saw how distant he'd become and offered him to grab a bite to eat. The flush of his face embarrassed him ten times and over. Was that a date? No! You'd done this before. It's just you being a good co-worker. He's your Lieutenant for crying out loud.

But why was he wanting to hold your hand beneath the table? Why couldn't he stop looking at you? Every time you laughed his heart fluttered and for once he hadn't touched his food. You grew even more concerned.

"Is it Ilaria again?" No, it hasn't been Ilaria for awhile now. In fact he hasn't thought about her in who knows how long. But how does he tell you this? How does he even come out with it?

He speaks to his brother, Pietro. Who looked over with his husband, both wide eyed. They explained what was happening and he vehemently denied . . . Pietro only smiled and sighed. "You'll come to the acceptance eventually."

Maybe he'd just die with this feeling and these thoughts. He couldn't do it, not with the conflict and shame he felt.

What he was so blissfully unaware of is the fact the rest of your squadron had already pieced the puzzle together — and are now more than determined on OPERATION: Lieutenant Happiness.

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .